Thank You For The Pointers, Mr. Rowe, The Smaller Guy, Chuck, Said With A Big Smile On His Face.

“…thank you for the pointers, Mr. Rowe,” the smaller guy, Chuck, said with a big smile on his face.

Brad grinned back and nodded, slapping a beefy hand onto the tiny’s man’s shoulder, completely engulfing it. “Of course,” he said. “I’m always happy to help guys pack on muscle. We can get you to this size soon.” For emphasis, the bodybuilder brought both of his arms in front of his chiseled chest and flexed, his pecs inflating with power. 

Brad had been approached by Chuck in the gym who wanted to ask for some workout tips, stating that he was a major source of fitness inspiration for the guy. Brad was honored and rather enjoyed it when he could interact with his fans, so he was all too happy to give the little guy a pointer or two on how to pack on muscle. Plus, he could tell by the longing stare in Chuck’s eyes that the smaller guy found him attractive, hence he figured he could be nice and flex for him.

But Brad’s generous attitude was immediately halted when he felt a cool gust of air brush over him, discovering that he could’t move out of his flexed position. He strained his massive muscles and tried with all of his might to bring his arms down and stop puffing out his pecs, but all to no avail. 

Brad started to panic when he couldn’t even open up his mouth or make a noise— he was completely frozen in place like a living statue.

“There we go,” Chuck cheered as he clapped his hands together excitedly. “I knew that there’d be no way you could resist striking a pose, and I knew that’d be the perfect position to keep you in.”

Brad couldn’t even move his eyes and he screamed internally, feeling so utterly weak and powerless as he was stuck like a stone. He wasn’t even sure if his heart was picking up speed in his panic nor could he even feel himself breathe. All he was capable of was looking out forwards while maintaining his pose.

Chuck walked circles around the helpless muscle man. “I wasn’t lying when I said that you were a source of motivation though,” he said as he looked over the wide expanse of the bodybuilder’s form. “But not so much for me, since I’m not interested in bulking up. But my clients have raved about how they would love an up close and personal inspection so that they could feel motivated to work out.”

Brad could hear what sounded like numerous footsteps approaching down the hallway, making him start to panic even further. Had he been capable, he would’ve been begging for help or trying to make a bet in order to get released. He couldn’t be stuck performing a pseudo most muscular pose for the rest of his life!

“I’m not heartless though,” Chuck mocked. “In fact, I came up with a way both parties can enjoy themselves.” He gently caressed the crazy width of Brad’s broad back.

The simple touch of another man’s hand on his frozen skin lit up fires of lust inside of Brad. Had he been able to, Brad would’ve moaned out loud at the touch and his cock would’ve been rock hard. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel a pressure growing deep inside of him as if he were getting close to orgasm.

“Nice right?” Chuck laughed. “Every touch of a man will only cause you get more and more turned on; too bad statues can’t cum. Maybe I’ll check back on you in a year or two… if I remember.”

Chuck smirked back at the petrified Brad as he exited the room. Brad wasn’t alone for long though, as three bodybuilders walked inside, each one carrying their gym bags with them. Once they were inside the small room, each one gasped as they took in the sight before them.

“Holy shit!” the one in red exclaimed, rushing forward to examine Brad. “The gym actually installed a Brad Rowe statue!”

Brad bristled inside at being called a statue and he tried to muster any strength he still had to plead with the other men to help him. It was useless though as he was completely immobile and voiceless.

“It’s so lifelike,” the one in blue mused.

The one in yellow stepped forward and placed an admiring hand on Brad’s plump pec.  Again, simply at the feel of another man’s warm, beefy hand on his muscle sent fireworks of pleasure throughout Brad. His mind immediately clouded over and instead of internally begging for help, he begged for the other men to feel up his stone muscles. Their hands were like lightening, sending darts of pleasure all throughout his core.

“Check out his booty,” the one in red laughed, going so far as to cup each muscular cheek in his large hands.

Had he been able to, Brad would’ve black out from the sheer force of cumming. The orgasm that he couldn’t reach was building up inside of him, creating such an impossible pressure that was only growing larger and larger as the three other bodybuilders ran admiring and disbelieving hands over his pecs, his biceps, his thighs. One even grazed his cock and Brad wished more than anything that he could cum.

