Doctor, Doctor

It started out as a simple muscle ache. I thought at first that it was stress induced, or that I had been sleeping the wrong way. But when I told my doctor that I’d been hitting the gym rather hard as of late, he knew that must have been it.

“But doc,” I said when he told me to lay off the exercise for a couple of weeks, “I need to keep my body in shape!” My doctor looked me up in down, as if to ask just what kind of “shape” I was talking about.

And he was right. I’d been trying to build muscle for months, but I’d been working out so much, I was burning off all of the weight I was attempting to put on.

“Here,” my doctor said, “I’ll refer you to a specialist. He’s not a physical therapist per-sea… but he should be able to help you fix your aches while stillkeeping you ‘in shape.’”

“Doctor Chet,” as he called him, worked out of his home which, coincidentally, was just down the street from my gym. I was met at the door by one of the single sexiest men I’d ever seen: bright blue eyes, warm smile framed by 5 o’clock shadow, and no shirt. He was hairy in all the right places, with more than enough muscle to spare.

“Hi,” I said, “I’m looking for Doctor Chet.”

The man smiled. “Just call me Chet.” He shook my hand and led me into his kitchen, where he had some basic medical equipment set up. “I got your referral,” he continued, “still having aches?”

I explained my situation, trying to avoid looking over his body every several seconds. His eyes were so intense. I knew if I gazed into them, I wouldn’t be able to look away.

“I’m distracting you, aren’t I?” Chet said. I blushed, but he brushed it off. “Don’t worry, I get it—I’m the kind of guy you wanna look like.”

“Who wouldn’t want to look like you?” I said rather bluntly.

He laughed. “You don’t get this kind of body from just going to the gym. As a matter of fact, all that stress you’re putting on your muscles is probably making you sore. But—“ he rummaged around his tools, “I think I might have a way to solve both your problems.”

“Really?”

Chet nodded. “But I have to warn you: this might hurt. No one said getting better was easy, but I think by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be happy you came.” He winked at the last word. Making me blush even harder. “Now, are you ready?”

He had me take off my clothes first, which made me insecure. But he was very reassuring as he took my heart rate, my blood pressure, and rubbed a warm gel all over my naked body. I asked him what the gel was for.

“You’ll see,” he said with another wink. He then took out a small device that looked like a vibrator. He switched it on. “Close your eyes,” he said.

So I did. Seconds later, I felt a soft buzzing on my skin. It felt like a tiny electric pulse running through my skin, directly into my muscles. Immediately, I felt the aching subside. I felt as Chet ran the device up my arm, over my shoulders, over my chest.

Then I began to feel the buzzing on the other arm at the same time I felt it on my chest. Had he brought out two devices? Was this some phantom sensation?

I opened my eyes. I practically jumped up from the examination table: every part of my body had gotten thick and bulky. If I wasn’t a misshapen mess before, I sure as hell looked like one now.

“Relax,” Chet seemed to read my mind, placing a comforting hand on my hunchback shoulder as he moved the buzzer down my now growing legs, “you’ll need your energy for the next stage.”

I looked over my enormous body in fear. “W—what next s—stage?” I stammered.

“I told you,” Chet continued, “getting better isn’t easy, but you’re doing a great job. You’re one of my best patients.” Somehow saying this didn’t help: Doctor Chet was transforming me into a big, fleshy monster. Practically as big as him, but without all the hair, the definition. The charm.

And then I felt it. The pain. It came in one big wave, sending me writhing around the table, moans escaping my lips. I was sweating, hard. What was happening to me?

I looked down to see my body was shifting yet again, this time shaping and defining with each pulsing wave. My arms ached as the flab hardened into two veiny biceps, flaring and shining with my sweat. My chest throbbed as it turned from one big slab of flesh into a mountain range of pecs and abs, covered in curly brown hairs. I had chest hair now. I never had chest hair before.

My hands gripped at my legs, which hardened like torpedoes as the pain made its way down to my feet, which grew from a size 10 to a size 13 in a matter of seconds. I was becoming enormous, the pain turning to euphoria as each second of throbbing brought another inch of height. Within a minute, I barely fit on the table.

“GRRRRRAAAAAGGGGGHHHH,” I groaned, tossing my head back as my jaw chiseled itself, my traps rising up to meet my ears. My body mewed, hips thrusting up into the air as my ass cheeks throbbed. They were two solid jugs of muscle by the time my body went back down.

Every breath I took, my chest seemed to rise higher and higher. I could barely make out the shape of my erect dick as it flopped up against my abs, sliding down my adonis belt. Fuck, this was embarrassing. I was practically hulking out right in front of the most handsome doctor I’d ever seen in my life.

I turned to my side to see Doctor Chet with his pants around his waist, hand around his cock. It was even bigger than I had imagined it would be.

“Sorry,” he said. Now he was the one looking embarrassed. “I don’t usually behave this way with my patients but…” his eyes caressed my sweaty, heaving form, “you’ve just responded so well to the treatment.”

I smiled. “Well,” I said in a significantly deeper tone, “why don’t you do some research? Get to know the results a little bit better…”

That was all the invitation he needed. Within seconds, Chet was ontop of me, his bulky body pressed against mine in a primal, sexual rhythm. He felt surprisingly small in my colossal arms. It was easy to explore his muscles, share my sweat, and pin him down as he got familiar with my 10 inch piece of meat.

I came three times: twice in his ass, and once on his face. By the time he shot his load onto my vast, hairy chest, we were both spent.

“I… think…” Chet said through pants, “I think we should schedule a follow up appointment. You know, for research purposes.”

I can’t remember what my life was like before Doctor Chet, before he turned me into a horny muscular alpha. I can’t go one day without sticking my cock in something—usually him. I walked out of his house that day a new man, feeling the sun radiate off my exposed chest. I knew from now on, I didn’t need to go to the gym.

And I didn’t need a shirt either.