The Giant of Bright Tower, Chapter 1

“I’ve done it.”

The words escaped my lips and were swallowed by my overstuffed basement. Books and papers occupied most of the tables around the edges of the room. The center table was a delicate masterpiece of glass tubes and beakers; arranged just so that I give the table a wide breath, afraid what even a single nudge would do. A large machine dominated one wall, several soft lights glowing in the dim. To my left was Harold’s cage, five by five and full of a number of gizmos and shape to climb. Now 2 feet 8 inches long and weighing in at 21.3lbs, my faithful lab rat was curled up in his little nest around his favorite stuffed animal.

I’m so thankful I was able to isolate the problem. Harold has been this size for almost a month, showing no signs of further growth. I shutter to think about what I would have been forced to do if he continued to grow in size, my food budget alone had skyrocketed. Little prick had been eating like a teenager. At least he was no longer growing like one. Sometimes I wonder, with the way the news is being treated these days, would a rat the size of a car roaming the streets of Bright Tower even be mentioned, or simply dismissed as fake.

Luckily, that was no longer an issue. Being the brilliant biochemist that I am, not only am I a hero who potentially saved the town from certain rat-related ruin but I gazed into my microscope confirming the last DNA sequence has been corrected. My Goliath serum was now compatible with the human genome.

My chair groaned as I leaned back. Years of only moving around in my lab and hunching over beakers, plus tons of take-out since I don’t cook, have really added up. It doesn’t really matter. At 35 years old, I’ve been rocking the chubby-gay-nerd look as long as I can remember. I remove my glasses so I can rub my eyes. I had pushed myself with a couple 16 hour days to finish a month before classes started again and I would be forced to teach, horror upon horror, chemistry 101. I swear, some of these freshmen have never even looked at the periodic table of elements and still will not have done so by the end of class.

I stood up and stretched. Now that the serum was ready, I would need a human subject. With a great job at the University, plus a few patents, I had plenty of money to fund this little project off the books. I just needed some scrawy 18 year-old looking for a gig and a chance to be as big as the bullies they left behind in high school.

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Three days later Bubba was in my living room, the opposite of a scrawny 18-year old. He was a six-foot tall massive man who I had a very real worry of breaking the couch straining beneath him. Late fifties, white hair in a crew cut with a matching white goatee surrounding his mouth, he looked stuffed into the table-cloth sized checkered shirt and Khaki pants so clean I got the impression they were new or rarely worn. Muscles bulged from his arms to his shoulders; his neck so thick he had unbuttoned the top three buttons to breathe. What buttons remained were strained over what appeared to be a smuggled beer keg. His gut was round and firm, curving his shirt out in front and back to be tucked into his pants, held back by a strong leather belt. Hands gently folded in front; he looked at me with an intense gaze, as if I were the one being interviewed instead of the other way around.

“Um…hi.” I started, trying not to stare…or drool. I flipped through the questionnaire he had filled out.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Lubhen?” He said in a strong voice with a hint of a smile.

“Oh, you can call me Steve. And well,” I began, “To be honest, you’re not exactly who I thought would be interested in this trial. I pictured skinny guys wanting to become your size, not guys who were already your size.”

He bowed his head, “I can see that. But can you see I am very interested in things that would make me bigger?”

I nodded, “I hadn’t considered that as a motivation. As you can see,” I waved my hand over my body, “ I don’t know a lot about gyms and the people who go to them.”

“Stand up.”

I paused, startled. Then I obediently stood up in my own living room. Hands on his knees, he pushed himself up and faced me. I looked up into his grizzled face as he lifted my arms and looked me up and down.

“S’not so bad. Give me a year and I could put some muscles on your frame.” He swatted my shoulder, then sat back down again with a loud whine from my couch. I followed.

“Right. In our exchanges, you said you were a personal trainer?”

“Yep, and as you can tell my specialty is bulking up.”

“I see,” my hands on the clip-board. “But it’s specifically your,” I searched for the right word, “Passion that makes me confused. You stated,” I rechecked the questionnaire, “that you take no drugs, legal or illegal. Which means all this,” I gestured towards him, “is without steroids. So obviously, you body is very important to you. Why would you suddenly be willing to volunteer it for my experimental trials? Keyword being ‘experimental’.” I leaned back and waited.

