Giant Chad: The Story Continues (Patreon)

[Read Part 1 of this story here.]

Cancelling my subscription to Giant Chad. Models get faker with every video. Sound quality is shit. This site used to be hot, not hackneyed.

You can tell when camsluts get desperate because they get naked and quit trying. Not impressed by Giant Chad’s “dick”--which certainly isn’t giant!

Remember when Giant Chad used to be hot? Lay off the roids, Kong. He used to stomp, now he waddles!

Chad fumed as he read the reviews of the latest video on his site on an iPad mini that, to him, was the size of a movie screen. Pressing his hands against the tablet he swiped off the screen and starting slapping his meaty palms at the onscreen keyboard, typing out an all-caps response, one letter at a time.

LISTEN SHITSTAIN, ANY TIME YOU WANT TO LIVE OUT YOUR FANTASY OF BEING SPLATTERED UNDER MY SHOE YOU JUST DROP BY. I DON’T NEED YOUR SUBSCRIPTION, RUNT.

He slapped ENTER and folded his massive arms--an almost impossible act with the size he’d added to his pecs.

***Error: Comments have been disabled for this account***

“DISABLED?” he screamed. “IT’S MY FUCKING WEBSITE!” He ran to the side of the iPad and flipped it to the ground, stomping on it. He didn’t even pause to see if he’d cracked the screen.

He stomped across the aquarium he had made his home, ready to punch through the glass walls (a feat that broke his fingers the first week he lived there; ¼” thick glass was too much for a 6 inch man, even one as powerfully muscled as he was). He dropped to the ground and did a hundred pushups (at least, as far down as he could go, his massive hitting the floor long before he was at the bottom of the rep). Afterward he grabbed his barbell (a tinker toy with three wheels slid on either end), hoisted it overhead and did squats until his rage subsided. He tossed the “weight” down and exhaled deeply. With a clear head he returned to the face-down iPad and lifted it upright again, leaning it against the wall of the aquarium.

He was grateful the screen hadn’t cracked. He broke the last one in a similar tantrum and Dean told him they didn’t have the money to have it replaced. Then one day, when Chad was feeling particularly down, Dean surprised him with this new one to raise his spirits. Dean was incredibly sweet that way, and Chad knew he had to be more grateful for him.

In the reflection of the iPad’s darkened screen Chad took a look at himself. Since he’d escaped the Gulliver Club and come to live with Dean he’d had to rethink his training. Dean put together a makeshift gym he built from toys: Legos, tinker toys and hardened clay. Chad even had a He-Man action figure (which stood a good inch taller than he was, a fact that always stoked his ire) that he liked to press overhead of deadlift off the floor. It made him feel powerful--as long as he ignored the fact that his opponent was just a toy, and that it outsized him. Dean also got his hands on some androgel (since neither of them could find a needle that wouldn’t leave a massive bullet-hole in Chad’s reduced body). One container lasted forever, and Chad lathered it on in high doses. And at his size Chad could put back massive amounts of food that only cost Dean pennies.

All this resulted in massive gains. Chad’s muscles grew like crazy. Dean estimated that, at full height, Chad would have weighed over 300 pounds, almost every bit of it rock-hard. Ironically, getting shrunk down like this had really allowed him to put on size. But his subscribers hated it. Now his lats were so thick that he couldn’t even put his arms down. His pecs jutted out in front of him, so thick and deep that he could barely clap his hands. His wide legs gave him a clumsy gait, and his traps had swollen up around his head. Even his face had taken on a thicker, simian appearance, losing all of the “good-looking muscle hunk” look that made his brand so popular.

“You think these giant-lovers would love me more now that I was bigger,” he sneered through gritted teeth as he reread the nasty comments about his appearance. They used camera angles and forced perspective to hide the fact that he’d gotten so small. As far as his fans knew, he just went overboard on the juice. But for some reason the change had made his subscriptions plummet.

He had to distract himself until Dean came home. He swiped away and started typing out a text to Dean. “Where U at? I’m hungry and bored.” He waited for a READ receipt but it never popped up.

Growing impatient, he checked his e-mail. The first message was a notice that his domain name, Giantchad.com, was expiring. “Click here to renew now!” He pressed the button but got an error message. “No credit card on file.” What a pain in the ass. He couldn’t just reach into his wallet; his credit cards were half his height. Dean kept Chad’s things safe, although lately he had become increasingly withholding with them.

To pass the time he did lunges around his aquarium, benched He-Man a number of times, then decided to jerk off to release tension. When he was nice and hard he decided to turn on the iPad’s camera. “Give those giant-worshipping little fucks a show,” he growled. His dick didn’t look smaller, he thought--maybe in proportion to the rest of his body, since he’d gotten so bigger. Obviously now that each of his quads had doubled in size, his dick was going to look smaller. All the testosterone in his system had caused his balls to shrivel into two little nuggets, each barely bigger than a grape. He tried to ignore the fact that yet another part of him had been shrunk. Small price to pay for all the muscle he’d added.

