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  1. 34 points
    Reposted and reworked from a previous post ------------ Jason Becomes a Man - Chapter 1 At 18 years old, Jason figured he should know by now where his life was headed. But there he stood, looking back at his reflection in his bedroom’s full-length mirror. Sure, this was the face he saw when he shaved every morning, but somehow he felt he didn’t recognize the person staring back at him. Long, somewhat clumsy, thick hair spread about his bare, gangly frame. It had been a long time since he had taken a good look at himself. “I guess it could be worse,” he thought. Finals were a few months away, and he had already committed to school for the fall, but something felt… empty… directionless… Jason was aware he was somewhat of an “early bloomer.” His voice dropped low and early, and by the end of his first year in middle school he was already well used to be addressed as “sir” when marketers called on the telephone. He knew his deep, booming baritone voice stood out, so he limited talking when possible to avoid drawing too much attention. By freshman year of high school, he hit a growth spurt that shot him up to a lankly 6’3’’. By senior year and his 18th birthday, he could already grow a full beard, and while his friends were comparing their single, newly sprouted chest hairs, Jason’s chest was practically fully covered with a brown, curly forest. As Jason looked himself up and down, he felt a little odd, like the pieces didn’t add up. His face looked thin and young, but he was hairier than his dad and most of his friends. He didn’t even fit in the mirror, and had to contort his long neck to see all of himself at once. Jason was conscious of the looks he got from his peers. Although he wasn’t ashamed of his body, he could hear his friends whispering about him after gym class, and whether or not they were looking at him with jealously, Jason knew they were focused on him. “Maybe that’s what it is.” Jason thought as he looked up and down at his long, limber frame. He knew he had matured faster than his friends. That must be why he felt vaguely uneasy and unsure. Maybe they were making fun of him behind his back. Maybe his mind hadn’t grown into the changes yet. Even though it made him stick out among his peers, Jason’s lankiness and impressive height did have a distinct advantage; he excelled on his high school basketball team, and it had earned him a scholarship to an amazing school, much to the delight of his parents. Jason’s parents were much older than his friends’ parents, and had waited until they were well-established college professors in their mid-forties before having a child of their own. Like many of their generation, they emphasized the importance of building a career and becoming well adjusted-adults before having a family, and had pushed Jason toward the long academic path they had followed; Bachelor’s degree, then a Masters, then PhDs, etc. But Jason was having second thoughts. He had worked hard, but was it what he really wanted? He had already developed a fairly successful gardening business over the last year, trimming the yards of houses around town. He found that his large frame, although still fairly lanky, was well suited to the physical work, and he was already making a decent wage with his own business when most of his friends were making pennies at their minimum-wage summer jobs. It didn’t go unnoticed by his friends that girls loved to talk to him and be around him. One time, after talking with his friend Erika in the school hallway Jason overheard Allan, one of his basketball teammates, whisper to another friend, “that guys fucks.” But the truth was, although he had had a passing interest in girls, the pressure Jason was under from his parents drove him toward other pursuits. True, he had been on a few dates, two with Erika, but nothing progressed further than a kiss under a porch-light at the end of the night. *** There was one thing that had recently given Jason clarity and focus as the stress and confusion piled up around him- the gym. Jason’s basketball coach had him on a regular workout regimen to prepare him for college in the fall, and Jason found the physical activity cleansing. With a weight in his hand or a squat bar on his long shoulders, he focused in and tuned out. The blood pumped to his muscles, and his brain connected with something deeper inside himself. It was a time to see himself, to be alone and not think. As finals and graduation came and went, Jason dove deeper into his workouts on his own. His friends had all left for the summer for their last vacation before college, but Jason stayed behind. Summer was spent lifting and mowing lawns. It wasn’t long until he started noticing significant changes. The more he worked out, the hungrier he was, and while he always had a high amount of testosterone in his system, it seemed that the testosterone surged over the course of the summer. Powered by the flood of masculine hormones and his new-found voracious appetite, he packed on a solid 15 pounds of muscle by September, and his large, lanky frame began to fill out. His bony shoulders became broader with the added size, and his long, lanky arms swelled with healthy meat. He wasn’t big by bodybuilder standards, but he felt heftier, more substantial, like he took up more space in the world. Even more noticeable to Jason than his added muscle was the change to his demeanor. As he could feel the testosterone coursing through his veins, his vagueness and uncertainty had melted away to a masculine confidence. He felt in control. His hard work had brought results, and he finally started to feel like he had taken charge of life. The reactions of his friends upon returning home for the fall didn’t hurt, either. “Dude, what happened to my gangly friend,” remarked Jason’s basketball buddy Steven when they bumped into each other at the mall. “You’re looking bigger, bro, you’ve been working out?” Jason smiled a humble and yet slightly cocky smile. “Naw man, just trying to catch up to you guys.” The compliments trickled in from all of his friends. It was exciting, and it drove him to work even harder. Life was going well. Work was going well. Why mess with a good thing? Much to the chagrin of his parents, Jason decided to defer college for a year and focus on the gym and his burgeoning gardening business. *** Fall turned to winter, winter turned to spring, and spring gave way to the sweltering heat of summer once more. Now 19 and in the full throes of a testosterone flood, Jason had grown to a solid 225 lbs, filling out his broad 6”3’ frame. His lats widened, his back was broader, and his legs swelled with every squat. He had outgrown his high school gym clothes, and had to buy a new wardrobe large enough to allow for his quickly growing size. The basketball shorts that used to hang loose around his long legs now clung tight around his large quads. He had never thought he would be the dude in a stringer at the gym, but there he was. And it felt natural. One morning, after a particularly thorough workout, Jason tossed off his clothes in his room and caught sight of himself in his bedroom mirror. “Wow,” he thought aloud in his booming baritone, “Puberty really is a bitch, huh?” He thought that his jaw was noticeably squarer, and although he shaved every morning, he had a noticeable, thick brown stubble by 2:00pm. His broad pecs were coated with curly, brown hair that was slightly matted down with sweat from the gym, and it trailed down his tight abs and down to a thick bush of pubes. This looked right. It felt right. And was it his imagination, or had his balls dropped lower and slightly swelled in size? Jason flexed his thick biceps in the mirror, and moved the peaks back and forth. “Huh, cool,” he mused, his semi-erect dick swinging in the open air. The flowing hormones raised his confidence and he swaggered to the other side of the room and posed again. He squeezed his pecs in the light of his room, and even under his fairly thick chest hair he could see the striations ripple like tiny waves. “Shit.” He grunted. “I look like a fucking man.” His cock stood fully erect as he looked at himself in the mirror. A healthy 8.5 inches, and swelling with his newfound manliness. Jason wrapped his hand around it, almost habitually preparing to jerk off before bed as was his normal routine. But this time he looked down at his thick, stiff cock and a different desire emerged, a hot, impulsive feeling he had never acknowledged before. It was almost like a dormant instinct had risen within him. Jason, who had previously only had a passing interest in the opposite sex, felt an incredible urge to plunge his cock deep into a woman. He felt his thick member pulse. For the first time, he felt his deep, animal purpose as a man; to pleasure a woman and deliver his seed. Jason let go of his stiff rod and admired his masculine frame in the reflection. There would be no jacking off tonight. He smiled a crooked, cocky smile as he flexed both meaty biceps again. He was a man, and men fuck. *** The summer sun beat down hot, and Jason grunted as he re-positioned his lawnmower and pushed it across the Johnson’s lawn. Free from school or strict employment, Jason had let his hair grow out over the past year, and his golden brown hair draped over the back of his neck as he pushed his equipment around the yard. He had let his beard grow out too, although despite its length and thickness it was groomed in a neat, square shape that complimented his masculine jaw. With his height and large, hirsute frame, Jason was often mistaken for a man closer to 30 than 20. He noticed that grown men, even those twice his age, treated him different than they had even a year prior. They deferred to him naturally and treated him with automatic respect. Even the more experienced men at the gym started striking up conversations with him in an almost admiring way. It felt good to be held in such high regard, but as he pushed his lawnmower, his mind wandered. Was it weird that he had become so consumed with sex recently? He knew it was normal for guys his age to be horny all the time, but did they feel the same way he did? With his manly frame and manly swagger came an insatiable manly desire to cum inside a woman and fill her with his semen. Did he want kids? He was only 19, and that would be crazy. It would ruin his life, his parents said. Still, no one else he knew his age looked like he did. “Maybe some people become men before others,” he thought. But at 19 and a virgin who had never acted on his urges, he felt empty and unfulfilled in a way he couldn’t quite put into words. Sure, the admiration and respect he was getting lately was great, but underneath he felt unfinished. He looked like the red-blooded, all-American male, but he didn’t feel like a full man. Not yet. Jason had also noticed that Mrs. Johnson was watching him push his lawnmower shirtless in the heat, and could feel her eyes drink in every rippling crevice of his hulking, shirtless torso. He saw her shift when his bulging arms swung around his machinery, and he caught her staring at his broad, masculine shoulders as he unwound the hose on the side of the house. Jason waved. Mrs. Johnson waved back. “Great,” he thought, flipping his hair out of his face. “Another mom who wants the D.” Truth be told, Jason was getting attention from women (and some men) so often that he usually didn’t think twice about it. Girls his age called him a “daddy,” which made him slightly uncomfortable at first, but he grew into enjoying the compliment. Although he found himself horny most of the time, Jason funneled his frustration into the gym and his work. Business was booming. Mrs. Johnson wasn’t the only cougar in town with a lawn that needed mowing. But Jason had no real interest in the moms that hired him to trim their hedges. As his parents had drilled their sense of planning and responsibility into his head, Jason had purchased a few condoms to carry in his wallet for when the moment was right. He wasn’t dating anybody, but with his new primal, masculine urge consuming his mind most days, he knew that it was better to be safe than sorry. *** Jason parked his truck in the driveway. His parents were out of town for the weekend, so there was plenty of room. Just as he was turning his keys in the door, he heard a voice behind him. “Jason?” Jason turned around to see his friend Erika out walking her dog. “Erika! Hi!” “Oh my god, is that you? I mean, I know I’ve been away at school for a year but… wow, you got huge!” Jason blushed a bit at the compliment. “Thanks, so did- I mean- you look great, too!” Jason tried to act cool, but his hormones were putting him into stammering overdrive. Did Erika look like this the last time he saw her? He didn’t remember her hourglass figure, her full breasts, or her wide, perfect hips. Erika laughed. “Thanks.” She walked closer to the large, muscular man she hardly recognized as the boy she briefly dated a few short years ago. “You have a beard now!” “Yeah,” Jason replied, “it grows so fast it’s easier to just let it go.” He couldn’t help run his eyes up and down her perfect curvy torso. So feminine. The animalistic feeling in him rose. His face grew hot, and he slouched a bit to hid his growing erection. He plunged his hands into his pockets and his large triceps tensed in a horseshoe shape. Erika laughed again, “Geez, you’re unreal, dude. Those things are massive.” Jason saw Erika’s eyes drinking in his arms, and he stood up straight with pride, crossing his thick pythons across his chest, a tuft of thick, brown hair peeking out of the top of his white tee. Erika was truly awed by his masculinity, he couldn’t tell how he knew, but it was as if a new sense had opened up to him. Smelling the pheromones. He wasn’t hiding his growing erection anymore. “Nah, they’re not much really,” he said as he pretended to scratch an itch on the back of his neck, flexing his powerful bicep and stretching the limits of his sleeve. Erika leaned in, almost mesmerized, as her dog yanked at his leash to continue his walk. “Listen, Erika,” Jason said in his deep, resonant voice. “You want to get some yogurt or something tonight?” “Sure,” she muttered. Now Erika was the one stammering. “Meet me at eight?” *** Sometime after 10:00pm, Jason opened the door to his house and turned on the lights. Erika followed him in. “Thank you so much, I just need a glass of water,” she said, as Jason headed to the kitchen. “I don’t want to wake up your parents.” “They’re not home,” Jason yelled back, “are you sure you don’t want to come sit in the living room?” “Okay, just for a second,” Erika said as she put down her things. Erika sat on the couch, and Jason gave her the glass of water. He took off his jacket, once again revealing his muscled arms in his tight white tee. Erika saw the way it hugged his perfect V-shaped torso, and she sipped her water. Jason was quiet. “Jason?” “Yes?” “I need to be honest with you. I knew your parents weren’t home.” “Really?” Erika’s face was getting flushed, and she set down her glass. “I don’t know what it is,” she said, “Ever since I saw you I’ve just been… I don’t know… this is a new feeling for me. I saw your body, and that beard… …this is like…” She looked up at Jason and took a deep breath. “I’ve