New You Resolutions (Part 4) [Interactive]

There was no way he was going to do this, Morgan told himself. The list he was holding read like a nightmare:

Morgan’s Resolutions for 2019

  • Drink lots of cheap beer, and grow a big beer gut.
  • Drop out of college and find a job doing menial labor.
  • Go through a second, intense puberty, and age an additional ten years.
  • Act like a lazy slob, rarely shower, and get off on my own musk.
  • Become an aggressive, dominant top, and double the size of my cock.

Why in the hell would he do any of this shit? Who in the hell was this company anyway? He looked back at the letter, and then at the list again, looking for more information, but there wasn’t anything else, just this sudden wave of anxiety, and he…he…

Fuck, he needed a fucking beer.

Morgan shook his head, trying to clear it. Why in the world had he thought that? He didn’t drink much at all for one thing, but it did nothing really to slake his thirst. The older couple were out of the house for a while, running some errands…and before he could muster any mental opposition, he went down into the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed one of the beers the man always kept on hand, but which Morgan had always refused, and chugged it, letting off a long belch afterwards.

And fuck, if he didn’t feel so much better, almost immediately.

He spent so much time trying to be perfect, so much time trying to live up to some standard, to prove everyone wrong, to be everything he was supposed to be…but why? Why was he doing this, any of this? He knew he’d had answers, he might have even had answers when he’d woken up that morning, but he didn’t have them right now…and he found that to be such a relief, somehow. He grabbed another beer, drank that too, and then figured he should just go buy some of his own to replenish what he’d taken. He bought a twenty-four pack at the nearby gas station, went home, and in three days, it was gone.

In three days, he hadn’t taken a shower, he hadn’t thought about school, he hadn’t thought about those jocks or being bullied, or any of it. He’d sat in his room, drunk off his ass, doing jack shit, masturbating to the smell of his pits, and feeling…odd. It took him a few more days to realize what was odd–it was that he was aching in a weird way, like he was growing again, but faster than he had in his teens. He was angry too, all of a sudden. Angry, and lazy, and he had so many hormones rushing through him, that by the time school started back up a few weeks later, it was a relief to have an outlet, that he could charge up to the registrar, drop out, and be done with the whole mess.

It felt good, doing it. It felt good, like he was freeing himself. Sure, he didn’t have a job or anything, but he’d find something. He had some savings, some cash from his parents, enough to pay the rent and coast for a couple of months, and figure some things out–that, and finish growing. He hurt all the time now, in ways that he hadn’t remembered since high school. Each day, it seemed like something new happened–his voice cracking and dropping to a low bass, acne appearing across his face, his cock…growing. It seemed like it packed on another inch each week, and Morgan found his desires shifting as it grew, away from the mostly bottom he’d been, to something far more aggressive. He’d watch porn videos of gay guys taking down straight homophobes, raping them, and nothing would get him harder–he’d explode all over himself, thinking about the jocks he hated, so happy he’d never have to see them again–but if they did, boy, would they have a surprise coming to them.

By the time March hit and he had to hit the streets to look for work, Morgan looked like a brand new person. He was about six inches taller, more muscular, his jaw stronger and covered with a thick beard growing up his cheeks, his arms and chest similarly coated with hair from his renewed puberty. His gut, however, was the most notable part about him, jutting out like a beach ball in front of him, making him balance it out by leaning back a bit. He didn’t have a hard time finding a job in the city, and ended up working in a warehouse down on the docks, amazed at how much he could rake in with a union job, enough to move out of that room and rent his own place by June–a proper bachelor pad, he told himself.

By then, he barely recognized himself at all in the mirror, and sure, part of him was horrified…but part of him liked it. A growing part of him, a brute thrumming in his chest, the mean drunk that came out when he’d had a few too many, the brute that had…forced himself on a couple of the guys at work, who had, to his surprise, relented, and let him plow their holes with his massive, ten inch cock. But the greatest conquest was something special–after finals, one of the chief jocks who had bullied him ended up there in the bar–in his bar. Morg knew just what the prissy piece of shit needed–and he cornered him in the bathroom, and fucked the young jock’s brains out, raped him for all the shit he had done to him, and he realized, then, that perhaps these resolutions weren’t so bad after all.