He took a long moment. “Before I answer, I want to confirm something. It’s the way you phrased your ad that caught my eye.” He leaned forward. “When you say bigger, you don’t mean just bigger muscles, do you?” He looked me dead in the eye awaiting my answer.

I hesitated. I didn’t know if I was ready to share this with other people just yet. I barely knew this man, and if word got out what I had accomplished, I had no idea what would happen. But there was something in the way he asked; like he already knew. He was asking to confirm, but he knew and he had come here anyway.

Setting down the clipboard, I got up and left the room. A short time later, I returned with Harold in a small cage and a binder. I set the cage on the floor in front of Bubba, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. I handed him the binder. He took it and opened it to the first page.

“As you flip through, the pages on the left side are measurements, blood work, and other data you probably don’t care about.” I pointed, “The right side is pictures. They’re all the same: One picture of him next to a ruler, the other of me holding him. As you can see on the first page, this guy used to fit in my hand.”

Bubba stared at Harold, then looked at the pictures. Softly, his mouth fell open. His eyes glanced back and forth between them as he compared the fur patterns. He turned the page. His eyes grew bigger and bigger as he flipped the pages faster and faster. Then, he slammed the binder shut; throat convulsing, unable to speak.

“I,” Bubba started, then stopped. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out. “I want…to be big. I’ve wanted to be big as long as I can remember. I played football all through high school, lifting and eating as much as I could. When I graduated, I just kept eating and lifting. Some guys said I should be a body builder, but the way they lean themselves out for competitions, I couldn’t, wouldn’t do it. Went for power lifting, so I could keep eating. Won some competitions, earned myself a name and some money. Opened up a gym for heavy lifters like me, and all along I just kept eating and lifting.” He shook his head.

“When I said I’m not taking any drugs, I meant I’m not taking any drugs right now. I’ve tried every weight gain powder, supplement, or hormone I could get my hands on. A friend got me some steroids , but they gave me a massive headache. A guy I knew swore by an IV drip of sucrose and insulin; just skip eating and get the sugar right to the muscles. Don’t worry,” he saw me make a face, “The guy was a doctor, he knew what he was doing. But he had been doing it longer than me, and soon after I started trying it, he got diabetes. So I stopped.”

He took another long, slow breath. “This wanting to be bigger… It’s a part of who I am. It’s my kink, or fetish, or passion, or maybe need? I don’t know if there’s a word for it. I love my muscles growing, going up a size in clothing. I love this fella getting bigger and bigger,” He caressed his belly. “ I love the feeling of being full; I eat until I’m stuffed every chance I get. And its not just me, I love anything huge. I’ve been jerking it to the Hulk and sumo wrestlers as long as I can remember. When I played football, I was surrounded by the biggest guys in school, and loved every minute of it. A bunch of them even wanted to mess around, and the sight of all that muscly, chubby flesh bouncing up and down on my dick was awesome. Some of those guys go to my gym, and we still mess around. But the fact that I remember how big there were and how big I am now; how easily I can pin these huge guys down, fucking them until I say were done? It’s beyond words.”

Bubba’s face was aglow, “There was this abandoned car in my gym’s parking lot that had been there for months. One night, I walked over to it, squatted down and flipped the thing over. As it crunched and wobbled like a turtle on it’s back, I got the biggest hard-on in my life. I walked right up to it and just dry humped the shit out of it, rocking it back and forth until I creamed my shorts. I felt so powerful, so strong, so…big.”

Bubba sat breathing hard, a sizable bulge visible in his pants. He turned to me, and there was longing in his eyes. “Now that I’ve seen that guy,” he gestured to the rat, “I’m in. I’m all in. You hand me a waiver, I’ll sign it without even looking. Just tell me, what is it your stuff is suppose to do?”

