“I can’t stop growing” Jonas muttered between mouthfuls.
My mouth was hanging open in disbelief ,I was giving the strangest interview of my life. The man in front of me was this overly-muscled, hairy, half-naked monster. The same guy who only a year or ago had been a top player of a New York City gay kickball league and maybe 180 lbs at best. Now he was enormous, closed off and holed up in his Brooklyn apartment. Jonas hadn’t shaved in weeks, his dark hair had grown long, flowing onto his rounded shoulders. And he sat there in only tight boxer briefs, his bloated, heavy muscles on full display. Normally I’d be turned on by a massively muscular guy, by this monumental hypermasculinity, but instead I was growing concerned. Here was a man who had ballooned up into a massive roided bear of a man in one year, seemingly in denial about it.
From a respectable athletic guy into a freakishly beefy offseason mess in one year!
“All I’ve seen you do since I got here is eat” I replied. “You’ve been eating non-stop since I got here almost an hour ago.”
“I can’t stop. You don’t understand, it’s not a choice.” He replied in frustration. Jonas looked like he was eating some sort of thick gruel, but he assured me it was oatmeal and protein powder. He apologized for his shirtlessness, claiming he was too big for his clothes.. I was tempted to believe him. His once lean build was now so overblown, roided out to an almost grotesque degree that I was amaze he still fit in his apartment. Jonas’ hairy and ample muscle gut sat in his lap as he ate. Massive, fur covered pecs loomed over it, looking like heavy slabs of muscle. His tremendously muscular arms tensed and flexed with each movement. I imagined he had to weigh somewhere north 300 lbs by now. In my whole life I had scarcely seen a man as large.
I was a part time writer covering gay sport events for the New Gotham Weekly, a local gay publication. Sports had always been a little passion of mine, and I figure this would be a fun and light side-job. Something to do in my spare time. I had actually met Jonas when he lead his kickball team marching in pride two years back, when he was a different man. He was popular, a 20-something handsome gay boy with jet black hair and a permanent Five O’Clock shadow. He could have stepped right out of some telenovela. And then I met him again when his team won the big kickball division match.I even made a little feature about it. And before all this, he was so classically good looking.
When I heard that “hot Jonas” had dropped out of kickball to do bodybuilding it piqued my interest. I decided that I wanted to know what had happened to him. Sightings of him last year in town confirmed that the one-time 180 pound scenester had developed into a serious bodybuilder, and he continued to get bigger and bigger as the months went by. But it had been about 6 months since anyone had even seen him out or heard a word from him. He had cut off communication with his friends, his family. No one knew what was going on. Only the most minimal of communication had been returned. Someone told me he was “concentrating on his bodybuilding career”. That's when I came in. I found his email and I contacted him saying I wanted to interview him, thinking it might be interesting to do a story about a former leading kickball player who’d turned to bodybuilding, and write a bit about life as a bodybuilder, maybe he’d look hot with all the extra muscle, I thought- but I had no idea what I was getting into.
Jonas was now this enormous shut-in. He had apparently quit his job, stopped talking to friends, stopped using facebook and only left his cramped one bedroom in Brooklyn to hit the gym. And here I showed up thinking this would be some sweet little puff piece about a particularly sexy ex-kickballer turned bodybuilder.
Jonas looked me right at me with these soulful eyes when I asked him about his disappearance from the scene. “I couldn’t explain to people what was happening to me. I couldn’t explain why I had to go home, why I had to go to the gym. My friends were freaking out about the changes, but no one could stop it from happening. The nagging, the comments, it just made everything worse. I couldn’t be around those people anymore, it was too… stressful.”
Jonas shifted his substantial weight and lifted his hulking body out of the chair. He lumbered towards the fridge to grab something else to eat. He pulled out a prepared meal of rice and chicken and began shoveling food again.
“How long have you been living like this?” I asked.
“It started a little over a year ago. It wasn’t serious at first, I thought. I just started eating all the time and my training went into overdrive. I really liked the muscle I put on the first few months. But then the injections started”
“Injections?” I asked
“Yes, injections. And that's when I really started blowing up. I felt like I was growing larger every day. I stopped liking it. I stopped wanting to get bigger. Right around the time I hit 220 I realized I was getting too big even for kickball. I tried to stop growing, I did everything I thought of, but I can’t stop. Nothing can make me stop”
“If you don’t like it, why’d you continue with the injections?”
