Funhouse pt. 5

by *inflatedmuscle

Funhouse: the Finale Pt 5

"Mitch, wake up! Christ man, wake the fuck up!"

The voice was familiar. Somebody was talking to him. The bodybuilder's eye lids felt heavy. Sleep had a strong hold on him. He didn't want to wake up.

The voice said, "Shit he's closing his eyes again. Bro, open your eyes and look at me! We're in some serious shit here."

Another voice chimed in louder. "Fuck, Mitch wake your fat ass up and talk to us."

Mitch recognized that voice. It was Cam. Who was that skinny fuck to call him fat ass? The big man opened his eyes but the light was so bright he shut them again. He wanted to tell Cam to shut up and let him sleep. He tried to say shut up but his tongue felt too heavy. Hell everything felt too heavy. He turned up his finger to flip his buddy off but couldn't raise his arm. Panicked Mitch forced his eyes open against the glare and looked out at his lifeless numb arm. His arm was strapped down. Both of his arms were strapped down with heavy leather straps around his wrists. The big man tried to pull away from the restraints. He was strapped down to a padded table with his arms straight out at his sides. The table was almost standing on end but tilted back just far enough for his body to rest against it. 'What the fuck?' his mind reeled. 'Where am I?'

Mitch tried to raise his head off the padded surface behind him but it too was strapped down with a wide padded piece around his forehead. He shifted his eyes down toward his numb body only to have his view blocked by his massive chest and shoulders. He felt so heavy like someone had forced him into some crazy suit that weighed 300 pounds and now he was trapped in it. As he glanced down he noticed a tan mound rising below his chest where his flat ripped abs should be. He looked at his strapped down arms again and even they looked bloated and fat as if his muscles had swelled up like sponges and receded under thickened skin. Mitch couldn't make sense of this wild dream he had woke to but wanted to fall back asleep and wake up for real.

Just then the man's body was racked with a loud belch and he could taste protein shake in his mouth. In a flash, things came back to him: the night out with his pals; the funhouse; the wild ride through the cave and then the massive feeding by the machine. Mitch jerked his head up hard trying to get away from the table but he was bound tight. He arched his back. As he struggled he felt a thick band around his hips under his belly that now felt like a huge water balloon. "Let me out of here!" He roared.

Cam's voice came to him again. "Mitch just relax. You're all right. Just take a deep breath and calm down."

Mitch did as he was told and felt himself slipping into sleep again. Then he heard Chris's voice, "Geez, you didn't come to in a rage like that."

Mitch opened his eyes hoping to see his tough buddy. He didn't see Chris. There was some big guy there with long hair looking at him but it wasn't Chris. Well he knew Cam was there. He looked to his right. He almost jumped. Where he hoped to find his best friend was a muscle bound freak. The guy was a fucking monster. He was looking at Mitch as best he could. The man was strapped down as he was but his eyes were shifted toward Mitch.

Mitch was breathing hard. He jerked his wrists against the bands again. The big man yelled, "Cam help me. I'm right here."

The bodybuilder shifted his eyes back to the first hulk on his left. The man was strapped down too. His long hair was in his face. The dark suit he wore was blistered with swollen muscle but even more horrifying was the man's suit was open to the waist and he had another appendage hanging out of it. Mitch tried to raise his head for a better look. He couldn't see the whole thing but it must have been a third leg or something. It looked twelve inches around and hung lifeless from the man's thick body. 'Who are these freaks?' his foggy mind wondered.

"Cam where are you? Help me!" Mitch yelled again.

The man beside him said, "I'm right here. Look at me."

Mitch looked to where the voice came. All he saw was the 500 pound muscle blimp who looked so muscle bound he could barely move. The man's eyes were focused on Mitch. Then when his lips moved Cam's voice came out. "It's me Mitch."

"Whha…what happened to you?"

"Fuck if I know. There was this weight room and I was waiting for you so I started lifting. Then I got this mist in my face…"

The other man broke in, "Save your reunions for later we got to get out of here and find Boomer."

Mitch looked over to see the big man to his left blow his hair away from his face as he looked at the band around his left wrist. As his fine hair briefly floated away from his sweaty face Mitch recognized the beefy biker. The man was twisting his hand back and forth as he tried to slip it out of the belt holding it down. There was a trickle of blood snaking down his wrist but the man was making progress as he had pulled the fat base of his hand into the belt. He grunted and swore under his breath as he worked.

Mitch's senses were clearing as he realized the three men were strapped down facing one another in a cinderblock walled room. The walls and ceiling were black. Fluorescent lights above illuminated the circle while all else receded into the dark.

Mitch tried to turn his wrists as Chris was but they were tight. He tried to pull his wrists forward in a curling motion like he was doing flies. It was in essence an isometric move but he felt his bloated muscles strain and flex against the bands but little else. He tried again and again hoping to break the straps free of the metal posts they were anchored to but all his effort resulted in was a heavy sweat and fierce muscle pump.

With a grunt, Chris finally pulled his right hand out of the strap. He was breathing hard as he dropped his hand down and started to release the wide belt at his waist.

Mitch and Cam started telling him to hurry up as their impatience grew with freedom so near. He fumbled with the wide belt but realizing it would be easier to release with two hands, Chris tried to reach his other wrist to free it but the belt at his waist held him too tightly to reach. He returned to the big belt and pulling slack enough to free one of the two pins holding the buckle closed.

Mitch couldn't help but notice the shaft of flesh hanging out of Chris's suit. "Are they doing experiments on us or something?"

Chris glanced up, "I don't think this has anything to do with science buddy." He popped one pin free and started on the second.

"Well, how'd you grow that third leg?" Mitch was exhausted from straining against his bands.

Chris grunted, "Somebody beat you with the stupid stick?"

Cam shifted his eyes over at Mitch, "Dude, it's his dick."

