literature

The Procedure

Deviation Actions

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Brad Constantine was freezing.  He lay on his back on the gurney as the others worked on him, getting him ready for the final stage of the procedure.   All the big men around him were dressed as if they were ready for a mid winter hike in coveralls, hooded sweatshirts, and down filled coats and vests.   Some even wore gloves and knit caps.  When they spoke or sighed a faint fog would escape from their lips. The dungeon like room they worked in must not have been heated.  Brad was naked except for a paper thin sheet that kept getting tossed over him before it would be almost instantly pulled back as someone else had to get at his muscled body with a syringe or instrument.  He already had a hose shoved up his ass and more disturbing was the catheter that was shoved down his cock.  It made it feel like he had a five inch skewer running down the thing. He had volunteered for the procedure, even begged for it but now that he was strapped down to the table being worked on by a team of muscle bound freaks, other thoughts began to creep into his mind.

He had been prodded and stuffed by this crew for two days in preparation for the procedure.  IV bags had continually dripping into both arms as well as the thick veins on his legs.  The bags had been replaced by even bigger ones every hour or so.  The ivs had bloated up his body some.  They hadn’t made a huge change in his 175 pound muscled build but it reminded Brad of a post contest bloat.  His toned muscles had filled up a bit, maybe lost some definition.  

Then there were the feedings.  Every half an hour one of the hulks brought in a two gallon sized container of his “protein” shake.   Well that was what they called it.  It didn’t taste like any protein shake Brad had ever tried.  As for the massive shake even after bodybuilding seriously for just short of three years and two contests there was no way that Brad could consume that much of anything in one sitting, not that he was given a chance.   His feeder as the hulk jokingly called himself had shoved a hose down Brad’s throat before he started working a handle back and forth on the top of the big bucket of goo.  The first time had been the worse but Brad had learned to relax and it made the later feedings easier. That’s what everyone had told him since he had showed up for all this… “just relax.  We all were in your shoes at one time.”  Brad still couldn’t believe that any of the freaks around him had ever been his size.  He imagined them coming out of the womb as 50 pound muscle bloated baby freaks; mothered by some Amazon she hulks. No way had these monsters had any mortal beginnings.   As the muscled man worked the handle Brad could see the goo filling the fat hose as it inched its way toward his mouth.  Then he could feel the cold mix slipping down his throat before it pooled in his belly.  It didn’t take long before Brad felt full but the smiling hulk kept working the handle.  Brad could see the shadow in the bucket and knew that he hadn’t even gotten a third of the mix pumped in yet.  Brad chewed on the fat rubber hose in his mouth as the muscle man kept pumping the stuff into him.  His tight six pack abs seemed to resist the forced feeding.  His belly ached.  He was grunting with each stroke of the handle by the time the bucket was half empty but the feeder assured him he was fine.   The man had sweat trickling down his forehead as he worked the handle and his enormous arms had pumped up from the effort. The guy’s biceps were bigger than Brad’s head and were as fat as a footballs.  The man had paused once; standing up and stretching out his back which responded with loud pops.  He reached over and shoved up the t-shirt Brad wore to get a look at his belly.  Brad’s narrow waist now sported a muscle covered bulge.  Just a little pout really, though it felt to Brad as if he had a beach ball shoved in there.  “Look nothing but a peanut”, the man had joked as he rubbed Brad’s mini roid gut with a callused hand before returning to the pump.  Ten minutes later when the man finally had pumped all the mix into Brad he set the bucket on the desk by the bed of the room Brad now lived in.  He left the hose down his throat as he explained that it would just make him barf to pull it out now.  He would take it out in twenty minutes or so.  Brad's belly made loud gurgling noises as the goo settled in to him. The hulk had helped Brad to his feet and pulled up his shirt as he stood beside him before the mirrored wall.  The young man was almost afraid to look at it expecting to see a weather balloon sized gut just seconds before it exploded all over the room.  What he saw was a volleyball sized mound that the hulk beside him was palming under his hockey mitt sized hand.   “You look like you are about to drizzle down your leg big guy.  That was nothing.  I take twice that much every hour.  No pump for me.  I just suck it in.”  The handsome man licked his meaty lips with a toss of his head as if to say, ‘tastie.’

Brad looked at the monster beside him.  As muscled goes Brad had a good foundation – great many said.  His buddies from back home that he had grown up with loved to go on about how Brad had hulked out in college and went on about his gains like he was some kind of a freak.  They swore he had gained twenty pounds of muscle every time they saw him – which wasn’t often these days.   Brad didn’t have any illusions.  To the average Joe he might be muscled but in the world of bodybuilding he was pretty average.  His arms were close to 18”, more after a good workout.  His pecs were broad and thick and strained most shirts he wore.  Nice broad shoulder tapered down to a narrow waist that made his upper body look bigger than it was.  His legs weren’t bad either, thick and muscled as was his ass, thanks to his wrestling days growing up.   What he lacked in height, the man had tried to make up for in mass.  At 5’6”tall, Brad was no giant but at that height, weighing in at 175 and around 6% body fat, Brad certainly had more than just your average jock bod.  Most of the women he hung with told Brad that he looked great just as he was and not to go too wild in the weight room.  “Don’t over do it” was how most put it, they warned that they would have nothing to do with him if he became one of those over grown ape types as they marveled at how tiny his muscled wasp like waist was.  Brad listened with a grin.  He had other ideas.  Despite his shorter than average height, most guys at the gym envied Brad’s build and assured him that two or three more years of consistent gains and he would be a hulk. Brad didn’t want to wait a couple years.   

