Brandon Twice
patreon
Jerome's Blessings
🕑 Added 2022-08-25 23:42:44 +0000 UTC[long-form upper-tier request]
[muscle growth, hyper muscle]
Calvin lumbered into the gym, eager to get a rush. The little twerp behind the front desk was more than happy to sign him up, offering a “tour of the facilities” after the paperwork was filled out. Calvin brushed him off. He quietly went behind the desk. Ever since he’d become a 6’5” muscle freak, people were far more accepting of his rudeness. If I spend much longer like this, he thought, I may never be kind to people again. May never need to be.
Calvin didn’t have a specific bodypart in mind. He didn’t train like that anymore. He did a lap around the outside of the gym, basking in the attention. A bodybuilder, entranced by his own physique as he went through his posing routine, lost all his confidence as Calvin rumbled past casting a much bigger shadow. Some young punks with big arms and nothing else pointed and gawked as they found themselves in his radius. He loved when they whispered; it was far more exciting to imagine what they were saying about his freakish physique than it was to actually hear them clucking their cliches. “Fucking huge, dude!” had lost its appeal.
A woman on a treadmill leaned over to her friend and said loudly, “That’s just DISGUSTING. Not attractive at all!” Calvin’s dick jumped in his spandex pants. He hoped she got dry as a desert when his superior body passed by. He knew his body was now burned into her memory no matter what. May every man she bed for the rest of her life look like a wisp of flesh in comparison.
He found the big boys over by the squat rack: two massive no-necked bulls moving “massive” (to them, and most mortals) weights in flashy singlets. They had pronounced roidguts, broad barrel chests and big, beefy limbs. They were “big,” of course, until he arrived. Calvin noticed they both seemed to clench as he approached. Guys that size were used to setting their own rules with no one to keep them in check. Calvin, of course, shook their perception of the pecking order, knocking them down a few pegs. It was hard for most blown-up “alpha” men to digest.
“How many more sets?” he asked the taller one, a blonde with a big dick visible in his tight attire.
“Uh, we–”
The shorter brunette one (a little pudgier, but bulging just a bit more than his buddy) interrupted: “Uh, we’re all done,” he said.
“No,” said the blonde. His voice cracked; he was fighting the fear of looking like a pussy in front of his lifting buddy blended with the much more tangible fear of being squashed into a pulp by the much larger man in front of him. “We’ve got one more set!” he said after clearing his throat.
Calvin just shrugged his big shoulders, set down his duffel bag, and glanced at the bar. “No big,” he said in his deep baritone voice. “I’ll just work in.” It wasn’t a request. He gently nudged the blonde out of the way as he approached the bar. “Four plates, hunh?” he said. It was clear Calvin had just walked into the gym. Logically, he would need a warm-up.
“Loading and unloading is just going to take a long time,” the blond said, although his buddy shot him a look that said, “Just let this guy work in, dammit!”
“No need,” Calvin said. He pulled out his weight belt and strapped it on. As he pulled it tight against his massive waist, he noticed that he had gone one hole further than usual; this should have been a warning, of course, but Calvin had witnesses. He stepped up to the weight without hesitation, got underneath, and grunted it as he hoisted it off the rack.
It felt heavy–heavier than anything had to Calvin in weeks. This was another warning, but he ignored it, letting out a long growl as he dropped his ass into the hole. Then, when it was time to take over from gravity, Calvin roared, and pressed… he rose halfway, then slowly started to sink back down.
The bar started to shake as Calvin realized he actually didn’t have the rep. He’d planned on doing 10 with ease! (Two days earlier, he had done just that.) The two beefy men leapt to Calvin’s aid as he struggled. Finally, he just had to tumble backward, letting his “spotters” guide the weight safely to the mat.
Calvin rose, covered in sweat, his legs screaming in agony, and glanced around the gym. People were whispering again, but what they were saying about him had changed.
There was no recovery in Calvin’s mind. He couldn’t be there anymore. He snatched his duffel bag–which seemed heavier than when he had set it down–and headed for the door. He stumbled on a loose dumbbell on the way. As he fumbled, his tight spandex slid down his groin. His dick flopped loose. Calvin could see cameras snapping, could hear the laughter. He hustled to the door as fast as his absurdly thick legs would carry him.
In the parking lot, he spent several minutes examining the inside of his truck. Did it seem bigger? He remembered how tightly he’d had to squeeze in earlier. He resisted the urge to move the seat forward a bit and drove 40 MPH over the speed limit the whole way home.
*
Calvin’s shorts slid down his legs as he paced about. He’d pulled the belt as tight as it would go, but clearly his waist had shrunk more. “Jerome,” he said as he reached voicemail once again, “this is Calvin. I just need… another dose, y’know. I’m happy to pay! I’ll pay anything, honestly, I just… I’m losing everything very quickly this time. Please just call me back so I know you got this message.”
