The Freshman 150/Fat + Muscle, Part 2 (Patreon)

March 15

Tucker Hay was about to knock on his coach’s office door, but he decided to go on in. The now 6’6”, 360-pound football player opened the door and ducked under the head jamb as he walked inside.

Coach Alston looked up from his computer and was shocked for two reasons: 1) his team members had always demonstrated their respect by knocking and waiting for a response, and here was Tucker entering like he owned the place. And 2) Tucker had clearly grown again in the last month – he was now simply enormous.

“Hey, Coach. I thought you would want to check out my progress,” said Tucker.

“Fuckin’ A,” replied Alston as he stared up at the behemoth in front of him. Tucker was wearing a tight white t-shirt that had to be at least a 5XL and athletic shorts so tight they resembled boxer-briefs (and which could not hide his giant cock).

“That’s funny, Coach. My friends have all started calling me Fuckin’ A instead of Tucker Hay. I guess my growth has been really impressive.”

Alston stood up and wanted to walk around the desk, but there was simply no room on the other side – Tucker was filling all the available space. He had been tall before the transformation, but his physique had never really stood out. Now, however, Tucker resembled a jacked-up version of a World’s Strongest Man contestant, and his body could not be ignored. “How much bigger are you?” asked Alston.

“40 more pounds in the past month,” replied Tucker. “Getting so huge everywhere. Check out my guns…I’ve gotten them up to 25 inches.”

Tucker flexed his left arm and placed it right in front of his coach’s eyes. Alston couldn’t see anything except the massive ball of steel in front of him. “Fuckin’ A,” he repeated. “It’s working better than I thought it would.”

“Damn right it is, Coach,” said Tucker as he dropped his arm. You should see the other players in the gym – so many of them are crazy jealous of my gains because they know I’m going to get so much playing time next year. They keep downing all their protein shakes and trying to lift as much as me, but they just cannot keep up. You don’t even need to take my stats this time because I have lots of volunteers who want to measure me.”

He rattled off a series of numbers that Alston jotted down:

• Height: 6’6” (“I got even fuckin' taller!”)
• Weight: 360
• Chest: 62”
• Gut: 57”
• Arms: 25”
• Thighs: 34”

“You didn’t say anything to anyone about how you got so big, did you?” asked Alston after writing down the last stat.

“Nah. Who’d believe me anyway?” replied Tucker. “Who would think that my giant pecs, which are so big now I can rest my water bottle on top of them, came out of that little vial you gave me two months ago? Who would believe me that this solid keg belly growing under my pecs also came from that same vial? Or my unbelievably thick quads, calves, and ass? Even my dick’s gotten way bigger, but I know you know that already ‘cause you couldn’t take your eyes off it when I first walked in.”

Alston started sweating a little. “My brother didn’t say anything about that to me, so I’m a little surprised. I’m sure your girlfriend must like it, though.”

Tucker shook his head. “Well, like I said last time, she wasn’t too keen on me growing, so we broke up a few weeks back. She’s dating Carl Stevens now.”

“Are you upset about that?” asked Alston. He was hoping to avoid any conflicts between Tucker and Carl, who would most likely be the starting quarterback next year.

“Not at all…um…how should I put this? Guess I’ll just be blunt. I didn’t have the biggest pecker before – I guess it was average size, but it looked smaller on me since I was a fairly big dude. But it fit just right into my Cheryl. But once I got bigger – and my cock grew to the size of your forearm – I could barely get the tip into her. So she’s much happier with Carl and his regular-sized cock, and I’m having fun with Mickey.”

“Mickey, as in Mickey Tipton? The center? I had no idea he was gay,” replied Alston, who was back to staring at the outline of Tucker’s cock in his shorts.

“He’s not. Mickey’s straight, but he loves ass play, and he’s got a giant hole that fits perfectly with me. So I’ve been fucking him several times a day. He cannot get enough of me, I’ll tell ya. Sometimes I think all my jizz is even making him bigger.”

“Several times a day?”

“Yeah!” said Tucker loudly. “Being this fuckin’ huge makes me so horny all the time – sometimes I cum just looking at myself in the mirror. I take a good look at all this bulk, do a little flexing, and then wham! My dick explodes like a volcano. Whatever was in that vial ramped up my sex drive along with my muscles and appetite.”

“Your body is impressive, Tuck. Is there anything else I can help you with?” asked Alston.

“Most definitely,” said Tucker as he took a step closer to his coach so that he was only inches away.

Alston could feel the heat radiating off the big man’s body and began to sweat even harder. “What’s that?”

Tucker leaned down and put his big paw on Alston’s ass, slowly rubbing his butt cheeks. If he had his other hand on the front, Tucker would have felt Alston’s cock getting hard.

“Coach, there’s something I really, really need from you. Something I just gotta have,” whispered Tucker, making sure his hot breath could be felt on Alston’s face. “Your wallet.”

Alston thought he had heard incorrectly, but in a speed not seen in most big men, Tucker quickly grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, took three credit cards, and tossed the wallet onto the desk. “What? What are you doing?” Alston asked.

“I appreciate you getting me all those old clothes last month, Coach, but I’m tired of wearing hand-me-downs. I want threads that really show off my body, and since you’re the one who convinced me to get huge, I figure you can chip in. I know you make a good amount of money working for the university, and once I win every fuckin’ game for you next year, you’ll probably end up coaching in the pros. So I’m gonna take this plastic and buy myself a few new outfits. Got it?”

Alston wasn’t sure how to respond, so he just nodded.