But who else got a letter from the company?

Here’s the next poll! I used two fairly popular ideas from the last poll, to give them one more chance, and also used two ideas from readers that they submitted with the last poll. The public poll is below, and the patron only poll can be found here.

Acceleration (Part 9)

They were ok. They were really ok! Russell looked down at the watch, only for it to smoke and spark suddenly, and they both rushed to get it off him and toss it away, where it gave a few pops, the screen cracking–but at least it didn’t explode. But a moment later, there was an odd flicker in reality, and it completely disappeared. Whatever it had done, there was no going back, it seemed–not that either of them was interested in that possibility. They were here, together, and that’s what mattered most.

Looking around, it was clear something had changed. The couch they were sitting on was, well, massive–Russell could sit on it well enough, though it was still a bit too large for him, and for Finn, he would have looked like a kid sitting on it. There was, however, a second sofa across from them with proportions more…appropriate to his size. The ceilings were higher by several feet–nearly thirteen or fourteen, most likely–but that was all Russell had a chance to notice before he heard the garage door open, and he realized their fathers were home.

Wait–fathers? From the confusion on Finn’s face, it was clear he was wondering something similar. Finn hauled himself free of Russell’s cock, still nursing his cum stuffed gut, and a couple minutes later, Russell saw a man he…somewhat recognized as his father enter the house–but he was, well, massive. Easily twelve feet tall, and completely naked–not that it much mattered. He had so much hair all over his body that he might as well have been clothed in it. His cock was easily three feet long, with a massive foreskin–and smell! It was like his own musk, but so much more intense. Looking over at Finn beside him, he was drooling and groping himself, before he struggled off the huge couch and waddled over to him, hugging him at the waist, humping at him. “I missed you daddy!” he said, and Russell’s father laughed.

“I missed you too, boy–but it looks like you and your brother found ways to entertain yourselves while we were gone,” he bent over and gave Finn’s belly a pat, throwing Russell a wink. “Looks like someone is finally getting frisky.”

Russell didn’t quite know what he meant, at first, but memories flooded in a moment later–how not even a year ago, he had been a little smaller than Finn, still waiting for puberty to kick in–and had it, in grand measure. In just a year, he’d become the massive man he was now–and his father assured him he had plenty more growing to do–he was already outpacing him, after all.

Behind his father, Russell saw a second, smaller man come through the door–who he recognized not only as his own dad now, in this reality, but as Finn’s old father as well. He was about eight feet tall, hips wide, gut distended, looking like a slightly larger version of Finn now. “Finn, I know you’re horny, but you can’t take advantage of your brother like that.”

“It was him!” Finn said, “He just smells so…good! Like…like daddy…”

“Do you need a ride on daddy’s cock, son? Seems like that’s the only thing that will settle you down,” Russell’s dad said, and looked back at his husband, “Puberty, remember?” He bent over and picked Finn up like he weighed nothing, and threw him over his shoulder before heading upstairs, and Finn’s dad shook his head, and walked over to Russell, only to get a funny look on his face as he did.

“What’s…what’s wrong, dad?” Russell asked.

“Damn–Finn’s right…you are smelling…ripe today.”

“Sorry…I can go shower, I’m just not used to it.”

His dad stopped him, and climbed up on him instead, licking at his pits. “No son–don’t…unless you don’t want to give your dad a good fuck, first?”

“Are…are you sure?” Russell asked, but he knew his dad never joked about this sort of thing.

“Come on–I got a good load from your dad at the store this evening–I’d love to feel the seed of the two men I love most in me together.” He got back down off the couch, and onto his hands and knees, “Now come on son, pump your slutty daddy full your that seed of yours–show me what kind a man you’re gonna be!”