Brad glanced up at the hulk next to him rubbing his belly.  The man was easily twice his size and so packed with bloated muscles that he looked slow moving.   There was not an ounce of fat on him anywhere just thick swollen muscles vying for space under his paper thin skin.  Brad had never seen anyone muscled like this guy or any of his buddies.  He almost looked fat, he was so huge and yet it was all muscle.  He wore a sleeveless UA shirt and long camo shorts that fit tightly over his mounds of muscle. The man was a couple inches taller than Brad but had to weigh close to two hundred pounds more than he did.  Shit the freak’s forearms were bigger than Brad’s upper arms.  Brad wasn’t surprised that he could suck down four gallons of this goo.  The man’s tight waist dwarfed Brad’s chest yet he still looked wasp waisted when it was compared to his ridiculously wide and muscled chest and upper back.  The man’s strong chin rested between two inflated pecs as he looked down at Brad’s belly while he stroked it proudly.  The big man told Brad to rest and pushed him back onto his bed practically picking him up like he was a little kid.  Brad had asked him in a muffled tone over the hose still planted in his mouth.  “How much you weigh?”

“Me?”, The freak asked.  “380.” The man grinned proudly as he tossed the covers over Brad.  

“Holy shit.”  Brad mumbled.

“That’s nothing wait till we get done with you buddy.”  Brad didn’t believe it.  He had hopes of walking out with maybe a hundred pound gain and at his height that would be enormous– no way, he had the genes to look like one of these monsters.   Brad figured 270 would put him in the range of the big dogs who competed at a national level and whose photos filled bodybuilding magazines.  The man dreamed of having a build similar to his idols Branch Warren and Lee Priest; two shorter than average bodybuilders whose insane mass had made them contenders.  Then he might be able to lay claim to freak status that his home town buddies tried to label him with.  Brad could just imagine their reactions if this procedure worked as he hoped.  The big man who had just stuffed Brad to the max grinned as he turned off the light as he stood filling the door frame, “You just survived your first feeding.  I’ll be back for another in twenty minutes tot ake the hose out so get some rest.”

That had been two days and so many feedings ago that Brad had lost count.  Miraculously the odd shakes were rapidly taken in by his body leaving him ready for more and after about a half a day even hungry for more. He assumed all the ivs and injections had kicked his motabilism into overdrive.   At first Brad had thought that much weight gainer or what ever the hell it was would have blown anybody up like a toad.  The only after effect Brad was aware of was a faint rubbery taste but he attributed that to the feeding hose they kept shoving down his throat.

Brad wanted to pull the thin sheet tighter over his body but his arms and legs were strapped down with thick leather bands.  It was all he could do not to tremble or let his teeth chatter.  Brad knew it was dumb but he worried the hulks around him think he was scared.  Despite the constant prep for the procedure, Brad hadn’t seen much change in his build yet.  His post feeding belly bloat never lasted long.  He was sort of disappointed and wondered that maybe the procedure wouldn’t work on him.    

At this stage he just wanted to get it over with … that and to warm up.  His feeder whose real name was Rob stepped up with a hose that he explained he was going to put down Brad’s throat.    Brad’s throat was sore from all the feedings.  He turned to Rob and croaked, “I’m freezing.  Can I put some clothes on?”  

The big man glanced down, “Don’t worry about it.  You will warm up soon enough once the hulking starts.  Believe me!”

Brad rubbed the thin quilted suit that was stretched tight by Rob’s overblown muscles between his thumb and forefinger.  “Bro, you got one of these I can wear?  Please! I’m fucking blue dude.”  Despite his best efforts the man’s teeth chattered when he asked.  It was true the skin around his eyes and lips had a faint blue hue.

Rob had the fat hose inches from Brad’s mouth and paused as if the question threw him.  The man turned and called, “Hey Doc, Brad wants to know if he can wear one of our suits or something?  He’s freezing.”

Doc Peters stepped through the crowd.  It was the first time Brad had seen the man since showing up for the procedure.  Peters was the man he had first seen in the gym that had been the start of all this.  The man wasn’t a real doctor though everyone referred to him as if he were.  Brad had been told he had a PHD; not that he could prove it or that it really mattered to him much.  The man was no less muscled than the freaks around him and his outrageous build and the rumors that he had some magic way of growing muscles had led Brad to practically stalk the man until he finally agreed to use Brad as one of his guinea pigs.  Despite it all, it had taken a good six weeks to convince the man that he would make a good test subject.  At first Peters brushed Brad off telling him he was too young, too small and to come back in a couple years and then he would see …maybe.  If there was one thing that Brad was better at than growing muscles; it was selling himself.  His couple years as a trainer had helped him hone the skill.  He had pursued Peters harder than any of the ever changing string of a woman that he conquered and tossed aside.   He tried to corner the man whenever he ran into him to plead his case.  Brad made sure he ran into him several times a week.  He wasn’t going to accept no for an answer.  Brad hadn’t been too shy to explain that Doc needed a handsome bull to sell his new treatment and that Brad was ideal for the job.  The trainer even resulting to sending him morphed up pictures of himself to illustrate his ideal build.  He made the photos just as outrageous muscled as he could to get the point across that ‘too big’ was just not a part of his vocabulary. To cap his presentations off Brad never failed to end a conversation with the man without at least once flashing him his confident smile as he mumbled, “Come on Doc, supersize me.”

Brad had been surprised that he had never seen the guru until now.  When he had asked any of his many handlers about the missing leader, he generally got a non committed reply such as, “Oh he’s around here somewhere.”  Now the man stepped forward with a clipboard full of notes in his hand as he glanced up as if interrupted from important business.  He stared at the two men and said in a distracted tone, “No sense in putting him in something he will just hulk out of.”

Brad chattered, “Doc, I’m freezing here.”

As if annoyed, the man walked to a metal storage cupboard and opened the door.   The unit was full of what looked like blue snow suits like the ones most wore.  There was a fancy stitched “Peters Muscle Blimp Tech” over the left chest.  The man absentmindedly pulled one out and tossed it to Rob, “OK suit him up then.”

