12 DAYS OF GROWTHMAS – December 21st (Patreon)

Home alone, in the middle of the night, Max was in a weird state between wakefulness and sleep. His mind was running at lightning speed, unable to stop thinking about the last three weeks. His brain was constantly reminding him how much more of him there was now, and playing scenes from the last few days at the gym.

Earlier that night, after almost 48 hours of nonstop sex, Max had finally taken a shower and gone out to eat. Even though he was off work now until January, he decided to head back to the little bakery. Max knew that his colleagues probably had some baked goods that hadn’t been sold over the course of the day. With grocery stores already closed and his fridge at home empty, it was his best chance to fill his stomach.

When he came in through the back entrance, he found the bakery empty, the lights dim.

“Anybody here?” His deep voice echoed in the empty kitchen.

He was over a foot taller now than when he’d last been in here, and the place felt so much smaller now. He found the box with the day’s leftovers next to the fridge and dove in head first.

“Mm, the amount of food that goes to waste here every day…it isn’t right. But...more for me!”

Over the next hour, his mouth and hands never stopped moving. He stuffed his face with pound after pound of food, until his huge muscle belly was bulging.

“Damn, I’ve never been this hungry before. This body needs so much energy!”

When he was finished, he opened his pants to give his gut some room. His eager cock slipped out along with it.

“Woah, big guy. Haven’t you had enough already? We just fucked the whole gym for two days straight.”

His large dick didn’t answer, but its apple-sized head was covered in pre-cum, and Max could see it pulsating in the weak light.

“Yeah,” Max said. “We did inflate those roid heads pretty good, didn’t we?”

Max caught the eyes of his reflection in the big industrial fridge. He was sitting next to the empty box of food on the ground and his cock was pulsing against his enormous muscle belly. It gave him an idea.

“Fuck, if this works…” he whispered into the darkness of the little kitchen.

“He’s going to do it,” one of the gnomes whispered to the other from the top of the fridge.

Max was lowering his mouth down onto his 18-incher, and almost immediately cum began to flood his mouth in powerful waves.

“Damn, he’s such a great cummer!”

“He’s got great control,” the other gnome commented.

“Look at how big his hands are when he massages that huge ballsack.”

“He can’t inflate himself, can he?”

“Honestly? No fucking idea. No one’s ever tried before. But look—the ring is glowing on his finger again!”

Their voices were too small, and Max’s own brutish grunts were too loud, for him to hear. As he gulped down rope after rope of semen from his swollen sack, he could only think about one thing. Grow, grow, grow!

Still thirsty, he pressed his balls together, praying for another gallon of muscle growth juice. He had never felt more full in his life.

He moaned as the massive cock slipped from his mouth with a wet slurp, covering him in three final spurts of thick white spunk. He shook his deflated balls.

“Come on! Inflate me! Make me bigger! Make me crazy huge!”

Max looked down at his even more distended abdomen—he knew it was there, even though could hardly see its sphere over his two juicy pecs—and waited impatiently.

“Damn, it looks like he can only inflate other people.”

“Maybe it just takes him a while longer? He really gorged himself on that food. Maybe it’s blocking his system.”

Max felt tired and disappointed. He had been dreaming of the spectacle he would make when he returned to the gym as an ever greater mountain of a man, ready to inflate his friends even further.

He left the bakery through the back door, not even bothering to zip his pants back up. As he made his way through the snow, his soft anaconda hung loose, swinging mesmerizingly back and forth.

Finally, Max made it back home. After stripping his clothes off, he took another look into the mirror and noticed that his cum gut still hadn’t gone down.

“I love this off-season look,” he said, stroking the nine inches of monster cock hanging down from his groin, “but why can’t I pump myself bigger like I can everyone else? Damn, I hope tomorrow brings me something new. It’s almost Christmas, and I still have time to get way bigger. I wanna leave everyone else at the gym in the dust.”

He turned off the lights and headed to bed.

Hours later, his chest felt tight, as if someone were standing on it. His legs twitched uncontrollably, and his cock was out of control, growing hard and then soft again every few minutes.

At four in the morning, he flipped on the lights and threw off the blanket.

His feet were dangling off the edge of the mattress. He had grown again.

“Yes!! Look at this!”

He tumbled out of bed, scrambling to get a look at himself in the mirror. Standing, Max very nearly hit his head against the ceiling. He didn’t realize just how big he had gotten.

“He looks like he’s over eight feet tall now,” one of the gnomes marvelled from the shadows of the bathroom.

“…and fucking hot too.”

Just looking at his new reflection was enough to get Max hard. He was now 8’2’’ tall, and had put at least another an inch or two on his cock. His chest and belly, his arms and legs, everything was now covered in a thick layer of dark hair. He was even more manly than before—as if the almost two feet of cock hadn’t made that clear already.

With trembling hands, he squeezed his pecs. They had been big already, but now they were enormous; almost twice as big as before: a twin set of ripe watermelons, jiggling right under his nose, pressing up against his chin. He grabbed them hard and moaned ecstatically.

“Fuck, I’m becoming a bodybuilding tit monster. Holy shit, they feel so tight!”

Max found his bottle-cap-shaped nipples with his fingers and noticed that they were as wet as his cockhead.

His mind wasn’t even able to process all the new stimuli flowing in. He lifted his arms and almost crushed his skull between his own monstrous biceps. The forests of hair under his arms were so dense and dark smelled so good that he almost shot right there and then. He wanted to press his head into his own pits so badly, and couldn’t until he had Jonas there to do it for him.

“Fuck! I can’t wait for Christmas to come.”

December 23rd