Mitch craned his head against the band for a better look. Sure enough where he had expected to find a feeble excuse for a foot hanging at the end of the boneless fleshy leg was Cam's uncircumcised dick head. The thing was huge almost as big as the biker's real head. He could see two grapefruit sized nuts straining the leather of his suit near his waist

"I…I…what….how the fu…"

"Shut up about it. We got to get out of here so we can turn back to normal!" Chris barked. There was no way he was telling these guys about what he had been through that night. No way in hell! He would come up with some bullshit but there was no way he was a going to tell them he was stuck in some fucked up version of a gay bar with a giant throbbing hard-on that wouldn't stop. At least his monster dick was calm now. All Chris could remember was trying to stroke some relief between the legs of that muscle bound mannequin when he passed out. Next thing he knew he woke up strapped down with his pals nearby. He knew he hadn't gotten there by himself so there was somebody behind this who had witnessed his actions earlier that night. Chris might just have to kill him if he got the chance.

With a clatter, Chris freed the belt at his waist. This step raised the tension in the room as freedom grew closer. He began working on the other wrist as his buddies encouraged him to hurry.

"Quiet", Cam hissed. "Did you hear that?"

The men paused as far off came the sound of a metal door creaking open and closed, followed by footsteps. "Somebody is coming! Hurry up!"

Chris fumbled with the buckle with fingers that felt bloated and thick. "Fuck… fuck…", he mumbled as the belt slipped out of his fingers. They could hear the high pitched laugh and constant chatter of whomever was coming. The guy sounded crazy. He rambled on in a sing-song sort of way broken with periods of wild laughter.

Chris fumbled to free himself but with the footsteps getting closer and closer he knew there wasn't time. He loosely buckled the belt at his waist again and slid his free hand back into the tight strap as far as it would go hoping no one would notice that it was no longer cinched in about his wrist.

The door swung open with a loud creak before a man burst into the room. The man leaped into the room with a wild laugh. "What have we here? Company!" He waddled around the men sometimes laughing wildly or sometimes serious as he poked and examined their blown up forms. "My collection is growing!" He said almost quietly as he looked the men up and down and then broke into his manic laughter again.

The old friends weren't the only ones sporting wildly muscled builds, this guy was a real freak. He wore one of those old school unitard muscle suits. His was green with black question marks all over it. The legs disappeared into high top wrestling shoes of the same color while the top fit like a tank top with thick straps that sunk into his meaty shoulders and blistered pecs. As Mitch studied the man who held them captive it was obvious he had some sort of Joker fixation but the guy was built like Bane. He was fuckin' huge all over. Huge round shoulders with a bull neck and thick traps; arms that while not ripped were packed with bloated muscle ended with broad meaty hands. The freak's pecs strained the front of his suit like a couple of volleyballs. His trunk was solid with thick bands of muscles coating his waist like armor. He had a big round muscled ass and legs to match. The mass of his legs shifted over one another with each step. For all practical purposes it looked like the freak had pulled on his stupid spandex suit and then somehow blown up his body until he nearly ripped it to pieces before he stopped.

His body wasn't the only thing freaky about the guy. His face was fucked up. He wore thin white make up like a clown with black around his eyes. His long dirty blond hair was greasy and wavy, practically standing on end as he was always nervously running his fingers through it. It was his mouth and cheeks that were really messed up. The man had a broad mouth with thick curled up lips. Mitch had never seen such big lips. The upper one rolled up toward his flat nose while his lower one curled down toward his dimpled chin, exposing the inside of his mouth as if his fat lips were too bloated to close tightly over his teeth. As the man spoke he always licked his lips nervously and grimaced and stretched his mouth into odd shapes that only highlighted how strange they were. His cheeks were fat and round as if he had them stuffed with food he was saving for later. The effect was scary as if the flesh around his mouth had somehow bloated up distorting his strong masculine features. To make matters worse the freak wore red lipstick that stretched out over his bloated cheeks drawing more attention to his deformity – that is if it was a deformity? Like his face paint his makeup around his mouth was thin and smeared as the man frequently ran his hands over his face as his odd lips tended to not catch his slobber when he spoke. When he spoke he shifted from manic giddiness to mumbled grunts as if his mind was constantly doing summersaults.

Chris shifted his eyes over to Mitch as he furrowed his brows in some unspoken communication. Mitch wasn't sure what he was trying to tell him but assumed he was hoping for a distraction. Mitch looked at the freak running a finger over Cam's massive arm as his buddy shuddered and stared straight ahead.

"Who are you and why are we here?" Mitch demanded.

The freak glanced up and said manically, "Puddentane, ask me again and I'll tell you the same", then the wild laughter, again. The man suddenly stopped and barked, "Why are you here, stud? You kiddies are the ones who broke into my humble home."

Mitch stammered not knowing what to say to that but Cam broke in, "Then let us go and you will never see us again. We're sorry about the break in… we didn't realize you lived here. You are right, sir; we are in the wrong and I apologize."

The freak jumped surprisingly high in the air for someone of his size. "I like a muscle freak with manners. He called me sir! I feel all goose pimplely but no, no, no I can't do that." He sort of trailed off at the end. He raised a huge arm to his head with some effort and ran a finger through his hair above one ear as if he was lost in thought. "No no you would like that… no, no not gonna happen. Can't let you go, no no no."

Chris noticed a group of huge men standing in the shadows by the door for the first time. There were three of them and they were as jacked as the clown who held them captive. These guys had easily passed the 400 pound mark and were so muscled that their bloated mounds were deformed as they pressed together straining for space under their skin. Chris recognized one as a bouncer from the gay bar. His plan of escape suddenly got more complicated. Surprise was on his side with the crazed clown but how could he fight off those three bulls too.

He studied the trio as they stood near the door almost as lifeless as the bouncers had been near the cave. Then Chris recognized one. It was Mark Gardener; he had been missing for a year or more. He had had a bad break up with a girlfriend and people thought he had just skipped town; that is everybody but his worried parents. Without thinking Chris yelled, "Mark, you've got to help us. Mark it's me Chris."

