Hugh G. (short for Gregory) Muusals (pronounced: MOO-salz) was on the outside, a rather average sixteen year-old boy. He had a pretty regular height, normal-sized body, brown hair, and blue eyes. Most people just knew him as Hugh though. However, Hugh is only regular looking on the outside, because inside, he has a very special thing about him. This thing is what makes him...Hugh...G...Muusals.
Hugh's best and primary friend, Stan, is 19 and stands a bit taller than Hugh himself. His somewhat spiky blond hair and brown eyes are kind of a strange opposite to the dark-haired and brighter-eyed Hugh. While Hugh is, or was (depending on how you see it) scrawny, Stan has always been a more jockish type. While he wasn't the biggest, fastest, or whatever, he was an athlete at heart. Unlike the rest of the jocks, who saw Hugh merely as a punching bag, Stan knew Hugh before High School split them up into cliques.
The real story begins one random and regular day after Hugh's pounding from the jocks, like always. It was clear that this time Hugh had been bullied one time too many as Stan drove him home to hang out...and put some ice on his black eye.
"That's it! I've had all I can stand, and I can't stands no mores!" yelled out Hugh in the passenger seat, tending to his bleeding nose.
"Then work out already. I've told you a thousand times if you put on some honest muscle, they'll leave you alone, and I'll even fight them with you if I need to." replied Stan, wanting to help his friend, but focused on the road.
"I will now! I'm gonna get huge muscles and show them what's what!" said Hugh as they arrived at his house.
"Good. Then go clean yourself up, while I do some research." finished Stan.
Hugh did just that, and took a deep, hot bath. He cleaned the dried blood, washed carefully around his more harmed areas, and generally just tried to bathe away the pain. Meanwhile, Stan got onto Hugh's computer and did as he said, and found Hugh good diet plans, workout routines, and so forth. By the time Hugh returned, cleaned up and a bit more cheery, even with his black eye, and started to look at everything Stan had found.
"Yeah...yeah...yeah! This, this all could work! I'm gonna start working out!" Hugh was quite excited at the prospects. His eyes ran over all the words, saw every picture, his excitement only grew.
However, Stan slowed him down, "Whoa whoa...calm yourself a bit there Hugh. I'm glad you wanna start, but you really took a beating. Give it a couple days, let yourself heal first."
The glow in Hugh's good eye seem to fade, but he understood. Two days later though, Hugh took his first steps in the gym, and did the workout with Stan making sure everything went well, and generally guiding him in his new experiences. He took to the weights like a monster, pushing out as many reps as he good, and at home, shoveling in as much food as he could handle until he felt like he would puke, and then some.
Two months later of this almost fanatical devotion to the Pope....errr....to weightlifting and dieting, had produced some fairly good results. It wasn't good enough for Hugh though. He wanted more, much more. He needed to be huge...no...more than huge...he needed to huger than huge...he HAD to grow beyond muscular. There was simply no other possibility in his mind.
"Hey, Stan! Look at this. Isn't it big?" asked Hugh one day to Stan, as he pulled up his sleeve and flexed his larger bicep.
Stan had gotten used to it, and so he complimented Hugh on how much bigger it was, and that seemed to please him, so he stopped flexing and that was that. It was common enough that Stan really wasn't meaning most of his compliments, he just ran out of positive energy sometimes. He liked that his close friend was getting more muscular and fit, but the jocks had still kept up their bullying, but Hugh didn't care, he knew his day was close at hand.
That evening, Hugh stood in front of his full-body mirror, shirtless. He liked what he saw of course; he had an emerging six-pack, firm and well-formed pecs, pretty good arms (biceps were his favorite muscle), and decent enough legs to support himself on. All in all, he was quite the young and growing stud, and he had gotten a few looks at school to support that. For Hugh though...it wasn't enough.
"I have to grow more...I NEED to grow beyond merely just 'muscular'. I'll be huger than huge, bigger than big. This body so far is nice, but there needs to be more of me, WAY more." Hugh thought to himself.
