Muscle Immobilization - Tumblr Posts

Trey didn’t notice anything was different until he hit his third pose--his arms seemed stiff, legs seemed heavy for some reasons. He was starting to get kind of inflexible, and as he tried to hit a side chest he noticed his mobility was impeded--by his own body. The audience watched as Trey’s body started to swell like rising dough. In minutes his 4% contest physique had swollen out to a thick, bulky off-season body--well over 300 pounds, and counting. Trey tried to play it off, trying not to at least finish his routine, but he knew by the look on the judges’ faces and the shocked gasps of the audience that something was seriously going on. And his body just kept swelling... ...400 pounds came and went quickly, and still his body gained mass. His massive quads pushed his legs apart. Soon he wobbled awkwardly, his feet so far apart that he worried he’d loose his balance and topple over. His arms had swollen so much that they now stood out straight, resting on the massive swollen lats that kept spreading, making the already gigantic frame even wider. Trey’s terrified face was soon swallowed up as his traps engulfed his head. Only his panicked eyes were visible around the mass of muscle, and he stood with his limbs out straight like a grossly exaggerated anatomy chart. The only movement he could manage was the wiggling of his fingertips, the only sound he could make past the traps and pecs that had swollen around his head was a faint whimpering, and still his body kept growing... And offstage, Cody, who was in second after prejudging, slipped the woman with the spray-tun gun $500 for adding his special additive before giving Trey his final spray.

Mr. O-blimpia

               Some people theorized that Kai Greene was behind what happened at the Olympia. Barred from competing this year, he certainly had the motive, and maybe some of the chemists at his supplement company could’ve cooked up the bizarre chemical. But after extensive investigations, police said that there was no evidence Kai was behind it. What they did know was that the chemical was gaseous, fed into the arena through the vents through the whole competition, finally reaching a dangerous concentration just before they revealed the top 10.

               People watched, anticipating the winners of that year’s competition, when the chemical suddenly had a visible effect. Cameras were right on Dennis Wolf when it affected him. His whole body flexed at once, but the shocked look in his eyes suggested that wasn’t an intentional display of his physique. All of a sudden, Dennis’ body began to compress, slowly getting shorter without losing any of its mass. He looked around in a panic as his fellow competitors seemed to grow around him.

               Dexter Jackson was the next. People couldn’t believe what they were seeing as the big bodybuilder’s height reduced, the rest of his dense musculature compressed into a now-shrunken frame.

               In seconds, every bodybuilder onstage was suddenly sinking toward the floor. When the changes stopped, ten men stood on stage, all around three feet tall but with every ounce of muscle still on them. They waddled around on stumped legs, tried to wave their arms, now rendered useless by their incredible thickness. Their posing trunks struggled to contain the new girth of their bulges, which bobbed and wobbled provocatively as they stumbled around on their new stumpy legs. Big Ramy got it the worst, compressed into a little meat blimp, a panicked wiggling of his fingers the only thing he could move as he slowly tipped backward and landed on his back, immobile like an upended turtle.

               The audience was silent at first, until the changes spread to them. Suddenly, every man in the room with any performance enhancing drug residue in his system felt the effects of the gas filling the arena. Big, massive bodybuilders suddenly found themselves compressed into chunky little meatplugs, limbs so thick they could barely bend. Gargantuan powerlifters squealed with their new helium-high voices as they found themselves cut down to the height of children, immobilized by their own bulk.

               Onstage, a cartoonishly proportioned Phil Heath struggled to get out of the view of the cameras. Every second of his frustrated waddle off the stage was captured, however, and went viral the next day, blasted across every sports website in existence. Pictures of Flex Lewis, squashed down to mini-fridge size, being airlifted to the hospital, his body almost a perfectly muscular sphere, giant traps and a mammoth upper chest nearly swallowing up his entire face.

               They ventilated the arena immediately, but the gaseous chemical had already done its damage. They estimated thousands of men were affected, now the height of children with bodies so thick they were considered disabled. None of them could bend their arms enough to grab a steering wheel, or even climb into a normal vehicle. The tops of most counters were now off-limits to these dwarfed musclemen, and shelves were completely out of the question. Regular-sized men regarded the squished-down musclemen with mockery and disdain. They had nothing to fear from these little guys now. All that muscle, but one good shove to the head and they’d fall to the ground and squirm like a beetle.

               Months later, neither a culprit nor a cure found, they revealed the top 10 standings and awarded a blimped-out mini Phil Heath with the title of Mr. Olympia. As he accepted it from the man twice his height, wobbling on his unsteady legs, he started to thank God and his fans when a figure stepped out from the crowd.

               “Looking thick there, Phil, but you sound like a damned chipmunk.” It was Kai, and while security approached him, Phil squeaked out that it was fine. Phil’s eyes went wide as he stared up… up… up at Kai, who had never seemed so massive to him before. “Congrats,” said Kai, holding out a hand. Phil wobbled, awkwardly contorting himself to meet the outstretched hand without toppling over.