The beefed up hometown boy just stood motionless as if he was deaf.

Cam and Mitch shifted their eyes between the young hulk and Chris as if he was nuts. Chris said, "That's Mark Gardener. Eddie's little brother. He disappeared last summer or fall."

Cam glanced over, "Nah, Mark is a little kid."

"He was when we left for college dumb ass. He must be seventeen or eighteen now." Mitch mumbled as he looked at the man, amazed at the mass he carried for one so young.

The clown faced man gave off a hyena laugh as he clapped his hands. The hulk in question waddled to his side shirtless and dressed in black spandex pants and thick soled boots. His dark Italian looks were handsome and appeared older than his years. His big eyes were heavily lidded as if he were drugged as he stood with his huge chest stuck out and his 24" arms behind his back like a solder.

Cam said amazed as he finally recognized his old pal's baby brother. "Did he lift?" He glanced over at Chris with a startled look.

Chris mumbled, "Hell no, he was a long distance runner and was skinny as fuck."

Their captor dropped a huge arm over Mark's shoulder, "Yep, I'm pretty proud of my work on this one. He is the pride of my collection." The freak roughly ran a hand over his swollen left pec. For his part Mark stood and stared straight ahead as if he was numb to everything around him. The freak continued, "He swelled up quite nicely I think. He was all skin and bones when I found him wandering in the woods so drunk he could barely stand and crying his eyes out. You say his name is Mark? I call him Ernest but I like Mark better." The freak broke into the wild laughter again.

Chris tried again, "Mark wake up … help us."

"Oh he only responds to my commands now." The freak pulled a box from the top of his skin tight suit and hit a button. He said quietly, "Why don't you show our guests your meat, Ernest?"

Mark's eyes opened wider as if he suddenly woke up but rather than responding as if he had come to his senses the hulk reach down to his elastic skinned pants and shoved the waist band down under his junk exposing his meaty dick and balls for all to see. He grabbed his fat dick in one hand and squeezed it as the older men moaned and looked away. Mark did this without any inhibitions and a bored expression as if it was no more uncommon than blowing his nose. The giggling clown clapped his hands and said, "Enough" and the man pulled his pants back up and stood at relaxed attention with heavy eyelids as if someone had turned his battery down to half power.

"You fucking bastard," Chris barked, "What did you do to him, you sick fuck."

The muscled joker stepped up to his side with an amused look, "Well nothing that I don't have planned for my new additions to my collection. You boys are going to love it here." He rubbed his paw over Chris's blown up shoulder as his tortured suit gave off leather sounds. "Oh my knight in black leather", he mumbled in his ear. The clown looked down at the man's massive cock, "Oh my do you have a problem or are you just glad to see me?" then the squirrely laugh.

Chris slipped his hand out of the strap and punched the man squarely in the face.

Blood spurted as the hulk covered his face with his hands and staggered back.

Mitch had the belt at his waist opened in no time and was pulling at the one on his other wrist as Cam and Mitch yelled, "Hurry up" and "Faster" as they pulled against their binds.

The clown freak pulled his hands away from his bleeding face as he pressed his remote and yelled, "Get him…get him!" The hulks swarmed down on Chris who with freed hands had squatted down and was working around his massive cock as he was releasing his left ankle.

Chris disappeared under a mass of swollen muscle though his fists appeared from time to time as he fought against the freaks as they pinned him down and strapped him down again as his dejected friends watched helplessly. In no time, the hulks backed away as Chris struggled against the binds that were now so tight it looked as they might cut into his flesh. He was red faced and breathing hard.

The Joker clone raced to his side and shoved his bleeding face into Chris's. "My my … we have ourselves a wild one…yes we do." Blood dripped from his nose onto Chris's swollen chest and suit as he studied the handsome man nose to nose. "You are a looker aren't you?" With one hand he grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled it out Chris's face as he studied him.

Chris tried to turn away from the ghoul but the band across his forehead prevented it.

The freak shoved his free hand out and barked, "Hose!" One of his hulks put a fat air hose in his hand as an unseen air compressor roared to life. The man giggled as he brought the hose up to Chris's face teasingly. The escaping air blew his hair around and cut trails through his goatee. Holding the powerful hose a foot or two from his face, he would aim it toward Chris's mouth causing his cheeks to fill up before the biker clamped his mouth shut.

The freak grinned at him, "Yes, you are a pretty boy. Why so serious?" He turned and looked at the others, "Why is everybody so serious?" His face grew serious. "You want to know how I got these lips…", the freak puffed out his all ready bulbous cheeks, "and these cheeks?"

"My father was a big muscle man... like you boys. He lifted all day long, getting bigger and stronger. It was his whole life." The freak paused from time to time as he spoke to roll his eyes or just twitch. "He was a drinker too and prone to theses wild rages, when he drank or when he didn't…. wild rages were his talent." The freak paused and took a deep breath as he stared into Chris's face as he twisted his hand tighter and tighter into the fist of hair he held away from his face. "He'd beat Mommy right in front of me; more than once…more…more…more than once." The man stopped talking and licked his lips. "One night we pulled into the garage late. He was there in the dark pissed that his post workout meal wasn't ready for him when he got home from the gym. He was wasting away he said." The freak paused as he stared at something no one else could see. "He weighed almost 300 pounds and was solid muscle but he was wasting away in the fifteen minutes it took Mommy to pick me up after piano lessons. Poor man."

While he told his story the man ran the hissing hose over Chris's thick lips and up around his nostrils as if he might shove it in at any moment. "Well, he dragged my Mommy out of the van like she was a rag doll and slammed her into the side and started screaming about starving and shrinking and how she didn't care enough. He could be Mr. O if his wife only cared enough." The slobbering man paused as he looked through Chris into some distant past.

"I was twelve at the time and skinny as a meatless chicken bone. I grabbed this big crow bar that was about as big as me. I hit him on the back of the head as he is screaming at Mommy. Blood spurted out where I hit him but he didn't drop in a heap or die like in the movies." The clown faced man laughed wildly.

