Meat Obeys Its Master (Part 1)

[muscle theft, but the victim retains control of the muscle]

Massive Kraig Feldspar stomped into Global Gym with his massive chest held high, his 300 rock-solid pounds nearly making the earth shake. He whipped off his sunglasses with a flourish and bounced his pecs–his calling card. He tossed his gym bag aside. Ronnie, who worked behind the front desk, ran to fetch it.

“I’ll bring this to the locker room for you Mr. Feldspar,” Ronnie said with a look of sycophantic glee. Kraig didn’t even acknowledge him.

“Big photo shoot today?” asked Bruce, the elderly janitor. Kraig gave him a thumbs up as he strutted past him, beefy shoulders thrown back proudly.

“Big photo shoot,” Kraig said. He marched over to the bench press where a ponytailed man wearing a sweatband did half-reps with a 5-pound saucer on each end of the bar. “How many more sets you got?” Kraig asked.

“Three or four,” the man said, but Kraig grabbed the bar and tilted it to the side. The little weights slid right off.

“What’s that? You’re all done?” Kraig asked, poking the skinny little guy in the chest with a thick finger. “Thanks, pal. Now beat it.”

“I’ll complain to the manager!” the smaller man squeaked. Kraig ignored him as he loaded three plates on each side of the bar.

After busting out three sets of 20, he stood up, hitting a few poses while he admired himself in the mirror. Lars, the only man in the gym remotely comparable to the massive Kraig, crossed his arms and stood behind Kraig. He cleared his throat, running a gloved hand over his bald head. Kraig didn’t react.

“315 for bench? Fucking baby weight,” Lars instigated.

Kraig shrugged. “Photo shoot today. Just going for a pump. How about challenging me on a date when you’re fucking relevant, small fry?” He turned and chest bumped Lars forcefully. The two massive men’s bodies made a loud smack as their sweaty muscles squashed together. Lars stumbled backwards.

“I oughta shove my foot so far up your ass…”

“How about shoving a NEEDLE in YOURS,” Kraig said as he peeled off his sweaty tank top, tossing it in Lars’ direction. The bald man swatted it aside. “Looks like you could use a little extra performance enhancement, scrawny.” Nearby gymgoers whispered about the absurdity of anyone being big enough to call the elephantine Lars “scrawny.”

In the locker room, Kraig whipped out his fat cock and drained his bladder. Then he held up an arm and took a sniff. “Fucking REEK,” he said with a grin, proud of the manly stink his testosterone drenched muscles put out. Ronnie had stuffed his gym bag in his locker–#37, the one new gym members were warned was reserved for Kraig himself. Kraig fished out his deodorant, smeared some blue gel into his deep muscle pits, then beat his fist against his enormous chest. “Fuck yeah,” he growled. A little water in his curly blonde hair and he was ready to go. A glance at his watch revealed that the photographer would be showing up in twenty minutes–just enough time to oil his superhuman physique to look flawless on camera.

He barely noticed when one of the bathroom stalls swung open and the man with the ponytail emerged, his face squeezed into a grimace.

“I suppose you think you can just push people around because you’re bigger than they are?” he squeaked as he marched up to Kraig with a confidence few men dared to flash before the behemoth.

Kraig shrugged. “Yeah, I do,” he remarked, disregarding the little guy so he could continue preening.

“So what, a bunch of steroids and lucky genetics make you better? That what you think?” the pest said, poking Kraig in his wide back. Kraig paused and turned toward him.

“What’s your name, little fella?” Kraig said, emphasizing the word “little.”

“It’s Perry,” he responded, standing up to his full height, which put him at eye-level with Kraig’s nipples.

“Well, nice to meet you, NOBODY,” Kraig said. “I’ll forget you even exist in about five minutes.”

“Oh, I don’t think you will,” Perry said, rubbing his hands together. “I’m guessing you put on my special deodorant.”

Kraig paused, confused. “YOUR deodorant?” He sniffed his pits. Smelled like his usual brand.

“I’m guessing you’ve absorbed enough into your bloodstream,” Perry said. “Watch and learn! Your muscles are no match for my brains!”

Kraig was ready to disregard Perry’s dramatic outbursts, but he felt a tingling under his arms. He raised them to itch at the persistent sensation. In the mirror, his swollen arms began to deflate.

Kraig’s eyes went wide. He was silent as his huge body started to collapse in on itself, his muscles ebbing away as his shorts slid down his narrowing legs. “Holy shit…” Kraig said. In less than a minute, his 300 pound physique had dwindled down to that of a scrawny pipsqueak, barely 100 pounds. The pink trunks he’d worn beneath his shorts hung limply, only held up by his considerable bulge, which hadn’t shrunk at all despite the rest of him dwindling down to nearly nothing.

“Who’s the ‘little fella’ now?” Perry said. Kraig gasped as he realized Perry was an inch taller than he was!

A moment later, Perry was several inches taller. He was rising up and away, his limbs lengthening as they inflated with all of Kraig’s lost size. Perry bounced his pecs the moment they were big enough, continuing to do so as his bulky muscles tripled, then quadrupled. His tank top burst as his body grew out of it, his skinny joggers shredding as his legs blossomed with ludicrously overdeveloped muscles.

Kraig shivered as Perry’s much taller form cast a heavy shadow over him. He backed away, suddenly aware of the massive shift in power. Perry could stomp him flat with ease now! The new giant, who seemed as big as a truck to little Kraig, stood between him and the door. He wondered if his slim body would be quick enough to outmaneuver the muscleblimp, but a Perry clumsily threw his weight in Kraig’s direction, knocking the runt flat on his back with ease.

