It lasted nearly a full minute before it finally slowed and Russell could catch his breath, looking at the mess in front of him, unable to believe that all of that had really just come out of him. The smell of it was only making him horny again, and as he idly stroked his softening cock, he realized he could go for another round right now–and he was tempted to do so. No–no, he had to get a hold of himself. This was too much, why had he pressed that button again? Hell, twice more! It was stupid–now, he really was going to get dragged off to some laboratory for experimentation.

He ducked out from under the bathroom doorway, and the air was clearer there–slightly. It at least helped him think better, especially now that he shot his load, and like he’d suspected earlier…his mind really did feel sharper, somehow, though it was difficult to describe how, exactly. He focused on the problem at hand, and looked back down at the watch, seeing if there was something he had missed before on it. The device had recalibrated once more and was ready for another injection…and even if he was tempted, this was enough, wasn’t it? Yes, of course it was–still…he couldn’t help but imagine what he might look like after yet another dose…or two.

He needed to get this thing off of him, and he needed to do it now. He didn’t know if it was addictive, or what, but he couldn’t afford the temptation. He examined it, closer this time, and noticed a small recessed clasp on the inside of the band. It took some maneuvering with his thick fingers, but with a pop the watch came free and clattered the ground, where it shut off. Russell heaved a sigh of relief–that was over, at least. He picked up the watch and set it on the table in the hall, and considered the next problem–the big problem. What was he going to do now?

It was only a matter of time before his parents got home, and he had two choices–he could be here when they arrived, or he could run. But where would he go? It wasn’t like he was going to have an easy time finding a place to hide, looking like an eight foot tall gorilla staggering around the streets. He didn’t even have any clothes that would fit him, anyway. He had to stay, and hope that his parents wouldn’t…freak out. Well, they would freak out, but hopefully they wouldn’t call the cops or something insane like that. So, he just had to sit and wait–that was the best course of action by far.

His eyes flitted to the watch, still sitting on the table, and he looked away again. No–as much as he might…want to, it wasn’t safe. It was so far out of hand already. Hell, he didn’t even look like a person anymore–certainly not like a teenager by any stretch of the imagination, even if he did feel, in some ways, just like that old, small, frail version of himself from earlier in the day…and he hated that. Look at him! He was huge! He didn’t have anything to be afraid of, he didn’t have to be afraid of anything, and yet…he was afraid. He was afraid of that watch, and he was afraid of himself and this body, and he was afraid of what was going to happen to him, once his parents–once the world–found out about him.

But what if he didn’t have to be afraid? If he was bigger…he wouldn’t be afraid then, would he? What if he was so big, no one could stop him?

He shook his head, and looked away from the watch again. He couldn’t be big enough to outrun all of this, there was no way. Still, even if it couldn’t solve anything, there was no…denying how much he wanted to put that watch on, and press that button, and feel that…rush. It wasn’t an addiction. He didn’t need it. He wasn’t shaking, and he didn’t feel sick. No–he could admit that. He wanted it. He wanted to be bigger than this, he wanted to be bigger than everyone else, in the whole world. He…wanted to control it. He wanted men at his massive feet, cleaning them, sniffing his pits, sucking his cock, riding him, their guts distending with his massive loads. His cock was hard again, and he was stroking it slowly, head down near his pits, taking gentle snorts of his own musk. He could want it–that was alright. But he wasn’t going to do it. He told himself that, but wasn’t sure whether he believed it or not, in his head.

He was hungry though–hungrier than he could remember being before, which didn’t seem at all surprising. He went into the kitchen and found as many snacks as he could, and started gorging himself, anything to keep his mind off the watch, still sitting on the table there, when he heard the doorbell ring, and he froze.

It wasn’t mere horniness–he’d been horny before. Hell, being horny was the one aspect of being a teenager he’d ever been able to relate to. No–this wasn’t mere horniness–this was a raw, aching desire to fuck. He wanted to fuck someone–he wanted to fuck a man. He wanted to top them, and drive his massive cock into them–he wanted to feel them squirm, he wanted to…to dominate them. He looked at himself in the mirror and grinned, admiring the full pelt of hair coating his chest and torso now–and noticed that the abs he’d had before were hidden behind a slight gut now. It wasn’t much, really–but it looked good on him, and filled him out. Made him look more powerful and commanding.

