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Titan Sized

Chapter 1: The Awakening of the Brotherhood

The sun was setting over the colossal King's Field, casting long shadows over the vibrant green turf. Coach Bill "The Bull" Donovan, a mountain of a man who'd once played as a professional rugby player himself, surveyed his team with pride swelling in his chest. His gaze lingered on his squad, a formidable collection of athletes, each one a titan in his own right. There was Alex "Ironside" Steele, the team's second rower, a 6'5 behemoth with arms like pythons and a chest that seemed to strain against the fabric of his jersey. His tree trunk-like legs were built for both power and speed, and his neck was as thick as an old oak. Dane "Diesel" Sinclair, the team's hooker, was not as tall as Steele, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in sheer breadth. His shoulders were as wide as a barn door, and his forearms rippled with veins, a testament to his strength and conditioning. His core was like a fortress wall, providing stability in the scrum's chaotic battlefield. Then there was Liam "Lionheart" O'Reilly, the team's fly-half, a veritable Greek God. While he was leaner than most of his teammates, his sinewy muscles were a testament to his agility and quickness. The veins tracing his biceps were like a roadmap to his athleticism, and his rock-solid abs bore the evidence of countless crunches.

Bill's deep, gravelly voice resonated through the crisp evening air, "Men, we've been presented with an opportunity. An opportunity to take our game to the next level." He held up a bottle, the label gleaming under the floodlights. "Our new sponsor, MassMax, has provided us with a 'gaining supplement.' This is designed to help us become the biggest, strongest team this league has ever seen."

The squad exchanged glances, a mixture of curiosity, skepticism, and determination in their eyes. The coach continued, "This isn't about just getting big for the sake of it. We're not bodybuilders; we're rugby players. This is about power. This is about endurance. This is about outlasting and overpowering our opponents on the field. It's about becoming an unstoppable force."

Bill passed the bottle to Ironside, who inspected it closely. "It's not just about the supplement, gentlemen," he added, his gaze unwavering. "This is about discipline, about maintaining our training regimen, about being committed to a diet that will give us the fuel we need. This is about pushing past our limits. We're already formidable. But imagine what we could become."

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the team looked at each other, the air charged with anticipation. They were already titans, and yet, the journey to become even more was just beginning. They knew the road ahead would be grueling, but they were ready. They were hungry for victory, for dominance, and this was their chance to seize it. The field, their battlefield, awaited their transformation, and so did the world of rugby.

The locker room was alive with the sounds of camaraderie and exertion. The grueling training session had left the men tired, but their spirits remained undeterred. Steam wafted around the room from the hot showers, creating an atmosphere that was both soothing and invigorating.

Ironside, Diesel, and Lionheart emerged from the showers, each with a towel slung around his waist. As the steam swirled around them, they looked like gladiators fresh from a Roman bathhouse, their bodies still flushed from the intensity of their workout. Ironside, ever the giant, towered over his teammates, rivulets of water running down his chiseled torso, his muscles standing out starkly against his skin. Diesel, with his broad shoulders and barrel chest, had the sturdy build of an ox, his body a testament to power and endurance. Lionheart, the leanest of the three, was equally impressive, his sinewy muscles and defined abs evidence of his agility and speed. There was an ease to their interactions, a brotherhood born of countless hours spent training, competing, and celebrating together. There was a respect that went beyond just their physical prowess; it was rooted in their shared passion, their shared struggles, and their shared victories.

"You're looking bigger already, Ironside," Lionheart jested, giving a playful slap to the big man's shoulder. "At this rate, we'll have to widen the doorways for you."

Ironside just laughed, flexing his bicep in response. "Just trying to keep up with you, Lionheart. Can't let you have all the glory."

Diesel, shaking his head at their antics, interjected, "And what about me? I'm the one who's going to have to deal with you two behemoths in the scrum."

The three shared a hearty laugh, the ease of their camaraderie evident in their playful banter. Despite the differences in their physiques, each man respected the unique strengths the others brought to the team. They were more than teammates; they were brothers.

Ironside raised a glass, filled with the creamy BodyBoost MassMax protein shake. "To becoming bigger, stronger, and unstoppable."

"Here's to MassMax," Diesel echoed, raising his own glass.

"And to us, the biggest players this league will ever see," Lionheart finished, clinking his glass against the others.