Ten-Year pt. 2

I wrote this story about seven years ago. There's a part one but it's long and uneventful. Essentially, the main character heads back to his high-school reunion (to which many of his classmates didn't show) and runs into Craig, a big juice-monkey football player who's gotten even more massive since high-school. Using the power of a red marble he brought, he shrinks Craig down in the bathroom and makes plans to leave with his new little pet before anyone notices. -------- I got to work, quickly fishing the red marble out of the back pocket of Craig’s pants. I puffed some hot breath on it. The red light faded and I slipped it back in the bag with the others. I picked up his shirt, carefully folding it and setting it aside. Craig, now six inches tall and fumbling around his own underwear, looked up at me, squeaking at me with his new, tiny voice. It was always very unsettling for the little ones to see me handling their things as soon as they shrunk out of them. I liked it. It was symbolic that was they used to think was theirs was now mine. What they used to control, I now controlled, even if it was a shirt. I reached toward him, which always threw the little guys into a shock as they watched my giant hand approach. He struggled to get out of his red boxer briefs (which I wish I’d seen him wear, to be honest), but I laughed. Where was he going to go, down a pant-leg? Out the fly? I caught him easily, and the feeling of his huge round muscles in my hand almost incapacitated me. His body was so hard, but so warm, all of the hardness pulsing and flexing in my grip. I sat there, enjoying the sensation, altering the tightness of my grip as he struggled, before I realized I had a job to do. Craig was big--emphasis on was--but I was bigger. His thick ‘roided out body still looked unbelievable, but he only weighed an ounce or two now. I tightened up my grip quickly, so much that I shocked him, I think, leaving only his head exposed. I didn’t want to hurt him, only to remind him who wore the “Boss” hat. I picked up his boxer briefs and held them to my face, inhaling deeply. They were still warm, still a little moist from his casual perspiration, still emanating a thick pungent odor that I readily drank in. It smelled vaguely of cologne, and sweat, and something else, perhaps his own pheromones I guessed. I made sure he could see me huffing on his cock-holster, casually glancing over to him to see his reaction. It was always so funny to me to see a big alpha male like Craig here reduced to helplessness and forced to submit to thing he opposed down to his very core. Clearly taking his undies hostage was something that struck a nerve with him. But big beef heads like Craig always took a little while to adjust to their new size. Guys like Craig always regarded their power as something innate, something that was a part of them, but it was truly only their size and stature that gave them this power. Surely their muscles were strong, and their great bulk gave them the ability to throw people around if they got their way, but take away that size and strength and they were left with no way to deal with things they didn’t like. Craig was reacting typically, threatening me and throwing his weight around, but now he couldn’t throw a sandwich around unless he struggled for a little while. It always took time for that to hit home. I watched him spout off obscenities, using his bulging, freaky little meatstack arms to try to pry my fist open, but it all just made me laugh. His high-pitched voice made his “threatening tone” sound so comical, I didn’t know if I was going to laugh or blow my load right there. But I didn’t have time for that. A quick shake of my fist stopped his tirade, and kept him quiet. He just sat there, still angry but shocked that such a tiny gesture to me had inflicted so much force upon him. I hadn’t knocked all of the dissension out of him, but it was enough for the moment. “Listen up, Craig,” I said, “we’re leaving the reunion early. We’re going back to my hotel room and then everything will make sense. You can go quiet, and make life easy on yourself, and trust me, I’ll reward your cooperation. Or you can fight this kicking in screaming and trust me, if you do, you’ll regret it within the hour. Understand?” He just sat there, trying to absorb my words, which to him were loud and booming. Looking at his shiny bald head sticking out of my fist, I couldn’t help myself, just reached up with a finger and stroked his smooth head. It was so warm and soft! My cock jumped, but I realized that if Craig was going to have any room to ride out of here without being noticed, I was going to have to keep my big dog down. I slid into the stall, unzipping my pants. I was wearing two pairs of tight boxer briefs, a habit I’d gotten into. It seemed silly, and I couldn’t explain it to just anybody, but if you throw an angry little muscle head directly on your cock and he wants to pitch a fit, he’s got your most tender parts there at his disposal. Sure, when I’d first tried it, I’d never really worried about a six-inch man, even one as built as most of the guy who caught my interest. But teeth, tiny fingernails and even their fists could do some damage. Up to a point, it’s really arousing, but after that, it got painful and I didn’t like to let a little guy know that he could cause me pain before I’ve knocked the fight out of him. I pulled open the waistband on the outer pair and dropped Craig in. He screamed as he fell, his now chipmunkesque voice filling the air until he fell against the cushion of my balls behind the inner pair of boxer briefs. I watched him struggle to stand up, taking in what was around him before I let the waistband snap back against my belly. I quickly pulled my pants back up, tucked my shirt in and buckled my belt. I could feel Craig moving around, and the sensations made me giddy. I wanted to play with him right there! But I had to calm down. This entire scene was as sloppy as it gets. There were a lot of witnesses, I did no research, and I hadn’t yet planned how I was going to cover my tracks. This wasn’t the time to get sloppy because my tiny beefstack was tickling my dick. Leaving the stall, I folded up Craig’s pants and opened up the cupboard below the sink. It was full of cleaning supplies, and I just yanked them out, stuffed Craig’s stuff behind it, and put it all back. I could swing back later in the evening to ditch them properly, but I didn’ t want to throw them in the trash like an amateur. Thinking quickly I fished his wallet out and put it in my pocket. If somebody found these clothes, better that they didn’t know who they belonged to (although the size might give it away, I conjectured). I had to thank my good fortune that nobody’d needed the bathroom the entire time I’d taken Craig down. I looked around the reunion and it was packed. I saw Chris wave at my from across the room, probably needing a hand with something, probably some responsibility I shirked. I saw Mandy at the bar, arguing with the bartender. I saw my old posse sitting miserably around their table, arms folded. More than half of our class, which was four hundred people when we graduated, was here, and now I had to make it to the door without arousing suspicion. I just kept looking down, acting like I felt nauseous, and most people left me alone. When people spoke up, I pretended not to hear them. When I got to the door, Ella grabbed my arm and smiled. “Leaving so soon?” “Geez,” I said, putting a hand to my forehead, “I need to swing to my hotel room really quickly. I forgot my medication. I’ll be right back though, promise. Spread the word.” Ella smiled and I headed up the door. As soon as I got into the driver’s seat of my car, I relaxed. Craig was screaming, and I could feel the high vibrations. It felt so good! I could’ve sat there forever getting a mini-hummer, but I had to get out. My cell phone rang--it was Chris. I silenced it and put the car in gear. I’d be right back with a silly medical explanation. They could all wait. I had to deal with Craig first. * * * My hotel was quiet as I pulled in and headed to my room. Craig sure had some stamina, still fighting away in my pants, and I hoped I was maintaining a natural stride as I walked down the hall. I couldn’t get the key in the door fast enough, and when it was finally opened I ran in, locked it with the chain and the deadbolt, and pulled the shades. Then, off came my pants. I looked down, grinning at the bulge that was jiggling and rustling around. I reached down and gently touched it. The bulge froze, then started raging with twice as much energy. “Craig,” I said loudly, and he stopped. I pulled open the outer pair and reached in, pulling out my prize. I held him up to my face. He clumsily backed away to my fingertips, freezing as he looked behind him to the mile drop to the floor. I just studied him, his every detail. So many times I’d had to just imagine what this looked like, imagine his huge muscles, the deep cleft of his hairless armpit, the way his big pecs jiggled when he moved, the power and masculinity that just emanated from his cock… I couldn’t restrain myself, and just leaned forward and planted a kiss on his chest. The warmth of his hard muscle against my lips made me want to do it again, but he had an expression on his face like I’d just sneezed or puked on him. I shook my head. “So many times I thought about you, Craig,” I said, putting him gently on the hotel bed. “I wanted you so badly. You were frightening. The bigger you got, the angrier you were.” I unbuttoned my shirt and stripped it off, tossing it aside. I knelt before him in just my underclothes. I wondered if he was using the same adjectives to describe me at that moment as I’d used so many times to describe him. “I used to wonder if inside, you didn’t want to be so big and strong anymore. You didn’t want people to be intimidated and afraid. Deep down, you wanted someone to hold you, to be strong for you.” I lay down on the bed, the weight-shift causing Craig to tumble backward and start bouncing down the depression toward me. I gently stopped him with my hand and lifted him up to my face. “I wanted someone to be strong for me, Craig, and I used to fantasize that you were that person. I would care for you, you would be strong for me, and in turn, I would be strong for you, and you would care for me. No one ever had to know, Craig. It would’ve been perfect.” I was casually rubbing my fingertips against him as he struggled to get away. I held him fast with the other hand, dreamily remembering the things I used to think about Craig in high school. “Listen to me!” I said, smirking. “I sound like a