dated a few boys, but… you’re a god damn man.” Jason’s primal instincts were running wild. He felt his jeans grow tight around his growing dick, and he moved toward Erika nervously. This large, hulking man was nervous. He kissed her passionately. He had kissed her before, but this time was different. This time he instinctively knew the kiss was a means to an end. “Mmm Jason,” Erika sighed, “I’ve never- uh… I mean with those boyfriends, I never actually…” her eyes drifted to the bulge in his pants. The thought of Erika’s virgin pussy was driving Jason to the brink. “Jason-“ And before she could say anything more, Jason scooped her in his thick arms and carried her up the stairs, and laid her on his parents’ king size bed. Erika removed her clothes, and laid on her back in only her panties. Jason saw her full breasts spill down either side of her torso, and his mind raced. He peeled his tight white tee off of his rippling torso. Erika gasped. “Shit, you’re so hairy. Come here.” Jason threw his jeans aside, and flopped on the bed next to Erika. Erika ran her hands across his rock hard pecs, and trailed her fingers through his thick chest hair. “Too hairy?” “No! Dad hairy.” She looked deep into his eyes. “You can call me daddy if you want,” Jason rumbled, “I’ve gotten used to it.” Erika shivered as Jason ran his tongue down her neck and around her pert nipples. Even though he had never been with a woman before, Jason acted almost automatically, his hands moving before his brain knew what was happening. With a strong, nervous hand, he stripped away Erika’s underwear. Jason had seen pictures of the female anatomy in textbooks before, but as Erika spread her legs wide open in front of his face, there it was, infinitely more beautiful than he expected. In a book it seemed so mechanical, but here was Erika’s pussy, pink and inviting, throbbing in anticipation of his touch. This was for him. He was meant to enter her and take his pleasure. He traced the labia lightly with his fingers, and Erika shuddered. She was giving herself over to him completely, and this was now his territory to conquest. He spread her vagina gently apart with his fingers and licked her soft pinkness with his tongue. She tasted sweet, and the musky scent of her shut his rational mind off almost completely. “Oh, oh god,” Erika moaned. “Your beard, your fucking beard!” Jason’s thick beard tickled Erika as he licked her pussy. As her juices spilled onto his facial hair, the thought of being inside her swelled his dick to its full thick, 8.5 inches. The smell of her in his beard pushed his lust further. “Let me see it, I want to see it,” Erika begged. Jason removed his briefs, and his cock stood to full attention. “Oh my god, I need it, I need it inside of me,” Erika moaned. There they were, both completely naked. Jason, young and inexperienced but in every way a full virile man, and the woman laying legs wide open, ready to accept his manhood. Jason's girthy member had never felt stiffer, and it trembled, eager to feel the inside of a woman for the first time. Jason caught a glimpse of the scene in the bedroom mirror. “Shit,” he said out loud in his booming voice. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard.” Erika moaned and writhed in anticipation. Jason scrambled to his jean pocket and pulled out a condom from his wallet. He pulled it down across his large dick. It felt tight, but it was worth it to be safe, right? He pulled Erika to the edge of the bed, his primal instincts raging. With the tip of his dick, he gently caressed Erika’s warm, pink pussy. She moaned in response. “Wait, wait!” she gasped. “What?” “Take it off, take off the condom.” “But aren’t you-“ “I want your cum inside of me,” she heaved, “I need it. I don’t care what happens.” Jason peeled off the condom. This was his purpose. As he looked down at Erika’s throbbing pussy, he knew his destiny was to pleasure her and fill her fertile womb with his seed. He slowly, gently penetrated her with his thick cock. It was a feeling like he had never experienced, and yet felt he was meant for. So warm, so tight, and sticky-soft like honey. He could only get halfway in before Erika yelped, “Slow down, too big, too big!” He leaned over, halfway inside her, and kissed her gently on the forehead. He carefully eased all the way in, as Erika drew a deep breath through her teeth. Just as slow, he eased back out again. “Shit,” Jason grunted, “your pussy is so fucking tight.” He drew in and out, in and out, slowly but with increasing rhythm, as Erika writhed and moaned in pleasure. Looking down at her was a huge man, rippling, muscular arms tensed to brace his heavy weight. His face contorted into a wince of pleasure with his rhythmic thrusts as he felt her pussy clench around his stiff cock. Jason saw his powerful glutes at work in the mirror, and flexed a bicep as he thrust into Erika’s warm, tight, hole. He looked powerful, strong, masculine. Thousands of years of evolution had led to this moment, but in this moment, he was king. He was master. Erika screamed and twisted, and Jason felt the strongest clench yet around his thrusting cock. Instinctively, he knew he had made her cum. He continued plunging inside at that angle, thrust after thrust, until he felt her spasm of pleasure three more times. The pleasure in his own dick was growing by the second, unimaginable ecstasy combined with the powerful feeling that, of all available men, this woman chose him to penetrate her and fill her with his DNA. After three thrusts of incredible bliss, Jason tensed every muscle in his young, hulking body. He dove his dick as deep inside Erika as possible, and with a deep, guttural grunt, exploded inside of her. This was not like any orgasm he had ever had before. This time, he was fulfilling his destiny. With every throb of his powerful cock, he was pumping Erika’s fertile womb with his hot, sticky, essence. He could feel her pussy pulling him in deeper, as if to drink every last drop of his virile juices. Spent, Jason withdrew and Erika was left heaving on the bed. “Wow,” she muttered, “just, uhhhh…” Jason looked between her legs, still spread wide open. Her pussy was a deep red from his efforts, and he could see the smallest bit of white semen spilling out as she basked in the afterglow. “Damn,” he thought, “that’s my cum in her pussy.” For a brief moment, he panicked. Did he just ruin his life? But as he crawled back into the bed with Erika, he imagined his sperm swimming inside of the woman beside him, and he grew aroused once more. He imagined her young, feminine figure swollen with the result of his semen, his DNA, his child, and he secretly, in some deep, primal part of himself, wished it would happen. Maybe he got called “daddy” for a reason. It was his fate to pass on his powerful, strong genes. That was the primal urge he felt. The drive that every fiber of his virile body worked together to achieve. He knew in that moment, his large, hairy figure next to the exhausted woman he just fucked, her womb filled to the brim with his masculine essence so much it spilled out of her; This is what it feels like to be a man.
  2. 31 points
    I know it's been quite a while since I posted a story on here but here's a new one for your reading pleasure. Oh jeeze, what is it this time? I thought as I saw Ollie trudging up the street. Even though it had been a dry day he was absolutely soaking wet to the point where his thin, white shirt was plastered to his body, making it virtually see through. Ollie was what you’d class as your stereotypical nerd; skinny body, thick rimmed glasses, hair slicked back and always dressed smartly, although right now his hair was a little dishevelled and he had a shoe missing. “Hey Ollie, what happened to you?” I asked as he approached our front yard where I’d been mowing the lawn. “Hello Thomas, I was wondering if you still had the spare key to my house. Mine was lost in the Claypool when that Neanderthal Derek Martin and his cronies decided to throw me in just now.” That certainly explained the state he was in. Derek Martin had been picking on Ollie, and anyone else he deemed to be too wimpy to share oxygen with him, since we were back in school. Even though I’d tried to get him to back off it just ended up with me getting ganged up on as well. He and his friends always seemed to hang around by the Claypool, the small lake on our housing estate, causing trouble and just generally being belligerent. I would have thought Ollie would have taken the long way around to avoid it but obviously not. Ollie and I had known each other for a while but we didn’t really hang around in the same circles. I was quite athletic and quite popular whereas Ollie was brilliantly smart academically, but not so much when it came to street smarts. Chances are he’d been daydreaming about some ridiculously complicated equations on the way and just gone on autopilot home when he passed Derek. We both still lived with our parents, who had been close since before we were born, so they each had keys to the other’s houses just in case one of us needed them, so I quickly dashed in to retrieve it. “Come on then, let’s get you home.” I said as I locked my front door. “There’s no need for you to come along, I will be fine on my own.” He protested. “Don’t worry about it; I’ve got nothing much to do anyway. Besides, I want to know what Derek did this time.” Ollie reluctantly agreed and we made our way to his house, a few doors down from mine. On the way he told me about his altercation with Derek and how they’d physically thrown him into the pool and just stood there laughing as he thrashed about before he was able to crawl his way to the edge. He had been so preoccupied with trying to keep his head above the water and not lose his glasses that he didn’t notice his pockets were empty until he’d made it back to dry land. Derek had just laughed as they walked away, even though Ollie begged them for help finding his stuff. In his bedroom I sat on the bed as he paced around, clearly still agitated by what had happened before. He always seemed to struggle when dealing with people as he never seemed to understand them emotionally. He could name every part of the human anatomy with ease but he could never figure out the complexities of the behaviour of any living thing. He never felt the need to have pets as he thought they stupidly showed affection for you, purely because you elected to take care of them, and he could never love them back as he found the idea of showing them affection simply for occupying his living space as being absurd. I tried asking him once about why he showed his parents he cared for them but he just said that was because he owed it to them for giving birth to him and nurturing him up to this point. When it comes for the time to them to pass on he would merely see that as them having completed their job and no longer being able to be a useful member of society. I did kinda wonder how he would actually feel when that day came but maybe it would just mean nothing to him. “I just don’t understand the mentality of that reprobate.” He finally said, snapping me out of my ponderings. “Why does he feel the need inflict violence upon me simply because I chose to walk that route home?” “Because he’s an asshole.” I replied but I could see that didn’t help. “Because he clearly has self-esteem issues and sees bullying you as a way to make himself feel better.” “But that’s absurd, if he feels that something is wrong with him then he should channel that energy into improving that aspect of himself, rather than attacking other people.” He had a point, but like I said, Ollie really didn’t understand people. “Yeah but he doesn’t see it like that. All he sees is someone smarter than him, who will probably do better in life, so he just uses his obvious size advantage to make himself feel superior.” “So what should I do to prevent a repeat occurrence?” “Maybe you could try coming to the gym with me, you know, put a little muscle on.” I suggested, although I knew he wouldn’t go for it. “So increasing my muscle mass could make him less likely to pursue a course of aggression?” He asked and I just nodded. “Very well if you think it will help.” I was surprised how easy it was to convince him to come and train with me but before I could work out when to get him started I noticed something very strange. Ollie’s clothes suddenly became much tighter and I could swear he suddenly had muscles bulging underneath them. “What the hell?” I exclaimed, suddenly sitting bolt upright on his bed. “There, so do you think this will alleviate the problem?” He asked, looking down at his slightly enlarged body. “What the fuck dude!?!? Did you just make your muscles grow?” I asked, not believing what I had just seen. “Of course, so do you think this will help?” He asked again, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “Forget about that, how the hell did you do that?” “I’ve been able to do it for a while. I was tired of asking for assistance if I needed heavy supplies for my experiments so I developed some nanites to stimulate my muscle fibres, giving me extra strength. The ability to control my musculature development came as a by-product of that experiment.