Link To Part 1

Link to part 1

Link to part 2

Finale...

He stood there for what seemed like hours after the wave of growth finally wore off, staring at his obscene body in the mirrors that adorned the gym wall, his muscles filling them completely. Compelled to flex, he found himself clumsy and uncoordinated, muscle bashing up against muscle as he attempted even the most basic poses. His greed and muscle lust had really done a number on himself. The power he felt coursing through his body was in contrast to the real world fact that his hands couldn't get closer together than 6ft apart due to his bulging biceps, pecs, lats, and ham-hock forearms. Looking at his engorged legs, he wonders if he will be able to swing them around each other to at least attempt the most crude waddle. As he lifts one leg up, he is amazed by the synchronized perfection of his swollen quads.

Before landing that first step, he's startled by a sudden voice behind him... "I knew I could count on you," it said. "Who's there?" Vlad replied, his speech muffled by his scruffy chin rubbing against his inner pec meat, but he was met with silence. Unable to see anyone behind him in the mirror, he instinctively turns his head to look, only to be almost immediately confronted by a wall of trap and delt meat. He'll have to turn around, he realizes. As he awkwardly shuffles his overburdened feet to turn his massive body, he takes in the view of the gym around him, the slowly moving carousel of sights framed constantly by the pecs and delts swelled up around him. It's a sight he could get used to. From the outside, the mysterious man watches the curious sight. The bodybuilder blown up with such absurdly large muscles that he can barely move an inch, heaving in one solid mass as he turns around.

Making it a full 180° only after several minutes of struggling against himself, Vlad still doesn't see anyone, for a moment wondering if he simply walked away while he attempted to face him, but his confusion was cleared as the man took a few steps back to meet his gaze over his pecs. "Everyone told me I was crazy, that no one would would be willing to see just how far Formula X would take them. That they'd all get scared once they realize the drawbacks of living life past the previously understood limits of human muscular development, the limits that I am sure you are already becoming aware of..." he trailed off, casually gesturing at Vlad's massive frame with his free hand. "But I knew you were special. I knew it the second you went in for that second dose, the way you sucked the vial dry and unceremoniously rammed that needle into your thigh. So tell me, are you happy?"

Vlad attempted to take stock of the wild changes to his body and life that had taken course in the short time he had known that innocuous little vial. Doubts started to creep in again, but were quickly pushed down by the sensations beginning to rule his body. His muscles, even at rest, pulse with power, the thick veins are in sharp relief all over delivering the nutrients they need to sustain and grow. He's lost in the heaving of his mighty chest as he draws in air to meet the demands of the cords of muscle that make him. He simply nods in reply. Not wasting any time letting that answer sink in, the man quickly replies "But are you satisfied?"

The benign question rocked Vlad to the core. He had to be satisfied, right? Look at him, there simply wasn't anywhere he could pack on any more muscle. Especially if he wanted to keep any semblance of movement. He was already multiple times larger than he was when he walked through the gym doors. That had to be enough. Yeah it had to... had to... but it wasn't, and he knew it. The man stood there waiting Vlad's reply, but he already had the answer. He could feel and see his body shake and pulse for more. Unclasping the latches on the briefcase at his side, the mysterious man held it above his head so Vlad could see its contents. In it were three massive syringes, equipped with grips and wide needles, something you would see brought out for large animals, not humans. The thick barrels looked like they could each hold three vials worth of the transformational formula. Vlad lost it at the realization of what the man was offering, moaning at the thought.

"That's what I thought. Let's finish what we started."

It fucking worked. After hacking into his wireless earbuds and playing the track all I had to do was get him to look at me and the deal was done. Best part is? he doesn't know a thing. There he goes in my old body, thinking he was me the whole time, not even skipping a beat.

My time spent in the gym had developed my body some, but this was something else. So much more bulky and powerful. A body like this was born to slather on mass and I can't wait to continue that. Unless I come across someone even bigger to jump into first, that is.

Nick hated sharing a room with his older brother Daniel. Especially once the iron bug bit him in his early teens. He'd spend every day at the gym, coming home drenched in sweat. Stinking up their room, he would lay on Nick's bed without even bothering to remove his gym clothes, leaving them in a pile in the middle of the floor when he finally stripped down to shower, making sure to hit a few poses while in the nude. Nick would look away in disgust, furious about the stinking pit he was forced to live in.

