Man of (Swollen) Steel

[6 Word "You Call It" Request: Henry Cavill Becomes Tiny Swollen Superman]

[Muscle growth, Muscle immobilization, shrinking]

Henry Cavill’s manager, Rick, called on his way to the gym. Henry’s trainer, Eduardo, answered the phone.

“Big Eddie!” Rick said in a saccharine tone. “Tell me you’ve got good news. How’s the man of steel?”

The other end of the phone was silent for a moment before Eduardo spoke in a hushed tone, “It’s fine. We’ve been through the cycle three times so far and… I mean, I think it’s going well.”

Rick tapped on the A/C and took a deep breath of the cooled air. “You think? How much am I fucking paying you?”

“That’s good, get it big man!” Eduardo yelled away from the phone, presumably to Henry. Then back in his lowered whisper, “I mean we’ve been through the cycle three times. He’s not noticing that anything’s up. He’s hitting his training as hard every time we go through it.”

“How’s that trigger phrase working?” Rick said as he fished a bottle of pills from his pocket and popped one in his mouth.

“Perfectly. It’s spooky,” Eduardo said. “But I really can’t say I feel comfortable about--”

“Not paying you to think, musclehead,” Rick said. “Paying you to pump my client full of the ‘supplements’ we put a lot of money and effort into getting. Get the job done, juicemonkey. Got it?”

To the silence that followed, Rick barked, “I asked if you fucking got it, you fucking shaved ape. DO. YOU. GOT. IT.”

“Yes, I do. I’ll keep him going until you get here.”

Rick hung up without saying goodbye. He needed to stop for a couple of drinks before he checked in on Henry’s progress.

*

The parking lot at Metal Mill was empty because Rick had the whole gym rented out when it was Henry’s time to lift. He parked right next to the building and walked confidently in the front door. A keycard swipe gave him access to the high-tech training facility.

Henry Cavill was flipping a tire taller than he was when Rick walked in. He gave a smile and a nod to his client, who didn’t even glare back (Henry never broke focus while he was training) and headed over to Eduardo, who stood off to the side with a clipboard in his hand.

“Your job’s easy as hell,” Rick said. “What do you do, stand over here and clap while he does all the work?”

The big latino bodybuilder crossed his arms and returned a stern look. “He’s started noticing. Every time through. How could he not? Look at him.”

Henry had moved on to clean and pressing a heavily loaded barbell on the ground. Rick hadn’t really looked at first, but the star definitely looked thicker. “Damn. Looks like you shoved an air hose in his ass. He’s fucking balloning out!” Rick said, chomping his gum with a wide grin.

Eduardo leaned in to talk quietly again. “Look how short he is! He’s lost four whole inches! He used to be a few inches taller than me and now he looks up to me. But he never notices until he gets over here and stands near me.”

Henry finished his workout and walked away, soaked in sweat. His gait had a slight waddle to it, both from his exhaustion and the fact that his legs were each about three inches thicker in diameter. He seemed to be examining his body, flexing the unfamiliar new bulk on his body, as he slowly approached his manager and trainer.

“You switching up the weights here?” Henry said. “The tire seemed bigger today. Not heavier though. I feel strong as hell.”

When he approached the two other men, his eyes went wide. Rick was used to feeling mildly emasculated by his tall, built client, but Henry looked like someone had squashed him down. Henry’s eyes went wide as he realized his eyeline met Rick’s neck.

“What the fuck?” he said. He looked down. “You wearing lifts or something?”

Rick bit down on his gum and shot Henry a shit-eating grin. “Maybe you’re just not walking as tall as usual, big guy.”

Henry looked down at his bulky body, then up at the two men he usually towered over. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Henry, it’s almost showtime, cowboy,” Eduardo said. Henry’s gaze went blank and he stood at attention.

Rick snapped in front of the hunky actor’s face but Henry didn’t even flinch. He poked Henry’s chiseled face and gave his meatier pecs a shove. “Jesus. Look at his chest. Looks like he has tits now.” He reached down and grabbed the solid chest meat and grabbed a handful, then lifted it and let it fall. “Looks great. He’ll be looking like a steak-chomping neanderthal like you in no time.” He gave Eduardo a slap and laughed in the big man’s face. Eduardo frowned back.

