Chapter 2: Mirror, Monster, and Moans
The thrumming hadn’t stopped. It was a low, insistent vibration deep within Andrew’s bones, a constant reminder of the locker room horror. Now, alone in his apartment – a shrine to iron and protein – the terror momentarily receded, replaced by a morbid, overwhelming fascination. He stood naked before the full-length mirror screwed into the back of his bedroom door, the harsh overhead light bleaching his massively expanded frame. His reflection was a stranger: a hulking monument of muscle, veins like blue cables snaking across rock-hard flesh. His shoulders seemed to scrape the doorframe. His chest was a barrel, pecs thick slabs straining skin that looked painfully tight. His thighs were monstrous pillars, calves bulging obscenely. And then… there.
His cock jutted out aggressively, impossibly thick and long, flushed a deep, angry red. Nine and a half inches Steven had measured. Seven and a quarter around. It looked alien grafted onto him, a monstrous appendage dwarfing his own massive hand as he wrapped trembling fingers around the scorching hot base. He couldn’t fully encircle it. The sheer girth was staggering. He gave a tentative stroke upwards, the slick precum beading at the swollen, purplish head easing the friction slightly. A low groan rumbled in his chest, echoing the internal thrumming. It wasn’t just arousal; it was a terrifying, primal pulse radiating from his core, vibrating through his engorged shaft. He stroked again, harder, mesmerized by the obscene sight: his thick fingers sliding clumsily, barely covering half the thick circumference, the heavy length bouncing slightly with the motion. The heat intensified. The thrumming surged. He felt a terrifying pressure building deep within his pelvis, a familiar, horrifying precursor. Is it… still…? The thought was cut off by the apartment door crashing open.
Steven stood framed in the doorway to Andrew’s bedroom, breathing hard, eyes wide and wild. He hadn’t knocked. He hadn’t called. He’d run straight from the gym, the image of Andrew exploding out of his clothes, the feel of that impossible heat and hardness in his hand, burning through every rational thought. Now, seeing Andrew naked, impossibly huge, hand wrapped around that monstrous cock, the air crackled. Sweat plastered Steven’s t-shirt to his lean chest. His gaze raked over Andrew’s transformed body – the terrifying muscle mass, the stretched skin, the sheer, overwhelming scale – but it locked, magnetized, onto the throbbing erection Andrew still held.
"Fuck," Steven breathed, the word thick with lust and disbelief. He took a stumbling step forward, then another, his own erection straining painfully against his shorts. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t speak. He dropped to his knees on the worn carpet littered with stray protein scoops, his hands flying to the button of his shorts, fumbling desperately.
Andrew froze, his hand stilling on his cock, a fresh wave of humiliation and shock washing over him. "Steven? What the hell—"
"Shut up," Steven gasped, shoving his shorts and briefs down his hips in one frantic motion. His own cock sprang free, hard and leaking, but it looked pitifully small compared to the monstrous thickness before him. He didn’t care. His eyes were glazed, fixed solely on Andrew’s cock. "Just… fuck me with it, Drew." His voice was raw, desperate. "That fucking beast… I need it. Now. Can’t… can’t wait another fucking second."
He scrambled forward on his knees, his hands grasping Andrew’s thick thighs, fingers digging into the dense muscle. He craned his neck, leaning in, his hot breath washing over the swollen head of Andrew’s cock. He didn’t kiss it. He opened his mouth wide, straining, trying to take just the tip. The sheer girth was overwhelming. His lips stretched painfully thin, teeth scraping against the hot, iron-hard flesh as he managed to force the bulbous crown past his lips. He gagged instantly, saliva dripping down his chin. He pulled back, coughing, eyes watering, but the desperation didn’t fade. It burned hotter.
"Steven, stop—" Andrew tried, his voice thick with confusion and the relentless internal thrumming that seemed to intensify with Steven’s proximity.
