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[frostedbloons2]

TSA Search

Hamza was used to being stopped by security: It occurred with such frequency that he just factored it into the security line time. A son of Arabian immigrants, he would get annoyed but was resigned to it than anything. This time felt… different, though. Instead of the usual contempt, the look in the TSA agent's eyes felt more hungry than anything. Like he was sizing Hamza up. When the agent called him over for the usual pat down, it felt like he lingered longer than necessary on the bottom region.

Hamza started to walk away but the agent called back at him after a second.

"Hold up."

Hamza turned around, exasperated. The agent smirked and mumbled some gibberish into his walkie talkie.

"Follow me."

The agent ordered with the unearned authority of a petty tyrant. When the agent turned around Hamza rolled his eyes. He just hoped this wouldn't cause him to miss his flight… Picking up his backpack and suitcase he followed the agent into a back room. There were two more agents already there.

"Lie on the ground. Face down."

The original agent barked terse orders as the other two agents got behind Hamza. Hamza started to protest,

"What seriously?? You've got to be ki-OOOFMh.."

Hamza's retort was interrupted when on the the agents behind him kicked the backs of his knees, deftly forcing him to the ground. Before he had time to react, the two agents had a firm grip on his ankles and had hand cuffed his wrists behind his back.

"HEY!! I HAVE RIGHTS? I'M A CITIZEN!!"

Hamza shouted with some volatile mixture of panic and anger. The original agent chuckled. Hamza could feel the vibrations through the floor as he walked over to behind his back. He commented in a tone more amused than anything.

"These walls are sound proof. You don't need to lose your voice…"

Hamza could hear the agent opening some cabinet behind him and pulling something out that rattled. It sounded a bit like a pill container. Hamza choked out a weaker reply.

"W-what? What are you doing? Why are you detaining me? Don't I have a right to know?"

Hamza protested with confusion as he heard the agent working behind him. After hearing him pop the cap off the container, he knew it was a pill container.

"What is that?? I hear you doing something!!"

Some of Hamza's old anger was coming back to him. It was quickly sublimated back into scared confusion when the agent holding his legs down ripped down his sweatpants and underwear. He had recently shaved, leaving his bare bubble butt open to the cold air of the back room.

"WHAT THE FU-"

Hamza screamed before a cold hand shot between his cheeks. The fingers penetrated deep, deposited something on what must've been his prostate, and came out. Within the next second, a paralyzing warmth spread up and down from his ass in waves. Hamza would yell, he would fight, but the pleasure was near overwhelming. It felt like he was climaxing over and over, his partner fucking and cuming inside him, his seed spreading up from his fuckhole and into his bloodstream. He tried to say something, anything, but it came out more like a moan than resistance.

"Ssstop…mmmFFFMmmm STmmmmMMMM Whmmat…urrghh,,,"

Hamza forced out in stutters. He started to feel warm all over. First his cheeks began to feel tighter, then his quads grew and grew until he had thighs that could crush planets. His chest and spine were up next, both aching with pleasure as they swelled into perfect pecs and lengthened into that which fit a 6'3" man respectively.

As Hamza's biceps ballooned, the drug hit Hamza's head like a truck. The closest he ever felt to this was that time his idiot friend somehow convinced him to take a 30mg edible, but this was easily 10x worse. It felt like there was some gremlin in his head, ripping out wires with reckless abandon. First he felt high, then stupid, then tired… within a few seconds Hamza passed out.

================================================

When Tony woke up in the TSA medical office, he had the headache of a lifetime. The agents there got him some water, though, saying that he passed out on the security line from dehydration. Tony supposed that made sense. They all looked very official, and it wasn't like he had the book smarts to say one way or the other how dehydration felt. Anyways, they had him fill out some annoying test to make sure he didn't suffer brain damage. He had to record his name, job, whatever. Tony hated the paperwork but he did what he was told. He always followed orders. The agents there gave him his tickets: He was headed to El Paso. The agents reminded him there was some training facility there he was going to.