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I knew he was smart but to create something like this to solve such a mundane problem was astounding, not to mention his blasé attitude about it. “So you can grow your muscles anytime you want? How big can you get?” I asked. “Oh significantly larger than this, but I would rather not damage my clothing.” “So take them off and get bigger.” I almost pleaded. “Why? Would you say this is insufficient to deal with Derek?” I just nodded. “Very well, tell me when will be adequate.” I thought he was going to burst out of his clothes right in front of me but instead he dwindled back down to his original size and then carefully removed his shirt and trousers, folding them neatly and laying them on the bed beside me. He then started to increase his size and definition at an incredible rate. He went from being so skinny that I could almost see his ribs to a heavyweight bodybuilder in a matter of seconds. His thick neck was sandwiched between two mountainous traps, leading to the huge, pumpkin shaped shoulders holding up his colossal arms. If he flexed those biceps I was in no doubt they would almost dwarf any softballs held up to them, probably in both size and hardness. Then there was his chest, jutting out a few inches from his body so his pecs cast a shadow over the insanely ripped blocks of muscle making up his eight pack abs. There didn’t look to be an ounce of fat on him and you could see the veins crisscrossing his body, even down on his trunk sized legs. Every muscle on him was shredded to an insane degree and I could only imagine his back could look like a map of the Rocky Mountains. Facially he was every bit the nerd he had always been, but below that he had the body of a Greek god. After a few seconds I realised he wasn’t growing anymore and just seemed to be looking at me as if waiting for my approval. “Wow. So is that your maximum size?” I asked, hoping he didn’t think he was too small, even though I would kill to be half his size. “This is the maximum size I can reach without increasing my height any further. If I were to grow any larger then I would have to get taller to accommodate the size, but then I would remain at that height even if I reduced my musculature.” As unbelievable as his body now was I could only imagine what sort of insane size he could achieve if he didn’t care about his height. “So if you can grow this big whenever you want, wouldn’t you prefer to big and muscular all the time?” “Absolutely not. Being this size is quite cumbersome.” I think he could see the look of confusion on my face. “Trying to carry out everyday tasks in a confined space such as this is quite problematic as I am forever colliding with the furniture, and even something as simple as entering a room can create issues as I have to manoeuvre my body in such a way as to not damage the door frame.” My dick was as hard as rock looking at the monster in front of me, and thinking about him just smashing through a doorframe without even noticing it was close to tipping me over the edge. “So do you…you know…beef up whenever you want to get stronger?” “Fortunately not as I have no larger clothing with which to cover my enlarged form. I can increase my strength without having to increase my size, even though it can sometimes create a more vascular look to my physique if I increase my strength by quite a large degree.” “So how strong can you get?” I asked, still barely keeping it together. “To be honest I have never fully tested my capabilities, which is ironic considering most scientists like to test the results of every experiment they undertake. I purely did this to make my life easier but I suppose the most weight I have lifted so far would be about the equivalent of a bulldozer.” “You mean you pulled that weight along? On wheels?” I asked. “Not at all, I mean actually raised into the air, with one arm.” I couldn’t help it at that point, my body gave up and I suddenly felt the warm cum splatter my underwear. Ollie must have noticed me shudder as he pulled a confused face. “Did you just ejaculate?” “Yeah…” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “What a peculiar thing to do. Why do you suppose that happened?” He asked and I just burst out laughing, making him look even more confused. I suddenly realised though that I was in a confined space with a massive, super strong nerd who had been bullied and laughed at for years, and could probably tear me in half with absolutely no effort at all for laughing at him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh it’s just…you’re probably the most amazing, sexy thing…guy I’ve seen in…well…ever.” I gushed. “So you find my increased musculature and feats of strength to be arousing?” He still looked at me like I was crazy. “You mean you don’t?” I asked in amazement. “You can look at yourself like that in a mirror and not be turned on?” He turned to face the mirror as his face gave away a look of disdain. “Of course not, if anything it feels slightly alien and uncomfortable. And those veins all across my body are quite unsightly.” I couldn’t believe this. Here was a guy who had the ability to become every man’s dream on a whim and he didn’t seem to be interested in it at all. If anything it was just a tool for him. “So you don’t flex and pose in the mirror? You don’t marvel at how hard your muscles are? Do you have any idea how many guys would love to do what you can do?” “So you would like to look like this?” He asked, turning the question around. All I could do was to nod solemnly. “Can I feel what they’re like?” I asked, feeling bold. “If you wish to, although I hardly see the appeal.” I stood up and tentatively walked over to him. When he was smaller I never really noticed that he was a couple of inches taller than me, but now, as he was larger in every capacity it was quite unnerving. I reached out to touch his chest and was amazed at the warm, granite like feeling beneath my hands. There was still some give in it but not a lot. “Have you ever tried flexing your muscles in the mirror?” I asked. “I have no idea what you mean. They appear to flex themselves whenever they move but that really is all.” I showed him how to flex his chest and felt as it turned into corrugated steel beneath my fingers, then I showed him how to do a bicep flex and marvelled as they felt, and almost looked, like bowling balls either side of his head. As it went on I started to get more delicate and sensual with my caressing, and when I started fondling his nipples I could see it was clearly having an effect on him as he seemed to hum in approval. I decided to be extra brave and work my way down towards his crotch, even feeling his concrete like ass cheeks beneath his underwear, until I gradually started to slip his shorts down. “Hmmm…I was kinda expecting everything to be bigger.” I said, looking down at his rather underwhelming cock. “I never saw the need to enlarge my penis but if you think it would add to the effect…” He trailed off and I immediately saw his dick plump up to a sturdy ten inches soft, with some substantial balls below it. Throwing caution to the wind I quickly started to stroke it and salivated as it grew harder, before taking it into my mouth. Just as suddenly I felt myself flying back towards the bed and landing in a heap on the floor. “What on Earth do you think you were doing?” He asked, looking down at me in disgust. “I…thought you might want me to suck you off…you know…give you a little pleasure.” I replied, staring up at the muscle god in front of me and hoping I hadn’t made a grave mistake. “I see, so would this be just for my pleasure or for your own as well?” “Well…I can’t say I won’t enjoy it, but I’m sure you’ll like it too.” “Very well, I have never experienced fellatio before so perhaps I should take you up on your offer to ascertain how it feels. You may proceed.” Even though he made it sound so clinical I didn’t have to be asked twice. I crawled over and hefted the incredible piece of meat in my hands, sensually stroking it until it regained its hardness. I decided to tease him a little at first and just delicately ran my tongue along the length of his cock, tickling the head with the softest touch and I could see it was having an effect on him as his head rolled back slightly. I decided to see how much I could actually take and plunged his huge tool into my mouth until I had my face buried in his pubes. As I started to get a rhythm going he seemed to be swaying slightly and then, amazingly I found myself lifted off the ground as he flexed his cock. I quickly pulled away as he turned to walk towards the bed. “Holy shit!! You could have given me some warning.” I yelled, even though I was more in awe than angry. He sat down on the edge of the bed with his cock pointing straight up like an angry missile. “I must apologize but I feared I may not remain upright if that continued. If you could resume your activities then that would be most appreciated.” I knelt down and continued to suck on his rock hard member, looking up occasionally to see his incredible body tense and writhe above me. I knew he was getting close as he started to breathe harder, letting out more and more pleasurable moans until finally with a deep roar I felt his cock begin to spasm as I was blasted across the room by his first spurt. He continued to fire shot after shot into the air, splattering against the ceiling before raining down on me. What finally tipped me over though was seeing how his toes had curled over and left deep grooves in his hardwood floor. I blew another huge load into my shorts just watching the incredible display in front of me. “Oh my god.” I exclaimed as Ollie sat up to face me. His huge cock was left dangling over the edge of the bed, dripping the last remnants of his incredible seed into the newly carved grooves at his feet. “That was most agreeable, thank you Thomas.” He looked around the room at the mess he’d made and seemed to concentrate for a second before letting out a deep breath. As he did all the cum on the ceiling, the floor and even all over me seemed to instantly evaporate. “What the fuck just happened there?” I asked. “I released some nanites to break down my emissions rather than having to clean them up manually.” He replied matter-of-factly. “Wait, so I have your nanites on me now?” “Fear not, they self destructed when their job was done. They cannot exist outside my body unless I allow them to.” I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed as I hoped they could latch on to me or something like that and allow me to grow huge. “So back to my original problem, do you believe this would be a sufficient deterrent for Derek and his hoodlums?” “Absolutely, although I doubt you could just walk up to him tomorrow looking like that and not have any questions asked.” “Quite true, perhaps I should wear a disguise of some sort.” “You’ve kinda got a disguise already; here’ let’s try this.” I walked over to him and started to mess up his hair and then took off his glasses. “There. The glasses changed the shape of your face slightly and with a different hair style and, not to mention a completely different body, he wouldn’t even recognise you.” Ollie went to look at himself in the mirror but that brought up another problem. “Unfortunately my eyesight is severely compromised without my spectacles.” “Have you ever tried contact lenses?” “Heavens no, the thought of putting something in my eye is quite unsettling. I may have another solution though.” He started to concentrate again and then blinked a few times. “Much better, and I see now what you mean about my altered appearance; even my own family would struggle to recognise me.” “Wait, did you just correct your eyesight?” “Technically the nanites corrected it but for all intents and purposes it was me who did it.” I was dumbfounded. These nanites were incredible, and could quite easily cure a lot of people. “Have you thought about sharing these nanites with the world? They could do a lot of good you know.” “They could also be used in quite nefarious ways as well. Do you honestly think any government would use these to help people out? I think not, there are far too many military applications available for this technology.” “Like what? Besides the strength I mean.” “The strength alone would be a major benefit to any army but there are also other capabilities. There’s a Swiss Army knife in my top drawer, bring it over here and try to stab me with it.” I found the knife where he said it was but I felt very reluctant to do what he asked. After he assured me a few times I hesitantly poked him in his enormous, left pec. The first time the skin just dented a little and he encouraged me to do it again but harder so I obliged. His skin was hard as diamond but there was still a little give in the muscle as he probably didn’t want to damage the knife. After a couple more times the knife suddenly pierced the skin and stuck there in his chest. I was horrified at what I’d done but Ollie just looked amused. “Don’t worry, I allowed my skin to be penetrated there. Obviously you can see that nothing can break my skin but if, for whatever reason, I ever needed to be injected with something, I can allow the nanites to make my skin less dense.” As I watched the knife started to get pushed outwards until it fell to the ground and then, miraculously, the wound that was caused by it sealed up and healed over without leaving a trace. “So as you can see, the military would be very interested in having unbeatable soldiers and that cannot be allowed to happen.” “So would you be able to make these nanites available to anyone, like me for example?” I was excited at the thought of being able to experience what Ollie was going through and couldn’t wait for him to offer me the chance. “Theoretically yes, they could be adapted to map onto your genetic code.” “Wow, so I would be able to do what you can do?” I was practically salivating at the thought of that power. “If I were to make them available to you then yes.” “What do you mean if?” “Well I have no intention of sharing this with anybody.” “What? Why not?” I asked, getting slightly angry that he should want to keep me out of this. “As I said, there are too many people who could exploit it so I would prefer that it stays with me.” “But I thought you’d want someone to share it with, you know to experiment with it.” I was trying to plead with his inner scientist to see if that would work. “Frankly I have no desire for further experimentation; I obtained the extra strength I needed to aid with some experiments and as a bonus made myself impervious to more risky endeavours. As far as I can ascertain there is nothing left to assess.” “Ok, but what about sharing it with a friend?” This was the last card I could think to play. “Would you really call us friends? Our parents are friends and our relationship is purely a by-product of that, if it weren’t for them we would have very little in common.” “But what about earlier? I sucked you off!!” I was starting to get angry now. “Indeed you did, but that was as much for your own benefit as mine. You clearly have some infatuation towards my increased musculature and my enhanced endowment, but had I asked you perform fellatio on me yesterday as my regular self would you have been so forthcoming? I highly doubt it. You even went so far as to call me sexy earlier, again a sentiment you did not share yesterday. All you see now is a chance to fulfil your own fantasies with me in this grotesquely oversized form with a brief glimmer of expectation that you could experience it yourself.” “What about if I went to the press or the military about this?” “And tell them what? That one of your neighbours can enhance his body using technology no one else has invented yet? Do you honestly think they would take you seriously? And let’s say they did; what then? They try to take me away to learn about the technology, which could take them years to develop a prototype and do you really think they would invite Joe Bloggs from the suburbs to be the first recipient? You would have nothing to gain from that except a petty act of revenge.” “Please Ollie; this is all I’ve ever wanted.” I could think of no other argument so my last course of action was to plead for it. “Then perhaps you should have invented the technology yourself instead of trying to get it without putting the work in. Now if you don’t mind I would like to get myself cleaned up. Thank you for assisting me with the key earlier; I shall drop it back in a few days when I’ve had a replacement cut.” I started to walk towards Ollie’s door and took one look back at that magnificent body as he started to dwindle back to his regular, nerdy self. With his hair messed up and without his glasses he was actually really good looking, even without the massive muscles, only I hadn’t seen that before and now it was too late. “Could we, maybe do this again someday?” I asked hopefully. “I highly doubt it but who knows.” With that I left his house and made the short walk home. I felt a tiny glimmer of hope from his last statement but knowing him the way I did I wouldn’t put it past him to think nothing more of the entire encounter. When I got home I went straight to my room and just sat on the stairs, feeling numb. The guy of my dreams was living just a few houses away but I clearly wasn’t what he wanted. Maybe someday things would change…I could only dream.
