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Mid-morning on a bright, sunlit day. But for one Zack McConach, the weather was not what his mind was on. For him, this would be a make-or-break day. Having worked away at this for over a year, slowly making his way up the ladder, completing and succeeding in challenge after challenge. Finally, the end was in sight. One more hurdle and it would be his. Completing the day's tasks would make the prize his. All he had to do was defeat his opponent.

Brutus 'Lacoste' DuSantiago.

They were the finalists for Vaalbara's Strongest Male. A contest of not only strength, but endurance as well. Over the course of the day, they would be challenged to a series of contests to prove their strength, and endurance.

For Zack, this day meant for than just the prize. It was his ticket to advancing from the National Series to the World Series. So long as he won, his entry was assured.

Right now, he was standing in front of a full view mirror, in his designated waiting room. Only one article of clothing decorated the entirety of his Herculean build. A simple pair of lycra shorts that came down to just above his knees. The same black as his fur, with the symbol of his primary sponsor, ÜberMass Incorporated on the right leg. One thing it couldn't, however, hide was the hefty bulge between his legs. Clearly stretched out, making the outline of his 'prized possessions' quite noticeable to a sharp enough eye.

The only other being within the room, an equally large black and grey scaled dragon, his only piece of clothing being a pair of crimson red Speedos, lacking in any other marking. However, unlike Zack, his wear wasn't quite large enough to hold in all of his goods, as his Speedo was pushed forwards slightly, allowing the slightest hint of his jet-black cock to be seen through the gap between them and his waist.

"So, Zack. Ready for your big moment?" He asked the wolf, approaching him.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Zack replied, a hint of nervousness in his voice, giving his muscles another flex in an attempt to steady his nerves.

"Don't worry about it!" Othello chuckled away. "If your last run was anything to go by. You only need to do half as well to take the win!" Referring to how Zack had utterly dominated the scene in his Semi-Final to storm through to the win. Giving Zack's shoulders a reassuring rub, he continued. "Besides, I checked your opponent's stats. He's well behind. This competition is all but won."

"I suppose so." Was all Zack could say in response, as he had to make his way to the performance stands if he were to be there in time. To face his opponent.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Outside, there lay the spectator stands. Where various audiences of many walks of life were gathered, essentially grouped into two camps. Waiting with baited breath for the arrival of the pair of finalists. In a different part of the stands, the VIP box, waited two particular individuals. One was Vincent Schmidt, a black and silver-grey Windragon, CEO of ÜberMass Incorporated, and Primary Sponsor of Zack McConach. The other was Terra Crescent, a turquoise-green and amber-yellow Gila Monster, who was his long-running girlfriend. At this moment, they were waiting for the competitors to arrive.

"Should be any minute now." Vincent commented, looking at his watch. "This should be fun."

"Which part? The competition or Zack winning?" Terra slyly queried in her familiar raspy tone.

"Both." Was the one-word reply. "And the odds are definitely in his favour." he continued, going over the stats sheet. The one which gave the measurements and achievements of the two contestants, clearing showing that Zack had the advantage.

Any further discussion would have to wait, however, as the announcer - a large, black horse of maybe 2 metres and average build - had made his way to the stand. Batting the microphone he held to check it was working properly, the audible thump over the speakers making it clear that it was in good working order, he then raised it to his mouth to speak.

"Welcome, everyone! And what a day this promises to be! For today, we begin the Finals of Vaalbara's Strongest Male!" He paused to allow the cheering from the crowd to rise and ebb. "And now! Let us welcome the finalists! First! Our returning Semi-Finalist, who has pushed himself to new heights to make it here today! Zack, McConach!" A strong cheer rose from a substantial portion of the crowd as Zack made his way to his designated spot, giving a solid wave to the crowd as he walked over. Now in his spot, the announcer spoke again.

"And now! In his debut appearance in the finals! Striking down opponent after opponent! Reaching the finals in only his first competitive run! Let us welcome! Brutus! DuSantiago!" The rest of the crowd made their support clear with raucous cheers as he stepped out and walked over.