Russell wasn’t going to object to an offer like that. Upstairs, he could hear his brother and other father moaning loudly in the bedroom, the rafters shaking slightly as they fucked–but Russell was enjoying his father’s ass too much to really notice. Fucking his brother was fun…but he just wasn’t very experienced. The things his dad could do with his hole–fuck, Russell might be topping him, but it was his dad calling all of the shots. Three loads later, his dad had had enough and sent Russell upstairs to shower. As he did, he had a difficult time believing–or even remembering–that things had ever been different. As far as he was concerned, everything was exactly how it should be.


The next Monday at school, everything felt like it was mostly back to normal, though some things were harder to adjust to than others. The fact that there were no women, most of all–just two types of men, though the line between them was…blurry. It was hardly uncommon, after all, to see a hulking, fifteen foot tall beast with a fill gut distended by cum. Or a (relatively) short fellow with a five foot cock, long enough to rest of the ground, smelling strong enough to bring even the largest of men to their knees in eager worship. Everything was so new, and everyone so strange, that at last, it was easy for Russell to feel, well, normal.

School, however, was strange. Mandatory showers to start the day, and every few hours, to help keep everyone focused on the tasks at hand. Still, it wasn’t uncommon to see students (and occasionally teachers) rutting in the halls, though it was preferred that such activities be restricted to the designated areas. It wasn’t until the afternoon that Russell saw Jack in the halls, and his jaw nearly dropped. Just under six feet, his hips were wide, his body smooth, and when he saw Russell standing there, the desire in his eyes was impossible to mask.

He waddled over, tugged Russell down by the front of his shirt. “You and me, the bathroom after school. You wanna?”

Russell smirked. Now that was the sort of invitation he could get behind.

Acceleration (Part 8)

“Russell, what…why the fuck do you smell so…fuck…” Finn moaned, and he started grinding against his friend’s massive body, sniffing deeper, licking at his sweat. “Please…we can’t…we can’t do this…”

“No–no, I’m taking orders from you. I don’t take orders from anyone, anymore. You do what I say now, and what I want, is for you to clean out my nasty pits. You want to do that too, don’t you boy?” Russell growled.

Finn tried to resist, but after a moment he gave in and licked faster, enjoying himself more, Russell telling his friend what a good boy he was, obeying his daddy like this. Finn hadn’t really managed to take in much of his friend’s new body, when he’d first entered the house–it had just been such a shock, seeing the nine foot tall brute waiting for him. Now though, he was starting to appreciate it all. How hairy he was, how amazing he smelled…and his cock. Russell wasn’t gay–or at least, he’d had sex with enough girls at school to assume he was straight, but this was something else. He didn’t want Russell because he was a man–or at least, that wasn’t the only reason. No–he wanted him because he was…superior. Better than him in every way. Worthy of his worship. Russell pulled his friend’s face free of his pit, and saw the look of pure contentment on his face. “T-Thank you, sir…” Finn muttered.

“You’re welcome boy–but I don’t think you’re done serving me, do you?”

Finn shook his head.

“Yeah, but you were a bad boy, doing something that I didn’t like. You aren’t going to try that again, are you? Or else I’m going to have to punish you.”

“Sorry sir, I won’t sir.”

“That’s very good to hear,” Russell said. “Now, my parents won’t be home for a while still, so why don’t you tell me everything you know about this watch? I think we’ll probably be able to figure out a solution that will make me happy, don’t you?”

Finn was much more agreeable after that, and so, he told Russell the story of the watch–which wasn’t really a watch at all. No–it was something much, much more powerful than that. It could change the physical characteristics of whoever was wearing it, in whatever way they desired. However, the family had to be careful to make sure people didn’t notice anything to extreme.

“So wait,” Russell asked, “What were you planning to do when you came back?”

“The watch…can warp reality in a limited sense. It can make changes seem normal to people–but we don’t know how it works. I don’t…think it could work for a change like this, its too big.”