“What are you waiting for?” Rick said as he walked a circle around Henry’s frozen form. “Give him his next shot. I don’t have all day. I have to have him in the shape we discussed by tomorrow.” Eduardo walked away, shoulders slumped, as Rick leaned in to examine Henry’s lifeless eyes. He wondered if there was a business opportunity: rent a living Superman statue.

Eduardo returned with a small kit. He produced one of two vials of a bright red liquid and loaded up a syringe. “We’re pushing this too fast,” Eduardo said as he pulled down Henry’s shorts to reveal his massively inflated backside.

“Jesus,” Rick said as he examined the swollen glute muscle. “We can rest drinks on that thing! Pretty soon you won’t be able to get his shorts off over them.” He imagined ordering Henry to tear his own shorts off. With the right trigger word, the hypnotized star would do whatever he wanted.

“The height loss will only amplify if we keep going at this rate,” Eduardo explained, slowly swabbed the injection site. “He’s just going to get shorter and shorter and thicker and thicker.”

Rick eyed the kit as Eduardo prepared to stick Henry with the needle. “Until when, though? Like, he can only get so short. He’s going to start shrinking all over at some point, right? Or is he going to end up, like, a thick pizza-looking thing?”

Eduardo stuck Henry, then plunged the needle. “If we stretched this out over six months or a year, we could add massive amounts of mass without losing any size. But since we’re rushing things, his mass is compressing into smaller and smaller heights. Eventually, if we kept this up, his entire bodysize will reduce proportionately to compensate. But we’re not going to let it get to that point, are we?” He removed the syringe, swabbed Henry’s glute, then patted his client on his muscular ass and gestured to the open expanse of the gym. “Reset, cowboy. Back to position 1. And go!”

Henry blinked, nodded, and walked robotically to a set of ropes on the other side of the gym floor. He squatted down, frozen in place for a moment, as Eduardo stood up.

“What happens if we jam him with, say, a whole bottle full?” Rick said as he jammed a full syringe into Eduardo’s neck and squeezed. The big trainer shoved Rick back and yanked out the needle. He stared at the empty thing with a look of horror on his face while Rick snickered from the floor.

“Are you fucking insane?” he said. “Have you lost your mind?”

“See, here’s the thing,” Rick said as he stood. Eduardo had started to convulse, mouthing the word “help” as his muscles started bouncing and flexing on their own. “See, we were going to get big Henry over there beefed up for Witcher and some Superman stuff, but you couldn’t deliver a realistic timetable. I need him massive in one month or these deals are off, and you can’t seem to help with that despite your black market sci-fi steroid shit.”

Eduardo fell to his knees. His muscles swelled like balloons until tiny tears started along the seams of his clothes, then all of his body reduced in size by a third. Then his muscles blew up more, than his body shrank more. Each time he became a more cartoonishly muscular man, then shrank into the clothes his massive bulk had threatened to burst through moments before.

“So I’m making a new deal. And now that I know you’re not willing to cooperate, I’ve got to get you out of the way somehow, don’t I?” Rick stood over the pile of clothes as Eduardo’s shocked face shrank into them. The lump underneath the Under Armour spandex swelled larger, then shrank, then blew up more, then shrank again.

Rick chuckled as he watched Henry going at his workout aggressively. He looked like he’d put on another ten pounds since the last injection--and he looked even shorter than before.

Eduardo’s clothes seemed totally empty now, and Rick wondered if the meathead trainer had shrunk away to nothing. He yanked up the shirt and gingerly pawed through the shorts to find a nearly inhuman flesh-colored blob. On closer inspection, he could see the vague shape of some human musculature--pecs, abs, maybe some legs and arms--but blown up nearly beyond recognition. The result was a little blob about one inch in diameter with hands, feet, a head and--Rick noted with delight--a cock sticking out of the nearly spherical pile of muscles. He had to lean in close to see Eduardo’s shocked face as his eyes darted around in a panic. He was shouting something but he was far too small to be heard. Rick took a finger and rolled the little marble of muscle around on the floor, then regarded his movie star client, still hard at work.

