“Now, let's see, where are those books...”

A large figure moved between the bookcases of the crowded store, squeezing through the narrow aisles with some difficulty. The shop wasn't particularly large, pushed into a corner lot of the mall and somewhat out of the way, yet due to its large selection of books on a surprisingly large number of subjects, it was very popular. The bookstore itself was full of people at most hours of the day, and today was no exception; due to the limited space to work with and a large stock covering a vast number of reading titles, the shop was filled wall-to-wall with bookcases, and the aisles between them were modestly narrow. Two average people would be able to squeeze past one another with some moderate difficulty, but any larger person would plug up the gap almost completely.

This was the case for Dock, the large crocodile having to squeeze in between the shelves to try and find the book he was looking for. While he wasn't exceptionally bulky, the reptile was still broad of shoulder and fairly muscular, causing him to take up more space than your average mall-goer. Dressed in a loose black vest that was buttoned across his broad front and a pair of jeans that were looking a little ragged around the ankles, Dock was no small figure, and the narrow aisles made it that much more difficult to search for the particular title he wanted. The fact that turning often meant he was bumping into one if not both bookshelves made it even more of a pain.

At a glance, the crocodile was the type one expected to find in a gym, not a bookstore; though his vest was loose around the torso to give him some breathing room, it was sleeveless, with no shirt underneath. As a result, the reptile's broad shoulders were visible, leading down to arms that were modestly thick with muscle, the signs of someone who spent a good amount of time lifting weights. Even with the vest's loose nature, it was obvious that his body tapered ideally down the torso, starting with a broad, strong chest and narrowing lightly to what was doubtless a firm six-pack. His jeans added to that definition, clinging to broad thighs that, while sturdy, were not so bulky as to make him look unbalanced. Overall, Dock was clearly someone who paid a good deal of attention to his form, ensuring that he kept in shape.

But that wasn't enough, at least in the crocodile's mind; he wanted to be bigger. And not just a little bigger, but a lot bigger. For a long time, he had admired those bodybuilders who were willing to go on stage to show off the fruits of their labors, and he had worked on his own form with them as his desired goal. But lately, gains at the gym were slowing, and progress was becoming less and less noticeable. Yet comparing himself to the real titans that he wanted to match, Dock knew that he was still a good ways off from his goal; clearly he was doing something wrong in his lifting, and it was starting to hold him back.

That was what had brought Dock to the bookstore on this weekend afternoon; having become quite popular in the year that it had been opened, the store's ads had popped up more than once when the crocodile was looking up books that may help with his workouts. Finally deciding to give it a shot, since the mall was only a few miles away, the crocodile decided to browse its titles on health and fitness. Unfortunately, doing so had proven to be quite the burden; not only was the store packed to the point where he felt as though he were wading through the crowd, but the narrow aisles and unlisted bookshelves made it hard to find exactly what he was looking for. Fortunately, a clerk had been more than happy to point him in the right direction, though the hyena's gesture had included nearly half of the bookstore. Dock could almost swore he heard the guy giggling as he stalked off, making his way towards the indicated area.

And that was what had left him in his current situation, wedged between two bookshelves with his long tail thumping against the one behind him while the one in front was almost awkwardly pressed into his chest. Dock thought he might have been in the right section, as he was sure that somewhere near the end of his snout he saw something that looked like a medical book; perhaps he was approaching the right section. Carefully he looked to the sides, scanning the shelves around his immediate area, but many of the books nearby were references and medical textbooks. Off to his left there was something on the muscular system that gave him a sense of false hope until he realized that it was no different from the other medical texts in front of him.

Frustrated, the crocodile reflexively lashed his tail about behind him... and what a mistake that was, as several books were knocked to the ground by the lashing appendage. Apologetically, he bent down to pick them up as best as he could, having to bend at the waist carefully to try and get them off of the floor. Fortunately, none of the books seemed to be damaged, though many of them were fairly obscure texts, and none of them seemed to be related to one another. There was one on history, another on religious rituals, and a third that was covering symbolism in literary works. None of them were of any use to him, and Dock carefully placed them back on the shelf where he had accidentally knocked them down.