Rob had been busy unhooking Brad’s limbs and helping the man to his feet where he stood clutching the sheet around his chilled body as hoses snaked from underneath it.  The big man caught the huge suit and glanced down at it.  The hulk’s face broke into a grin, “You sure you meant this one?  Nobody’s ever fit into this one?”

“He will”, the man responded almost with a bored tone.

Rob dressed Brad in the quilted suit as if he was helpless while another huge assed hulk was busy cutting a hole in the ass to feed the hose in Brad’s butt through.  The suit was enormous and hung loosely over him but soon the hoses were snaking from it as Rob zipped up the front. Extra material pooled around his wrists and feet.   Brad tugged the folds around him like a blanket, noting the slick cold material as it slid over his hairless skin.  The suit was wildly over sized; Brad had never seen anything so big, though all he cared about was that it shielded him from the chilly air.  There were knit cuffs at the wrist and ankles that fit tightly around his thick limbs but the body of the suit bagged around him.  He felt like a child trying on adult sized clothes.  “I … don’t you have anything smaller?”

“Don’t sweat it; it will fit better in a minute.”  The man looked at Brad as he stood before him with the suit hanging off him on all fronts.  As if to fix the problem Rob cinched the belt in tight around Brad’s 28” waist.  “There better?”

The belt at least held the waist somewhere in the general area that it was intended to be though the crotch still hung half way to his knees.  Brad had enough slack in the top to pull it to one side and turn to check the size.  The label read ‘6xl’.  “6x… I never heard of anything so big.  What size do you have on?”

The huge man grinned up at him, “3x”

The words sunk in for a minute.  The man whose body was packed with 380 pounds of bloated muscle had on a suit three sizes smaller than the tent he now wore.  Brad felt a spin in his gut as he wondered just what the Doc had in mind for him.

Rob was practically picking the man up as he pushed him back on the gurney.  “Wait… I …I…”

“What?”  Rob asked cheerfully as he refastened the straps to his arms and another hulk strapped down his legs.   “Why are we strapping you down?  Some guys get kind of panicked when the procedure starts.  Kind of claustrophobic I guess.  It’s just safer for everybody.”

“No what is he planning on doing to me?”  Brad asked quietly as if he might pull Rob into his confidence.

Before the big man could respond, Doc stepped up and set his clipboard down on Brad’s chest.  “Just gonna supersize you is all.  That’s what you wanted isn’t it.”

“Sure…yeah.”  Brad felt uncomfortable.  Sure he wanted nothing more than to push the limits of muscularity; to be one of the hulks in the gym without having to wait ten years to get the full effect: to push his body beyond his natural limits but there was something unsettling about this as if it was out of his control now.  

Peters tugged at the straps holding him down.  “Then what is the problem.  My ace spokesman’s not getting second thoughts is he?”  The man grinned at him as his loud deep voice seemed to resonant from the depths of hell.

“No…no I guess not.”

Peters glanced over at Rob, “Let’s get going.  Plug him in and pump him up.”  The guru picked up the clipboard before he turned away.  Brad saw on the back of the file the words: Extreme Growth Limits Test; Subject Brad Constantine.

Brad turned to Rob, “Hey wait a minute.  What…”

The big assistant clamped a thick hand on his shoulder and pushed him down interrupting, “Stop worrying.  Everybody gets nervous at this point.  Just relax you’re gonna love this.”  Rob lost no time shoving the hose down his throat though Brad was still trying to talk to him and gasped and sputtered as the hose slid in.  This one was different from his feeding tube.  Once it was in place the muscled freak turned a ring on the hose just outside of Brad’s mouth.  The man felt something swell in his mouth.  There was an inflatable ball around the hose that ballooned in his mouth locking the hose in place.  There was no chance of Brad talking now as his thick lips were stretched out over the ball like some ape.  The ball made his jaws ache.

Doc had tossed his clipboard down and taken a seat before a computer screen.  The other hulks in the room almost seemed giddy as activity increased around him.  There were brass couplers on the hoses that were implanted into his body and with sharp clicks other hoses were snapped into these.    Brad kept raising his head trying to keep an eye on what was going on around him.  He followed the hoses across the floor to a large tank standing against the far wall.  The tank was huge.  One of these muscle monsters could have easily fit inside the thing.  Brad at first wondered if it was full of more of the muscle building shake and that they were going to pump him full of it until he either grew or popped.  It was several minutes before he noticed the motor on top of the thing.  It looked just like a huge air compressor like you saw in a garage only bigger.  ‘No it can’t be’, Brad thought.  ‘This is nuts.’

“All right”, Peters said. “Pump him up.”  

Rob and another freak tripped several switches on the consol.  The giant machine in the corner sputtered to life.  Brad’s anxiety grew.  For the first time he noticed cameras mounted near the ceiling in the four corners of the room.  The lenses spun and zoomed in on the man.  The compressor hummed loudly in the corner.  Its drone made the floor tremble.  The others began to finish their work on him and backed away from the gurney.  As they did Rob leaned down and planted a broad hand over his right pec, sliding the slick material back and forth as he said, “Enjoy bro, you got a bird eye view of the show.”  The man patted his cheek and pointed up.  For the first time Brad noticed a huge mirror suspended from the ceiling above him.  Brad had to admit he looked scared as he studied his reflection.  His muscled body was lost in the folds of the large suit he wore.  The only thing familiar to his eyes was his tiny looking face and he wondered what he had gotten himself into?  Rob nodded to anther big guy they called Stone.  The man was as over muscled as any of the others in the room.  He wore a red quilted vest that clung tightly to his thick chest and shoulders and highlighted his narrow tight waist.  His enormous arms were covered in white spandex shirt and were so massive they looked as if they erupted from the tiny armholes of his vest.  The man’s upper arms were easily over 30” around with forearms at least 20”.  His tight shirt only highlighted his outrageous size.  The man stepped up and took hold of one side of the gurney while Rob grabbed the other.  With a rattle and bounce the two men pulled the frame out of the sides as the bed telescoped wider until Brad lay with his arms and legs spread eagle on a queen sized matt.