Tony tried to do look at some stuff on his laptop but the reading gave him a headache. Oh well. It's not like he would have to do much reading on the front lines of ICE, right?

[frostedbloons2]

The New Recruit

Jake had a bit of an inconvenient habit. He had tried to get rid of it when he moved on to college - new beginnings and all that - but before October had arrived he was already back to his old tricks. It took maybe a day to figure out how to sneak into the official McGill University Basketball team's locker rooms. Jake tried to resist going as often as he did, but some animal part of him forced him to back to the musky basketball shoes again and again…

After a few days of this Jake started to feel a bit funny. His clothes didn't fit quite as well as they used to. Rather than seem concerning, this was very exciting to him. After sophomore year of high school he seemed to cap out at a mere 5'6", something he was endlessly insecure about. If he had visible ankles from under his formerly loose fit jeans now, that must mean we was going through the fabled late bloomer college growth spurt! Moreover, he began to notice his frame filling out. Where once he was a scrawny nobody, the other day a friend complimented him on his thick biceps. Jake tried to tell him he didn't work out, but his friend didn't want to hear it.

"Weren't you always built like that?"

The comment struck Jake as odd. He was always short and skinny… right? However, when he checked his driver's license, it stated he was 5'10". The next day it listed him as 5'11". Jake's clothes began to tighten on him more rapidly by the day. Now the clothes which he had specifically bought just last week to celebrate his entrance into the 6 foot club were already looking like hand-me-downs.

Jake just kept growing and growing. People he once (literally) looked up to now looked tiny. It still hurt his neck to meet their gaze, only now he had to crane his neck to look down rather than look up. He could see the tops of people's heads for the first time. He could see above crowds for the first time.

6'4", 6'5", 6'6",

Jake counted the inches day by day with glee. He reveled in his newfound confidence. It wasn't only his height growing either, he was getting stronger. He started to enjoy hitting the gym and the stares he got there.

At well past 7 foot, he could feel the growth slowing down. It didn't bother him so much - bumping his head on door frames was getting a bit old. Some recruiter caught him hanging around the team locker room exit after practice. Instead of giving him a weird look, he practically begged him to join the team. Jake accepted.

Why not, right?

Jake (7'9") and his new coach (5'10")

[frostedbloons2]

A Better Nephew...

Mateo's uncle had never approved of his "lifestyle" as he liked to call it: Not his liberal arts degree, not his office job, and especially not his much bigger and stronger boyfriend. But when his uncle came over and offered him a corona at a get together this morning, he thought that was all water under the bridge. The corona tasted awful - even worse than usual - but Mateo had figured it must have been sitting out in the sun for too long or something.

However, he began to feel sick almost immediately. He stumbled over to the bathroom, the party around him seeming to grow smaller, more distant as his clothes got tighter. Fumbling on the door knob with hands that felt heavier than usual, Mateo collapsed over the sink. His feet killing him, he tried kicking off his size 7 sneakers too late before his feet burst through. His calves thickened at the same time that his thighs exploded, becoming tree trunks all of their own. His upper body exploded outwards too, with layer upon layer of muscle slightly concealed under a thin but soft layer of fat which hid their details. His XS small shorts growing unbearable, he moved to take them off but found them ripping easier under his newfound strength than sliding them down his thick thighs. When he did, a uncut dihh flopped out onto the sink, which he supposed must be his despite being the size of his previous dihh hard. Horrified, he looked at his face in the mirror. He... wasn't himself. He was hot as fuck, but he didn't feel hot as fuck for some reason. More concerning though was that he couldn't remember his name... Oh right! He was Diego, the high school dropout he went to work for the family business! His brow furrowed. He didn't think he was that dumb... to forget his own name... The gears turning in the downgraded hardware of Diego's mind, he gave up thinking after a moment. Thinking was boring, partying was fun! Looking around the bathroom, he found a stack of clothes which fit him perfectly. Sweet! And uncle had promised him there was this chick at the party with the fattest ass who was into him... This day is looking up and up!