Ever upward

by Jonathan Banner

 Though already a giant amongst men, a growth-obsessed hulk acts on his insatiable desire to grow even bigger.

Added: Aug 2016 2,496 words 10,896 views 4.2 stars (6 votes)


Heaving his Brobdingnagian body out of the cramped confines of his truck and unfolding himself to his full stature, his thoughts were consumed with a self-awe fueled by his immensity.

Standing 7’4” tall, he towered above the roof of his vehicle, which was large by all standards—the vehicle in which he had just driven home from work, all the while having felt like an adult crammed inside a plastic automobile designed for toddlers. His legs overflowed from his XXL shorts, his kneecaps bared a good 5” beneath the holes out of which his legs so drastically poured; his muscular, veiny arms so long that the sleeves of his appropriately large t-shirt squeezed tightly against his swollen biceps.

His feet were two five-headed monsters poorly contained within the too-small cages that were his size 22 sandals—all ten of their huge, fat, bald heads attached to necks so long and thick that they drooped ridiculously over the fronts of his enormous (yet still inadequate) footwear, scraping against the ground almost annoyingly as he stomped along. Thick, protruding veins coursed throughout their vast entireties—tunnels of giant’s blood squeezed into further prominence by the tightness of their uncomfortable confinement. His sandals creaked in distress with each step he took, an erotic song of inanimate pain that would have given him a foot-boner if such a thing were possible. (Of all of his oversized appendages, it was his feet that filled him with the most pride, as they were the parts of him that routinely garnered him the most attention, every comment that they merited inevitably culminating in an inquiry into the size of his surely equally tremendous manhood … and boy, did that part of him prove to be fittingly proportionate.)

Sheathed as hopelessly within his shorts as his lowest extremities were in his sandals, his dick was a beast unrivaled in its dimensions: 9” long when flaccid, 13.7” when fully erect, and 7” thick at all times. It hung low and heavy within his shorts, always flopping about uncontrollably with or without the ultimately pointless “support” of underwear. More often than not he would go about the world while commando, for when he did not his monstrous cock would extend past the nadir of his briefs, too long and possessed of far too much heft to stay contained. The fact that it was impossible to properly rein was always exacerbated by the fact that this uncontrollability turned him on to an insane degree—the resulting boners that he consistently popped leading passerby to no doubt wonder if he had a hairspray bottle (or else some other large, phallus-shaped object) stuffed within his crotch … for surely no human penis could truly be so gargantuan. Even now, the fat tip of his sweaty dong threatened to expose itself through the bottom of his pained shorts.

Yet despite his all-encompassing hugeness, he was not satisfied. Though the world unanimously considered him with irrepressible awe, and though his extreme size was already of a degree that proved quite impractical, he desired to be even bigger. And so it had been during the ride home, after much internal debate as to whether or not the further augmentation of his body was something that he would come to regret, he had ultimately decided that it was not something that he would come to view as a mistake. He was going to grow even more.

Stepping into the silence of his home, he shut the front door behind him, locking it as he pulled off his t-shirt. Bending down, he unfastened his sandals, freeing his feet from their joint incarceration (to the audible delight of their equally gracious prisons). Making his way to his bedroom, he undid his belt and slipped out of his shorts, tossing them to the floor after struggling for a few moments to pull his clodhoppers through them, leaving them crumpled in his wake.

Striding across his bedroom and coming to a stop in front of the vast mirror that nearly covered the entire wall upon which it was propped, he basked in the glory of the naked giant reflected back at him. The top of his shaved head threatened to surpass the utmost edge of the mirror’s streak-less surface, his incredibly long, muscular arms, his bulging, hairless chest and masterfully shredded naval all glistening in the faint light that streamed through the curtained window. His feet stretched before him like two behemoths that looked as though they belonged in a cartoon—wide and veiny and boasting pinky toes larger than the big toes of a normal human. And then there was his dick: a swollen, flesh-colored cucumber with a head nearly as large as the average man’s clenched fist, giant and pink, the hole at its tip nearly big enough to shove his entire thumb into.

He stood there, soaking in the sight of his glorious, unbelievable body, and watched as his dick became erect. Bigger and bigger it swelled, rapidly rising from a low-hanging blood-filled balloon to a rock-hard, catastrophically large log of steel. When it had finished engorging, the tip of its near 14’’ length surpassed his wide bellybutton by about two inches. Feeling his balls, he watched as drops of premature ejaculate oozed down his pulsing shaft.

He was glorious—oh, was he glorious—but it was just not enough for him.

Ripping himself away from the mirror, he strode across the minimally furnished room, picking up the bottle of pills that, earlier that morning, he’d set upon his emperor-sized bed (the only caliber of mattress that stood a chance of accommodating his immensity). It was a nondescript bottle, sans any labels or markings that would have betrayed what was contained within its unassuming plastic innards. Yet he knew what was waiting within the bottle … he knew all too well, for it was that which rattled within it that had seen to his reflection becoming so impressive.

Twisting open the lid, he dumped the contents of the bottle onto his black comforter, the blue bills tumbling noisily into a shapeless pile. Tossing their now empty home to the floor, he scooped a handful up into his prodigious right palm, turning back to the mirror and staring at himself once again as he rattled the contents of his trembling fist.

Just do it … he told himself. You know you want to … You know you’re going to … It’s inevitable … Just do it, get it over with …

Stepping into his bathroom, he filled the white cup that had been waiting for him on the sink with water, resting his balls against the counter as he did so, staring at his hugeness in the bathroom mirror all the while. After the cup had been filled to near overflow, he made his way back to his bed.