lunatic.” I sat up, taking back my power. “Listen, Craig, I’m not crazy here. I know you’re not gay and that’s cool with me. Whatever. I need to make one thing really clear.” I leaned in close. I could tell that a lot was going through his mind, and when my tone sounded conversational, he wasn’t listening. He was just desperately trying to think of a way to escape. This next message needed to stick, though, so I got in so that my nose barely grazed his chest. “This isn’t revenge. This isn’t a score I needed to settle. I didn’t shrink you and kidnap you because you were mean to me in high school or because you lived a life I thought I deserved or whatever. I’m not going to dress it up like that. This is lust, pure and simple. I thought you were hot when my hormones were just starting to fire off. You got a lot hotter, lemme tell ya, you ‘roidhead freak--not that I’m judging you for using steroids. I’m happy you did, you little beast you.” I reached my tongue out and gently grazed it against his belly. He twitched like it’d been a lit match. I grinned. “I need to show you something. Well, things, really.” I left him on my bed and walked away, keeping my eyes on him. I couldn’t have him running away and getting lost under the bed or anything, and I know the moment I broke eye contact he was going to try something. On the other side of the room, draped in shadow, was a long green blanket hanging over something long and boxy. I smiled at him as I casually moved a section of the blanket aside, reached in, and pulled out a jar. I kept my hands around the jar, not wanting to ruin the surprise until I had it right next to my little beefhead. “Craig, do you remember Aaron Kelman?” I set the jar next to him. Inside the jar, which looked greasy and distorted because of what I’d coated the interior of the jar with, stood a little Aaron Kelman, furiously rubbing his cock, balls and nipples against the glass. Craig stared, dumbfounded, as he saw little Aaron grinding, rubbing and moaning, his voice sounding like it was played at high speed as he smut-talked himself, grinding and begging to be fucked over and over. “Fuck me…” he begged in his chipmunk voice. “Fuck me, so hard, please… Please fill me up, please please fuck me… fuck me so hard, oh please…” Craig stood in shock, watching his football buddy who looked like he was a dog in heat. Aaron played football in college, then dropped out. He did a few cycles of ‘roids, did some modeling, then joined the military. During his time in Iraq he hit the ‘roids hard, coming back huge and solid with his beautiful face as the cherry on top. He also came back as cocky and mean-spirited as ever. I ran into him, realized nothing had changed, and decided I should do something about it. His present state was the result of the pink marble. “I had to cover the glass in Vaseline,” I told Craig, who was frozen in disbelief, “because if not he’d rub his nipples and his cock so hard that they’d rip right off. He wouldn’t stop then, either. He never stops. He just gets hornier and hornier and hornier. He’s never satisfied. He can’t even think of anything anymore. I can only get him to swallow food if he’s getting fucked and someone’s sucking his dick.” Aaron, having opened his eyes for just a moment, saw Craig through the bleary glass. Immediately, his body shock and he started humping at the glass. “Please… please!” he begged me, “please let me fuck him! Let him fuck me please let me fuck him let him fuck me he can fuck me so hard I swear oh god oh god I wanna fuck so bad so so so bad!” I removed the top of the jar and reached in gingerly with my finger. Aaron immediately spun around, grinding his ass up in the air, struggling to meet with the descending appendage. Let me tell you, when a little ‘roidhead marine who looks like Aaron points his huge muscular ass at you, you really think about letting him have whatever he wants, but I’d seen that sight a bunch. Aaron was always doing that. “Now, now, Aaron!” I chided. “Last time you powerfucked my finger, you got hurt really badly.” I pulled my finger away and replaced the cover. Aaron shook with frustration, whimpering in his high-pitched squeaky whine, pressing himself against the glass near Craig once again. “What did…” began Craig, pausing to cover his mouth as his own puny pip-squeaky voice surprised him. “What did you do to him?” “Shrinking you isn’t the only thing I can do to you,” I said, picking up Aaron’s jar and Craig and then approaching the large rectangular object beneath the blanket. “I made Aaron horny forever,” I said to Craig, who I cradled in my right hand. He wasn’t fighting so much anymore. I think showing him Aaron blew his mind. I couldn’t wait to see how he’d react to what he was about to see. “His sense of touch is a thousand times more sensitive, and his balls and his dick send out impulses that override his brain. He can barely think, barely function. Even a gentle breeze feels like a hand job to him. Sweat running down his body is like a sensual massage. Ever piece of him just wants to fuck fuck fuck. Not too different from the old Aaron, hunh?” I grinned. “C’mon, Craig, you guys hung out. You know what I mean.” I set Aaron’s glass down, letting him writhe away, as I moved the blanket again and reached in. “Jared?” I called sternly, and then pulled my hand out. I presented a miniaturized Jared Steede. Like most athletes Jared had gone on to college and spent four years at the top level of athleticism. Then after graduation, the drop in activity level, even with frequent visits to the gym, caused a full-body bloat. Rarely did it ever look bad, from what I’d seen, and Jared was no different. His thick, wide wrestler body was just more full now. He had a round, smooth belly now, a chubby face, and a tiny layer of softness all over. It made his muscles look a lot bigger and fuller. It was a permanent “offseason” look now, and I liked it. So much, in fact, that I kept it forever when I decided to make him 6 inches tall. Jared was gently caressing my hand as I carefully held him up, stroking my fingers with his body. It wasn’t the feverish hungry hump that Aaron always did, but a loving embrace. If he were big enough, he would hug me and never let me go. “Hello little man,” I said proudly. He beamed as I addressed him, smiling back at me. “I’d missed you!” he yelled, his voice as high-pitched as Craig’s and Aaron’s. He rubbed his bulky butt up and down my palm and I thought about jerking off right there, but realized that Craig still needed to be broken in. “I brought you a new toy!” I said. Both Jared and I knew that this new toy was for me, though. The little wrestler looked down at the new arrival, nodding casually. “Craig!” Jared said. Craig didn’t respond, so he yelled it: “CRAIG!” The little juice monkey looked up with a start, shocked to hear his name in such a high voice. He couldn’t believe that there was more than one tiny man, let alone that one would be talking to him! I placed Jared down on the ground and he approached Craig cautiously. “I figured you’d end up here eventually,” Jared said. “I know what he likes!” This last part he said while pointing up at me, not turning in my direction though. “I know how you feel, it’s really shocking, but it’ll all get easier in a little bit.” Jared smiled and folded his arms. “Your old life is over, Craig. It’ll be hard if you refuse to let go, but you can really take advantage of this new life. It doesn’t have to be like this!” He banged his fist against Aaron’s jar, causing Aaron to break into another spasmodic fit. “He changes everyone again after he makes you small, and he lets you choose how you want to change. Just choose to be like me. It’s the easiest one, and I promise you, Craig, I love my life. I’ve never loved anything more. Honestly.” “Never loved anything more?” I asked, interrupting his conversation. He meekly looked up at me with sad eyes. “You know I didn’t mean it like that! Forgive me,” Jared said, his face breaking into a smile. “You’re my everything. You begin and end my day. I never lived until the day you took me.” “What the fuck did he do to you?” asked Craig, who I could tell was having a hard time holding things together. “I made him love me,” I said, my booming voice crashing down on them from above. “I just made it so that he loves me more than anything else.” I had just exposed Jared to the purple marble. “It’s wonderful!” Jared said. “I know that I wasn’t always like this, that he made me like this, but…” Jared started pacing, shaking his head. “I was never this happy in my life! That happiest moment I can remember wasn’t a tenth of what I feel every single day because of him! It’s unbelievable!” My heart used to swell whenever Jared broke into these speeches. I used to beam with pride, overwhelmed that something in this world actually loved me. It was all hollow speech now. I was glad he loved me, sure, but I didn’t feel it back. I never earned his love, and I knew that. It was nice to make him happy sometimes, but that was the end of the joy I took from Jared’s love. All my life I’d just wanted a man to love me, and unfortunately I had to shrink a man and force him to love me before I could hear those words. But I never forgot that he was forced to love me. It wasn’t a quality about me he’d grown attached to, and my presence hadn’t grown on him. He just loved me because I said so, and he’d love me no matter what kind of person I was, whether I deserved it or not. It was like getting first prize in a contest you didn’t enter. And still, Jared was the only man in the world who’d ever said those words to me. “He gives you a choice, Craig,” Jared said. He didn’t get too close to Craig, mostly because he had experience talking to newly shrunk little men before. The wrong move, invading Craig’s space, could send the little meatstack into a rage. Of course, I would never let harm come to Jared, but Jared new that my job was easier if Craig just stayed calm and listened. “Everyone gets used to the nakedness. Everyone gets used to the sex. It’s actually kind of nice after you get accustomed. But when he changes you, you can become like any one of us. But if you don’t choose, he chooses for you.” Craig shook his head. “Us? Like you and Aaron?” Craig squeaked. From my perspective, I was enjoying the light glinting off Craig’s smooth shaven head. I wanted to lick it again. In time, I reminded myself, I could lick it all I wanted. “There are more,” Jared said, gesturing to the blanket-shrouded box. “You know everyone already, but not how they are. You’ll see how they all are, and believe me, you want to choose to be like me. He’ll be the most important thing in your