Mass Battery Gronk

[6 word request: Teen Uses Gronk As Size Battery]

[muscle drain, size swap]

Gronk, a little buzzed, flashed his smile to the paparazzi snapping pics of him in his tuxedo. He slid sideways into the limo flexing his arms; despite the fact that he was fully clothed, the well-tailored tux showed off every bit of his massive brawn.

“Where we going big guy?” Gronk’s limo-driver Liam asked.

“After-party bro! Edelman’s at some private party getting wild with some fitness models. He’s gonna text me the address in a second.” The neck of a ketel one bottle poked out of a bucket of ice. Gronk slugged back some vodka, then snapped open a red bull and squeezed it into his mouth. “Fuck yeah!” he said, pounding on his chest.

“Man, you’re killing retirement!” Liam chuckled.

“You know it, bro!” Gronk roared. “I’m in the best shape of my life, I have more money than I know what to do with, and no fucking responsibilities!”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. “Better be Edelman!” he said, yanking out his phone. Gronk’s elation dissolved instantly as he read the text:

“Hey bro, need to borrow just a little. That cool?”

“Fuck,” Gronk spat. His face fell. Liam noticed.

“Holy shit, I’ve never seen a guy’s mindset plummet that fast, and that obviously, before,” Liam said, adjusting the rear-view mirror to get a better look at his boss. “Everything cool? Who dide?”

Gronk ignored Liam, angrily tapping a response with his big thumbs: “Bad time, Cyrus. Wut do U need it 4?”

He stared at his phone, waiting for a response; even some bouncing ellipses would have been better. Instead, he felt a warmth that started from his groin and spread throughout his body. He let out a soft moan as the tension in his body-hugging tuxedo went slack. He felt himself sinking into the loosening clothing, patting desperately at his body as he found himself swimming in an ill-fitting suit that had clung to his massive body like paint just seconds before.

“Fuck,” Gronk said as he examined he shifted around in his baggy tux. “Fuck, Liam, take me back to my hotel.”

“You sure?” Liam said.

Gronk tapped the button to raise the divider, but he saw Liam’s quizzical expression as the driver tried to assess what was different about his passenger.

“You okay big man? You don’t look okay.”

Gronk sank low in his seat as he tapped back an angry response: “CYRUS! I SAID NOW ISN’T A GOOD TIME! WTF”

Gronk entered his hotel from the back entrance to avoid any photographers catching him looking like a kid in his dad’s clothes. As he hustled to the elevator, his shoes flopped around on feet that weren’t quite big enough to fill them. He tripped on the cuffs of his pants. In the elevator, he tried to remember exactly how tall he’d been the last time he was in it. “Pretty sure the occupancy limit sign was at my eyeline before,” he recalled as he noticed it was just above his head now.

Gronk stripped out of his clothes as soon as he was safely in his room. With his pants down, his boxer-briefs slid down his legs. He examined his naked body in the mirror; he was still built and muscular, but the mass had been drained from him. “For fuck’s sake,” he said, noticing that even his neck looked narrower. He examined his deflated pecs, lamented at his thinned-out legs and flexed his arms, disappointed as they failed to inflate to the size he was accustomed to seeing.

“Goddamn it, Cyrus!” Gronk shouted into the phone when the punk finally picked up. “You said you’d just take a few pounds here and there to give you a boost for football. Why the hell did you have to take so much?”

“I didn’t take that much!” slurred the college-aged guy on the other end. “Bro, seriously, these guys started shit at my frat and I just needed to pump up a little bit…”

Gronk hopped on the scale in his bathroom: 245 pounds. “Bro, you sucked 30 pounds out of me! That’s not how the deal works!”

“Dude, I told you, I needed it,” Cyrus said. Gronk heard the gurgling sound of a water bong on the other end.

“Damnit, bro, are you getting fucked up? Starting fights with my mass? Give it back!”

Cyrus coughed, giggled, then broke into a coughing fit.

“This isn’t fucking funny!” Gronk said. “You’re not supposed to be able to steal from me without my permission!”

Gronk heard Cyrus gulp something to soothe his coughing. “For real, bro? Mom told me the spell’s degrading a little bit. The rules are getting squirrelier. She told me she told you about that!”

Gronk vaguely remembered Cyrus’ mom calling him a few weeks before. Now that he remembered it, he realized he had slung dirty talk at her before she had mentioned why she was calling. The two had gotten into some hot and heavy phone sex and he passed out after he blew a massive load all over his sheets. He woke up the next morning drooling on his phone and never followed up. Damn, that bitch is hot as fuck, Gronk recalled.

“Yeah, well, she never got in touch with me!” Gronk lied. “The fuck you mean, ‘spell’s degrading’?”

“Look, Gronk, I don’t like the way you’re chatting with me,” Cyrus said, his tone growing somber. “I get that you’re big tough badass to everyone else, but c’mon! It’s Cyrus! I’m the 19 year old whose mom you fuck from time to time.”

“Don’t forget,” Gronk added, “the 19 year old whose mom’s a real-deal witch!”

