Ryan, My "Little" Brother (Rewrite) - Part 11

[tekuno]

This is a rewrite of BigBearMan94's original concept, done with his permission.

Original Story
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5

This story is now complete. (Thanks for reading!) Each section ends with a link to the next section, but here are links to all the parts of the rewrite for handy navigation

Rewrite
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Epilogue

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Okay, here's more of the story. I hope it doesn't let anyone down TOO much after all the delays; since I don't find age progression erotic by itself and Alex is the focus of "pure" muscle growth for this story, we're nearly done with the parts which I personally think are sexy, but there's a pair of sideshows to resolve, so there's at least two more parts' worth of plot to go, I think. (In fact, after the end of this part I had to refrain from typing in "dun dun dunnn!".) (For that matter, I also felt a little bit like this. As far as I'm concerned, a really stripped-down story is less interesting than one with a bit of padding. Chekhov can take his fucking gun and put it where the sun doesn't shine.)

Oh, incidentally: nasolabial folds. Never let it be said that the time you spend on this forum is not educational.

Also incidentally, and off-topic as well: I notice that the thread for the really good story "Cade Gets Sexed" got a 5-star rating for a while and then mysteriously went down to 4 and then 3. I have a hard time believing that the relatively few people who bother to give ratings to threads were actually downgrading it, since the story is really good and most people say nothing at all unless they can say something positive, so how did this happen? Does vBulletin count 0s for people who viewed a thread without giving a rating at all, and average them in with actual ratings, or something stupid like that?

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Ryan, My "Little" Brother
A Rewrite of BigBearMan94's Original Story (With Permission)
Part 11

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James just stood and stared as I went through a series of exercises with the car. There weren't as many as I would have liked; a car really isn't meant to be supported by surfaces as small as human hands, even ones as large as mine had become. And even if I couldn't drive the thing any more, I might be forced to sell it, and I would hardly get a good price if it had holes punched in the bottom. So even though I might have been able to do so -- hell, I almost certainly COULD have done so -- I refrained from trying to dig in and get a good grip and curl it (although obviously I had curled the front half just by lifting the bumper) or tossing it in the air. And putting it down gently was a nuisance. Still, I had managed it several times already, so once more really didn't matter.

I could tell James was completely flabbergasted; he had failed to dig out his camera, although he had dropped his backpack in the grass when I lifted the car.

I walked over to him, crossed my arms (just barely), and looked down at him with a grin. He fell to his knees, mouth open.

"Guh... incredible! Absolutely incredible!" He started massaging my legs, rubbing his head against my thighs.

Ryan snorted. "So, can we go get final measurements now?"

James had progressed to licking, and was making moaning noises. My cock was starting to get hard. I leaned forward to look at James over my pecs, and then looked at Ryan. "I think we're going to have to wait."

"Hmph. I already had to wait for you to jack off three times this afternoon. I never thought this would be so damn boring."

"If you don't like it, you can go play Pokemon."

Ryan glared, and stalked into the house. I sighed, and reached down. I grabbed James up by the arm, and pulled him to his feet. "James, this is really flattering, and I'm totally in favor of it in a general way, but can we go inside?"

James actually started to cry. "Sorry. You're just... oh, god, I can't believe you. You're everything I want, I love you so much."

I brought up and kissed him on the forehead and then gave him a hug. "I love you, too, James. Can you walk? Not that I can't carry you, but I'm not sure I can fit through the door at the same time unless I hold you with one hand, and that might be painful."

James giggled through the tears as I set him down gently, then he picked up his packpack, and preceded me into the house. I could hear video game noises through the closed door of Ryan's bedroom as I passed. They had a surprisingly pointed sound.

I entered my bedroom expecting to find James on the bed, but instead he was kneeling just slightly behind the center of the open space. And his ever-present camera was set up to record from the top of the dresser. He was blushing.

"What's this about?"