"Hold on. Something isn't right here." Vincent spoke out, re-reading the info sheet he had. The crocodilian shouldn't have been this heavily built. Yeah. He was definitely bulkier than the info said he was. Even if he'd been working out a lot since the start of the competition, he couldn't have put that much extra muscle on. Looking at Brutus again, he noted that the legs were that thick, he was grinding the inner thighs together as he walked. And the arms were in a similar shape, while set on a massively swollen chest. Something was wrong here. Something was definitely, very wrong. But his worries would have to wait for now, as the competitions were about to start.

"Alright! The first challenge! The Bus Pull!" The announcer pointed to a pair of sizable articulated buses that were laying at the end of the track. "You will be strapped to them and pull them along the track! The winner will be the one who either crosses the finish line first! Or simply pulls it the farthest!" They made their way over to the buses, Zack with some slightly noticeable nervousness, Brutus full of confidence. Once over, the harnesses connected to their respective buses were strapped onto them, after which they walked forwards slightly, until the cables were taut, then they leaned forwards. Once in position, the announcer spoke again.

"Ready!?" Zack nodded. "Ready!?" Brutus nodded. "Three! Two! One!" A klaxon signalled the start of the first contest. They both began straining on their harnesses as the buses were painfully forced into slow-motion. Muscles being strained at the effort being demanded of them, as they slowly, painfully made progress. Ever so slowly, Zack crept into, and opened a lead. The exertion blatantly apparent on his face as the front of his bus passed Brutus by the halfway mark.

"Come on. Come on." Vincent chanted in a whisper as he witnessed his efforts in passing the three-quarter mark.

Finally. His right foot was on the finishing line, as he kept on heaving and straining to get all of the bus across the line with him. An act which required another half-minute, but one in which he succeeded. The klaxon blared to indicate that he had finished, and he promptly hit the ground, panting heavily as his abused body relished the opportunity for recovery. Less than a minute later, Brutus completed the challenge as well, but for some reason did not look as worn out. Something that Vincent and Terra noted with confusion, and worry.

"Something's definitely wrong here." Terra expressed her concern at the situation.

"I know." Vincent answered. "He should be a lot more burnt than that." Referring to Brutus, who was still standing tall. "Something has happened. That's for sure."

"But what?" Terra queried.

"Wish I knew." Was all he could say.

Once Zack and Brutus had been allowed a 10 minute breather, it was time for the next challenge. This time, there were 4 SUVs, two for each of them, on raised, sloping platforms, with large, chained handles fitted to their towbars. They took their respective places once again and waited. The announcer spoke up.

"Now the rules for the Hercules Hold one are very simple! You hold onto them for as long as you are able to, and the winner is the one who holds it the longest! Ready!?" Zack nodded. "Ready!?" Brutus nodded. A pair of assistants took the handles and handed them to Zack and Brutus, who were facing each other. Their arms needing to be outstretched to hold them, even before the cars were released. "Three! Two! One!" The klaxon blared again, after which the cars were released and allowed to roll, had it not been for Zack and Brutus who were all that halted their motions.

The seconds dragged away, both of them with visibly strained muscles as they held onto the heavy masses, refusing to yield to the other. All in attendance watched with baited breath, eyes glued to the competitors as they maintained vice-grips on the handles. A minute passed. A shudder passed through Zack as the stress began to take its toll. Brutus held his with a stoic face.

"I don't like the way this is going." Vincent commented as Zack's composure began to slip under the strain. "He shouldn't be falling behind at all, let alone by so much." He continued as he looked at Brutus, who still held his weights with apparent ease.

"Foul play?" Terra asked, nervously, in a whisper.

"Perhaps. Gotta find out somehow." His reply to the question.

The two-minute mark came and went, and Zack was struggling. The strain of holding his position with the two cars pulling him in opposing directions becoming more than he could take. Brutus still held his composure, though he moved a little. Small beads of sweat trickling down their faces.

Finally, it was too much for Zack to continue. His breathing now off rhythm. The cars resumed their roll of the platforms as he collapsed onto the ground, struggling for breath. Brutus held his for six more seconds before releasing them, rubbing and flexing his arms to work of the stiffness in them. Clear concern for Zack coming from not only Vincent and Terra, but a good chunk of the audience as well.