“I told you already” he said, flustered, “I can’t stop”
I scribbled some notes to look busy, buying time. “Are you going to try and compete?” I asked sheepishly.
I saw a little hint of temper rise up in his eyes “You don’t understand. I don’t want this, I never wanted this” he said, gesturing down at his massive pecs. His rounded shoulders bulged and flexed with each movement of his arms.
Jonas was still eating and I was more puzzled than ever. “If you don’t want to get bigger... why do you keep eating?” I asked again, halfheartedly expecting a different response.
“Listen, This is not possible. I don’t control this, like I said. I’m eating but I can’t stop. it won’t stop.”
That's when I started feeling a little alarmed. I was tempted to try something, but I was unsure how’d he react. “Well what if I…” I said, reaching over to grab the tupperware out of his hands. His huge, powerful build immediately shifted and pulled away, out of my reach. “No, even if you tried, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking it back.” No doubt, I thought. This man could crush me in a fight.
I sat there trying to let his words weigh on me. What I had halfheartedly expected to be a small, potentially fun fluff piece about a former gay kickball captain was turning into something else entirely. His compulsion, this all-consuming obsession with eating and lifting, could it really be entirely outside of his own mental control? I paused for a moment and an unsettling silence hung in the air of that stale apartment.
“Have you seen a psychologist?” I asked in a gentle tone.
“It wouldn’t do any good” he quickly snapped back. “This is not a natural thing, this is a curse.” Jonas had finished scarfing down his meal and sat up quickly to grab more food. I couldn’t help but be surprised by how quickly a man of his size moved.
“You’re going to outgrow that kitchen” I said to him half jokingly, hoping to lighten the tone.
“I’m outgrowing everything.” He sounded deadly serious. “I have no clothes that fit me anymore. I can’t run anymore and everything feels smaller.I don’t know when this is going to stop.”
“If you’re upset about getting bigger, why haven’t you seen a doctor about it? Or a phscolo…”
“I told you already” he interrupted. It’s just not going to happen.” He sounded more defeated than angry.
“Ok, just tell me how you got into this lifting then” I asked patiently. I never thought i’d actually sit for a serious interview for my part time job.
“I’ve been lifting for years. But this. All this… “ Jonas said, gesturing at his huge build. “This started last year. I met a man, an older guy. We were out at a bar. A big guy, muscular, older. We were chatting in the bar. I admired his muscles and then he told me he’d love to see me bulk up. I thought it was a weird comment so I just started to ignore him. He was really persistent, telling me he wanted to see me get huge and all this weird stuff. I mean, I liked his arms, he must have noticed, but then he just latched on. I don’t know what happened, but not long after I noticed I was eating a lot. It was subtle at first, but I just found myself eating, and cooking and I started taking up lifting seriously. I don’t know what he did to me. I still can’t figure out how he did it to me, but he’s made me like this.”
Jonas had a seriousness to his voice that startled me. Here in front of me was a gargantuan overfed, overgrown bodybuilder who I knew was lifting on his own and eating endlessly on his own, and yet, there was a total conviction in what he said. He didn’t own any responsibility for his current actions, something that made me worry for his own mental state.
“So if you quit your job, how are you paying for this apartment and all this food?”
Jonas paused a little before taking another swig of a protein shake. “I have a donor, he’s paying rent. I get food delivered.”
“Who’s the donor. Is it the guy you met? the older gentleman?”
“I…. I might be saying too much.” He muttered. Then Jonas leaning his bulky torso in close to mine. I felt the heat coming off his huge body. “Listen” he whispered “I don’t want anything else to happen. Maybe we shouldn't talk about this.” When I felt his powerful arm against my shoulder I got chills down my spine. This man was huge, and probably out of his mind.
I took that as my queue to leave. The guy had gone insane with steroids. That was the only conclusion I could think of. I thanked Jonas for his time and I politely mentioned that I would never publish anything without his approval, fully knowing that I had nothing to run anyway.
Headline: Young gay man gets addicted to steroids, loses his fucking mind.
Nah, that wouldn’t work. I headed back home to finish a little feature about Roller Derby girls. I had to get back to my real job too. I tried to shrug off the encounter with Jonas and go about my work that week, but on Thursday, a full week later, I got an email from him. He wanted another interview. “I have to tell you what's happening because, I don’t know what's going to happen to me. Lets meet this weekend.”