"Need you inside me," Steven choked out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He pushed Andrew backwards with surprising force. Andrew stumbled, his massive bulk landing heavily on the edge of his unmade bed, the frame groaning in protest. Steven was on him instantly, scrambling onto Andrew’s lap, straddling his colossal thighs. He fumbled in the pocket of his discarded shorts, pulling out a small, half-used tube of lube he’d grabbed blindly from his gym bag. He squeezed a thick, glistening stream onto his fingers, then reached behind himself, his face contorted in fierce concentration.
Andrew watched, stunned, trapped beneath Steven’s frantic energy. He saw Steven’s fingers working behind himself, heard the sharp intake of breath, saw the muscles in Steven’s lean back tense. The thrumming inside Andrew pulsed stronger, syncing with his pounding heartbeat. His cock throbbed against Steven’s thigh, leaving a slick smear. Steven withdrew his fingers, glistening wet. He positioned himself, hovering over Andrew’s lap, one hand guiding the impossibly thick, flushed head towards his entrance. Andrew could see the tight, puckered muscle straining impossibly against the sheer diameter.
"Jesus, Steven… it won’t…" Andrew started, fear warring with the intense, terrifying arousal coiling in his own swollen groin.
"It fucking will," Steven hissed through gritted teeth. He bore down, his face a mask of agonized determination. He pressed the slicked head against himself. Andrew felt the intense heat and impossible tightness engulf just the very tip. Steven cried out, a sharp, pained sound that morphed into a guttural groan. He pushed harder, sinking down another fraction of an inch. The stretch was brutal, excruciating. Steven’s body trembled violently, his knuckles white where he gripped Andrew’s shoulders. Sweat poured down his face, mingling with tears of pain and overwhelming need. He forced himself down further, impaling himself slowly, torturously, on the monstrous girth. Andrew could feel every agonizing inch of resistance, the clenching, ripping tightness surrounding him. He gasped, the sensation overwhelming – terrifyingly intense pressure mixed with searing heat and a dark, primal pleasure that surged through his thrumming core.
"Fuck… fuck… fuck…" Steven chanted, each word a ragged sob as he sank lower, taking perhaps three brutal inches. He was panting, shaking, his body screaming in protest. He paused, trembling violently, trying to adjust to the impossible invasion. "So… fucking… big…" he gasped, his voice wrecked. "Hurts… hurts so goddamn good…"
Andrew couldn’t speak. He could only feel: the crushing tightness, the searing heat, the relentless thrumming inside him vibrating through his cock into Steven’s clenching body. He gripped Steven’s hips, his massive hands spanning almost the entire width, feeling the tremors wracking Steven’s frame. He lifted Steven slightly, then pulled him back down, guiding him. Steven screamed, a raw, animal sound, as Andrew forced another inch deeper. The bed frame groaned louder.
"Move!" Steven begged, tears streaming freely now, mixing with sweat. "Fuck me! Hard! Use that fucking monster!"
The raw plea shattered Andrew’s last shred of hesitation. A guttural growl ripped from his throat, deeper and more resonant than ever before. He planted his huge feet flat on the floor, the muscles in his monstrous thighs and ass coiling like steel springs. He thrust upwards, burying himself deeper into that impossibly tight, scorching heat. Steven’s scream was pure, shattered ecstasy. Andrew pulled back, the drag agonizingly slow, then slammed upwards again, harder. The force lifted Steven’s entire body off his lap for a second before gravity slammed him back down onto the brutal thickness.
Andrew fucked with raw, terrifying power. Each upward drive of his hips was piston-like, fueled by the inhuman strength in his transformed legs and core. The bed bucked violently, the cheap frame cracking ominously with each thrust. Steven bounced on his lap, impaled, his cries a continuous stream of obscenities and pleas: "Yes! Fuck! Harder! Rip me open! God, yes! So fucking deep! Beast! Monster! Fucking use me!"