“Well, have you ever tried?”

Finn shook his head. “But it’s…intense sir. The one or two times I’ve had to do it–and for small changes–I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“What’s the worst that could happen, really?”

Finn didn’t say anything for a moment, “I…I honestly don’t know what it would do to you, if it didn’t work. It could kill you. It could probably do something worse than that, too.”

Russell looked down at himself, at his massive frame, his thick cock which Finn was hugging with his arms, nursing the head and drinking his precum as he spoke. What could be worse than dying, really? As far as he was concerned, having to go back to who he’d been, the runt–that was the worst possibility of all. He’d do anything to avoid that. Could he…live with being smaller? No–no, this was all or nothing, but before anything happened, he…needed to know what it felt like, being inside someone. He stroked Finn’s head, “Do you want me to fuck you, boy?”

Finn nodded, but looked at the mostrous tool, “It’s…it’s so big, though.”

“I bet that watch of yours could help, don’t you?”

Finn’s eyes lit up, and Russell allowed him to put it on, fiddling with the settings, and he pushed the button in. Finn didn’t get larger, exactly, but his hips widened, his ass filling out with a thick layer of fat–and he assured Russell would have no problem getting inside him now, because Finn could take anything. Sure enough, ten minutes later, Russell was on the couch, Finn in his lap, moaning and grunting, the massive cock slammed deep in his guts. “Oh…Oh fuck it feels so good sir, fuck!” he said, grinding down further, his own cock leaking like a faucet.

“Of course it does boy–that’s where it belongs, right?”

Finn nodded, delirious, and Russell grabbed him under his arms and started lifting him up and down like it was no challenge at all. Finn just went limp with pleasure, eventually spurting a massive load of cum all over Russell’s chest, gut, and face. Russell picked up the pace, feeling himself getting closer until he dropped Finn all the way down to the root and shot, watching his gut actually expand slightly from the size of the load. Finn rubbed it, feeling his friend’s seed deep inside him, and then bent forward and licked up his own cum as well, enjoying the taste of it mixed with his master’s musk and sweat. Still–it was time.

Finn opened the admin privileges, and Russell put the watch back on his wrist. Finn calibrated it, and then started pulling himself fress of his master’s cock–but Russell pushed him back down onto it.

“But sir, if we’re still touching…I don’t know what the watch might do.”

“If this is the end, the last thing I want to feel is my huge cock in your guts boy–you feel the same, don’t you?”

Finn nodded, reluctantly, and soon enough, the watch was ready. It took…quite a while for it to calibrate, and Russell kept checking the clock, nervous about his parents imminent arrival. Finally, the button popped out, and after a final kiss, Russell pushed down the button, and everything around them came apart at the seams. It lasted a moment, according to the clock, but for the two of them, it was an eternity together, Russell’s massive cock buried deep inside him, and while they couldn’t remember much about it, it didn’t hurt, and when they came to, back on the couch, both of them erupted all over again, simultaneously, Finn’s already taut gut bloating out even further.

Acceleration (Part 7)

The house was silent for a moment, as he considered what to do next. Maybe…they would just go away. Did he want them to go away though? What if it was the same person who left the watch? They might know how to fix this! Did…did he want them to fix this?

No–he didn’t want that, he supposed. But if he knew more about it, maybe…maybe there was something else he could do about it, maybe a way to hide it, for the moment, until he can figure out what to do on a more…permanent basis.

The doorbell rang again. Whoever it was, wasn’t going away, apparently. He could at least go and see who it was, if nothing else. He went to the front door, trying to be as quiet as possible, but it was nearly impossible to keep his feet from thudding on the wood floor, the boards creaking under his substantial weight. He got to the door and crouched down, pressing his eye to the peephole, and was surprised to find Finn standing on the stoop outside the door, looking around nervously.

