Another chapter for  gmxmuscle's characters, where Marty's growth goes to his head just a bit, and his boyfriend decides it's time for a calm, entirely uneventful intervention with no growth whatsoever.

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Characters ©  gmxmuscle
Story © c'est moi

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“Doctor, you need to fix this,” Leo slammed his fist down on the table, the titanic cobra looming over Dr. Louis Bourant. “That air-headed quail is probably bigger than I am by now. You’ve got to stop it!”

“At the risk of sounding impertinent, Mr. Sykes,” the gecko scientist paused to clean his glasses. “I can’t help but feel that this haste has more to do with your concern that this Martin fellow is already bigger than you. I warned you not to overdose him.”

Louis Bourant didn’t scare easy, but as his boss’s thick and powerful hands clamped down on his shoulders, he, for once, regretted his choice of words. He was spun around in the cobra’s grasp, biceps tensing to dangerous levels as they swelled to the size of the gecko’s head, a chest wider than the fender of his car hovering dangerously close. He couldn’t even see Leo’s face, but by the fact that he could see the cobra’s tongue flicking out, wedging in between the cleft of his pecs, he knew he was angry.

“Doctor. I would hope you, of all people, would know that at the end of the day, I am a professional.” Leo rumbled, his massive body rippling, threatening to tear at his tailored suit. “I know when to put aside my impulses and emotions, but I would ask you not to test that.”

The gecko cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses again. “Forgive me, sir, I spoke out of turn.”

Leo let go, leaning forward to see the scientist over the crest of his own pecs. He was smiling easily again. “It’s okay, Louis, I’ve got you working long hours, and you’re stressed. Happens to the best of us.” He patted the gecko’s shoulders. “We just need to get a cap on this situation, before it gets out of hand. If a giant quail hulk is running around, there’s too much of a risk that it can be traced back to us… you need to perfect the serum, Louis.”

“I still need to get a hold of the Mandragora, sir. Without that fruit, it’s next to impossible to work on this project, I can’t just summon something out of the ether like a medieval alchemist. You need to be more patient-”

The gecko jumped as everything on his table clattered, a huge dent left on the sanitized counter as Leo raised his fist, his sleeve torn as his steel girder of an arm tensed and bulged. “I have been patient, Louis! God, I have thrown more money at your department than most countries make in a year! I have reached the end of my rope being out-classed by my own secretary- I want what I paid for, and I want it now. Where is the antidote?!”

“Mr. Sykes, please!” Dr. Bourant held up his hand, reaching into his lab coat, producing a test tube filled with a neon blue liquid. “I have a theoretical antidote right here. But the serum will have to wait.”

“Fine.” Leo snatched the antidote out of the doctor’s hand, slipping it into his coat pocket. “Come along, doctor. I want to nip this in the bud. We’re paying Martin a visit.”

The cobra stormed through his corporate headquarters, the blue lizard tucked under his arm and mashed against the surging flanks of his rippling back, testing the limits of his suit.

“M-Mr. Sykes, this really isn’t necessary!” Louis squirmed, fumbling for his glasses as they slipped off his snout.

“I don’t like wasting time, Louis, and you tend to dawdle,” Leo grunted. “I’ve tried scheming and being subtle, and it got me an oversized and overpaid secretary, with me no closer to getting the strength I want. So, we’re trying a more direct approach. And we’re doing it now.”

The last statement was punctuated with Leo throwing Louis into a seat in his BMW and slamming the door shut, nearly tearing it off its hinges. The large, expensive looking car pulled up to a modest apartment complex, and soon the massive cobra was knocking on a door.

When Zen the wolf opened the door, he was surprised to see his boyfriend’s boss, but after a moment of thinking, not at all surprised, given the state Marty was in. The bulky green canine crossed his thickly roped arms, his lips thinning. “Leo. And Dr. Louis. Something I can do for you? It’s Marty’s day off, so I’m not letting you drag him into the office; especially after his… swelling incident.”

The cobra and gecko exchanged glances. The wolf’s fur was matted in places, and he was dressed in an undershirt clinging to his thick, heavily sculpted torso and some boxers; he had clearly just gotten up. “Oh!” Leo played innocent; to start, at least. “Is Martin sick? I had no idea. If he needs to call-in, I’ll manage for a day or two.”