"He's losing it." Terra stated, the worry clear in her voice.

"I know. This should not be happening." Vincent replied, before an idea hit him. "Hold on. I wanna check something out."

"What's that?" She queried.

"Best not to talk about it." Was all he said as he made his way out of the VIP stands, using a need of the males room as his reason to the guards posted there. And while he was gone from the VIP stands, the next challenge was about to begin.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Carefully exiting the VIP stands, Vincent made his way to the contestant restrooms, making certain that he would be unseen, he wasn't, after all, really supposed to be here. However, given Zack's deteriorating performance, he really didn't see much choice if he wanted to be of help. That is why, with a little skill, he managed to slip his way into the restroom of Brutus DuSantiago.

Initially, it didn't look like much of out of place, just the usual items that you would expect to find in such a place. Mirror, bench, open bag. Nothing that looked out of place at first glance. Though Vincent knew better, whatever Brutus was using to 'tilt' the odds into his own favour, would be here somewhere.

A cursory browse of the small wardrobe held no secrets, a little frustrated, he search the drawers, which, too, were clean. This left the travel-bag as the final candidate. Taking care as so not to disturb anything too much, he used his hands to feel his way around the small bag and its contents. It took a moment, but he soon came across what he was looking for. Pulling a small bottle, have filled with pills out, he read the label: ÜberMass Inc. Muscle-Gro.

'So that was your little secret.' Vincent thought to himself. 'Using MY products to cheat your way to the win. Not likely.'

His first move was to carefully peel of the label of the small bottle, before pulling out another, unmarked one of his own which contained a placebo, Vince then reset the label onto the new bottle, which he had emptied to the correct level, before it was time to leave. Setting everything back to where it was as best he could, he slipped out of the restroom and into Zack's room.

This time, finding what he was looking for was a considerably simpler task, a small, already opened bottle of juice, to which he already knew what to do with. This time, he produced a small vial of one of his other products, and having opened the bottle, allowed a few, small drops to enter before putting the cap back on, and giving it a good shake to mix it in properly. Now though, he had to leave and return to the VIP stands before his absence became lengthy, and noticeable. Taking a moment to make sure there were no others nearby, he quickly slipped out of the restroom and began the short, but risky trek back to the stands. One he just about managed as he resumed his place in the stands without too much unaired questions - albeit too late to see that Zack had lost the last event as they returned to their respective restrooms for the 15 minute break.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Back in the restroom, an exhausted Zack slid into the room and near-enough collapsed onto the bench, where he was greeted by a concerned Othello, who had followed him inside.

"Wha...wha...what, the Hell's, goin' on?" Zack whispered, slowly, between gasps of rich, nourishing air.

"I, really don't know." Was all Othello could say as he massaged Zack's used and abused muscles. "There's just simply no way that that should be happening at all."

"So what happens? How am I supposed to win now?" Zack dejectedly queried, head down a bit in self-pity.

"Well you don't give up, that's for starters!" Othello's tone becoming a lot sterner. "You quit, and you lose. That is fact." The massaging of Zack resumed following that brief pause. "And besides, if he's going all out like that, then he's gotta be wearing down by now. I did see that much from him"

"Okay." Zack sighed. "But I gotta get a good drink, I'm parched."

"One moment." Othello headed picked up the half-full bottle before tossing it over to Zack, after which he searched his own bag for another one if needed. Zack immediately open the bottle he had and drained it of its remaining contents.

"Could use the other one now." Was all he said as he was handed the other one, who liquid was down his throat within seconds. Had Zack's eyes been open, he would have noticed a slight smirk from Othello's mouth which he was trying to hide. "That's the stuff." Zack sighed, feeling better now that he had had his long-needed drink. "Just another few minutes now." Noting that time was ticking away. He began stretching out the muscles in his legs, working out the slight stiffness that had built up in them. A task that Othello aided him with for the few precious minutes that they had left.