He felt so turned on by the beefy hands on his vast form and he craved more and more. Had his cock been able to move, it would’ve been at full mast, shooting off load after load as the men felt up his petrified muscles.

The bodybuilder in blue ran over to the door and opened it, poking his head out. “Hey!” he shouted down the hall. “You guys have to come and see this!”

Brad could barely concentrate with the pleasured pressure that kept growing inside of him, making him feel like he was about to explode into a mess of hormones and cum. But the sounds of other muscle men approaching created such a sense of excitement. That was quickly fogged over when one of the men flicked his hard nipple, nearly making him black out as his horniness exploded to unforeseen proportions. 

“What is this?” Brad wondered as he studied the unknown package that had been sent to him. He walked inside his house, trying to look for a return address so that he could try to figure out who’d sent him this package, but there was none. All that it said in bright red letters was: BRAD ROWE.

The macho man looked at the clock on the wall and figured that he could open up the box while still making it in time to the gym. He was always looking forward to a work out, being described as a man’s man and very masculine.

Shrugging his massive shoulders, the bodybuilder ripped the top flap open. There was a mechanical whir and as soon as the muscle man had the box open, a bright flash of rainbow, iridescent light flickered. It was so bright that spot formed in the man’s eyes and he stumbled back, rubbing at his eyes in irritation.

“Like, what the hell?” he squealed.

Once his vision was clear of spots, Brad’s brow furrowed in wonder over the odd way he’d spoken. After peeking into the box and seeing that it was empty, he cleared his throat and tried again.

“Like, that was suuuuuper weird,” he chirped, his voice sounding as if it were a few octaves higher and with a much noticeable valley girl twang to it. He shook his head, thinking that it was just an odd reaction and tried again: “Um, like, testing?”

The blood drained from Brad’s face at the gay words leaving his mouth. He gasped when he looked down, noticing that his wrists were bent slightly as he waved his hands in front of him, while simultaneously jutting his hip out.

“Oh em GEEE!” he squealed, wincing at the twittering way he spoke. “Like, what the hell is wrong with meee?” He rushed down the hallway towards his bathroom, noting the obvious way he swayed his hips as he walked. He tried with all of his might to walk as he normally did, but the bodybuilder was horrified to discover that he could stop moving his hips back and forth seductively as if he were trying to advertise his muscled butt. There was even a noticeable arch to his back as he pushed out his pecs.

He made it to the bathroom and stared into the mirror, wailing out and flailing his hands effeminately as he stared at his reflection. His hair was noticeable blonder and there was absolutely no trace of body hair anywhere on him. Brad’s bright blue eyes widened as he stared at his slightly altered image in the mirror, licking his lips unconsciously when he stared at the nubs that stuck off his large pecs. He saw that he was pursing his lips unconsciously, but couldn’t stop himself.

“Like, how am I gonna make it like this?” he whined in his new voice, blushing as he imagined himself in the gym, twittering around and sashaying his muscled ass like a cockhungry fag. “Like, I cannot wait to get my slut butt fucked!” His heart fell in his chest at the words that left his mouth, but he was powerless to stop his body from swishing out the front door…

Offseason time was over and Brad Rowe worked hard to get cut so that every contour of his massive muscles was visible, especially when he was on stage and posing for the judges. He basked in the awed glances that shot his way whenever he was shredded, showing off his large abs that covered his v-shaped waist.

He’d been spending nearly everyday in the gym, working out to cut down his body fat to get in peak physical condition, and his progress was clearly evident in the cut muscles bulging out on his shredded form that garnered envy from numerous fellow bodybuilders.

Brad finished up his workout late on Friday night, staying long after every other patron had left, and waddled out of the locker room with his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He passed by the in-house juice bar, his stomach gurgling since he’d been on a strict diet that had practically eliminated carbs.

“Hey Brad!” the employee, a smaller guy named Vince, waved at him. “Have a good workout?”

“You know it,” Brad smiled back, flexing a massive bicep for the little guy. “Competition’s in a  couple weeks and I’m well on my way to winning.”

Vince nodded. “Wanna post-workout shake?” he offered. “We got this new flavor and I was told to hand out samples.” He shuffled around with something under the counter before setting a styrofoam cup down onto it.