“What are they doing?  What are they doing?”  The words repeated in Brad’s mind as his anxiety turned into panic.  He wanted to yell, “No stop!  Let me go.  I don’t want this”, as the machine rumbled louder and louder.  The machine fell silent accompanied by a loud hiss that ended a second later.  Rob reached out and gave his chest another pat as the last two of the crew disappeared out of his line of sight.

Peters’s deep voice barked.  “Blow him up.”

Brad lifted his head as he saw two hulks twist open values on the airlines that had been shoved into his body.  The stiff rubber hoses twisted as the pressure snaked its way to him accompanied by a loud hiss that seemed to ring in Brad’s ears. “This can’t be happening!” the man repeated to himself.  He had expected some new generation muscle building drugs and balls to the wall workouts not some crazy assed shit like being hooked up to a massive air compressor.  This was insane!

Brad felt the air snake through the hoses and into his body on all fronts.  His body grew stiffer and for a second it felt as if he was feeling a muscle pump like after a great workout.  Only this muscle pump was over every inch of his body.  For a moment he wished he was naked again so he could see the effect.  Brad loved that feeling and craving the effect fueled all his weightlifting sessions.  His anxieity subsided some.  A full body muscle pump would be something to see.  

Almost as instantly every muscle on his body began to cramp and ache.  It was excruciating!  Brad’s limbs stiffened as he rolled his head back into the pillows.  It hurt so badly.  A full body muscle cramp with no way to relieve it.   Brad tapped his head into the pillow as he began to grunt loudly.  He didn’t care who heard.  It was then that he noticed Rob at his side.  The big man patted his chest and said, “Try to relax.  This is the worst and the pain only lasts a little while.”

The man’s touch ached and Brad wanted to lash out at him.  His unbending arms jerked at the restraints as his tortured muscles felt rigid and incapable of moving.  The hose in his mouth kept him from yelling.  The pressure built within his body.  It was like when you try to blow up a new balloon and it fills to a point and then stops inflating as the latex fights against stretching.  That was just how Brad’s body felt as the hissing sound became deeper as if his body was fighting growing.  The pain was excruciating.   “I’m not a balloon... I’m not a balloon.” Brad’s tortured mind repeated, as he tried to make sense of what these crazy muscle freaks were trying to do to him.  For their part the room full of hulks seemed to grow more excited by the minute as they laughed and shouted encouragements.  All except for the serious leader who watched with his thick arms folded over his chest as he tapped a pen against his pearly white teeth.  Brad began to wonder if this was all some kind of crazy joke to put the cocky runt in his place.  Maybe they rigged this all up as a practical joke on Brad and were now filming it and laughing at him for thinking he could be one of them.  The man’s mind was filled with wild thoughts and doubts and the pressure seemed to slowly build within every inch of his body.  If his muscles were growing, there was no sign of it under his tent like suit.

The pain and pressure grew steadily as Brad wondered how much more he could take.  For the first time his tortured thoughts began to wonder if they were going to kill him.  That maybe the pressure would get too strong and his body would explode like an over ripe tomato.  As this new fear filled him the pressure became unbearable.  Brad’s deep grunts had turned into steady moan.

The pressure now seemed to concentrate around his left shoulder and pec.  The man tugged at the restrains as the urge to massage the area over powered him.  Brad suddenly felt a drop in the pressure and a jolt hit his body.   He feared the worse.  He found himself rolled over to one side and unable to lay flat on his back.  Still his body was racked with pain and an increasing sense of pressure though there was some relief in his left side.  Brad feared his skin had ruptured but was amazed at what he saw in the mirror as he forced himself to look.  His left shoulder had blown up.  Despite the oversized clothes he could easily see why he no longer laid flat on his back.  His upper back shoulder and left pec had tripled in size.  He could feel the area slowly but steadily swelling still.  As the man stared dumbstruck into the mirror, his right shoulder and upper body blistered in a massive growth spurt.  Brad felt as if he was sitting up slightly as his thickened upper back propped him up a bit on the gurney.  His head was suspended off the meager pillow by the sudden growth.  His chin bumped into his nylon quilted chest when he tried to look down but when turned from side to side there was no mistaking the change in his shoulder width.  It looked as if he wore shoulder pads under the baggy suit.  Brad could feel the pressure growing in the far edges of his shoulders that now seemed twice as wide as before.  It was at the same time exhilarating and terrifying.  The sudden growth had been greeted with claps and cheers from the on lookers; all except for Peters who quietly watched only taking his eyes from the scene to jot down a hasty note in his file.

The commotion of the crowd was lost on the man strapped down to the gurney.  Brad was burning up.  Peters and the others had been right about warming up once the process started.  He wanted nothing more to rip off the suit he had so recently begged to wear.  Sweat poured from every pore of his skin and dripped down his head dampening the sheets and soaking into the suit he wore.  The blistering growth next hit his arms as the muscles doubled and tripled in size in a series of pops as the pressure over came the resistance within.  Brad could see and feel his hands follow suit as in one burst they appeared to double in size leaving him with broad vein cover palms and short thick fingers.  Next his lats expanded first on his right side and then his left.  Now his back slowly swelled wider and thicker as he watched.  The pressure was still strong but the feeling of being near exploding had subsided at least in his upper body.   The suit still was too big but now Brad could make out the hulked up form of his upper body growing and filling out its folds.   There was a cramping feeling in his neck and down either side of his spine just before his thick neck ballooned into a bull neck as almost simultaneously his traps blistered up atop his wide shoulders as if a smaller set were now rising from their mass.  All the growth pressing up around his head made him feel claustrophobic and his air muscled neck felt hard to turn.

