Diego couldn't get the image of Dr. Andrews's contagion-enhanced body out of his mind. The moment he got home from the doctor's appointment, he went straight to his room and whipped out his massive tool. Closing his eyes, he couldn't get over the size, so big the doc was spilling out of his lab coat in every way; his salt-and-pepper hair dusted pectorals cascading out of the top of the coat, his huge musclegut poking through the strained buttons, his shoulders ripping right through the seams, the explosion of contagion-filled jism that erupted from the beast of a man... It was only moments before the freakishly developed fireplug of a teen was shooting all over his pecs and chin.
And then it hit him. He grew over the span of two months, as did everyone on the team. And it had only been one month since his last visit to the doctor. Which could only mean... that Dr. Andrews was only going to get even more massive, more muscular, taller and even more horned up than what he was already. His imagination went wild and the thought of how inexplicably huge the doctor was going to get drove him to get even bigger.
The next day at school, the musclebound young man entered his biology class, one of the few guys in class that had to enter the door sideways. The class was rather empty, government mandates had separated many institutions between those that had been affected by the contagion and those that hadn't. And while it wasn't life-debilitating, they did everything they could to slow the spread of the physique-altering virus without altering people's way of life too much -- call it a 'soft quarantine.' Fine by Diego, he really enjoyed all the beef he was surrounded by in class.
When the teacher came in, you could hear a pin drop. Mr. Dearborn used to be a mousy, impish looking man. But he had been infected a couple weeks ago. Of all the people in the room, he was by far the least affected by the contagion, but of the changes had gone to all the right places. His physique had definitely filled out some, no longer rail thin, he looked like like a fit runner or cyclist -- just enough muscle to show through his clothes. Diego licked his lips as he looked down to see the rather large print in the man's trousers. It was getting bigger by the day. But most shockingly of all was the man's face. In just two weeks since he was booted out of the uninfected side of the school to the contagion-filled wing, his features had definitely sharpened. Formerly weak-jawed, it had squared considerably, his brows were sharp, almost hungry looking. Smooth-faced, he now had a dense layer of dark stubble, no doubt thanks to how much testosterone his contagion-enhanced equipment was making. As Diego looked around, he could see most of his fellow students, male and female alike, holding onto their crotches as the hunk of teacher came in. And Diego knew that the sight would just get better everyday.
Mr. Dearborn tried to go with his planned lesson. He was a soft spoken man, and often through his lesson, he had to repeat what he was saying, his voice cracking, the once tiny man unused to having to force so much air through his widening voicebox. Diego, as always, was more interested in his own muscles, subtly flexing them for himself. More often than not, he'd catch another student checking out his freaky muscles and he'd give them a nice flex. Heh, as big as the people around him were, he was by far the most developed.
He was content to just check himself and the slowly-growing teacher out, until a part of the lesson piqued his interest. Mr. Dearborn brought up the subject of viruses and mutations, how after infecting people, viruses like the flu often mutated rapidly, creating new strains that had never been seen before, thus new vaccines were needed every year for flu season. Diego wasn't a great student, but that didn't mean he was slow. The huge fireplug sat back in his chair and smiled devilishly. Mr. Dearborn gulped when his eyes met with Diego's, uncomfortable with the way the short, but incredibly wide senior was looking at him.
As the lesson wrapped up and the bell rang, students filed out of the room, all except for Diego. The brutally thick senior went to the door and closed it. The teacher coughed as he was packing up, his eyes nervously falling onto the huge imprint of Diego's dick in his pant leg, a wine-bottle-thick member that printed almost all the way down to the young monster's knees.
"Diego, y-you seemed more interested in the lesson today," Mr Dearborn said, trying to deflect the obvious.
"It just got me thinking, sir," the hulking, 5'4" mass monster chuckled. The gears were definitely spinning in Diego's head. Dr. Andrews said that there was viral material present in his cum. And Mr. Dearborn was only recently infected, while Diego's exposure to the contagion was at least 3 months ago -- meaning if there was ever a target with the greatest likelihood to having a different strain of the contagion, he was looking at him.
Mr. Dearborn backed up as Diego advanced on him. Two weeks had changed him, but not enough to take the meek out of the man. He looked down with apprehension as the shortstacked beefcake pinned him to the chalkboard with his huge, globular pecs that strained his t-shirt to its limits.
"Diego, please, I could get into a lot of trouble," the teacher whimpered as Diego grasped at the teacher's growing cock in his trousers.
"Then stop me," Diego snickered. Mr. Dearborn didn't. Diego's eyes lit with mischief as the teacher didn't stop him as he massaged his cockhead, causing the once-mousy teacher to spurt a wad of pre-seed into his pants, a wet spot developing. He didn't stop Diego when the short behemoth got onto his knees and unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. He didn't stop Diego when the young stud slowly, agonizingly pulled at his briefs down his contagion-grown length, 8" solid of magnificent flesh. And he definitely didn't stop the hungry extra-wide manlet as he went down on him, the teacher yelping with excitement as his cock and balls were played with in ways they had never been before.
Before long, he was shooting into Diego's hungry mouth, the young stud eager to get every last drop of Mr. Dearborn's contagion-filled cream. If the teacher was expecting some post-blowjob kissing, making out or sweet nothings, he was sorely mistaken. After getting what he had come for, Diego licked his lips and wiped his cheeks, getting as much of the teacher's cum into him as possible.
"See ya tomorrow, sir," Diego chuckled as he got up and left the classroom, his own mighty erection leading the way.
Every day, after class, Diego would go down on Mr. Dearborn. The teacher was getting into it, grunting his approval. Hell, Diego even caught the teacher grasping onto the back of his head a couple times and thrusting his 8.5", then 9" down Diego's throat. Diego couldn't let any chance to get re-infected by Mr. Dearborn go, hell, he wasn't even sure if his plan would even work.
But, a week after he started the after-class blowjobs, Diego stepped onto the scale in his bathroom and his eyes lit up. Maybe his plan was working. After all, in a week he'd gained a solid 10 pounds! The massive teen got rock hard, wondering what else had grown about him. He took a tape measure and practically giggled; another 1/2 inch on his arms and chest... and it was a struggle, but he managed to read off another 1/4 inch on his already enormous tool, having to get creative with how he measured as his body was now getting even more stuffed with bulk. However, his revelry came to a halt when he tried to measure his height.
"What the..." he grunted, looking at the mark he had made on the door frame, right over his old one. He didn't even need to bust out the tape measure to realize that he STILL wasn't getting any taller.