  3. 31 points
    PART 8b After the fiasco with Wes and Sammy, I needed to cool off. No way was I going in the ocean either—too much salt, hurts my eyes. So, of course, I headed to the pool. There, I was expecting to find Froy. On the way there, a number of my co-workers passed by on their way to the beach, smiles on their faces, totally unaware of what happened with Wes just moments ago. Thank god. The amount of gossip that sprung from Wes’ and Marcus’ rapid surges in size a few days before definitely garnered some attention. Just when I thought we finally got Wes under control, we lost him again. I hoped Sammy would be enough to stop Wes from doing something stupid. If he wasn’t, then, eh, we could always drain him again. But I can’t help but wonder why he grew so much more from one bout of cum this time than any of the times he’d drunk his own before. Was it because it was someone else’s? Or was it another reason completely? I couldn’t tell. Regardless, it was done. When I got to the pool area, there were surprisingly few people there, lounging on the poolside beds, enjoying a cocktail at the bar, and doing a couple of laps in the water. I walked around a bit to look for Froy—my big ol’ intern. As I was mindlessly walking around, I heard a woman’s voice call me. “Hey. Dory.” It was Lisa, Marcus’ girlfriend, sitting on a bed under a palm tree canopy with an oversized mimosa in her hands. It was good to see her again, a familiar face, especially considering I thought she was going to hole herself up in her room through the vacation. She was as beautiful as ever, except maybe the eyebags under her eyes. As usual, she was wearing red—a satin bikini that beautifully complemented her luscious blonde hair. “Come over here and chat with me,” she hollered. “I could use a little company.” So, I did. Who was I to keep a woman waiting? “Hey, Lisa. How’re you doing?” I walked over and sat on the bed next to her, sharing a smile with her. “I’m good so far, thanks for asking. It was good to get a break from Marcus and finally get some well-earned sleep if I do say so myself. What about you? How’s your day been? I don’t think it’s anywhere as dull as mine.” “Uh, y’know… the usual. Spent some quality time with my intern—“ She smirked, aggressively sipping her drink. “Private quality time.” I blushed. “Yep. And then I met the resort’s owner.” “Oh? Do tell. What was he like? Is he how I imagine him to be? Short, stubby, in his 60’s, probably wading through his third mid-life crisis in a row.” “Actually, he’s the same age as Wes. 31, I think. And he’s pretty tall too, 6’4”... 3”! I mean 6’3”.” Lisa crossed her legs and leaned ever closer. “Oh my, keep going. Were you able to tell what he’s into? A man as rich as he is must need an outlet for a little fun, right? I know just what to give a guy who thinks he’s got everything.” “He’s also very, very gay.” Lisa grunted and her eyes rolled to the back of her skull. “Ugh. Damn it. It was worth a shot, I s’pose. So is there a reason you came to the pool? Or are you just looking to have some fun?” “I was actually looking for Froy. Have you seen him? He told me he was going to be at the pool in the afternoon, but he isn’t here.” Another sip. “Ah, I think I may have seen him head into the dressing room with Avery a few minutes ago. Poor kid looked like he could barely walk! Your intern had to hold him up on the way there.” My stomach fell. “Oh...” Out of my ass. “Okay.” Right onto the floor. “And they haven’t left yet?” Lisa shook her head, tossing her hair to the side. “Nope. Your intern sure does get around though, doesn’t he?” I feigned a smile. “Yeah. I guess he does.” Lisa frowned and offered me her mimosa. “Aww, it’s okay. Why don’t you spend some time here with me while we wait? Heaven knows you’re not in the right headspace to be talking to anyone. Besides me, of course.” Sigh. “Yeah, sure.” I grabbed her mimosa with both hands and drank a generous gulp. “Sorry. Not in the right headspace.” She smiled. “No worries. Marcus is paying for everything I’m spending anyway. Apparently he opened up some online subscription and been getting a whole lot of money off cam videos.” “Of course he has. I wouldn’t be surprised if he already had one even before he started growing.” “In his defense, I don’t actually think he did…” Her face and tone went sombre. “He was happy with what we had. But recently, it’s like he forgot about me. It’s like he’s been more into himself everyday and seems to want more than I can give him,” she said. “If my aching, cavernous vagina isn’t proof of that, then his damn bank account is.” “So you don’t like that he’s growing?” Lisa shot me a scornful look. “Of course not! I mean, yeah, I liked it for the first few days. He was already a pretty cocky boy but when he started getting taller and more muscular, like damn. But when he grew past the 11” mark that bar night, I had enough. He fucked me every single hour this past weekend and didn’t even use a condom. I mean, how could he? Who the fuck even makes condoms that big?” She sighed, swiping the mimosa out of my hand and chugging it all down in one straight go. I folded my legs up onto the bed. “Oh, I think I kinda see what you mean. He’s definitely been different lately.” “Thanks for seeing my side. I don’t like being just another sex thing. I only want us to be back to normal. No more of the embiggening alien shit. I don’t want to break up with him because of what makes him happy. But if he keeps growing, I won’t have a choice.” “Should I get you another mimosa?” I asked. “Seems like you need it.” She laughed, laying down onto the bed. “No, no. I may not have working reproductive organs anymore after getting my womb pounded by a goddamn jackhammer 24/7, but I’d still like to keep my body shape.” I followed suit, laying down on the bed and enjoying the peaceful serenity of the resort. Thankfully, Lisa was surprisingly easy to get along with and embraced the ambience, only speaking every few minutes to offer me a sip of her water. The two of us rested on our poolside beds, taking in the silence and soft sunlight, half-asleep and half-wondering-what-the-fuck-Froy-was-doing-in-the-dressing-rooms. That last bit may have just been me though. As I was about to fall asleep, a deep shadow blocked out the sun. I wondered if it was an eclipse, but I didn’t hear any reports on the news. Then again, no one reported on the meteor either. “Who turned off the sun?” I asked. “Huh?” Lisa replied. I slowly opened my eyes and saw a hulking mass of lean muscle standing at my feet, hands at the waist, proudly holding up their chest. No doubt, it was one of the tallest people I’d ever met, with just enough muscle to appear grossly powerful while maintaining a modelesque physique. When my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw Froy’s adorable face smiling down at me from high above. We locked eyes and he instinctively started stretching—grunting—flexing his big arms right in my face. He knew how to get me hard. And I could tell he was getting hard too. Even through his white trunks, the thick, salami-sized outline of his cock was starting to crawl down his thigh again. Or was he soft? “Hi, sir!” he said. “I’m glad you made it. Look, I got to put my shorts back on. They tore a bit when I took them off this morning, so I took a while, but now they’re all sewn up.” “Oh, what ever could have happened this morning, I wonder,” Lisa whispered, pretending to ignore us. “I didn’t know you could sew. Is there anything you can’t do?” I asked, smiling at him. “A lot of things.” He bit his lip and walked over to my side of the bed where his swollen endowment loomed dangerously close to my face. “Do you want to see it?” I could feel the blood rush to my face. “See... what?” “The rip. See?” He turned sideways and began stroking the fully stretched-out garter above his enormous bubble butt. I could also see his cock fighting for space in his undersized trunks. His fingers stroked the firm slabs of meat he had for an ass with such tenderness that he was practically stroking himself. It was like he was checking himself out in a mirror, but I was in no way a reflection of his immensity. Far from it—I was a shadow. I wanted to reach out and touch it, grab it, worship it, worship him—all of him. “It’s actually pretty well-done, wow. Where’d you even get a sewing kit?” I asked. “Oh, Avery came back to the beach house, so I asked him. He just said he brought one just in case,” Froy said. “Then we came here together after he got ready.” “Wes’ boy can sew too? How surprising,” Lisa said. “He probably got scared his dad was going to start tearing through his clothes again. It wouldn’t be the first time,” I said. Froy nodded, stepping back. “Yeah, sir. That’s what he told me.” Lisa glanced at Froy. “And where is he now?” He pointed at the dressing rooms. “He’s in the men’s room. He said he was coming out, but he hasn’t left yet.” “You were with him?” I asked. Froy smiled, nodding. “He asked me to join him so we could talk in private. But, I don’t really know how to deal with him.” “And what could you boys have talked about?” Lisa asked. “So privately.” “I—I don’t think he’d want me to tell you. He said it was personal.” I stood up, making sure not to bump into Froy. “I can go check on him. I was going to take a piss anyway.” Froy’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure, sir?” I hopped on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “Yeah, you go ahead and wade around in the kiddie pool. I’ll be back to swim with you in a bit.” He smiled back and very subtly readjusted his trunks. “Okay.” “Or while you wait, why don’t I order you a nice drink?” Lisa asked. “It’s free of charge.” Froy shook his head and hands in rejection and gave a nervous smile. “Ah, no, it’s okay, thank you. I don’t drink.” However, Lisa insisted. “Oh, come on. A vacation like this only comes once in a lifetime! We’ll start you off with something mild. That okay with you, Biggie Smalls?” “I… I guess so.” I put on my shoes and got ready to go. “Hey, don’t make Froy do anything dumb, okay? We don’t pay him to be wasted.” Lisa smirked. “Then what do you pay him for?” It’s okay, sir! I’ll be fine with Ms. Lisa,” Froy said. Lisa groaned. “Don’t call me Miss! You make me sound like your boss. Actually… nevermind. Keep calling me that.” I didn’t reply. My face was already at its peak flush, I could feel it. As Froy took my bed next to Lisa, I headed into the dressing rooms as fast as I could. Taking my first steps in, it was surprisingly colder than I anticipated. The last time I went to a resort was when I was a kid, so I never realized that dressing rooms were air-conditioned now. Thankfully, they were comfortably empty as I wandered inside. It was strange because I was expecting to find Avery in plain sight. Then I saw him sitting alone on a bench all the way opposite from the door. He was hunched over, wearing beach trunks and a black rash guard, fidgeting with a small hand towel in his hands. I didn’t know what he was doing. As I got closer, I could almost hear the faint sound of sniffling. Then I figured, he was crying. I walked up to him and sat down at his side. He jumped the moment he saw me, yelping in fear. I could see the look in his eyes. His red, swollen eyes. “Ah-oh, my god, I-I, uh…” I patted him on the back. “Hey, just relax. I was just gonna take a piss, but I heard you crying. Thought I’d comfort you or something.” “Oh, no, it’s okay. I’m fine.” “Oh, please, there’s no such thing as a teenage boy crying alone in the men’s room being ‘fine’. There’s obviously something wrong. I know, I’ve been there.” He looked at me. “No, really. It’s nothing.” “Really gonna make me guess, huh. Fine. Is it family? Friends? What about school? ...Is it Froy?” At the mention of his name, Avery stared at me, puzzled. “Why would you think it’s about Froy?” I panicked. “Uh, nothing, Lisa just told me you two were in here earlier. So what is it? I’m not judgmental… Much, but I promise I won’t say a word.” “I… Fine. But only if you don’t tell anyone else.” “I’ll keep your secret, don’t worry.” Avery nodded, blowing his nose into the towel. “It’s just school. There are these kids bullying me. They’re all younger than me, but they keep making fun of me for being shorter than them. One of them is my old friend, and he’s only 13, but he’s already 5’10”. They just keep making fun of me and teasing me for being so short and skinny and pathetic.” “Ah, I know the problem. I’ve been there.” “You have?” I