Brad was still breathing hard and cramping all over.  The inches of movement available to his cramped up and shackled legs only revealed a bump where a knee was hidden in the folds of the enormous suit; otherwise Brad’s legs were lost in the baggy quilted material. His upper body was still swelling as his engorged muscles were fed by the air hoses trailing from the machine that had long since begun to rumble once again.  As the man watched his muscle bound upper body began to grow into the suit he wore while his lower body had yet to balloon.  A fresh fear hit the man as he wondered if due to some accident or miscalculation his growth might be limited to his upper body leaving him wildly out of whack.

Rob stepped up grinning as he shoved a fat pillow under Brad’s head, filling the space created by his thickening back.  “What’d I tell you?  Pretty sweet, ain’t it?”  The big man poked at his massive shoulder as if testing to see if it was full yet.  He then laid his hand flat on Brad’s chest and enjoyed feeling it rise with the inflation of the man’s muscles.  "You're blowing up, dude."

Brad turned to the handsome hulk and wanted to voice his fear of being left outrageously top heavy but the gear in his mouth prevented it.  Just then the cramping in his legs became worse and before Brad could turn back to the mirror a growth spurt hit his left leg.  In a second the man’s ass and thigh exploded with blistered muscle followed rapidly by his right leg.  As with his arms, there was a puffing up of individual muscles as the growth spread down his legs that were now taking shape within the suit.  In no time his lower body was steadily swelling along with his torso.  Brad felt his abs and intercostals pop as the pressure hit them until in a flash his entire body had now joined in a steady but slow inflation.
It was then that the cheers and catcalls of the other hulks caught Brad’s attention.  He glanced over and was surprised that Rob had joined the others as they laughed and congratulated one another as they joked about his inflation.  The crew seemed to enjoy this as if it was all great fun, though the serious Peters seemed apart from this.

The commotion around him couldn’t hold Brad’s attention for long.  He couldn’t take his eyes off the mirror as he watched and felt his body swell and slowly began to grow into the suit that he recently couldn’t imagine anyone filling.  The cramping sensation had eased except for sporadic cramps that randomly struck.  Brad was left once again with an over all muscle pumped feel that wasn’t unpleasant.  He just couldn’t believe his eyes.  His body was hulking out slowly and steadily.  In a room full of a dozen or so behemoths who’s weight varied from 290 to well over 400 pounds, Brad looked so swelled up that he would soon match  some of the more massive.  His short stature made the growth look even more outrageous but Brad didn’t care … at least he was growing.  His thin quilted suit now fit like some workout gear. It wasn’t skin tight by any means but fit well enough to highlight his crazy gains.  His massive muscles had started to blistered its surface and filled its wide expanse.  Brad could feel its slick material sliding over his engorged muscles smoothly as he grew, though the suit was now soaked with sweat.  

A couple of the muscled crew were busy rolling in several large vats of a thick liquid, whose smell Brad recognized.  It was the gunk he had been force fed for days.  Rob stepped to explain that he was nearly done with the inflation phase that would stretch his muscles to unimagined proportions in preparation for his real growth.  The second phase would feed the starved muscles with strength building fuel and mass that would leave him packed with solid muscle.  “That is unless you would rather go through life blown up like a muscle bound parade balloon?”  The others laughed.  Brad did feel like a parade balloon.  For all the ridiculous size he had gained, Brad did feel some what weightless.  

Brad just glanced over toward the big man as he explained what was happening to his body.  Brad’s shifting eyes were the only sign that he was listening to what the big man was telling him though the swelling man was taking in every word.  Brad had trouble taking his eyes off of his reflection in the mirror.  The air hoses were blowing his body into an enormous mass of swelling muscles.  He felt four foot thick by now with no signs of slowing down.  As the others chuckled and made much about his inflation, Brad watched with a fascination that was slowly turning into concern.  When would they shut this off?  Brad by now had grown into the over sized suit and was stretching it tight.  His bloated and arms and upper body filled the broad suit while his beach ball sized ass and legs as stout as tree trunks gave his short body and odd X-shape. The wide gurney now looked barely wide enough to contain him.  Brad’s shoulders pressed into the chrome bars that circled the bed while his strapped down limbs seemed to thither them down unnaturally as his inflated body rose thicker by the second.  His restrained arms forced his chest out even more then normal as his massive pecs strained the suit.  He no longer felt as if he laid comfortably on the bed as that he balanced precariously on it.  The cold zippers that ran up the legs and torso of the suit cut into his ballooning flesh.  He had an enormous V- taper to his torso and the zipper rose and dipped over bloated muscle.  The crotch of the suit that once bagged around his knees now was planted uncomforatbly between his ass cheeks and growing tighter by the second.  Brad couldn’t guess how big his 28” waist had grown by now… at least by a foot or more but his tight waist was still less than half the size of his chest! The belt now cut into his thickening waist as seams began to strain at the shoulders.   If they didn’t’ shut the compressor down soon the suit would be a goner.

Rob seeming to sense his unspoken concern said, “Don’t worry, they have to over fill you so you will have flexibility to move after the next phase.  We are almost done.”

The words brought little comfort to Brad as he watched his body swell up like a roided up toad’s.  The others began to take bets on what part of the suit would rupture first.  Money was tossed onto the gurney as the muscle bound crew called out body parts that would soon rip the too tight suit to shreds.  Almost simultaneously both shoulders split open as Brad’s tan flesh swelled through the openings. Two chuckling hulks both grabbed for the winnings as they elbowed one another back to the amusement of the others.  In a flash the men had pulled the sleeves away as they marveled over Brad’s wildly muscled arms while they tried to guess how big around they must now be.  The big men took turns poking thick fingers into the enormous vein covered muscles as if testing to see if Brad was full yet or not.  All Brad knew was that is arms now were bigger around then his waist had been at the start of this.