world, and he’ll take care of you. It’s unbelievable.” “Listen to you guys!” I interjected, getting impatient. “My own little chipmunk theater!” Craig sneered, but Jared turned around with a bashful grin, blushing. The poor little guy still wasn’t used to his tiny voice, and I’d embarrassed him. I did, however, like how his buttcheeks got all rosy when he blushed. “Okay,” I said, “next introduction. You ready Craig?” I moved the blanket aside. It was a giant empty aquarium I’d altered to fit my needs. On the left side was a bunch of exercise equipment--little weights I’d soldered together with a little weight bench, a screw set ranging from small to large to be used as dumbbells, and a big hamster wheel. On the right side were various rows of beds, some of different sizes, but most made for tiny six-inch men. In the middle were a number of men, and I was certain that Craig felt his knees growing weak as he started recognizing them. I introduced the first as quickly as I could. “Say hello, Zeb!” I said, reach to the center. Zeb was almost 8 inches tall, by far the tallest of the little men. He looked like in experiment in extreme musculature. Every one of his muscles had swelled and bloated until he was a nearly spherical man, his arms stuck straight out while his legs were splayed apart by his enormous quads. His head looked tiny atop this mountain of shiny bloated muscle, nestled between two giant traps and some massive shoulder muscles. I grinned at my work. Zeb was fun to play with. “Zeb here was so big and sexy I wanted to make him bigger and sexier,” I said, pulling him out of the aquarium. I tossed the blanket back over. I was a showman. I didn’t want Craig seeing the next acts until I was ready. “So I just inflated every single muscle on his body until it was so huge he couldn’t move.” Zeb never had much in the way of abs, usually a big soft belly, but when I inflated his muscles his abs had suddenly enlarged and pressed out into a huge roidgut. I loved it. All this because of the green marble. Zeb had become completely immobile, even unable to look down past his mammoth chest to see things that were right in front of him, like Craig. “Who…” groaned squeaky little Zeb, “who’s there? Who is it?” I reached forward and gently tilted Zeb’s body forward until I saw recognition. “Oh, man, Craig, he got you too?” “I get everyone I want,” I said to Zeb, working a pinky inside his inhumanly large ass. Zeb’s new body, like Aaron’s body was hyper-sensitive. Just by sprinkling water on him I could cause Zeb to orgasm, or by gently tickling his nipples with a q-tip. Since it took so little to overload his brain, I liked pushing his limits, seeing how much stimulation his giant over beefed body could handle. As my pinky dug away, his whole body started shaking. His cock and his balls had inflated with the rest of the body, just as I’d wanted, but they were now as useless as his other appendages. His balls just hung, overfull sacks, like grapefruits around his knees. I liked to gently blow between his legs, causing them to swing back and forth, as he moaned and begged for me to stop. Even that tiny bit of interaction was enough to cause mind-bending sexual stimulation. His big, full cock, which hung above his balls like a deflated spare tire, just twitched and shook while this was going on, burping up precum by the gallon. His cock was thicker than a beer can now, and almost three times as long as most of the other tiny guys’ cocks, but it never got hard, just bobbed and spat out thick white spunk. When he climaxed, his whole body was rocked, but since he could barely move, he just wiggled a bunch while buckets of cum spilled from his permanently flaccid cock as he creamed like a woman. I usually found tears streaming from his eyes afterward. I almost felt bad for him--almost. Picking him up, I placed him in the aquarium. “Jared, get Brian and Jesse to make Zeb cum,” I ordered, placing Jared back in the aquarium also. Jared nodded. I’d placed a mini-jungle gym and a number of rocks and sticks in the middle area, trying to fashion a play-room, but annoyingly it gave the littles many places to hide. Luckily, I had a way to deal with that. I watched Jared dart around, searching for Brian and Jesse, finally emerging from behind a large stone with the two of them. They knew they’d be paraded around at some point when I’d started removing my little men for display, so they were hiding. They’d learn their lesson soon enough. When I found them, Brian had become a cop and Jesse was working construction in the same town. Their close friendship was still strong. They’d each become even more massive than they’d been in high school, with the rigors of their jobs and regular lifting sessions packing on more muscle while a lack of a coach to make them run laps bloated them up with an extra layer of beef. But I made sure to take away that feeling of hugeness, of power, that each of them held. Jared dragged the two of them along easily. The standard base scale for my reduction worked where one foot turns to one inch. With Brian and Jesse, I’d made sure that one foot turned to half an inch with the yellow marble. In an aquarium full of tiny men around six inches, they felt even tinier, even more helpless. Most of the other men could easily overpower them, even if they worked together. As Jared pulled the teeny men along, their big bellies jiggling as they tried to pull free, Jared sternly said, “If you don’t do what I say he’s going to put you in the jar with Aaron for a whole day.” I grinned. I hadn’t said that, but it was a great idea and I was proud of Jared for having thought of it. Aaron could easily do whatever he wanted to the little men, and they’d just have to go along. Facing that thought, Brian and Jesse slowly approached Zeb’s ridiculously over inflated body and started rubbing him down. “Not like that, boys,” I yelled in at them. “Get into it! I want Zeb to be swimming in his own cum!” Zeb sat there, his head shaking furiously, begging me to stop. “No no no no please no no no please don’t let them no please no!” “Sorry, Zebby,” I said, reaching in and giving him a poke in the chest with my finger. He fell slowly, like a tree, slamming down hard. Brian and Jesse ran like scared rabbits when he fell, then slowly approached again. Zeb’s cock flopped straight up in the air, hooking over at the end. Brian and Jesse jumped right on top of his body, Brian massaging Zeb’s pecs while Jesse came in tickling his toes and massaging his feet. Zeb’s tiny voice squeaked over and over as he squealed in ecstasy and agony, his cock pumping out liquid as the two tinier men went to town on his body. Knowing that I was watching, the two of them were doing their best. It wasn’t really that bad for them, since all they had to do was get Zeb to cum a couple of times, drive him into a real frenzy, and then they got out scot free. They were still getting over the “ickiness” of touch another naked man in his most sensitive areas, but each time they did the deed they looked a little less revolted, approached it more as a task they needed to accomplish than something they were being forced to do. I looked down at Craig, enjoying his reaction. He was frozen, just staring at the scene before him, wincing occasionally. He kept glancing up at me. I guessed he was waiting for his chance to make a break for it, or trying to figure out how I could do this to so many people. It was easy, I wanted to tell him. After awhile, you forget that you’re kidnapping, brainwashing and in some cases borderline-raping innocent young men whose only crime was being big and athletic. They had jobs, girlfriends, and families that missed them. I made sure never to grab anyone who was married or had kids, but they still all had people who wondered where they were on birthdays and holidays. Maybe some had pets that never got fed again. Thoughts like that wouldn’t have allowed me to do what I’d done. It was best to just think of it like this: all of their old lives had ended, and when their new lives began, it was as new people altogether. I looked back in the aquarium and took a look at Zeb getting worked over. I suddenly noticed that I couldn’t find Jared. “Jared?” I called. He normally came right to me, but then I realized where he was: busy digging Shawn out from the shadows. I’d run into Shawn at a bar two states away. It was entirely random, and another sign that I was fated to own these men, just like the accident that put the marbles in my possession. His car had broken down and he was waiting for a tow-truck, having a beer while he waited. I remembered sitting next to him, realizing that the built stud in the next seat was the guy I’d gone starry-eyed over in high school a dozen times. He had a short crew-cut, beautiful blue eyes, and he wore a flannel shirt that he filled out very nicely. I kept glancing at the back of the stool, watching his jeans-covered ass popping out behind him, wondering if I could slip a marble in his back pocket. I started conversation, asking him where he went to high school. Then I asked him if he knew my brother. He said he didn‘t recall the name. I asked him if he wanted another beer. He said no, got up, and walked away without another word. He would’ve just walked out of my life forever if I hadn’t slipped the red marble into his jeans. And then, when I took him home, I hit him with the orange marble. He was about the same height as Brian, three inches, but he had retained every bit of his mass as when he was six inches tall. It was like I’d taken a single finger and pressed down on his head, packing his mass into half as much height. He couldn’t move much, not nearly as immobile as Zeb but still hindered by his mass. His arms bounced up and down as he waddled around, his pecs popping out in cartoonish mounds in front of him, his ass doing the same thing behind him. “Now get to work!” Jared said, and Shawn joined Brian and Jesse on Zeb’s body, which was starting to get seriously coated in Zeb’s seed. Zeb big bloated cock was pouring out precum like a garden hose as it bobbed up and down, and Zeb’s face kept alternating between moments of unbelievable pain and overwhelming ecstasy. Shawn awkwardly climbed up onto Zeb’s big bloated body. Shawn’s smooshed little stature prevented him from any intricate movements. Gone were the days of being a four-sport athlete. His body was just for show now. Brian and Jesse didn’t stop what they were doing, but took note of Shawn’s rounded bulk as he tried to maintain balance on Zeb’s solid roidgut. I’d noticed animosity between them before, and I figured it was jealousy. They were all about the same height, but all of the