“I suggest you stay down,” Perry said, pointing a thick finger in Kraig’s direction. The little man had no idea how it was possible–special deodorant? Was this guy for real?--but he knew that one wrong move would be the end of him. “Damn… didn’t steal your dick. That’s a problem.” Perry slapped at his dick, average-sized (but now rock-hard, now that the rest of him was gargantuan). Between his moose-thick thighs, it looked small and pathetic.

Kraig slowly rose to his feet. He had to play this cool. “O-okay, now… let’s be reasonable. You want to borrow my muscles for awhile? Cool! Take them for a spin, for a day maybe, then bring them back? Blow me back up to big size again?”

Perry laughed, making his mammoth pecs bounce, then pulled his arms up to flex them. They had to be 24 inches around each, bigger than Kraig’s head now. “Borrow? You KIDDING me? This meat is MINE! I have to be honest, I was gonna steal that bald guy’s size, but after you were a dick to me… damn, this feels so much better. I get to be huge AND you get to learn a lesson about being puny!” He gave Kraig a poke in the chest. It was a casual gesture to Perry, but it hit Kraig like a battering ram, knocking him breathless and off his feet.

The locker room door opened and Lars strutted in, his singlet soaked from his recent workout. Kraig opened his mouth to ask for help, but then he realized that Lars would be the last person to help him. He might even join in on the abuse! His face went red as Lars’ spandex-clad bulge bounced in front of him at eye level. Lars noticed Perry, now a man whose sized warranted Lars’ attention, and gave him a fist-bump. Perry winked at Kraig, who seethed silently as he watched it all happen.

“Looking HUGE bro,” Lars said as he strutted to the urinal.

“Thanks, guy,” Perry said, dropping his voice half an octave as he tried to perform the persona of a man so big he had to walk sideways through doors. Perry stomped past Kraig to his locker, fishing out some shorts and a stringer tank. They fit perfectly.

Lars shook off his cock, then took his time washing his hands. Perry, clearly testing out his confidence with his new body, approached the sink next to Lars and started washing his hands. The two massive men caught each other’s attention and turned to face each other, their hands still wet.

Lars advanced on Perry, making his pecs bounce. Perry matched the move, growling back. (Although he loathed both men, Kraig had to admit Perry was notably bigger than Lars.) Lars hit a lat spread, his back seeming to swell an extra six inches on each side. Perry struggled to match the pose. After failing for several seconds, he finally stomped a huge quad down and hit a sloppy most muscular. Lars did the same. The two giants faced off, their huge bodies only inches from each other.

Kraig watched, feeling absolutely puny in the presence of such enormous men, but deeply he wished they would slam into each other. Suddenly Perry lurched forward, his big pecs slapping against Lars’, knocking the bald titan back.

“The fuck?” Lars said, advancing and giving Perry a shove. While Perry was certainly bigger, he seemed confused as to why he’d lunged at Lars. He was easily knocked backward against the sink.

“I-I… I’m sorry, I…” Perry’s composure, along with his deep tone, went away. “I don’t know why I did that! I thought we were just having fun!”

Lars’ sneered back, then eyed up the nude giant before walking away with a snort. “Watch your back, big man,” Lars said, stepping over Kraig as if he didn’t even see him.

“That was fucked,” Kraig said softly once they were alone again. “Why did you do that?”

“I-I dunno…” Perry stammered. “My muscle just twitched, and…”

Kraig imagined Perry raising his arms. SUddenly, the muscleman threw his arms up.

“What’s going on?!” Perry said, his shaky voice sounding absurd coming from a man of his immense size.

“Wait a minute…” Kraig said. “Bounce your pecs.” Perry did as he was told. “Hit a lat spread but this time do it RIGHT!” Perry’s body seemed to be acting against his wishes, hitting a perfect lat spread. Kraig imagined Perry pretending to jump rope and he did so, his huge pecs and little dick bouncing as he whimpered and tried to stop.

“I guess all my muscles still respond to their master!” Kraig said, mentally commanding Perry to freeze into a relaxed pose. Kraig chuckled as Perry tried, unsuccessfully, to move. Kraig made him hold out his hands. “Looks like you’re just a towel rack now,” Kraig said, hanging the clothes he’d just shrunken out of on Perry’s locked physique.

“Okay, do a handstand now,” Kraig ordered. Perry did exactly that. His ample pecs hung over his face, pressing up against his chin. “Ha! Yeah, that happens when I go upside down too. Offseason chest is just too damned big! You gotta learn how to deal with my titties if you’re going to wear MY size, big guy.”

Kraig turned Perry right-side-up again, then had a seat while he made the big man open up lockers, looking for an outfit suitable for Kraig’s new size.

“Please, okay? If you quit it, I’ll… I’ll give you some size back!” Perry begged as his body moved out of his control.

“SOME?” Kraig said. “Bitch, when I’m ready, you’re going to give it ALL back. But I’m going to have some fun first. Gotta teach you a lesson. And I may have fun being this small if I’ve got a big gorilla who will do whatever I say!”

When Kraig was dressed, he made Perry lift him up, putting his scrawny body on Perry’s massive traps. “Looks like you’re gonna be my primary transport from now on. Now… let’s get out there and see what this body of yours can do!”

“No! Please!” Perry begged, but Kraig mentally ordered the muscles in his cheeks to squeeze together. Perry whimpered through pursed lips, but could do nothing else as he lumbered into the gym with Kraig on his shoulder.