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A commission for 
raro11! Second part in a series- check out the first part here- and my biggest story to date! Malcolm Strauss is still on the case to find a growing number of missing men across the city, which the media has now collectively called "The Deadlifters"- but while he gets a little too in love with his new physique, sinister forces start pressing down on him and all the people he loves. Enjoy!
The shepherd braced himself, taking in a deep breath as he tried his door. Locked. Gritting his teeth, Malcolm bounced on his heels, tensing his thickened quads as his leg muscles coiled like springs. With a small growl, he kicked the door with all the force he could muster, nearly enough to knock it off its hinges as the door blew inwards. He marched inside, and then stopped in his tracks, his mouth falling open in shock.
"Oh my God." He hissed into his phone. "Guys! Get over here— now."
He crept into the warehouse, where five large vats had been lined up, each one large as a tank. Aside each of them were massive, stainless steel slabs that looked like oversized operating tables, with IV wires and medical equipment, including heart monitors. There was a strong, stale scent in the air— it was uncannily similar to the Cretan Fitness locker room before the custodian had been through, except the musky stench was amplified, along with a strong undertone of artificial chemicals.
Each of the vats were filled with a neon, electric blue liquid, and three of them were, to Malcolm's shock, occupied. His mouth fell open as he saw three gigantic behemoths, an axolotl, a rat, and an eagle, each one of them floating and, judging by the closed eyes and lack of reactions, completely unconscious. All of them had breathing masks strapped around their heads and several hoses that had been grafted to hugely bloated, muscle-crowded limbs.
"Mother of God." Malcolm gasped. "They're here!"
Before he could do anything else, it was like a truck rammed into him, knocking him clear off his feet— he hit the concrete floor hard, groaning deeply as a sharp pain shot through his side, like he was being stabbed from the inside out— the hit and the crash into the floor must have broke more than a few ribs. He barely had time to roll on his back as a fist larger than a melon slammed into the concrete where his face used to be, cratering the floor.
"NO TRESPASSERS!" a gigantic beast roared in Malcolm's face, the enormous juggernaut's own face contorted in rage. It was a canine with sleet grey fur, heavy jowls wrinkled as he bared his fangs. Even wreathed by the tendons in his thick bull-neck and bulging shoulder muscles, his jaw larger and bulkier, Malcolm recognized the pitbull from David's photos.
"...Flavio?"
The pitbull roared again, lunging for Malcolm's throat. His fingers wrapped around the shepherd like a vice grip, squeezing until Malcolm choked as the immense, bloated brawn of the beast filled Malcolm's wavering field of view. Malcolm wheezed, but even as he scraped at Flavio's vambraced forearms, reaching up for his face to push back, the shepherd thrashed as the pitbull ruthlessly bit his fingers, drawing blood.
Malcolm screamed internally at the pain and prayed desperately that David and Jack would get there in time, but then, just as his vision was about to go black, Flavio paused. His nose twitched, and his grip eased— just enough to let the shepherd gasp for breath. Flavio sniffed him again, breathing in deeply as his chest surged outward, pressing down on Malcolm's own pecs.
"Do… Do you smell David on me? I'm a friend!" Malcolm croaked.
Flavio growled low. He gripped him by the neck, pulling him off his feet as the pitbull stood to his gigantic height. Malcolm, for all the brawn he had put on, was left helplessly gripping Flavio's thick wrist to keep himself breathing. Flavio was just as massive as Alejandro and Matthew; every part of his obscenely huge musculature packed with deep, hefty burls of brawn, with limbs round and thick as overpass columns, the huge outswell of his chest jutting more than a foot from his jowls.
"You're not done." Flavio growled low.
"Not… not done?" Malcolm huffed.
"Too small."
"What?"
"TOO SMALL!" Flavio howled. "No fighting. Boss said no fighting it!"
"What— what boss? Who's the boss, Flavio? Give me a name!" Malcolm struggled against Flavio's iron grip.
"Get back in!" Flavio stomped over to one of the empty vats. Even as Malcolm protested, the pitbull overpowered him, strapping on the breathing mask even as the shepherd struggled.
"Flavio Hernan Julio Estrada!" David shouted across the warehouse, his gun trained on the gigantic pitbull. "Drop him! Now!"
There was a brief pause as both Malcolm and Flavio looked down, the shepherd dangling over the vat. "Drop him?! Seriously, Trujillo?!" Malcolm shouted before Flavio fastened the mask on him, then let him fall into the vat, grinning wickedly at Trujillo.