"Time to go." Othello began as the respite time was nearly gone. "Just hang in there and give it your all."

"Okay, time to get this done." Zack responded as he made for the door, giving himself one final flex when he got there, and a squat to prepare his muscles for the tasks at hand. Though he did wonder briefly, if his shorts felt tighter than before. He dismissed it as being a result of his recent exertions before exiting his restroom to return to the performance arena.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Back in the VIP Stands, Vincent waited with Terra, as the competition neared the start of its end phase.

"So can Zack do it?" Terra asked.

"As long as he can win the next two rounds, he's through." Vincent replied.

"I know, but after what happened..." She began, not really being able to finish.

"He hasn't lost yet. And he won't. I know."

"If you say so." She turned back to watch as Zack and Brutus had returned to the field, ready to continue.

"Alright everyone!" The announcer spoke up through the microphone. "Our next challenge is!" He paused a moment for effect. "The Farmers' Walk! One Hundred and Fifty Kilograms a hand! Fifty Metres! Fastest time wins!"

Zack and Brutus made their way over to the track where the heavy weights were laying in wait for them. Zack still appeared a little pensive as he walked over. Brutus, however, strolled over with the confident air of one who already believed that they had won. Now by the start line, they bent down to grab their respective weights, braced themselves and hoisted themselves back to the standing position. At the starting line, they waited as the announcer prepared to speak up.

"Three! Two! One!" The familiar klaxon blared throughout the stands signalling the start of the timer. At the same time, Zack and Brutus began their loaded-down walk along the track, Zack being a half-step behind.

Brutus maintained his lead for the first twenty or so metres, a slight grin on his face in spite of the visible strain on his frame owing to the immense weight that he was required to carry. Then came something he didn't see coming.

Insofar as the audience was aware, Zack had secured his second wind, though still struggling somewhat, he began to pick up his pace. Slowly, painfully, he began to close the gap between himself and his opponent. With each step, he came closer to the lead, with each step, he came closer to the end. With just five metres to go, he inched his way into the lead. A final spurt of power pushing him past the line, with which he levelled the score.

Rapturous cheers rose from the audience that supported Zack, sending a heavy wave of noise and emotion over the arena, knowing that with this, he was back in the running. Cheers matched only by the groans of disappointment from the others at having victory taken from them. For the time being was the hope they retained.

Zack, at this moment, had taken the time to stretch out his poor, abused muscles, working out the pain that had built up in them. Especially in the groin regions, which, for some reason, were especially sore, like his shorts were digging into them.

In any case, there was little time to ponder about the issue, as they had been summoned to the final challenge. Strolling over, he reached the stage, where a series of long, hinged poles awaited them.

"With the score even! We now come to our final event! The Fingal Fingers!" The announcer declared, referring to the poles lay in wait. Ten in total, each numbered in pairs. "Once we begin, these two mighty competitors must lift, then flip their allotted five poles in order! The first to finish! Or whoever flips the most will win! Now! To your starting points!" He called to Zack and Brutus, who, upon hearing the instruction, set to their first poles, each marked with the number 'One'.

Zack was ready to go now, but the tightness began to feel worse. However, with no time - or privacy - to sort it out, he would simply have to grit his teeth and bear it until he could get back to the locker rooms again. Squatting down, he placed his hands on the pole, ready to begin. A quick glance told him Brutus was ready too. Another quick glance saw a thumbs-up from Othello, which really pepped him up for this final event. He turned his attention over to the announcer who was ready to speak again.

"Three! Two! One!" The klaxon blared for the final time, marking the beginning of the final challenge.

Hoisting the pole up, Zack positioned himself ready to lift it, setting both hands in place, he pushed both the pole, and himself to the standing position, realising that it felt easier than he though it would. 'Perhaps being the first, it would be the lightest.' He thought to himself. In any case, he marched himself forwards, the pole rising higher with each step, until it towered vertical. One final push saw the Force of Gravity take over for its descent back to the ground. Following the inevitable, and satisfying thud when it struck, then rested in place, Zack strolled over to the next one, obviously numbered two, and squatted down to repeat the lift. 'Huh. Shorts feel slacker.' Was his dismissed thought as he readied himself.