“That too,” Cyrus said. “She says I may one day have the gift too. Maybe that’s why the spell’s doing this? In any case, I think you’d better change your tone unless you want…”

Gronk watched his dick suddenly shoot up on its own, from soft to rock hard in an instant. His body heat rose until his skin was slick with salty sweat. He looked down in horror as his body slowly shriveled, his massive muscles dwindling. He patted his body as if he could retain his size, but all he could do was watch as the body he had spent so long building up grew scrawnier with every moment.

“For fuck’s sake!” Gronk said, his voice suddenly a half-octave higher than normal. The towel rack slowly crept up, as did the counter and the handle to the door. He was getting shorter too!

“See how I can suck out your size, too?” Cyrus said in a deeper voice than he ever had before. “Fuck, dude, I’m about 6’5” now! How tall are you?”

Gronk clenched little fists, fuming but unwilling to respond.

“Anyway, maybe I’ll give you some back tomorrow. There’s this chick who is just CRAZY for size... Gonna go bang her out a few hundred times and then I’ll hit you up. Thanks bro!”

The phone went dead. Gronk called back immediately but got Cyrus’ voicemail instantly: “I’m busy crushing it. Leave one.”

Frustrated, Gronk headed for the door, shocked at how many steps it took on these new scrawny little legs to cross the room. He would need clothes, of course, but he held up the boxer briefs he’d been wearing earlier in the evening; held with the band at his waist, they hung down to his knees.

“For fuck’s sake, I got like a foot and a half shorter!” he said in his high-pitched voice. He was infuriated by the fact that the bed came up to his mid-thigh. As he paced around the room, marveling at how light he felt (like a stiff breeze would blow him off his feet), he tested out his newly reduced arms by grabbing the chair. An hour before, he could have curled it with no problem, but now his whole body shook and he could only get two of its legs off the ground.

“Hey Celeste!” Gronk texted Cyrus’ mom. He didn’t want to speak to her on the phone with his shrimpy little voice. “You up?”

His heart leapt when he saw the bouncing ellipsis signifying a response, but he didn’t wait for a reply: “Look, something’s up with that spell you cast on me and Cyrus. Any way to break it or reverse it or anything?

“What happened?” she texted back. Gronk wondered if she had hoped for a little late night dirty talk and was frustrated to have to discuss her son instead.

“Nothing really, just wondering if there’s a way I can hold onto my bulk permenently.”

“Show me you,” Celeste texted. Gronk considered shooting back a saved selfie from earlier in the evening, but before he could grab his phone it levitated out of his hand, spun around, and clicked-and-flashed on its own.

“Goddamn witchcraft!” Gronk said. His whole skinny, naked body burned red as he looked at the humiliating photo. He looked like a dorky accountant; if he saw a guy his size in a gym locker room, he would definitely consider a little light bullying.

The phone rang. Gronk answered it but hesitated to speak.

“Wow,” Celeste said. “He really did a number on you.”

“Damned right he did!” he spoke without thinking. He almost spiked his phone into the ground when he heard Celeste giggle.

“Damn! That voice really matches that little body!” she said when she caught her breath. “Hey, sorry, sorry. Obviously I want you to gain all your size back, Rob. You’re no used to me looking like that!”

He reached down and grabbed his little nub of a cock--which once had been a monster that Celeste had begged for--and frowned. “I mean, yeah, right? Fix this shit!”

Celeste sighed. “Bad news is, Cyrus is being a cocky little shit. He hasn’t spoken to me, and put up some mystical barriers so I can’t scry his location anymore.”

Fucking witches, Gronk fumed.

“And even though I cast the spell, it’s between the two of you, so I can’t really do anything about it. I’m sorry, you agreed to it, so even though it’s going a little wonky, you’ve got to ride it out until it runs out of power.”

Gronk’s eyes went wide. “So, think of something else then! Make me a potion that makes me… I dunno… quadruple in size! Make me an ogre or a giant or something… you’re a fucking WITCH!”

“I could, but as soon as Cyrus found out he could just suck all that size out of you,” Celeste said. “Honestly, it’s best if you just wait for him to come around. I bet when he wakes up in the morning he’ll feel sorry about it and give it all back. And honestly that spell should burn out in a month or so, max.”

A text came in from Edelman: “BRO WHERE ARE YOU? I’m drowning in chicks out here!”

“And something you should remember,” Celeste added, “is… the spell makes working out more effective for you. Didn’t you ever notice you were able to rebuild the size Cyrus took from you really easily? And if the spell’s breaking down, I bet one day in the gym will have the effective of a dozen… or more.”

Gronk tried to work all this out, his jaw moving slowly but no sound coming out.

“So basically start doing some push ups and call me when you’re big again.”

*

Gronk was doing lunges across the room when he heard a knock on his door. It was his tenth time lunging the perimeter of the room and his legs were nearly as thick as they were in college. Finally he had gotten big enough to wear some clothes, although his shorts were stilll a little baggy. To maintain his intensity, he walked to the door on his hands, doing a vertical pushup every couple of feet. He was happy to see the peephole just below his eyeline, happier still to look down and see his six-pack had returned and his shoulders were filling out again. Edelman stood outside looking dazed. Gronk could smell Julian’s booze-and-weed stink even through the door.