The drug was clearing from his system now, and left him feeling clear headed, and sharp. It was like his entire brain was firing on all cylinders–he could feel…everything, but he…saw everything too. Like the entire world was laid out in front of him. Was the drug affecting his mind as well? If it was, it wasn’t hurting him by any means. He gripped his cock and imagined being back in that hallway at school–no, not in the hallway. He imagined being in that bathroom with Jack, shoving him against the wall, grinding this massive cock between his cheeks, making him beg for it before he fucked him long and deep, marked him as his, made sure everyone knew who was really in charge. He heard a beep come from his wrist–the watch had recalibrated again, and was flashing “Ready”. He knew what he wanted–he wanted more. He pressed the button, and shuddered as the drug flooded his system once again.

The fear was gone–he was anticipating it now. His muscles began to heat up once more, but they had already grown so much that the sensation wasn’t so much a pop, as a general swelling. They didn’t seem to be getting any larger, and yet, he could tell that they were growing stronger all the same. His skin, however, was showing signs of wear–he was growing too fast for it to keep up, causing stretch marks to appear all over him, especially across his chest and gut, which was growing fuller now, pushing out into a proper muscle gut, firm and covered in hair. He rubbed it and moaned, thinking about how good it would feel, having it rest on the small of a man’s back, which his cock was driving into the man’s ass. His bones were creaking again, growing thicker–stronger. He wanted…to punch something. Not to hurt it–he just wanted to see how strong he was. It was just–a need.

He looked at the wall beside him, and couldn’t resist–he wound up and slammed his fist into the wall. It didn’t even hurt–it was like wet paper to him, the drywall just crumbling around his hand. He pulled himself free, and aside from a few scraped knuckles, he was fine. The growth was slowing down already, which almost upset him, and he stood up, only to feel his head graze the ceiling of the bathroom.

Eight feet tall–it seemed impossible. He looked down at the room around him, and everything seemed so small and fragile. He lifted up the seat of the toilet with one of his thick hands, and could tell that, if he wanted to, he could snap the plastic with almost no effort at all. How much could he possibly weight at this point? There was a scale in the bathroom, under the sink. He crouched down and managed to haul it free, and stood on it–only for it to max out at 300 pounds. He was over three hundred pounds! It didn’t seem possible–but there it was, right in front of his face–well, under his feet at least, since his face was as far away from the scale as it could get. Looking down, he noticed his feet–how the heels were touching one end of the scale, while his toes were dangling off of it. They were massive, and covered with hair all along the tops, joining the pelt that started at his ankles and worked all the way up his body. The hair, at this point, was growing so thick it was difficult to see his skin in places. He ran his hands through it and shivered–it was almost as erotic as touching his cock. His beard was filling in, crawling up his cheeks, and growing longer–even as he noticed his hairline beginning to recede, two bald spots forming at the front of his hairline and pushing back.

Was he getting older? No–he didn’t look older, but whatever this process was, it was obviously affecting him in other ways, beyond the obvious. Still–he didn’t mind it. He looked mature, and dominant…and sexy. He was larger than Finn now–larger than any man he’d ever seen before in his life. He sniffed the room, noticing a rather sharp funk on the air, and it took him a moment to realize that it was him. He lifted an arm and sniffed at his pit, only to let off a low moan–almost guttural, it was so deep. He smelled…amazing. He leaned back against the wall, feeling it shudder slightly as he hit it, arm raised over his head, and pressed to the ceiling, and he kept sniffing, jacking his cock slowly with his other hand. Despite the fact that the shaft was larger than a two liter bottle, his own massive hand could still grip it easily–even if he couldn’t bring his fingers to touch around it by several inches. Precum started to flow, first a couple of drops, and then it began drooling from the head in copious amounts, pooling on the floor beneath him, adding to the musky scent of the bathroom. He stroked faster, grunting and growling, feeling more and more like a beast as he did, until his orgasm hit, balls contracting so hard it was almost painful, cum spraying from the head and spattering across the mirror in front of him, running down onto the counter as more and more gouted out from his cock.