That wasn’t who he was expecting, by any means–why was he here? Did he want to try and apologize? Now was definitely not the time for that…even if Russell did want to show him what he looked like now. He could just see Finn’s mouth dropping open at the sight of him, he could…smell him, how turned on he’d get, and when he dragged him inside, shoved his face into one of his stinking pits–well, Finn would be more than happy to ride his cock before too long…

Russell recoiled from the door, unable to believe he was thinking this about his friend. No–he couldn’t risk it. Finn rang the doorbell again, impatiently–he obviously wasn’t going away, but he’d give up soon enough, right. Finn shook his head, pulled out his phone, dialed a number and Russell heard his phone start ringing upstairs–and Finn looked up. He could hear the phone through Russell’s open bedroom window.

“Fuck!” Russell growled, and Finn banged on door.

“Russell–did you get the gift I left you?” Finn said through the door, and Russell’s eyes went wide. Finn…left him the watch? He thought back again to that summer, and how Finn had come back looking like a whole new person. Had he used the watch too? “Let me in–we’ll get it sorted out, alright? You don’t have to be afraid, but I…I know you didn’t want to see me, so I left it for you here. I know…it’s not enough, and I shouldn’t have even taken it from my dad, but I wanted to help.”

It was Finn? He’s the one who’d left him the watch?

Russell found all of the pieces fitting together, how Finn had disappeared for that summer, and come back looking…well, looking like Russell had after just that first time using the watch. He must have used it too–that’s how he had changed. Finn would know how to fix this, he’d be able to get him back to normal! Well, or at least, more normal. One thing was for sure, thought–Russell was never going back to being runt, ever again. He unlocked the door, pulled it open, and was careful to hide behind it (as best he could) until Finn stepped inside, and then shut it. Finn turned, saw him, and his jaw dropped. “Oh…oh fuck, what the fuck did you do, Russell?”

“What the fuck do you mean? I used the watch!” Russell said. His voice was so…loud, he saw Finn flinch slightly. “Sorry…I…I might have gotten a little…carried away?”

“Carried away how?” Russell said, “I programmed it specifically to only run one program!”

“It just kept…working though.”

Finn stared at him. “Oh shit–it kept recalibrating, didn’t it? How many times did you use it?”

Russell just looked a bit sheepish, “I…uh, three?”

“God fucking dammit,” Finn said, and headed into the house, “Where is it? We have to change you back.”

“Hey now, hold on man–it’s not that bad!” Russell said. “I mean, I’m good! I just…I don’t know how to explain it to my parents, is all.”

“No, I can’t explain this to my dad, is the problem,” Finn said, “Let’s…look, we’ll change you back, and figure it out from there, ok? This was such a stupid idea, I knew this was so fucking stupid…”

Russell froze. There was no way he was going to go back to being that…that fucking runt! The watch was still in the kitchen–he chased after Finn, catching up to him in just a couple of strides…but what could he do? Well…there was one thing that had occurred to him, but…no–no, that wasn’t right. Still, what other choice did he have? He grabbed Finn by the back of his shirt and pulled him back, wrapping him in a bear hug, tight. “Fuck man, let me go!” Finn shouted, struggling–but Russell held him easily. He was so…weak compared to him, and that too, was getting him a bit horny.

“I’m not going back, Finn. You can’t make me.”

“Russell, I’m not kidding around!”

He spun Finn around, lifted an arm, and with the other, palmed the back of Finn’s head and pushed it into his pit. He struggled more, trying to get away, but Russell could…tell it was having an effect on him. “Just relax man, relax…”

Acceleration (Part 6)

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.

Acceleration (Part 5)

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.

Acceleration (Part 4)

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.