“Good. Now since I no longer really fit in your office, how about next month you come to me for a check-in? I’m in the weight room every afternoon, so bring your tight little bod over there and you can see how much more I’ve grown.”

Tucker gave one more flex of his bicep and left the office with the credit cards tucked inside his shorts.

April 15

Coach Alston opened the door to the free weight room and gasped at what he saw. Lying on the one of the benches, wearing nothing but a very stretched out jock, was an even bigger Tucker Hay. His body didn’t even look real – like a powerlifter morph one could see online, but the artist had taken things a little too far and made the muscles and gut too big. But there he was, almost naked, and bench pressing so much weight that Alston struggled to calculate the total. 900 pounds? Maybe 1000?

When Tucker finished, he sat up, smiled at Alston, and then stood up. Some of the other players on the team, who watching Tucker lift from a few feet away, sprang into action. Two of them began taking the plates off the barbell, and a third began wiping down the bench. A fourth – Mickey Tipton, Tucker’s bed partner – was writing numbers down on a clipboard. Unlike Tucker, Mickey and the other players were all dressed in t-shirts and gym shorts.

Tucker ignored his teammates, adjusted his cock (which looked as though it might bust through the stretchy fabric at any second, and lumbered over toward Alston. “Hey, Coach, what do you think? I’m looking good, right?”

Alston agreed, and he could feel his own cock throbbing with each step Tucker took – he also thought he could feel the floor rumbling each time the big man’s foot hit it. “Yeah, you’ve gotten bigger. But where are your clothes? I saw my credit card bill, and I know you’ve spent at least three grand on them this past month.”

Tucker laughed. “Yeah, I had some nice stuff, but I’ve already outgrown them. I’ve added 30 more pounds since you last saw me and nothing fits anymore, so I’m gonna go shopping again this week?”

“Nothing fits? Didn’t you think to get things a little baggy in case you got bigger?” asked Alston.

“Baggy? With this body? I want the world to see how huge I am, Coach, not conceal it. Everything I got was super tight and showed off all my mass. But then your special formula, along with all my eating and lifting, made everything bulge a little bigger and higher, and those triple-stitched seams could only hold so much. I blew ‘em all out.”

Alston pictured the Incredible Hulk doing the same, and any trace of anger in his mind was replaced with lust. “You’ve obviously gotten stronger, too.”

“Yeah, big time. The guys here are taking care of everything so I can focus on my workout. I just benched over 1,000 pounds. That’s an easy world record.”

“But you did it without a spotter, Tuck. You gotta be careful,” said Alston. “We can’t have you getting hurt.”

Tucker laughed again. “Coach, I need to let you in on a little secret. I can bench more than 1,000 pounds. I just didn’t want to freak the guys out by going too heavy, and I’m not even sure the bar could hold much more, but 1,000 is not a problem for me.”

Alston’s eyes grew wide. “Just how strong are you?”

“Remember last week when we had the windstorm, and those trees blew down on the west side of campus? Well, that wasn’t the wind. I wanted to test my power and actually was able to pull them from the ground with my bare hands, and they must weigh about 2,000 pounds each. I even military pressed them a few times just to get a good pump.”

If Alston hadn’t been hard already, he certainly was after hearing the story. “That’s impossible! The formula wasn’t supposed to change you this much.”

Tucker shrugged his unbelievably huge shoulders. “Maybe your brother is smarter than he thinks. Or maybe you just picked someone with really good DNA. But whatever happened, I’m getting into Superman levels of power. Nothing is gonna stop me when I get on the football field next fall. The other team could guard me with every one of their players – fuck, two or three teams could be guarding me all at once – and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“Fuckin A,” said Alston.

Tucker then snapped his fingers and Mickey, who had shaved red hair, a light beard and mustache, and pale freckled skin, came trotting over with his clipboard. Alston used to think Mickey was a pretty beefy guy at 6’2” and 290 pounds, but he looked like a child standing next to Tucker.

“Hey, Coach. Tuck said you’d want this information,” said Mickey as he handed Alston a slip of paper.

The numbers were mind-boggling:

• Height: 6’7”
• Weight: 390 (“Can you believe it? Up 120 pounds!”)
• Chest: 68”
• Gut: 60”
• Arms: 28”
• Thighs: 38”

Alston was about to say something, but he looked up to see Tucker and Mickey French kissing. Tucker had put his hands on the back of Mickey’s ass and was squeezing both cheeks aggressively, moving his fingers up lower and lower into the waistband of Mickey’s shorts. Mickey had his hands on Tucker’s monster gut and was rubbing it just as seductively, sometimes slipping down to brush up against Tucker’s cock. The men released after about two minutes of making out, and Mickey went back to help set up for Tucker’s next set.

“Um, I thought you said Mickey wasn’t gay?”

“He’s not,” said Tucker. “Turns out we’re both bi, and we both love big men. Unfortunately, my cock got too big for Mickey’s hole in the last few weeks, so we’re just doing blowjobs and handjobs until he can take some yoga classes and stretch things a little wider.”

Alston was again speechless at the development.

"I gotta get back to working out, Coach," said Tucker. "You can stay with the other guys and get your jollies watching me if you want, or go back to your office if you have work to do. Just know I'm going to keep Eating my Wheaties and growing bigger and bigger."

Tucker turned to check the work of his teammates and make sure they loaded enough weight on the squat rack. Alston hustled out of the gym and found the nearest restroom so he could lock himself in a stall and whack off three times - and considered a fourth - before cleaning up and heading back to work.