James' blush got a shade deeper. "I was kind of hoping we could enact one of my fantasies. Remember how I told you I wanted to climb you like a mountain?"

I laughed. This was going to be an interesting evening. "As long as you aren't going to use crampons or a pick, sure."

Two and a half hours later, we finally had to stop. James was just too exhausted to continue, with that or anything else. In order to "climb me like a mountain", he basically did not use his legs, except to grip different parts of my body after pulling himself into position. It was like the most erotic upper-body workout you can imagine -- but for someone of normal strength, even normal strength for a gym rat, it was pretty grueling to keep it up for as long as he did.

Meanwhile, since for once I wasn't the one taking action, I heard Ryan bring in his usual gaggle of girls and the various sounds of his own activities with them. It made me wonder how he was explaining the difference between his size when he got the contact information and his size now, since he had had a growth spurt since then. On the other hand, it was unlikely that anyone who hit on him earlier would actually turn down what was, effectively, a distilled version of the same thing.

As James lay back, panting, on my bed, he smiled up at me. "Thanks. That was exhausting, but worth it. What will the doctor say when he finds out you've been using the pills this way? What did he say about you getting dosed, anyway?"

I stared down at James in horror. "Oh, shit!"

"What?"

"James, I never sent him a reply! He doesn't know about either of Ryan's last TWO growth spurts, let alone that he gave me a dose! I was too tired to reply on Friday night, and I forgot all about it since then!" I took out my phone, but my fingers had gotten too large to comfortably type in a complicated message with the tiny controls. "Shit. I'm going to have to go do this on the computer."

"That's actually kind of hot, all by itself. Well, better get to the computer, then. Mind if I just lie here for a while? You wouldn't believe how tired I am."

"No, you go ahead."

I headed for the basement, and composed a message to Dr. Franskasten, describing Ryan's changes and my own. I sent it off, poured a couple of glasses of water, and carried them back to my room.

James was fast asleep in my bed. He looked absolutely adorable, and he must have been tired not to wake up from the noise of my entrance -- although what with the noise coming through the walls from Ryan's room, perhaps it wasn't such a surprise after all. I probably wouldn't have been able to fit in the bed with him anyway, but I certainly couldn't manage it without waking him up, so I scribbled a note to him and left it propped up on the glass of water, tucked him in, and turned the ceiling light off as I went out.

Since I didn't want to put up with Ryan's noise, and for that matter didn't want to deal with a stream of women later, I headed for the basement. Eventually, I fell asleep on the sofa down there, the one which had replaced the one I broke showing off years earlier.

I woke up with several mild pains (from curling my enormous body into a mere tiny sofa) at around 5 AM. I checked my e-mail hoping for a response from the doctor, but nothing new had arrived. I headed upstairs. There was no sound at all from Ryan's bedroom; not even snoring. I thought about looking in to see if he had gone out, but if there was more than one person inside, waking any of them would probably wake them all, and I didn't want to be responsible for that.

James was still asleep. He was wrapped up in the sheets, lying on his side facing the wall. I was torn; on the one hand, seeing him look so adorable and vulnerable made my heart melt. On the other hand, although I was no longer experiencing the hormone surges from growth, my day-to-day hormone levels had risen as I had grown, and seeing him lying covered only by a few sheets raised certain specific urges. Besides, he'd gone to sleep before 9, and it was after 5 now, that was 8 hours, which was enough sleep. And I would do all the work this time, anyway.

We were fairly quick, this time; forty-five minutes later, James put on the clothing he had worn the previous day, had a quick breakfast, kissed me goodbye until the evening, and headed home to get cleaned up for work. I stood at the door in the spandex (or whatever -- probably a knockoff; whatever, they were nice and stretchy) workout shorts which still fit me and watched as he drove off. A whole day away from James, stuck in the house, seemed like an eternity.

I did a series of chores -- ran a loads of towels through the wash, cleaned the breakfast dishes, tidied up the living room... at 8, I decided that I ought to look in on Ryan. If the women were still there, they'd probably want to get out soon.