The suit pressing into Brad’s flesh was becoming a slow torture as the man out grew it.  With a loud pop, the belt gave way to the pressure as the metal buckle flying through the air made the huge men nearby duck for cover and back away.  First his right thigh split open the zippered leg of the suit, soon followed by the left.  Brad’s thighs were enormously muscled and now rivaled some chests of the hulks watching in size.  His legs swelled out wildly from the hips to the knee as each individual muscle swelled bigger and bigger; fighting for space under his thin tanned skin.  The men cut away the legs of the suit leaving only Brad’s torso clothed in what appeared to be some hot pants length short outfit.  What remained of the shoulders of the suit was pulled deeply into his puffed up shoulders.   Rob reached over to the shut off the compressor as he glanced up at his boss.  “Time to shut this down isn’t it?”

Doc glanced up from his notes.  “Nah, let him go.  He’s still got some growing to do.”

Brad’s ears buzzed at the words!  More growing to do!  What did the man have in mind for him?  He easily was more muscled than any man in the room.  Brad’s arms and legs were so packed with fat muscles that he wondered how he would ever bend them enough to walk, let alone lift weights and yet this man thought he needed to grow more?  The room was buzzing as the others made over his massive growth and the boss’s order.  Rob had stepped up to the table and was in a deep conversation with Peters.  Only bit and snatches of the conversation could be heard over the drone of the compressor and the commotion of the crew but Brad knew Rob was arguing to shut the compressor down.  Finally Doc slammed the metal clipboard down as he barked, “I’m in charge here and only I will guide this test is that clear!”  The others in the room fell silent as all eyes turned toward the pair and then glanced away from the obviously furious men.  Rob nodded his head and raise his jacked arms in submission as he stepped back without a word.  Just then the zipper gave way on the chest of Brad’s suit.  The suit split open as his wide chest and opened all the way down to his waist created a broad V  exposing mounds of quilted muscle for all to see.

The hum of the compressor filled the room as all eyes turned back to Brad as his body swelled up more and more.  Brad’s body had begun to dwarf the man’s head some time ago.  The effect was even more pronounced as the man’s freak mass began to over power his frame.  The short man was now sporting more mass than all of the freaks around him – all but two were well over 6’ tall with large frames to match.  Brad’s face and hands now looked petite in comparison to his massive muscles.  The sense of pressure squeezed him in on all sides as Brad’s mind reeled.  Worse yet was the thick leather straps that bound him to the cart.  The leather cut painfully into his flesh.  With a loud bang the strap on his right leg gave way, letting the inflated man’s leg bounce into the air and come to rest stiffly atop the chrome rail running around the bed.  Rob pushed through the others and in a flash had released the remaining bands which let the swollen man’s stiff limbs spread out more naturally.  Rob rubbed the man’s bruised wrist as others began to step away from the table.  No one spoke as Brad’s continued to swell up like some living blow up doll.  The men began to steal glances toward their boss who was busy taking notes only glancing up at Brad from time to time.  All wondered when he would call a stop to the inflation but no one dared ask.

Brad was beginning to feel panic rising through his body.  He looked as if he had might weigh 800 pounds or more if his muscles had been filled with anything but air.  He had this vision of one of those fat guys who the fire department has to rescue one day when find they can’t get out of their bathroom; only Brad was swollen with fat muscles.  His overblown muscles strained against his skin as each one now was swelled up well beyond anything nature had intended and still Peters let the compressors blow him up.  Brad’s movements were restricted to turning his head maybe at best five inches from side to side and raising his hands and feet slightly.  His over blown muscles were so tightly packed under his skin that all other mobility was impossible and still the machine continued to blow him up.  

The other silent men had backed away so far that they now lined the walls as if they wanted to get as far away from Brad as they could.  All pretty much stared at Peters as he worked in his notebook, wondering if he would ever call an end to this.  Only Rob stood beside the gurney with one hand on his hip and his head down as he waited.  Finally the boss glanced up and almost with a bored tone to his voice said, “All right shut the compressor down and fill him up.  The crew flew into action as the compressor fell silent and couplers on the rubber hoses were switched to the three massive tanks of protein shakes that everyone had long sense stopped pretending were protein shakes.

Brad felt the cool liquid flood into him bring relief from the over bearing heat of the inflation stage.  He didn’t get an almost immediate full feeling as before but with three bathtub sized vats feeding him he doubted that that phase would be long off.  His body almost felt like a sponge as if it somehow absorbed the liquid as fast as it was being pumped into him.   Brad felt cooling relief in ever part of his body … and something else.  It felt as though Brad body was slowly but steadily gaining weight.  None of this brought any ease to Brad’s fears over what Peter’s had done to him or planned to do to him.  Now he feared that once the process was over he would be left an immobilized 800 pound muscle freak.  

About then Peters made his way through the crowd of men working on him.  The man glanced down at him.  “Well Brad, now this next step will take several hours so I am going to give you something to help you rest.”  The man was rubbing his forearm with an alcohol swab before he shoved a syringe into one of the fat veins that ran across its surface.

Brad tried to shake his head no.  He didn’t trust the man.  Almost instantly the room seemed to spin and all faded to black.


“Brad Constantine…  Brad Constantine wake up…Brad…”

The words pounded in his brain.  He didn’t want to wake up.  He wanted to stay in the land of nothingness.  

“Brad open your eyes and look at me.”