He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know what this thing was, or what it might do. Just because the button sent him through puberty the first time, didn’t mean anything about what might happen if he pressed it again. No–he needed to call someone, his parents, and get help. Once this thing was off him, then he could worry about what it was, and what it could do.

One of his fingers traced the button a moment, and then pulled away.

It had felt good though, hadn’t it? No–that was a lie, it had been painful as hell, but fuck, it felt good now, on the other side. He felt so strong, and alive–if this is what it felt like after using it once, then what might it feel like if he did it twice? Still it was too risky–besides, what might happen to him if he got another dose of…whatever that stuff was, after already getting one? There might be side effects, or hell, it might kill him, if he wasn’t careful with it.

His finger had gone back to fiddling with the button, and he didn’t pull it away this time, once he noticed.

He didn’t want to go back, to being who he was. If he went to the hospital, they would see this as something…as something wrong with him, but what, really, was wrong? All it had done was make him normal, after all. Well, not quite normal, he supposed. If anything, he still felt a little…short, and he wouldn’t mind being even hairier, and while the stubble was nice, now that he’d had time to look at it, it was coming in a bit patchy. He’d survived it once–and he wasn’t about to get another chance like this in his life.

He pushed the button in, and braced himself for the sharp stick of the needles, which again slid from the back of the watch into his wrist. He was ready for it this time, at least. Or, he hoped he was ready for it. He…still didn’t know what the button did, for certain. He’d been assuming that it would inject him with the same stuff as before…but what if it did something else? His heart was speeding again, throbbing in his ear–he flexed his forearm, and felt the muscle pop again–the growth wasn’t as obvious, on his now much more developed body, but it was still apparent. The rest of his arm followed suit, and now that he knew what to expect, it was easier–he could…ride it, the pain and thrill of it, feeling his body surge and expand all around.

The bone ache was still the worst of it, but he didn’t fall down this time, even if he needed a wall to keep himself steady. Even that, though, was better, and watching the room fall back around him, as he gained another foot in height–cresting near seven feet–he felt…amazing. Is this what Finn felt like all the time? He felt so powerful, looming over everything. He looked around the room, feeling almost drunk, one hand groping his chest, feeling the firm pectoral underneath his skin, almost hot to the touch. He was big. Hell, he wasn’t just big–big was just the first word that came to his mind, but it couldn’t begin to capture the sensation of this. Powerful was closer. Strong was another. None of them could quite capture it, because it wasn’t just the raw force–it was the comparison between this, and who he had been before.

Weak. He had been so…weak. He couldn’t stop anyone from doing anything to him. He was just passive. But now–now, he could do something. He imagined that scene from earlier, in the hall, where Jack had cornered him–more than that, where he’d assaulted him. He thought about how he’d been unable to do anything about it–how it was just the luck of Finn passing by that had resolved the entire situation. How if this watch hadn’t shown up here, he would be dreading school tomorrow, wondering what Jack would do, since he hadn’t responded to his invitation, for lack of a better word. But it had shown up. It had shown up, and now–now he didn’t have to worry about that. Now, he was going to be in control.

He stretched up, feeling his joints popping and snapping as the last of the growth finished off. It did hurt–but not like the first time. If anything, he almost…enjoyed it. He turned back to the mirror, and discovered that with his new frame, he filled it. He had to take a step back, his back against the wall opposite sink, so that he could even see all of himself in it. The rest of the changes were coming now–the tingle of the hair across his body, but other sensations as well. He felt…a bit sick to his stomach, actually, and worried it was some side effect of the watch being used twice, but the unease settled in lower, beneath his gut and in his lower abdomen. He didn’t quite know what was happening to him, but his cock was growing again–not as much as it had the first time, by any means, but it was still larger than any cock he’d seen in porn. Eleven inches? Twelve? It was…monstrous. He reached down to grab it, and when he did, he gasped–it was…so sensitive, and almost immediately it hardened, passing a foot long as it did, jutting out from him like a small spear. The unease slipped lower and gripped his balls–and intensified. It had been uncomfortable before, but this time–his balls didn’t merely double in size–they swelled in his hands where he cupped them and dropped lower, each swelling to the size of a grapefruit, and as they did, he felt lust surge through him.