At first Brad was going to politely decline so he could stay within his caloric limits, but the gurgling in his flat, cobblestone-esque stomach resulted in him heading towards the counter. He picked up the cup and peeked inside at the dark blue, almost violet, mixture.

“What’s in it?” he wondered, frowning when he couldn’t see a nutrition label on the plain cup.

Vince scratched the back of his neck. “Um,” he paused, “if I remember the brochure correctly, it has a lot of potassium in it. Oh, and antioxidants since it’s blueberry-based.”

Brad cocked his eyebrow at the shake, continuing to study it.

“It’s low-calorie,” Vince hurriedly added.

The bodybuilder shrugged his broad shoulders and brought the cup to his lips, drinking the smoothie. It was sweet and the flavor of ripe blueberries seemed to overpower any other sort of flavor, but overall it was the most delicious shake he’d ever had. So much so that he’d finished the entire cup in under a few seconds.

“That was pretty good,” Brad mused, tossing the empty styrofoam cup into the nearby trashcan. “I might have to make that my regular.”

“Glad to hear that,” Vince grinned widely as he wiped down the counter.

Brad moved to wave goodbye to the smaller man when he paused and furrowed his brow in confusion. Upon closer inspection of his own beefy hand, his fingernails looked as if they’d been painted blue or a really deep purple.

“What the hell?” he wondered aloud in his deep, booming voice. Surely the muscle man would’ve remembered painting his fingernails such a deep and noticeable color, hence why he was frozen in spot as confusion flooded his senses.

“Everything okay, Big Guy?” Vince asked, covering his mouth as he tried to stifle a laugh.

Brad had to clear his throat twice in order to regain his voice as he struggled to comprehend what was happening, his eyes widening in a mixture of shock and horror as he saw the blue-violet pigment of his fingers rapidly spreading down his fingers, to his hands, and up towards his torso until both of his chiseled arms were the purplish color. His heart racing in his chest, the purple bodybuilder looked over at Vince, wanting to ask for help when he spotted his reflection in the mirror behind the small man.

Brad’s stomach dropped when he stared at himself, his entire body from head to toe tinged a deep violet. “What the fuck just happened?!” he cried out, unable to break eye contact with his violet reflection. The sweet taste of blueberries still dominated his mouth and he swore that could still feel some of the juices left over from the fruit shake still on his tongue.

Brad started to feel funny, like there was some pressure building up inside of him. He put his hands on his stomach to ease the weird sensation, gasping loudly when he felt them get pushed further away from him as his gut expanded outwards.

“Fuck!” he roared out in shock as he watched his abs push out into a large, round roidgut-looking mass from his stomach. His shirt rode up his new gut, still feeling as if it were getting tighter and tighter by the second as his chest continued the inflation, his pecs rounding out as they pushed forward.

Vince watched the whole process, even propping his elbows on the counters as he watched the bodybuilder fill up with berry juice before him.

“Wh-what’s happening to me?!?” Brad panicked as he saw his body inflate so an obscene, round shape. His arms followed suit, feeling heavier by the moment as they packed on size. There was a loud rip as his bubble butt expanded and burst through the confines of his shorts, the purple globes rounding and filling up with so much juice that the bodybuilder stumbled a little bit as he tried to maintain balance. Brad felt uneasy on his inflating legs, noting the sloshing noises that he could hear inside his expanding gut as he moved, sounding like he was filled to the brim with sweet, blueberry juice.

His shirt finally gave way and the purple, naked bodybuilder gained an uninterrupted view of his expanding body. His gut and chest had pushed out and rounded so much that they gave him an almost spherical appearance. His arms and legs packed on so much weight that he stumbled backwards, landing on his back. Instead of staying flat, the new shape of his growing body caused Brad to rock back and forth, the sloshing noises echoing out throughout the gym as he moved.

“Help!” he yelled, flailing his heavy arms and legs as best as he could, quickly finding that they were virtually immobile due to their extreme girth and they way they kept colliding into his round torso. He began to fear that he’d pop, his purple skin feeling taut as he kept expanding.

“Relax, Blueberry Brad,” Vince tried to reassure him. “You won’t pop, but we will juice you so that we can create more blueberry shakes to sell at gyms around the area.”

