Jake Grows Pt. 3-5

By Vlad,

Part III

Now that I started thinking about, I really had no idea how Jake was going to fit into any of the clothes I owned…it was pretty much impossible I thought as I looked over at his mind-boggling frame. He had tossed me on the bed and was now rummaging through my fridge for whatever he could find. He had to squat down to look into my fridge, and his thighs popped, easily bigger around than my waist, supporting his huge upper body with no problem. I decided I had to go out real fast to at least grab a pair of shorts and a t-shirt or something.

“Jake, I’m going to have to go buy you some clothes, it won’t me longer than a few minutes…We have to find something that will at least sort of fit you until we can really go shopping properly. I don’t know how we’re going to find clothes for you…”, I said, a little exasperated. Of any problem to have, this was certainly one I didn’t mind having, but it was already presenting some interesting and unusual challenges. I really was going to have to take care of this human monstrosity on my limited budget (especially because I had quit my day job last night) at least until he gets drafted by an NFL team. Between buying new clothes (probably more to come later too if he kept growing at this rate) and keeping him well-fed (and as I was soon to find out, that is NOT an easy task) I was going to have to dip into my life savings.

“Don’t worry about it baby,” he said to me winking with a sandwich in his hand. He popped the whole thing into his mouth in one bite and proceeded to wash it down with milk straight from the carton. The whole gallon. “I don’t need clothes!”

“Hey, that was my lunch!”, I whined, but he just boomed a deep laugh and headed over to my pantry. I wasn’t sure if my floor was going to hold up under his huge, beefy feet supporting over 400lbs and hot jock beef, the way the entire apartment shook when he stomped around. “You can keep eating, but remember that I’m taking out to breakfast too, so don’t totally eat me out of house and home! Do you have anything in particular you want to wear?”

“Pretty much anything that fits, I guess…how will you know what to get though?” Jake said, this time reaching into a fresh bag of chips.

“Well, I guess maybe we should take some measurements”, I said with a huge grin. Any excuse for me to get closer to him was one which I would take, and this would give both of us a real sense for just how big he is.

“You don’t have to argue with me” he said as he finished the bag of chips in like 30 seconds. I better be fast with finding some clothes, because he really was going to eat everything in my apartment. We walked over to my full body mirror, but Jake was too big to fit…his head was cut off at the top, and it wasn’t wide enough by a long shot. He scratched one of his nipples and bounced his pecs as I brought the tape measure over, but then he stopped.

“Wait, I want to get a little pumped up before we figure this out. Allow me…”, and with that he turned to me and started flexing. I sat back on the couch watching, hard as a rock, and I even accidently drooled on myself as he neared the end. The perfect roundness of his biceps was so enthralling, he had perfect control over his huge pecs, his shoulders were like mountains, his neck was thicker than his head, and his legs were thicker than most tree trunks. When he was done, he looked ruddy with raw energy, and he was sweating slightly. He looked pumped, just a little bit, but you could tell. “Ok little guy, come on over and tell me how big I am” he said as he stomped his way over to me, towering over my diminutive stature. He was at least 250 pounds heavier than me, and he could do whatever he wanted with me, and I couldn’t be happier about that.

We went back over to the mirror, the tent in my pants leaking pre-cum, and I ran my hands over his slightly slick body and started to take measurements. 30” biceps, 24” forearms, 80” inch chest, 60” waist and 70” gut, 42” thighs (Jesus!), 27” calves, 28” neck, 6’9” tall…I took all of these measurements slowly, letting my hands glide softly over his perfect, hard white skin, a little furry here and there and silky smooth in other areas. His cock hung halfway down his thighs, and flaccid I measured it at a foot long. He watched me from above the whole time, grinning and teasing me with the occasional flex or chest bounce. I felt a rumbling in his stomach as he burped softly, but I knew it was a burp of hunger rather than satisfaction. His big belly needed to be fed.

“You know, I could help you with one more measurement” he said, as he reached his enormous meaty paw down to his big hose and started stroking. I helped out, cupping his balls and massaging gently, and he was hard in no time. 20” long and 14” around…Jesus. I gulped, desperate to take it all in right then and there, but Jake stopped me.

“Let’s wait until later, I don’t want to grow every 15 minutes…besides, then we’d have to do the measurements all over again” he said as he picked me up and carried me back over to the couch like a toy. He turned and started walking back to the kitchen, his big, round ass twitching back and forth, a big hard jock ass begging for it.

