Regan Balloons Out

[6 word request: Regan Grimes Cumflation, Inflation Explosion]

[Turns out he only needed 5 words!)

Regan closed his eyes before the readout on the scale flashed his weight at him. He knew he would be bigger--he could feel the extra weight in every step he took--but the results were going to shock him.

And they did: 20 extra pounds in two days. He stepped off the scale, noticing the way his big quads fought for space with every step, the extra width of his lats making him wider than he was used to, his thick arms resting on those lats sticking out like wings.

Regan had been an enormous man at the start of this; being big wasn’t new to him. But even in his most aggressive bulking phases, the weight always came on more gradual. Jumping from 281 to just over 300 was a major leap. He stopped by the mirror before leaving the locker room, checking out the quality of the bulk. His face was a little more full than usual, but the added size looked dense. He pulled up his shirt and ran his hands down his abs, traced the veins in his arms. This size wasn’t water and bloat; it was solid muscle.

His strut through the gym felt heavier, like he knew the earth rumbled a little with every step. People could tell, especially from the way his tank top squeezed his massive torso. After he put it on he realized it would probably have to be cut off him; no way was he getting his big arms through those holes again.

It was time for a big back day. He did some pull ups, surprised at gravity’s extra pull. Being over 300 was his new normal now, he realized. He should stop here, of course; level off at this size, diet down a little to step on stage in still mind blowing shape with more poundage than he’d ever had before. He’d dwarf guys like Antoine Vaillant and Nick Walker! But he wondered what it would like to be even heavier.

He saw Victor across the gym and gave him a head-nod. Big Victor was 7’2” tall and shaped like an MMA fighter, with long, silky black hair that fell around his wide shoulders. Vic gave Regan a thumbs up as Regan’s super-sized body dismounted from the pull-up bar. Would people see the gesture and get suspicious?

Silly thought, Regan said as he headed to the dumbbells. Why would anyone get suspicious? He’d always been friendly with Victor. No one would put together that Regan’s recent gains were all thanks to the freakishly tall powerlifter.

By the end of his lift, Regan couldn’t believe how strong he was. The weight gain wasn’t strictly cosmetic; he was adding two plates to every lift. The 150 pound dumbbells weren’t enough for bent-over rows; Regan had to do sets of 35 just to get anything out of them.

Regan had an extra swing to his body, like it took more momentum to get his wide frame moving. He actually had to turn sideways to get back in the locker room. Other gym guys gave him a heads-up; “Lookin’ good bro!”

“Fuckin swole as fuck!”

Even freakishly huge guy Craig Golias gave Regan a hard shove. “Are you even huge bro?” he said ironically. Regan flexed his torso as Craig through all of his massive weight into a shoulder-check. For the first time ever Regan stood his ground.

In the showers he tried to ignore when Victor strutted in. The big man had to stoop down to get under the shower head, soaping up his long mane of hair and rubbing suds all over his thick tatted-up body. Regan wanted to get out of there before Victor struck up conversation.

He didn’t make it. “You enjoying that newfound size, big man?” Victor’s deep voice rumbled in the otherwise empty showers.

“It’s a hell of a gain,” Regan said. “Definitely gives me the edge I’ve been looking for.”

“Big man like you,” Victor purred, strutting across the shower to stand naked, hands on hips, before Regan, looking down on the humongous pro bodybuilder with a glint in his eye. “And you’re still looking for an edge. No such thing as too big, man, right?”

“I mean, I guess there is,” Regan said, turning away from Victor’s veiny-groin--and that massive cock and balls gently swinging between his legs--”I think I’m pretty close to my cap, to be honest. I’ll win any show I enter.”

Victor put a hand on Regan and turned him around. The 300 pound bodybuilder, nude and getting manhandled by a man who was nearly a foot taller, had never felt more vulnerable. “You know that ain’t true,” Victor said. “You know you want more. You want to push the limits.”

Regan shrugged. “I mean, maybe,” he said, “but… can’t gain too much more without raising eyebrows, right?”

Victor laughed and slapped Regan on his thick deltoid. “You think you’re not raising eyebrows now you musclebound freak?”

“...I’m not musclebound…” Regan said quietly as Victor continued to laugh.

“What if I told you I had another one of those miracle shakes right out there in my bag. What if I told you I’d let you have it--almost for free. What would you say to that?”

Regan froze. He tried to force his mouth to say no, but he envisioned adding even more dense, lean muscle to his frame, blowing minds and redefining huge with 20 more pounds of muscle. He’d be a freak of nature. He’d be the center of attention for all time, even next to a towering redwood like Victor. Imagine, Regan, thought, making Craig Golias look scrawny!

He wanted, desperately, to turn the offer down. But something about what Victor was saying had caught his attention: “...what do you mean, ‘almost free’?”

Out in the locker room, towels around their waists, Victor slammed a protein shaker down on a bench. It was huge, nearly a gallon and full to the brim. Regan remembered the taste; how could he forget it? Salty but slightly metallic, all clearly organic, with a musky tang… Regan licked his lips without realizing it at first. Victor smiled.

