Mr. Tucker Forrest had every reason to think that he was as powerful as his position. His company had remained small by ad industry standards, but by specializing in sports related accounts, and landing several of the largest, T. Forrest Inc. had become a significant player. His select staff were all sports devotees of one kind or another, and knew better than most just how to service their accounts. One area that Tucker had not yet locked up was sports nutrition and supplements, but he thought he was about to nail that one, too, with the help of one of his top account execs, Larry Littleman. Tucker had hired Larry based on the fact that he was a personal fitness trainer with serious qualifications in physical therapy, nutritional therapy and non-traditional supplements. Larry also had the outgoing personality and the looks to be successful as an AE.
Tucker had, in fact, secured Larry's services not only as an AE, but also as his own personal trainer. Tucker was strikingly handsome and well built and he had every intention of maximizing those attributes professionally. After several months, Tucker discovered that Larry was not just into maintaining a fit, toned, cut physique. Larry was really more into bodybuilding. Eventually he told Tucker he didn't care at all about competing as a professional bodybuilder, but he did have a personal goal of building himself up to where he could.
Tucker wasn't about to let himself be pushed in that direction, and he wasn't sure how that kind of body would be received on one of his AEs. When Tucker hired Larry, even before he saw him in workout clothes, he could tell he was built, but having a great looking staff of athletes was what he wanted. Larry was one of those guys who would drive women crazy. He had the face of a daytime soap opera star and a head of thick, dark blond hair to go with the face. Even in business clothes, he had the posture of a man proud of his body. His loose fitting slacks showed a great butt, and his dress shirts showed a pair of nicely developed pecs and arms that pretty much filled his sleeves.
When, in their talks about workout goals, Forrest realized that Larry was serious about building himself up to the proportions of a bodybuilder, he felt he needed to say something. He thought that Larry's credibility as an AE might be compromised if people thought he was becoming some kind of freak. But Larry said, very respectfully, that he felt that how he developed himself was his business, and that it shouldn't get in the way of his effectiveness. In fact, he told Tucker, he was working on landing an account that could become huge. Tucker was intrigued. Larry told him that some new bodybuilding supplement had been developed, and the inventors were looking for test subjects and an agency to represent their product. T. Forrest was a natural, and they had sought out Larry to get to Tucker.
or Larry told Tucker that they needed to complete just a couple more tests, and they'd be ready to go to market. He also told him that he, himself, was to be a test subject. Tucker immediately thought about having his own in-house testimonial, if this supplement worked. Larry told him he was scheduled to meet with them that night and would report back the next day. These guys were anxious to get moving and get rich. The next day Larry called in to say he couldn't come in that morning. He told Tucker that he'd taken their stuff the night before, and it did work. In fact it worked so fast and so well, he had to get some new clothes to wear.
He said that the prospective clients had asked to meet with him, Tucker, at lunch to discuss plans for a media launch of the product. Larry said he'd meet him there, and named one of the top restaurants in town. Larry thought about it all morning. Would he be able to see a difference on Larry? He knew, if it worked, the market for this kind of thing could be vast. When he walked into the restaurant, escorted to the table by the maitre d', his mouth dropped open. Facing him was Larry, flanked by two men he assumed to be the clients by their extraordinary physiques, obvious even in business suits. Larry was grinning with pride as he stood to greet Tucker, the source of his pride clearly manifested.
Tucker openly stared at Larry. So did almost everyone else in the restaurant. He was not wearing a jacket; just dress slacks, shirt and tie. He was huge. His arms more than filled the sleeves and strained the material of the extra large shirt. His back was so wide Tucker could see from the front how his lats flared thickly, pulling the fabric tight, causing it to cling to the huge pectoral muscles that sat broad and massive on his chest. Larry apologized for not wearing a jacket, saying that when he tried to get into his this morning, he couldn't get his arms into the sleeves.
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But, he said to Tucker, who cares when it's obvious that the product works. He acted overjoyed, showing Tucker how dramatically it had worked on him since about five thirty the night before, flexing one of his huge arms so that the shirt looked about to split open from the strain. And, he told his boss, it's still working. It takes twenty four hours to do its complete job. And it feels absolutely wonderful.
Tucker's emotions bounced around as he sat discussing ideas for a campaign, convinced by what he saw that the potential for the product was huge, but not convinced that a physique like Larry's, or even these clients', would go over with the average guy. In fact, he felt a little embarrassed by Larry's size and his uninhibited display.
Larry, meanwhile, maintained an infectious level of enthusiasm about the results he was experiencing and how he felt. He said he could almost feel his clothes getting tighter. As Tucker listened, he couldn't help but imagine what that must feel like, to have such massive muscles that they could be too big to be contained by a shirt, even an extra large tent of a shirt like Larry was wearing.
They all laughed about various scenarios of guys using the product and growing huge in different situations, like at the beach or during an airplane flight. Or sitting in a fancy restaurant at lunch. Imagine some guy in his business suit suddenly getting too big for his britches. Tucker laughed, but his imagination was working too effectively all of a sudden.
He could imagine how strange that would feel, the trousers becoming tight on the legs, tight in the crotch. Or the jacket sleeves feeling too tight when bending the arms to lift a bite of food or a glass. His imagination was producing such vivid pictures that he could actually feel what that would be like. He could imagine his reactions, a combination of panic and exhilaration. Suddenly the restaurant felt stuffy and hot. Just thinking about that made him feel jittery. His skin was itching.
Just a little, when he first noticed it, then growing stronger, like he had hives creeping up his arms and legs, then all over his groin, then spreading from his groin all up his stomach and chest. He couldn't let himself sit there and scratch or sweat in front of these new clients, and he felt embarrassed that his reaction to thinking about what this product could do was so strong. He excused himself and went to the bathroom. When Tucker got into the bathroom, the mirrors gave him evidence that those sensations of his clothes feeling tighter were not just his imagination. As soon as he was inside the door, he frantically scratched the raging itching of his chest and stomach, and he thought, strangely, that his pecs felt bigger to him. He looked at his reflection and saw that his jacket looked too small, too snug.
Maybe he just hadn't noticed this morning. After all, he had been building up with Larry's training routine. The itching was feeling out of control. He scratched all down his arms to the back of his hands. He looked at them in shock. The backs of his hands were covered with short, dark hair, hair that hadn't been there before. He unbuttoned his cuff, pushed up his sleeve, and saw the same kind of dark hair growing on his forearm. This couldn't really be happening! He quickly unbuttoned the front of his shirt. All that itching was being caused by dark hair sprouting thickly all over his chest and stomach.
He looked just like one of those hairy guys who shaves and lets it grow back It was short and lay flat on his skin, but already he could see the swirls and pattern it was making. It wasn't his imagination at all. And it wasn't his imagination that his clothes were getting tighter. His arm muscles were bigger, and so were his pecs. They must have slipped him some of their product. He pulled himself together, buttoned his shirt, which was now almost tight across his chest, and returned to the table. There, he asked them what was going on. Larry told him that they had all felt the best way for him to understand the product was to experience it himself. Tucker tried to hold back his panic.
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