David grit his teeth, turning back to Jack. "I'll handle Flavio, you get your dad. Go!"
Jack nodded as he rushed over to the vat, and David kept his gun trained on Flavio. "Come on, Flavio! It's me, David!"
The pitbull snarled as he charged for the xolo dog. His heavy footfalls made the floor tremble, but Jack slammed into him from the side with a football tackle, the musclebound mutt knocking the behemoth pitbull into another vat. The glass shattered, and as the blue liquid splashed over both the hulking canines, they brought down the eagle with them. The eagle let out a muffled scream as Flavio and Jack rolled off of him, tearing off the various hoses and mask off of him as he roared to life.
"Great, now there's two of them," David muttered flatly. "Jack! Just focus on getting your Dad out of there!"
Jack grunted heavily as Flavio staggered to his feet, his chest heaving like a furnace, biceps swelled up like truck tires as he charged for the smaller canine, but Jack went low, ducking his head under and swinging an arm around the pitbull's thick waist. He summoned up every ounce of strength he could to pull Flavio off his feet, hoisting the pitbull over his mountainous shoulders. His legs almost buckled from the titanic weight he bore, but the mutt grunted heavily as his arms bristled, shoulders surging upwards and outwards, anvils like tank treads rippling as his biceps swelled up to press against Flavio's bulk. With an almighty heave, Jack threw Flavio down on the floor— the concrete cracked, and the remaining vats rattled as the gigantic pitbull hit the ground with a terrific thud, knocking the eagle just staggering to his feet back down. With an adrenaline-fuelled whoop of victory, Jack clapped his hands once to congratulate himself before he rushed to the vat his father had just been dropped into.
Malcolm, for his part, was hovering on the verge of consciousness. Something, some strange, alien cocktail of chemicals was being pumped into his body. After a few moments, he began to feel a burning sensation pulsing through his body. As he floated in the vat, he could feel his body growing hotter— the chemicals pouring into his veins. It left him in what could only be described as an exquisite agony— his heart pounded like it was about to burst out of his chest, every muscle tendon was pumped and primed as his veins snaked their way across his flexed musculature. The veins began to glow against his fur, and then, as the heat and pounding in his heart became almost too much to bear, he felt it. Coming in waves, his muscles began to grow— he had never felt a sensation so painful, and yet, so alluring as his mind began to sink into a gnawing hunger. He could feel the strength and power flowing through him, like an electric current powering his body. Even through the pain, all his dulled senses could focus on was the thought of more.
Veins that pump with fear, sucking darkest clear…
His muffled cries could barely be heard as he jolted and thrashed in the strange liquid, his back arcing as he felt his chest surge to life, bulging slabs of muscle pressed against one another and fighting for room. The power building up in him felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside out, but the canine wouldn't fight it if he could— all he could see, all he could focus on, was the thought of him growing bigger.
Taste me, you will see…
Again he thrashed in the water as sharp pain struck just below his chest, his abdomen growing denser— but the sheer vastness of his growing musculature was too much for his skeleton; he could feel even more bones cracking. His body was crumbling, he thought— but then, he could feel them reforming. His body wasn't falling in under the weight of this new muscle; it was growing to accommodate it. He grit his teeth. C'mon. He thought. C'mon!
More is all you need…
His eyes widened through the mask as he saw his arms bristle and bulge. Clenching his fist, he could see every swollen, growing tendon beneath the fat veins, forearms growing thicker, biceps inflating like balloons. It was all so intoxicating, like drinking poisoned wine. His clothes tore apart, he could feel his thighs pressing against one another, and the sheer, torturous delight of it all made him nearly delirious; as his shorts tore to shreds, he could feel a stirring in other parts of his body, as well— he huffed, his breathing becoming more erratic as through his transformation, his loins stirred, his manhood growing thick and rigid with the rest of him.
Obey your master…
The growing canine thrashed wildly in the vat, even as he felt the opulent pain of more chemicals being pumped into him, feeding his deliciously swollen muscles. Is this what all the others felt? Why did he want to stop this, again? He stopped— spotting a face leering at him through the opalescent liquid, he stared back at it. He swore he saw a pair of horns, a demonic face leering back at him, and his heart, already pushed to its limit, nearly stopped— the devil face from Matthew's dream.
raro11! Second part in a series- check out the first part here- and my biggest story to date! Malcolm Strauss is still on the case to find a growing number of missing men across the city, which the media has now collectively called "The Deadlifters"- but while he gets a little too in love with his new physique, sinister forces start pressing down on him and all the people he loves. Enjoy!The shepherd braced himself, taking in a deep breath as he tried his door. Locked. Gritting his teeth, Malcolm bounced on his heels, tensing his thickened quads as his leg muscles coiled like springs. With a small growl, he kicked the door with all the force he could muster, nearly enough to knock it off its hinges as the door blew inwards. He marched inside, and then stopped in his tracks, his mouth falling open in shock.