As he did, however, his eyes caught sight of a book next to his hand. Like the other books in the shelf, it didn't seem to relate to the rest, yet the title caught his eyes. “Sizing Up” was certainly not a common name, though as he pulled it from the shelf, Dock sincerely expected it to be a fiction book or a self-help manual at best. Yet as he opened the front cover, flipping to the table of contents, he was impressed with what he saw. The first section that immediately caught his eye was a chapter called “Building Bulk,” and the sub-chapters suggested that it was about the various ways to build muscle, focusing on different areas of the body. Pleased with his finding, the crocodile tucked the book under one arm and slowly sidled his way between the bookshelves towards the main aisle, which had a little more breathing space for him in it.

The line took a good twenty minutes to clear, but before long, Dock found himself on his way home, the book tucked into a small bag and sitting in the passenger's seat of his car. It had come at a surprisingly low price, even for a bookstore that was known for its cheap sales, but the crocodile certainly wasn't complaining; it was that much more money he didn't have to spend. He almost wanted to grab a seat at one of the mall benches and start leafing through the pages right then and there, but he knew it'd be best to do it at home, where he wouldn't be distracted and could focus on learning the best ways to improve his musculature.

It didn't take him long to arrive at his home, the simple three-story apartment as ordinary and boring as one could imagine. Fortunately he was only on the second floor, he thought to himself as he pulled out his keys; while he was in plenty of shape for it, going up and down both flights of stairs repeatedly every day sounded tiring after a while. Opening the door let him into his simple two-bedroom apartment, the door shut and locked behind him as he tossed his jacket onto a hanger by the door and undid the buttons of his vest, letting it hang open a bit more comfortably.

Doing so revealed the musculature that most could assume was hidden beneath; strong pecs bulged out above a flat stomach that was ridged only by the scaled six-pack that sat beneath it, revealing just how much work he had put into his body. He was certainly proud of it, too; Dock had spent years building himself up, always dreaming of being bigger and bigger. Days spent flexing in front of the mirror had shown steady progress until recently, constantly renewing that drive to grow, and bringing him to his current state. But now he wanted more, and hopefully with the help of this book, he'd finally be able to obtain it!

Flopping down into a large, comfortable recliner, Dock let it lean back, sprawling out in a relaxing position. Reaching one hand over onto the table next to him, he fumbled around for a bit before finding a small, old-fashioned device that looked almost like a tape recorder. It was close in design at least, an old audiotape reel player that was meant to record music or voices to be played back. Though he didn't use it much for its recording, Dock had a large collection of reels that could be placed into it and set up to let him listen to music when relaxing. Grabbing a random one off of the shelf below, a small disc slightly smaller than a CD in length with the reel threaded around it, the crocodile carefully removed the previous reel after fully rewinding it, letting the tape wrap around its reel before taking it off of the machine. The new one was inserted, its tape fed into the slot, and brought back to the other side to be fastened to a second wheel; when played, it would simply wind the tape in the other direction, slowly wrapping it around the far reel and playing the tape as it went.

Once it was set, Dock flipped the switch to get it going, and grabbed the book he had just purchased to start reading. He had decided to read through it first, to get an idea of what he had to do to improve his bulking routines and really let it sink in before putting it to practice; no sense in starting without full understanding, lest he accidentally mess something up in the process! Once the music was playing in the background, a softer tune that threatened to put him to sleep if he wasn't so determined to peruse the text in his hands, the crocodile got himself comfortable once more and opened the book to its first pages.

The first chapter was the usual warnings and disclaimers that came with any sort of bodybuilding material; gains and growth varied by person, with biology varying between species and blah blah blah, moving on past that. Dock quickly flipped past the warnings and onto the first real chapter, which was more of a review on the different muscles and how they functioned. While much of it was information that looked like it belonged in a textbook, the crocodile let himself study the functions of various muscles, soaking in whatever information he could; perhaps these functions would be key to understand how the different exercises and routines later in the book worked, so it would be best not to skip anything.