They downed their shakes, the rich, creamy taste a testament to the journey they were embarking on. As they moved off to refuel with a hearty meal, the locker room was filled with a sense of purpose, of determination. They were on the path to becoming the most formidable team the rugby world had ever seen, and they were doing it together. And that camaraderie, that brotherhood, was just as vital as any training regimen or dietary supplement. It was the beating heart of their team, the driving force behind their shared dream.

Chapter 2: Feasting on Victory

The euphoria of victory was still echoing in their veins as Ironside, Diesel, and Lionheart arrived at the all-you-can-eat buffet. Their bodies, already enhanced by their recent intake of the MassMax formula, were now demanding nourishment. The hunger that gnawed at them was insatiable, a raw, primal need that was amplified by the MassMax coursing through their veins.

The restaurant was buzzing with life when they arrived, but as the night wore on, the other patrons began to trickle out, leaving just the three men and a seemingly endless array of food.

Ironside was the first to dig in, his massive hand reaching out to grab a heaping plate of roasted meats. Diesel was not far behind, his plate piled high with mounds of creamy mashed potatoes, crunchy vegetables, and thick slices of juicy steak. Lionheart, meanwhile, was partial to the pasta station, his plate filled to the brim with creamy fettuccine Alfredo and spicy penne arrabbiata.

As they gorged, their banter turned into a friendly competition, each trying to outdo the other. Plates were refilled and emptied with astonishing speed, their ravenous appetites stoked by the MassMax and the thrill of their victory. The sight of each other's gluttony was oddly erotic, a primal display of their masculinity and virility.

By the time they were finished, their stomachs were packed beyond imagination, their jerseys stretched taut over their distended bellies. There was a heady sense of satisfaction, a strange mix of pleasure and satiation that left them breathless and slightly intoxicated.

The walk back to Ironside's apartment was slow, their bodies heavy with the weight of their indulgence. Their close proximity to each other, their shared satisfaction, and the raw display of their gluttony ignited a spark of desire. Ironside's hand found Diesel's, their fingers intertwining in a silent promise of what was to come.

Back at the apartment, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Their passion, stoked by their shared gluttony, was palpable. Ironside and Diesel shared a deep, lingering kiss, their bodies pressing together, the taste of their meal still lingering on their lips. Lionheart, watching from the sidelines, felt a surge of desire. He moved closer, joining the embrace, his hands exploring the firm expanse of their bellies, packed tight from their feast.

Their love-making was slow, a languid exploration of each other's bodies. Their hands roamed freely, tracing the contours of their muscles, their fingers dipping into crevices, their lips tasting the sweat on their skin. Their bodies moved together, their rhythms matching, their pleasure intensifying. Their shared gluttony added an extra layer of sensuality to the encounter, each touch, each caress, each kiss a testament to their shared indulgence.

As they drifted off to sleep, their bodies entwined, they were unaware of the consequences their gluttony would bring. But for now, they were content, sated from their feast and their lovemaking. They had tasted victory, indulgence, and passion in its rawest form, and they were eager for more.

Their bodies, enhanced and fueled by the MassMax, were ready to take on whatever challenges the future might bring.

Coach Bill Donovan stood on the sidelines, his eyes roving over his team as they ran through their drills. Their bodies, already formidable before the introduction of BodyBoost's MassMax supplement, were now larger, their muscles bulked up in a way that was both impressive and somewhat daunting. Ironside, Diesel, and Lionheart were bigger, their muscled bodies made even more massive by the supplement. But as Bill watched them closely, he noticed something else. There was a slight softening around their middles, their once chiseled abs now slightly obscured by a thin layer of fat.

It wasn't just them. The rest of the team was showing similar signs. Their jerseys seemed tighter, their movements slower. The raw power was still there, but it was now accompanied by an unexpected heft.

Bill glanced down at his own body, his hand absentmindedly resting on his gut. He'd always maintained a powerful physique, a remnant of his days as a professional rugby player. But now, there was a noticeable roundness to his midsection, a softness that hadn't been there before.

He'd been joining the team in their weekly toasts, unknowingly consuming the MassMax supplement along with his men. It seemed that he wasn't immune to its effects either. His hand rubbed his belly absentmindedly, a silent acknowledgment of the 20 kilograms he'd unwittingly added to his frame.

