Encounters With Brad (Part 2) (Patreon)

I never got the written warning I was expecting, or even a casual comment about my behavior with Brad the last time. Drew assigned me to another project, literally measuring fungus and cataloging their smell, and I had to assume it was a direct punishment for getting hot-and-bothered over the reduced bodybuilder who waggled his junk in my direction.

I was also too cowardly to ask where they were moving Brad for the next phase of his procedure, or how long it would last, how he was doing--any of the questions that clouded my head every morning I signed in and walked past Drew’s office.

That’s why it came as a shock the morning I got my orders. It was a Wednesday. I had to report to an underground facility and collect data on specimen B. Hollibaugh. My first impulse was to pop into Drew’s office to thank him. Thankfully I resisted that impulse.

My clearance actually got bumped up to Epsilon level just so I could get to Brad’s living space. As the lit-up numbers on the elevator wall blinked down to the sub-basement levels, I rubbed my fingers against my palms. My hands were actually sweaty with anticipation. When was the last time I got excited about seeing a guy? That closeted wrestler in college?

Despite having been briefed on Brad’s current state, I couldn’t believe his living space when I swiped my way in. Brad now lived in what looked like a large terrarium. It was L-shaped, about six feet wide on the long sides and three feet high. Inside the glass walls they had set up one side to look like rather spartan living spaces (a bed the size of a phone, a few marshmallow-sized chairs and a little screen that I assumed he could watch TV on). The other side was a tiny gym. Brad was, of course, working out when I approached. 

He was just as massively muscled as I remembered him (perhaps moreso) but, of course, doll-sized now. My first thought: he’s smaller than my foot; if I stepped on him I’d cover him entirely. That surprised me, as did the sudden erection that thought produced.

Brad, pressing dumbbells overhead with a manic ferocity, tossed the dumbbells to the ground  with a shrill roar as he finished. His tiny vocal chords made what was meant to be an aggressive act seem downright adorable. Still, despite his tiny size he still stomped around his mini-gym with authority and a cocky swagger. He had been supplied with gym clothes for his current size but, just like everything else I had seen them in, they only barely contained his beefed-up body.

He leaned against the aquarium wall, wiped a torrent of sweat from his forehead and then pointed up to me. “In the other room,” he chirped, “there’s canisters of protein shake. Can you grab me one?”

Sure enough I saw stacks of tiny cylinders on the other side of the aquarium. I grabbed one between my thumb and forefinger and handed it down to him. From its design I guessed they intended it to be held comfortably in one of his hands, but to Brad it was the size of a big thermos. He held it with both hands as he chugged it back. I wondered if he had been slighlty bigger before but had shrunk even more.

“Yo,” he said when he finished. He held up his arms. “Yank this shirt off me will ya? With the pump I got there’s no way I’m getting it off myself.” My fingers grazed his rock-hard musclegut as I grabbed the bottom of the shirt and peeled it up and off. It was soaked. I squeezed it in my fingers and rolled it around. I resisted the urge to pop it in my mouth and suck it dry.

“I was wondering when I was gonna see you again,” he shouted up at me. He had one hand on his hip, his stance tilted to the side as he rubbed his heaving pecs with his other hand. God, if I wanted I could reach down and smush him with one hand! I couldn’t get that thought out of my head.

“I need to… measure you…” I said, feeling suddenly awkward.

“Well you’re probably going to have to pick me up right? Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” He winked at me and my awkwardness increased exponentially. My fingers tingled at the idea of touching him. The reality did not disappoint: his muscles felt like plump pimples under my fingers, his whole body the size of a doll but surprisingly dense and weighty in my hands. I couldn’t believe the heat blasting out of his body, like a little hand warmer. Still, every movement of his tiny form hammered home exactly how powerful he was despite his size. I had no doubt that had he wanted to pry my grip off his body he could have done it with ease.

My pinky finger grazed the front of his shorts. It was such a minor act but I was instantly aware of what I had done, doubly so when his dick slipped out the bottom of his shorts. Clearly they hadn’t given him tiny underwear to wear (or he had just chosen not to). He grinned at me, unphased.

I set him down on the table next to the digital scale and the tape measure. He yanked his shorts down and stepped out of them. When he reached down to pick them up I got an amazing view of his bulging ass. I wanted so badly to slip a pinky right into that crack. I didn’t think he would have even minded, to be honest.

“Don’t tell me what it says,” he said as he stepped on the digital scale, so I didn’t. “I mean, I’m dealing with this whole thing okay, but… a man’s gotta keep his pride, right?”

“It can’t be easy,” I said as I recorded data. Doubtless the room was under surveillance and I was not supposed to be fraternizing with the specimen, but Brad’s bravado was contagious. If he could wield that much swagger when he was smaller than a Ken doll, why couldn’t I? “Once this phase really kicks into gear your… reduced stature… won’t bother you as much, I’m sure of it.”