Acceleration (Part 3)

His heart was pounding in his ears, and he felt the muscles in his body begin to respond in the same way. It was his chest next, first one pec and then the second, both of them swelling to, what seemed to him at the moment, obscene proportions. It was enough to make him slightly top heavy, and he had to lean on the wall for support–and it didn’t help that his vision was swimming, and a deep ache was forming in his bones. Soon, the ache was stronger than the muscles expanding all over his body–like someone had rooted the bones of his feet to the floor, and someone else had him by the skull, dragging him up towards the ceiling and stretching him out. He couldn’t be sure, due to the fact that the room wouldn’t stop spinning, but it seemed…that he was getting taller. He lost his balance then, and tumbled to the floor, rolling about in discomfort as his body twisted and shifted around him. He was aware of other sensations beginning to form, but his senses were so overwhelmed, he barely recalled what he’d felt, by the time the pain began to recede, his heart began to slow, and he could finally focus on the room around him without feeling nauseous.

He didn’t think there was a single group of muscles that had gone unaffected–and now that everything had grown, there was just a lingering weakness, that made it hard to even roll over and push himself up. Still, more pressing was his clothes, which were far too tight on his changing body. He struggled out of the shirt first, as quickly as he could, and then shoved his jeans down to his ankles. As he stripped down to his his socks and underwear, he could feel something else happening in addition to the ache, a sensation of pins and needles, like when his arm or leg fell asleep, but it was appearing in the strangest of places. Like the muscle spasms, it started in the arm where the watch was strapped to him, and spread from there across his chest to his other arm, and down the center of his torso, to his groin. The sensation intensified, and looking at his arm on the ground, he saw small hairs pushing their way through his skin–a few at first, but then more following, until there was a soft layer covering up his forearm, across his chest, and sprouting around his cock and balls. Those, too, had started to tingle, and were almost…pulsing. Reaching down, he felt them through his briefs, his cock throbbing. At first he thought he was just getting hard, but then he realized his cock was…growing, as were his balls. He’d never had the largest endowment, but it was at least average. Hell, on his smaller frame, it actually looked sizable, but when he pulled down the front of his briefs, and the nine inch shaft flopped out–he could barely believe it. He managed to stand, as the last of the prickling sensation washed down his legs, and up onto his face. There was a sudden sharp pain in his neck, and when he let out a yelp of surprise, he found his voice had dropped an octave lower than before, and running a hand over his chin, he felt a thick stubble coating his cheeks, chin, and neck.

He stood there for a moment, shaking, waiting for something else to happen–but nothing else came. He was exhausted, but alive…and he staggered down the hall to the downstairs bathroom, flipped on the light, and just…stared at himself, shocked.

It was him, in the mirror. The same…basic face–like looking at a picture of yourself when you’re five–but it was like the watch had triggered the growth spurt he’d always hoped for–well, a growth spurt, and a bit more besides. Everything had seemed more extreme, when it was happening on his now smaller body, but the result was actually…normal. A bit manlier than some of his classmates, actually. His new height, if he had to guess, was a touch shy of six feet, and with his now muscular physique, he looked like a bull, or maybe one of the players on the football team. He wasn’t quite as big as Finn, by any means, but he doubted Jack would have a very easy time picking on him looking like this–feeling like this…

Fuck, what was he going to do? His parents were going to be home in a few hours, and he was going to look like a freak to them! He wouldn’t be going to school tomorrow–he’d probably be in some lab at a hospital, trying to figure out what, exactly, this thing had done to him. He looked at himself again, running his hand through the stubble across his face, and now that the pain was gone, what followed was euphoria. He felt strong. Looking at himself there, he didn’t feel the usual pang of humiliation and disgust. He just looked…right. He looked like someone he wanted to look like–like someone he could be attracted to.

There was a beep, suddenly around his wrist, and he looked at the watch, worried that something else was going to happen that would ruin this, but the screen was showing something familiar:

Re-calibration complete!

Admin not detected

Restricted use mode #013


The button on the side popped back out, and he stared at it, and then at himself in the mirror.

Acceleration (Part 2)

The worst part of it was, Russell knew Finn was sorry. He made a mistake–a big mistake–and it was probably tearing him up that there wasn’t anything he could do to fix it. But Russell just couldn’t find the space to forgive him, not yet. It had been so important, such a momentous thing for him, and it had been reduced to pillow talk by his best friend. That was what hurt the most–that Finn would never suffer anything for the mistake he made. The only thing Russell could do was never speak to him again, but how would that help either of them, really? But if he did try to reconcile, how could he possibly trust him with anything important again?