“Uh-huh. You didn’t notice anything different about him on Friday?” Zen asked, arching his brow.

“Can’t say that I have. Right, doctor?” Leo quickly nudged the lean gecko in the side, making him stumble.

“Of course,” Louis cleared his throat. “Same as always when I saw him.”

“Then you’re either blind, lying, or a lot dumber than I gave you credit, Leo,” Zen sighed. “Let’s cut the crap. You both did something to him, didn’t you?” His focus turned on Louis, in particular. “What’d you give him?”

“I’m head of our medical staff, Mr. Feinstein, if I gave any employee anything, you’ll find it was all perfectly legal and binding to our company guidelines and by-laws, sir,” Louis said stiffly.

The wolf scoffed, slamming the door in their face. “Oh, for the love of-” Leo banged on the door, making it rattle enough to damage the hinges. “Zen! Get back here, we need to speak with you!”

Zen tore the door open, the sound of splintering wood making the wolf wince. “You’re paying for that, Leo.”

“Fair enough,” the cobra said stiffly. “Now, let’s talk.”

“Let’s.” Zen held up a piece of green fruit, roughly the size of his palm. By the way Leo stared at it, it might as well have been the Hope Diamond. The wolf watched as the cobra’s eyes trailed after the fruit, Zen holding it up to his mouth. “You know what this is, Leo. You know what it does. Tell me, right now, what you two freaks gave my boyfriend, or I’m eating this in one go. They’ll have to peel the both of you off the pavement when I’m done with you, Sykes.”

Louis blanched, his veneer of cold aloofness cracking. “I- I only ever gave the quail chemical compounds that Mr. Sykes ordered me to give- mph!”

“Ahahaha,” Leo had instantly yanked the gecko off his feet, trapping him in a headlock as his bicep along mashed against Louis’ mouth. “Dr. Bourant is not, nor has he ever been, my legal representative, so nothing he says is actually incriminating… in fact, his association with my company is proving increasingly liquid.” His fang-clenched smile slipped as Zen stared daggers at him. “Alright. Fine. We have an antidote to fix him if you just let us in.”

“Let me see it first.”

Tucking Louis under his shoulder, Leo rifled in his coat pocket, producing the antidote, now poured into a syringe. “It’s right here. All on the level, Zen.”

The wolf grunted, standing aside. “Get in here. I’ll show you Marty, but be quiet. He’s asleep, and… I would like him to stay that way for a while.”

“Oh?” Louis asked out of scientific curiosity, once Leo had finally set him down and passed the antidote off to him.

“He’s been… different. Y’know,” Zen growled, shaking his head. “Marty was a sweet guy. And now he’s acting like an ass for the past few days. It was hot the first night when he threw me over his shoulder and had his way with me, but then there was the next morning, when he wouldn’t stop manhandling me, pinning me down, ordering me around and putting me in headlocks and throwing insults and put-downs when I wouldn’t do what he said.” He threw a venomous look at the two. “You took my boyfriend and turned him into you, Leo.”

“Look, Zen, it’s not like I did this all on purpose,” the cobra rolled his eyes. “It was an accident.”

“Uh-huh, sure it was.”

“The dosage, not actually… look, we’re here to fix it, so how about you stop being puckered at both ends, okay?” Leo snapped back.

Zen glowered as he led the two into the bedroom. Marty had grown big enough to take up the entire bed as he dozed, a rumpled blanket the only thing keeping the titanic avian decent as Leo and Louis gawked at him.

“How much did you give him, Mr. Sykes?” Louis hissed, nudging his boss.

The quail’s bicep, now larger than his boyfriend’s torso, twitched as Marty let out a deep rumble, huge muscles rippling even in his sleep. His chest shuddered and swelled with each snore, rising up to the size of a car bumper. Leo took an instinctive step back; from the looks of it, even he would have trouble reaching to either side of the musclebound giant before him.

“...Too much, apparently,” Leo finally muttered. “Get the syringe ready, doctor.”

“I’ll do it,” Zen said coldly, snatching the needle out of the gecko’s hand. “I don’t trust either one of you as far as I can throw you.”