“What do you say? Want to make these big freaks around here feel like pipsqueaks?”

Regan knew the shaker would be warm before he lifted it. He knew how viscous the liquid inside was. He should put it down, he knew, but it was right there--why shouldn’t he take it? Maybe he could drink half this time. Maybe he could take a few chugs and call it a day, spread the rest out over a year if he could. That way people would be less suspicious; it would seem more natural.

Victor’s huge hand touched the gallon shaker as Regan raised it to his mouth. Regan looked at the towering man, unable to stop his lower lip from quivering.

“You can have it for free, IF you tell me what you think it is,” Victor said. He licked his lips and bounced his eyebrows. Regan turned away. VIctor yanked the huge shaker out of his hands.

“You look me in the eye and be honest or I dump this down the drain,” Victor said, stepping toward the sinks.

Regan’s heart pounded in his ears. He had known nothing about the first shake Victor gave him; he had been able to avoid his fears about its contents by focusing on the unbelievable size boost. Now Victor wanted him to say it out loud? Were more gains even worth that?

Regan closed his eyes and shuddered. “It’s… I think it’s…” He couldn’t say it. He just couldn’t.

“Look me in the eyes when you say it, boy,” Victor said, yanking the oversized shaker from Regan’s hands. The bodybuilder reached for it as he lost contact. God, he wanted it so bad!

“It’s your cum,” Regan said, his lower lip quivering. There, he thought, I said it. He double checked to make sure they were alone. He felt his massive body unclench when Victor put the shaker back in his hand.

“Drink up, buttercup,” Victor said, patting Regan on the head. Regan grabbed it with both hands and turned it up, chugging it as fast as he could. As he guzzled more and more of the thick salty liquid he realized he hadn’t taken a breath--and that was fine. Who needed air when he was filling up with such an amazing substance? Nectar of the gods, he thought--literally, if Victor’s incredible height and huge build were to be considered far about normal humans. He wished he could open his throat, empty the contents of the big shaker into his belly even faster. Then again, he loved savoring it, letting it fill up his mouth, really chewing on it, before gulping it back.

His gut got full--he could feel his stomach starting to stretch up as the liquid fought for space in Regan’s insides--but he kept chugging. God, he would be so huge. Biggest man in the world, finally. It was all he wanted. But more than that, the liquid made him feel complete. Warm from the inside out, full to the brim, he had never been more content. There was a psychic trauma in him he wasn’t aware of until Victor’s brew relieved it, and now he worried he would never be able to go back to living without this thick milky substance filling him up ever again.

When it was gone he tongued the inside of the shaker voraciously. He tried to rip the thing in half--there was still residue inside! He could have more! He burped up some of the fluid. It spattered out of his mouth, over his shirt. He quickly slurped it back in, sucked his shirt dry until he was sure he had every drop.

“Hungry boy, aren’t you?” Victor said, crossing his arms.

Regan couldn’t respond. He needed more.

“Maybe fill it up with water in the sink, really get every last drop out of that thing.”

Regan waddled--he was so wide!--to the sink, horrified at the form that greeted him. Instead of the pure lean mass gain he was expecting, his whole body had bloated out like Victor had shoved an air hose up his ass. His tank top had split down each side, his shorts loudly tearing with each step. He looked like a muscular balloon, still clearly a bodybuilder but now with a serious layer of bloat. He didn’t want this! But he couldn’t care about that now--not while there was more of that delicious shake to drink.

He filled the shaker up with water, chugged it back, then filled it up again. The taste was gone the second time; just water. He let out a loud burp when he was done, then a deep baritone fart that echoed throughout the bathroom. Regan licked his lips, savoring the memory of the flavor, as he studied his body. He looked like Eddie Hall--massive, muscular, but with a significant layer of fat over his body. He had jowls that shook when he moved his head--which he could barely do, since his traps had blown up and his neck thickened nearly wider than his skull.

He could feel that his ass had swollen up enormously but he couldn’t turn around to see it. It felt like he was towing weight around as he turned.

“Look at you!” Victor said as he joined him at the mirror. Standing there, so wide and round, next to the unchanged Victor, Regan felt truly humiliated.

“What the hell is this? I’m like a butterball now!” Regan said, patting his distended turtle shell belly. He couldn’t even get his arms around its new width--although the thickness of those limbs had as much to do with it as the circumference of Regan’s bloated musclebelly.

“More like a buffalo,” Victor said, rubbing a thick finger down Regan’s newly chubby cheeks, then rubbing circles on Regan’s belly with his pinky. The gentle belly rub blew Regan’s mind; the chubbed-up bodybuilder’s mouth went slack as a sensual haze fell over his brain. He didn’t want Victor to stop.

Victor broke the spell over Regan with a slap on the bodybuilder’s enormous butt, loud as a thunderclap. “Enjoy all that new size, big man,” Victor said as he strutted away. “Your fans are gonna love you now!”

