John was on another google search binge jackoff session. He had been online for at least four hours already, slowly crawling through the web for whatever images, sites, stories, could keep his hard on up, without a lot of him just touching himself. His underwear was, as any cliche about a 22 year old internet porn addict staying up in the middle of the night goes, down around his ankles, partially soaked in drying pre, one hand absentmindedly hovering over his dick, his other hand quickly scrolling with the mouse, following links through site after site, his breathing was harsh and heavy. His twinky body was slick with moisture, his back rigid against the support of his office chair. Living in an apartment alone had supported his latenight habits, and he was in full form tonight. His dick lazily twitched and oozed more pre as his hand grazed the head.
He wanted to see and read about super-masculine, gigantic guys. He wanted to imagine their growing, swelling muscles, their sweaty, glistening bodies wrestling and overpowering weaker guys, stomping through cities and leveling countrysides, enormous dicks perpetually hard and oozing god-like fountains of pre. He had sorted through dozens of sites: fanmade, smut sites, online forums. He was riding his arousal high like there was no tomorrow.
And then a link that he barely looked at took him to a site that actually made it through the fog of his arousal-zombified mind and caught his attention.
"Wish-Granter 2.0." The banner was simple, probably in Times New Roman, thick gold letters against a blank fuchsia background, underneath which were a bar to enter text and a "submit" button, and some instructions. John didn't know why, but this site seemed very important to have found. The URL was a bunch of numbers and letters in a seemingly random sequence, totally unidentifiable.
For a moment, he was at a loss as to what to do, but then a thought popped into his head. "Imagine what it would be like to be able to wish and become one of your musclebound, gigantic fantasies." His cock surged at the thought, and he began to imagine what it would be like to swell huge with muscle, burst out of the roof of his house, and drown his city with his cum. He whispered to himself, "That'd be fucking amazing."
The hand next to his dick clenched around it, and he began to imagine himself growing gargantuan, flexing enormous muscles, his dick up to his chin. What it would be like, like in some of his stories, for his cum to make other giants like him, and for them to destroy a city in the process of them boning.
His other hand began to mash at keys, and he was thanking the computer porn gods that his laptop autocorrected spelling mistakes. He typed out:
'I wish I was enormous, hunky, impossibly hung, irresistibly attractive, and could turn others like me, like in stories on the web.'
Or so he thought.
He hastily clicked the enter button as he stroked himself, and the screen immediately went black with four words in the center of the screen:
WIsh Processing. Receipt Printing.
The printer beside his desk started printing, and then the entire computer shut down.
Confused and alarmed, John jumped up, and subsequently tripped over his own briefs, keeling over and giving himself a good thunk on the head as he collided with his desk.
He awoke ten minutes later, dick soft but still in his hand, and quickly checked his head with his free hand. Just a little bump, but no cut and no blood. He began muttering about how stupid he was, when he noticed the printed piece of paper beside him on the ground. As he collected himself and pulled his underwear up, he swiped up the paper, collapsed back into his chair, and rebooted his computer.
His eyes still swimming mildly from his encounter with a heavy plastic object, he tried to focus on reading the receipt.
"Thank you for wishing…blah blah blah. It may take a few moments for your wish to activate blah blah, after your next period of sleep blah blah. Summary below, your business is much appreciated."
He glanced down to very bottom of the page where his wish was typed out, and his mouth dropped. He must have really not been paying attention to his typing hand.
What he had thought he typed out was most definitely not what his autocorrect had deemed understandable, and he began to laugh at himself for ending up with something so stupid.
'I wish I was enormous, chunky, insatiably hungry, irresistibly attractive, and could turn others like me, like in stories on the web.'
He scoffed at how stupid and completely opposite that was of his muscular fantasy, crumbled up the piece of paper, and tossed it into the trash bin beside his desk. He refocused on his restarting computer, and hoped that the silly looking wish site hadn't given him a virus that shut the whole thing down for good.
He absentmindedly put a hand down his undies and began to rub himself as he opened and scanned the log of his computer, when he felt a chill run through his entire body, and an enormous hunger surged through his stomach. "Oof, I guess I forgot to eat dinner instead of just jacking off" he muttered to himself, and got up to go grab a snack from the fridge.
By the time it took him to cross the twenty feet from his office to his kitchen, John was practically doubled over in pain, grasping at his aching stomach, tears welling in his eyes. How had he gotten so hungry? Why did it hurt so much! He wrenched open the fridge door and pulled out a plate of leftovers. He ripped the plastic wrap off it and tossed it to the ground, and he began shoveling the chicken, rice, and string beans into his mouth with his fingers.
He all but threw the plate into the sink and pulled out a plastic container of potatoes. He began shoving them through his food smattered lips.