"My father staggered back a bit and reached back and got blood on his hand. Then he grabbed me by the coat and picked me up off the ground before I could hit him again. He slammed me into a post as he screamed about me being a scrawny fuck who thought he was man enough to take him on. He was thumping my head against the beam as he yelled. Then this air compressor kicks on…" The man pauses again lost in thought, "one of those big fuckers that run power tools. Well he grabbed the hose with one hand and popped the bit into the end for blowing up beach balls and stuff while holding me off the floor." The freak held up his hose with the same tip to illustrate his point. "He was screaming about putting some size on my scrawny ass while he shoved his hand over my nose…" He ran the hissing air hose over his broad flat nose. "He crushed it flat."

As the freak tells his story, he slides a thick paw over Chris's nose cutting off his air supply. The biker begins to suck air into his mouth even as he struggles to keep it clamped shut against the maniac's air hose. "My father was screaming about no son of his was going to be a skinny assed sack of bones."

"Then my f-a-t-h-e-r …", he dragged the word out for effect, "shoved the hose into my mouth and clamped my face tight with his hand…"

Chris was beginning to squirm as it got harder and harder to breathe through clinched teeth. Finally he gasped and opened his mouth sucking in deep breathes.

The freak continued as if Chris wasn't even there. "It felt like my head was blowing up like a beach ball and then my chest and then my belly. My bodybuilder father was blowing me up like a fucking balloon… imagine that… my cheeks felt like I was blowing up a balloon that wouldn't inflate but I could feel them getting bigger and bigger and my lips…" as the man continued he looked at Chris with demented eyes. He shoved his hand harder into his face, flattening his nose as he reached down and pinched the sides of his mouth open with his long fingers. He brought back the hissing hose as if he might shove it down his throat as Chris struggled helplessly against his restraints.

"Take your fucking hands off him, you sick piece of shit!" Mitch barked.

The freak jumped and looked over his shoulder as if he might find his bullying father there. His features soften as he looked at the strapped down bodybuilder. His face broke into his odd curved lip grimace. "Why so serious?" He asked the men staring at him with looks of horror. He turned to Chris who looked no less terrified. "Why so serious", he whispered in his ear.

His hyena laugh broke the silence. The big man dropped the hissing hose as he stumbled back. "Why is everybody so serious?" The freak mumbled. "I've spoiled the fun" then his hyena laugh. "I know let's play a game. I love games." He pulled out his remote and hit a button. A column rose out of the floor between the group of men. On it were hung four coils of hose.

The trapped men watched this with trepidation. There was a large red arrow on a rod rising from the top like a weather vane. The column stood about four foot high when it stopped. The crazy clown clapped his hands and said, "Get our guests ready for the game, boys." The muscle freaks started toward the hoses but the crazy man threw up his arms and stopped them. "One, two, three, f… somebody's missing. We can't play till everybody is here." He grabbed the shoulders of two of the muscle zombies and spoke to them quietly as he pushed them toward the door. "You boys are going to love this." The spooky clown said as he rubbed his thick hands together in anticipation as he paced before the door.

A few moments later the big men returned carrying someone. The trapped men thought it was a child. The hulks had made a sling by grasping arms and the short figure lay back between them as they backed through the doorway. Chris looked at Mitch as if to say, "No way this sick fucker has a kid."

The freak motioned toward the floor as he said, "Put him down… put him down, gently … that's it." The figure appeared to be sleeping. The buddies were amazed to see that the freak must have had offspring. By the size of mini freak there was no doubt who his father was. The men huddled around the small fry blocking a clear view but glimpses revealed a short figure that was as muscled as the clown faced freak. By his height they figured he couldn't be more than 5 or 6 years old but he damn near looked at wide as he was tall. The hulks backed off in their usual dazed manner as the clown knelt before the small figure adjusting his clothes. The man stood up and took his hand and walked slowly toward the group in the center of the room.

The muscled men were dazed at what they saw. The kid was easily as jacked as his full grown Father. He looked groggy as he rubbed his eyes with short stubby arms that were bloated with as much muscle as anyone in the room. His little jeans pooled around his ankles but the seams along his thighs popped with each step as the little freak waddled alongside the big freak. He even had grapefruit sized calves that strained his denim. Mitch thought, 'The sick fuck must be juicing his own kid.' The little muscle monster swayed from side to side as he walked on legs that were far too short for such muscle mass. The child stared up at the freak beside him silently. His father brought him to the open table opposite Mitch and lifted him up on a black box before it. The box still only brought his head up to about the five foot range. The clown started strapping the tiny figure down as the others were. None of the swollen buddies could believe this crazy bastard was going to subject a child to some fucked up game that by the looks of the hoses with ball gags on the end would involve some more forced growth.

The small figure watched as a belt was brought around his waist, then each ankle. He pulled one hand free as the freak began to strap his arms wide. The others watching expected him to begin to cry at such treatment. He glared at his father who talked baby talk at him as he worked. Mitch watched amazed at how adult his tiny clothes looked; from his little biker boots to his jeans and belt. With his crazy muscles he looked almost like a tiny adult. Mitch thought, 'Hell I got a down vest just like that only something like ten sizes bigger.' The man stopped to think, 'wait a minute…' Before Mitch could say what he had just realized, the tiny figure looked up and in a deep voice they all knew well said, "Get you frigging hands off me you crazy fucker."

Mitch and Cam both yelled, "Boomer!"

Chris barked, "What happened to him?"

The clown stood up with a mock embarrassed looks on his face, "I guess I left him out in the rain and he shrunk," giggling all the while. "What do you think...three foot six inches tall and 180 pounds of solid muscle?"

