My name's Mike Angelo. I'm a scrawny thing who's spent most of his life wondering how come everyone in the world gets to be bigger and stronger than me. I suppose I could have, started working out more often, got myself some steroids or something. The thought had crossed my mind, but the risks aren't for me, and, frankly, the “easy way” didn't seem that easy to me. So instead I forced my nose into books, reading everything I could about muscle. My strength doesn't lie in the weight room, it lies in the lab. I was getting nowhere until I found that strange rock after the meteor shower. It was warm when I found it but not too hot to touch. When I picked it up out of the field, I felt a strange tingling on my finger tips. It was faint, almost like a small electric shock, but it felt more like it was deeper than a shock would be. I took it home, intrigued, and started to study it. I've always been the teacher's pet, and when I started going to university a few years ago it began to pay off. Suck up to the right professors and you'll get stuff. What I found was weird. The rock seemed to give off a ray that had an odd effect on living organisms. If figured out that if I could focus the rays I could really make some changes. This was what I had been looking for. Using small pieces of the rock I made tiny devices for mice, and, after some tinkering my project was done.
It was a belt, about an inch wide. Inside was all the electronics and wiring that it needed, along with a few minute particles of the space rock. On the buckle was a round dial with numbers from 0 to 10. I was prepared: wearing a really loose muscle shirt and shorts, my hands trembled as I put the belt on. “Here goes nothing,” I said, and turned the dial from 0 to 1. A very faint humming came from the belt and I felt a weird tingling all over my body, like inside, in my muscles. The tingling faded after a few seconds, and I stood in front of the body length mirror that I'd put in my lab. Was I bigger? I couldn't tell. I flexed my arms, frowning at the muscles that were there: no bigger than they'd always been. I almost gave up right then, but the tingling that I'd felt told me that something had happened. I moved the dial to 2. The tingling came back, stronger this time, filling every muscle, even my groin. It was like having a vibrator or something inside every part of me, turned on “low”. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling. My dick especially felt nice, and was half-hard already. The feeling went away, but not as completely as it had. It was almost like it was working on a deeper level. Looking at my reflection, I saw that maybe I was a little bigger, maybe. I flexed my arms, surprised to see that I could clearly see a few veins. Lifting up my shirt, I gasped. I could see abs! They were faint, but they were there! I noticed how uncomfortable my shorts were all of a sudden and had to rearrange my dick. Abs had always been sexy to me, but no matter how hard I tried I could never get them to show.
As I moved my dick, I gave it a couple strokes, barely acknowledging how good it felt to play with myself. I was still amazed at my abs. But even though I'd made progress, I realised that maybe I should have had some higher levels. I'd always wanted to be not just big, but huge. At the rate this belt worked, I'd be up to level 40 before I was near the size I wanted. Still, it was cool to see the effects, even if they were minor. Before I went any further, I took off the belt, carefully watching myself in the mirror. I didn't change. That was good. The belt was hardly what I'd call a fashion accessory. Wearing it once would be enough. I fastened the belt once more, and, shrugging, turned the dial up to 7. My breath was ripped out of my lungs as every muscle trembled. I felt filled with energy, aware of every pore, every cell. This was hundreds of times stronger than what I'd felt before, like I was standing on a jackhammer. My eyes widened as I watched my reflection in the mirror. I could -see- my muscles growing! I felt my skin stretch as my biceps began to grow, slowly at first, but gaining speed. The muscle shirt began to fill out as my chest began to expand, as my back grew wider. I could see my pecs begin to take shape, pressing against the shirt. My shorts began to feel tight around the thighs and I looked down and could see my legs growing. I had to widen my stance as my quads grew thicker, the insides of my legs pressing against each other. I—felt- heavier! Tentatively, I raised my arms to my chest, wanting to feel what it was like to grow, to feel my chest expand. I was surprised by the feel of my biceps as I bent my arms. I flexed and watched as the biceps peaked. This was like a dream! The shirt was getting really tight, but my growing showed no sign of stopping. I had to get the shirt off before it strangled me! I struggled with it, pleased but afraid that my muscles seemed to get in the way. The shirt was like it was painted onto my flesh, and it was hard to get a grip on it.
I was feeling like a muscle-bound freak, but I loved it! The shirt ripped as I pulled it over my head, trying to watch my reflection as much as possible. Man, I loved how my chest muscles moved, how my abs, definitely not faint, writhed when I pulled the shirt over my head. I stretched, luxuriating in the feeling. I felt a sudden pain in my groin and looked down. I was hard, that was no surprise, but what was a surprise was the size of the bulge in the now-tight shorts. I hadn't expected this! My dick pointed down and almost poked out of the legs of the shorts, maybe ten inches, and it was still growing! I had to get the shorts off, and it was a struggle to get them over the tree-trunk thighs. My tree-trunk thighs. The belt felt tight, but I loosened it a few notches.
I stared at my reflection, amazed. Who was that muscle-hunk? Who was that huge man with those mountainous delts, flaring traps, pecs so huge and defined, you could almost see the muscle striations under the skin? Those abs, six segments that writhed as the muscle man moved. Who was that muscle-hunk with his huge arms were pushed out at freaky angles because of his back, arms thicker than most men's legs, legs thicker than tree-trunks, forcing him to take a wide-legged stance? Who was that muscle-man with the monster dick jutting out in front of him, pulling at his groin with its weight? I flexed my arms, and the muscle man flexed, his biceps stretching the skin, seeming out to burst. I pulled a most muscular, and the muscle man's body seemed to explode with muscle. That was me? That was me! Tentatively, I reached down and touched my dick, almost like I was afraid of it. Rock-hard, blood-hot, I gripped the rod, my hand not big enough to make it around the shaft anymore. Slowly I slid my grip up and down my new monster dick, amazed at how good it felt, enjoying the weight. My balls had grown, too, and with my other hand I cupped them, playing with the two small-orange-sized globes. As I watched myself jerk off in the mirror, the trembling stopped, but the muscle didn't. I was still a muscle hunk, stroking my monster dick. I reached up and felt my huge pecs, still stroking my dick with one hand, felt my abs. The new muscle felt so solid, so cool, so sexy, and the change had made me so horny, I came right then, my dick exploding with more cum than ever, splattering on the floor, the wall, the mirror. I was hard again instantly, and as I watched my dick inflate, I realised that life would never be the same again.