I wanted to ignore it. This Jonas kid was blown up so big that he go into a rage and really hurt me if he wanted. Part of me was too attracted to the idea that this might be a chance for some real journalism, or at least a juicy story.
That following Saturday I found myself walking up the stairs of Jonas’ Brooklyn brownstone.
__________________________
When Jonas greeted me at his door he was again shirtless, hairy with a fork in hand. Infact he looked noticeably bigger. Something about the width of his tremendous shoulders, or his massive traps. His pecs looked so heavy and his rounded, hairy muscle gut barrelled outwards He looked even more imposing than a week ago. Standing in front of me was a muscle freak in the farthest depths of the offseason. He must have noticed my astonishment.
Between bites from a meal prepped in a tupperware container Jonas said “I grew” in a meek voice.
“Damn! I can tell”
His bowling ball shoulders bulged and flexed as he moved “I’m up another 10 lbs this week. I’m over 320 lbs right now.” I couldn’t tell if he was bragging or complaining. He turned around and opened the door to invite me in. He was wearing jumbo sized sweatpants that clung tightly to his massive muscled ass. I couldn’t help but stare at his huge legs either.
Jonas ushered me into his dimly lit apartment, and aside from the two foot tall pile of used tupperware, his place actually looked pretty neat. I sat down at the little round table from the week before. It looked like my chair hadn’t moved.
I made some offhand comment about the tidying up and he responded. “My… master had a cleaning lady in.” He said “He didn’t like how dirty it was getting.”
Master. So that's what this kind of relationship was. He had some sugar daddy funding his bodybuilding. That explained so much.
“So tell me a little bit more about your master. He’s the guy who’s getting your food delivered, right?”
The big man nodded. “He’s the one who’s making me like this.” Jonas casually flexed his massive bicep, which had to be at least 23” around.
I found myself gawking again. God he looked enormous. Everything on his physique was so massive and bloated with muscle.
“He knows I don’t want to be any bigger. He knows I want to stop growing” Jonas began “But he doesn’t care. It turns him on to watch me outgrow my clothes, to see me grow.”
“So you just keep eating” I said.
“I told you before” he said between mouthfuls. “This isn’t a choice.”
I tried to figure out what angle I could use on this story. “Man hypnotises young gay man in a Master/muscle slave relationship”. I mused the idea of how my sports column could be stretched to cover this. “Master/Slave Bonding leads to Heavyweight Bodybuilding”
“So can I meet this master of yours?” I asked.
“You will. But he’s not here yet.” Something about his tone sounded slightly ominous.
“How much are you eating every day?” I asked
“I have no idea. I don’t do it consciously. It’s just happening. And My fridge is so full that master got me a second one several months ago” He replied. I found myself still staring as his bulging body as he spoke. The largest man I’d ever seen had actually gotten visibly larger in a week.
“I’m sorry, you said you gained ten pounds in a week?”
“Yes, and it's been like this for several weeks. I’ve been growing like this for the last month. Before that I was gaining at a slower rate. Master has me on something new, something experimental. He says there's no limit to how big I’ll get now.” He had a solemn look about him. “He takes care of me, but this is what he wants. I never dreamed I’d end up like this.”
“Why not try and get out of it?”
“Get out of it? like No, I can’t, I’ll never escape master. I don’t want to.” Jonas replied
“Well, what if you just get outside more instead? Being inside all day can’t be healthy.” I realized I was probably one of this man’s only current connections to the outside world.
“I used to have a life.” Jonas continued “ I used to have hobbies, you now. Now that's all gone. All I do is eat and lift and sleep. I don’t have time for anything else. And I don’t want people I know seeing me like this.”
“Jonas, they’re going to have to see you at some point. You can’t hide from your friends and family forever. Are you scared of what they’ll say?” I asked.
“I know what they’ll say. They’ll freak out. They’ll say they don’t recognize me. And I’m sure it’s true. Sometimes I don’t even recognize myself. I’m too big and they’ll remind me. I don’t want to see anyone who knew me smaller than this” He voice dropped and grew more somber “I had to switch gyms several months ago because I felt uncomfortable getting so big around the regulars who knew me. Last month I saw an ex of mine on the way to my new gym. I tried to ignore him, but I know he saw me. I saw the look on his face.”