The men stared at their friend not knowing what to say. Boomer had lost nearly two feet in height from a frame that was well below average to start with and maybe twenty or thirty pounds but the effect of all that muscle on such a small frame was as if he swelled up like a muscle blimp. His t-shirt was blistered with swollen mounds. His 20" arms erupted from the tiny openings in Mitch's shrunken vest. The too small vest was held open by his bloated pecs and mini roid gut that was creased with bloated muscle. For all his mass his head and hands looked tiny and midget sized as did his little five inch long feet. Nobody knew what to say.

The joker freak clapped his hands. "Everybody ready for some fun? Let's get this game started." The hulks each took a coil of hose from the column and unfurled it until they reached one of the trapped men.

Mitch saw the ball gag on the end of the hose and knew what was in store. He began to try and shake his head as he said, "No don't do it." The words fell on the muscled freak that was getting him ready as if he were deaf. Chris didn't have any better luck as Mark brought the hose up to the biker's handsome face. "Mark you got to wake up and help us. Mark listen to me!" The muscled teen might as well have been a robot as he strapped the gag to the biker's head.

The zombies stepped back once the buddies were all attached to the column by the hoses affixed to their faces. The clown faced man took the hissing air hose he had taunted Chris with and hooked it to a large cylinder that was in the center of the post. There was a metallic whine as the air flowed freely into the tank as the crazy man grabbed a large spray bottle and twirled around in some sort of muscle bloated dance as he squirted each man in the face with a blue mist. Once again the friends were helpless but to pull the mist into their lungs. The nervous men breathed hard as they looked at one another with fear in their eyes.

"Ok so this is how the game works…" the freak droned on as if he was suddenly boarded. He tapped the arrow and it rolled back until it pointed at the ceiling. "I will throw this lever which will release air into your mouth pieces blowing you up like human balloons…sound like fun?"

The men looked at him with real fear in their eyes.

The freak thumped his forehead, "Now where would the sport be in that? Ok I will trip the lever releasing the air flow but here is the fun part: if you don't want to blow up all you have to do is blow into your mouth piece forcing the air away. That's simple isn't it? If you don't want to swell up like the Michelin Man on juice or…"he looked over at Chris, "a leather clad sex toy, you just blow into your hose for all you are worth. Course blowing into your hose will force the air flow into one of your buddies increasing their inflation until they reach maximum pressurization." The crazy man held his jacked arms out and puffed out his checks as he pantomimed as if he was inflated enormously with stiff arms and legs.

The men stood silently as if his words didn't quite make sense. Then Chris could be heard distinctly over his mouth piece, "I'll kill you, bastard." The whole group began to protest despite their mouths full of rubber.

The muscled freak raised a hand, "That's only half of it… the last man standing … that is the last one left after all his best buds are swollen up like toads will get his freedom."

The men fell silent.

"Sound like fun? Ready set go!" The clown raised his jacked arm and slapped it down on the controls. The arrow dropped down but then tilted back toward the ceiling. The men could feel a slow leak of air through their mouth pieces. They all looked stiff necked as they looked at one another then all spoke at once. "I'm not going to blow. Fuck him", Chris said as they others agreed, shaking their heads as best they could. "Fuck him" Mitch repeated. "We can get through this, together."

The air flow was tiny really and the men thought if this is as bad as it gets they could take this for days. Chris figured he could fart the air out no faster than it was flowing in. His ripped belly felt a little tight is all.

Several minutes went by and the pressure began to build. Mitch wondered if the flow had increased but wasn't sure. His protein filled gut felt tight as a drum and he began to feel the goo in his gut began to bubble. The big man began to grunt again and again.

Chris looked over at the red faced hulk. Over his gag he said, "Mitch just relax and clear your mind. You're too tense."

The big man nodded as best he could and tried to breathe out through his nose. He tried to relax and slow his breathing but it felt as if he was slowly blowing up all over. He couldn't stop grunting. The big man closed his eyes and tried to count slowly.

For Cam it felt completely different. His wildly muscled waist felt like it was cinched in under some invisible corset… a corset that was steadily getting tighter and thicker. He wished the pressure could pool in his gut swelling it up like his training partner's. It would take a long time for his gut to blow up as big as Mitch's. As it was, Cam could feel the muscles of his upper body and legs slowly swelling. The pressure seemed to be out pacing his growth as his ballooning chest and upper back were putting pressure on his lungs making it harder to breath.

Of all the pals the air hose had the most noticeable effect on Boomer. The pressure was building rapidly in his tiny body as his bloated muscles grew. His volley ball sized roid gut was noticeable bigger and the seams on his jeans were steadily popping open with flesh peaking through the holes.

Chris could hear his leather suit stretching as his bloated muscles slowly grew but worse yet he could feel the pressure growing in his man sized dick. The last thing he wanted to do was to get a throbbing dinosaur sized erection in front of his best friends. He tried to clear his mind.

The clown freak walked among the swelling men and poked their bloated mounds, laughing one second and mumbling the next. He motioned to his zombies and the men unhooked the belts around the inflating men waists. This relieved some of the pressure slightly.

Boomer was hulking out of his clothes as he steadily swelled bigger and bigger if not taller. He began to grunt and moan as the pressure grew. Mitch's vest even began to break down against the strain as his swelling arms ripped open the too small openings, then his thickening shoulders. Feathers began to escape and float through the air. "Help me", the small freak grunted.

Chris watched this knowing the little man couldn't take much more. His attention was drawn to Mitch who was still grunting steadily and for all practical purposes looked as if he was slowly morphing into some even more massive off season bloat. Even over the mouth gag deep belches could be heard erupting from him. Mitch felt like the gallons of muscle building shake that had been forced into him was slowly being turned into whipped cream as the air bubbled through his body.

The biker glanced over at Cam whose muscles were reaching comic proportions. Huge delts and wide shoulders spread out under thick traps that on anyone else would look like another set of shoulders. His head set atop a neck that was now wider than his face. Cam's out stretched arms were so flushed with bloated muscle that the biker wondered if he could even bend them. Under all this mass was a narrow waist though thickly muscled looked too small to support all that weight. Like his arms and chest the muscles on the man's legs were wildly blown up and slowly growing. Cam struggled against his straps. His face was growing redder by the second. He gasped over the gag, "Can't…breathe."