There were no women in Ryan's room, as it happened. He must have shooed them all out to protect his cereal stash. Fine by me; coping with one-night-stands belonging to other people has never appealed to me. Just as well I wasn't going to go live in college housing.

I was a bit more concerned about Ryan. He was sleeping very soundly. He didn't even wake up when I stood by his bed and called his name. I might not be college-bound, but that didn't make me stupid -- I could see a pattern. Ryan was about to grow again.

I had a security camera program for my phone. It would take still pictures at intervals, do some very primitive motion detection, and record video if things started moving quickly. I set it record Ryan from the hutch over his desk, and went out to wait for him to wake up. It probably wasn't the kind of data Dr. Franskasten wanted, but he might still be interested in knowing the mechanics of the growth driven by Ryan's overdose. Was it slow or fast, did it happen all at once or one part of the body at a time, things like that.

It took a very long time. After a while, I got out some magazines and read. Then I did some sit-ups and what remained of what I could do of push-ups. (Between the thickness of my arms and the mass of my chest, my push-ups no longer involved very much actual movement.) Then I went and tinkered with the Internet. Then I had lunch.

Finally, at about 12:45, there was a creak and a thud from Ryan's room. I heard footsteps, as though he were crossing the room, and a rattle from the doorknob -- and then a pause. The footsteps sounded again, and then the bedsprings creaked again. There was a long series of creaks and then Ryan's voice gave a roar. Finally, he walked to the door again, and opened it this time.

Ryan was big. His muscles weren't as huge as I had forced mine to become, but he was certainly the biggest guy I had ever seen other than in the mirror in the last 24 hours. He was also, I thought, just slightly taller than I was now. He was also naked, so I could see that he was better-hung than either of us had been 24 hours earlier.

He had a cocky smile on his face, which was flushed, but he seemed to have managed to control the tempest of hormones, presumably by jacking off. "Man, that was the best night yet!" he boomed. "Ten women, and I kept them going until 3 in the fucking morning! And look what happened while I was asleep!" He flexed his arms -- not as big as mine (yet, at least), but frighteningly large.

I looked at Ryan's face. His nasolabial folds had become pronounced, and there were a few other lines on his face now. Actually, they suited him. Or at least they would have, but the muscles in his face had become even MORE pronounced than they had been. A lot of the charm of the human face comes from the fat under the skin, and Ryan's face was starting to look very strange; usually, people with that little fat in their faces are starving to death. Ryan wasn't, and it was obvious, but the combination was not particularly attractive.

"Well?"

"Uh, congratulations?"

Ryan glared at me and stomped past into the kitchen. He poured himself some cereal and carried it into the living room. In a way he looked silly, the bowl -- and, even moreso, the spoon -- were tiny in his huge hands. On the other hand, he was so huge that I had to remind myself how large I now was in the face of his scowl. Any normal person would probably have found him completely terrifying.

"So how big did you get, after all? I got tired of waiting for you."

"Oh, we never actually measured."

"What?"

"No, James and I kept going until he got tired, and then I went off to send an e-mail, and when I got back James was asleep. And since you were, um, a bit noisy, I went and slept in the basement."

"Oh." Suddenly, Ryan was eager, his bad mood evaporating. "Then let's go and measure as soon as I finish this."

After Ryan wolfed down four bowls of cereal, we headed for the basement; I was beginning to get used to walking down the stairs sideways. If I was careful, I could still avoid scraping my pecs or my upper back against the walls. I still had a fair amount of clearance for my head, but as I had suspected, Ryan's bed-head made some of his hair hit the ceiling.