The pills were warm against his tongue despite the coolness of the water with which they were ushered down his throat. One by one he popped them, one after the other after another … He just kept taking them. He’d lazily kept count at first, but ultimately lost track after he’d ingested the fifteenth or sixteenth.

He took them all, not wanting to leave any room for the desire for further enhancement to form.

Once his black ocean of a bedspread had been returned to its state of vacancy, he again turned and faced his mirror … his colossal mirror … the mirror which barely managed to contain his reflection as it were, but that would soon be rendered far less effective … Useless, even …

His body tingled with such excitement that he wasn’t quite able to detect when exactly the growth began, but once he noticed the top of his forehead disappearing beyond the peak of the mirror he knew that it had begun. Looking down, he watched as the tips of his feet spread across the hardwood floor, the veins zagging across the top of them throbbing with such ferocity that they almost looked as though they would burst out from under his skin. His hands began to feel heavier, and he watched as his fingers lengthened, the palms to which they were attached widening with a force tantamount to that which was simultaneously occurring in his feet. His balls sagged lower and lower, swelling with vigor, pulling down on his groin like two weights.

And he just kept growing.

The augmentation of his body was audible: his increasingly excessive body groaned as it swelled, his stomach bubbling with more than just excitement. The creaking of his bones quickly joined his organs and muscles in song, every inch of him playing its part in an anatomical chorus the likes of which had never before been performed.

His head hit the ceiling.

Laughing in euphoria, he bent his growing, moaning legs, hunching his widening shoulders as his torso was further propelled up through the air, his gaze again dropping to his feet—the feet that had now doubled in size from only a few moments prior. If he had previously been a size 22, he was now a size 44. Bending down, he rubbed them with his creaking hands, his fingers now each the size of impossibly-fat hotdogs, the bones within them crunching as they grew … and grew … and grew …

The burden of his body grew louder, and he soon had no choice but to sit down, his form unable to fit in an upright position even while he was nearly buckled over.

His elbows swelled across the stressed floor, his back forcing itself against the blank wall as his ass increased in size, his legs bent, in no way able to be stretched out lest he wanted to blast holes in the walls with his battering-ram-like feet.

When it stopped, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to catch his breath, his heart racing so fast that he feared that it might explode.

What have I done … ?

The thought was short-lived, almost immediately squashed by the near orgasm of delight that seared through his elephant-size body when he realized that he was the biggest man in the world.

There was no way that he’d be able to exit the room without destroying it—neither the door nor the window large enough for him to pass through peacefully. He was trapped … The only way out would be by force … The only way to freedom would be to decimate his prison.

“Here we go …” he said to himself, pushing down hard onto the floor with his sweaty, umbrella-sized hands as he heaved his immense body up. Though it gave some resistance, the ceiling was no match for him: it cracked and crunched in agony as he hoisted himself up through it, chunks of plaster and clouds of white debris exploding down upon him as he pushed himself up. It hurt, but he didn’t care. Standing straight, his upper body was thrust into the attic; wood snapped, splintering into thousands of pieces that rained down upon his table-sized feet. Raising his arms, he punched through the roof, puncturing the final barrier that separated him from the outside world. The brightness of the day crashed down upon him along with the remnants of the roof, his face drenched at once with tiles and the warmth of the sun.

A scream rent the air.

Turning (and by so doing widening the chasm which his gigantism had wrought) he watched as the old man who lived a few houses down let go of his dog’s leash as he raised his hands to his face, clutching at his screaming head in horror as his dog bared its fangs and barked furiously up at him.

He smiled, his giant mouth now big enough to swallow the dog whole.

Grabbing ahold of the edges of the wound he’d created in his home, he mustered all of his strength and continued to tear the thing apart, smashing his way out of the ruins.

Once freed from the confines of his mangled home, he stepped across his front lawn, each fall of his ungodly feet causing the earth to tremble, leaving deep holes—craters—in the stretches of ground unfortunate enough to be caught beneath his quaking soles.

The man fainted; the dog scurried away, yelping madly as he strode into the street, each stride of his giant legs spanning five yards. Stopping, he looked about him, at the neighborhood that stretched out in its innocent fragility beneath his titanic body … the neighborhood that he could now raze to nothing but rubble should he desire to do so. But he had no such intentions. There was only one thing he wanted to do.

Grabbing his telephone pole-sized dick with his right hand, he began to stroke, bending his tree trunk-thick legs slightly as he fondled his shrub-sized balls with his left. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes in pleasure as the sound of more screams burned through the air; a symphony of terror that made his boner even more unbearably intense.




Despite the cacophony of frightened disbelief that drifted up to his giant ears from what seemed like miles below him, he continued to masturbate, getting more aggressive with his stroking, the sensation of his giganticness filling him with such an indescribable feeling that he felt as though he were going to burst into flames …

When he came, he shouted—a bellowing roar that echoed throughout the neighborhood, his cum exploding out of his dick like blasts of a cannon, tidal waves of thick, white, heavy ejaculate that rained down upon the unconscious body of his neighbor, the house across the street, even into its backyard … Stray globs dripped down upon his massive feet, which had sent cracks running throughout the hard surface of the street. When he had finished blowing his load, he swung his head forward, opened his eyes, and watched as his dick softened slightly. He slapped it against his limitless stomach, an act that seemed to cause the trees that stood around him to shake against the shockwaves it generated. Letting go of his cock, he allowed his attention to fall back to the world below.

The sound of police sirens, though at first faint, grew louder and louder, and when he saw the red and blue lights swirling at the mouth of the lane, he thought to himself, This was so worth it.


I’m glad you’re here. For more about Metabods, visit the About page here.


Commenting and star-upvoting helps others find the good stuff  (Credit: Paul Atkinson)

More Like This