Everything was happening so fast. Chris felt the pressure under his skin growing rapidly now. His expensive leathers were blistered but holding up to the strain even fighting it. His bloated chest and abs were forcing wide the open zipper that ran from his chin to below his waist. There was no denying it now; the tight suit was forcing air into his massive cock. Chris could feel it growing longer and stiffer. Instead of pointing toward the floor it had begun to arch up slightly. Chris knew that the men's restraint couldn't last much longer. Hell he didn't know how much more he could take as he had started to grunt as the pressure grew stronger.

Suddenly there was a tremendous commotion from Boomer. All eyes shifted toward the small muscle blimp. The clown freak was at his side giggling as he plucked away tattered clothes that were now falling away from his wildly swollen body. Boomer was grunting and yelling repeatedly over his gag, "Can't take much more. Somebody help me! Ahh, the pressure!"

Chris was shocked at what he saw happening to his old friend. Sure his body was blistered with enormous bloated muscle but now his torso below hulk sized pecs was rounding out. It wasn't that his belly was filling up exactly; though it had a good bloat. It as if his trunk had been replaced by a giant beach ball under his skin. The friends stared wide eyed at the change in the short man.

"What's happening to him?" Chris barked.

The happy clown looked over, "He's blowing up like a balloon…" The freak raised a jacked arm up barely able to run his fingers through his wild hair, "No that's not it…" with a clap of his hands as if he just remembered the ghoul yelled, "A blueberry… he's blowing up like a blueberry." The man broke into his crazed laughter as he turned and pointed his little remote at the short man on the box and hit a button on the control. Boomer's skin began to take on a faint blue tint. The crazed man could barely stand as he laughed at the latest development. The freak released straps on the now immobilized man as Boomer's torso swelled bigger and bigger as it absorbed his muscle bloated form into the rounding midsection. The man swayed on tiny feet shifting his eyes back and forth as he tried to take in the change he felt sweeping over him. All the while he begged for help from his helpless friends.

Chris's attention was drawn to Cam as the red faced man started making

wheezing noises. "Can't … breathe…" He cried between deep rasping wheezes as if the muscles in his bull neck had closed down his wind pipe. Cam's muscles were enormous; like a photo morph brought to life. Nobody had been as wildly muscled or would want to be. His upper body had to be six feet wide by now. Each pec was wider than the average man's chest and bloated like a hundred pound slab of meat. The muscles of his upper body were no less swollen and his ripped upper arms had to be nearing 35" around. Everything below his waist was just as inflated and slowly growing. As Boomer's trunk rounded out, Cam's was cinched in by thickening slabs of muscle. At most his waist was 38" around and cinched in with bands of meat as bloated as a car tire. His upper body looked three times as big as his wasp waist. Still his muscles slowly grew.

Chris remembered from his brother's asthma as a child that fear made it harder to breathe. Between grunts the biker called to Cam, "Try to relax, don't struggle, let the air in." Cam's eyes had been rolling back in his head but he seemed to come to. He lowered his chin and it appeared that his massive chest was rising and falling as he took shallow breaths.

The cackling clown waddled over between Cam and Mitch, obviously enjoying his crazed game as he pranced and laughed. He clapped his hands and told his muscle zombies to release the other's straps as all were so swollen now that resistance or anything but the most limited movement was out of the question. Enormous arms dropped slightly against swollen sides on release and legs shifted into wider stance offered some relief.

Chris felt some pressure back off as he was freed from the tight straps and he was able to ease away from the upright table. His ass felt enormous as it filled the baggy seat of his suit and his melon sized nuts were painfully being smashed against the tight leather. His back felt massive as did his leather skinned arms but it was his animal sized cock that filled his mind. He could feel it steadily swelling as it rose before him. His dick head was starting to poke out of his foreskin. The man wished he had something to throw over the massive meat as it embarrassed him to have such a reaction in front of his old pals but the others were so overwhelmed by their own inflation that none were paying attention to Chris.

Chris had begun to hear an odd but steady noise that was rising over the hiss of the flowing air. It was a low rumble of sorts that was steadily growing louder. It reminded him of the sound of whipped cream being released from a pressurized can. It was then that he noticed that Mitch had some foam dripping off his thick chin and sliding over his blimped up pecs. The biker was dazed as he saw what appeared to be whipped cream occasionally shoot out of the man's mouth piece. Chris wondered if their big friend was being force fed whipped cream instead of air?

Mitch had no such questions. From the start he had felt the air bubbling through the huge amount of thick shake in his belly. It hadn't taken long before he was overwhelmed with the sense that his body was being filled with some kind of muscle building foam. The sound roared in his ears and filled his growing form with steady vibration. He felt his once hard prime muscles swelling up like marshmallows as his belly felt large enough to hold a young colt.

As the seconds flew by bringing wild changes to the foursome, all wondered how much more they could take. Chris's attention was drawn to the red arrow that pointed toward the ceiling. The long arrow had begun to vibrate. The biker stared at it for a moment before he heard a cry from Boomer. A glance at the short man revealed that his torso ball was pressing under his massive chest and had encompassed everything below, down halfway to his knees. His skin was several shades darker than Smurf blue. Worse of all, Boomer was blowing into his mouth piece for all he was worth.

The arrow dropped down and spun wildly in a half circle between Chris, Mitch, and Cam. Chris felt the pressure rise slightly but he couldn't take his eyes off of the spastic arrow as it flew back and forth as if trying to decide on a target. "Boomer no!" Chris yelled as Mitch and Cam could only grunt loudly.

The wild arrow slipped and jerked and then locked on Cam. The big man grunted as if he had been kicked in the gut. His head jerked back as his face changed from red to purple. His blimped up muscles were easily blowing up faster now. Cam struggled to pull air into his lungs as he wheezed. The man's eyes shot open as he pulled his head down and began blowing into the hose as hard as he could.