Like a water balloon being filled, Brad watched his gut continue to push upwards as he rocked on his back, surprised that he was still growing. His torso expanded so much that it swallowed his neck, his inflated purple pecs firmly holding his chin in place and preventing him from turning his head. His arms were slowly getting engulfed by his girth, followed by his legs. Ultimately, it didn’t take long before Brad was lying on the gym floor, looking like his head was attached on a giant muscled blueberry. The muscle contours of his former body were visible if one squinted hard enough, but other than that, he was perfectly spherical.

He tried to wiggle his feet so he could try to run and get help, but his immense weight from the excess juice in him and the fact that his legs had been virtually consumed by his immense gut rendered the act useless. The taste of blueberries was still strong on his tongue and despite everything, Brad craved more of the sweet fruit, his stomach gurgling at the though of downing another shake.

Vince walked out from behind the counter and circled around the helpless bodybuilder. “Well, it looks like you’re just about done,” he commented, poking Brad’s hyperbolas gut, taking joy in the way it seemed like he was poking an over-inflated waterbed. “Let’s go juice you.”

He placed both of his hands on the over-inflated lat and pushed with all of his might, giving a small grunt as he shoved against the blueberry bodybuilder.

It wasn’t obvious under his purple pigment, but Brad furiously blushed as he felt himself being rolled across the gym floor like a gigantic yoga ball. As he rolled, he could hear the sloshing of the berry juices inside of him that had turned him into this humongous purple ball. He just hoped and prayed that after he got juiced, he would be back to normal.

[3 Weeks Later]

Brad stood at his locker in the locker room, changing into his workout clothes.

His friend, Ryan, entered the locker room and clapped a hand on Brad’s broad shoulder. “Hey Bro,” he said, “how’d your competition go the other day?”

Brad grimaced and rolled his eyes, shooting a glare at the other man. “How do you think it went?” he muttered under his breath.

A sheepish look crossed Ryan’s face and he looked away. “Sorry, Bro,” he murmured. “I, uh, I’ll see you later.”

Brad just grunted as he gave up on trying to pull his tank top on over his still deep purple skin, just tossing it into the trash. Even after he’d been juiced by Vince a few weeks ago, the bodybuilder was pissed to discover that his skin was stuck being a deep violet color. But that wasn’t as bad as the massive permanent roidgut he now possessed.

Despite being squeezed dry of any blueberry juice, apparently a side effect besides staying purple was being forced to keep a large muscle gut that stuck out far from the torso. Brad frowned as he looked at his side profile and saw that it looked like his gut was defying gravity with how round and how far it reached out. Driving was difficult with the huge thing in front of him, and he always had to lie down on his back now since the thing made lying on his front a thing of the past. Plus, his prominent gut stretching out preventing him from being able to wear a workout shirt since they never managed to fit over the huge mass. His large pecs rested on it and every so often, he would freeze in fear at the smallest sound of gushing juice, fearful that he was expanding again. But each and every time he’d look down, he’d be greeted with that distended purple ball that was his stomach, staying its same obscene size.

But the taste of blueberries would fill Brad’s mouth every so often and he’d have to force himself to not waddle over towards the juice bar to order another blueberry shake…

The photographer snapped another picture, the bright flash creating little spots in Brad’s eyes, but he was able to blink them away. Brad Rowe was having a photoshoot that his manager had signed him up for, claiming that it’d help bring him more followers on social media. Brad had been a little hesitant at first when he’d learned that the pictures were going to be posted on a page that was designed to show off muscle men for other men to lust after, but at the end of the day he figured that even though he was straight, he could always use more followers.

That was how Brad found himself on the beach set, clad in just a skimpy blue poser that forced his large junk outwards like it was the star of the pictures.

“Nice,” the photographer grinned from behind his camera. “Now try another pose; maybe try to flex your abs a little bit?”

Brad nodded and leaned up against the wooden beam that was on the beach where they were doing the photoshoot. He raised one arm above his head and crunched his abs, making them pop out against his skin.

There was another flash but the photographer had a slight frown on his gruff face. He scratched at his stubble in wonder. “Hmm,” he hummed in thought. “Something’s not quite working.” He quickly opened up the bag that was by his feet and switched out the flashbulb on his camera, moving so quickly and what seemed like a purpose.

Brad just shrugged his broad shoulders and resumed his previous position, reminding himself that this shoot was meant to help boost his publicity.

