by JSF610
Hard to believe looking back that the U.S. Government would have brought Chris and I together, and provided for us after his discharge. But then, Chris was no ordinary man after his discharge.
I had been brought in on the "Secret Weapon” project as an aid. My job was to shuttle the subject from base to base, observe training, and take notes. Seemed simple enough. I was told the project was top secret,
And would help the military gain "the edge” in combat situations.
I was given a dossier on my subject. Private Christopher Calloway. Test subject Alpha. Base Height, 6 foot
4 inches. Base Weight, 240 lbs. Base Chest Measurement, 48 inches. Base Waist Measurement, 36 inches.
Eye color, Green. Hair color, Blonde. Estimated increase after initial treatment 6%.
I drove to the Base, and was introduced to the Private immediately.
"Kyle, good to see you. We will give the first of two treatments today. The second in four weeks after his final week of training.” The doctor explained. "The goal of this test is to increase his speed, strength, and force, to over power the enemy in arm to arm combat. We shall do this by altering his chemical and metabolic capabilities. Phase one is to expose him to the gas we have developed. An initial
estimated increase of 6% should occur within an hour. Following our guidelines, he will eat, sleep, and train in 4 different specialized areas. Then be exposed to the second gas. At which time we estimate a 2%
final increase. He will be the most powerful G.I. in the U.S. Army!.” The doctor grinned.
" And my job is to play taxi driver and observer for this lab case?” I asked.
"Yes. Someone must represent my…er our interests.”
"I see. Well, lets get this thing going.” I replied.
"Kyle, this is Private Calloway.” He introduced me to a vision. My jaw nearly dropped, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He looked like a chiseled Greek God. His short cropped hair only accentuating the square jaw line. He smiled and shook my hand.
"Nice to meet you, SIR.”
"Yes. Nice to meet you, Private.” I answered, lingering at his firm grip.
"Private, please step into the chamber. Remember to breathe deeply.” The doctor instructed.
"Over here Kyle, and we can observe.”
I waked over to a window and looked in. The private sat on a bench, in the chamber. The gas was released, and he breathed. After 30 minutes, I noticed his fatigues starting to lose the wrinkles. He was actually growing before our eyes. His shoulders broadened, chest practically inflated with each breath, and his legs and arms thickened. By the end of the hour he was left standing in nothing but his ill fitting jock strap, barely covering a massive cock. I was hard from just seeing it. The doctor was elated.
"This is wonderful!” the doctor yelled out. ”The response was better than I could even imagine.Go get his new measurements for some clothes, then its off to Eagle Base.” He directed.
I went into the chamber after getting the all clear. Tape measure in hand, I began to measure the massive man before me. "This may tickle a bit, I’m not a tailor” I warned.
"That’s O.K. Feels a bit weird.” He replied softly.
I began taking measurements. Height, 6 foot 8 inches. Chest, 58. Waist, 48. Weight, 325. Arms, 25.Neck, 19. Thighs,30. Inseam…..his cock was erect as I went to measure the inseam. I looked up, he smiled and patted my head. Inseam……I couldn’t concentrate, it was immense and throbbing in my face. I stood up and guessed at 48.
We managed to get him into some fatigues, luckily my measurements didn’t really matter as the PX took him in and got him fitted out with the usual problems – nothing fit. After that, we loaded up the jeep and headed out. Eagle Base.
As we drove, I asked him why he was doing this.
"It seemed like a good idea. Get extra pay, better training , serve my country.” He replied
An army man through and through. I thought to myself. It was getting dark, and I was tired from the long trip into pick him up, and the exhilarating metamorphosis. I had a hard time not letting him see how hard I was. "We will get there in a few minutes. Have to get you into the barracks for the night.” I said
He smiled. "We could stop here for a quicky.”
I nearly lost control of the jeep. "What did you say?”
"I couldn’t help but notice you. Why do you think I was so hard in the chamber?” he smiled again.
"You mean, you..?”
"Don’t ask, don’t tell. And I won’t.” He grinned.
"Look, you are supposed to be a fighting machine…..”
He cut me off.. "Yes, I know all that. But I wanted to meet you. I saw you in the registry, knew someone would have to assist, and requested you on your merits through the General – my father.”
I was speechless.
We approached the gate.
"We will talk about this later.” I told him
"We will have lots of time to talk, we are sharing the V.I.P. barracks.” He grinned again. He had planned this whole thing out.
The M.P’s directed us to out quarters, and left us alone.
"How did you know I would go for this?” I demanded as I unpacked my kit.
"I took a chance” he chuckled
"Quite a chance, what if this test kills you?”
"Doubt it. Too many people involved. Too much money. Besides, in my family its do or die.” He was quiet.
I sighed. He was very handsome. And persuasive. But this was work. I settled down on my cot. He turned in on his.
Next morning he began his training. Grueling hiking, and marksmanship training with a canon like gun only someone of his new size could handle. I followed him around to every training session, every field event, even tailed him on his hikes. He always gave me a smile. Even at night, he never forced the issue, but always offered his bed to me. This was work.
The end of the week rolled around. The base personnel that had been part of his training showed up at the barracks. "C’mon guys. You have to join in the traditional farewell dinner.”
I knew this would happen. Every base had its traditions, usually a farewell meal of some sort where the drinking reigned supreme. I looked at Chris, and followed him out the door. Who was I to stop tradition.