little men regarded Brian and Jesse as tiny, while Shawn’s mass usually put him higher up on the hierarchy. As a perfect example, Jared had dragged Brian and Jesse, paying their protests no mind, while he’d merely coerced Shawn. I wasn’t concerned at all. They were all tiny little toys to me, and they all did what I told when I told them or they’d be punished. It was interesting to watch the three half-heights regard each other Shawn just looked more massive, Brian and Jesse more puny. It must’ve been an overwhelming role reversal for all of them. Brian and Jesse had gone to tickling and licking Zeb’s armpits (which were not only easily accessible with his arms splayed out straight, but also so deep they were actually an enjoyable chore to properly penetrate). Brian noticed Shawn, motioned to Jesse, and then headed up Zeb’s chest. Big ol’ Zeb started sobbing, thankful for a break in the physical stimulation. Brian headed up behind Shawn, ready to knock him down King of the Mountain style, but Shawn suddenly turned, his (relatively) huge fist grabbed Brian by the neck and held him up in the air. Brian kicked and yelped. Jesse tried to scramble up from the other side, but Jared came around the corner. “He’s watching, you know, and I don’t think he’s happy,” Jared said. “He could put all three of you in Aaron’s jar if you wanted.” The three grew silent, and then Shawn gently placed Brian back on the unsteady ground of Zeb’s chest. “Back to work,” he said, and the three of them continued their rubdown of poor old Zeb. I casually reached my hand in and stroked Shawn’s bulbous chest, making his pec meat jiggle. He just stood there while I looked down at him, licking my lips. “Lookin’ good Shawn!” I said, rubbing his head gently. Shawn always suffered his indignities quietly. The important part, though, was that Brian and Jesse saw the display, and I could see them fuming about it. I liked to keep things interesting. “Getting any ideas yet?” I asked Craig, who had collapsed to his knees. “We’re not done yet, just so you know. I have a few more to show you, and then it’s your turn to pick. You can be any of these things, or you let me choose. Trust me, I have more up my sleeve than what you see here, too, so keep that in mind.” I noticed someone huddled in the back corner of the aquarium, so I decided to take him out to show him off. Reaching back quickly, I snatched Chris Legassie from the corner, holding him up for Craig to see. Chris looked terrified, more than the others did when I grabbed them, and with good reason. Awhile ago I’d been at a party thrown by a wealthy friend of mine. It was an uppity mixer, bottles of Grey Goose and cases of Red Bull everywhere and an air of self-importance surrounding everyone. I was drunk, smoking a cigarette on the deck, when I overheard a loud conversation about a guy slurring a story. I overheard the phrase “Spaulding High” and immediately spun around. “Did you go to Spaulding?” I asked, drunk and having a hard time making out who it was. “Yeah, he said, did you?” “Class of 1998!” I said. “Class of 1999,” he replied. “That’s weird, I don’t recognize you.” “Well, I’ve changed a lot,” I said, “and not that many people knew me while I was there.” He grinned, and looked around at the three women who’d been listening intently to his tale. At that moment I recognized him. It was Chris. We’d never spoken. I’d only seen him, knew of him through his status, and masturbated to thoughts of him and his huge lanky body numerous times. “Well, I don’t know, I guess not a lot of people knew me either,” he said to his female-entourage-of-three. “How would they? I was only All-State Basketball for three years, MVP for four years, and had pictures on 22 pages on the yearbook.” He laughed, as if his “ironic statement” was meant to be funny, and the idiot women around him laughed too. “Yeah, not many people knew me at all!” What a cocky dick, I thought, my ire rising. Who counts their yearbook pages and then throws that statistic into someone’s face? Had it been meant to make me feel bad or was it to make me impressed? I figured, through my drunken haze, that it was for the benefit of the three women who were basking in him. His cockiness was irritating, and, I’d established even through my dull wits, unwarranted. Who brags about high school, I thought? Who brags about the yearbook? I bet I’d just interrupted a long session of these woman fawning over Chris while he spouted off his accomplishments and spoke of his own excellence. I had no idea what he was up to in life, or even what he was doing at that party, but his attitude had burned me. I found Chris sleeping in his car early the next morning. At first, I wondered if he hadn’t in fact found a woman to bed with, but then I noticed the keys were in his hand. He was trying to get somewhere. The door was unlocked. The rest was easy. As I presented Chris to Craig, could feel my little basketball star trembling. Chris’ transformation was the most dramatic of all of them, and I couldn’t wait to show it off. I made sure Craig recognized Chris as I held him out. Even at this size, Chris’ body was long, almost seven inches. “Remember him? He was younger than we were,” I reminded. Craig just shook his head--not as a negative response, I guessed, but because he couldn’t take much more. I braced my forefinger against my thumb and thwacked Chris in the head. He cried out in surprise, but his head bounced right back. I did it again, and while Chris looked surprised and uncomfortable, he didn’t seem to be feeling any pain. I couldn’t wait to show off the rest. “Check it out, Craig,” I said, holding Chris around his legs and banged him against the hard floor a couple of times, holding him back up for Craig’s absorption. “He feels no pain. Sure, it doesn’t feel good getting slapped around like that, but he can’t be hurt. That’s why I don’t feel bad doing this.” I reached up and grabbed his right arm and yanked, and it stretched out until it was longer than his whole body was. Chris moaned, again, not in agony but in distress. His arm would stay like that for a little while before snapping back to normal. That‘s what I got from the brown marble. “He’s my own private clay-man. Isn’t he cool?” I said. Visually, Chris tended to be the most distressing of all my men, and I could see Craig’s bugeyes as he watched. Chris whimpered as his elongated arm weakly moved around, the fingers grabbing the air an inch above the floor, struggling to touch get a hand-hold. I grabbed his arm and guided it until the hand at the end of the cartoonish arm was grazing Craig’s face. Craig swiped the fingers away, backing up until his back hit the cold glass of the aquarium. He then turned around, shocked, and saw the scene of the three midgets crawling over big bloated Zeb, all covered in cum, and took a step back from that. He spun around and stared up at me, and I smiled. “Watch this,” I said, setting Chris on the floor and pulling a bag out from next to my bed. I pulled out a small rolling pin and Chris let out a high-pitched shriek. With a wicked grin I pressed down with the rolling pin, flattening out Chris’ feet until they looked like pennies on a railroad track. I kept rolling and rolling as Chris begged me to stop. It was almost a shame. His body was still long but strong, thick basketball muscles still as strong, if not stronger, than they’d been in high school. His dick arced up from his groin, and I smirked as I rolled over it. He squealed, and as I looked at the flattened out mess that used to be his pelvis, I saw that I couldn’t even make out what used to be his dick. I actually had a little remorse (for just a second) as I looked at his chiseled abs, and his muscular torso. It wasn’t as big or bulky as any of the other guys’, but it still looked really good… until I smooshed it into a formless, flat tan mass. I finally rolled over his face. His voice still came, although muffled. Looking at my flattened out man, who seemed to be all over the place compared to his size before, I started tidily rolling, starting with the smooshed areas that used to be called feet. Then I rolled up his “legs,” continuing up, tighter and tighter, until I had a tight tube, about four inches wide and about one inch thick. I tossed it into the aquarium, where it bounced a couple of times and then rolled away. “He’ll go back to normal,” I said to Craig with a wink. “In a few hours. Until then, he has to be a human roll-up. Can you imagine how that feels? Being rolled in on yourself? Being unable to move? What would your eyes and ears be picking up? What about your skin? What kind of sensations…” I nudged Craig with a finger. “Depending on how things go, you can either ask him… or you’ll find out first-hand.” Eager to get the introductions over with, I leaned into the aquarium and shouted, “Brock, Josh, present yourselves now!” The two little hotties came running out of opposite ends of the aquarium, each hiding under a large branch. For a moment, I wondered why they were alone, but then I realized that they probably figured they could hide below the radar if they separated. I couldn’t imagine it had been easy for either of them. I imagined being huddled in the darkness, praying none of the other tiny men would sell you out, purposely staying away from the one being in the world you wanted to be near more than any other. As they stood there, at attention, each of them looked heartbroken, not only having been rabbited out of hiding (quite easily, and they should’ve expected that, to be honest) but also to be near each other but not having permission yet to touch each other. “All right, boys, show me how much you missed each other,” I said, motioning for Craig to watch. Brock and Josh ran to each other, collapsing into each other’s arms. It was really hot, actually, watching those naked muscles collapse together. Brock was taller, but Josh was beefier, and the latter seemed to be lifting Brock off the ground as he embraced him. I watched as their mouths crazily lapped at each other, arms going wild, fingers pressing deeply into flesh, hips grinding together. I envied them, never having been touched like that by anyone, even to a lesser degree. Jared “loved” me, but he could never pick me up in his arms like I’d always needed. Brock and Josh hadn’t been in love when I’d run into them again. From what I could gather, they were each working sales jobs in different companies in the same city. Brock had just gotten out of a long-term relationship and Josh was a career bachelor. The two would meet after work, go to the gym, then go out for some beers and sometimes, some pussy. They had quite the life, and had a lot