I sat there, hoping my hardon wasn’t visible. “ I guess…the best way to describe the serum I’ve created,” I struggled, trying to reduce complicated bioengineering to laymans terms, “Is that it’s not a steroid, or insulin, or hormone, or like anything you’ve tried. What I’ve done is create something that will affect your very DNA, and as far as I know I’m the first in the world to do so. And since this is brand new, I’ve started with something very simple. A small change that affects one of the most drastic changes the human body goes through; puberty.”

I cleared my throat, “There’s an ‘off switch’ in your body to stop puberty. That is, you’re a baby and you get bigger. Eventually puberty turns on and you start growing at an accelerated rate, then you reach a peak and you stop. I created a serum that stops the stop switch, so your body starts growing again.”

Bubba sat on the couch, not realizing his thumb was gently stroking the bulge in his pants, “So this switch you turn off…can it ever be turned back on again?”

“It has with Harold here.” I jerked my thumb towards the rat, “So far, I’ve turned the switch on and off twice. And I theoretically can do so as often as I’d like.” I smiled, “However, I don’t want to have to buy more food than I already have to, so I think this is a good size for him.”

Bubba stared at me. Then in one movement he was kneeling in front of me, squashing me into my chair with a bear hug. My face buried in his chest. His arms were constricting. And there was something hard digging into my thigh.

“Thank you. Thank you for this. I will do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just make me bigger. Please.”

“Can,” I squeaked out, “Can you start…by letting me breath?”

-

We would be doing the testing at my place. I hadn’t really thought this all the way through. With Harold, hunger had been the first symptom to appear, but again I thought I’d be feeding a small skinny guy. I don’t think my fridge could hold the amount of food about to be needed. But Bubba said not to worry. Three days later, he showed up at my door with bags of food, weight powder, plastic containers, a mini fridge, and his very own custom scale. He set them down in the kitchen and asked if he could borrow the oven while pulling out a huge bag of potatoes.

“You do remember,” I asked, slightly exasperated, “That I said I don’t know how hungry you’ll be? This is a lot of food.”

Bubba smiled. “You think any of this is going to waste?” he asked while throwing on a blanket-sized apron.

I smiled back. While Bubba began giving my kitchen the first real workout of its life, I rechecked the whole set up. The living room had been converted into Bubba’s bedroom, with a large mattress on the floor. The dinning room had been converted into a second lab. An exam table was set up in the middle of the room. A long worktable with a computer and multiple instruments dominated one wall. An EKG machine and portable X-ray filled the rest of the space.

Everything was ready to start tomorrow morning. It would be best if Bubba were well rested and carbo-loaded (‘eating for science’ he called it). I made my way back to the kitchen and stood in the doorway, watching his performance art. He moved from stove to cutting board, bubbling pots, oven, and fridge as graceful as a ballerina. While I was gone the kitchen had heated up, whether from the cooking or just him in a small space. He stopped and removed the apron. Seeing me in the doorway, he winked as he pulled off his shirt. Rolling his shoulders, his body flexed and gyrated. He slid one hand lazily across his belly from nipple to nipple, the other exploring the outward curve down. As it reached his belt, one hand did some flick and the buckle was undone. He took a deep breath in and shook, and his pants shivered and fell down to reveal he was going commando.

“Well, I did say to make yourself at home.” I smiled, enjoying the show.

Bubba tied the apron back on. “I’m usually naked at my place. I buy my clothes custom made, but still nothing ever fits quite right.” He said over his shoulder. Standing at the stove, I was getting the perfect view of the biggest ass I’ve ever seen. Two meaty basketballs pressed together. I was staring so intently I didn’t hear Bubba’s question.

“Hm-what?”

“I said, where do you keep your spices?”

“Oh. Cupboard on the left.”

Bubba reached up and got the one he wanted. He paused for a moment, and then he suddenly started walking backwards. I was so caught up watching the cheeks go up and down that I didn’t react until he was right in front of me. My hands flew up against them, but he didn’t slow down until I was pushed firmly against the wall. Pressed hard against my stomach, his butt stuck out so far my chest had breathing room while mashed against his back. This giant of a man was just leaning against me into the wall and I was utterly powerless against him.