The rest of the day went by without further incident, and Russell ducked out of school as quickly as he could, before Jack could track him down and demand that blowjob from him. He didn’t know what he’d do about the bully tomorrow, but that was a concern for later–he just wanted to get home and put as much of this behind him as he could. Both of his parents were still at work, as was usual. They’d be gone until eight or so at their jobs, leaving Russell to fend for himself. He had a snack, and then went up to his room to play some computer games–but as he loaded up the game, he heard the doorbell. He didn’t usually answer the door when his parents were gone, but a few minutes later, the bell rang again–and then again. He went downstairs, planning on asking whoever it was to leave, but when he opened the door, all he found was an empty stoop, with a small cardboard box on the welcome mat.

Was it from Jack? He didn’t know where he lived, though–Russell had been careful to guard that knowledge from him, and the bully hadn’t seemed interested in pursuing him beyond school grounds. He picked it up and took it inside, opened it up, and inside he found a strange, watch-like contraption, and a folded up note. He read the paper, but it didn’t have any information regarding who had left the package outside, but it did make it clear that the odd device was intended for him. There were also instructions–put it on his wrist, and then, when the thing had finished “calibrating” (whatever that meant) he should press the button on the side–once.

He took the thing from the box and examined it, turning it over in his hands. It really did resemble a digital watch of some sort, but the face was blank–if it was supposed to be telling the time, it was clearly broken–hell, if it was supposed to be displaying anything at all, it was broken. Maybe it needed batteries? He flipped it over, but the case was seamless–there didn’t seem to be any way to get into it to change anything at all. Still, if it was broken, there wasn’t any harm in putting it on, right? He had to toy with the odd clasp for a moment, but he got it secured around his wrist–and then, without him doing anything, the band tightened around it–not uncomfortably so, but tight enough he couldn’t quite comfortably wedge a finger between band and skin. He looked at the screen, and sure enough, it had sprung to life as the band tightened, the word “calibrating…” flashing in the middle of the screen, as a thin black line slowly wound around the face. The circle completed in a moment, and the screen showed a series of screens:

Re-Calibration complete!

Admin not detected

Restricted use mode #013


The word ready remained, and a small button popped out on the side of watch–and Russell had no intention of pressing it. This thing was all too strange, and he still had no clue what it might even do to him, when he pressed it. He tugged at the strap, but it refused to loosen, and he couldn’t get the clasp to unhook, as tight as it was around him. He tried pulling and tugging for several minutes, and in his increasingly frantic struggles, his thumb slipped, hit the button on the side, and it slid back into the watch. At the same time, he felt a sharp sting on his wrist, directly beneath the face of the watch, like a series of small needles had slid into him and back into the watch nearly instantaneously. He shook his hand for a moment, and again tried to pry the watch from his body, but it refused to budge–and it was clear that whatever the thing had injected into him, it was having an effect–but what it was doing exactly was a mystery.

He noticed it in his arm first, the skin flushing, as small bumps appeared, looking almost like hives running up his slender arm. He felt his heart rate speed up, but whether it was caused by the injection, or whether it was just his own terror, he couldn’t be certain. The muscles in his forearm cramped suddenly, and then released–and when they did, they exploded–or at least, that’s what it felt like to Russell. It looked like it too–his forearm had nearly doubled in size, thick with muscle, and before he could feel it with his free hand, he felt his bicep–and then his tricep–do the same. Moments later, the arm with the watch on it looked almost comical–packed with muscle from wrist to shoulder, while his other arm was still thin, without any definition at all.

Acceleration (Part 1)

“What do you think guys? Is Runt any taller today?”

Jack shoved Russell up against the lockers in the high school hallway, and he struggled against him, but his arms were several inches too short to get anywhere near Jack’s chest.