An hour passed as Dock continued to flip through the pages, but unfortunately, the book got progressively more and more boring, the crocodile's eyes starting to droop closed somewhere between the use of proteins in the diet and the obvious benefits of remaining hydrated. For a moment, he was starting to think that he had just found some newbie's manual to weightlifting, and had wasted his money; surely a real bodybuilding text would have gotten into the meat of the matter by this point: how to get big. Yet the “Bulking Up” chapter was still a third of the book away, and it was getting harder to focus on extended reading. He could just skip ahead... but what if he missed important information along the way?

Sighing and shaking his head to try and wake up a bit, the crocodile turned the page yet again... and paused as the next page simply seemed to fall out of the book, floating down to rest on his chest. Great, and on top of everything else, he had gotten a defective book, one that was falling apart internally! This did come as a surprise, though; the cover was in moderately good condition, and there was no sign of deteriorating in previous pages. Perhaps it was just a loose page? Examining the book, though, Dock saw no sign that there was a missing page; even the numbers seemed to line up properly, and there was no sign of damage along the spine where a page might have fallen out.

Perhaps it was just a sheet of paper that had been left between the pages, he mused to himself as he set the book aside, grabbing the sheet of paper off of his chest. It wasn't actually a single page, he noticed on closer inspection, but three of them folded up. Unfolding them and opening them, Dock was surprised to find that it looked almost like pages taken out of a journal, the first two dated and with neat, small handwriting beneath them. The third was... well, it was certainly odd, some kind of occult-looking symbol drawn in the center of it, along with three or four lines of text along the top that looked like they were in some sort of gibberish language. Chuckling and setting that one aside, the crocodile just flipped through the two journal pages to see what they said.

What he found sounded like something out of a fiction book; the writer was talking about some sort of magical symbolism that inspired changes in the body, based on the actual layout of the body and its muscles. That must have been what had drawn them to this book, with its detailed studies on the various muscle groups. Yet as it went on, it seemed the writer was firm in his belief that he was slowly deciphering a symbol that, when invoked in the right state of mind, would actually trigger the body's various muscles and chemical layout to alter it more to one's desires. Basically, it was meant to work like a sort of self-hypnotism that triggered the “body's potential” or something along those lines; it was starting to sound more and more like gibberish even as Dock read, and the handwriting was even becoming more hasty and scribbled. He had to wonder if the guy was on to something, or was just losing his mind.

Still... Dock found himself curious. He doubted such occult things such as magical symbols and the like, but at the same time, after wasting so much time in the opening chapters in the book, this sounded like an amusing diversion to wake himself back up. The crocodile sat up and, setting the paper with the symbol on it on the table before him, flattened out to fully reveal it. It was a twisting thing, almost like an inward-coiling serpent, various markings laid across it. Though he didn't understand what it was supposed to represent, or how it was supposed to induce self-improvement, Dock just read the instructions that were on the second journal page, which were supposed to “activate” the self-improvement. All he had to do was find a relaxing, almost meditative state while staring at the symbol, and then speak the words at the top of the page. If done right, the stimuli from both audio and visual cues would activate the “spell,” as the writer called it.

“Pfft, magic. Yeah right.” Dock chuckled, yet he felt a sort of... twisty feeling in his stomach. Despite knowing this would all be nonsense, he was almost eager, and a little nervous. In some corner of his mind, he almost wondered what would happen if it worked. But nah, such a thing wasn't possible... right? Leaning forward, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, to ease the butterflies in his stomach. It took a few moments of concentration for him to fully relax, and though he wasn't sure if it was this “zen state” that the writings mentioned, it was enough for him to just be relaxed and calm, right? He hoped so, then chided himself for getting too into the idea of this nonsense. It wasn't real, he told himself, yet he did as the instructions said, staring into the symbol on the page and slowly intoning the words.