“So it really bothers you to have people see you like this, and makes you self conscious?” I asked, perplexed by the cognitive dissonance that must have been going through his mind.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. Like I told you, at first it was great, but after I started getting big it became too much and I wanted it to stop.”
“But you’ve continued the injections, and this insane eating habit.” I said. Jonas frowned. He was troubled.
“How many times do I have to tell you? This is not my choice.” Jonas said in an exasperated tone. “I have no power over this” He again paused for a second and looked down at his feet.“Maybe someday you’ll get it... “ There was silence for a moment. before he lifted his head. “I want to show you something.” He said.
The massive overfed weightlifter sauntered over to his laptop and brought it to me. Suddenly he was avoiding eye contact with me when he spoke.
“These are the progress pics master takes. I thought you’d like to see them.” Jonas said
He set the laptop on the table in front of me. Sure enough there was an entire photo album of progress pictures. The first one I saw showed a side by side comparison in four panels of his growth. The first picture showed a muscular looking Jonah who looked far smaller than his current state. “220 lbs” it read. The next pic showed him at 250 lbs and he had definitely filled out into the size of a heavyweight bodybuilder. His arms, shoulders, pecs had all noticeably grown in the photos.The third panel photo showed him at 280 lbs, looking massive, bulked up way into offseason size, with his rounded thick midsection, bloated heavy muscles and incredibly thick pecs. The fourth picture showed him in about his current state, labeled 315 lbs. His overgrown physique was practically too large for the photo.
“This is 7 months difference” Jonas said. “ The third pic was just last month. I’m gaining faster than ever. Master has started a new routine of injections. They’re making me blimp up. I’m getting way too huge. I can’t even move around right anymore. I’m getting too chunky too.” He said in a sad voice, patting his furry muscle belly for effect. “But I can’t stop. “
I was blown away by the gallery of photos. There were more of them, taken from the side, taken from behind, all with the same lighting and the same background. These were all meticulously photographed and put together. And it was insane to look at. You could see every how the mass had just piled onto his from in the last months. I couldn't help but get a little turned on looking at this transformation on the screen. He had gone from looking like a gym bro to an overroided monster in a record breaking time.
“How often does he take these?” I asked
“Master takes them twice a week. You can see them all there.” There was a little video composite of 58 photos. I watched the video and my boner sprang to life. I can’t ever recall being turned on by something like that before, but it definitely pushed some button. Just seeing his arms and chest and shoulders swell and grow with each photo…. I was I watching Jonas morph on screen from 220 to his present size.
“He took the most recent photos last night.” Jonas said.
I lost track of time while I was looking at his photos. I kept replaying the video. Jonas just kept eating away in the kitchen while I preoccupied myself with this gallery of photos. I don’t know how long it had been but when I looked up, but I noticed it was almost getting dark. Jonas was nowhere to be seen.
When I finally called out his name I heard the floorboards creak in the back of his apartment, and then heavy footfalls. He came walking out, as wide as the hallway. “Oh you’re awake” He seemed suddenly embarrassed by his own words.
I lifted my groggy head to look up at his massive silhouette. Had I actually dozed off? EIther way, It was about time for me to get going. I picked up my things and thanked Jonas again for inviting me over. I still wasn’t sure what he or I got out of our second encounter. Again, I didn’t have anything to work with, nothing to make a story out of, but Jonas seemed determined to have me listen to his story. Maybe the big guy was just lonely, since he had cut everyone else out of his life. I guess I was more than happy to indulge him.
I headed out a second time and headed to my gym. I guess Jonas inspired me, I hit those weights hard. I was disappointed that I didn’t get to meet Jonas’ master. That was an important component of the story that was missing. He was a shadowy figure- some older muscular man, that’s all I had.
Nothing else remarkable happened that evening. I carried the prepped meals that were waiting for me in the hall into my apartment and put them in my fridge. I pulled my brand new half sized fridge inside, even though it was still in the box it came in.
Eric came over a little later and helped me install my new half-sized fridge. I was lucky to have a strong guy like him who could help me out. I didn’t bother bringing up Jonas, but he did tell me about his new routine, and a new cycle I should try. I found myself munching on my prepped meals all night long. And while Eric and I didn’t know many of the same people, we still chit-chatted and gossipped like old friends well into the night.