Description Not only has Owen lost his job after promising scientific miracles to the military, his friend Greg falls afoul of one of his experiments.
|Updated||15 Jun 2018|
“You’ve got ten minutes to pack up your stuff and get out of here. You’re done, Doctor!”
“No, no, no. You don’t understand. I’m so close!” Dr. Owen Nex stammered. “This work will change your military. The world even.”
Owen’s boss leaned in close, his coffee breath puffing into the lanky scientist’s face. “If I had a dollar for every plucky Ph.D. that told me his idea would change the world then I would have enough funding for your project. But that’s not the case. Months of work and almost nothing to show for it. You’re done.” The general turned briskly and stomped away.
Owen opened his mouth to protest, to yell to the hulking man quickly retreating down the corridor, but then he let it shut. He was done and his dream would never reach fruition. He looked around his lab. notebooks, tubes, and large genetic material processing machines littered the cramped room. “So close,” he whispered to himself.
He picked up a crate that had come that morning. PURIFIED OX DNA it read in bold letters on the side. It was his last desperate attempt to make his ‘super-serum’ work. The serum had been his obsession since high school. He was always skinny, puny in fact, and he hated that. But he hated lifting weights more. He knew that even the best steroids required weightlifting and a high calorie diet, so it was his mission to create a new kind of steroid that could bypass all that. Promising results during his PhD research netted him a contract with the government. A contract that was now expired.
The crate was empty, he had tossed the ox DNA into the synthesizer with the rest of his half-baked serum—a final move that had ended once again in failure. He tossed some notebooks into the crate along with some personal items and turned to leave the lab and his dream forever.
The synthesizer lit up and the cover slid open. A small cuvette of red liquid slid out. It was property of the government now, Owen thought. Not like it would do anything anyways…
“Fuck the government.” He took his water bottle out of the crate and emptied it into the drain. “They get nothing,” he said to no one in particular as he dumped the red liquid into the bottle. “This is mine.”
Owen dropped the crate into the trunk of his car and screeched out of the parking lot.
“How was work?” Owen’s boyfriend Greg asked over the car’s Bluetooth.
“I got fired.”
“What!? Those assholes…” Greg was silent for a second. Come on home babe, I was just about to go for a run, but I can wait for you.”
“No go. You know I don’t like running anyways. Besides, it’s raining.”
“Fine, but we’re going out when I get back. You know I can’t stand you sulking around the house.” Owen grunted his approval and hung up the call.
By the time he pulled into the small bungalow that him and his partner shared the sun had begun to set and the rain had stopped. He popped his trunk and stepped around the car to retrieve his things. The air smelled metallic, electrical.
Owen let the crate thud onto the kitchen table. He wasn’t going to pay attention to it anytime soon, he thought, broken dreams could wait. He pulled a bottle of beer out of the fridge, snapped the lid off, and settled on the couch. Not long after he heard the front door click and Greg came stepping in. “I’m drenched!” He called from the other room. Owen didn’t look up from his beer. “Hey Greg.”
“Ooh a beer sounds good,” Greg said, motioning to the beer cap on the counter. Let me get dried off and hydrated and I’ll come join you. Owen heard his boyfriend rip a few paper towels off the roll and the tap come on.
“That was a good run,” he muttered to the living room in between sips of water. “I know it’s not really your thing, but maybe you could come with me someday?”
“Maybe,” Owen answered.
“Or maybe we can start going to the gym! I know you’ve got a thing for muscular guys. It’s tragic that you ended up with a beanpole runner like me. That’ll never change, but it might be fun. What do you say?”
“Oh okay.” Greg wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. “I’m still sweating like crazy, I’m going to have a shower.” Owen didn’t answer so Greg put the empty water bottle down and headed upstairs.
He began panting as he made his way up. “Must be really winded from that run…” He thought. The stairs creaked under his footsteps, each one slightly louder than the last. “Damn, when did I get so out of shape?” He pulled the collar of his t-shirt, it felt tight on his neck. He noticed with his arm reaching up that his sleeves were also unusually tight, the material rode up his arms. “What?!” He hissed to himself as he looked at his arms in front of him. The back of each arm and hand were covered in matted dark hair and thick corded veins. His forearms bulged meatily in a way that was totally foreign to him.
“Gah!” He grabbed his thickening, hairy arm and made a few lumbering steps into the bathroom, barely noticing the loud slaps of his larger feet. He slammed the door and quickly locked it before staring into the mirror.
“Woah.” Greg held on the counter to keep his balance. He was definitely bigger. But how?! His eyes moved up his torso. His shirt was pushed forward tightly by thick abs with slab-like pecs overhanging them. They were still pushing out, creating a meaty shelf with a deep hairy crevice between them just becoming visible at his straining collar. He felt the material of the shirt straining as his back widened and his shoulders slowly throbbed into beefy boulders. Each sleeve cut into his ballooning biceps and triceps, making the bicep vein on each arm pop even more.
He shut his eyes and grimaced as he heard the fabric begin to tear. He gasped in relief as the shirt finally fell away, in shreds. Breathing heavily Greg fixed his eyes on his hulking body. Each pec looked thick and full of hard muscle. They were covered in the same dark hair that he noticed on his arms. His jaw was also darkened with a short dark beard. He moved his arm up to rub it, grazing his thickened neck in the process. “What the fuck….” He grumbled in a deep, powerful voice.
He then noticed that his running shorts had also fallen away in shreds. His briefs strained thinly over his mighty legs and ass. Already decent sized from years of running, his calves had thickened to immense proportions, each muscle easily bigger than his head, covered in thick veins and even thicker hair. He cupped a meaty pec in his hand and gave it a flex. The muscle bounced powerfully under his palm. “Oh shit….”
Owen set the empty beer bottle on their coffee table and shut his eyes. Greg was taking a long time in the shower. He got up to get another beer. He cracked the cap off and let it tumble onto the kitchen table. It landed on it’s side and rolled until it clinked off the metal of Owen’s water bottle from work and fell on its side. Owen’s eyes narrowed at the bottle. It was uncapped, empty. “Oh shit.”
Owen leapt up the stairs two at a time. Before pounding on the bathroom door. “Greg?!” There was no sound of water running, just heavy breathing. “You okay?”
Owen recoiled at the deep brutish sound from the other side of the door. “How about you let me in? What’s going on?” Silence, only punctuated by Greg’s heavy breaths from the bathroom.
Finally Owen heard the click of the lock. He opened the door slowly. He smelled Greg before he saw him. A dense musky smell that frightened the small man and aroused him. Then he was face to face with two of the most muscled tree trunk legs and thickest muscle gut he had ever seen. He looked up to see his gargantuan beast of a boyfriend. The enormous man’s head almost brushed the ceiling, his dark dense beard tangled with his chest hair as he struggled to look over his pecs and gut to see his tiny boyfriend.
“You did this,” he boomed at the small scientist.
“Yes,” he gulped. “I mean no. I don’t know! What the hell Greg?” He stammered for words, half noticing the throbbing tent forming in his pants. “What are we going to do? You’re a monster! Oh god, I’m so sorry.”
Greg half smiled, half sneered. He crouched down, making his massive calves flare out even bigger and coming eye level with his boyfriend. “It’s not so bad.” He moved an arm next to Owen’s head and flexed it tightly. He watched as the muscle balled up into a massive mound bigger than Owen’s head. Owen’s heart leapt into his throat as he caught the sharp smell emanating from Greg’s hairy pit and felt heat radiating from his massive veiny biceps.
“In fact,” Greg growled playfully into Owen’s ear. “I want more.”