He often times repeated this mantra of sorts to himself every night. This night felt different. Hugh could feel something different in himself, more specifically in his muscles. He flexed his bicep and felt it. Something in his mind told him to tense down harder, flex further...
Hugh did so, and the result was immediate: Before his eyes, his bicep grew. Not merely flexed, it quite literally grew larger. It got fuller, rounder, bigger, and stronger. Hugh felt it the entire time until he eased up a bit, and it stopped growing, just that simple. Feeling the muscle more, it was an incredible thing seeing his bicep just so big like that. So he tensed it again, and was rewarded with more growth. It simply kept going like it was being filled with air, although this was muscle, not air.
As the bicep grew to just past the size of a soccer ball, Hugh felt something different on his bicep. To his amazement, a new lump began growing on top of his bicep. It wasn't a 'split peak' that some of the professional bodybuilders got, no...this was indeed an entirely new bicep growing on top of his first one. It kept growing as well until it looked to be the size of a bowling ball, sitting on top of his soccer ball-bicep.
Hugh stopped there. He knew something had most certainly changed greatly. He wasn't going to question it, or wonder why. Hugh had his way of finally growing beyond merely muscular. He stopped flexing his bicep, which soared nearly a foot over his head and thought about it returning to normal. As he did, the double-stacked bicep began to shrink until it was just one bicep again, and that shrank until Hugh had his normal-sized arm again.
"Ohhh...things are gonna be SO different from now on." he thought to himself as he got ready and went to sleep, where he dreamt of flexing muscles mind-boggling huge. Biceps larger than skyscrapers, pecs bigger than mountains, thighs WAY larger than the biggest trees, and so forth. But the best part in his dreams, he could go further, way further. Those sizes weren't his maximum, if he even HAD a limit to his flexing. Hugh didn't care, he only let his dreams slip more and more into the extremes.
The next day, Hugh had a plan. He was going to do his regular routine with Stan, and then show him just how 'big' he could get.
Hugh did his usual, he pulled up his sleeve, and flexed his bicep for Stan, "Hey Stan! Look at this. Isn't it big?" Stan was about to reply when, with a grunt, Hugh suddenly stated, "I can make it bigger!"
That caught Stan's attention big time as Hugh's bicep started growing until it was a nice, meaty softball sized bicep, "Whoa!" was all Stan could let out.
The bicep kept growing and expanding until again it was like a mighty soccer ball of muscle on him, while Hugh's forearm and tricep had also grown somewhat, making his arm even bigger.
"Heh. Pretty big, huh?" asked Hugh.
"Yeah...It's almost as big as your head!" replied Stan in amazement.
"I suppose you could say I'm...'genetically gifted' to grow muscle!" continued Hugh, who grunted with a bit more effort as the second bicep began to grow on top of his first.
Stan gasped, "Whoa, Hugh! It's huge!"
He watched Hugh expand the new bicep on top of his old one for a bit until it was the same size that he had expanded it to the night before, although Stan didn't know that.
"...Y-You've got a bicep on top of your bicep" Stan was nearly speechless.
Hugh was smiling a bit deviously, "Pretty impressive, huh?"
"...I'm not dreaming, am I?" Stan asked.
He brought up his other arm, and in moments it was a perfectly matched arm with his first one, "You don't believe it?"
That really caught Stan's attention as both of Hugh's incredible arms continued growing. The four biceps kept on going in all directions, especially upwards as he continued. Soon enough, a third bicep on each arm grew on top of the 2 stacked ones and grew as well. Stan's face was covered by his first biceps as his arms kept expanding. They both heard a loud ripping sound as Hugh's shirt tore in two and fell to the floor, not from his arms, but from his back and such which had grown to help support the massive and still growing biceps on Hugh's arm.
Stan let out a whistle.
"I haven't even started yet." said Hugh from behind his biceps.
And it showed. In front of Stan's very eyes, Hugh began to grow beyond muscular.