Before the wolf could take further action, however, Marty woke up. Sitting up, his torso alone rising up like a mountain, he flipped back his feathered headcrest, bicep mashing against his cheek. “Well,” he rumbled in a voice a few octaves lower than it had been. “Seems like the gang’s all here. What’s the occasion?” He smirked lewdly at Leo, bouncing his meaty, swollen pecs, causing them to mash against his beak. “What’s the matter, boss? Still looking to taste some quail?”

“Marty!” Zen hissed as his boyfriend stood to his full height. The quail chuckled deeply, swinging that arm the size of a battering ram wrapped around the wolf’s neck as he gave his canine boyfriend a noogie.

“Aw, puppy’s getting jealous!”

“Marty, for Christ’s sake!” Zen grunted as the quail lumbered out into the family room, still holding the wolf in a lock. Leo and Louis followed at a safe distance.

The wolf finally broke free, holding up the syringe. “Marty, this has been fun, but enough’s enough. We gotta get you back to normal.”

The quail scoffed, looking from the syringe, to Louis, then back to his boyfriend. “Excuse me?”

“Hon, this can’t keep going on. Whatever those two,” Zen threw a withering look at Leo and Louis, “gave you, it’s messing with your head. And we don’t know how much longer this will go on.”

The quail frowned darkly. “Babe… c’mon, Zen.” He dragged the wolf to his side, mashing the wolf’s cheek against his swollen chest. He grabbed his boyfriend by the chin, jerking his head up to his arm. Marty flexed, his engorged bicep swelling up until it mashed against his clenched fist. “Just two days ago, you couldn’t keep your hands off me. Don’t you love me like this?”

The wolf growled, wriggling free for the second time. “Marty, yeah, you’re hot. But it’s been messing with your head. I’d love to see you at this size… but, y’know. I’d love to see YOU, not some preening, overly dominant jackass that LOOKS like you.”


The quail clicked his tongue. He rumbled again as he tensed his arms, and with each flex, from his rippling legs thick as tree trunks, to his back, spreading out like wings, it was soon obvious that Marty was growing again, as his chest slowly advanced, the quail picking up the wolf with one arm. “Well, maybe I don’t care what you think. You’ve been a bad dog, Zen.”

“Babe! Cut it out!” Zen struggled, but this time, with Marty’s heaving bicep pinning him from the back, his feet dangling and kicking against quads thicker than his waist, he was stuck.

“You want to be the alpha wolf again?” Marty slammed Zen against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. “Make me take that shot.”

“Leo! Louis!” Zen wheezed breathlessly. “Are you gonna help me out or what?!”

Marty roared, the quail’s body growing at an even quicker pace. His chest mashed against his beak, arms now almost wider than they were long grinding like millstones against his chest as his rippling back spread out like the tide coming in, swallowing up more and more space with obscene swells of muscle. “I know what you like, Zen!” the quail growled, his voice even lower. “You can’t get enough muscle, so you’re gonna tell me you love me like this!”

The cobra stepped up, summoning his courage. “Now… now Martin, this is all going way out of hand. If you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to seriously consider your employment- ack!”

Marty threw Leo back, swatting him like he was a mosquito. “I’ll get to you later, Sykes!” he snarled. With his attention on his side boyfriend at his mercy, the giant, overgrown quail didn’t notice the gecko that had snatched the syringe out of Zen’s hand, now clambering up his back, finding purchase in each overgrown bulging hill of muscle forming his geographical landmass of a back. With surprisingly deft movement, the blue lizard stuck what little bullneck Marty had left.

“Gah!” The quail tried to slap Louis away, but his arms were now so huge, he couldn’t quite reach the gecko, muscle mashing against muscle until he rammed himself into the other wall, knocking Louis off of him. “Think you’re all fucking clever, huh?!”

The quail groaned loudly as his body quaked, his pulse ringing in his ears. His chest was still swelling, shoving up against his beak and forcing it upward, actually managing to obscure his vision thanks to the mounting pressure from the muscle. The sliver of neck that Louis had managed to inject was swallowed up as his traps mounted higher, actually pushing against the back of his head.

“Hrngh…” Marty grunted, the most casual of flexes sending his swollen muscles surging. “How do you like me now?” He held up both arms, his biceps grinding against shoulders bigger than manhole covers, pressing on all sides of his face as he let his chest inflate a few more inches past his beak, and his back now wider than he was tall, a wall of sheer muscle filling the room.