The man tried to open his eyes if for no other reason to tell whoever was interrupting his sleep to fuck off.    The man tried to open his eyes but they didn’t respond.  He felt panic hit at once and the fear that he was paralyzed.  He couldn’t move his body!  Then there was blinding light.  Brad blink and closed his eyes against the blinding glare.  Slowly he felt his senses return as he twitched in the bed,  “Yeah, I’m here.”  Brad heard someone say in an extremely deep voice.  ‘Who said that?’ Brad thought.  He tried to respond again.  “I’m here”, and again the deep voiced man he didn’t recognize responded before he could.  It pissed Brad off that someone had interrupted his sleep to play tricks on him.  His eyes shot opened to find Doc Peters standing over him with his face pressed down into his.  Brad jumped back.

“Brad open your eyes and talk to me.”

“Fuck you asshole.”  The deep voiced man, who spoke Brad’s thoughts before he could, responded once more.  The room was filled with chuckles.

“That’s more like it.  I think he’s back in the land of the living once again.”

Brad opened his eyes.  Peters stood over him with his ever present clipboard pressed against his muscle bound chest.  Stone stood beside him along with another huge bastard whose name he never caught but the guy had the biggest arms he had ever seen before.  Brad looked at them wondering why they were all in his room with dopey grins.  It was then that he saw Rob sitting on the desk across the room.  He wasn’t looking at him.  The usually talkative man was facing the side wall and looking out the window with a glum expression.

“How do you feel?”

“Tired”, the deep voiced man responded for him.  Brad realized that the deep voice was his as he felt the words rumble in his throat as he spoke.  His throat was sore as hell.  Suddenly it all came back to him… why he was there… the process and the inflation… all of it.  Brad realized he was propped up on piles of pillows.  He slowly slid an arm up to his shoulder.  ‘I can move…fuck I can move.’  The man said to himself with relief.  Still he left enormous and as if he weighed a ton.  Brad pulled the sheet away from his body but he couldn’t see much but mounds of tan flesh pressing up around his head.  He kicked a leg trying to free himself from the bedclothes.  His leg felt massive and heavy.

“Take it easy.  You’ll be unsteady and lightheaded for a while.”  Peters said as the other two men bent down to hold Brad down as they tried to calm him.

Brad just reached up and pushed against the hands reaching out toward him.  “Fuck you pricks.”  To his surprise the men flew away from touch as if they were weightless.  The huge armed unknown man fell against the desk catching the corner of it in the side before he fell.  The man jumped to his feet and glared furious.  Peters stood between Brad and the two hulks with his arms spread back restraining the big men.  “Let him get his bearings.”

Brad threw back the covers and turned putting his feet on the floor.  He wore a tight pair of black spandex shorts whose material was gathered up over his enormous thighs.  What he could see of his legs was huge.  The man grabbed the end of the bed and pulled himself to his feet.  He felt as if he had gained a thousand pounds and every movement was a struggle but at least he could move.
Brad got to his feet and aimed for the trifold mirror that was mounted on the far wall.  Ever step felt as if he was a toddler learning to walk again.  His enormous thighs rubbed over one another with each step and his skin burned.  He grabbed the edge of the mirror as soon as he let go of the footboard of the bed.  The man felt dizzy on top of clumsy from his new growth.  

Brad stepped in front of the mirror and paused.  What he saw was both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.  His body was packed with bloated muscle.  His upper body reminded him of those Belgian Blue bulls that have they Myostanin deficiency.    Shit he looked about as broad as he was tall now.  His upper arms were easily 35” around with shoulders to match.  His pecs were as fat as hams and made a shelf over his bubble quilted waist that his hand laid flat could disappear under.  His back was so broad that his arms were held wide and away from his body with lats swollen like balls under his arms.  It looked as if he was flexing continually as his engorged muscles strained and pumped with any movement.  Brad had never seen anyone remotely built like he now was.  Olympia competitors would look malnourished next to him.  

The man’s legs were no less impressive.  His knees and ankles looked far too small for such mass and only highlighted the outrageous size of everything pressing around them.  His thighs were at least twice as wide as anyone in the room and swelled out a good 12” beyond his narrow hips before tapering back in at the knees.  Brad turned slowly before the mirror.  His calves were far bigger than his thighs had once been and wrapped around his lower legs as fat as a medicine ball.  Brad was so short that his calves almost rested on his heals now.  In fact all that mass only seemed to highlight how short he was.

The man looked up as he stood with his side to the mirror.  His upper back overshadowed his tight waist by a foot or more.  His spandex coated ass was now a beach ball sized mass of ripped muscle supported by hams that would have dwarfed any thighs of the freaks who watched Brad as he studied the effect the procedure had had on him.

The man was definitely a freak now.  Brad had hoped for a hundred pound gain and looked as if he had gotten three or four times that.    He looked at his face on a head the looked for too small atop such outrageous mass.  Even his face had changed.  Veins stood out on his forehead while his lips were fuller and the dimple in his chin had deepened.  For that matter his chin looked bigger and his looks more chiseled.  Brad barely recognized the man he saw reflected in the mirror and wondered if anyone who had known him before would either.  His dreams of surprising his hometown buddies with a hundred pound muscle gain were replaced with fears of the reaction of him walking in blown up like some unrecognizable muscle blimp.

Peters interrupted his inspection.  “You will feel clumsy for a few days but the boys here will work  and train with you and in about a week that will go away.”

Brad glared at the man before raising a massive arm and pointing at him.  “Shut the fuck up… I don’t want to hear a word from you.”  Without taking his eyes off the man, Brad said, “Rob, what did they do to me?”

The big man took his eyes off the birds feeding on the winter grass outside and glanced at him.  “He supersized ya, bro.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Three days.”

The swollen man looked down at the bruises that circled his wrists where he had been strapped down. Brad looked over at the serious man at the window and back at the mirror.  His pecs were so bloated that his nipples now faced the floor on the lower edges of the mounds.  For the first time Brad noticed he know sported a gold ring in his left one.  The man’s anger grew.  Not only had they blown him up far beyond his expectations they had pierced his nipple.  “What is this… what the fuck is this?”  Brad called out in a voice he didn’t know.