The sounds were weird, almost as twisty as the picture itself, the syllables seeming to somehow flow together despite feeling so unnatural on the tongue. By the time he reached the second page, Dock could see how the aural cues could almost be mesmerizing, the sound of sliding from one word to another almost relaxing, invigorating, and he found that as he reached the third line, he was almost eager to make it to the fourth and final one. And, as he spoke, the words twisting in his ears, the symbol on the page almost seemed to move as well, sliding around, eyes looking into his own. It was strange, impossible... yet Dock found himself unable to stop until he reached the last syllable. And then, at the end, he spoke almost reflexively, as if he was compelled to speak his desire to improve. “I want... I want to be bigger!”

It was only then that his head seemed to clear, and the crocodile put one hand to it, still feeling dizzy. What was that? That was certainly a lot more than he expected to happen from his little occult “game”! Yet even as his vision came back into focus and the spinning slowly stopped, Dock looked down at himself and saw that nothing seemed to be different. Whatever he had just done, some kind of hypnotism or whatever it was, it hadn't changed a thing. Well, what had he expected? Some mumbo-jumbo to turn him into the titanic bodybuilder of his dreams? Hah, fat chance of that happening; it was all nonsense, and for a moment, he had let himself believe it was something more.

Well that was enough of this for the day, he decided; Dock turned off the audiotape player, set the book next to it on the table, and stood up from his chair. Looking at the clock, he realized it was already early evening; where had the time gone? The crocodile shook his head; it didn't matter, he supposed. More importantly, it was time for his evening workout, a chance to burn off the day's calories and put some more work and sweat into building himself up. Stepping into his bedroom long enough to change into some loose shorts more suitable for working out than his jeans were, Dock made his way to his personal home gym situated in the next room over.

Though it wasn't quite as good as the professional gyms that had a much wider range of machines and weights that were much heavier than his current ones, Dock was still quite proud of his home gym system. Dumbbells were set in their racks along one wall, while a larger bar was set up by a bench nearby. A leg machine took up a third corner of the room, and there was a set of bars along the same wall that could be used for pullups. In the center was a simple treadmill for cardio work on those days where he wasn't feeling up to doing a full workout. Finally, on the last wall, the one that the door was set into, was a large full-length mirror for him to look at himself and admire the steady progress of his work.

Looking over the various weights lining the walls, Dock decided that it would be best to start by working on his arms. He stepped over to the small dumbbell rack, starting with something a little on the lighter side to get warmed up; lifting a twenty-five pound weight off of the shelf, the crocodile sat himself on the nearby bench that was normally used for bench presses, getting himself comfortable before bringing one arm up, then the other. The tightness was there, but minimal; he felt that his muscles were being worked, but without being strained. He'd switch arms every lift, letting the workout begin with a simple set of ten lifts with each arm. It didn't take long before the first set was done, leaving him breathing deeper, starting to get into the lifting routine.

Another set followed the first, and then a third; three repetitions were often Dock's style, and left his arms feeling nice and tight, the muscles flexed and warmed up for heavier lifts. Racking up the smaller weights, the crocodile moved up to the next set, the twenty-five pound weights. These were his average, and the ones most commonly used in extended workouts as opposed to short bursts. As expected, they'd be heavier than the last, putting more strain on his arm, shoulder, and chest than the lighter weights, but the extra weight was exactly what would allow him to progress towards his goal of bigger sizes.

Surprisingly, though, the weights felt no heavier than the previous set. Dock managed to complete three sets just as easily as before, surprised at how light the weights felt. He checked to be sure he hadn't grabbed the next weight down instead of the intended dumbbells, but no, these were the thirty-pound weights. Confused, the crocodile did one additional set, and just like before, they felt lighter. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, the weights in his hands felt even more so, like they were no burden on his arms. That was certainly odd; he maxed out at thirty-five pound weights for short single sets, and thirty for endurance sets, but these didn't feel like they'd work his muscles at all.