nodded. “Yeah. The thing with idiots like those is that they don’t expect you to fight back. They can’t handle that shit.” He chuckled. “I’m not exactly big. I can’t just magically change sizes like my dad and beat them up.” “There are other ways to defend yourself, y’know.” He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Are you gonna tell me to go to the principal?” “Oh, fuck the principal. All they ever care about is reputation and money. There are two things you can do. One is you be nice to them—” He laughed in disbelief. “‘Be nice’? Are you kidding? You want me to make friends with the devil?” “Yeah, I mean, they expect you to get hurt, so show them you don’t give a fuck, and they’ll leave you alone. The other thing you can do is find a different way to overpower them. Become popular or get the highest grades… or you can do what Marcus did and frame them for things they didn’t do. Very illegal things.” “Uh…” “If you get desperate, there’s a third option I always used. I’d just offer to suck them off, and they’d leave me alone. But I don’t recommend that one. Especially if you’re a biter.” “I feel like I was supposed to learn something. But I feel even worse now that I know my options.” “Well, have you asked your dad? I’m sure he’s dealt with bullying too.” Avery shook his head. “No, I don’t talk to him. He barely even cares about our family with all his secrets.” “So who have you asked?” “Uh, Froy. Twice. Once in the coffee shop at the bus terminal and then a while ago. I thought he’d know something since he’s my age and so—big! We tried finishing what you interrupted, but he left me here suddenly.” “Oh, so that was you in the washroom? Why were you in there?” “I didn’t want my dad to see me crying. I’m his only son. My sisters are from my mother’s old husband. He doesn’t want me to be weak.” “Hey, you’re still alive. So you’re not weak. And there’s more than one way to be strong. Trust me.” He frowned, looking me in the eyes. “But I… I just want to know what it feels like. To be big and tall too.” “You’ll get your chance one day. You’re still a growing boy. Just remember, the bigger you are, the harder you’ll fall.” He smiled, flailing his hands as if to mock me. “Oh no, ancient wisdom.” “It’s true!” I said. “Even if you don’t take my advice, I hope I helped a little bit at least.” His smile grew wider as he stood up and turned to me. “You didn’t. But thanks for trying. You’re a better dad than my own.” Then he laughed. I stood up and lightly punched him in the chest. “At least you’re feeling better. Now go have fun or something. I need to piss.” He clasped my hand in both his hands and looked me in the eyes. “Thanks.” Then he left. And I nearly pissed myself from that long-ass talk. Jeez. I ran to the closest urinal and relieved myself of what felt like a lifetime’s worth of urine. It felt good. Not just taking the piss but finally knowing the truth behind Froy and Avery’s relationship. There was none. When I was about to leave, I caught myself in the mirror. I didn’t have a mirror in my apartment, so seeing myself for the first time in so long caught me off guard. Did I like what I saw? Well, I definitely saw ribs. And a baby gut. And a pimple on my bare chest. But no, I didn’t have time to bother myself with stupid insecurities. Not when Froy was outside waiting for me. The moment I stepped back in the sun, I was hit with a faceful of mimosa. I wiped my eyes clean and savoured what entered my mouth. It was delicious, as expected. I turned to see who violated my human rights and saw Lisa standing there with a cheeky smile. She pursed her lips. “So what took you? Hm?” “Nothing that would’ve warranted wasting such an expensive cocktail, that’s for sure.” “I don’t know what took you so long in there with Avery, but Froy was not lying when he said he wasn’t a drinker. I gave him two mimosas and, my god, he was unhinged in seconds. Unbelievable.” I found that hard to believe. “From a mimosa? You’re joking.” I saw her eyes glance towards the side. “Why don’t you go see for yourself?” When I followed her gaze, I first spotted Avery floating harmlessly in the water. He didn’t look dead, at least. Then as my eyes continued travelling, I saw Froy’s huge figure standing at the edge of the deep end of the pool, wobbling, unstable, and clearly very tipsy. “Oh, my god. He doesn’t know how to swim!” I yelled. “Well, you better go get him then,” Lisa said. “How deep is the deep end?” “I dunno. 6 feet?” “Oh jeez. You got me worried for nothing.” From behind, she gave me a quick shove. “Go make sure he doesn’t drown though. I could be wrong. Every time I try to measure Marcus’ dick, I always seem to be an inch or two short.” “God damn it!” I ran off in Froy’s direction at the other end of the pool. The water progressively got bluer the deeper it went, and I began to wonder just how deep the water really was. There weren’t any signs that mentioned how deep the water was, so all I had to go on was what Lisa said. As I ran, it seemed like no matter how fast I was going, Froy didn’t hear me coming at all. He was so out of it. “Froy!” I yelled. When I got within arm’s length, my foot slipped on a wet stone and I fell forward into his back. I didn’t think he’d budge from his size, but he was just tipsy enough to be sent flying into the pool, arms flailing. The splash was incredible—like two fat kids’ worth of cannonballs. I was hit from head to toe in cold, chlorinated water. In the distance, I even heard Avery let out a yelp. When I could open my eyes again, I saw Froy safely standing in the water, his head safely above the surface. His baby-faced smile was gleaming. Before I could even say a word, he leaped forward and grabbed me by the waist, dragging me into the pool with him. I landed face-first into the valley between his pecs—smothered in them—as the rest of my body followed into the water. He embraced me tightly and submerged into the water. I could feel his chest bouncing from what was probably him laughing. His biceps were squeezing my head from both sides of my face, and I could feel something snaking upwards toward my navel. Something very phallic. We eventually emerged from the water, and all I could hear was his boisterous laughter. I’d never heard him be so loud before. He really was drunk. And from a mimosa… He let me go. “Hi, sir!” He laughed. “I missed you while you were gone.” I fixed my wet hair and tossed it back. “Same to you. I thought you couldn’t swim?” “I still can’t. I just figured I was tall enough to stand in the water since most pools only go to 6 feet.” I held his beautiful face in my hands and leaned closer. “But what if it wasn’t? It could’ve been 7 or 8 feet for all you know.” Then he pulled me in closer with a forceful tug. “Then if you want,” I could smell the champagne in his breath, “I could grow even taller.” He plunged me into a kiss that sent my senses into overdrive. His thick lips enveloped my own as he grunted and moaned. He pinned me against his enormous chest with his arms and strong, thick hands. “Do you really want to grow again? Wasn’t Wes enough for you?” I asked, lost in his eyes. He smiled at me and gave a quick peck on my neck. “I dunno, sir. I thought you wanted me to be big.” My heart was racing. “I do! But you’re drunk right now, Froy, I can’t let you do anything you might regret. Don’t forget that you’re the only one who can’t be shrunk or drained by someone else. If you get big, you stay big.” He chuckled. “I-I’m not drunk, sir. Just a little tipsy.” And he leaned in close for another kiss. And so I gave in. I let him kiss me again. This time, with a lot more tongue than I was used to. My other hand reached downwards to adjust my junk when I felt his gigantic prong bump against my wrist. The guy was fully hard. If we weren’t careful, he would tear through his shorts again, and there wasn’t a sewing kit anywhere around this time. “Hey, lovebirds, are you alright?” Lisa asked from behind. Froy released me and nodded, quite drunkenly. “Yeah, we’re good. My 6’5” Froy can stand on the floor,” I said. “Well, that’s good to hear. You two wouldn’t mind spending some time with Avery too, would you?” She raised a pointer finger. Froy and I looked off to the side and saw Avery coughing and struggling to stay afloat in the center of the pool. The poor kid looked like a fish out of water… but back in the water—with no idea how to swim. “I’ll go get him!” Froy said. With the force of a bulldozer, he started wading through the water like it was nothing. The shallower the water got, the more of his hyper muscled body was exposed, causing him to look as though he was growing right out of thin air. He finally got to Avery and carried him back on piggyback. “Got ‘im.” “Good job, Biggie,” Lisa said. Avery sniffled. “But I wasn’t drowning!” “We know,” I said. Around that time, a waiter approached from the kitchen with three oversized mimosas on a tray. Lisa took two. “Thanks, Julio. Hey, Froy, want another drink as a reward?” A great smile grew on his face. “Could I?!” Lisa chuckled, grabbing the last mimosa and handing it over to Froy. “Yup. All yours.” I looked on in shock as Froy raised his huge arm and chugged half the liter glass in a single gulp. He wiggled in the water out of sheer joy. Then without warning, he proceeded to drink the rest of it. While the three of us were used to big men, the poor waiter looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. When Froy finished, he let out a loud exhale and gave me a quick kiss before handing over the glass back to the waiter. Lisa, on the other hand, hadn’t even started on a single glass. “Guess he’s done. That’s all for now, Julio, thank you,” Lisa said. “M-my pleasure, ma’am…” Before the waiter could walk away with the tray and empty liter glass, Froy yelled. “Hu-wait! Wait! Could I have a, uh, uhm… a moe… moji-something?” he said. “Mojo?” I asked. “Mojo Jojo?” Avery added. Avery and I looked at him in confusion. Then Lisa spoke. “You mean… a mojito?” Lisa asked. “Y-yeah! That.” “How do you know what that is, Froy? I thought you didn’t drink,” I asked. He turned around and smiled. “One of my brothers told me it’s what my mom liked to drink when he brought her to the bar. I wanted to try it. Also it’s what Sir Wes ordered when we went out for bar night.” “W-w-will that also be in a liter glass, sir?” the waiter asked. Lisa nodded. “Yeah. And charge it to the same.” The waiter nodded. “O-okay, ma’am. I’ll, uh, be right back with sir’s mojito.” “And add some extra vodka too. Your usual might not have enough to keep him tipsy,” Lisa whispered. With a quick nod, he fled like the Usain Bolt of speed walking. “I’m surprised you still remember what Wes ordered, Froy. I thought you of all people wouldn’t remember. I know Dory here blacked out.” “Yeah, it was strange. Didn’t expect to get drunk so quickly.” “Well, the truth is, I may or may not have added a little something to the mojitos to spice the night up a little bit. But only a little.” “Ah, so it’s your fault I blacked out.” She sighed. “Yeah. And for some reason, something happens to Marcus when he gets drunk. I don’t remember what it was, but it felt like his cock was growing in my mouth. Not sure if you remember.” Lisa hopped into the water and joined us in a quick splashing spree. All of us were laughing as Froy’s powerful waves were practically drowning us. He could shove entire buckets of water into our faces with a single push. The four of us had fun as we swam around and played some more games—all of which Froy was surprisingly good at. He still couldn’t go underwater but with how tall he was, he never needed to. And yes, he got increasingly intoxicated as time, and waiters, went by. Soon enough, his nose was tinged pink and his laughter smelt of lime and mint. I was wondering how much alcohol his body could take. He was just full of surprises. I pitied the dishwashers. When we all eventually tired out, we climbed out of the pool and settled down by the beds, toweling ourselves dry. Avery headed back to the beach house to take a nap before the dinner buffet was served. It was already twilight. The sun was beginning to set and the cloudless sky was a deep orange hue that glowed magnificently on the water’s surface. “I haven’t had that much fun in so long!” I said. “Me too, sir! I loved spending more time with you. So much fun.” Hiccup. Lisa took a sip from her mimosa. “I can’t say the same since I have the lovely pleasure of Marcus pounding my organs into pulp every night. But yeah, it was definitely