Regan wanted to look away from the muscular whale in the mirror but he was transfixed with his own image. A few more tears in his clothing and he would naked; how could he get home like this? How could he let anyone else see him like this?

And then, in the back of his mind, there was a smoldering urge to get more of that delicious shake…

At 3 AM Regan found himself pounding on Victor’s door, stretching the limits of his baggiest sweatpants. His bloated torso, every major muscle group bulging ludicrously, was uncovered. Big Vic was taller than his own doorways; he stooped in the entrance and looked down at Regan who rubbed his hands gently on his roidgutted abdomen, his lower lip quivering (making his chubby cheeks jiggle).

“And what, might I ask, do you want?” Victor said.

Regan whimpered and forced his way in. Victor just chuckled as Regan’s thickened sides got stuck in the door. He groaned as he squeezed through. Thankfully the living room was huge and spacious with high ceilings and barely any furniture.

“I want more,” Regan sobbed. “Please, more,” he moaned.

“What if I told you that you can’t take much more?” Victor said. “You’re already a big old muscle-blimp. You really want to add some poundage to that frame?”

Regan sighed loudly. “I don’t care. I just need more.”

Victor chuckled, walking into the next room. Regan shifted uncomfortably in place. Would Victor tease him, he wondered? Or would he take pity on Regan and just give the overgrown bodybuilder what he desperately needed?

Victor wheeled a keg into the room.

“See, the thing is, it’s incredibly powerful and VERY addictive. If you could hold off for a few days, all that chub and extra size would just evaporate off your form.” As Victor delivered this information, he dangled the black keg nozzle in front of Regan, swinging it back and forth like a hypnotist’s watch. Regan’s eyes locked on it with laser focus. “If you have more, you may blow up past the point of no return--or worse. But if you’re that weak-willed, if you can’t live without it…”

“Please give me more,” Regan said, his hands trembling. He was lapping at the air as if the nozzle was in his mouth already.

“Say pretty please,” Victor taunted.

“Pretty please!” Regan did as he was told.

“Now tell me you don’t care what happens to you. You just want to be full of this stuff no matter what.”

Regan couldn’t resist; he repeated the words exactly. Victor gave the keg a few pumps and flipped up the nozzle on the keg, shoving it right in Regan’s mouth. He just suckled and swallowed, so grateful to taste it again.

After a few minutes, he realized he was getting full, but he didn’t want to stop. Even as his sweatpants split apart, as his taint suddenly popped out and his body became more of a sphere, Regan continued to gulp greedily.

“How’s my big muscle balloon doing?” Victor said as Regan’s body swelled bigger. Regan was now looking Victor in the eyes; his body had grown so big that he was nearly as tall as Victor now. His cheeks were blown out like he had the mumps. His arms and legs were slowly getting swallowed by the increasing bulk. Victor stroked his own cock through his boxers as Regan grew bigger and bigger. Within minutes the bodybuilder was just a massive tan sphere, his head, hands and feet poking out of its turgid surface.

Regan whimpered and groaned and Victor knew what that meant. “Keg’s tapped, isn’t it you big fucking balloon?” he growled. He walked around the giant globe of a man, now too big to get out of his living room. He gave Regan a gentle shove, and the perfectly round man rolled easily. Regan yelped as he rolled over his own cock, now a little nub puckered into the side of his solid orb of a body. Victor chuckled as he rolled Regan back and forth, watching the bodybuilder’s fingers and toes curl and wiggle. Still, Regan’s mouth smacked at the air. “Still hungry, ain’tcha?” Victor chuckled.

Regan was nearly twelve feet in diameter now. Victor had to roll him around to get the bodybuilder’s thirsty face low enough to reach. “You want to drink straight from the source?” Victor purred, wagging his semi-hard cock. Regan’s eyes lit up. “You may not make it. You ready to push your body to its limits?”

At this point Regan’s mind was mush, barely capable of thinking any thoughts that didn’t involve Victor’s powerful blend. Victor shoved his dick in and braced his hands against the round flesh, thrusting in and out. Regan deep-throated the thing. Had it not been attached, the inflated bodybuilder would have swallowed it whole.

“That’s it,” Victor moaned as he pressed his face against the warm tight surface of the human sphere before him. “Almost there…”

When he shot, Regan sucked as hard as he could. The body suddenly bulged out on all sides, knocking Victor down and sliding him across the floor as it expanded. In seconds, the growing blob had reached the ceilings and walls. He heard windows shatter and worried he had inflated the man so much he would destroy his home…

POP!

A cascade of hot, sticky cum doused Victor, who moaned as wave after waved poured over him. He looked like a glazed donut as he stood and wiped the cum away from his eyes.

“I always do get carried away,” he said, sloshing through the pool of cum, fishing around with his fingers. When he found Regan--now just an emptied out pile of wrinkly skin--he held up the bodybuilder and smiled. Regan was still there, of course, his eyes darting around wildly from his deflated head, his tongue still slurping in the cum. “Man, we’re going to need to get you patched up,” he said, “so you can hoover up all this mess…”