“So anyway, Eduardo, now that you’re out of the way, I’m going to make it look like one of your shady black market deals went wrong. You do have a bad reputation after all. So one of your freaky dealers dropped by, Henry got caught up in it too, and you both disappeared. Because I have a far more lucrative deal brewing right now.” He glanced over at Henry, who was nearly done with his workout. He looked around, seeming to wonder where Eduardo was. Before he could speak:

“Henry! It’s almost showtime, cowboy!” As soon as he spoke the words Henry’s eyes went blank and Rick started loading the syringe.

*

Despite what he had paid for it, Terrence almost couldn’t believe that the heavy black case contained what was promised inside. He motioned for his bodyguard to leave, then waited until he heard the door lock behind him. Then he pried open the case slowly, shaking.

He clapped his chubby hands together when he saw the contents: inside, pressed into a man-shaped cutout in the case’s foam padded interior, was a little man dressed in Superman spandex. It was just as the salesman had promised: big bulging muscles like those muscle beach guys (but bigger! Like that guy with the tattoos he saw on Youtube), a nicely padded crotch that stuck out nearly as much as his massive pecs did, all topped off by Henry Cavill’s beautiful face. The body was so bulky and massive that it made Henry’s beautiful head look tiny in comparison.

And all of it fit in the palm of his hand!

Terrence reached in and gingerly lifted the little man from the foam. His eyes were closed but it was undeniably Henry, with a little spit curl hanging down over his forehead and everything. But his body was unbelievable! Terrence couldn’t resist the urge to squeeze the plump, full muscles as he held the little living doll in his hands.

“Now this,” he said in a hushed voice, “is what the strongest superhero on the planet should look like!”

He set the little superhero on the table and pulled out the sheet of instructions for the living action-figure’s functions.

“Clark! Time to defend Metropolis!” Terrence said.

The spandex-clad muscle blimp’s eyes suddenly snapped open and his eyes looked around. Terrence plopped a Batman action figure down in front of his own personal Superman, marveling at the way every bulging muscle flexed with every movement and how he couldn’t even put his arms down. His legs were so thick his feet were far apart, like a sumo-stance.

Little Superman fixed on the Batman figure, not seeming to realize it wasn’t a person. He waddled forward and one powerful arm grabbed it, hoisting it over his head and then launching it far away.

Terrence put down a Darkseid figure and watched his little living Kryptonian stomp toward it. For a shrunken little man, the footsteps were hard and heavy! He could feel every significant thud. The plastic Darkseid was no match for this gargantuan Superman however.

Terrence was fascinated by the shape of his little beast. His pecs stood out so far there was no way he could see his feet, yet his waist was unbelievably narrow! His limbs were so thick they were nearly inflexible, but he seemed unphased by his limited mobility. Watching the hulking little heartthrob using all of his energy just to move his considerable (to him) weight around was getting him really riled up.

“Okay, Henry. Take five!” The trigger phrase did something to the little action figure. Suddenly, the little man blinked and looked around, seeming shocked--was he more blown away by the building-sized man looming over him, or the fact that he felt trapped inside a body ten-times bigger than the last one he remembered having?

“What--who… what the…” Henry’s high-pitched voice contrasted with his hypermasculine form in the most delicious way. God, Terrence couldn’t wait to get him out of that spandex and explore that body! He was going to scotch-tape his wrists and ankles to the floor and tickle those deep muscle pits until Superman (not Henry!) begged him to stop. He would trace every ludicrous curve on that musclebloated body with his tongue, listening to the high-pitched squeaks and moans as he went past the more sensitive areas.

He couldn’t wait to tickle Superman’s feet with a feather and listen to the tiny “man of steel” (with muscles that could easily smash a bank vault to bits) squeal helplessly to no avail. And he couldn’t wait to get that big plump manhood riled up, edging Superman endlessly, only offering him release after keeping him within a molecule of an orgasm for hours.

So much power in such a small package--and it was all Terrence’s! Best 250 million he’d ever spent.

But for now, it was time to get to know his little toy in an intimate way. “Okay, Clark. Lois is here, and she’s feeling romantic.” The trigger words made little Henry go into another trance as Terrence stood up, unzipped his pants and let his dick fall out across the table. Henry’s eyebrows bounced as he regarded the big dong as an irresistable lover. The confident way little Supes tried to strut toward the big dick (impeded by his muscles the whole way, although he didn’t seem to notice) would have made Terrence laugh if he wasn’t so damn turned on.