fun.” “Oh, yeah, where the hell is he? I haven’t seen him all day,” I said. Froy mumbled. “Hm...” Lisa gestured with a hand for us to ignore him. “Ah, I heard him say he was checking out the gym all afternoon before getting a quick massage before heading to the dinner buffet. Actually, I think he’s probably there now. Do you think you could do me a favor, Dory?” “I-I can do it, sir!” Froy exclaimed. “Let me do it for you instead.” Lisa chuckled. “No, it’s okay, Froy. You’re way too out of it to be doing anyone any favors.” Froy pouted and groaned. “So what is it?” I asked. “Pay him a visit and tell him about all the drinks we ordered. It’s not like it affected his credit, but he’d appreciate being told about it at least.” “Sure thing. I’ll head over right away. What about you and Froy? Gonna head to the resto in advance?” I asked. She nodded. “Yep. Most probably. Froy’s a bit too drunk right now to be alone. But I’d still rather babysit your intern than be anywhere near Marcus right now.” “Aight. See you two in an hour. Save a seat for me, okay?” As I left, I gave a miserable Froy a goodbye kiss. He didn’t look very happy. But I knew a little time in bed would get his mind off things, and an entire buffet before that. I couldn’t get what he said out of my mind. That he said I wanted him big. I’m not sure if it’s early on-set Alzheimer’s or if he was putting words in my mouth because I don’t recall ever telling him I wanted him bigger out loud. I could just be remembering wrong though. It was also great to finally clear up the mess with Froy and Avery. So he wasn’t cheating on me. I never should’ve doubted him. As I walked along the stone path of the resort looking for the spa, the sunset over the horizon was one of the best I’d ever seen. It was straight out of a painting. I hoped in that moment that our vacation would never end, that we would be able to live as great as we were forever. Going back to work seemed like such a stormcloud in my mind. The job was great and the benefits are unmatched anywhere else, yes. In fact, people migrate from all over the world just for a chance at applying at Haley & Bennett’s. But I did feel stuck. Just then I heard Sammy’s voice in the distance. “Hey, you! Dorian!” he yelled. He snapped me out of my stupor. “Oh, uh, hey, Sammy. Where’s Wes? I thought you were supposed to be watching him.” He blew raspberries. “Ah, don’t worry about your dear Wesley. All our strongest guards are in his room with him keeping him tranquilized. And no, he hasn’t tried drinking anyone’s ejaculate again. I made sure all the guards are as straight as me.” I had to laugh. “As straight as you?” Sammy nodded. “Yeah, stupid. A lamppost. Duh.” Then he gestured towards the unmistakable lankiness of his… physique. “I… see. So where are you going?” “The restaurant calls for me. I need to be there to help set things up for you and your lovely co-workers. I made sure it’s going to be the buffet to starve all buffets. I’ve got international cuisine, world-class desserts, and free-flowing drinks.” “Free-flowing drinks? Like what?” “Oh, you know. The usual. Vodka, gin, rum, whiskey, wine, absinthe, and that horse piss beer everyone loves so much. Eugh. There’s probably more but I can’t be bothered to name them all for you right now.” “Wow, really going all-out, huh?” “Of course! The La Vida Resort always promises the best. Anything else before I go?” “Nice. So, uh, I kinda need to head to the spa. Do you know where it is?” He looked at me like some kind of idiot. “Are you some kind of idiot? I own the place, obviously, I know where it is. It’s just down this path near the gym. You can’t miss it.” I thanked him for the directions. We said our goodbyes as we separated and headed down different paths. Before long, he was gone—and so was my sense of direction. I didn’t want to miss the dinner buffet, so I hurried down the path Sammy mentioned as fast as I could. If Marcus wasn’t in the spa, I don’t know what I would’ve done. It was my moral obligation as his co-worker to greet the living shit out of him, and I was going to do it if it was the last thing I did. Thoughts and theories started circulating in my head about what Marcus could’ve been up to for the past six hours. It wasn’t often that we were so distant at a work event. Like what Lisa said, he wasn’t the Marcus we came to know and love. He was way more into himself than we were used to—but honestly, when you’re that big, how could you not be? But still, I had to wonder: would there be a way to turn him back to normal? Only the last few slivers of twilight were left in the sky by the time I found the spa. Sammy lied, I did miss it. Multiple times. If the small wooden sign outside didn’t tell me where I was, I would’ve guessed I was in Australia. It didn’t matter if that was even possible or not. At this point in my life, I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. “Fancy, fancy,” I said to myself. I entered the building and was immediately enveloped in a thick cloud of incense. Playing from the ceiling speakers was an oriental melody of mostly whistles and flutes that strangely felt like I was being hypnotized. The lights were quite dim and the atmosphere was set for maximum relaxation. I approached the petite woman at the front desk. It was odd. Nobody else seemed to be present but her. I could see her visibly struggling to maintain her composure, as if something was bothering her immensely—or, more likely, something immense was bothering her. “Hi, I’m looking for a friend of mine. Are there any guests here?” She was sweating. “Uh, ye-yes, we do have someone in the premium room. He just came in ten minutes ago. Would you like to book a masseuse?” “Uh, no, I’m good, thanks. I’m just here to say hi. Marcus Fringe? Y’know… 6’11” dude. Really big.” At the mention of his name, her eyes nearly burst in shock. “Uh, yes, sir, we do have him here at the moment. Unfortunately, we can’t let you see him until you book an appointment. Would you like to book one now?” I cursed Sammy. “Uh, yeah, sure. Dorian Yale.” I turned to the receptionist. “I’ll be going in then, I guess.” My heart was racing in anticipation. I knocked on the door at the end of the hallway, hoping to see a friendly face. Then I was greeted by a loud voice from inside, “Come in!” I opened the door and saw Marcus standing at the mirror, flexing an immense double bicep, the biggest I’d ever seen, his monstrous back turned to me. He was as large as ever, being way over a foot taller than I was. The angular torso he was so proud of when he was only 5’11” had been blown up to explosive proportions. His muscles bulged out every which way, and his torso had become more of a reverse pyramid than a triangle with how many inches his back and chest protruded. Just his shoulders alone looked about the same size as my head. He couldn’t even fit into the custom-fit speedo he wore on the way here. Buck-naked, he was, with his enormous 15” cock tenting the towels wrapped around his waist. With every flex, his muscles would bunch up and seemingly appear to grow. I watched in fear and awe as he moaned in sheer admiration of himself, smiling at his reflection with a confident smirk. In my distraction, I didn’t notice a bunch of women, no more than 5’3”, rearranging the massage beds, presumably to accommodate Marcus. They were awfully short, even at my height. I could only imagine if one stood next to Marcus. She would look like a child—her eye-level pointing straight at his bed of 8-pack abs. And then I walked up closer and was surprised to see that there actually was a masseuse in front of him, eclipsed in his shadow. She was holding a bottle of what looked like sparkling vodka. Marcus turned around and his face glowed when he finally recognized me. “Oh, hey, Dory, what’s up? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” “Same with you. I just came to say hi, check up a bit on you, maybe. Lisa also told me to tell you⁠—” He shook his head. “Aw, come on, stay a while! I’m just about to get a massage. Why don’t you join me? I swear, all the massagers here look like Oompa Loompas.” I walked over to him and joined him in staring at the mirror. The little woman fled when she had the chance. Side-by-side, the two of us looked absurd. In less than a month, Marcus had become Goliath, and I was his David. He was way over twice my width and towered over me. Marcus turned his head and had to tilt his neck all the way down, past his engorged chest, just to get a glimpse of the top of my head. Then he smiled and mercilessly patted my hair like a dog. “You’re lucky, you know, probably being one of the only three people in the world who can grow without ever needing to work out,” I said. “God, I know I am. When I took the job, I didn’t think it would come with benefits like this!” He bent over and flexed his bicep in my face. I put my comparably doll-sized hand on it and marvelled at the sheer hardness of each muscle fiber. “Just look at this, man. You can’t tell me anyone looks as big or hot as I do.” “And I won’t. I just hope you don’t forget life is more than just your sex appeal. Sometimes, you gotta appreciate the little things in life too.” He laughed, shooting me a smirk. “What, like you?” “Yes. Like me.” “Aw.” He wrapped an immense arm around my head and crushed me in between his torso, his pungent musk wafting in my nose. “Of course I appreciate you, man. You’re one of my best friends! And I’m glad to hear you think I’ve got some sex appeal.” “Too much even.” I looked up to see his smiling face and smelled the ever-identifiable smell of vodka coming from his breath. He pulled up his towels and started flexing his legs in the mirror, within my arm’s length. “Just look at how big my thighs are! Some guys don’t even have this much muscle in their whole body, right? I’ve probably got enough beef on my body for every fetish you could possibly think of.” I couldn’t keep my eyes off his reflection—even if I tried. He was just so big. “It’s too bad you’re straight.” He flubbed his lips and bent over to meet my face in the mirror, his head so much larger than mine. “Honest to god, if I were a chick, I’d probably date you, man.” I blushed. “And if I were straight to begin with. But thanks. That means a lot.” Then he stood back up to his full height and led me over to the fully assembled massage beds. “And could someone please hand me another bottle? My friend and I need some refreshementés,” he yelled excitedly. Another masseuse came with another bottle of sparkling vodka. I recognized the brand, Priapus—famous for its extreme potency, highly expensive. When she handed Marcus the bottle, he thanked her kindly and she left in a hurry. Without any trouble, he flicked the cork off the bottle and started chugging the sparkling vodka like his life depended on it. When he finished over half, he looked at me and offered a drink. “Want some? I’ve had a couple bottles. It’s pretty good.” And who was I to refuse? “Sure,” I said. I grabbed the bottle and drank a decent amount, probably no more than a wine glass’ amount. Not as much as Marcus, but more than enough. It was good though, a bit more potent than I was used to, but good. It burned my throat and nose like a motherfucker. I returned the bottle when I finished. For some reason, he had this cheeky smile plastered on his face. It’s like he couldn’t take his eyes off me. I started wondering if he did something, if he played another one of his annoying pranks, because if he did, heaven knows what was going to happen next. “You sure you should’ve drunk so much?” he asked me, unable to control his chuckling. I stared at him, getting lost in his smile, feeling the blood rush to my face. “What do you mean? I drank less than you did.” “Well, yeah! Look at me! It takes a lot of goddamn alcohol to get me hit. And you almost took the same as I did.” I waved him off, thinking it was harmless. “I’m sure it’s fine.” He tilted his head and leaned forward, his lips to my ear. “This vodka isn’t what you think it is. It’s 40% alcohol. It’s also what I used to make the tic-tacs a few weeks ago. Remember those?” When he said that, I couldn’t help but laugh. I’d taken far worse alcohol content before, especially when I went to Asia. I’d never had sparkling vodka before, yes, but I didn’t see how it was any different from the regular stuff. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Why don’t we get a nice massage, huh? After we’re done, we can head straight for the buffet.” He tore off the towels that (barely) covered his junk, and I was captivated by how much bigger it looked under the dim, yellow lighting. Thick veins ran down its shaft and led to a trimmed blonde pubic base. It didn’t seem possible for a cock to grow so massive, but I guessed nothing was off the table anymore. But I had to wonder, did everyone I work with have huge dicks but me? He got on top of the makeshift double massage bed, causing it to creak in protest with every movement. When he finally got settled, he slammed his body down onto the wooden supports, and the loudest crack echoed throughout the room. Some of the masseuses squealed as he groaned, trying to fit his enormous body onto the bed. His feet and elbows hung over the edges, but he was more or less supported. His muscular torso lifted his head up so far from the bed that a pillow had to be placed underneath. “They just don’t make ‘em like they used to,” Marcus said. “If you get any heavier, you might break the damn thing,” I said. He laughed. “Maybe I might. Don’t tempt me, I’m tipsy as fuck.” Then I stripped my own clothes off and laid them off to the side. Seeing my own reflection with Marcus around was demoralizing. For the first time in ages, I felt… lacking. I couldn’t help but compare myself to him and how much I probably looked like a child to him now. But he didn’t say a word. He just looked at me the same way he always did, nothing new, nothing different, and nothing weird. I found comfort in that. Then I got on my bed and laid flat on my stomach. The two of us then got our massages. I couldn’t recognize the masseuse’s style, but it seemed to be a fusion of various kinds. While I got only one, Marcus needed three different women just to apply enough force on his bare flesh to cover enough ground. They all had this expression of fear and desire glued on their faces, entranced by the sheer mass Marcus had. Every muscle I could name—plus some I never even knew existed—was blown up bigger than I could have ever imagined them to be. And I knew, even when nothing was happening, that he was still growing. Just very, very slowly. While we were having our massages, I could hear his beds groaning in protest. He was getting heavier by the second. It wasn’t obvious, but I could tell by his constant shuffling that he was struggling to fit his elbows and ankles on the bed. I was definitely getting drunk, but even I could tell he was expanding wider by the second. Some of the masseuses even started struggling to reach over his back. The way his body was growing, he almost seemed like a balloon being inflated, taking up more and more space. Every so often he’d ask for another bottle of sparkling vodka. By the fifth bottle, his face had flushed pink and he’d laugh after every burp. He was enjoying himself, getting drunk, and so was I—intoxicated on him and his growth. I was hard as fuck. Judging by Marcus’ own sensual moans, it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d been hard the whole time too. After ten minutes, I started dozing off. The alcohol was stronger than I expected and my head was starting to spin, a new symptom whenever I drank. Marcus was probably dead drunk too. I could only imagine how much larger and taller he would be when I woke up. The office would never be the same again. But just as I was about to fall asleep, a powerful booming sound jolted me awake. I looked over to Marcus and saw that he’d actually broken the bed supports and crashed onto the ground in a pile of wood and fabric. I swear it felt like the entire building shook with how much weight collapsed. He groaned as he got up, planting two immense arms on the floor. I was surprised to see he was still able to move them around so freely with how much weight they held. Each arm almost looked like it had as much muscle as each of his legs! His volleyball-sized biceps and swollen triceps bulged out from his arm like two mountains. Then he started laughing. “Holy fuck! I can’t believe this just happened,” he said, looking at me with a feverish smile. “Did you just see that? Fuck, I’m getting so big I’m breaking beds now too!” When he stood up, he was undoubtedly even wider than he was just minutes ago. Every muscle just seemed to distend even further, looking rounder, harder, and more stretched out. Inches at least. He was a walking boulder of pure muscle meat. And it wasn’t just the yellow lighting that made him look beyond swollen. He actually was. Dare I say, he was probably even taller. He might’ve even broken the 7-foot mark. While he brushed off the debris from his body, all the masseuses and I could do was watch in awe and intimidation at the sight of Marcus, who couldn’t be any happier. Then he wobbled, now clearly drunk. He turned to me, and staring me in the face was the biggest cock I’d ever seen⁠—Froy and Wes were no contest. It stood straight out and had a weighted heft to it that rivaled my own arm’s. His arms were stuck at a 45-degree angle and his horse legs were forced to spread apart due to the sheer mass. “Holy shit. Do I look bigger to you?” he asked excitedly. “I feel so… bloated. And heavy.” I got up from the bed and stood in front of him, making sure to leave room between us for his erection. My head was still spinning from the sparkling vodka, but I could tell from where I stood, staring at the underside of his ballooning pecs, that he was undoubtedly taller and broader, even by a little bit. No doubt about it. “Yeah, you do. How much more did you grow?” He shrugged. “I dunno. But I fucking love it. Maybe I should drink more often, huh? It’s like whenever I get drunk, this shit always happens.” “What do you mean?” “D’you forget? Bar night? When you got deadass drunk and slept on me as a pillow. I got drunk too and kinda tore through my clothes. I jumped like four inches that night.” I sat on my bed and took in the view standing less than two meters away from me. “So, what, you grow faster when you’re drunk?” “Yeah, I think so. I mean, look at me! It feels like everything grew 3 inches. I’m probably 7’2” now, can you believe it?” “Yes and no. I think we should get you somewhere safe so you don’t scare the employees.” He shook his head in protest, clearly disapproving of the idea. “Fuck no! I want people to look at me! These little peeps probably won’t see anyone like me in forever, so I’m gonna make sure I give them a show.” Then he started walking over to the masseuses standing against the wall. “Fully interactive.” He was so tall that his frame alone blocked out most of them from view. In his drunken stupor, he nearly fell over and crushed them. No doubt they would’ve been hospitalized. He was as heavy as industrial machinery. He caught himself at the last second, thank god, and fell to the floor on his ass. The masseuses and I gathered around him as he massaged his head and spread his huge legs outwards. Then he called for another bottle of vodka and chugged it down in an instant. With a smirk, he welcomed us with open arms. “Come on, the massage hasn’t ended yet! Still got another ten minutes to go. Get that oil over there and finish what you guys started. I’ll pay extra, I promise!” As if on cue, the four masseuses quickly obeyed and returned with copious amounts of the resort’s artisanal massage oil. It didn’t take long for them to get over their fear—strangely fast, actually. One moment ago, they were cowering in fear. And the next? They were head-over-heels, hands smothered with oil, groping and squeezing every part of Marcus’ newly-grown body. There was more than enough of him to go around. Not even all four of them could fully comprehend the immensity Marcus held. To any normal man, four would have been too much, but for Marcus? Too few. They worshipped him, touching him, rubbing and stroking their own supple hands and bodies against his rock-hard body. All of them were moaning in pleasure, and I was no stranger to the image—but it had always been a fantasy. Not a reality. Seeing his titanic form sat down on the floor was less than sobering. My own miniature hard-on was pointing straight out. And looking at Marcus, I saw that he was smiling at me—with the same foggy eyes I’d seen in Wes earlier that day. He gestured at me with his hand to come over. “Hey, get your tiny ass over here, Dory! Another pair of hands wouldn’t hurt.” More aroused than afraid by the huge man on the floor, I walked over. I grabbed the bottle of oil on the floor and stood at the base of the mountain. Even seated, his head was nearly level with my chest. But his width vastly encompassed me and made me feel like I was in the presence of a statuesque god. “What are you doing standing up? I don’t like you looking down on me.” As he was being pleasured, he reached out a huge hand and grabbed me by the family jewels, pulling me down to the floor. Now on the ground, I was surrounded by legs that nearly looked as big as I was, and in front of me was a literal wall of pure muscle. His pumped up pecs stood out as round spheres that threatened to swell if he so much as breathed too hard. Both nipples larger than any coin. Each of his abs was larger than any I’d ever seen before, but he didn’t have the gut that normally came with the size—instead his bedrock abs clung tightly to his enormous torso. “You like my body, Dory? I know you’re gay, but we’re friends, so I’ll let you cop a feel, aight?” I crawled closer to get a better look, and pinned between my own stick legs was the biggest, longest, and girthiest penis I had ever seen on a man. Wes may have been thick, and Froy may have been long, but Marcus was a whole different category of manhood. Even his balls looked fully juiced and ready to burst. As I readied my hands, Marcus reached out and planted my hands on his chest. He led me where he wanted my trembling fingers to explore, and I loved it. “You like that? Huh, Dory? God, I’ve never felt so horny in my life!” I’d always wanted to worship someone bigger than life, but feeling Marcus’ rock-hard muscles made me realize how small I really was. He moaned, I moaned, and all the other women massaging his legs and arms moaned. It was then that I felt like Marcus was the one to grow. He was going to outgrow all of us. He let go of my hands and raised his arms into a double bicep pose. The masseuses clung onto his biceps, triceps, and forearms, while I groped his muscle tits and twiddled his nipples with my tongue. His cock bounced with ecstasy whenever someone’s tongue stroked any part of his body. And with all five of us worshipping him, he was in heaven. His face was beet red, but his grinning pearl-white teeth still shined through. “Fuck! Fuck, do you ladies and gentleman want me to grow as much as I do?!” he yelled. “”Cuz I wanna grow even more!” “Bigger?” I muttered. He started flexing his biceps, causing them to strain and swell underneath his taut skin. “Yeah, man, bigger is always better!” Repeatedly lowering his arms, raising them. “What are you doing? Are you trying to force yourself to grow?” “While I’m still drunk as shit, yeah, I am! Mmpf, fuck! Wait, I think I feel it… holy shit, MMPF, it feels so fucking good!” He roared. It was practically on command. His growth was more obvious now than it ever had been before. Every single muscle on his body began to swell outwards, racking on the pounds and inches with every passing second—as if he were a balloon being pumped up to impossible proportions. “FUCK! God, yes, keep making me BIGGER!” He wasn’t growing any taller, so his entire body had no room to expand but outwards. The masseuses were being pushed off by the ever-enlarging breadth of his arms and shoulders. Even as his pecs drew closer and closer to my own face, I was mesmerized in the way his thighs and calves swelled out, inch by inch. “MORE!” By the time he finished growing, his body looked unbelievable. The voice in my head told me it would have been impossible to move, but somehow, Marcus’ body adjusted to keep his body as flexible as ever, even with the sheer amount of mass he just added onto it. There was no measuring just how heavy he was anymore. “Holy shit, you’re humongous!” I said. “Fuck yeah, I am! And I am loving every second of this!” His body seemed to tire out as no matter how much he strained his muscles, there was no more growth. The masseuses instinctively returned to worshipping his Herculean mass. While I was still in front of him, I took it upon myself to give him his happy ending. I grabbed his now-even-fatter cock in both my hands and began stroking it. It twitched in my grip, and by the way the head swelled, he