ahead of them. I envied their bachelor status. It was how I’d always envisioned my life would’ve been had I been born straight. It had almost been too difficult for me to watch. To prove a point, I leaned in and said, “Brock!” I had his attention, I knew, but he still had to carry out my prior order. “Brock, you are now in love with Shawn. You love him more than you’ve ever loved anyone in the whole world. Your body aches without him. You need him now, more than you even need to breathe.” Brock’s high-pitched squeak came out long and drawn out, like a moan. Both hands went up to Josh’s face, stopping him. He shook his head, looking away from Josh to the muscle packed midget on top of Mount Zeb. I watched both Brock and Josh’s faces contort in pain and confusion. Brock pushed Josh away, staggering toward Zeb, desperate to climb up to be with Shawn. “Brock, no!” cried Josh. “Please! I need you! Please don’t leave me!” Brock shook his head. “Shut up! You know you don’t mean that! Get away from me!” Tears came from both of their eyes. “Anything I say,” I said, tapping Craig to remind him that this wasn’t a dream, but very real, “becomes real to them. Every command that I utter becomes their reality. They follow whatever I say, believe whatever I command. You can, too, if you want.” It was all the effect of the blue marble. Brock had scaled Zeb and was trying to get his arms around Shawn, begging him to kiss him. Shawn had fought back, his little stocky arms pushing Brock away. Both of their squeaky voices were shouting, and I couldn’t clearly make out what they were saying. I didn’t care. Josh, on the ground, had fallen to his knees, hysterically sobbing. “BROCK! JOSH!” I yelled, and they both turned up to me. “Front and center! Stand at attention!” The both ran forward and stared up at me, their faces full of fear. I liked that. “As soon as I put you into his jar,” I said, a smirk across my face, “I want you two to do everything in your power to try to satisfy Aaron.” The two tiny faces went pale. “You won’t get tired until I tell you.” I could actually see them shivering from where I stood. I reached down and lifted them up, grabbing Aaron’s jar and plopping them in. Aaron was on them like a starved animal (which he was) and Brock and Josh got right into it. Immediately Aaron was plowing Josh’s ass, who got right into it, furiously fucking right back. Brock got behind Aaron without hesitation and just started pounding away, his fingers tweaking Aaron’s nipples. Aaron went back and forth from kissing Brock to kissing Josh. They three immediately become one big undulating mass. I set it next to Craig with a grin. He backed away, horrified. The sounds coming from the jar sounded like a gay bathhouse with a helium leak. “Now it’s time,” I said. I reached into the backpack and pulled an empty jar forth. Craig looked at the mass of gay sex in the greasy jar and then at the empty one coming down at him. He started to run but I easily snatched him up, holding him about an inch from my face. I grinned. He swung out with his meaty fists, and I just shook my head. It felt so great to hold him under his inhuman lats, appreciating the massiveness of his back, the strong tapers down to his thick waist. “Do you get it yet?” I said calmly. “I can do whatever I want to you. The more you fight, the worse it’ll be. Don’t hold onto your pride, because I’m just going to take that away from you anyway. You can make it easy, or you can make it hard. Look around, Craig, and choose your new life. What will it be? Choose which one of your old buddies you want to be like… or I’ll choose for you. And I have tricks up my sleeve you have seen yet.” Craig looked down at the scene around him. It probably looked to him like an obscene amusement park, his view from the top of the ferris wheel. Brian, Jesse and Shawn were still over-pumping poor Zeb, who sat there squealing for them to, “Stop!” and “Keep going!” and “Please! Please! Pleease!” In the jar, Brock and Josh were trying to match Aaron’s sexual intensity, but falling short. None of them would even begin to fatigue until I said the word. Chris didn’t even look human anymore, more like a rolled up piece of bologna, rolling around helplessly near Jared, who stared up at me longingly. “Time’s up, Craig,” I said, giving him a gentle shake. “Take your pick.” He turned to me, sat there silently for a moment, before his eyes finally lit up. He’d made a decision. His head reared back and then cocked forward. I could barely hear the sound of it, but only knew that he’d spit at me because of his facial expressions, and because I’d been spit at by a tiny man before. I rolled my eyes. “You idiot,” I said. “That bit of spit couldn’t have been more than a few molecules. Do you really think that was going to be worth it? That tiny act of disrespect versus what it just cost you?” I plunked him unceremoniously in the empty jar and stood up to get the marbles. I noticed Jared sitting quietly in the aquarium, watching me leave with a pained look on his face. I rolled my eyes--only after I knew he couldn’t see--and considered changing what I’d done to him. I knew he was sitting there, wanting so badly to be close to me but terrified to ask. I wondered what that was like, that desire for approval, the fear of being rejected, the overwhelming reward when the object of your affection gives you tenderness and attention. I’d never had that before, and probably never would. Jared would always love me, whenever I wanted, even when I didn’t want it. I couldn’t ever do anything wrong in his eyes, and it almost made his adoration feel disposable. I almost resented it at times. Jared was the first I shrank. I didn’t give him the choice, just made him love me. I thought it would be enough, but it wasn’t. I shrank others, telling them about the wonderful and horrible things I could do to them, and gave each the choice. Every single one of my tiny men chose nothing, telling me to fuck myself or spitting at me, cursing my name or attacking me in some way. I could never understand it. When faced with some really terrible looking scenarios, or the option of just being in love with me, they rejected me, forced me to choose on my own. To me, I thought that the purple marble was the easy way out, but none of the tiny men did. Apparently, being in love with me was just as bad as any of the other possibilities. I pulled out the velvet bag and fished around, pulling out the white marble. A quick breath and it lit up, glowing brightly. I dropped it into the jar. It bounced twice before resting several feet (to him) from Craig. He looked at it in horror. “Not sure if you’ve been paying attention,” I asked, “but the white marble doesn’t do any of the things that I already showed you, but it’s one I think fits you perfectly.” Back in the aquarium, Jared (the only little man unoccupied) had come over to the wall to watch the show. He pressed his face up against the cold glass. Feeling a little pity, and knowing it was what he wanted, I snatched him up and held him in my hand as it happened. He snuggled down into my fist as he watched. Craig tried to scramble up the smooth glass, but his bulky but just wasn’t agile enough to make any headway (and since he wasn’t Spiderman, he wasn’t going anywhere). The white marble sat there glowing and Craig shielded his eyes from it. What an idiot. “It doesn’t have to touch you, and you don’t have to look at it,” I said, watching my new little meat monkey struggle. “Look, you can’t get away with this. If I wanted, I could just make it touch you like this.” I tilted the jar and the white marble rolled to him. He tried to get away and I tipped it more. It rolled between his gigantic thighs. He couldn’t find any foothold to right himself, but he still struggled away. As the white marble glowed away, Craig’s struggle, the determination on his face, became spotty and intermittent. He kept having moments of confusion, where I’m sure he forgot what was going on, or where he was. I set the jar down and he stumbled around, disoriented, but the fight in him was dying. Finally, he just stopped moving. His face looked blank, emotionless, and his gigantic meaty shoulders just started rising and falling casually. He looked almost relaxed as he slowly eyeballed his body, from his feet up through his gigantic thighs, past his big masculine cock and up his overwhelmingly powerful torso. He started flexing his biceps casually, examining his own meaty forearms as if it were the first time he’d discovered them. His body seemed to droop and sag a bit, going forward, as his forearms and fists grew bigger and more solid. His spine seemed to reshape and his posture slid forward until he was almost resting on his knuckles. His whole body hadn’t changed much, but he had devolved slightly, having a distinct apelike quality to his body as much as being an overdeveloped meatstack of a man. I smiled, realizing the work was done. Craig seemed happy like that. His mind had been wiped totally clean, and his body made into a (relatively) gigantic bulky Neanderthal (which, to be honest, didn’t require much change). Craig’s brains were now located mostly in his huge muscles, but also in his big cock. He’d live to flex, fuck, and overpower the other little men. To be honest, I thought, Craig was getting out of this pretty easy. Chris was going to be horrified. I wondered if some of them would beg to feel the white marble. I reached down and went to grab Craig’s new body. He grabbed onto my fingers with his powerful hands. I was impressed with their strength, and as I lifted him out I started to get a boner just watching the arrogance of a six-inch tall caveman looking at me, sizing me up. With a smirk, I put him into the aquarium. I put Jared in next to him. Craig grunted, and Jared smiled, looking Craig up and down. Craig’s pecs bounced one at a time, over and over, and then he started flexing his biceps. Jared smiled, looked back up at me, and then Craig pounced, immediately mounting poor Jared. Luckily my little wrestler seemed to almost enjoy it after the initial surprise wore off. Jared wasn’t accustomed to being “taken down” like that, but Craig was WAY out of his weight class. I took a deep breath and pulled out my cell phone--eleven missed calls. I shook my head. I’d forgotten all about the reunion! I still had to go back and make sure my trail was covered, that nobody would connect Craig’s disappearance with me. On the other hand, how could I leave the scene in front of me? I started unbuckling my shirt, speeding up as my eager erection expanded. “Well, boys,” I said to the whole lot of them, “looks like we’re having our own little reunion.”