We measured Ryan first, because he was so excited. He was 8 feet, 4 inches -- a giant. His arms were 37 inches, although his extreme height made them look smaller; nevertheless the extreme separation of every single head of his biceps and triceps, combined with their size, was such that any heavyweight bodybuilder competing would have been happy to exchange places with him. His chest was now 82 inches; the testosterone sloshing through my veins once again tempted me to sneer at how much smaller he was although I carefully didn't do that. And his waist was 34 inches. On hearing that, he jogged in a circle, doing various victorious arm motions.

"Woohoo! My arms are bigger than my waist! I'm a fucking stud!"

The mere thought of being so huge got him erect. I was tempted to ask if he wanted his cock measured, too, but I didn't want to freak him out -- as it happened, though, he grabbed the tape measure and did it himself.

"Ha! 28 inches! You may be the Incredible Hulk, Alex, but I've got you beat there!"

"Yeah, yeah. I wonder if you'll even be able to fit that thing into a woman any more."

"Doesn't have to go all the way in, dumbass."

"Whatever you say. I certainly don't know about that."

"Heh. No, you don't. Okay, now we have to do you."

I came to 8 feet, 2 inches. Ryan crowed. "I'm don't just have a bigger cock than you, I'm also taller! Ha ha ha! Shorty!"

I sighed. "Yeah, sure, Champ. Want to arm wrestle?"

"Point taken."

My arms came in at a tremendous and veiny 61 inches. I actually made Ryan retake that measurement because I was sure it was wrong -- there was no way I could still be able to even flex my arms at that size, even if I was taller, but the numbers were right. In fact, the second time the measurement was actually an extra eighth of an inch larger, because there was so much muscle that just flexing it once to get a measurement caused it to start engorging with blood.

"Ryan, how the hell can that be right? I mean, I trust you to do the measurement, but sixty-inch arms shouldn't be able to move."

"It's obviously 'cause you've got longer arms now."

"I'm taller, sure, but not THAT much taller."

Ryan just grinned. "Hang on a minute." He ran upstairs, and I heard him jog across the house to the bedrooms and back. He came back down carrying the mirror from his dresser.

"Now, look at me." He stood facing me with his arms hanging down at his sides. "Where are the tips of my fingers?"

"Hanging in midair."

Ryan frowned. "Well, suppose my shoulders weren't so broad, so they were hanging straight down my sides."

"Well, they'd be about mid-thigh. That's normal, right?"

"Right. Now, let your arms fall and look at yourself." He leaned the mirror against the wall.

I shuffled around so I could see myself. "Oh, holy fuck." It wasn't noticeable unless you were looking for it, what with the angle my arms now made from my torso, but: "I could actually reach down to my shins!"

Ryan grinned again. "That's right. Well, obviously you'd have to lose a lot of muscle mass first, but you could. You're a real gorilla."

"Huh. I wonder what James will think of that."

Ryan frowned again. "Now we have to get your chest. Hmmmm. That's going to be tricky."

In the end, we were only able to take an approximate measure using an old clothesline. The pieces of cable left over from my workout the previous day were all too short, and forget about the tape measure itself. With a certain margin for error, my pecs and upper back had actually gotten all the way to 125 inches around. My waist, unbelievably, was still only 33 inches.

"How do you do that, Alex? I'm not as massive as you, but my waist is bigger than yours."

"Exercise and clean living, Champ. Maybe if you didn't spend all your time plowing women, you'd still be skinny like me."

Ryan stuck out his tongue at me. "Even if I didn't still have an eight-pack like this, you spend almost as much time on getting off as I do. And the exercise just isn't worth it."

"Whatever, Champ."

I took back the tape measure and found that I was now 20 inches long, erect. In other company, incredibly hung; even around Ryan still pretty damn big.

"Ha, you're just a pin dick!" Ryan had slipped back into younger brother mode. I wasn't sure whether this was really an improvement over sullenness.

"Only if you're talking about bowling pins, pencil-neck." I reached up with my ape-like arms, pulled Ryan down, and gave him another quick noogie, then let him go.

"So, what do you want to do today, now that you're finally up?"