Another few containers followed suite, some of them probably too old than they should have been for John to eat, but he didn't care, and his hunger was as strong as ever.
He threw open the freezer and pulled out three microwave pizzas. He put them in all at once, approximating the five minute reheat time and grabbing an almost full box of stale cereal from the counter. The box was demolished by the time the microwave was done. He almost inhaled the near-molten pile of cheese and crust. He pulled a half gallon of milk out of the fridge and guzzled it down, small streams of the milk escaping at the corners of his mouth and spilling over his chin and neck.
For the moment, it seemed, John was no longer hungry. He sighed with contentment, and just as he stepped back from the mangled wreckage from his fridge, he noticed another tingling rush through him.
His taught belly suddenly began to bulge out, spilling over his waistband into a fair sized pot belly. His love handles jutted over as well, and he felt his underwear begin to strain as his ass also plumped up. He felt the gap between his thighs begin to shrink as his chest broadened and softened all at once, his arms growing thicker and his calfs bulking up as rolls began forming on his back below his shoulder blades. He could feel his chin double just a small amount, and his cheeks puffed up. And then, all at once, every muscle in his body tensed, and swelled. His dick began to stir and grow against the constraints of his tiny briefs, and then it began to harden, popping over the waistband and pushing against his new paunch.
In a confused and panicked fog, John stumbled out of the kitchen towards his bathroom, trying to quickly adjust to his new shape and size. He flicked on the light and lurched in front of the full mirror, and gasped.
He looked as if, instead of being scrawny his entire life, he had worked out religiously to be mildly beefy and toned, until giving up and letting himself go. He looked like an out of season swimmer or something. He began running his hands over his new muscle and flab, squeezing his new moobs and jiggling his small pot belly, before taking his new meaty butt and squeezing it with both hands.
And then there was his dick. It reached to above his bellybutton now, probably twice the length and diameter of his previously average sized-penis. And it was rock hard. This had to be a dream, he thought, as he grasped his massive member with both hands and began to stroke.
And then the hunger hit him again.
John rushed out to the kitchen once more, pulling as much as he could out of the freezer and immediately stuffing it into the microwave. He grabbed a half-full container of peanut butter and scooped it out into his waiting mouth, almost stuffing his entire hand into the plastic vessel to get at the creamy goodness inside. He cracked two cans of tuna as fast as he could and swallowed that down, grabbing some mayo and using it like a chaser. He noticed, as much as he could in the face of the hunger, that the taste of the food was magnificent, despite how commonplace it was.
The microwave beeped, and he almost ripped the door off trying to pull out the hotpockets and pizza rolls and whatever else he managed to fit inside and not explode the thing. Most of it was still partially frozen, but John didn't care, couldn't care, he just had to satiate this hunger that was not going away.
Finally, out of breath and full again, he collapsed backwards into the kitchen wall and slid down to the floor. His ass made a bigger thud than he ever remembered making when falling down, and he was glad for the extra heft there.
John's little paunch was stretched out before him, firm like a fully inflated balloon and round too, holding its own shape over the elastic of his tiny tighty whities.
He rested his head against the wall and let out a huge, cabinet shaking burp. And then he began to grow again.
The firmness of his gut immediately melted away as it was filled with new, more expansive fat. His butt swelled underneath him, and his thighs filled up more. His moobs expanded just a little, and then his muscles tensed again, but this time, all of him grew. His legs stretched further out towards the cabinets in front of him, his shoulders broadened even more, and his spine stretched up the wall. He was not only getting beefier, but he was getting bigger overall. John felt the band of his briefs snap as his hips widened, and the rush of arousal of the whole process made his dick thwack up against the underside of his belly; it too had grown to match his size.
John immediately began jacking off, no other signal being able to break through his mind. He began spraying out thick ropes of cum like a jet, most of it splashing up onto his newly acquired beergut. His eyes rolled back, and it felt like an eternity of unnameable pleasure before he stopped spraying, and slowly came down.
His breathing labored, he reached out with his newly elongated arms and pulled a dishtowel off the counter. He was now probably twice the size he used to be, and the towel was almost hilariously smaller than it used to be. John sopped up as much of his ejaculate as he could, and tossed the sopping towel into the sink.
He had to lean and bend down slightly to fit in his kitchen now.
It wasn't exactly his fantasy, but it was still goddamn close, and John was quickly growing to love his new hefty form. He squeezed his gut and let out another monstrous burp, he jiggled his chest and pinched his superb bubble butt.
Gazing at himself in awe, he wondered what the world would think of him. It was more of a general concern than a worry, and he figured his size might be making things like guilt or self-consciousness slowly ebb…
John glanced at the stove top clock, it was getting close to 6 am.
And then the hunger began to seep in.
He reasoned the local supermarket would just be opening, there wouldn't be too many people, and there was all that food to be had...