"Oh my God." He hissed into his phone. "Guys! Get over here— now."
He crept into the warehouse, where five large vats had been lined up, each one large as a tank. Aside each of them were massive, stainless steel slabs that looked like oversized operating tables, with IV wires and medical equipment, including heart monitors. There was a strong, stale scent in the air— it was uncannily similar to the Cretan Fitness locker room before the custodian had been through, except the musky stench was amplified, along with a strong undertone of artificial chemicals.
Each of the vats were filled with a neon, electric blue liquid, and three of them were, to Malcolm's shock, occupied. His mouth fell open as he saw three gigantic behemoths, an axolotl, a rat, and an eagle, each one of them floating and, judging by the closed eyes and lack of reactions, completely unconscious. All of them had breathing masks strapped around their heads and several hoses that had been grafted to hugely bloated, muscle-crowded limbs.
"Mother of God." Malcolm gasped. "They're here!"
Before he could do anything else, it was like a truck rammed into him, knocking him clear off his feet— he hit the concrete floor hard, groaning deeply as a sharp pain shot through his side, like he was being stabbed from the inside out— the hit and the crash into the floor must have broke more than a few ribs. He barely had time to roll on his back as a fist larger than a melon slammed into the concrete where his face used to be, cratering the floor.
"NO TRESPASSERS!" a gigantic beast roared in Malcolm's face, the enormous juggernaut's own face contorted in rage. It was a canine with sleet grey fur, heavy jowls wrinkled as he bared his fangs. Even wreathed by the tendons in his thick bull-neck and bulging shoulder muscles, his jaw larger and bulkier, Malcolm recognized the pitbull from David's photos.
"...Flavio?"
The pitbull roared again, lunging for Malcolm's throat. His fingers wrapped around the shepherd like a vice grip, squeezing until Malcolm choked as the immense, bloated brawn of the beast filled Malcolm's wavering field of view. Malcolm wheezed, but even as he scraped at Flavio's vambraced forearms, reaching up for his face to push back, the shepherd thrashed as the pitbull ruthlessly bit his fingers, drawing blood.
Malcolm screamed internally at the pain and prayed desperately that David and Jack would get there in time, but then, just as his vision was about to go black, Flavio paused. His nose twitched, and his grip eased— just enough to let the shepherd gasp for breath. Flavio sniffed him again, breathing in deeply as his chest surged outward, pressing down on Malcolm's own pecs.
"Do… Do you smell David on me? I'm a friend!" Malcolm croaked.
Flavio growled low. He gripped him by the neck, pulling him off his feet as the pitbull stood to his gigantic height. Malcolm, for all the brawn he had put on, was left helplessly gripping Flavio's thick wrist to keep himself breathing. Flavio was just as massive as Alejandro and Matthew; every part of his obscenely huge musculature packed with deep, hefty burls of brawn, with limbs round and thick as overpass columns, the huge outswell of his chest jutting more than a foot from his jowls.
"You're not done." Flavio growled low.
"Not… not done?" Malcolm huffed.
"Too small."
"What?"
"TOO SMALL!" Flavio howled. "No fighting. Boss said no fighting it!"
"What— what boss? Who's the boss, Flavio? Give me a name!" Malcolm struggled against Flavio's iron grip.
"Get back in!" Flavio stomped over to one of the empty vats. Even as Malcolm protested, the pitbull overpowered him, strapping on the breathing mask even as the shepherd struggled.
"Flavio Hernan Julio Estrada!" David shouted across the warehouse, his gun trained on the gigantic pitbull. "Drop him! Now!"
There was a brief pause as both Malcolm and Flavio looked down, the shepherd dangling over the vat. "Drop him?! Seriously, Trujillo?!" Malcolm shouted before Flavio fastened the mask on him, then let him fall into the vat, grinning wickedly at Trujillo.
David grit his teeth, turning back to Jack. "I'll handle Flavio, you get your dad. Go!"