Out of curiosity, Dock grabbed the forty-pound weights, skipping over his maximum completely. Now these were starting to feel properly heavy; they weighed down his arms, tugging them down slightly, and made it harder to lift. Yet, intrigued by the ease at which he had lifted the thirty-pounders, the crocodile went for a full set of ten. The strain was much more noticeable for the first three or four lifts, slow pulls that brought the weight up to a curled position only after much difficulty. For a moment, Dock almost thought he'd be unable to complete the set, yet as he reached the fifth lift, the task seemed to get a little easier. This increased incrementally with each lift, until by the tenth lift, it felt like hardly any struggle to bring the weight up to the top position.

What was going on? This was certainly weird. Dock stood from the bench, wiping sweat from his face as he went over to the full-length mirror to examine himself, wondering if perhaps he had been doing better than he thought he had. What he saw surprised him; he was no small reptile before, yet as he looked at himself, it was like looking at a different person. A bigger person. Broad shoulders had become broader, while his already firm arms had swollen with new girth. Idly lifting one up at his side in a single bicep pose, Dock watched the muscles tighten, his bicep nearly as big as a small cantaloupe at a flex. This certainly wasn't his usual size; what was happening?

Yet it wasn't just his arms, he realized. His vest, which had fit loosely before, was noticeably tighter than before. His chest bulged out further than before, the material straining more around the swollen pecs, but it also felt tighter around his waist and middle. His shorts were faring a bit better as well, elastic in the waist and generally loose-fitting overall. Yet they were conforming to his waist a bit more than before, tight around slightly thicker hips and a firm, yet rounded bubble-butt that was modestly accentuated by the fabric. His thick tail swished about behind him, seeming unchanged, yet each lash of it was experimental, the thick mass of the appendage feeling lighter than normal. His legs were also thicker, like tree trunks fighting for space, requiring a slight widening of his posture, the legs of his shorts squeezing tightly around them and defining all of the muscles of his upper leg.

Dock realized that he was definitely bigger than before, turning sideways in the mirror and posing a few more times to admire how each muscle flexed and bulged with the slightest motion. Well, he did say he wanted to be bigger, but he hadn't expected his wish to come true so easily! While not quite up to bodybuilder sizes, the crocodile was certainly a size or three bigger than he had been only a little while back. At the gym, he'd certainly stand out as a hard-core weight lifter as opposed to just your everyday gym-goer, that was for sure!

Yet as he stared at himself, Dock found an urge rising in him, a desire for more. He was big, sure, but he wanted to be huge; it wasn't just a bodybuilder he wanted to match, but more. Bigger, stronger, more titanic than any other. He wanted to be absolutely massive, large enough that no one could compare to him. The thought seemed almost strange, subconscious, yet as it bubbled up in his mind, the crocodile realized that the desire for them grew, as if he had always wanted it. And maybe he had, somewhere in some small corner of his thoughts. And as he observed it, Dock agreed; he truly wanted this size, this massiveness. What he wouldn't give for it!

The room seemed to spin for a moment, and Dock's mind was drawn back to the memory of that snaking symbol he had been staring at only a short time prior. He could almost see it before him, as though it were twisting and curling about again, whispering the words that he had spoken back to him... and then all snapped back into place, the dizziness fading, and the crocodile shaking his head to clear out any lingering thoughts. What had he been doing, again? Oh right, admiring his new bulk in the mirror; Dock wasn't sure where it had come from, but he was still happy that he had managed to somehow put on so much size. It was almost like magic, but that was ridiculous; no such thing existed.

Well, there was one thing he could do; the crocodile smiled a toothy grin as he moved over to the bench with its weights set aside. Now that he was this much bigger, Dock wanted to know just how much he could bench press safely. His normal weights were around the one-eighty mark, so he decided to start there. Racking up the appropriate weights on each side of the bar, the crocodile lowered himself beneath the bar, wrapping his hands tightly around the bar, shifting his stance so that his arms were properly spaced, and then pulled it down off of the rack. Carefully he brought it down to his chest, the machine guiding it without actually supporting it to prevent it from falling on him if his grip slipped, took a breath, and then pushed it upwards.