“I’ll be waiting here till you get back with the clothes. You better hurry before I eat everything you own!” he said with a wink, and opened my pantry again, accidently tearing the door off the hinges. “Oops…” he said and tore open a box of cookies. They would be gone in a few seconds.

I got up off the couch, threw some clothes on, and headed down to the used clothing store. They had to have something… I went to the oversized area and found some huge workout shorts (must have been from some fat guy trying to lose weight), and I was lucky enough to find a white, ribbed sleeveless t-shirt which came down to my knees. Lastly I found a big pair of sneakers which I thought might fit him…they looked long enough at least. These might actually work, I thought as I paid for them and thought about Jake eating all my food. Sometimes, he really was such a pain…

As I walked up to my apartment, I could hear Jack stomping around my room, and one of my neighbors poker her head out of the door. “Hey!”, she said looking at me, “what the hell is all that racket over in your building? You have an elephant over to visit or something?”

I rubbed the back of my head and said, “something like that…just a friend of mine came over to visit and he, uhm, has these heavy boots which he walks around in all the time, yeah. So I’ll tell him to take them off.” I slinked into my apartment as she gave me a dirty look, and turned around to see what had happened to my place.

There were wrappers and food remains everywhere, and it looks like he really did eat everything I had. I looked stunned as the door shut and Jake popped his meaty jowls out from my fridge, standing to his full height which still took me by surprise. He really was a giant.

“Hey there Matt! Boy, thanks for all the food, it was a good warmup for breakfast, I’m REALLY hungry now that I’ve whetted my appetite a little bit” he said rubbing his forearm against his mouth. I staggered over to look at the damage: there was literally nothing left in my fridge besides condiments, and all that remained in my pantry was an outdated can of chicken broth. He had got out my pots and pans to cook up whatever, and there were cans, containers, and banana peels strewn about the kitchen. He looked giddy and stupid and he looked down at me with a big grin, and he popped what was presumably the last bit of banana down his open mouth. He leaned over in my sink to get a last gulp of water, and made a loud, “ahh!” sound of satisfaction.

I stood in the middle of my kitchen, my jaw open. How could he still be hungry? How could he have eaten EVERYTHING? I looked at this gut, the seemingly bottomless pit of his stomach, and it looked a little more full, but not totally. He slapped his belly and rubbed it back and forth, the beefy weight of it rippling back and forth.

Not missing a beat, Jake said, “oh you got clothes for me!” and walked over to the bag which I dropped in the middle of my living room. He was reaching for the shirt when I said, “Jake, what, what…what have you done!? How did you eat all this? I was only gone for like 10 minutes!”

Jake rubbed the back of his head, his bicep bulging up next to his head and rough hands feeling over the rippled rolls on the back of his thick neck, and grinned sheepishly. “Well, I was hungry…” he said innocently, and looked sorry. “Look, when I make it big, I’ll pay you back for everything, don’t worry about it!” he said, and started unfolding his shirt.

He was right, now that I thought about it…not only was he a dream come true to begin with, but he would eventually be making tons of money when he made it into the NFL. I looked over at him as he slid the tight shirt over his incredibly broad shoulders, his arms and head struggling to find their respective holes, and I knew I loved him no matter what happened. In the meantime, I just had to be prepared to do whatever it takes to make him happy…well fed, well sexed, and clothed.

The shirt slid tightly over his huge chest, and then over his round, ball gut and stopped about halfway down. The bottom of his gut stuck out of the bottom, and the rest of it was skin tight. He breathed in deeply and twisted, and the sides and front of the shirt tore open. It looked sadly comical, and we both laughed when we saw how ridiculous he looked. He then struggled into the shorts, his cock pressed against it obscenely and going maybe halfway down his thighs, skin-tight of course. The shoes ended up being a complete failure…he tried to press them into his thick, fat feet but the seams of the shoe burst open. Guess he would have to go barefoot.

“Alright then, now that you’re…*snicker* “clothed”, we can go out to breakfast. I know an all-you-can-eat breakfast place…not the best food, but I think there’s no other way to feed you. You need more food, more fuel so you can grow bigger and stronger, like you need it.” I said as I tapped the gut hanging out of his shirt.

His stomached growled loudly, which I found impossible after eating my entire kitchen worth of food, but it did. He groaned softly with hunger, and said, “you don’t need to convince me! Let’s go!”

We got in the car, the balance of the car tipped to one side by Jake’s 400+lb bulk, and we set off for the diner. I don’t think they were going to like us very much, but what could they do about it? I chuckled at the thought of anyone trying to fuck with Jake as we pulled into the restaurant, Jake waddling in his skin-tight hand-me-down clothes as he ducked, turned sideways, and sucked in his gut to get through the door. It was going to be a great meal.

