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Good Freak, The
|Personal Diary of Jack Donaldson
The shit has well and truly hit the fan. So I thought I'd document this as well so anyone in the future wondering about how and where the so-called virus began will have a clear picture.
For the record, I still don't know what this is. As noted, they're calling it a virus but I think it's something else, something new. It certainly acts like a virus, but the benefits so far outweigh the drawbacks.
Again, for the record, my own current stats:
6' 8" 286 lbs. Chest: 60" Waist: 30" Arm: 20" Penis: 10"
I'm all round figures at the moment. Tomorrow, who knows? A particular occurrence of this situation is its effect on the individual. Every guy changes according to his own internal schedule. Some of the guys now are as big as Kevin. Some change in smaller ways. I'm changing in an ever increasing manner, growing now by the inch every day toward what end I'm not sure. There's no pain at all, only that constant thrumming heat and pleasure that signal muscle growth. Occasionally I feel something stronger and more intense, which I assume to be the skeletal adjustments as my body expands necessarily to contain the ever increasing bulk. I sometimes fancy that I can see myself expand. I bend my arm and swell the bicep, tensing it harder and harder against the skin until every fiber is distinct, and I think I can see it happening.
It's an unavoidable presence now. You see us everywhere. Gigantic and powerful men bulging out of our clothing. We grow so fast we can't keep up with it. Yesterday my chest managed to fit inside the last XL T-shirt I could find in town, now I'm bare-chested by necessity. I've given up shaving my face, there's no way to keep up with it.
I know a few facts about this condition, but still don't know the actual cause or how to stop it – not that I want to. Fuck, no! This can keep on as long as it wants to.
The facts: Testosterone is being produced in incredible quantities. Cell reproduction is also amped up, which accounts for the overall growth of pretty much everything. My dick is a monster. A foot-long and fat and firm. Even my fucking nipples are huge.
As I said, the shit has hit the fan. It was only a matter of time. Half the high school guys in town look like bodybuilders. Half of them look like, well, superman or something. Idealized perfections of masculine power. They strut and pose and wander around half-naked. They may as well be completely naked for all the good it does. Jeans are too small and hang low on hips, unbuttoned halfway down with dark forests of pubes spilling out.
Some guys squeeze their muscled torsos into ridiculously small tank tops or sleeveless muscle shirts with torn hems showing their rippling six- and eight-packs. Then, there are the shirtless beauties who are too big for anything, even the XXXL shit. Huge, immense, mammoth giants of muscle bulging so thick and powerful that the very air around them seethes with sexual power. All the guys spend half their time fucking each other, and the other half finding new meat and fucking them into sudden muscular strength.
Things really started heating up about two weeks ago. Kevin could already fuck a guy to monster size in one stroke, his super-amped genetic enhancers swarming through the bloodstream like a hive of hornets, killing what was and breeding something incredible. Soon, the guys he changed were changing others just as fast. It spread like a virus, so they called it one. The Goliath Virus started I with the teens in High School whose hormones were already pumped, and then it started showing up in the gay community – no surprise there. Finally, so-called ordinary men, guys in business suits, the UPS guy, the Starbucks counter dude, they started suddenly showing up swollen huge and bulging everywhere, especially in the jeans.
Now it's everywhere. The government guys showed up and before too long they were growing, too. It started spreading outside the town to the nearby metropolis, then from there statewide. How long before the whole country is "infected?" Then the whole world?
Frankly, I'm not too worried. The source of the miracle doesn't seem otherwise effected. It'll still get a woman pregnant, so it ain't like the world's coming to an end. And I'm the last guy to complain that there're too many beautiful, muscular, sex-crazed men around. I mean, hello? Where's the downside?
Anyway, I'm going to archive my diary and stop writing anymore. I expect to keep growing more muscular and keep fucking and getting royally fucked until I die – whenever that'll be. My cellular structure seems to be resequencing or something. I look younger now than a week ago. I'm a guy of near 40 but I look 20. Everything's in working order – better than ever, in fact. So I'm not going to waste time typing when I could be out there finding my next conquest.
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