“Hold that pose, and…” the photographer clicked the button on the camera and a shimmering light flashed out from the bulb, creating little spots in Brad’s vision. Not only that, but it was so large that a warmth brushed over him, making his skin prickle.

“Whoa,” Brad groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “That was a little bright. Maybe I should wear sunglasses?”

The photographer shook his head. “Nope, that was the perfect shot,” he beamed. “I think this will be the one that we put online. Wanna see?”

“Sure,” the hunky bodybuilder nodded. Once the spots were cleared from his vision, he began to saunter over towards the photographer, noting that something was off when he walked. He couldn’t exactly put a finger on it, but there was definitely something lacking in his gait.

The photographer held the back of the camera out, allowing Brad to get a full view of his picture on the small digital screen. He looked good with all of his large muscles popping out and a sexy expression on his handsome face. He studied the picture until something dawned on him.

“What the fuck?!” he yelled out, looking closer at the screen, blushing when he saw that it looked as if his posers had been photoshopped and cropped so that his junk was practically invisible. “What’s the point of that?”

The photographer held back a chuckle. “It’s just a picture, Mr. Rowe,” he snickered. “The camera just reflects what is shown.”

“Bullshit!” Brad argued. “You altered the picture! Just look at…” The words dried up in the bodybuilder’s mouth as he glanced downwards.

Just like in the picture, Brad’s blue posers were virtually flat against his skin as the pouch looked as if it’d been shrunk, barely containing anything. With a shaky hand, the bodybuilder pulled the top strap of the posers away from his smooth skin, going pale at what he saw. His previously eight-incher was reduced to a one inch-looking nub. Barely any of the shaft was visible, just a small cockhead and a pathetic set of balls the size of raisins. His heart jackhammered in his broad chest as he hesitantly reached down to grip the little nub, only able to use two fingers due to how small it was.

“Oooohhhhh!” he moaned loudly as soon as he made contact with the nub, the puny cockhead throbbing from a simple touch. Once his head cleared, he panted and looked up at the other man with panicked eyes.  “Wh-what happened?!”

The photographer shrugged as he began to pack up his stuff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Rowe,” he smirked. “Your manager contacted us, claiming that you wanted to have some photos posted on our site in order to advertise yourself.” He zipped up his bag and began to walk off. “I mean, you are known as the ‘Microdicked Muscle Man’.”

Brad wanted to argue, to plea with the man to change him back and return his cock. He opened his mouth, but the words felt wrong, especially after his frazzled mind began to fill to the brim with new memories:

He could visibly see himself being teased in high school by the other jocks for having such a puny nub, which had prompted him to grow his muscles to their currently massive size. He could see himself on stage at the many bodybuilding competitions he’d competed in, wearing tight posers that showed off just how much he lacked. And worse of all, he could vividly remember bringing home guy after guy who wanted the hunky bodybuilder to flex nude for them, showing off his vast form with his little nub barely visible from his trimmed bush. With his nub so tiny, all of his nerves were bunched up into that compact space, allowing the bodybuilder to get an overload of pleasure just by touching the pathetic thing.

“Oh fuck,” Brad panted, panicking as he felt the onslaught of new memories pushing out his old ones where he used to have a large cock that he’d use to please many women in his life. He grit his teeth as he desperately tried to hold onto them, but whimpered when they blurred away, instead being replaced by him getting sexual satisfaction from getting fucked in his giant bubblebutt by numerous men who would laugh at his puny nub.

The cool ocean breeze blew over Brad, and he shook his head, the fog starting to disappear from his confused brain. A smirk formed on his face and he began to wonder just why he’d felt so panicked in the first place, He let go of his poser strap, allowing it to snap back into place, moaning at the way the soft fabric rubbed against his nub.

With his massive chest puffed out proudly, the microdicked bodybuilder sauntered along the beach. Many of the other muscle men present gawked at his huge form, and Brad couldn’t help but smile and give them a double biceps pose or a side chest pose whenever they leered. However, he couldn’t help the growing excitement inside of him when a few of them stared at his nearly-empty posers, amused by the contradictory look of a massive muscle man with a tiny nub for a cock.

