First day

by Thatbadwriter

 Dylan’s first day waiting tables at the Scottish tea house seems to be going great, until his kilt starts riding up.

Added: Nov 2020 964 words 6,764 views 4.2 stars (9 votes)

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It was Dylan’s first day in the Scottish tea house and by all accounts everything was going well, brilliantly even! A pair of older women enjoying their luncheon had tipped very generously, and several men ranging from cute to outright handsome had gotten a little flirty with him. One had even “dropped” a business card with his personal number at his table, despite eating alone with no real reason to get it out, that was hidden beneath an obscenely large tip.

His own break was rapidly approaching and he was ready to have a moment off his feet. He didn’t exactly feel unwell, but he definitely felt something. The first chance he got he made his way towards the staff bathrooms and somehow in the span of his short walk his adrenaline had begun to spike. Gripping the sink’s basin he peered into his reflection’s eyes but saw nothing amiss. When considered trying to check his pulse though he got a start as he felt his heart lurch in his chest. Even if he couldn’t tell what is was something was undoubtedly happening to him as he fell to his knees on the bathroom floor. For a moment Dylan cursed that he found himself alone, but that resentment became gratitude when he realized how exposed he must have looked on the ground with his kilt riding up. Wait, riding up? Earlier it’d fit him perfectly. He then noticed a tightness in his shirt that hadn’t existed before either.

Forcing his way back up to his feet, with only a touch of passing dizziness, Dylan saw firsthand how drastically his reflection had changed. His considerable biceps had grown into something closer resembling a pair of melons, his chest heaved with new weight as if it were instead two hairy dinner plates trying to escape the confines of the shirt, and his jawline had gone from something of devilish charm to a look of sculpted masculinity and bravado. As he admired the changes though it became apparent his body wasn’t done, thickets of coarse strong hair blossomed down his arms and a wild bush of a beard started erupting from his face.

Another spike of adrenaline suddenly ripped through his body and Dylan grabbed the sink just in case he fell again. Rather than fall though he just felt his knees shaking slightly before he felt his balls bloat with a surge of testosterone and size. A euphoric pleasure so strong he nearly climaxed overwhelmed him as his already massive meat began to practically unreel like a hose and snake down his shorts. Yet again his muscles surged with the new boon of power and his arms and legs began resembling tree trunks with their sheer size, splitting his sleeves in a bid for liberation, while his body became swollen with so much bulk his standard collar was torn into a deep v-neck. His head inched up and up towards the ceiling and a deep burly moan escaped his lips before it stopped all too soon.

There’d be no explaining how he’d grown to a man almost a full head taller than he’d been, but Dylan didn’t seem to mind as he explored his large bodybuilder’s physique. It’s not like it was illegal to grow though, and with his new look he wouldn’t be surprised if by the end of the day he could afford a Lamborghini off his tip money. Deciding it was best to tear the bandage away in one fell swoop he decided to just exit the bathroom and do his best to just enjoy this but when he reached for the knob his body again spasmed and he wholly crumpled it in his hand as he was hit yet again.

With an excitement so intense he’d already forgotten his brute strength had just mangled solid metal Dylan ran to the mirror. He was far from disappointed as he witnessed the tears in his clothes deepen and his head rising again, a new change was occurring as well though. His dense lush hair was again thickening, but every hair on him was becoming a brilliant reddish orange, almost reminiscent of a flame. This time the pleasure was so great he needed to bite into his meaty paw of a hand just to muffle his moans as his sleeves burst off his arms, failing spectacularly to wrap around biceps bigger than a beach ball. Following suit his shirt began to split at the seems and tear away as shoulders that could hold an entire man finally breathed freely and his luscious pecs graced the world with their heavy swollen visage. His body was far from through however as he felt the shorts that dared try and preserve his modesty virtually explode beneath his kilt before fluttering impotently to the ground while his mighty cock thwacked his gargantuan thigh. The only thing that remained was the kilt itself, though it now failed miserably in its purpose of clothing the massive man who continued to expand. Stretching, grunts, and cracks echoed in the bathroom until Dylan’s head scraped against the ceiling before his growth finally stopped.

He was so tall he couldn’t even see his bushy red beard in the mirror without bending down, but if that was one of the costs of being so gloriously massive he’d happily live with it. One thing that did show in his reflection though was a cock throbbing with need higher than an average man’s head and draped with checkered cloth at its hilt. His deep new voice rattled the room when he chuckled as he stroked his long meaty barrel of a dick and he knew that his new job was going to suit him just fine.

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