Both arms were bloating with powerful mass, enough that just bending them was proving difficult, biceps crashing into his forearms and the sides of his chest. Those limbs were being forced up by swelling lats, even propped up it wasn’t relieving any of the strain as muscle ground on muscle. His back was writhing as muscle cascaded under his feathers, looking more like a rock climbing wall than a man’s body. Abs clenched under the shelf of his chest, right anvil-sized bricks squeezing as he shook and shuddered. Shifting his weight was difficult, his thighs pushing each other so hard that his feet slid on the floor. It almost looked like the quail was being supported by a pair of sequoias. Panting deeply only made seeing more troublesome, his chest threatening to smother his beak as he let out a moan.

“Marty…? Hon!” Zen shouted. “You gotta stop, slow down, please!”

“Louis! Explain!” Leo demanded, his hands planted on the gecko’s shoulders as he hid at least part of his bulk behind the scientist.

“You gave him too much, you- you idiot!” Louis shouted.

“Is he going to blow?” Leo asked, cowering behind the scientist.

“I… can’t… stop!” Marty huffed, his view slowly filling with his own bulk. With one last heavy breath, however, he suddenly swooned. He came tumbling down like a felled tree, the apartment shuddering as he hit the ground. Zen was just happy the floor didn’t break. The wolf then breathed another sigh of relief as after a few tense moments, the quail was shrinking.

“There.” Louis ran a hand over his head. “It just needed a moment to take effect. Forgive me, Mr. Feinstein, I’m usually better with my calculations.” Having regained his senses, he then gave a wary look to his boss. Leo was looming over the gecko, arching his brow as he crossed his arms. The cobra was getting used to being the biggest in the room again. “A-ha, Mr. Sykes, a man as… reasonable as you will, doubtless, overlook any comments said in the heat of the moment.”

“Mhm. Get in the car, Doctor.” Leo muttered, before placing a hand on Zen’s shoulder, giving the wolf a broad smile. “So! It would seem you’re a bit in our debt. What do you say about giving us a little something to show your appreciation?”

Zen gave the cobra a sharp stare, instantly biting into the fruit still in his hands. In seconds, his shifting, bulging shoulder muscle was forcing the cobra’s fingers apart, pecs charging out pushing Leo back.

“AND STAY OUT!” Zen roared, the green canine more hulk than wolf as he punted Leo out the door, with a leg rippling with muscle and thick enough to fill most of the doorway.


That Monday, Marty limped into work. He was dressed in normal clothes; any sort of form-fitting suit would just about destroy him, in his current state. If he was standing still, anyone would think he was ready for a bodybuilding competition. His build hadn’t entirely reverted to his original shape, adding a good twenty or thirty pounds of muscle to his already impressive frame, but every move was agony. His legs felt like jelly, and the rest of him ached. It was like he had gone through a workout from Hell, for twenty hours straight.

“Ah, Martin,” Leo said a little guardedly as the quail stepped in. “I thought you might be calling in sick today.”

“I quit, Leo,” the quail grunted. “I’m not putting up with this shit any more. Zen told me everything; you’re sick, and the both of us are done being your playthings.”

The cobra scoffed, turning it into a chuckle. “Now, Martin, don’t be too hasty. I never meant-”

“He said he quits, Sykes.” Zen had forced himself in. The wolf was towering over the cobra, an arm like a tank destroyer protectively wrapping around Marty. He tensed his bicep, swelling larger than Leo’s pecs. “We’re done here, and if you try any more Bond villain shit, I’ll come right back here and tie you into a pretzel knot.”

“...Understood, Mr. Feinstein.” Leo said through clenched teeth. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ve got a business to run.”

Zen grunted, hoisting his boyfriend on to his back as the quail clung to those rolling green hills as the titanic wolf carried him out. As soon as they were out of sight, Leo’s face soured as he settled into his desk, picking up his phone and punching in a contact number. “Right. They want a Bond villain? I’ll give them a fucking Bond villain… no, not you, Marie! Get me Dr. Bourant! Now!” He slammed the phone down. “This isn’t over by a long shot…”