“Get in,” Gronk said, peering furtively into the hallway looking for anyone with a camera. He slammed the door shut and started doing air squats.

“What the fuck?” Edelman said. “Where were you last night?” He eyed Gronk up and down. “Did you… lose some weight, buddy?”

Without breaking the cadence of his reps, Gronk explained: “So I fucked this lady and turns out she has magic powers, and I made a deal with her son that he could use some of my size since I was retiring and everything, but he’s taking it without my permission now but the magic makes me get way huger from working out so I’ve just got to keep moving until I’m full size again.”

While Edelman took a moment to process, Gronk dropped down to do pushups. He ordered Edelman to sit on his back while he did so.

“Fuck, he can’t steal size from me too, can he?” Edelman asked.

“No,” Gronk grunted, “not like there’s a lot of size there to be stolen.”

“I mean, what about my ass?” Edelman said, grabbing a handful of his glute as he bobbed up and down on his grunting former teammate. “And what if he can steal, like, good looks? Make me look like a troll while he gets to be all pretty and shit.”

With every push up, Gronk’s grunts got a little bit deeper.

“Fuck,” he said as he shifted to one-handed pushups. “I think I’m almost there…”

“Good, because I think I’m gonna boot if I have to sit on you any longer.” Edelman hopped off Gronk’s back and started fishing through the hotel mini fridge while Gronk rose to his feet, happily taken stock of every inch on his full-sized body once again.

“Look, dude, I’ve got all my muscle back!” He flexed and growled. “Fuck! This is perfect. Any of those sluts from last night still kicking around?”

A loud buzzing came from Gronk’s bed. He rifled through the tangled sheets until he found his phone. “Hey, it’s that kid! The size-sucker!”

Edelman sipped a small bottle of apple puckers and winced at the sharp, syrupy liqueur. “You gonna tell him your big again?”

Gronk shook his head. “I mean… if he knows I have size to steal, he’s just gonna take it!” He cleared his throat and answered the phone, doing his best to affect the high-pitched tone he’d had in his scrawny form. “H-hello?”

“Gronk?” Cyrus said in a deep, gravelly voice. “Good god, man… how are you? You okay? Did anyone see you last night? I totally blacked out last night…”

Gronk looked at Edelman for help. The wide receiver just shrugged. “Dude, you made me fucking tiny!” he said. “I can’t even pick up my wallet I’m so fucking weak! I’m afraid to leave my hotel room!” Edelman slapped his hand over his smirk.

“Gronk, I’m so fucking sorry,” Cyrus said… “Hang on. Let me give it all back…”

Gronk’s body started to inflate. He filled his gym shorts to their capacity before bursting through them, his big cock flopping free. He put up his hands as the ceiling got closer, grateful when his height stabilized just after he bumped his head. As he stooped to fit in the room, his limbs blew up. Every time he flexed his arms, his biceps rose to a new mountainous peak. He stomped a foot down heavily and made the room shake.

Edelman stared up at his massive buddy, his eyes wide. Every muscle on Gronk’s rock hard, athletic physique had inflated. As his form expanded, so had the density of the muscles filling it. Every inch of him rippled now, freakishly huge and covered in thick veins. Gronk had always been muscular, but now he was built like a bodybuilder. He made the big blimps of meat on his chest bounce, sticking out his tongue at shocked little Edelman.

“We good now, Gronk? Gee, bro, I hope you’re not mad,” Cyrus said, his voice normal again.

“Naw, we’re good, buddy,” Gronk said in a voice that sounded like the low rumble of an engine. “No harm, no foul. Take care, pal.”

He tried to end the call with his sausage of a finger but it was too thick. Instead, he hurled it at the wall where it shattered. With a huge grin, he put his fists on his hips and thrust out his chest. “I can’t see past these fucking pecs,” Gronk growled.

“Dude, look at your fucking traps! You look like you’re wearing pads!” Edelman said.

Gronk smiled as he flexed his thick neck, relishing in Edelman’s admiration of his size. “I’m bigger than any lineman in the NFL now…” he said, running his hand over his veiny 8-pack. “But I look like Thor ate the Hulk…”

“I can smell you from here!” said Edelman, who was a good 6 feet away. “You smell like… a jockstrap…”

The thickness of Gronk’s quads necessitated a sumo stance. He flexed his back and marveled at what felt like four solid feet of muscle flexing. He reached out with one massive hand and snatched Edelman from the ground, curling him easily. “Check it out, lightweight,” Gronk said. “You’re lighter than my warm-up weight. What am I, 8 feet tall?”

Edelman’s eyes were wide as he hung like a rag doll in Gronk’s powerful grip. “So what’s the plan now?”

Gronk smiled. “Now, I lay low until this spell is all over… and then I come out of retirement. The NFL has never seen anything like me…”

“No, I mean, for today?” Edelman said. “Remember those late nights on the road? You in the mood to fuck around?”

Gronk tossed Edelman onto the bed. “Not sure if the bed is going to hold all this muscle,” Gronk growled, “so we’ll have to figure out logistics, but… let’s see what we can do.”