A daddy-looking bodybuilder gave Brad a wink, and the microdicked stud found himself waddling over towards him, ready to show off his vast musculature and hopefully get fucked. He couldn’t wait for the pictures he’d taken at the photoshoot to be posted on the site that was directed towards men who lust after muscles. His small cockhead throbbed with excitement at the many large cocks that he’d be able to take with his image out there. 

Brad knew that every guy would be contacting him, wanting to get an up-close and personal look at the Microdicked Muscle Man.

“Here you go, Sir,” the assistant said as he put on the finishing touches of the spray tan.

“Thank you,” Brad said, admiring the assistant’s work. “You really saved my ass. I have no idea what happened to my usual guy. He just wouldn’t pick up his phone for some reason.” 

It was the day of one of the big bodybuilding competitions, and Brad’s usual guy who spray tanned him to make his muscles pop was nowhere to be found. He was lucky that one of his competitors was friendly enough to recommend the current guy to him, not giving out much information but just telling him that he’d send him his way.

“Don’t thank me yet, Big Guy,” the man said, slapping Brad on his broad back, rather hard.

Brad stiffened, not wanting there to be any handprints on his tan. He quickly turned around and looked in the mirror, confused when he saw what looked like a long, black zipper running down the broad expanse of his wide back. “What the hell is this?” he demanded. “Is this some sort of prank?”

“You’ll see,” the guy mysteriously said as his arm shot out at a rapid speed, yanking on the zipper to pull it downwards, effectively opening it.

Like the air had been punched out of him, Brad felt breathless for a brief moment and then felt as if his center of gravity was disturbed. His eyes widened in horror when he watched himself deflate like a balloon in the mirror, his body losing mass as it crumbled down onto the floor. He wasn’t able to move his body at all, and even if he had been, his back was so wide that there’d be no way he could reach the zipper and close it.

“What are you doing to me?!” he yelled, his voice getting muffled as he head began to deflate and flop over onto itself. The rest of his body collapsed in on itself until he was pile of freshly tanned skin lying on the hotel floor.

“Just wait and see,” the man taunted, stepping forward and grabbed a hold of the deflated Brad. 

Brad was shocked as he watched in the mirror as the man stepped inside the hole created by the zipper. He could feel him squirming around inside of him, fitting inside of his massive body as if it were a glove designed specifically for the unknown guy. He tried to yell, tried to fight back, but it was as if he were completely paralyzed and helpless to do anything at all that wasn’t the man’s will.

“There we are!” he heard his own voice cheerfully announce.

He winced internally as he watched his own body hold its massive, muscled arms out like it was showing itself off. He even did a three-sixty turn in front of the mirror, the man inside of him demonstrating that he had completely control over all of his actions. Apparently that control extended to his voice as well as he tried to cuss him out or even beg for his body back, but was unable to do anything expect watch and feel his own body move beyond his control.

“You know, once the other guys heard that Brad Rowe was competing, a lot of them thought that they’d lose considering how impressive your body is,” the man inside of him made him say out loud. He pulled his poser away from his body to check out his cock. “Really impressive actually.”

Brad mustered all of his inner strength to fight back, but it was useless. He couldn’t do anything with the man inhabiting his body as if he were a suit.

“But,” the man made him say, a devious gleam in his eye, “I doubt you’ll win the competition if you go on stage in front of all those judges and do this…” He saw himself turn around and bend over. Making sure to glance over his broad shoulder, Brad’s heart fell when he felt and saw his body yank down his poser to flash his tight hole to the mirror. “Maybe we’ll even finger ourself? I haven’t decided yet, it depends on how much I enjoy your body. Thanks for it by the way.”

Brad screamed internally, but was silent as the man forced a smile onto his face and made him strut out of the hotel room and towards the convention area where he knew he’d be humiliated in front of the entire crowd.

He passed by a fellow competitor in the hallway and winked at him.

“Hey, why don’t you swing by my room afterwards?” he heard himself ask. “You can feel how powerful my glutes are.”

Brad Rowe studied himself in the mirror one final time, running his eyes up and down his impeccable form that was tanned and contest ready.

“Ready to kill it out there?” one of his friendlier competitors, Alan, asked him. The other bodybuilder was massive, clad in just a red poser that popped out noticeably against his tanned skin. His muscles were rippling and looked like he’d spent incredible amounts of time in the gym in order to grow them to their incredible size.