"Guys… what are you doing?" Chris heard himself yell even though he knew the answer. It was every man for himself. The arrow started flipping back and forth between Mitch and Chris; not spinning in a half circle but rising toward the ceiling as the two men faced one another. Both felt the pressure increase dramatically.

The arrow teetered toward the ceiling before dropping rapidly and locking on Mitch. The foaming noise grew louder. The big man was rapidly growing bigger as if he had been hooked up to a helium tank sized can of Rediwhip. His soft muscles swelled all over his frame and pressing around his panicked face as if he was a human life raft and someone pulled his ripcord. His gut was growing so fast it wouldn't be long before it could hold a sumo wrestler. Mitch's eyes bulged as he roared before blowing into his mouth piece with the strength of ten.

Chris watched in fear as the arrow shot straight up and came down pointing at him. The pressure shot through the roof. The biker's leathers protested loudly but he could finally feel seams giving here and there. Most of the pressure flooded onto his exposed cock and it ballooned. The pressure was tremendous with no signs of letting up. Chris felt the muscle building foam flowing through his mouth piece and pooling in his gut as Mitch did his best to empty his beach ball sized belly. Chris had no choice but to blow into the mouth piece as the tremendous pressure felt as if unchecked might rupture his cock like an over inflated condom.

The crazy clown was in seventh heaven as he watched his game shift into over drive. Laughing manically, the freak ran between the swollen men trying to guess where the spinning arrow would land next. It took seconds before the arrow locked onto the smallest target of all: Boomer.

The short man squealed as the pressure flooded into his tiny frame. His short time as instigator of the competition might have shrunk him down some but he rapidly swelled up now. The man tried to blow against the flood gates that had opened upon him but it had little effect but to darken his face and balloon his cheeks until they rivaled the crazed man who held them captive.

Chris felt the pressure within his own skin drop drastically as he blew hard. If he did slack off he felt the airflow begin to back up into his mouth piece as the arrow gave a slight twitch his way. Chris loved his lifelong buddies but all he could think of now was deflating his overblown body.

Boomer was rapidly turning into a human blueberry as his skin darkened and his rounding body swallowed up his muscle bound limbs. The man was helpless to do anything but whimper and pat his swelling sides with bloated hands. He grew and grew until he was a perfect circle with only hands and feet sticking out of his body; a three foot six inch tall blueberry with the head and face of Boomer. His broad hands patted his sides as he moaning grew louder and he teetered on tiny feet. His skin was shiny and deep blue and looked to be made of rubber. He had stopped swelling though his steady moans showed that the pressure was rising within his skin. All began to fear that he might pop in a wave a blueberry juice… everyone but the crazed muscle freak. Wacko circled the man giggling as he rubbed his hands over his shiny skin; pushing and prodding against flesh that no longer had any give to it. "Almost there… almost there", the freak giggled.

Then as Boomer squeezed his eyes shut against what he knew would be his imminent demise, the rubber hose shot out of his mouth piece with a loud pop leaving the tiny man completely blown up.

The happy freak jumped in the air coming down with a loud wall rattling thud. The other men stopped blowing in shock as they looked at Boomer. The pressure dropped dramatically as they all stared in awe.

For his part the blueberry man slobbered and sputtered; amazed to find he hadn't popped like a balloon. The pressure eased as the hose broke free. Sure he was completely inflated but he no longer felt on the edge of exploding. Boomer waddled a bit atop his black box as he stared at his friends.

The clown clapped his hands as the Zombies came to life. The giddy hulk fluttered his fingers as if he played with an invisible cigar beside his head as he said, "Take him to the juicing room at once before he explodes." The voice sounded more like Groucho Marx than Willie Wonka which seemed to spark the fool's enjoyment as he laughed wildly and pranced as his muscle bound henchmen lifted Boomer and set him on the floor. The blueberry man tried to push them off with swollen hands and waddle away on wide spread tiny feet but it was hopeless as the hulks rolled him over on his back and then rolled him toward a door that magically slid open.

As Boomer rolled out of sight, the clown freak turned to the other stunned men before slapping his hands down on the controls shouting, "Round two, which one of you will walk… that is waddle free?"

The pressure flowing into the bloated men was stronger than before. In no time the men were struggling against the growing pressure as Mitch foamed, Cam wheezed and Chris blushed. An unstoppable panic was rising with the three men. Chris rationalized that he of the three was better equipped for a long trek in the woods. For all their education and jock strength Cam and Mitch were still city boys at heart and could wander in the woods for days. The biker's years of hunting the region made him far better suited for the trek at hand. Chris began to formulate a plan for getting help but first he had to beat his best friends.

A purple faced Cam started blowing into the hose setting the arrow into action as it hunted a weak lunged target. There was no hesitation on Mitch's and Chris's parts as the trio now fought to keep the air flow from reaching their mouth pieces.

The arrow spun wildly as the clown faced freak sang, "Around and around it goes where it stops…" The arrow twitched and jerked and then latched onto Cam. The muscle blimp tried to fight the pressure but his effort was hampered as he whezzed loudly as the growing pressure squeezed his lungs. As he inflated like a parade float, Mitch's muscle building foam began to pool in his ridged muscle gut causing it to pout a bit. Mitch and Chris actually looked to be slowly shrinking as they blew up the poor man.

Like Boomer once Cam's resistance was overwhelmed there was little to keep him from rapidly blowing up. The wheezing muscle blimp was holding his growing roid gut as he swayed side to side slightly as he wheezed. His face was growing deeper red by the second. It started to look as if Cam's handsome head had been screwed onto a muscle monster's body that was three times the size of a typical muscle freak.