After hanging up, he measured himself against the wall again, drawing a line with a sharpie along the peak of his skull. Then he measured it from the floor: 5’11” tall. “A lot of men would kill to be this tall,” he reminded himself as he hopped on the scale to find that he was 200 pounds. “Still, bigger than when I started,” he tried to rationalize.
He wondered if there was a way to order clothing to his hotel room via room service. Maybe same-day delivery would help? The shorts he’d brought wouldn’t stay up unless he held his hands in each pocket. His shirts were even worse. After he’d reached his biggest size, he had bought only stringer tanks and skin-tight polos that would have fit him at his 350-pound-size. Now those clothes look clownish on him. He couldn’t walk through public without being stared at.
“If I can just get in touch with Jerome,” he thought, picking up his phone and considering another phone call. No, he thought, I’ll just go see him in person. The last-minute plane ticket to the town Jerome lived in had been expensive enough. He had to save money to actually pay Jerome at the end of this.
In the bathroom mirror, he examined how his beard had grown thin and patchy compared to the robust wool it had been only a week before. Meanwhile, the hair on his head was thinning again. What had been a mound of shaggy curls had dwindled down to a “friar tuck”: thin on the top, with a halo of hair around.
Swiping the apps closed on his phone, he caught a glimpse of his Onlyfans account: that MASSIVE beast he had been! Those rugged good looks! That jawline! As it was, his jaw looked soft and round. Had he been in the mood, he could have watched multiple videos of him dominating enormous men with ease. Now, he could fit in the pocket of most of those behemoths.
“Jerome will fix it,” he said. He had a robe and flip-flops he could wear, at least until he reached the penthouse. After “Jerome’s blessing” he would be so massive people would beg to see him flex out of that exact same outfit.
The cab-ride to Jerome’s was awkward. He was gripped with anxiety as he saw the fare rising. He would be out of money soon, and he wasn’t exactly sure how much Jerome would charge. The first dose had been free, the second was $5000, the third was $10,000. He’d paid it each time, knowing he could make the money with a few muscle worship sessions or one cam-show.
He had no idea if Jerome would be willing to accept a credit card as payment… or maybe acts of service? He needed what Jerome had to offer so badly that he couldn’t think of something he wasn’t willing to offer.
The guards outside the elevator to Jerome’s penthouse were huge, obviously made that way by Jerome’s gift. He sized both of them up as he approached. “I’m bigger than both of them,” he thought, although at the moment, his eyeline met them mid-chest. At his augmented size he could easily push the two of them around, however. He looked forward to doing that on the way out.
“I’m here to see Jerome,” Calvin said in a shaky voice. If he didn’t acknowledge his homeless-cosplay attire, maybe they wouldn’t either. Neither guard flinched, staring straight ahead in their mirrored sunglasses as one growled a question into the radio on his lapel. A moment later, he pointed a muscled thumb at the elevator, which slid open.
Thank fucking god, Calvin said, climbing into the brightly lit cylinder. The door that slid closed was mirrored. Calvin was almost certain Jerome had done this to make sure those approaching his home (and leaving) had to stare at what they looked like. Calvin saw that his hair had thinned out further, his face looking more weathered. The robe seemed to sag a bit more. He had to tighten the belt.
Jerome would fix it. He would fix everything.
The lobby outside Jerome’s penthouse had been remodeled since Calvin had last been there. Now, three muscled statues spewed water from their cocks and nipples into ornate fountains. The room was cool. Harp music came from speakers Calvin couldn’t see. The man who approached Calvin looked like a turgid blob of flesh at first. As he approached, Calvin saw he was actually a muscle giant, bulging in all directions. His cock and balls were the most pronounced bulge on a body that was composed only of ballooning mounds of meat.
Calvin’s eyes were entranced by the beast’s nipples, so far down on his overhanging pecs that there was no way he could see them (and with arms that full and thick, no way he could touch them, either). The beast wore only a leather jockstrap, gloves and boots. His skin was dark brown.
“Jerome told me he’s not ready for you yet,” the beast said. His voice was a low rumble that made Calvin’s dick twitch. He couldn’t wait to be big again, to look directly into this godlike man’s eyes, clap hands with him, press his own massive pecs into the beast’s, to commune as the superhuman freaks they were. As it was, Calvin felt disgusting and insignificant, now only the size of the beast’s left leg.
The beast gestured with his cannon-sized arm toward a set of stools around one of the fountains. Calvin had a seat, pulling his robe around to avoid flashing his cock and balls (which, at the moment, were unimpressive and shrimpy compared to the beast’s).
“Were you… blessed by Jerome?” Calvin asked after several quiet moments with the beast looming over him.
