Like most other days, Tuesday morning found Bryce at the gym a few blocks from his apartment. The chestnut-coated stallion was one of the regulars there and had the muscles to prove it. He stood in front of the long bank of full-length mirrors near the free weights rack, staring at his technique (but mostly himself) as he finished a set of bicep curls. Mopping the sweat from his brow, he set down the dumbbell and wandered over to the bench where he'd set his water bottle. Tipping it to his lips, he grunted in frustration as he found it more or less empty. He crossed over to the drinking fountain, refilling the bottle and guzzling the cool water greedily.
The stallion looked around the largely deserted space, running his fingers through his jet black mane. Suddenly, something didn't feel quite right. His stomach felt a bit queasy and his legs shaky. Bryce grunted as his head bumped into something. He glanced up, only to bash his muzzle into the ceiling. Confused, he looked down to see his water bottle, now clutched like a travel-sized shampoo bottle in his hand.
"The hell...?" he muttered to himself. Was he... growing?
The few other gymgoers in the area took notice as the enlarging stallion was forced to his knees by the growth spurt. A cat on the treadmills pulled out her earbuds, making a dash for the door as Bryce rocked forward onto hands and knees, expanding palms pressing against the floor. Within moments, the stallion filled the area, forcing aside weights and other exercise equipment. It soon became apparent: there was nowhere to go but out.
A clamor arose in the streets as a colossal stallion dressed in a white wife beater and black spandex shorts burst onto the scene, standing up clear through the roof of the gym. He stood as tall as the fifteen-story bank building next to the gym, looking around in bewilderment and confusion.
"Holy shit," Bryce muttered to himself, brows high in shock.
The towering stallion, mind still a little muddled, decided to...
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