“So when’s it all start?” he said. He flexed his disproportionately massive arms and made his pecs bounce. “I mean, I’ve made some gains, but you guys said that if you shrunk me down to this size you could triple the amount of muscle on my body.”

“That’s correct,” I said as I measured his height. 6.1 inches. He was now almost three inches shorter than his dick was at his original size.

“You guys said triple. I was guaranteed.”

“That’s what’s going to happen,” I said, checking off boxes down my clipboard. The projections I had seen actually predicted a 376% increase in muscle mass. That was what all this was about: the compounds used for the procedure were both very rare and volatile in large quantities. Plus, the shrinking procedure made Brad’s cells much more malleable and receptive to the procedure. So in other words, by making him small we were going to make him ENORMOUS.

“You have any idea how much triple the muscle is going to be on THIS body?” he said, gesturing around his form, flexing each of his muscles in turn.

I would have been distracted by the act if I hadn’t been surprised by the last line on my data sheet: semen sample.

“I’m gonna be the biggest human being that ever lived,” he said, mostly to himself.

I reread the sheet. That couldn’t be right, but there it was. I had to get this tiny musclehunk to cum for me.

“I’ll be a mountain of muscle,” Brad said dreamily. “Those Olympia fucks are going to be worshipping my dirty jockstraps. They’ll be begging to be in pics with me and I’ll swat them away like puny little flies…”

I needed him to stop talking, because the idea of this miniature man fantasizing about pushing around professional bodybuilders was getting me hard at the same time it was dawning on me that I had to make him cum.

“There’s, uh… one last thing I need to do…” I said. On the table next to the digital scale I saw a small item the size of a thimble. No doubt that’s what I would have to collect the sample in.

“What, you need me to blow a load or something?” he chuckled. “Oh, shit, you do, don’t you?”

“I can turn around,” I said.

“No fucking way!” Brad said. He stretched like he was getting ready to deadlift. “You’re gonna sit here and watch this, little man!” God, the fact that he called ME little lit my fire like nothing else. He started stroking his cock like it was the most natural thing in the world, flexing with his free arm, sniffing his little musclepits, smiling up at me, grinding his hips in the air… I was mesmerized.

“Join in if you want,” he groaned as he went to town, flogging that cock that got so big he looked like a little tripod.

“I can’t,” I said, although every cell in my body was screaming to just do it.

“Suit yourself,” he said, groaning as his hips started bucking more quickly. He closed his eyes, licked his lips, moaned louder and longer. “Fuck,” he said. “I’m gonna need help,” he said, not breaking his rhythm.

“Help?!” I asked, exasperated. What did he want me to do, suck his dick for him? (God I hoped he wanted me to suck his dick for him.)

He turned around and bent over, arching his back. “My ass. Rub it,” he said. My hand shaking, I gently reached down and touched his ass, which clenched as I made contact. I would remember the feeling of that tensed muscular glute for the rest of my life. “Fuck yeah!” he groaned. “Feel those fucking hammies!” I rubbed my fingers gently up and down the inside of his massive thighs, thinking the whole time I might faint.

Brad spun around, obviously dangerously close to cumming. “Rub these big fucking pecs you little bitch!” he demanded, and immediately my hands were on his pecs, stroking the heaving mounds of tiny muscle. They bounced as I made contact. I could tell the thing was about to happen, so I sat back to watch. I only remembered the specimen cup at the last minute.

In a panic, I scooped little Brad’s bulging body in my hands and turned him upside down, aiming his rock hard throbbing cock right into the specimen cup as it fired. “FUUUUUUUUCK YEEEAAAAAAH!” he shouted as his cock fired off rope after roper, thankfully getting mostly caught in the cup. His body went limp for a moment in the afterglow and then it tensed up again. “That’s enough,” he said. “Put me down.” I did as I was told.

“Y’know, I never thought that would’ve done it for me, getting picked up like that,” Brad said as he wiped the last tendrils of cum drooling from his cock head. “But fuck, man, that really drove me over the edge.”

“Me too,” I said breathily, immediately regretting it. But he smiled.

I collected my things and put Brad back in his living space. He nodded up at me as I was about to leave. “Next time you see me, expect a lot more of all this,” he said, pointing to his muscles while flexing them demonstratively. I grinned. I couldn’t wait to see what he would look like next.

“I want you to be my main guy from now on,” Brad said. “That Drew guy? He’s a closet case if I’d ever seen one.”

I paused. What was Drew doing in here? He ran the project but he wasn’t supposed to be having any interactions with the specimen.

“I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I can tell when a guy wants more than just a peek, if you know what I mean. Guy like you asks for what he wants. That Drew guys just stares and drools and jerks it later. I’m not a fan of that shit.”

I nodded, processing everything slowly. “I’ll see what I can do.” In truth there was nothing I could do about where and when I was assigned.

“Oh, I’ll talk to your superiors. I’m not used to hearing the word no, and luckily I usually don’t.”