As expected, the lift was much easier than before. Maybe almost too easy; Dock just grinned as he pressed it up, lifting the weight all the way above him before bringing it down, doing a surprisingly quick set of ten repetitions before racking it back up. Well, if it was going to be that easy... the crocodile's sharp-toothed smirk grew by the moment as he racked on an additional fifty pounds, twenty-five on each side, and repeated himself. Yet despite the increased weight, it didn't feel much more straining at all. That was certainly strange; such a difference should have definitely been weighing him down.

Curious, Dock added another fifty on; up to a full two hundred and eighty pounds including the bar, the weight should have been far more than he could dream to take off of the rack, let alone lift with any sort of relative ease. And at least, this time, it started to live up to his expectations. A mighty straining of his arms, his chest tensing and his shoulders tightening, was enough to get the bar to slowly rise, coming off of the rack. He eased it down, knowing that the machine would keep it from crushing down on him, before taking a breath and slowly starting to push it up. The first rep was an excruciatingly difficult one, his arms burning even as he reached the halfway point, but slowly and surely he managed to bring it up to the peak.

Panting, taking a moment to breathe even as sweat dripped down his face, the crocodile opened his eyes, having closed them as he put his all into bringing the bar up in the first place. His arms were trembling, holding up the weight, yet as his tired gaze took everything in, Dock realized that they weren't just trembling; they almost seemed to be pulsing. He watched almost absently as they continued to do so, taking on something of a throbbing appearance. Yet each “throb” had his arms looking a little bigger, a little bulkier. Dock was sure that it was just a trick of the eyes, yet even as he watched, it became easier to hold the bar up, less straining. Before long, it started to become almost boringly easy to do so, feeling as though it were half its weight and no big deal.

The ping of something small bouncing off of the bottom of his snout brought Dock back to reality, and he benched the bar again to sit up, trying to figure out was going on. As he did so, there was not just one, but three or four more pings, and he felt his vest get a lot looser. Looking down, the crocodile's jaw simply dropped; his vest, which had been fairly loose before, was now skin-tight. Half of the buttons had come off, two from the top, around his chest. Yet what surprised him even more was how much more difficult it was to look down past his chest; where he had already been fairly strong before, now his chest was built like a barrel, thick and firm, straining its way free of his vest's top.

But something was off, and it didn't take Dock long to realize it was he returned to the mirror, his jaw dropping once more. It wasn't just a few buttons that were gone; only one remained on his vest, right below the bottom curve of his massive pecs. The rest were all gone, and for a very obvious reason: where he had possessed a firm six-pack earlier in the day, there was now a very round, ball-like gut that was starting to push out from his middle. It was like looking at a powerlifter version of himself, with extra mass in the middle of his form... but this wasn't what he wanted at all! Turning sideways, the crocodile almost blushed seeing how far his gut protruded, a thick sphere that pressed out further than his pecs did. And as he did, taking a deeper breath than he had intended, the last button on his vest popped off, leaving the sides open, revealing his torso in all of its size.

It wasn't just his belly that was larger either, Dock realized; while his chest was certainly larger, and possessed that swollen shape that suggested it was muscle, there was a softening of the edges, a slight roundness from fat that had accumulated atop the muscle. What was going on? He didn't want to be fatter, he wanted to be more muscular! Bigger! Yet as he looked at himself, grabbing his belly with both paws and hefting it, the crocodile had to admit that he was certainly a lot bigger. He didn't have the look of a bodybuilder on stage anymore, yet at the same time, he found himself enjoying the fact that he was absolutely huge. He probably weighed nearly four hundred pounds right now, and while it wasn't all muscle, he was certainly larger.