Andrew gripped Steven’s hips like vices, fingers digging into flesh, lifting and slamming him down onto his cock in time with his own brutal upward drives. He watched, mesmerized and horrified, as Steven’s lean body stretched obscenely around the impossible girth plunging in and out. The sounds were filthy: the wet, slapping impact of flesh on flesh, Steven’s ragged cries, the creaking bed, and the slick, obscene squelch of his cock pistoning in and out of the stretched, abused hole. The heat was unbearable. The tightness was suffocating. The thrumming inside Andrew roared, a deafening internal engine driving his hips, syncing with the frantic pulse he felt in his cock buried deep within Steven’s convulsing body.
Steven’s head lolled back, mouth open in a silent scream, then snapped forward. His eyes rolled back, showing whites. His cock, trapped between their sweat-slicked stomachs, jerked violently, untouched, spilling thick ropes of cum onto Andrew’s rock-hard abs. His inner muscles clamped down in brutal, rhythmic spasms around Andrew’s invading thickness, milking him with agonizing pressure.
The sensation tipped Andrew over the edge. A roar tore from his throat, deeper and more resonant than human, shaking the walls. He slammed Steven down one final time, burying himself to the hilt, and erupted. It wasn’t a normal orgasm; it was a volcanic expulsion, deep, pulsing jets of cum flooding Steven’s depths with terrifying force. He felt the hot liquid surge, impossibly voluminous, filling the tight space until he felt Steven’s stomach bulge slightly against his own abs. The thrumming peaked, a shattering vibration that seemed to emanate from his very core, shaking the bedframe violently. He held Steven impaled, shuddering, as the last violent pulses tore through him.
Silence crashed down, broken only by their ragged gasps and the frantic hammering of Andrew’s own heart. Steven slumped forward, boneless, his forehead resting on Andrew’s massive, heaving chest, still speared on the softening, yet still impossibly thick, shaft. Cum leaked obscenely around the stretched rim. Andrew stared down at Steven’s wrecked body, then at his own hands gripping Steven’s hips – his fingers looked thicker, knuckles more pronounced. The thrumming hadn’t stopped. It pulsed, low and insistent, deep within his bones. He felt heavier. The bed groaned under a new, terrifying pressure. He looked past Steven’s slumped head towards the mirror on the door. His reflection stared back, shoulders broader, pecs thicker, the veins darker, more pronounced. The monstrous cock, slick with sweat and cum and lube, still looked impossibly huge resting against Steven’s thigh. Andrew’s breath hitched. It’s still happening. The terrifying realization was a cold knife in his gut. He was still growing. Right now. Trapped beneath Steven, feeling the relentless expansion press against Steven’s insides, Andrew knew the horror was far from over. The thrumming deepened, vibrating the floorboards beneath the bed.
The thrumming deepened, vibrating the floorboards beneath the bed. It pulsed through Andrew’s bones, a relentless engine driving the terrifying expansion. Steven whimpered against Andrew’s heaving chest, still impaled on the softening, monstrous thickness. "Drew," he slurred, voice thick with exhaustion and spent lust. "Feel… feel heavy. Can’t… breathe… good."
Andrew felt it too. A crushing pressure. Not just Steven’s slight weight, but his own mass increasing, pressing down, sinking the bedframe deeper into the floor. His muscles felt denser, tighter, the skin stretched thinner over the terrifying new bulk. "Get off," Andrew rasped, panic threading his voice. "Gotta… move."
He gripped Steven’s hips, the flesh seeming less substantial now beneath his thicker fingers, and lifted. Steven slid off with a wet, sucking pop and a gasp, collapsing onto his side beside Andrew, cum leaking obscenely onto the sheets. Andrew surged upright, the bed groaning like a dying beast. He stumbled towards the full-length mirror, needing to see the damage.