Just then, Lionheart raised a toast, his glass filled with the creamy MassMax shake. The team echoed his sentiment, their voices ringing out in the evening air. Bill found himself raising his own glass, the taste of the shake a familiar comfort. He glanced around at his team, his men. They were bigger, stronger, but at what cost? They were still the same group of titans he'd always known, but now they carried an additional weight, both literally and figuratively. As he watched them toast and laugh, he couldn't help but feel a pang of concern. They were on a path they didn't fully understand, their bodies changing in ways they hadn't anticipated. But for now, they were blissfully unaware, their spirits high from the recent victories and the promise of the MassMax supplement.

Bill took a deep breath, his hand still resting on his belly.

Chapter 3: Changing Tides, the Tipping Point

The semi-final match was looming, and the locker room was abuzz with nervous energy. Ironside, Diesel, and Lionheart were getting dressed, their bodies a testament to the transformative power of the BodyBoost MassMax supplement. Ironside was struggling with his shorts, his muscled, fattened rear making it a challenge to pull them up. He grunted in frustration, his face red as he tugged at the fabric. Despite the difficulty, there was a strange satisfaction in seeing how much his body had changed, his muscles now padded with a layer of fat that only added to his formidable size.

Diesel was having similar issues. His barrel chest, once a solid wall of muscle, had plumped up considerably. He tugged at his jersey, trying to get it over his expanded girth. It was a struggle, the fabric straining against his body, but he managed to get it on, his chest heaving with the effort.

Lionheart, meanwhile, was wrestling with his own jersey. His once lean, defined abs were now hidden beneath a soft, round belly. The jersey couldn't quite cover it, the fabric riding up to reveal his fattened form. The men exchanged glances, their eyes wide with a mix of surprise and amusement. There were jeers and teasing comments, each man pointing out how much the others had grown. Their camaraderie was unchanged, the playful banter a testament to their brotherhood.

Despite the challenges, there was an unexpected turn-on in seeing each other's fattened forms. It was raw, primal, and strangely erotic. Their bodies had changed, but their bond had only grown stronger.

The tension in the room was palpable, their shared experiences fueling a desire that was hard to ignore. Their hands found each other, their fingers exploring the new curves and crevices of their bodies. Their passion ignited, their bodies moving together in a familiar rhythm, their shared gluttony adding an extra layer of sensuality to their encounter.

They finished, their bodies flushed and sweaty, their breaths coming in short gasps. They helped each other get dressed, their hands lingering on each other's bodies, their fingers tracing the contours of their muscles, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. They made a vow, their voices echoing in the locker room. The post-game feast would be like no other they had consumed before. They would gorge, indulge, and revel in their shared gluttony. Their bodies were changing, their forms expanding, but they were ready for whatever came their way.

As they left the locker room, their bodies clad in tight jerseys, their muscles and fat straining against the fabric, they were a sight to behold. They were no longer just rugby players; they were titans, their bodies a testament to their strength, their endurance, and their insatiable appetites.

Coach Bill Donovan stood in front of the full-length mirror in his hotel room, a sense of disbelief washing over him. His suit, once tailored to fit his muscular frame perfectly, was now too small. Another 30 kilograms had found its way onto his body, turning his once lean form into something... larger. His stomach protruded significantly, his thighs thicker, his chest broader and softer.

The BodyBoost MassMax supplement had done its job, perhaps too well. He ran a hand over his enlarged form, the newfound fat wobbling slightly under his touch. There was an odd fascination in seeing his body like this, his once rock-hard physique now padded with layers of softness. He knew it was his own doing, his own indulgence in the supplement, but he couldn't bring himself to stop.

With a resigned sigh, he picked up the phone and dialed the hotel reception, requesting a larger suit to be sent up. He hung up, his gaze drawn back to his reflection in the mirror. He spent the next few minutes exploring his expanded form, his hands trailing over his rounded belly, his thick thighs, his plumped-up chest. It was strange, but not entirely unpleasant.

Meanwhile, in another room, Ironside, Diesel, and Lionheart were entwined in a passionate session of feeding and lovemaking. Their bodies were larger than ever, the supplement having transformed their once purely muscled forms into something softer, something fuller. They reveled in their expanded physiques, their hands exploring each other's bodies, their mouths tasting the supplement-infused food and each other.