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Part IV

The entire restaurant stopped when Jake walked through the door. People froze with their mouths open, forks poised but unmoving as everyone stared at physical anomaly before them. A waitress overflowed a patron’s glass while pouring water, and a sausage link slipped from a customer’s fingers and onto their freshly laundered pants. Finally Jake cleared his throat awkwardly, and everything snapped back to life.

A waitress approached us tentatively, looking up at Jake with a look of awe, and directed us to a seat. She explained that this was an all-you-can-eat breakfast place where they served traditional American breakfast food and some lunch foods. There were probably 6 or 8 other people in there, some still staring openly at Jake. Jake’s gut growled angrily again as we sat down, and Jake groaned. As soon as the waitress left, Jake practically jumped up out of his booth (which he barely fit into) and headed for the buffet.

I started wondering just how much he was going to eat…and how angry the chef was going to get at us. I decided that I would have to leave a huge tip to cover for all the food. Jake came back with 2 plates full of pancakes, eggs, toast, sausage, hashbrowns, and some cheese and lunchmeats he found at the end of the line. I would have talked more with him if it wasn’t for the fact that his mouth was full the entire time.

After about half an hour, Jake was still going. The shirt has slipped up to his belly button as his gut continued to expand. He folded and stuffed another pancake into his mouth as he breathed deeply, his massive chest and stomach expanding even greater. Jake was pressed up against the table now that he was expanding even more, and when he got up to get more food, he found that he as stuck.

But no matter…before I could even say anything he grabbed the table, which was bolted to the floor, and quietly lifted, his delts, shoulders, and triceps all suddenly exploding to life. With ease I heard the bolts rip and pop out, and he pushed the table closer to me so he could have some room. He breathed out a heavy sigh and let his gut expand further…I heard more of his shirt and tight pants rip and he got up for more food.

Another half an hour later and Jake was finally slowing down. I had gone to the chef to explain that I would pay a few hundred dollars to cover it, but now the issue was that the chef was running out of ingredients…Jake had been eating so much, so fast. He had easily gone through a few dozen eggs, several stacks of pancakes, toast, a few gallons of whole milk, a couple packages of sausage, etc. He was a bottomless pit it seemed, as I looked over at him inhaling more food.

I whispered over to him, “Jake, dammit how much are you going to end up eating? They’re running out of food!”

Jake swallowed his toast and washed it down with another tall glass of milk and then sighed. He slouched down and put his hands behind his head, and he looked content. “Don’t worry, I’m almost done. This should last me a few hours anyway, at least until after my workout is over”, Jake said while bouncing his pecs over at me. He grinned as he saw me stare at them and lose focus. He gathered the rest of his food, snarfed down the rest of it, washed it down with his last glass of milk, and rose, ponderously towering over me, looking bigger than ever. He rubbed his belly and moaned, satisfied with his big meal. He seemed like he was swollen with size, ready to pop.

“Yes! I feel jacked and all ready to lift! Matt, we’re heading to the nearest gym pronto so I can convert all this energy into more MASS!” Jake yelled and lifted me up out of the booth. I paid the restaurant a few hundred dollars as Jake carried me out, and we were soon on our way the gym for Jake to test his strength. I wasn’t really sure just how strong he was going to be, but I was pretty much ready for anything.

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Part V

We crammed into the car just barely again, Jake literally squeezing his mass into the passenger seat. He has to tuck his big legs against his chest and gut just to fit in the front seat, even with the seat all the way back. My poor car was riding pretty low with all the extra weight on the right side of the car, and I was worrying about what this might be doing to my tires and suspension.

After that breakfast, Jake had to be weighing at least 425lbs if not more. He was buzzing happily about finally getting back to the gym, and how much he thought he could lift. He was telling me about how before he had met me, back when he was “only” 350lbs, his max bench was something like 800, squat was just over 1000, and deadlift was around 700, but that he had no idea how much he could do now that he had added a shocking 75 pounds and 4 inches. Jake looked at me and squeezed his left nipple with his sausage fingers and moaned, thinking about just how strong he was, and I almost ran the car into an old woman on the sidewalk.

“St-stop that!”, I said, almost drooling at the sight of this monster in my car teasing me with his size. I wanted him so bad, but I had to wait a little longer. I knew that when he got to the NFL and couldn’t afford to be growing all the time, that my life was going to be a world of holding back and lots of masturbating. At that point, Jake’s enormous, beefy left hand reached for me rock-hard cock and started rubbing it roughly, as I tried to keep the car on the road.