Cam's face grew purple as he struggled to pull air into his lungs. His buddies both feared the man might suffocate. As they watched both began to slow their blowing hoping he would pop his hose as Boomer had. The balloon muscled man felt as if he was about as tightly inflated as a football and feared he might be ripped to shreds if this game didn't end soon. Cam's body began to tremble violently and it appeared his body had stopped growing though both his pals knew there was a strong flow flooding into him. As Cam made gasping noises the hose shot off his mouth gag with a loud pop as the man rocked back into the padded table as he sucked air into his lungs through the gag still strapped to his head.

The next thing Chris knew his mouth and throat were filling up with Mitch's muscle building foam. He glanced over to see the man in full-bore jock mode, something he hadn't seen in Mitch since they played football on the same team. The man by nature was pretty laid back and a bit quiet but he was a fierce competitor. The bloated hulk was bent forward slightly as he blew hard into his mouth piece.

With a loud clack the arrow flipped through the air and pointed at Chris. The biker watched all this with a growing sense of horror. The sounds of expanding foam roared in his ears and made his whole body vibrate. Worse of all was the massive sense of pressure that was flooding into the man. Chris could feel the wet foam escaping around the edges of his mouth piece and dripping down his chin. The seams over the shoulders of his leathers began to pop.

"I have to stop this", Chris told himself. He tensed his huge body and began to blow. It was hard as he felt the air escape from him in sputtering fashion. Mitch looked possessed as he blew into his hose with demonic eyes.

Chris closed his eyes and began to fight against the pressure flooding into him. The struggle seemed to last forever as his head ached and his temples pounded. The pressure was so intense that the biker feared he might pass out. Then the realization came to him after what seemed like hours that the pressure had backed off. He couldn't taste the protein shake foam anymore though the foaming sound had grown louder. Chris could hear Mitch grunting and then squealing as the air flow completely targeted the body builder. Chris kept his eyes closed and blew. He didn't want to see what was happening to a man he was closer to than his own brother. He told himself that once free he would come back and free his friends before the sun rose.

The foaming noise just kept growing louder and louder as Mitch's protests sounded even more muffled. Then all at once there was a loud "POP!" sound and Chris felt the machine shut down. The clown was cackling loudly as Chris slowly opened his eyes.

He was actually smaller than he had been at the start of this. The clown was standing over him and reached up and popped the hose off his mouth piece before giving the tip a turn. "We have a winner", he yelled as he slapped the man's leather cover shoulder. Chris felt the pressure flood out of him as if he was a rubber skinned balloon. A strong sense of relief hit the man as he felt his body rapidly returning to normal. Chris was deflating.

He couldn't help but notice the whimpering sounds from across the room. The prancing clown stepped aside as he watched Chris grinning. Chris had a clear view of Mitch now. Words are inadequate to describe what the crazy game had done to the man. Mitch was blown up beyond anything humanly possible. The freak stood looking down at himself as he made whimpering noises. Chris didn't know if the bodybuilder was fighting back tears or that his massive body transformation had left him incapable of anything more that odd strangled noises. The man who had returned to town sporting the build of the classic bodybuilder ideal now looked as if he was fathered by and odd coupling between the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man and Markus Ruel. The muscle zombies waddled around the man as they studied his overblown body dully. Chris watched as the chuckling clown pushed two fingers into Mitch's once solid chest only now his fingers sunk in almost their entire length as if the man was a muscled blow up doll brought to life.

Chris was over whelmed with guilt and anger. His mouth was locked open by the gag he wore and the air escaping from him made his ears tingle. His cock was now about the size of his arm. The biker pulled it up against his chest and pulled the zipper on his stretched out suit closed. The others were watching Mitch as he waddled from foot to foot; the zombies in their perpetual daze but the Joker clone was prancing and laughing. Chris reached up and unhooked the mouth piece he wore. The sound of it hitting the floor brought the crazy man's attention just as Chris leaped on him. The biker cinched his hands around his neck, "I'll kill you, asshole." He squeezed as hard as he could but all he could feel was solid muscle flexing under his hands.

The clown staggered back with his jacked arms held back as he grunted, "Get him"

The zombie crew came to life and pounced on Chris. In a second his arms were pinned to his sides and the freaks were marching him away from their master. The clown rubbed his neck as he squealed as if all happening were a freaky joy to him. "Get him out of here. Set him free."

The muscle crew began to hustle the deflating man toward an automatic door that slid open. Chris began to yell to his buddies, "I'm coming back for you." He fought against the men for more time to promise his friends. As the men pushed him passed Mitch, Chris grabbed him by the wrist and held on. "Mitch, don't worry. I'm coming back. I'll get help and be back." The bodybuilder's forearms were now bigger than his thighs had been at the start of the night. Mitch looked back at him with dazed eyes. His face was bloated almost beyond recognition.

The muscle men pealed his hand free of the bodybuilder as they pushed him through the door. Chris hit the floor in a heap. The big men backed away from him as they closed the door that lead to his friends. Chris was alone in a short hallway as an automatic door opened at the end with a red flashing light over it. Air still escaped the man but he had to force it out now that he had thrown the gag away otherwise the air was trapped inside of him still blowing him up somewhat. As the man got to his feet he could feel his cock rubbing his belly just under his pecs. Now no bigger around than his wrist. Chris couldn't help but feel relief as his body returned to normal but he felt guilty to be leaving his best friends. There was a window looking into the room he had just left. The clown freak was dancing between Mitch and Cam as he taunted and laughed. Chris pounded on the thick glass and yelled, "I'll be back."

The door began to beep as the light flashed faster. Chris was afraid if he didn't leave now he would be locked in. He jumped back startled as a big crash hit the

window he stood with his hands on as he watched the door in the corner.

The clown had run to the window and plastered his body against it as he taunted and mimicked Chris. Chris pointed at the freak, "You're dead, you hear me…DEAD!" The door was beginning to close.

The clown mimicked him as he laughed crazily. Chris looked at his pals one last time before he dove through the door. He was in another hall with a door that slid open at the end. Chris ran through it, leaving his friends to fend for themselves.