The weight had been distributed all over the crocodile's body, too; looking at himself in the mirror and turning, Dock realized that he was a good deal heavier all over. His arms maintained their cut appearance with only a slight softening, but his legs, stretching out the legs of his shorts, were definitely showing a loss of definition from extra fat on them. His belly's forward bulge was partially matched by his swollen backside, the thick rump stretching and straining his shorts, his tail even thicker than before and dragging on the ground behind him. Fortunately he possessed plenty of muscle beneath the surface; his gut maintained a rounded, off-season shape despite its size, while his muscles still showed plenty when flexing. It was like finding a safe place between the two extremes of excessive muscle and fat, and surprisingly, it felt pretty decent.

And yet... it wasn't enough. He wanted even more. And once again, as that desire vocalized itself in his mind, the world seemed to twist and turn again. His head spinning, Dock leaned against a nearby wall, pressing his hand into it to support him. Once more he saw that symbol floating before his eyes, and the whispering in his ears was even louder. And this time, he thought he could almost make out what it was saying: “Bigger. Grow bigger. Larger. Heavier. Massive.” It was almost hypnotic in nature, dizzying and yet at the same time, enlightening. It was as though the words were keys to the locks on his body's potential, urging it to grow bigger and bigger.

Once more things evened out, and Dock felt the dizziness fading again. Looking up, he wondered why he was leaning so heavily on the wall; it had only been a momentary dizzy spell, like standing up too quickly. Shaking his head once more to clear it out, wondering if he was getting sick with all these small spots of dizziness, the crocodile took a moment to examine himself in the mirror. Concern had melted away, replaced with acceptance... but at the same time, also a small amount of shame. This was big? He could do so much more! He wanted to be absolutely massive, too big for doorways, a mountain of muscle and mass that would dwarf anyone who looked at him!

The crocodile cast his gaze across the room, and it settled on the squat rack, with a bar already set in place. Smirking, he loaded up literally every weight that he could fit on the ends of it without them sliding off, then ducked under the bar to place it across his shoulders. The bar didn't actually fit across his shoulders, the metal weights resting atop them, but Dock just grinned; it was almost intoxicating to feel too large for the bar. Hefting the weighted bar up, the crocodile stepped forward, feeling its weight bearing down on his back and shoulders. Yet, after his last surge of explosive growth, it hardly felt as heavy as it should; he strode forward almost casually, like he was carrying it across his shoulders for looks and not for a workout.

Dock couldn't resist giving his reflection another broad, toothy smile and flexing his chest, the swollen, exposed pectorals bouncing despite the extra fat rounding them out. It was exciting, knowing that he was so massive, so huge; for some reason, the extra weight didn't even bother him now. The thought had become firmly ingrained in his mind by now: bigger, larger, stronger, more massive. Size was the only thing that really mattered. And so, he had to get bigger. To get bigger, he had to work harder. With that in mind, he slowly placed his hands under the bar across his shoulders again and, after gripping onto it firmly, slowly lowered himself into the first squat of his set of ten.

Lowering himself down, Dock watched the muscles in his bulky thighs pulse and throb, flexing as they worked to keep up his massive form. And as he started to come back up, that flex never seemed to disappear, the legs looking more built than before. Another repetition showed the same, but as he examined his form, he'd realize that it was improving on his core as well; though his belly had grown broader, it still remained firm and strong, a proper muscle-gut that only added to the crocodile's massive size without taking away from his strength. His shoulders seemed a little broader, his back a little wider, and his chest a bit stronger with each repetition; each time he came back up, he was just a little larger than when he had gone down.

But then, around halfway through the second set, it started to become too easy. Dock felt absolutely no strain from the hundreds of pounds stacked across his shoulders, and as it became no burden at all, he realized that his gains were stopping. No longer pressuring his muscles to perform better, no longer pushing his body to become its absolute best, the slow growth seemed to have stopped. Frustrated, he racked the bar back up; it wouldn't hold any more weights on it, and as a result, he wouldn't be getting any more work out of it.