Bigger, stronger, every single day.

He broke PRs every time he picked up a bar, his body swelling like bread dough while he slept.

He didn't know it, but soon he'd be an immobile pile of flesh, wiggling fingers and toes, his panicked eyes just poking up over his swollen pecs and traps.

Terry Hollands Week--CALL FOR ARTISTS

Anybody remember when I wrote stories about a transformed Richie Incognito every day for a week awhile ago? I’ve chosen a new victim. This big slab of meat, Terry Hollands, is going to be the new subject of a series of transformation stories, in all of which he’s going to end up on the short end of the deal (very literally in some cases). Because I lack any sort of visual artistic skill, I’d love it if anyone could offer any sort of pic (no matter the medium, no matter the transformation) for me to write a story about.

I’m open to just about any scenario in which Terry is changed in a way that puts him lower on the food chain--shrinking, twinkification, muscle drain/theft, inanimate, animal transformation, muscle inflation/immobilization, trait swap, age regression/progression, blueberry transformation... Am I leaving anything out? If any of you talented deviant-minded folks could whip something up, that would be AMAZING. In the meantime I’m going to try to cobble out 7 or more stories where this big fella ends up losing his strongman status. Please please please shoot me a line if you’re interested in collaborating in any way (and if any writers have any ideas to pitch at me, speak up!).

He didn’t believe I could make good on what I’d offered until he heard the sound of rubber stretching as mass poured onto his frame. His eyes got wide as he saw himself in the mirror, already huge muscles expanding like rising bread.

“Holy shit… You fucking serious?” he said, bringing two titanic arms up into a double biceps pose, pausing to fully acknowledge their new girth. “How is this even fucking possible?” he asked.

“Do you care?” I snapped as I walked a semi-circle around him, admiring my work. “One snap of my fingers and you’ll double in size. Sound good?”

He bounced two big mounds of pec beneath his cut-off. “Fuck, dude, what’s the catch?”

Walking up beside him I ran the palm of my hand up his lats, my fingers resting in his deep muscle-pits. I could see him struggling to resist the tickle. “Who said anything about catch? You wanna be the biggest dude in this state or what?”

He looked down on his widened frame and quietly moaned, “Yes, please…”

Then the real change happened. Shoulders and traps swelled, swallowing his head. Arms blew up on lats getting wider by the second. He had to adjust his stance to adjust the doubled diameter of his broadening thighs. “Fuck,” he said. Even the muscles in his face had grown, squeezing his mouth into a grimace. “I’m fucking… huge…” he said through clenched teeth. “Wonder how much I weigh?”

There, of course, was the catch, but I wasn’t about to ruin the surprise for him just yet.

“There’s a scale behind us,” I said. “Go check it out.”

It took him a full minute just to get his blimp-sized body turned around. It took even longer to get any momentum going. His new legs were so engorged with muscle he could only move a few inches at a time. “Shit… fuck... “ he said, his fingers wiggling in frustration (the only movement he could really manage).

He started building up speed about halfway across the room (long minutes later, of course). Then he took a step and suddenly lifted off the floor, floating a few feet before touching down like he’d walked on the moon. “What was that?” he said. He took another step and went even further, drifting a few inches above the ground before gently touching down again. “What’s goin’ on?” he said as the last of his new mass settled into place. He was nearly spherical now, solid bulging muscle, arms and legs out straight. Movement for the poor guy was now impossible--but that wasn’t the last change to be had. He gasped loudly as his feet suddenly lifted from the ground.

He strained to touch his toes to the floor again but they got further away. I had to surpress the urge to laugh at his expression as gentle air currents caused him to tilt, slowly rotating him until he was upside.

“If you’re curious,” I taunted, squatting down so I could be face to face with him, “you’re practically weightless, and soon to be less than that. All that mass? Full of helium. You’re now a big old muscle balloon. I collect them, you see.” Out of my gym bag I pulled out a heavy metal ball attached by chain to a collar I fit around his neck. “Can’t having you float away on me now. You’re going to love it in my garden. You’ll be my eighth bodybuilder balloon. All swaying in the wind, whimpering and moaning. Hopefully those nasty raccoons don’t get back in again with those sharp claws.”

His eyes darted around wildly and I couldn’t resist so I kissed him, knowing he couldn’t do anything but accept it. “Just like Spider-man, hunh?” I said, giving his over-muscled cheeks a gentle pat.

BrandedX2: “Big Guys Taken Down a Notch”

New content every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday.

You’d expect it to be cool to the touch, but my statue still gives off heat. The sensation’s a little unnerving when you place your hand on it. Put your ear on its chest and you can still hear a heart beating. But a few raps with your fist will disabuse any admirer of the idea that this little art installation is anything more than a clever art project made with some interesting tricks.

No one ever does ouf course, but if you were to place your lips against the statue’s, a connection would made. Inside your head you’d hear a man’s frantic, breathy voice panting like he just biked up a mountainside. He’d desperately tell you that he’s not a statue, that he has a name--Allen--and some lunatic (me) lured him here with a modeling contract and coated him with a spray that turned him into living stone. And if you were to pull down the still-warm posing trunks and place your tongue on its solid stone penis, you’d create another connection. See, this statue that used to be a man still possesses the ability to feel, magnified a thousand times. Since it’s made of stone, no sensation ever truly fades away. “Allen” as the statue used to be called still feels every sensation from every touch since he assumed that position with exponential intensity. Place your whole warm wet mouth around his stone penis and you’d hear that same breathy voice moan and scream in ecstasy no human man has ever felt. It must be an exquisite torture, I’d imagine. But no one ever does, of course. No one except the artist.