His reflection was a grotesque parody of his former self. Shoulders strained against the door frame, scraping the paint. His chest was a wider, thicker barrel, pecs like slabs of granite, veins like fat blue worms writhing beneath skin stretched translucent. His waist remained relatively trim, making the sheer upper body mass even more monstrous. His arms hung like tree trunks, thicker than Steven’s thighs. Between them, his cock, even flaccid now, was a thick, heavy rope of flesh resting against obscenely swollen balls, still glistening with sweat and lube and the remnants of his orgasm. It looked marginally thicker, longer than before they’d fucked. The thrumming intensified, a low hum resonating in the small room.
Steven pushed himself up on shaky arms, staring at Andrew’s back. "Your lats," he breathed, eyes wide not with lust now, but dawning horror. "They’re… flaring wider. Right now. Look!"
Andrew twisted, a clumsy movement in his massive frame, and peered over his shoulder. Steven was right. The dense slabs of muscle framing his spine pulsed subtly, expanding outwards, pushing against the limits of his skin. The thrumming surged in time with the movement. A connection snapped into place, sharp and terrifying. Flexing. The locker room. The bicep swelling under tension. The growth spiking when he’d powered into Steven, muscles straining.
"You flexed," Steven whispered, scrambling off the bed, wincing as he stood. "In the locker room. When you showed me your arm. And just now… when you lifted me… when you were fucking me… you were straining." He took a hesitant step closer, staring at Andrew’s pulsing back muscles. "That’s it. It’s the flex. The muscle contraction triggers it."
Andrew stared at his reflection, at the impossible bulk. The idea was insane. Worse than insane. But the evidence was staring back at him, still subtly swelling. He needed to know. Needed control, even if it meant inviting more horror. He braced himself, feet wide apart on the groaning floorboards. He took a deep, shuddering breath, filling his expanded chest. Slowly, deliberately, he tensed his right bicep.
The effect was immediate and horrifying. The muscle didn’t just peak; it surged. Thick veins erupted like dark rivers across the dense flesh, which visibly swelled, pushing outwards. Skin stretched audibly, a thin, papery sound. The thrumming roared in his ears, a physical vibration shaking his entire arm. "Fuck!" Andrew gasped, releasing the flex instantly. The muscle settled slightly, but remained visibly larger than it had been seconds before.
Steven flinched back a step, then surged forward, eyes blazing with a mix of fear and perverse fascination. "Do it again," he urged, voice tight. "Just a little. Let me see." He grabbed the discarded tape measure from the floor near the bed where he’d dropped it earlier.
Andrew hesitated, the memory of the locker room tearing, the feeling of being inflated alive, flooding back. But the need to understand, to have some semblance of agency, overrode the terror. He focused on his right bicep again. Not a full flex this time. Just a slight tension, a conscious activation of the fibers. He held it.
The muscle hardened, thickening beneath the skin. The thrumming pulsed deep within it. He saw the tape measure stretch fractionally around his arm. "Half-inch? Maybe?" Steven murmured, fingers hovering near the hot, dense flesh but not touching. "Controlled. Just hold it. Don't push harder."
Andrew held the tension, breathing raggedly. He felt the pull, the deep cellular vibration confined, for now, to his arm. The growth felt… directed. Contained. A fragile sense of possibility flickered. He relaxed. The muscle softened minimally, the thrumming subsiding to its usual background level. "Okay," Andrew breathed. "Okay. Maybe… maybe we can manage it."
Steven nodded, a glint in his eyes that wasn't just scientific curiosity anymore. It was darker. Hungrier. His gaze drifted down Andrew’s transformed body, lingering on the thick flaccid cock, then back up to the terrifying expanse of his chest and shoulders. "Manage it," he echoed, licking his lips. "Yeah. Manage it." He stepped closer, his own renewed erection pressing against Andrew’s massively thick thigh. "Flex your chest," Steven whispered, his voice rough. "Just a little. While I…" His hand trailed down Andrew’s abs, heading towards his groin.
Andrew’s breath hitched. The suggestion was madness. Dangerous. But the memory of Steven’s tight heat, the obscene stretch, the way Steven had begged for the impossible thickness… it flooded him with a dark, reckless heat. Steven’s fingers closed around his cock, still thick and heavy, and began to stroke. Slowly at first, then with growing insistence, his thumb smearing the fresh bead of precum already welling at the tip.