He wasn't far off though. What had actually happened, was that during the last squat, his shorts had split open slightly, and this second squat had opened the tear that had formed by the tail-hole further, taking it to the base of his shorts. Visible only to a very sharp eye, and even then, only at close range. Pushing hard, he raised the second, notably heavier pole up, and repeated his actions here as he did with the first one.

Once he reached the third pole, he allowed himself a quick flex as the thud of a pole hitting the ground was heard, belonging to an increasingly frustrated Brutus. When he squatted down, however. The tear along his shorts opened still further, splitting down the inner seams of the legs, the muscles bulging out. The tensing he made prior to heaving the heavier pole up, took them past their limits and the leg seams failed, the material flopping loose. This time, he was able to hoist the pole with greater ease than with the previous pair and managed to flip it over in record time.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Not something that went unnoticed to the audience, the judges, Brutus, and a certain someone in the VIP stands.

"Vince? You didn't do anything to him? Did you?" Terra whispered accusingly to him.

"No. Nothing like this." Replied a visibly concerned Vincent. 'This should not be happening at all. What the hell happened?'

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

This was a train of thought shared by Othello. 'What I gave him shouldn't be doing this at all. What's going on?' He asked himself as he looked on with no small measure of concern, and fear.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Zack, on the other hand, was paying no attention to his expanding bulk, having already approached the fourth pole. This time, when he squatted down, his swelling waist tore his already ruined shorts completely free of himself, it falling to the ground as his body rose to flip this pole. What everyone could se now was, that his pole Zack was lifting wasn't the only 'pole' being raised. With each step taken, his already heavy cock was expanding, stiffening, rising for all to see.

An act that brought about gasps of shock, horror, and a lot of camera flashes from the more approving members of the audience.

All of which was being ignored by an ecstatic Zack, who now bent down and tossed the fifth and final pole with just the one right hand. Which didn't come as too big a surprise given that he was now fully one third the height of said pole. Thrusting his thickened, swollen right arm into the air, Zack gave a loud, deep, booming cry of victory, his full, throbbing cock bobbing around with him, as he whooped and yelled. A cry of victory that came to an abrupt halt when Othello reached him, Othello only coming to the bottom of his Pecs now. Only now, did Zack take a good look and realise just what had happened to himself. Huge, buff, and in the buff.

"Wha...WHAT THE!?!" He cried out in shock, staring over his still increasing mass.

"Good question!" Othello replied to him. "This wasn't meant to happen!"

"WASN'T MEANT TO....DID YOU DO THIS!?"

"Not this!" Othello hurriedly countered. "Someone else must be behind this!"

This would have continued between the two of them had it not been for the arrival of two other individuals. Vincent Schmidt and Terra Crescent. Vincent went straight to Othello and asked him.

"What, if anything, did you give him? And I need an honest answer." While staring straight at him.

Rather sheepishly, he pulled out a small vial. "This." At which, the answer clicked in Vince's mind. Pulling out the small bottle in his own pocket, he looked at it before speaking.

"So that's what happened. They're not supposed to be mixed. Results can be....well, you can see for yourself." Looking at Zack who had stopped growing taller, at double Othello's height, but vastly thicker muscles packed onto his build,. Zack himself, beginning to enjoy it now. As were more of the audience who were taking pictures of the scene left, right, and centre. Zack, all the while, posing and flexing for his viewers.

"You do know right? That because of this, Zack will be disqualified." Othello stated, somewhat glumly. "Meaning Brutus just took the win by default."

"Oh I wouldn't worry too much about that." Vincent smirked at him. "Seeing as I swiped this batch from Brutus himself. In short. He's already out for intentionally cheating. Zack on the other hand, didn't know. So they should give him another chance."

They looked at each other. Then to Zack. Then to Terra. Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, broke out into laughter. Having to hold onto one another for support - well, propping up on Zack to be precise. The whole absurdity of what had happened, finally sinking in. Not that Zack was complaining about his situation, by the way. As far as he was concerned. It had been worth it.