Brad ran a nervous eye over Alan, suddenly feeling inadequate next to the other bodybuilder. Sure Brad was solid with hard-earned muscle, but he looked much smaller when he stood next to Alan.

“What?” Alan asked him, picking up on his friend’s nerves.

Brad shook his head and chuckled a little, trying to get over his envy. “It’s just, shit, you look so fuckin’ massive!” he laughed and then gestured at himself. “I think I can only try for second now. Kinda makes me wish I had a bigger body.” He tried to laugh at the end of his statement, but his jealousy was clearly evident in his expression.

Alan chewed on his lower lip for a second before perking up. “Gimme a sec,” he bellowed and waddled off.  It didn’t take long for him to return, handing Brad a little cup of water that looked like some Alka-Seltzer had been dropped into it.

“What’s this?” Brad asked, cocking his eyebrow at the offered drink.

Alan smirked. “It’s something some guys use,” he smiled. “It’ll make your body look HUGE.”

“Kinda late…” Brad mumbled, but wanting to be nice to his buddy, chugged down the drink in under a couple of seconds. The bubbles tickled his throat as it went down and the extreme carbonation made him a little lightheaded. He let out a loud burp.

The announcer shouted out that it was time for the competitors to line up to head out on stage.

“See ya out there!” Alan said as he waddled over towards the stage.

Brad took a step forward, but the dizziness in his head intensified. He felt like he was about to topple over and had to steady himself against the wall in order to catch his breath.

“Damn, what the hell?” he grunted as he tried to take a deep breath.

He blinked the stars out of his vision and let out another burp, the gas from the fizzy drink building up in his gut. His sight returned and his eyes went wide when he saw his muscles actually starting to grow right in front of his eyes.

The bodybuilder held out both of his jacked arms in front of him, smiling widely in disbelief as he saw them grow in size, appearing to get larger and larger with each passing second. Even his chest pushed out, his pecs pushing farther away from him and jutting out far enough to block his view of his lower body. His heart raced in his now-enormous chest and Brad couldn’t help the swell of pride he felt as he watched his muscles pump up right before his eyes as if he were a balloon being inflated. The drink that Alan had given him had actually worked!

“I can’t believe it worked— what the fuck?!” Brad squeaked, going deathly white when he heard the chipmunk-sounding voice that escaped from his mouth. It was so high-pitched that it sounded as if the muscle man had been huffing on helium.

He reached up to rub at his throat, his head hurting as if felt like he had to focus all of his attention just to maneuver one massive limb. Once his hand was in front of his face, he yelped when he noticed that his palms were giant too, looking as if they were now the size of a workout plate.

The panicking bodybuilder shifted his line of sight back towards the mirror that he’d been standing in front of earlier, gasping at what he saw.

“What happened to me?!” he squeaked in his comical voice as he stared at his new body. His muscles were their same size; they hadn’t grown a single inch. Instead, the bodybuilder stared in horror at his head which had shrank down to the size of a plum.

He looked ridiculous with such a tiny head attached to his massive bodybuilder frame, throwing his proportions all out of sync. It made his body look enormous by comparison, Brad reddening when he realized what Alan had done to him.

“That son of a bitch!” he growled in his chipmunk voice. He tried to stomp over to the stage where everyone else was, but his body felt so heavy and giant that it was hard just to move. He had to focus all of his attention whenever he picked up a muscled leg and stepped forward, careful not to topple over.

“Brad Rowe!” one of the workers called out. “You’re about to be called up on stage! Are you ready?” Footsteps sounded out and one of the employees walked back, dropping his clipboard in shock when he saw Brad and his tiny head.

“You have to help me!” Brad shouted, cupping his hands in front of his entire head to amplify his small voice. “Call a doctor!”

The employee ran disbelieving eyes up and down Brad’s form. “Whoa, Dude,” he mused. “You’re massive!”

Brad wanted to argue, but looked back into the mirror again. His body looked totally giant when his tiny head was taken into consideration. His muscles were massive, and with a plum-sized head, they’d only look all the more bigger.

“A-are you ready to go onstage?” the employee repeated.

All of the fear drained out of Brad and he threw both of his giant arms up in the air, performing a double biceps pose. His small head nearly disappeared behind all the flexed muscle. “Yeah!” he squeaked. “…I just need some help getting to the stage.”