“Like what you see, little man?” I felt more than heard Bubba chuckle. “I told ya, for what you’re doing for me, I’m willing to do whatever, whenever. And I’ve been thinkin’,” he took a deep breath and I felt a little more crushed, “Of all the things you could have done with your little science potion, you found a way to make guys bigger. Not change hair color, or eye color, or even add a couple inches to a dick. No, you wanted to make guys bigger.”

He stepped forward, turned quickly, and pinned me back to the wall with his gut. I was bear hugging this massive mound of flesh, looking up between the valley of his pecs to the man who was watching me with the full knowledge I was currently his to do with as he pleased. “Also, the fact that I’m here means you didn’t want to inject yourself. You didn’t want to make yourself bigger. You could have, but you didn’t. I’m thinking that means that what you really wanted was to see some guy just get bigger and bigger before your eyes. Measuring and weighting him each day, watching him bulk up pound by pound, asking if he needed help for sperm samples? Am I right?”

I opened my mouth…then closed it again. Was he right? I mean, eye or hair color would have been much easier, but boring. Did some part of me watching my rat grow larger and larger know what it might lead to? These thoughts buzzed around in my mind, but then Bubba did another little bump with his belly, and the answer came to my mind chasing all those thoughts away. I leaned against his belly, kissing it, licking it, and started rubbing it in wide circles.

“There ya go, boy. There ya go.” Bubba gently rocked his belly against me, “It’s ok. We all like somethin’. Ain’t nothing wrong with liking.” He lifted one hand to rub my head. “And I gotta say, I like you liking me for somethin’ that I love.”

Bubba stepped backwards, and I almost fell over. “I gotta stand over here to keep an eye on dinner, but if you wanna keep playing, I don’t mind.” He returned to the stove with that giant ass just begging for attention. He must have felt my eyes on it for he gave it a little shake from side to side. I walked up to it and started rubbing it, one hand on each cheek pushing up and down, feeling the weight of them in my hands. I felt him flex beneath my hands and I giggled a little.

“Getting awfully hot in this kitchen, boy. Maybe you wanna take off them clothes.”

My shirt was off and I fumbled with my pants. I kicked them aside and hugged Bubba from behind. I started rubbing my raging cock against his meaty ass; it was warm and hard. My oozing precum started sliming and slicking. I started rubbing it up and down. Leaning forward, I moved my mouth across his back, caressing and licking every inch I could reach. I had such an expanse to cover. Slowly, I move my mouth lower and lower, until I was kissing and licking each ass cheek, both bigger than my whole face.

“Feels good, boy. But I think what you want is on the other side.” He turned to the right, left hand still stirring a pot. I crawled to be in front of him, the hot oven sweltering the side of my body but I didn’t care. I stared up to his face, which I could barely see over this glorious mountain of flesh. I was up on my knees, hugging as much as I could reach. My mouth moved side to side, I licked and sucked in with gusto. With one hand, I reached down and started jerking off.

“That a boy. You love your big daddy, don’t cha?” Bubba had reached down with his free hand to the back of my head. He guided me to his dick, large like the rest of him and rock hard. He pushed and I took him in to the base. “Yeah. You like sucking on your big daddy’s dick.” He held my head still and started thrusting, just to the point where I couldn’t breathe. All the while, the bottom of his huge gut kept hitting my forehead. “Yeah, you like big daddy. You want big daddy to get even bigger. You’re gonna help big daddy get bigger, and bigger, and bigger!”

One hand rubbing himself all over, bubba started thrusting harder and harder. I could barely keep up. Suddenly, he moved both hands to my head and started going faster. They were both barely touching my head, as if he could barley reach around his enormous gut. The image of that in my head was enough, and I started jerking off faster as well. Soon, I heard a low growl that vibrated throughout his body, and with one last thrust, he shoved his cock down the back of my throat and held it there. I could feel it pulsating, swelling and shrinking in my mouth as I moaned and came onto my belly.

We stayed in those positions for what seemed like an hour or could have been five minutes. Then, Bubba reached down, hoisted me up under the arms and brought me up to his face for a deep passionate kiss.

“Thanks boy. Now go clean up and get ready for dinner. We have a ‘big’ day tomorrow.” He set me back down and returned to the stove.