We gathered at the mess hall. Eight of us, but the cook, a swarthy Italian fellow, had cooked enough to feed 100.The men toasted us, and sat down. It was then that I noticed only 1 plate, in front of Chris.
"Eat up.” The men cheered. And Chris began to eat.
It was unbelievable, he ate, and ate, and ate. His belly slowly rising as he packed more and more food into himself. I walked over to check on him. He looked down at his swollen gut, and pointed to his belt.
"Undo it..” he whispered.
I unbuckled it, his gut spilling out. He continued to eat to all presents amazement, all the food was gone.
It took four men to help him up. We waddled back to the barracks.
"What were you thinking?” I asked
"Have to do it, or else they try to force you. Besides, I’ve been starving all week.” He patted his massive belly.
"You are huge! You’ll never make the next three sessions like that…you can hardly move!” I snapped
"Don’t worry…..don’t you like it? Come over here..” he grabbed me. His massive body pressed firmly against mine. We kissed. I melted. I ran my hands over that swollen belly, massaging it, caressing it.
He leaned back onto the bed, lifting me up onto his beachball keg. We soon fell fast asleep.
Next morning, I awoke on his hard firm body. The belly gone, but his body larger.
We got dressed, his clothes no longer fit, much to tight. He had converted all he ate to muscle.
I spoke to the PX master and managed to get some new clothes.
The next three weeks went much the same. Training, hard work, then some kind of eating contest-
And Chris was hulking out. His final night at the last base, the men brought 20 kegs of beer, and a
Tanker truck full of beer. They thought it would scare him off, but he began by announcing he would drink it all. I was in shock as he downed keg after keg. His belly swelling larger and larger. His seems splitting as he grew out of his shirt and pants. His body swelled as he finished off the last keg. The men stared. He grabbed the hose from attached to the truck and began to suck at it. He was actually doing it, his body growing larger to accept every mouthful. His legs now hidden beneath his gargantuan gut, swollen tight,
And still growing larger. Within an hour he was done. He belched loudly.
"Any more?” he asked
The men stood still, staring at his immense body.
He managed to get to his feet, his belly so tight it stuck out like a giant cask. He threw his shoulders back, and slowly waddled to the doors. I thought he would never get through them. He was too big. His gut barely fit. He was stuck in the double doors. I told the men to let us sleep there in the mess. They agreed.
I rubbed his belly. I was so turned on. He whispered.
”What do you think?”
"How will I ever explain this…..”
"Don’t. Kyle, did you think I could do it? I showed them. Come here. I want my man to play with me.”
I gasped , "Chris, you are….so….HUGE! I…I….” I noticed his thick throbbing cock beneath the tonnage of belly. I grabbed it, began to stroke it, and took it in my mouth….
"MMmmmmm” he groaned. "More, more man…..I love you Kyle….more….”
His body shook, and he came in a great eruption that filled me up and spilled all around. I was soaked.
I moved around to his head. He smiled, took me in his arms, and kissed me.
By morning, he had turned it all into hulking massive muscle. I had given up measuring him when he broke the 80 inch tape taking a deep breath. He was well over 7 feet tall. I was in love, so was he. But that we had to keep quiet.
We returned to the doctor at the home base. The second and last dose of the gas was to be given, and Chris would be presented to the General and staff reviewing the project. I was a wreck. He was too big, he would be shot down, I would be held responsible. Everything would be lost.
The doctor was overjoyed.
"Impressive. Imagine an entire army like him” he went on. "Now to finish up” he gestured to the chamber.
"Good luck” I whispered, and squeezed his hand.
He smiled and entered the chamber. The gas was released. He didn’t grow. Just the opposite. He returned to his original measurements. We were in shock.
"This was not supposed to happen” the doctor yelled. "I’ll have your head for this. The General is expecting something incredible, a huge fighting machine” he was livid.
I was silent. My Giant had returned to normal. I still loved him. The General was announced and the display had to go on. Chris put on his gear. We all headed out to the field.
A small tent had been set up for the general and staff to view the "Fighting Machine” that they had created.
All the guns, canons, and other project tools were ready for this giant to handle. All seemed disappointed
When Chris entered the field.
"What is this?” the General demanded. "He hasn’t changed at all> Doctor you promised me a massive warrior. You would make something of this boy.”
The staff began to mumble and talk among themselves as the doctor and General began a heated debate.
They suddenly stopped when they heard the canon go off. Chris was growing. He was big enough to lift the canon, and still growing larger. His clothes strained and stretched, the seams burst. His belt flew off with a snap. He was magnificent, massive, hairy, his muscles gleaming in the sunlight. His gut growing larger and larger, solid , like a powerlifters. Within minutes he was so large, it was hard to believe he was human. He looked like some kind of comic strip hero gone berzerk on steroids and weight gain shakes. He was a human tank.
The General looked in awe. The staff looked on quietly. Chris did his maneuvers. He wasn’t as fast as he had been, he had grown too large for speed, but he made up for it in strength.
The decision was made not to go on with the project. I left the lab. Chris was discharged and given a lifetime pension…he was too large for the Army to handle. He came out to his father, who turned him away. I was there for him. Chris continues to grow. We pig out weekly, seeing how large I can make him.
By the next morning, he has converted it all to muscle. He flexes for me, and crowds that gather when he walks down the beach. We are set for life with the pension. I am set for life with my giant.