One day, when Nick was finding the smell nearly unbearable, it suddenly and miraculously no longer bothered him, in fact, he kind of liked it. He soon found himself waiting for his brother to get home, Big D he was calling himself now, just so he could bask in his overpowering musk. Soon, like and addict, he craved it intensely when he didn't have it. Nick started joining him in the gym, first just hanging around and spotting him (not that he needed one) but soon found himself working in to his brutal sets. The first time he touched a dumbbell he finally understood his brother's obsession. The feeling of the pump, the feeling of the hard earned sweat cascading down your muscles and evaporating into the air spreading your manly pheromones.

The walls of their room ran heavy with their hot sweat as the two beasts relaxed after a beastly gym session. Nick was hot on his brother's tails with the size he has already put on. Just two brothers, doing what they love.

Walk through the gym like you own it. No one else there would even dare think otherwise anyway.

It started with innocent passing comments about him putting on size with his new gym routine. Once he quickly shot past the level of musculature approved by society, the comments and jokes about steroids started coming, their tone taking on a more serious note as his growth continued. By the time he shot past the largest of the pros without the slightest inkling of slowing down, those around him were showing serious concern. Talking to him about slowing down was like talking to a brick wall, physically too. He barely said anything anymore, spending his days at the gym grunting away.

When his close friends next door to his home curiously found his front door torn off the hinges one day, they were shocked by what they found. It was their friend alright, but in body only, a body bursting at the seams with muscle. Behind it all an emotionless face staring off into space without so much as a thought rattling around. Calling out to him was no use, the words causing absolutely no reaction. Once in eyesight, he finally reacted, starting a posing routine without changing his expression nor gaze. It was a sickening display of grotesquely overgrown muscle, something never before seen to the plane jane couple.

When the routine finished, he returned to his relaxed uncaring pose, waiting, but for what? One of the pair finally built up the courage to walk up and touch him, hoping the physical contact could break him of his perceived trance. As he reservedly laid his hand on his massive arm he was taken aback by the sheer size of his bi's and tri's, his full grown adult hand looking like a toddlers as it came to rest between the ridges of bloated muscle. His touch immediately had an effect, but not at all what he expected. Their friend let out a deep moan as his member engorged out of his posers. They both adverted their gaze in embarrassment, quickly leaving the room to figure out what to do next to help him.

They did their best to explain the situation to the hospital, arranging to have a box truck transport him to the facility. His friends and paramedics staying with him during the ride listened as he continued to moan on the drive over due to the stimulation of the movement. Doctors were baffled, the brain scans showed absolutely no activity, yet he was still responding to some stimuli, excitedly so some may say. The MRI revealed the shocking true story. It was like no other brain they had ever seen, especially when compared to the normal scans he had from a head injury in his early teens. Unlike the hemispheres and folds of a normal looking brain, his was solid, straight, and corded, not unlike his inhuman bicep. If the doctors didn't know any better they'd say that's all it was, a dumb hunk of muscle, but it was still keeping him alive, still performing some function.

His actions seemed to be purely instinctual reactions. Put him around weights and he starts exercising, stopping far past failure, only when he physically can't continue. Place healthy protein and clean carbs in front of him and he wolfs it down. Touch him and, well we already know what happens, any contact longer than a few seconds causing a contactless eruption from his engorged cock. It became clear what he had turned into, just a heap of dumb muscle. Whatever he had done to himself to get to where he is obviously causing irreversible mutation of his brain, leaving only the necessary functions to fuel growth and pleasure. Unsure what else they could possibly do for him, the doctors surrounded him in an environment fit to fulfill those needs. They continue to monitor his progress as they take care of all of his other needs, genuinely curious just how big he will get.

They intended to study him until the end. They thankfully could due to the generous offers of people willing to volunteer their time to be caretakers for the beast and the offers of money from rich closeted muscle fetishists just spend time discreetly with him.

So that really only leaves one lingering question. Are you ready to follow in his footsteps?

Pavel