I was almost to the most hard-core gym I knew of in town, some place called “The Stockyard”…only reason I knew where it was because it was next to a good noodle place. I went there pretty often, half because the ramen was pretty good, half because I’d get big powerlifters and bodybuilders come in there every so often. But they were nothing compared to the beast who was thisclose to making me come on the road.

“Oh yeah Matt, I can’t wait to see how strong I am. I know I’m going to exceed every expectation you can think of”, Jake said, still rubbing my crotch, enveloping my entire package in one of his monstrous paws. “These hands can lift anything…these guns are unstoppable!” he said while flexing his other arm, leaning over and getting in my face. This time I almost ran into a fire hydrant…damn good thing there were no cops around, and that we were finally at The Stockyard.

Jake mercifully let me go, leaving a small wet stop of pre-cum on my pants, and started to get out of the car…first his huge feet, then his big thighs, then ducking out of the door and scraping his mega-wide shoulders against the doorframe. He got stuck though…the door wasn’t wide enough for him. He tried just standing up, and I swear I could feel that side of the car rise off the ground a little, then he slid through as the frame of the door bent with a creak and stood to his full height, the car only coming up to his belly button. He stretched and sauntered into the gym.

The atmosphere in the gym was what I expected: it smelled like BO, metal, and man, sort of like a wrestling practice room but even stronger. The guy at the desk gave me a very skeptical look, until he looked back and saw the giant ducking through the doorway behind me. “Hi”, I said perhaps a little too excitedly, “we’d like to work out today!”

The guy at the desk, a lean bodybuilder type who I usually would have been impressed with, laughed at me and said, “Who the fuck do you think you are? This is the Stockyard, you gotta prove yourself before you get in here!” The guy, whose name card indicated was Brian, led us back to a room, away from the rest of the people working out (I’ll get back to them later). The room was simple: there was a 150lb dumbbell, a bench press with 700lbs loaded up, and another set with 900lbs set up, presumably for squatting. Um, holy shit, maybe we had bit off more than we could chew here…

“Lift that, or get out, bitches!” Brian said, looking weirdly triumphant, like he didn’t want us to come into his little club. I looked back at Jake, who rolled his thick neck, popped his knuckles (which caused his forearms to blow up like a water balloon), and said, “No problem. This should be a decent warm-up.”

“Yeah, you talk big, but…” Brian said, but then trailed off as Jake grabbed the 150lb dumbbell with one hand and lifted it off the ground and over his head like it was no big deal. “Feels pretty good…” Jake said and he started doing bicep curls, his right arm pumping up more and more with every rep. “I hope you guys have some heavier stuff though, this’ll only get my blood flowing” he said as he switched over to overhead tricep extensions. His shoulder and triceps popped out from his smooth white skin, swelling as blood continued to fill them up. Jake put the weight down and rubbed his big right bicep, feeling its weight and size in his rough jock hand.

Brian looked a little shocked, and stammer “Ye-yeah, well that’s just the first one, curl-jockey! Bench and squat are still going to own you!” What a little punk, I thought to myself as Jake, more bloated than I’d ever seen him, stood over the bench, his legs spread, and plopped his mass onto the bench. He slammed his back onto the bench, which was comically narrow to his super-wide shoulders, and he grabbed the bar, which looked skinning in his hands. He easily lifted, lowered, and started again, each rep picture perfect, his breathing deep and rhythmic, a slight sheen showing on his shirtless body as he past 10 reps. Brian’s mouth dropped open, as Jake hit 20 reps, then jumped up off the bench and stood, towering over both of us.

His whole torso was red and swollen, bigger than I’d ever seen it, and his chest rose and fell slowly as he breathed. He looked over at me, winked, and pulsed his ruddy, swollen pecs. I almost fainted. The room started to stink of Jake’s man-must, an erotic, powerful aroma which made me feel dizzy.

Brian couldn’t really muster anything coherent, so Jake proceeded over to the squat. He shimmied to work his wide shoulders underneath the bar with huge stacks of weight on both ends, and stood up with very little effort. He squatted, slowly, methodically, staring at me the whole time, looking intense, focused, invincible. His legs started to visibly bloat, and the shorts which were barely holding him in as it was ripped some more. Sweat started to form on his forehead, and soon he was shining with a glowing radiance. After a dozen or so squats, he put the rack back in place with a huge crash, and he exhaled heavily. He shook out both of his quads and flexed them both, this time the tiny shorts giving way completely, revealing his monstrous cock and low-hanging balls. It was all I could do to not jump on him right there and then.