When he fired out his load he felt all his tension dissolve. He felt like he came a gallon! He looked at the massive load in his cupped hand, impressed with himself, until it dawned on him that the big wad of spunk he held was no bigger than a cherry pit. He turned around to face the iPad, still recording. The edges of the aquarium were clearly visible, as well as the rest of the room, out of focus but clearly immense to the man onscreen. No way could he post this video to his site.

Disappointed and feeling the exhaustion that follows such an intense orgasm, Chad lumbered over to his little bed (a fucking DOLL bed he thought as he pulled the fake comforter over his bulging body), rolled over, and went to sleep.

*

Chad slept deeply, not even moving until the dreams started again: he was trapped in the Gulliver Club, at the mercy of his giant tormenters showering him with their filthy loads and trying to drown him in his drinks. They slapped him with cocks that were bigger than he was mocked him for his helplessness. The nightmare ended as all of them did, as a gigantic drooling man forced him past his lips and swallowed him back into darkness.

Chad woke flailing his thick limbs wildly before he realized that he was safe again. He was relieved to hear the front door unlocking: Dean was home! Chad wiped the sweat from his forehead, relieved. Sometimes after his nightmares Dean would plug the bathroom sink and make him a warm bubble bath after massaging his aching muscles with scented oils.

He had to remember who broke into the Gulliver Club to save him. He had to be nicer to Dean, no matter how he felt. He leapt to his feet, eyes wide, waiting to see his guardian angel. His heart leapt as Dean, big as a building to Chad, walk through the door.

But someone was with him.

“Chad?” Dean said into the apartment like he was looking for a lost cat. “We need to have a talk.”

Dean was tall, athletic and pretty. The guy next to him only came up to his shoulder and had weaselly features. Chad thought he saw the guy’s nose twitch as they approached.

Looming over the aquarium, Dean introduced them. “Chad, this is Orville. Orville, this is Chad.”

“Holy shit,” Orville said with a rodent-like sneer. “I mean, I knew he was real and all but… seeing him like this… can I hold him?” Orville reached for Chad but Dean grabbed his hand and pulled it away.

“Chad, Orville and I have been talking awhile,” Dean said in a measured tone. This was clearly a speech he had practiced. “He’s going to be moving in with us.”

“No,” Chad said. He folded his arms and flared out his lats, trying to puff up as much as possible. “No fucking way.”

“Chad, we already decided--”

“YOU decided?” Chad roared. He pounded his own chest. “Since when am I not an equal partner here?”

“Holy shit!” Orville said. “His voice is hilarious! He sounds like a chipmunk!”

Dean put a hand on Orville’s chest to quiet him down. “Look, Chad, the money from your site is pretty much gone and I’ve dumped all my savings into legal fees. We’ve either got to get a roommate or drop our lawsuit of the Gulliver Club.”

Chad stared up at Orville, silently daring the punk to try to touch him again. “We don’t need a roommate. I’ve got some ideas for the site. We’ll be fine.” After a tense moment, he added, “and this bullshit about not talking to me about this is fucking… unacceptable.”

“Look, Chad,” Orville started, “it’s a good thing you brought up ideas for your website because Dean and I have been talking. I’ve got a little experience in content creation and Dean’s tapped me as a consultant for your little… project.”

“It’s not a LITTLE project,” Chad said.

“Well, anyway…” Orville said. He looked to Dean, who seemed just as uncomfortable as he was but offered no help. “We’re going to retool things. I think with me living here and the new website idea, things are really going to turn around.”

Chad considered running at the wall of the aquarium full speed, crashing through it and slicing open Orville’s legs with a jagged shard of glass as he fell. Even that would be too nice for that piece of shit.

“Maybe if we showed him…” Orville said.

Dean shook his head and pushed Orville back. “Look, Chad, this wasn’t the best way to break this to you, I admit. And honestly… just talking to you has been tough lately. You get angry at me for everything, like this is all my fault. After all I’ve done.”

“Let’s show him the website!” Orville said. “I think he’ll like it.”

“What fucking website?” Chad said.

“Look,” Dean said, “let’s let this all marinate for a bit. Because Orville IS living here. And things are going to change a little bit. And you don’t have to fight it, Chad. I want you to happy, man. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. But let’s just let this all settle in…” He turned to Orville. “I’ll help you move your things in.”

Orville grinned down at Chad. “You think big Mr. Bodybuilder down there could lend us a hand? Big guy like that could probably take care of some spare change, my car keys… Maybe even a whole tube of toothpaste all by himself!”

Dean shook his head. “Orville, we talked about those kinds of jokes, man.”

“Sorry, man,” Orville said. “I thought it’d be funny. Jesus, look at the little guy! His whole body’s turning beet red!”

Chad was shaking furiously at everything that had gone on. He couldn’t believe Dean had done this to him. He didn’t think he could get through one single day with that skeevy loser living in his house.

The two started to walk away. “Hey!” Chad yelled. “Hey, I’m not done!” Dean ignored him and left the room. Orville paused and turned around.

“Look, my man, when I’ve got all my stuff in I’ll show you the site. You’re gonna love TeenyTinyChad.com, man!”

After he had left, it took Chad a good five minutes to compose himself enough to type in the web address. What showed up was a short video of him with the He-Man figure on his back, his soft dick flopping back and forth as he did squat after squat.

“Subscribe to see more!”