The beast nodded, a movement that wasn’t entirely noticeable at first (as his head was so high, and his neck swallowed up by monstrous traps, making a head nod more of a wiggle). “Jerome’s blessings are ohterworldly,” the beast said, beginning to flex his arms and bounce his pecs. Calvin got the feeling the beast wasn’t flexing to be admired, but just to feel the power of his body.
“Who were you… before?” Calvin asked. He could see his reflection in the fountain; he looked like the middle-aged lawyer he’d been before Jerome changed him.
The beast was silent for a moment. “Master Jerome says that who we were before is inconsequential. The old me died the moment he changed me. That man is just dust in the wind. Gone.”
Calvin quietly sobbed. If only that were true.
“But I was a senator. I’d lived a lot of life as that man. Next month will be my eighteenth birthday, although my truest moment of creation came when I first swallowed Jerome’s load and became… this…” He tried to pat his pecs, but could only bend his arm enough to graze the edge of one. “All that time legislating against many of the things I do now… but I would never go back. This life now is the only one that matters.”
Calvin shivered. How lucky this guy was to become a paragon of masculinity… no doubt used for muscle worship, and orgies, or perhaps just to be marveled at during parties. Jerome’s galas always had an array of gargantuan men ordered to stand still to be admired only. At one, all the augmented men were invited to wrestle each other, the winner getting a bonus blessing from Jerome. Calvin had given his all at that event, with all the hard muscles and sweat and frenzied men struggling to see if they could get even more of what they had given.
His forearm hairs stood on end as he realized that the beast, here, must have been the man who had beaten him. (The fact that he had forearm hair at all was a disturbing reminder that he was sliding backwards towards vile humanity once again.)
When it was time, Calvin leapt from his seat toward the waiting door. He found Jerome lounging on a lush purple couch, staring up at the sun filtering through the skylight. He sighed as Calvin walked in, his flip-flops squeaking loudly in the otherwise quiet room.
“How disappointing,” Jerome said. “You were such a beauty before. How could you have let yourself become… THIS… again?” Jerome said with a vague gesture.
Jerome himself was just a wisp of a man, smaller even than Calvin was at that moment. He was lean and muscled like a gymnast, but his whole body could have practically fit within the beast’s jockstrap. He sat up and folded his tightly sculpted arms and frowned.
“It’s disappointing to see you in this state,” Jerome said.
“I know. I want so badly to be… blessed again…”
“What I mean is… I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate you here,” Jerome said. He took a bite of a plum from a gold fruit basket on a table next to his couch. He winced at its taste and put it back in the bowl. “I may have to eject you summarily. Just the sight of you is… really bringing down my day.”
“I can pay!” Calvin said. “I can pay or… whatever you need…”
Jerome smirked. “You think that’s what I’m about? That my blessing is merely a beverage on tap for whoever is thirsty? I may have my swollen brute smash you into a pulp just for your audacity.”
“But, please–”
“You realize no one will miss you,” Jerome said. “No one will forget you. They’ll miss your augmented self… those muscles, that dick, that hair… that attitude! Oh, you were a scrumptious man after I finished with you. But as you are now…”
Calvin had his checkbook out. He signed the bottom line, leaving the top blank, and tore it out. It was the last check. The book was now empty. “I’ve got it! Right here! As much money as you…”
“Tell me what you’ll do with your gift, if I decide to grace you with it.”
“I’ll… I’ll show it to the world. I’ll show everyone all that you gave me. I’ll be a living demonstration of what a man can become. People will worship at my feet.”
“I want people to worship ME,” Jerome said with a snort. “I don’t give blessings to men who confuse themselves with my divinity.”
“But it will be a celebration of YOU,” Calvin said, his voice rising to a whine. He had shrunk further, the robe now gathering in a puddle around his feet. “People will be worshiping what YOU gave me. The man I am with your blessing is merely an… extension of… your greatness…” His mouth was dry. He scanned the room for a glass of water. Jerome had a glass of wine by his side.
“I’m so bored with this,” Jerome said. “I could, of course, just ignore you. Let you live out your foolish life. Is your job at your law firm still available? I’m sure SOMEONE would hire you.”
“Please–”
“Not to do the things you want to do, however,” Jerome said. “It will be a long fall from fucking lonely husbands until they begged you to get them pregnant, or making powerful men weep with your cock buried to the hilt in their throbbing muscular asses…”
“PLEASE!”
“Crawl to me,” Jerome said. Calvin was on his knees in a moment. He crawled with his head down. “Shed that vile robe,” Jerome ordered, and Calvin did it. “There we are, you sad little man,” Jerome cooed when Calvin had finally reached him. “How much is my blessing worth to you?”
“I-I have $8,700…” Calvin said. Jerome clucked his tongue. “I c-can get more though! I will!”