Of course, the progress he had made by this point was absolutely astonishing; looking at himself in the mirror, Dock didn't recognize the crocodile standing before him. He realized after a moment that he was a bit taller, probably his body's way of adjusting to the extra mass to prevent him from immobilizing himself with muscle; nearly seven feet tall now, the top of the mirror only reached his chin, giving him a slightly downwards angle to admire his muscled form. But it was a fine cutoff; the image started at the top of his chest, the thick pecs looking soft, yet full in size with the powerful muscles beneath, while his shoulders were like two cannonballs on either side. His arms maintained most of their bulky, cut look, and as he flexed this time, he doubted that any average person could wrap their arms all the way around his massive bicep.

The rest of his body was no less impressive; from his angle, Dock got a fine view of his massive muscle-gut now, the thick sphere standing out like some kind of beach ball beneath his strong chest, protruding half again just as easily, making him look even larger. That broad with led to wide sides, yet without the thick rolls of flab that would accompany a heavier fellow, and flowed down into broad hips that were stretching the limits of his shorts' ability to contain him. His broad rump had swollen noticeably, enough to make him blush slightly at how it tugged down the waistband of his shorts, while his tail was as thick as the average person's waist now, heavy with its size, yet thanks to the muscles he had built up, easy enough to move about still. His legs had also shown a good deal of growth, as well; though the fat that had developed along with his muscles had softened their tone, they did nothing to hide the strength that lay beneath, the muscles visible with each flex, valiantly keeping the crocodile's massive form upright as he stood there admiring himself.

Turning a few times, Dock went through another set of bodybuilding poses to admire the swell and curve of his massive form. First was a double-bicep, facing the mirror, causing his chest to swell and bulge as it flexed, the muscles clearly visible, while his arms throbbed with size, each of those biceps rivaling the mass of his thick chest. Then was a side-chest pose, the crocodile turning with some difficulty while trying to keep himself fully visible in the mirror. Leaning forward, he crossed one arm across the other, flexing his chest and admiring the view, even enjoying the sight of his thick, bulging gut tensing as well, showing off the strength hidden beneath. Finally he ended with a less official pose, hands on his hips as he puffed out his chest and belly, his thick tail swishing behind him as he stared at the reflection giving him quite the show back.

“Heh, wait 'til the boys at the gym see me now...” The crocodile grinned to himself. “Dunno how I'll explain turning into a titan in less than a day, but who cares? One flex of these guns—” He flexed in demonstration, the biceps bunching up again, “—and they'll forget what they were saying.” Chuckling to himself, Dock decided that he wanted to see just what they thought about nearly eight hundred pounds of gator squeezing his way into the gym. He headed for the doorway, whose top was now about level with his snout, and ducked down to squeeze his way out. His upper body got through with some difficulty, his shoulders brushing the frame, but about halfway through he found himself promptly caught, stuck in the doorway by his broad middle. “Of course, I'll have to explain the belly, too...”

Laughing once more, Dock reached an arm to either side of the doorway, gripping it in his hands and starting to shove outwards. His shoulders bunched up, his biceps bulged, and his chest flexed as he put pressure on either side of the frame. The wood let out a slow, long groan, but after a moment it started to warp and bend outwards, further and further, until... crack! A loud snap echoed through the room as the door frame simply broke under his powerful push, leaving Dock pressing most of his form through as the walls caved slightly, plaster raining down onto the floor and cracks running through the ceiling. Forced to duck with the moderately low ceilings, the crocodile looked up in embarrassment. “Whoops...”

Squeezing his way through the hallways and nearly getting stuck around a turn as he made his way back to the living room, Dock grabbed his phone off of the kitchen counter, realizing just how small it was in his large hand. Thankfully he still had his claws, and could, with some work, press the right keys on the touchpad; he had one more errand to do before he could make his way to the gym. Slowly the phone rang, and after a few moments, a female voice could be heard on the other end. “Hey, Mrs. Claude? Yeah, this is Dock, in 208? I need to make a maintenance call. There seems to be a bit of a structural issue with one of the ceilings in my apartment...”