BrandedX2: “Big Guys Taken Down a Notch”

New content every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday.

Allen Richards

Love Muscle

Happy Valentine’s Day. Here’s my contribution to the dateless.

As little Cupie flitted and fluttered around the world, seeing all of the joyful humans and their roses and chocolates and champagne toasts, celebrating the joyful paradise of a life with love, he sensed a great emptiness. While most warm bodies blasted out warm, he sensed a place of cold metal and hard, unfeeling bodies, gritted teeth, pain and sacrifice and passion without affection. It was love’s most special day; Cupie had to do something! So he descended upon Global Gym, zipped on his magical little wings through the packed parking lot, and took a deep breath of fresh air before he entered the stagnant musk of this sweat-filled dungeon.Inside were many man, big as buffalo and hard as steel, some more perfectly carved than statues. 

As Cupie inspected the marvelously shaped men, he found each of them desperately fighting a hole in their hearts, trying so hard to hide a need for tender touch behind armor of massive flesh.At least, that’s what it looked like to Cupie. And he couldn’t allow this at all. He would fix that right away.

Gathered in a small huddle around a big metal rack were four apelike men, hairy and thick and barely able to move from their enormous swollen muscles. “Powerlifters,” they called themselves, but how powerful can you be without the power of love?

Their leader, a stout barrel-shaped man with a long beard, wore a perma-scowl as he moved many times his own bodyweight in metal, lifting it from the ground and putting it back down. The other brutes in his entourage clapped their chalky hands on his back before each lift, helped him pull his belt tight, barked at him, “You’ve got this bro!”“Deadlifting” they called it. Well, it was time to come alive, Cupie thought, and as the powerful man waddled toward the overloaded bar, Cupie pulled a special arrow from his quiver and fired.

The beastly man clapped his massive hands together, producing a cloud of chalk that surrounded him as the invisible, magical arrow struck him. As the chalk cleared, the man found himself now half his size, swimming in oversized clothes. His still-buckled weight belt clattered to the ground and he stumbled around awkwardly. He struggled to escape his now-tentlike shirt, stepping out of ludicrously oversized shoes and staring up at his three companions, now each three times his size. More overwhelming than the garguantuan men staring at him was the dull throbbing from his ass--an ass that had stayed basically the same size while the rest of him shriveled, now bulbous and unwieldy behind an otherwise petite man--that seemed to beg for his attention. That’s when Cupie let loose three more arrows for his friends.

The one who’d tightened his belt reached out with a meaty paw and yanked the big shirt away, revealing the little man in his newfound glory: a slender, hairless man with a huge inviting rear end. Each of the man felt a stirring in their loins looking at the little man, especially his bulbous backside, and each of them started to perspire. The little guy, suddenly more flexible than he’d ever been, folded at the waist, presented his prized asset to his buddies and grabbed his dainty little ankles. The former powerhouse thrilled as the buddy who’d cheered on his left reached out a thick, chalk-caked digit and gently tweaked the crack of the newly-tiny man’s voluptuous behind, eliciting a squeal that invited all three men to move in closer, their pulses quickened, their loins stirring like never before.

In another room, a powerful man stood nearly nude before a mirror, crunching up his lumpy arms and legs and making the muscles big and hard. Nearby an older gentlemen, with just as much unnecessary muscle as the younger man but gristled with age, sat on a bench, calling out strange directions. 

“Nice, Tony, now front double bi. Great. Show me that abdominal-thigh.” Cupie eyed this strange scene and sensed a latent affection between the men. The rippling Tony, his skin stained dark brown for some reason, seemed to be desperate for the approval of the older gentleman--so much that he’d put on what looked like tiny panties and squeeze his body up in public just to win it--while the older gentleman looked at Tony with a sense of pride, like he was his own creation.

Cupie could work with this.

One very powerful arrow shot into the wide slabs of beef hanging off Tony’s Chest. He didn’t sense anything at first, but then the older man said, “All right, show me that lat spread.” Tony put his fists on his hips and spread his back wide--and it just kept spreading. Tony’s wide back, his bumpy arms and veiny legs all spread out like dough, more muscle pouring onto his frame than he’d ever conceived of before. As his chest and shoulders swelled up around his head, he looked around nervously, his legs splayed out impossibly far to accomodate their thickness while remaining upright.

The older man was shocked for a moment until another of Cupie’s arrows struck him. He proudly rose from the stool and did a lap around the muscular monstrosity he’d created, surveying it with pride, and buried his fingers into the deep ridges between each blimped out muscle, causing Tony to squeal with overwhelming ecstasy. He was now a practically immobile pile of muscle, only able to barely wiggle his toes and fingers while his big dick (swollen like the rest of him, and stretching his overstuffed little underwear to the limit) burped and sputtered cum.

“Don’t worry about the mess, Tony,” the coach said, tickling the overample flesh of his freakish creation. “I’ll take care of it later. Let’s just appreciate all the muscle I’ve built on you. Later on, when they had privacy, he’d take a dildo the size of a baseball bat and get into the really sensitive parts of his muscle-beast, but for now he’d just appreciate the unbelievable mass he’d created with some deep-tissue style massage across dense muscle that was now as sensitive as a cock-head. Tony could only squeal and whimper, delighting in his own helplessness and the attentive caress of his coach.

In the musky, humid locker room, Cupie found  a giant man--six and a half feet tall, at least, wide as a door, stripping out of sweat-soaked clothes before a shower. Next to him, a man the same age but less than half his size tried not to notice the hairy brawn unveiling itself in the same room. Cupie sensed in the smaller man a deep desire to nuzzle into the powerful arms of the big guy. In the big man he sensed coldness, scar-tissue from years of smashing into other powerful men wrapped in hard equipment on big fields to the adoration of screaming fans. 

So much pain in his past, Cupie lamented. This, he could fix.

Cupie fired one of his favorite arrows--it traveled into the big ogre and then a moment later emerged from him and plunged into the body of the smaller man. Suddenly the big hulk’s body started to compress. While he remained exactly proportionate, he grew smaller and smaller while the little guy’s frame started to grow up and out, widening and thickening as it went. The not-so-little-anymore guy watched with amazement as his eye level rose, the room starting to shrink down around him. He grew muscles he never thought he’d have, patting around himself to test all the new lumps and their pleasing density.

The new giant got nervous when his head bumped the ceiling but then the changes seemed to stop. He crouched down, wondering if he was too big to get out of the locker room now, until he noticed the hulk-no-more next to him, still the same shape as before but now the size of a teddy bear.

Having watched everything grow as he diminished as a human being, the newly teddified man felt himself overwhelmed with fear; how could he survive in a world that was so big after having looked down on it for so many years? Then he felt an impossible huge tongue lick the length of his body, so forcefully he fell over, and stared up in awe at the brand new giant before him. The giant man extended a beefy arm and although he knew that he’d been robbed of his size, that it had been donated to this newly gargantuan man, the new giant’s touch filled him with warmth and safety and teddy-bear-sized hulk nestled into it, wishing he never had to be anywhere without it.

Cupie nodded his head at the change, satisfied at his work, and checked his quiver: it was full of arrows, and this place was full of people in need of love. He had work to do.

NEW *FREE FOR EVERYONE* STORY AT MY PATREON

“Cut Down to Size”

Craig is a 6′11″ basketball player looking for a more manageable height. He finds a solution that scrunches him down while redistributing his mass, but when is it going to stop? Here’s a taste: When he lost those first few inches he was thrilled. Not only was he starting to get down to a manageable height, but the mass redistributions gave him big lumpy muscles like he’d never known before. I had to say, he looked very good beefed up. Soon he was down to 6’5”, looking like an NFL star or a UFC fighter. He showed up in my office for an in-person checkout and I couldn’t believe how dense he looked. He even beat on his big pecs proudly like a gorilla, so excited about his new body.

Come check it out! If you like midgetization or muscle immobilization this story will fire you right up.

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