“Nah man, I think he’s just stopped!”

“Gonna be looking like he’s twelve forever, probably!”

Jack leaned in close, a cruel sneer on his face. “And a faggot too–not that surprising. I ain’t gay, but I do have something that might help you grow,” Jack said, and with his free hand he groped his crotch, making sure Russell could see the bulge through the mesh of the basketball shorts he had on. The other jocks clustered around their ringleader looked a bit nervous–it was clear that this part hadn’t been discussed, but Russell’s sexuality had been a hot topic at school for the last week or so–Jack was bound to find out eventually. “Eh? You and me, the bathroom after school? Nothing helps me grow like a good boost of protein, and you might as well get some practice, faggot.”

“Jack, leave him the fuck alone!”

Russell and Jack looked to the side, where Finn was standing a few yards away. As if things could get any worse–Russell would gladly have sucked Jack’s cock if it meant Finn could just fucking disappear. Still, Jack let go of Russell’s shirt, and he fell back against the lockers. It wasn’t very surprising, really–Jack liked to be the bully, but he knew when he was outmatched, and Finn was about the only person in school who could outmatch him–but then, Finn outmatched everyone, pretty much.

“I’ll be waiting, faggot. Be there, or fucking regret it,” Jack said, too low for Finn or his posse to hear him, and then he walked away, the guys laughing and joking, and Finn walked to where Russell was recovering.

“Russ, are you alright?”

“Fuck off, Finn,” Russell said, and hefted up his backpack, “Haven’t you done enough shit already this week to ruin my life?”

“I told you I’m sorry, Russ–”

“And I thought I could fucking trust you!” Russ said, “I don’t–fuck you, Finn. You don’t fucking know.” It was lame, and he knew it, but he couldn’t put everything he was feeling into words. He just pushed past Finn, in the opposite direction Jack had gone, and headed for his class, just wanting to get through the rest of school without the day turning into even more of a nightmare than it already was.

Why couldn’t he have just kept his mouth shut? It wasn’t hard, after all, to just not say anything. Then again, Russell had told him, hadn’t he? Holding onto it for this long had just been…exhausting, and that night at Finn’s house, with a little alcohol from his dad’s stash, it had just…popped out. “I think I’m gay.” And Finn had been good! Really good, in fact. They’d talked through it a bit, and when Russell had left, he’d felt…good for the first time in a very long time, that his oldest friend would accept and support him no matter what, and no matter how they’d grown apart over the last couple of years.

Russell and Finn had bonded during Freshman year. At the time, they’d both been late bloomers, at the time, and together they had weathered the social trials of the first year of high school. But Finn had spent the summer away from town, visiting family on the other side of the country, and when he’d returned…well, he hadn’t been the same Finn who’d left, that was for sure. He’d grown a bit over a foot taller, packed on muscle and fat, and had somehow managed to grow a full beard. Russell had barely been able to believe it, and when they’d gone back to school, suddenly he and his friend were pulled apart. Finn was recruited to the football program, and quickly became the start of the JV team, while Russell was left in the dust–and that was when Jack entered the picture as well.

Jack was a year younger than them both, and while he couldn’t hold a candle to Finn, he immediately saw Russell was a perfect target for bullying, even if he was a year older than him. Hell, that actually made the whole thing even more fun for Jack–Russell could tell. And so, two more years had passed, Russell praying for a growth spurt and puberty which would never come–all he got was a light dusting of hair around his groin, an embarrassing cracking voice that never settled particularly low, and a case of acne that made him want to hide his face for half a year. Still, even if he’d had less time for him, Finn had done his best to remain friends with Russell, but it was inevitable that they would grow apart. Admitting to Finn that he was gay–part of why that had felt so good, was that it meant he was still his friend. But Finn had loose lips, and he’d let slip about it to Amy, the girl he was fucking at the moment, and Amy had told Emma and Trevor, and so on and so forth, and now everyone in the whole school pretty much knew, or would know by the next week.