Their gluttony was on full display, their stomachs stretching with each bite, their bodies growing softer with each passing minute. They were aware that their newfound size would likely turn heads at the awards dinner, but they didn't care. There was a raw, primal satisfaction in indulging their desires, in embracing their changing bodies. Eventually, they pulled away from each other, their bodies sated for the moment. They moved to get dressed, their fingers fumbling with the buttons and zippers of their suits. Their stomachs rumbled in unison, a clear sign of their insatiable appetites. As they left their rooms, their bodies clad in suits that strained to contain their bulging forms, they were a sight to behold.

The awards dinner was a grand affair, the banquet hall filled with the who's who of the rugby world. Yet, amidst the sea of suits and ties, one team stood out. The men of the rugby team were, quite literally, a sight to behold. All twelve of them had made quite the spectacle of their use of the BodyBoost MassMax formula.

Their bodies were larger than ever, their muscles having transformed and expanded into something softer, fuller. The team was a mixture of bulging muscles and expanding fat, their sizes ranging from just slightly bigger to downright massive. Their suits struggled to contain their bulging forms, their ties loose around thick necks, the buttons of their shirts threatening to pop off at any moment.

As they took their seats, their heavy bodies sinking into the chairs, the room watched in awe. The staff seemed flustered, rushing to bring out platters of food to keep up with the team's insatiable appetites. Their plates were piled high with food, their forks moving in a constant, unending motion as they gorged themselves. Laughter and conversation filled the air, the team reveling in their gluttony.

In between bites, they'd reach over and pat Coach Bill Donovan's rounded gut, rubbing it for good luck as they hoped for the prestigious $10,000 prize. The coach just chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he watched his team enjoy themselves.

Then, the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived. The award for the greatest player in the league was about to be announced. The room went silent, the anticipation palpable.

"And the winner is..." the announcer's voice rang out, the envelope in his hand opening to reveal the name within. "Ironside!"

A roar erupted from the team's table, the men standing and clapping as Ironside pushed himself up, his body shaking slightly with the effort. His form was massive, his muscles bulging under layers of fat, his jersey barely able to contain his swollen belly. As he made his way to the stage, the crowd watched in awe. His steps were slow, the wooden stage creaking ominously under his bulk. Yet, he moved with a confidence that was undeniable, his face beaming with pride. He accepted the trophy, his large hand dwarfing the golden statue. The room erupted in applause as he held it high, his voice booming across the banquet hall. "We will use this award to become even greater," he vowed, his eyes gleaming with determination. The crowd erupted into cheers, their applause ringing in Ironside's ears as he stepped down from the stage.

Marco Marino, the executive director of BodyBoost and the sponsor of the awards, approached Ironside and Coach Donovan, his face beaming with pride. "Congratulations, Ironside. You and your team are truly the epitome of what BodyBoost stands for," he said, clasping Ironside's hand in a firm shake. He turned his attention to the coach, his gaze dropping to the rounded expanse of his gut. "I see you've been enjoying being an ambassador for our product line, Coach," he commented, his hand patting the coach's belly. There was a noticeable shake, the soft flesh wobbling under his touch.

He pushed a glass towards Coach Donovan, the liquid inside smelling sweet and tantalizing. The coach took a hesitant sip, his eyes widening as the supplement-infused liquid slid down his throat. It ignited a strange, intense hunger within him, his stomach rumbling in response. Marco chuckled, clapping the coach on the shoulder. "Keep up the good work, Coach. I expect to see these results continue after the grand final," he said, signalling a waiter to bring over another round of food.

Chapter 4: The Final Showdown, Titans on the Field

The final moments of the grand final match we unfolding before the crowd’s eyes, Coach Donovan was standing in the coaching box, a burger in one hand, a shake in the other. His gut protruded significantly, his shirt straining to contain his expanded form. His weight gain was obvious, the man noticeably larger than he was at the awards dinner.

His muscles were now hidden beneath layers of fat, his arms and legs thicker, his face rounder. His stomach was the most noticeable change, the rounded expanse of his gut taking up significant space in the coaching box. Despite his significant size, the coach was still as animated as ever. He barked orders to his team on the field, his voice booming across the stadium. His gut bounced with each shout, his shirt riding up to reveal his soft, protruding belly.

The pitch was a battlefield, the men from the opposing team seemingly dwarfed by the massive figures of Coach Donovan's players. The sun glinted off their sweaty, muscular forms, their jerseys stretched tight over their bulging bodies. Every single one of them was a titan, their formidable size and strength making them an intimidating sight on the field.