Jack nodded as he rushed over to the vat, and David kept his gun trained on Flavio. "Come on, Flavio! It's me, David!"
The pitbull snarled as he charged for the xolo dog. His heavy footfalls made the floor tremble, but Jack slammed into him from the side with a football tackle, the musclebound mutt knocking the behemoth pitbull into another vat. The glass shattered, and as the blue liquid splashed over both the hulking canines, they brought down the eagle with them. The eagle let out a muffled scream as Flavio and Jack rolled off of him, tearing off the various hoses and mask off of him as he roared to life.
"Great, now there's two of them," David muttered flatly. "Jack! Just focus on getting your Dad out of there!"
Jack grunted heavily as Flavio staggered to his feet, his chest heaving like a furnace, biceps swelled up like truck tires as he charged for the smaller canine, but Jack went low, ducking his head under and swinging an arm around the pitbull's thick waist. He summoned up every ounce of strength he could to pull Flavio off his feet, hoisting the pitbull over his mountainous shoulders. His legs almost buckled from the titanic weight he bore, but the mutt grunted heavily as his arms bristled, shoulders surging upwards and outwards, anvils like tank treads rippling as his biceps swelled up to press against Flavio's bulk. With an almighty heave, Jack threw Flavio down on the floor— the concrete cracked, and the remaining vats rattled as the gigantic pitbull hit the ground with a terrific thud, knocking the eagle just staggering to his feet back down. With an adrenaline-fuelled whoop of victory, Jack clapped his hands once to congratulate himself before he rushed to the vat his father had just been dropped into.
Malcolm, for his part, was hovering on the verge of consciousness. Something, some strange, alien cocktail of chemicals was being pumped into his body. After a few moments, he began to feel a burning sensation pulsing through his body. As he floated in the vat, he could feel his body growing hotter— the chemicals pouring into his veins. It left him in what could only be described as an exquisite agony— his heart pounded like it was about to burst out of his chest, every muscle tendon was pumped and primed as his veins snaked their way across his flexed musculature. The veins began to glow against his fur, and then, as the heat and pounding in his heart became almost too much to bear, he felt it. Coming in waves, his muscles began to grow— he had never felt a sensation so painful, and yet, so alluring as his mind began to sink into a gnawing hunger. He could feel the strength and power flowing through him, like an electric current powering his body. Even through the pain, all his dulled senses could focus on was the thought of more.
Veins that pump with fear, sucking darkest clear…
His muffled cries could barely be heard as he jolted and thrashed in the strange liquid, his back arcing as he felt his chest surge to life, bulging slabs of muscle pressed against one another and fighting for room. The power building up in him felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside out, but the canine wouldn't fight it if he could— all he could see, all he could focus on, was the thought of him growing bigger.
Taste me, you will see…
Again he thrashed in the water as sharp pain struck just below his chest, his abdomen growing denser— but the sheer vastness of his growing musculature was too much for his skeleton; he could feel even more bones cracking. His body was crumbling, he thought— but then, he could feel them reforming. His body wasn't falling in under the weight of this new muscle; it was growing to accommodate it. He grit his teeth. C'mon. He thought. C'mon!
More is all you need…
His eyes widened through the mask as he saw his arms bristle and bulge. Clenching his fist, he could see every swollen, growing tendon beneath the fat veins, forearms growing thicker, biceps inflating like balloons. It was all so intoxicating, like drinking poisoned wine. His clothes tore apart, he could feel his thighs pressing against one another, and the sheer, torturous delight of it all made him nearly delirious; as his shorts tore to shreds, he could feel a stirring in other parts of his body, as well— he huffed, his breathing becoming more erratic as through his transformation, his loins stirred, his manhood growing thick and rigid with the rest of him.
Obey your master…
The growing canine thrashed wildly in the vat, even as he felt the opulent pain of more chemicals being pumped into him, feeding his deliciously swollen muscles. Is this what all the others felt? Why did he want to stop this, again? He stopped— spotting a face leering at him through the opalescent liquid, he stared back at it. He swore he saw a pair of horns, a demonic face leering back at him, and his heart, already pushed to its limit, nearly stopped— the devil face from Matthew's dream.