"Dunno. I guess you don't want to go out?"

"It's not so much 'don't want to' as 'have no clothes left which fit'. These shorts only fit because they're stretchy. I suspect you might fit some of the larger outfits we bought for me last time, but if you think I'm letting you go out unsupervised after what you did last time, you're crazy. And don't forget, I can lift a car with one hand -- you aren't going anywhere if I don't want you to go."

Ryan laughed. He didn't seem to be concerned. "Okay, then, Mom. So what do YOU want to do?"

"I dunno, what do YOU wanna do?"

"I dunno, what do YOU wanna do?" Some jokes never get old. More accurately, some jokes keep being made even after they have gotten old.

"Okay, enough joking around. I want to teach you how to do laundry."

Ryan looked stricken. "Do we have to?"

"Well, Ryan, I sure as hell am not touching your sheets the way they smell right now, and I bet you're getting comments from those women."

That got him. "Well, yeah, that's true. Okay, fine, teach me the secrets of the laundry, Sensei."

"Okay, Grasshopper, grab a laundry basket and let's go gather your dirty rag collection."

Once Ryan's sheets were being changed back into something which couldn't be used to evacuate a building, we spent the afternoon doing boring stuff. (While Ryan was gathering everything from his room, I took the opportunity to recover my phone, although I didn't have time to examine it.) We tried playing some video games, but it proved to be a bad idea; in the excitement of playing a game, I forgot my own now-superhuman strength and snapped my controller in two. Fortunately, it turned out that Dad had never followed through on his threat to clear out the closet in the basement where we kept all the old board games, so Ryan and I actually ended up playing Parcheesi and Monopoly for a few hours.

As Ryan put his bed back together, smelling notably of lavender-scented detergent and bleach, I started getting dinner together. Fortunately, now that neither of us were actively growing, the amount of cooking necessary was somewhat smaller -- I only had to make four times as much as I would have made for myself when I was an ordinary teenage bodybuilder. As I was smiling at this, Ryan came in and set the table.

As we ate, Ryan described his sexual escapades. It was somewhat similar to hearing him describe his Pokemon games, actually -- he was cheerfully obsessive and totally dedicated to his new hobby, but it was something I wasn't terribly interested in and actually fairly repetitive and tedious if you weren't the one experiencing it. And I was fairly certain that, even if I had wanted to talk about it, he would have been utterly disgusted to hear about my experiences with James. Still, there was a minor silver lining -- as long as he was maintaining the right precautions to avoid STDs, I didn't have to worry about him catching them all.

Just as we finished up, the doorbell rang. As soon as I had the door open to admit James, Ryan was suddenly back to his bad mood, and slammed his bedroom door behind him as he vacated, leaving me and James alone for the evening.

"Did I imagine that, or is he bigger again?"

"You didn't imagine anything. He grew again sometime between 8 and noon this morning."

"You have it timed that closely?"

"I checked in on him at 8, and he hadn't grown, and he came out of his room around 12:15 that size."

"Hmph. Punctuated equilibrium, huh? It would be weird to see him actually grow. I wonder whether it happens over a period of hours, or minutes."

I grinned. "No need to wonder; when I checked in on him, I set up my phone to watch him."

I pulled the phone out. The controls were, as mentioned, pretty tricky to handle with my giant hands, but with care I soon had it ready for playback.

"Hmmmm. Interesting. The program is supposed to record video if there's any significant motion, and it basically didn't."

"So he grew in a few seconds?"

"No. Looks like he grew over about an hour, ending at noon. It was slow enough not to trigger the motion sensor. It took still pictures once every 30 seconds; watch, I'll play it as a stop-motion video."

The brief video showed Ryan gradually blowing up, lying on his back in the bed. Even at the start, he had had his legs off the end, so although he definitely took up more of the mattress at the end, there were no major changes in the general outline.

"Damn, that was hot!"

"Really? I don't see it. Probably just as well; he's my brother."

