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It Happened All Yesterday
|It all happened yesterday. I'd been into the shop, the one with Mr. Muscle behind the counter. He looked more pumped than ever. His pecs were threatening to burst free from their cotton prison at any moment, and the seams of his jeans were stretched to breaking point everytime he bent down to get something from under the counter. The way the thick, veined peaks of his biceps flexed everytime he reached to the shelves was almost hypnotic. I watched as he packed the bags, almost looking as if he could absent-mindedly crush the tins and bottles he was handling with no effort at all.
I was standing behind the newspapers, hoping it would hide the fact that I was enjoying the show so much. That plan failed miserably. He caught my eye, the fact that I'd been stood there for 10 minutes and had nothing more than a couple of yoghurts and a loaf of bread told him everything he needed to know. He gave me a self satisfied superior smirk which made my blood boil, yet filled me with the desire to jump over the counter and rip his clothes off at the same time. I decided to pay up and get out. It had been a long, difficult day, and I was ready to get home and have something to eat. The whole time he served me, he never stopped staring. He wanted to make me feel small and weak. He was better than me and he knew it. Don't touch what you can't afford. His contempt for me was really irritating. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I just longed to be bigger than him, so big I could do as I pleased, see the fear in his eyes, fear mixed with pure, animal lust.
It was a 15 minute walk from the shop to my home, and it had done little to improve my mood. If anything, it had got worse. I was tired, hungry, and stuck out in the rain again. Finally I got into the house. I sprawled on the sofa and opened the yoghurt. Not much of a meal, but after the day I'd had cooking was out of the question. I took one mouthful and spat it out in disgust, it tasted foul! I stirred it with my spoon, thick lumps of mould were floating near the bottom. I looked at lid, almost two weeks out of date. The bastard! he must have noticed. Was he trying to poison me? It was the final insult. I could feel rage building up inside me and I knew it would have to be released. It had happened before, but this time was worse. I was really losing control. I didn't think I could make it back to the shop before it happened but I had to try.
I stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind me. I got out into the street and something caught my eye. One of my neighbours had locked their keys inside their car. Perfect! By this time, all rational though had left my mind, all I could focus on was carrying out my vendetta. I ripped the door completely off the car. The steel hinges snapped like brittle twigs. I twisted it into an unrecognizable ball of metal, tossing it over my shoulder like an afterthought. I got in, started the engine, put my foot to the floor and went back to the shop. I jumped red lights and junctions and abandoned the car right outside. I kicked the door so hard it got embedded in the wall, shattering the glass. I stormed over to the counter. Mr. Muscle looked bemused, perhaps bordering on a little nervous. He'd seen nothing yet. I could hold on no longer. I stood in front of the counter and roared, stretching out my arms. I could feel my calves knotting into massive cords of diamond shaped muscle, snapping the laces on my boots before the rock hard muscle ate away at the thick leather like acid. My jeans started to get skin tight, even the thick veins covering my rapidly growing muscles clearly visible through the denim. I gave the counter a shove with my foot, effortlessly sliding it across the flood. It pinned Mr. Muscle back against the rack of spirits, bottles of whisky and vodka crashing to the floor. I stared directly into his eyes. Now I saw fear, this is what I wanted! My clothes started to feel painfully tight. I flexed hard into a most muscular pose and felt them literally explode off my body. My jeans shredded as my thick calves and quads burst free, the buttons shooting from my shirt with so much force they blasted around the shop, breaking jars and bottles. The vast peak of my biceps erupting through the sleeves like a volcano, and I'd barely even started. By now, my head was nearing the ceiling, my body was so wide that I could feel my glutes knocking down shelves behind me, with every movement my shoulders wreaked more havoc. I wrapped my arm around a support pillar, and felt it disintegrate in my harder than iron grip. I picked up the now tiny counter and smashed it over my knee in one swift movement, reducing it to splinters. I squatted down, still dwarfing my captive, my rock hard muscle butt obliterating more of the store, crumpling the freezers as I did so. My hand was big enough to wrap around his body, my biceps taller than he was, a mass of freaky, veined muscle, which was slowly filling the shop. I squeezed him hard, Not hard enough to break him, but hard enough to let him know I was in charge. Not that he would have been in any doubt. I could feel concrete crumbling into dust and steel beams bending like toothpicks against the hardness of my muscles. It was time.
Grabbing the shop guy, I stood up, my massive and still growing body bursting out of the shop. I looked down and flexed my calves, impressed to see that the stretched almost from the front of the wrecked building to the back. I stepped out of the shell. The impact of my massive weight hitting the ground enough to send the remains of the ruined structure crashing into a pile of rubble. I looked at him, small and pathetic. I pushed him into the valley between my pecs, pinning him there. Let him see what real muscle looks like. I picked up my neighbours car, by now looking more like a toy against my colossal muscle body. I ripped it in half, which took no effort at all. I stepped out onto the road, cars and buses swerving to avoid me. My weight damaging the road so badly it was impassable anyway. Water fountained high into the air from the pipes I had broken. There was a six storey office building across the street. It rose only to mid thigh, and these were thighs which were wider than the entire building, thick, awesome slabs of muscle, containing unimaginable power. People were running in terror, desperate to get away from me, but for once, I wasn't interested in them.
I sat down on top of the offices. The top 2 floors collapsed as I moved around to make myself comfortable. The support pillars buckled and groaned as the weight of unbelievable muscle mass settled on top of them. My huge muscle dick was rock hard, and I knew what I needed to do to end this. Mr. Muscle (seems ridiculous to be calling him that now that I am like this) was quivering in abject terror, awed to be in the presence of a real muscle god, so far beyond anything he could even dream of achieving. I tore his shirt off like it was a wet tissue. I saw him wince as I did it. I looked lustfully at his semi naked body, and felt my dick twitch. Compared to me, it was nothing, but nonetheless, still respectable. I tore away his jeans, and could see that in spite of himself, he was as hard as I was. I started to rub his hard muscle body against my own dick, his huge pecs massaging me, he started to use his own strength to arouse me further, pushing against me with his arms and legs, clearly enjoying it as much as I was. With my free hand I started to explore my body, running it across my vast pecs, huge, car size nipples and between the huge slabs of my abs. Precum started to pour out of me, splattering noisily to the street below, the shop guy was totally covered. I stopped for a second, licking my juice from his body. I resumed, harder than before, my moans clearly audible right across the city. I shoved my feet out, lying further back, my calves scraping deep into the road surface, ripping it up. I looked across at the massive traffic chaos I was creating, it turned me on even more. I kept going, faster and faster, the well-muscled shop assistant was starting to struggle, but he wouldn't have to wait much longer. I felt him lose his tiny load against me. It was too much. Weakened by my horny rutting, the large office building suddenly collapsed under me. I could feel concrete and steel crumbling at my slightest touch, I was able to rip up entire floors, I had never felt so powerful. God like. I lost it. I shot a load bigger than anyone had ever seen, blasting right across the street directly onto the apartments opposite, shattering windows, flooding rooms. I thought it was never going to stop. Finally it did. Somehow Mr. Muscle survived the experience, whether he'll be so lucky next time remains to be seen.
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