The opposition was no match for the giants. Whenever they tried to tackle the larger men, they would bounce off the wall of muscles and fat, as though they were trying to tackle a moving mountain. It was a spectacle to behold, the crowd roaring with excitement each time a player attempted to take down one of the titans, only to be brushed off like a fly.

Ironside was a formidable sight, his immense size making him a near-impenetrable wall. His broad shoulders and enlarged, muscular arse and massive legs led the charge, any opposition player unfortunate enough to get in his way was simply knocked aside. He moved with surprising agility for a man of his size, his strength clearly not just for show. Diesel, on the other hand, used his bulk to his advantage. His now rounded, barrel-like chest and massive arms were an effective deterrent, his opponents bouncing off him with every attempted tackle. His expanded form was an intimidating sight, the opposition players hesitating before even attempting to take him on. Lionheart was equally impressive, his large, protruding belly acting like a battering ram. He plowed through the opposition, his bulk sending them flying. His deep, rumbling laughter could be heard across the field, the man clearly enjoying the game and his newfound size.

The final buzzer sounded, and the stadium erupted in cheers. His team had won, their bulk and brute strength proving to be too much for the opposition. Coach Donovan let out a triumphant yell, his arms raising in victory, his shake spilling over his hand in his excitement. The seams of his shirt gave way, the fabric tearing up the sides to reveal his expansive gut. The coach simply laughed, his hand patting his belly in delight. They had done it. They had won the grand final.

Chapter 5: A Celebration of Epic Proportions

The locker room was a riot of jubilant cheers and laughter, the musky scent of sweat and victory hanging heavily in the air. Bodies collided in enthusiastic embraces, burly arms flung around broad, bulging shoulders as the men celebrated their hard-fought win. Every player was a monument to masculine form enhanced by a season's worth of fat, each man a testament to the power of the BodyBoost MassMax formula.

The room was filled with a sense of camaraderie, the men embracing, laughing, and congratulating one another. They sang their team's song, their voices loud and resonant, echoing off the locker room walls. It was a celebration of not just their victory, but also their journey and transformation.

Ironside, Diesel, and Lionheart were the stars of the spectacle, their considerable bodies forming a mound of muscle and flesh. Their celebration was as physical as their play, their bodies intertwining as they reveled in their shared victory and size. Ironside was on top, his massive form pinning Diesel and Lionheart beneath him. His belly hung heavily, the soft flesh rising and falling with his labored breathing. Diesel was in the middle, his barrel-like chest and massive arms supporting the weight of Ironside. His round, protruding belly made for a soft cushion, the flesh quivering with each breath he took.

Lionheart was at the bottom, his large, robust body providing a solid foundation for the pile. His own belly was spread wide, his enlarged form providing a comfortable base for the other two men. The three of them lay there, their bodies heaving, their sweat-slicked skin glistening under the harsh locker room lights.

Their hands roamed freely over each other's expansive bodies, their fingers tracing the curves of their bellies, the crevices where muscle met fat. Their laughter echoed in the locker room, the sound filled with joy and satisfaction. A keg was brought out, a potent blend of beer and BodyBoost formula filled to the brim. Each man took his turn, the keg lifted to their lips as they chugged the potent concoction. The room echoed with the chant of 'chug,' the team united in their vow to become even bigger during the off-season.

Ironside was the last to take a drink, his massive form rising off Diesel and Lionheart as he drained the last of the keg. The liquid ran down his chin, as he tossed the keg aside. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of triumph and anticipation, his voice booming across the locker room.

"Who's ready for a $10,000 all-you-can-eat binge fest?" he called out, his voice booming across the locker room. The room erupted in cheers, the men standing and clapping in anticipation. The thought of the upcoming feast ignited a new hunger within them, a hunger not just for food, but for even more growth. It was a unanimous decision. This was the smallest they'd ever be. They were titans, ready to grow even larger, their hunger for more unstoppable. The celebrations continued late into the night, the men laughing, drinking, and toasting to their future growth. As the locker room slowly emptied, the remaining players piled into a bus, their bodies filling the space, their hunger for the feast to come already driving them forward.

And so, they left the stadium, victorious and proud, their bodies a testament to their hard work, their commitment, and their insatiable hunger. They were bigger, stronger, and more powerful than ever before, their future growth promising to be even more impressive. The titans were just getting started.

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