"So, are you going to send the video off to the doctor?"

"That might be a good idea, actually. Hang on." I fiddled with the controls, saving the video where I could get at it later, and switched into the e-mail system. "Oh, shit! Dr. Franskasten sent me a reply while Ryan and I were in the basement, I totally missed it."

"So what does he say?"

"Let's see... 'The situation of your brother dangerous is. Leaving the symposium early I am, and will be devising some sort of solution. Please to notify of any further changes in his condition. Your own situation more alarming to me is, but probably not dangerous will be. Under other circumstances, a complete lack of exercise or strain I would have recommended.' Well, that's not ominous AT ALL."

"No, it's not the sort of thing to inspire confidence, is it? Well, he says you're safe, at least. But what's about your brother is 'dangerous'? Other than being a whiny little brat in the body of Andre the Giant?"

"Ryan is not a whiny little brat. He's actually a very nice kid, thank you very much, and don't forget that if it wasn't for him we wouldn't be together right now."

"Okay, fine, he's an exemplary young gentleman in the body of Andre the Giant. What's so dangerous about that?"

I sighed. "Can we head downstairs for a minute?"

Once we were downstairs, where Ryan couldn't hear us, I confided in James. "You may not have gotten a good look at Ryan, but he's starting to look like an adult."

James gave a hoot of laughter. "Starting to look like an adult? You have a pretty strict definition of 'adult' -- when I first met him, he was already as big as I am."

"No, James. Maybe 'adult' is the wrong word. I should have said 'old', really. Remember what the pills are: these aren't growth spurts, he's actually being made older somehow. He's getting wrinkles on his face now. Not serious ones, but I think he must have been aged into his late 30s, or maybe even into his 40s. If he keeps going, he'll hit old age soon, and maybe even something worse."

That sobered James. "Yeah, that's dangerous, all right. Do you know if those pills will actually cause death from old age, or is it all faked?"

"I have no idea. But that's not all. Ryan took his overdose on Monday of last week in the late afternoon, and had his first uncontrolled aging spell right away. He had the next one early Friday morning, and then one on Sunday evening, and this one late this morning. That's approximately three days, then approximately two and a half, then approximately one and a half. James, Ryan isn't just getting old, he's getting old faster and faster!"

Part 12

[muscl4life]

Now the plot thickens...

Great installment, congratulations!

[vga518]

I read the original series and I've been following your rewrite and it is just amazing wow! I can't wait to read what happens next and read what happens overall. I've gotta say poor Ryan. I had something else on my mind about it but its slipped my mind. If I remember I'll post it.
Keep it up.

[chocomus]

Oh rap, that last part was indeed alarming!!!!

hopefuly everything git get better and bigger in the end

I really enjoyed this story a lot, mainly cause i haven0t got the time till now and i read it all in one go.

I can see Ryan get jealous over the time James steals time from being with his brother.

And I'm glad all that straight sex is played offscreen lol

[Kit Werecat]

I can see that this story could go a number of different ways here. One way it could become VERY arousing for a Macro like me. Another was it could turn into my worst horrors imaginable.

I'm very excited to see where it all will lead. I've gotten to like Ryan, and I hope the kid doesn't have to pay for his impulsive mistakes too badly..

I'll be anxiously waiting for the next installments!

[tekuno]

Sorry, but this is not a macro or incest story. Says so right up top. When I write another macro story -- which will happen, eventually, I'm sure -- there will be plenty of warning.

As for Ryan's fate, well... it's really tempting to screw with your heads by trying to give you hints which are totally misleading, and then laugh at you when you turn out to have guessed wrong. (It's people like me who made up the legend of the Oracle at Delphi.) I guarantee that there's nothing I could do to him which wouldn't piss someone off at this point, so it's no surprise to say that a lot of people are going to be mad at his role in the ending. Just make sure you stick around for the epilogue BEFORE you complain, that's all I ask.