He pushed into big pec as he stepped closer to the mirror.  The ring was engraved with ‘Muscle Blimp Tech.’  “What the fuck…”  Brad felt his nipple as he examined the body piercing.  He had no feeling in his nipple.  He twisted both nipples between thick fingers.  The right one felt normal but the left felt like rubber or something.  He couldn’t feel his own touch but his flesh was tender around it.  Brad realized that it had to be some sort of surgery.   They had given him a fake nipple but why?

“Don’t mess with that.  It’s too soon.  Let it heal for a few more days.  We were going to explain that to you later but why don’t you lay back down and rest.”

“Somebody better explain now.”  Brad barked.  “Somebody better fucking explain now.”  As he yelled the man noticed some movement in the ring in his fingers.

Peters barked just as loudly, “Don’t touch that.  I said let it heal!”

As Brad stared into the mirror at the ring, he could see that the ring wasn’t pierced through the fake nipple but attached to a cord that was the same color as the new nipple, letting it slide in and out.  Dumbfounded, Brad gave the ring a little tug.  He could hear a sudden hiss.  No, he could feel a hiss and a growing sense of pressure in his massive muscles.  Brad stared horrified at his reflection as his jacked muscles began to slowly swell even bigger.

A MONTH LATER …
The bodybuilding community was abuzz with speculation after a three minute clip appeared on the internet.  The clip began with blaring hard rock and a close up of the handsome face of a blond headed man with sweat dripping down his brow.  The clangs in the background were familiar to anyone in the weight lifting game.  The shot panned back to show and outrageously muscled man curling 200 pound dumbbells with arms so bloated they barely moved eight inches before forearms impacted swollen biceps.  After ten curls the man tossed the weights to the floor with a crash.  The man then struts to a squat machine and drops the pin to the bottom of the stack which marked 1500 pounds.  He does a set of deep squats which is filmed from behind as the man’s spandex covered ass practically bounces off the floor before he stands again.  Twelve reps and the freak trips the lock that holds the padded arms that curl over his shoulders.  The massive man leans against the machine sweating.  He looks at the stack with disgust before glancing around the room.  The man struts over to a rack of dumbbells and grabs a 100 dumbbell in each hand and returns to the machine.  He stares down at the stack before he tries to wedge the extra weight onto it.  It doesn’t work.  In disgust the man tosses the dumbells to the floor.  He turns his back and leans against the frame sweating.  No one else is in the weight room but another bull who is benching about 500.  The short muscle freak watches the man rack the bar.  As the man lays there catching his breath, the freak walks up and grabs the man by the shirt and pulls him to his feet.  While the man is a good six inches taller than the bull and huge by any standard, he obviously weighs a couple hundred pounds less than the man holding him.  The bull pulls the man over to the machine and without a work grabs a handful of material at his ass and another at his neck and lifts the man and sets him atop the stack.  The freak then does another set, squatting the stack as well as the 380 pound man standing on top of it.  After twelve reps the bull lets the weight crash down knocking the human weight stack to the floor.

The freak then walks to mirror and begins posing his outrageous mass.  The man turns and hits shot after shot as his muscles pump up bigger and bigger.   He shoves one leg forward and lets all that mass shift over his leg several times before he flexes it hard.  The mass of muscle freezes like granite as slabs of muscle swell.  The man’s tight shorts rip up the side of his leg.  The bull repeats this with his other leg to the same results.  The man then hits a double bi as the camera zooms in on his enormous arms that would look comical if they didn’t match the proportion of the chest and shoulders supporting them.  The man relaxes bringing his arms down.  He pants as he studies his sweaty reflection.  He then reaches up and grabs the chest of his sleeveless spandex shirt and rips it from his body.  The bodybuilder then chuckles as he makes his blimped up pecs dance.  The camera closes in on a round nipple ring that clearly is engraved with Muscle Blimp Tech.  The bodybuilder looks in the mirror with a cocky grin as he pulls the nipple ring as if it is some sort of as rip cord.  There is a loud hiss as he does this then the camera pulls back to a wide angle as the man’s muscles begin to inflate.  The outrageously muscled freak smiles at the mirror as his muscles double in size.  His shorts strain and then rip to shreds, dropping away, leaving the freak wearing only a black jock.  Almost instantly the man’s muscles are so pumped that movement is questionable and the man looks like a 900 pound mass of muscle.   The camera pans in on his cocky grin while the freak nodds his head happily as the words slid across the bottom of the screen:  “Peters Muscle Blimp Technology, where there is no such thing as too much muscle.  Let your wildest dreams come true.  Call for an appointment today.”


Brad chuckled as he read through the responses to the clip on Youtube as he twisted his new nipple ring through the UA shirt he wore.  The comments varied from how could anyone get so freakishly muscled &#150with replies of juice or that is was easy to look so big when you’re a midget; to you must be a fag to watch this.  There was serious speculation about the clip being joke and that it was all cg crap and muscle suits while a couple responders swore that they knew the guy in the clip and that he had been a trainer at their gym a while back before he disappeared.

Brad leaned back at his new completely furnished condo with a new truck and motorcycle in the garage.  He had several more commercials lined up as well as a full calendar of photo shoots with talk of appearances at some spring expos.   For the first time in his life, Brad had some real money piling up in his bank account.  The huge man ran a thick finger over his nipple ring as he thought, “Yeah let your wildest dreams come true.”
Sunday Feb. 1
I did some corrections but probably missed a few. Thanks for the favs and comments - they are always appreciated.
© 2009 - 2024 inflatedmuscle
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wannabefeedee's avatar
Why is rob upset after the procedure?