"Flex," Steven commanded, his other hand splaying possessively on Andrew’s rock-hard lower abs. "Show me. Just a little." He squeezed Andrew’s cock, pulling a low groan from him. The thrumming responded, surging in his core.
Andrew sucked in a breath, focusing on his pectoral muscles. He tensed them deliberately, feeling the dense slabs of muscle harden and push forward slightly beneath Steven’s splayed hand. The thrumming intensified, localized deep in his chest this time. He felt the expansion, subtle but undeniable. His pecs thickened, the skin tightening further, the separation between them deepening. Steven moaned, his strokes on Andrew’s cock becoming faster, slicker. "Fuck yes," Steven breathed, mesmerized by the living sculpture hardening under his touch. "Feel it. Feel you growing…"
The combination was electric and terrifying. The physical pleasure of Steven’s hand, the visual of his own body swelling under controlled tension, the thrumming power surging through him. He lost focus. He wanted more. More strength. More size. More of the terrifying power coiling inside him. He flexed his chest harder, deliberately, pushing the contraction. The pecs surged outwards violently. The thrumming roared, vibrating his ribcage.
Steven gasped, stumbling back as Andrew’s chest swelled against his hand. "Drew! Easy! Too much!"
But Andrew was gone. The feeling was too potent. He threw his head back, roaring, and unleashed the tension. Not just his chest. Everything. He flexed his entire upper body in a cataclysmic contraction – lats flaring like demon wings, delts rounding into terrifying boulders, traps climbing his neck, biceps and triceps swelling into obscene, veined masses. The thrumming became a physical force, shaking the room. Plaster dust sifted from the ceiling. The mirror rattled violently in its frame.
Steven screamed, scrambling backwards as Andrew seemed to erupt before him. "Stop! Andrew, STOP!"
Andrew’s spine straightened, cracking audibly. His head brushed the ceiling. He looked down, his perspective terrifyingly altered. Steven seemed smaller, further away. The room itself felt cramped, suffocating. The sheer mass of his flexed muscles was overwhelming, a landscape of straining sinew and stretched skin. He felt colossal. Invincible. The thrumming peaked, a deafening internal howl, then settled into a deep, satisfied purr as he finally, slowly, released the tension. He slumped slightly, gasping, the colossal muscles softening minutely but still monumentally huge. He looked at Steven, who was pressed against the far wall, eyes wide with terror and awe.
"Steven," Andrew rumbled, his voice deeper, a bass vibration that resonated in the floorboards. "Tape. Now."
Steven fumbled with the tape measure, hands shaking violently. He approached Andrew like one would approach an unexploded bomb. The numbers were obscene.
Height: Brushing the ceiling. Tape confirmed 6'8". Steven had to stand on the groaning bed to reach.
Weight: The cheap bathroom scale groaned, flashed an error, then settled on 345 lbs. Andrew’s massive feet hung off the edges.
Neck: 22 inches. Thick as Steven’s thigh.
Shoulders: Biacromial width impossible to measure accurately; Steven estimated over 28 inches, broader than the doorframe.
Chest: 62 inches. A barrel of solid muscle.
Arms: 24 inches cold. Flexed, they swelled past 26, veins like blue snakes.
Forearms: 19 inches. Thicker than most men’s biceps.
Waist: 36 inches. A miracle of targeted growth.
Quads: 35 inches. Tree trunks splitting the air.
Calves: 20 inches. Dense and striated.
Cock: Flaccid, resting against a sack of swollen testicles. Steven’s hands trembled as he measured the impossible thickness first. 7.5 inches around. The length? 10.5 inches. Cold. Steven dropped the tape measure, staring at the monstrous organ hanging between Andrew’s colossal legs, a permanent, terrifying testament to the unstoppable force Andrew contained. The thrumming pulsed softly, a predator resting. Waiting.