“My blessing, reduced to four digits,” Jerome said. “Do you know how many men would cut off their own limbs to taste my seed? And you want to drain the rest of your pathetic bank account?”
“I’ll cut off a limb,” Calvin whimpered. He dared to raise his eyes and saw that Jerome was casually stroking his dick, a gold cock ring at the base.
“Well, let’s not be so hasty,” Jerome said. “You’ll pay me all that money. Every dime. And more, of course, because this dose costs $15,000. You know how my pricing structure works.”
“Sure! Anything!” Calvin said.
“But I think you owe me more, because you’re really sullying my boudoir today.”
Calvin licked his lips, lifting his head to shoot Jerome a pleading glance. “Anything,” he said. God, he wanted his mouth on that cock SO BADLY!
“My beast, whom you met before you entered, needs a plaything,” Jerome said. “You and he, I think, would make a cute couple. Not now, of course. You’re so absurdly AVERAGE. You’re not worth to clean the dried cum from his taint. But with my gift, I know you’d be JUST my beast’s type.”
Calvin’s dick twitched at the idea.
“I know you prefer to be a top,” Jerome said, “but my beast does NOT bottom. What man his size would? So you’ll be servicing him regularly, submitting to his needs…”
“Yes sir…” Calvin whispered.
“But since he’s got his own daily routine, all the minutiae of my life to manage, you’ll be stopping by once a day to allow him to get out his urges. I’ll allow you two hulks an hour to rut like dogs, then he’s got to get back to work. On Saturdays, you’ll have a full day. But you must always submit to him. If I hear you, once, resisting, you’ll die scrawny and alone, babbling about the muscles no one will believe you ever had…”
“Yes sir!” Calvin said. His dick was rock hard now. Jerome was lowering his cock to Calvin like a scepter. Calvin lunged forward, suckling hungrily.
“There’s a good boy,” Jerome said. As he flexed his hips, feeding his cock to Calvin, he reached past him to grab the discarded check from the ground. “I’ll take $8500 now,” Jerome said. “I’ll leave you $200 to get a wardrobe pleasing to my beautiful beast.”
Calvin murmured assent around Jerome’s cock.
“Oh, if only I could make it so you could get pregnant. You’d look so adorable plumped up with my beast’s litter growing in your belly!”
His cock jumped and Calvin’s heart leapt. He swallowed hungrily as Jerome came, silently and without expression, as if he were casually releasing a fart.
Calvin fell backwards, hand on his belly, as he felt the warm tingling spreading throughout his body. He felt the prickly hairs growing back across his chest and under his arms suddenly fading away. He looked down to see his cock doubling in size… then tripling! He chuckled as he heard his bones and tendons cracking as they elongated.
“Good boy!” Jerome said, scratching Calvin’s head as his curls grew back in. He grabbed a tuft of Calvin’s beard after it had sprouted, giving it a tug. Then he grabbed the plump gumdrop sized nipple that had blossomed on Calvin’s expansive, throbbing pec and gave it a twist. Calvin just groaned in his deepened voice, his rejuvenated muscles twitching and flexing as he chuckled like a drunken imbecile.
“On your feet, boy,” Calvin ordered, and Calvin was back on his feet. Now, he towered over Jerome. The room seemed so much smaller! Calvin cracked his knuckles, happy to feel the strength in his hands again. There was no hope of putting his feet together with these gargantuan thighs now! He twisted his hips, swinging his hefty, drooling dick back and forth.
“Oh, Beast!” Jerome called. The door opened and the massive monster lumbered in. “I’ve got a gift for you.”
Now Calvin was far closer to the beast’s height (although still a half-head shorter.) The beast was still incredibly huge, but Calvin felt like he could reasonably share the room with him. He got cocky and leaned forward, grabbing the beast in his burly arms and pulling him in for a kiss. As their tongues lapped sloppily at each other, Calvin forgot how puny and insignificant he’d felt just minutes before in the lobby.
“Now, Calvin, you can’t go disappointing my beast now,” Jerome chided. “That means you’ll need to be purchasing a steady supply of my gift. Are you willing to do that? Or will my beast have to crush you beneath his enormous glutes?”
“Oh god, yes,” Calvin moaned, walking hand-in-hand with the beast from the room. The two monsters got stuck in the door of course, comically maneuvering their cartoonish bodies through the limited space without daring to lose the touch of the other.
“I’ll give you an hour to get acquainted,” Jerome said to his beast.
Calvin knew exactly what he wanted to do. “Let’s go push around the guards downstairs,” he said.
“We’ll make them our lube bitches while we fuck,” the beast said.
What a splendid idea, Calvin thought, forgetting all about the filthy robe and flip-flops he’d left behind.