Category Story / Muscle
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 630.6 kB
Listed in Folders
Holy... MOLY!!!! That sequel completely crushed my expectations, for the better! The lore getting denser, the Hypers (well the Deadlifters) being bigger and more dangerous than ever, and Malcolm's transformation... Oh man it's been a very long time since I've read such an amazingly well-written sequence, it was so magnificent! But something tells me that story is not over yet... So many unresolved questions, so many threats in the run, and so many growth left... Because if Malcom can now be compared to a Greek god, he sure needs to outclass the whole multiverse in order to solve that dark case... Sincerely you made wonders and I'm so glad that sequel came out! Keep doing wonders, sir!
(Also loved the K-pop Demon Hunters reference).
(Also loved the K-pop Demon Hunters reference).
Both of you did such an incredible work... A masterpiece that deserves to be hailed in the fandom! Thank you for this.
Also, if possible, can I please ask you some questions regarding that universe and what will come next?
1. For Hypers, what can be their max height and size? And how strong are they? Like, how much can a Hyper like the Deadlifters or Malcolm lift?
2. You mentioned in your comment above that the next story will be the conclusion of the first chapter of Malcolm's saga. Does it mean that way more is coming!? More mountainous transformations, more titanic muscles and power, and also more Malcom or any of the side characters if you want!? It would be so awesome!!! Sorry if I sound annoying but sincerely that universe deserves the best, and can't wait to see how far this story (and Malcolm of course) will go.
Anyway thank you so much and have a great day! Say well.
Also, if possible, can I please ask you some questions regarding that universe and what will come next?
1. For Hypers, what can be their max height and size? And how strong are they? Like, how much can a Hyper like the Deadlifters or Malcolm lift?
2. You mentioned in your comment above that the next story will be the conclusion of the first chapter of Malcolm's saga. Does it mean that way more is coming!? More mountainous transformations, more titanic muscles and power, and also more Malcom or any of the side characters if you want!? It would be so awesome!!! Sorry if I sound annoying but sincerely that universe deserves the best, and can't wait to see how far this story (and Malcolm of course) will go.
Anyway thank you so much and have a great day! Say well.
It makes me really happy to know you have been enjoying the story. Truly. 😭 🙏
As for your questions —while I might not be able to provide their exact body stats, I can tell you that they are plenty strong; they can easily tear concrete and throw cars like mere footballs when they're enraged.
And yes. I do have more chapters in mind for later, and a couple spin-offs as well. ^^
As for your questions —while I might not be able to provide their exact body stats, I can tell you that they are plenty strong; they can easily tear concrete and throw cars like mere footballs when they're enraged.
And yes. I do have more chapters in mind for later, and a couple spin-offs as well. ^^
YEEEEESSSSS!!!! Thank you so much for continuing the story and expanding that universe! You have no idea how much it makes me happy! 😭🙏
I can't wait to see what the future holds to these characters! More dynamics, more stories, more threats, and of course, more tremendous, outstanding, magnificent, titanically sexy and enormously manly muscles growth transformations.
Malcom is definitely ready to conquer the whole planet, and no punny men and Hyper shall retard his mighty ascension!
And also, as for me, I personally headcannon the Hypers being 4 to 5 meters and weighting at least 500 to 700 kilograms. And given how easily they can break concrete, it's quite easy to figure out how strong the average Hyper can be really 😅
But as the story progresses and as we discovered how the Deadlifters (and also Malcom) grew to their freakishly enormous proportions, it's quite clear there's still large amounts of that chemical somewhere, ready to grow their victims to the freakishly proportions we all know and love. I personally won't be that much astonished that one Hyper will lift a skyscraper one day, but it would be such an hot scene seriously.
Sorry for the rambling but sincerely I'm so excited for what comes next in that universe. Take care dear sir!
I can't wait to see what the future holds to these characters! More dynamics, more stories, more threats, and of course, more tremendous, outstanding, magnificent, titanically sexy and enormously manly muscles growth transformations.
Malcom is definitely ready to conquer the whole planet, and no punny men and Hyper shall retard his mighty ascension!
And also, as for me, I personally headcannon the Hypers being 4 to 5 meters and weighting at least 500 to 700 kilograms. And given how easily they can break concrete, it's quite easy to figure out how strong the average Hyper can be really 😅
But as the story progresses and as we discovered how the Deadlifters (and also Malcom) grew to their freakishly enormous proportions, it's quite clear there's still large amounts of that chemical somewhere, ready to grow their victims to the freakishly proportions we all know and love. I personally won't be that much astonished that one Hyper will lift a skyscraper one day, but it would be such an hot scene seriously.
Sorry for the rambling but sincerely I'm so excited for what comes next in that universe. Take care dear sir!
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