was already on the verge of exploding. “Oh, FUUUCK!” Thick, white spurts of cum burst from his manhood, blinding me and knocking me over with such force. Every spurt blasted outwards and splattered all over the floor, nearly hitting the opposite wall at the end of the room. The shower didn’t stop for a good half-minute. When it was over, the masseuses fell to their knees and panted, as if they’d just run a marathon and struggled to find the air to breathe. In fact, my own head began to clear up, as if a fog had just been drained out of my thoughts. I had no idea what had just happened, but suddenly I felt as though I’d never drunk before in my life. I stood up and wiped myself clean with a towel while the other masseuses cleaned up the mess Marcus made. I tried helping him stand up, but all that did was send me back on the floor. Marcus laughed at me but reached out a hand and flung me back onto my feet like it was nothing. He was bigger than ever, and stronger than any man on Earth—I was sure of it. And what did I see on his face? The cheekiest grin I’d ever laid my eyes on. His blonde hair was drenched with sweat that poured down his face, but judging by how close he was to the ceiling, he would hit 7’6” in no time. “Holy… wow,” he said. “That was definitely something.” “Took the words right out of my mouth.” “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so hot in my life. It was like I wasn’t me. I even let you get a little slice of my sexy-ass pie, if y’know-what-i’m-sayin’.” “You did say that you’d let me worship you if you were drunk.” He looked down at me and smiled. “Did I really say ‘worship’? That’s a new one.” I looked at the clock and saw it was quarter to seven in the evening. Based on what I read in the brochure, the buffet would be ready by seven. “Hey, so, I think we should get ready to go to the buffet. It’s nearly open.” He smacked a hand onto my head and playfully messed up my hair. “Yeah, we better go take a good shower or two. This entire room smells like it could use a shower too.” “...We’ll handle the room later.” “Sure, thing, Dor’,” he said, walking over to the dresser and pulling out a necklace. “See you there?” He put the necklace on, somehow managing to make it fit around his neck, which was thicker than his own head. I thought I recognized it, so I walked up to him and inspected it discreetly, affirming my own suspicion. It was Wes’ necklace, the one with the meteor shard that we used to keep him sane. “Uh, nice necklace, Marcus.” His face gleamed with joy. “Thanks! I think it makes me look pretty good, right?” “Yeah. Where’d you get it?” “Oh, I just found it lying around on the beach earlier. Thought it looked nice, so I took it.” “You’ve never seen it before?” He shook his head. “No, why? Should I have? I’ve never seen it anywhere else. And I would know since I love lookin’ good.” “Huh… okay. Yeah, I’ll see you at dinner. Wear some clothes please?” He laughed. “I’ll try! But don’t get mad if I come in just a toga made of towels. I did just kinda outgrow literally everything I brought in less than an hour.” We separated and headed to the showers. As I let the cold water wash over me, in the silence of the night, my head was louder than it ever had been before. Just what was the necklace going to do to Marcus? How did Wes lose his necklace on the beach? Just what exactly was waiting for me at dinner? Little did I know, as if everything wasn’t insane enough, it was about to get so much worse. And worst of all—I forgot what I came to the spa for in the first place.
  4. 28 points
    Friday night is finally here. Finally, you can sleep until noon and not have a care in the world. After an exhausting and less-than-great week, this is just what you need, you tell yourself as you enter your bedroom. With a sigh, you take off your jeans and your t-shirt. Your whole body is sweaty from the soccer match earlier that day, so it feels good to remove the sticky clothing. The worst part is your underwear, which is clinging uncomfortably to its contents. As you remove the briefs, the sensation of the fabric sliding slickly over your dick makes you hard as you head to the shower. As you wash yourself, you remember how badly you lost that soccer match. A huge and muscular guy from the other team had shoved aside your little body with less than a swipe of his hand. It was an embarrassing defeat, and you keep telling yourself that you would’ve won if you were bigger and stronger. “It’s not fair,” you say to yourself as you rub soap all over your slim, skinny body. “It’s just not fair that he can have these huge muscles and I can’t.” As you picture his bulging meaty body contained within his stretched-to-the-limit soccer outfit, you begin to feel horny, grabbing your dick and stroking it as the hot shower water runs down your body. You imagine feeling his chest and pulling down his shorts to reveal his thick long— “FUCK!” you moan, jerking off harder and harder. You hold the shower wall with your free hand to steady yourself as you feel your load about to shoot. If only you could be like him, you think, if only your body was as muscular and sexy as his. You’re so close... “I wish I was huge!” you blurt out the split-second that cum spurts from your dick. Nothing happens. The cum goes down the shower drain, and you stand there feeling silly for a few minutes before deciding to dry off. With another sigh, you put on your white undershirt and a different pair of underwear, blue Calvin Klein boxer briefs. You lay down on your bed with a sense of hopelessness. You would never be anything but a weak, scrawny guy, you tell yourself. Not like that huge guy. He would be slobbered on by girls and boys alike, and would probably become a famous model. You, on the other hand— “Ohh...” Suddenly, you feel a strange tingle in your stomach. Was it something you ate? No, this wasn’t a stomachache, it was different. It was like a pulling and expanding sensation, that increased in intensity every few seconds. Lifting up your undershirt, you notice your flat stomach begin to push out into a perfectly shredded eight-pack. “Ohhh fuck...” you moan as you glide your hand over the rock-hard bumps of your new washboard abs. Overcome with excitement, you run into the bathroom to watch your transformation in the mirror. Then, the stretching sensation begins to itch up into your chest, which slowly fills out your undershirt with huge bouncy pecs and hard, perky nipples. Your full new pecs stretch your undershirt to the limit, but they aren’t done. With a pop, your huge round chest bursts through the seams of your shirt, sending a large rip down the middle of it. Your torso starts to expand, your shoulders broadening as v-lines form at your tight waist. You can feel powerful waves of muscle building on your back, ripping the rest of your undershirt off your body. You turn to see your lats exploding in the mirror, feeling hundreds of muscles flexing as you pivot. Then, as you struggle to see your own feet past the mountains of your pecs, the expansion spreads to your legs, which begin to thicken and burst with layers of leathery muscle. Your legs’ growth in size is matched by their growth in length, as over a foot and a half are added to your height. “Yessss...” you groan as the growth reaches your arms, slowly transforming them into veiny tree trunks. As you flex your biceps, they balloon to the size of bowling balls, sending intense shudders of pleasure through your body. Admiring your new bodybuilder physique in the mirror, you watch with excitement as your ass bulges in your blue briefs, bubbling snugly against the soft fabric. Flexing, you cause your ass to grow and push further against the elastic. “Ohhh fuck yeah...” you moan as you become aware of a throbbing feeling in your crotch. It feels like your dick is growing, but somehow it’s still soft. Pleasure rolls over you as you feel your cock thicken with each throb, your balls soon following, swelling to the size of oranges. You watch as your no-longer average-sized member fills up your briefs, bulging and bulging against the blue underwear until the python cock is thicker than your wrist. The endurance of the briefs are being tested as the full force of your wedding-cake ass and your pulsing horse cock cause rips to appear in the elastic. But hung like a stallion still isn’t enough, and your giant package continues to grow, tearing your briefs clean off your toned waist with a loud ripping sound. As your massive meat flops forth and slaps against your knees wetly, you pick up the monster cock in both hands and begin to stroke it. The already gigantic beast swells into an enormous boner, pinning you against the wall. Its constant drip of precum floods the bathroom and lubricates itself, bringing you closer to the brink of cumming. ”FUUUUCKKKKK!!!!!” you howl as your elephant cock drenches the entire room with sticky white cum. Exhausted by the sheer amount of energy from jerking off your mega-cock, you fall asleep in the bathroom, covered by your own juicy cum— but not before you realize that you will never lose another soccer match again.
  5. 27 points
    Chapter 6 Mo and I arrived at the coffee shop, but I hesitated in front of the door. I came here practically every day, and I didn’t want the staff to think I was a freak or a liar or crazy. Stealing myself for the task at hand, I opened the door and went in. The coffee shop was rather empty for lunchtime. I was never a fan of chain coffee shops, so I went to a trendy, hipster-adjacent coffee shop where they likely overcharged me, but the place had charm and atmosphere. Granted, with tables made from driftwood and an open mic night every other Thursday, the charm came with a heaping helping of hoke, but at least it was distinct. It didn’t hurt that my usual barista was adorable. Instead of my normal guy, though, there was a short woman with frizzy hair behind the register. Her nametag said Rachel. “Can I help you?” she asked in a genuinely friendly tone. Just loud enough that only I could hear it, Mo said, “Tell me she’s not the cute barista.” “Where’s the usual guy?” I asked. “Usual guy?” I searched my memory. I’d seen him a million times. Everyone wore nametags. It was right above his nipple. I’d stared at it his chest a thousand times. “Oliver!” I said, triumphant. Without missing a beat, Rachel turned around and said, “Oliver! You’ve got a customer.” As Rachel walked away from the counter, a hunky early-20-something strutted toward the register. He clearly lifted weights in his off hours. His black work pants hugged his thighs. His orange uniform shirt was just a little too tight for his build. His blond hair was short, but long enough that I could tell that it was curly. His green eyes and white teeth sparkled against his tan skin. “This dreamboat is your barista?” Mo asked. “Bravo, Eenie.” When Oliver saw me, his whole face brightened into a smile. “I missed you this morning!” I blushed a little. “He’s just doing it for tips,” Mo said. “I know, but it doesn’t make it less effective,” I responded under my breath. Louder, I said, “Good afternoon, Oliver.” “Is this the husband?” he said, pointing at Mo. Mo cut me off. “No. I’m the younger brother. The younger, unmarried brother.” “Shoulda guessed. You look so much alike.” “Speaking of that,” I said, taking the in, “I have a question that’s going to sound ridiculous, but I have to ask it.” “Shoot.” “Do I look bigger than I did yesterday?” “Why would that be ridiculous? You’ve been lifting hard for months.” “No, but I mean, do I look significantly bigger than last night?” “Yeah. It’s obvious. Is it some killer pump? Some new clothes?” “Something like that,” I lied. “Yeah, before you came in, Rachel and I were talking about it. We played rock, paper, scissors to see who would get to serve you.” “She has to know I’m gay. Whenever you flirt too hard, I bring up my husband and point to my wedding ring.” Oliver shrugged. “She knows you’re a big tipper.” Mo was still unconvinced. “You’d say anything to keep those tips coming.” “Don’t believe me?” Oliver turned to the back and shouted, “Rachel, what were we talking about right before these two dudes walked in?” Rachel came back out and said, “Which part? How jacked big tipper looked? How he looked bigger than yesterday? Whether the guy with him was his husband?” Oliver turned to Mo and said, “Do you need more than that?” “I’m good,” Mo said. Before Rachel left, he added, “I’m not the husband, but I’m also gay.” Getting my attention back, Oliver asked, “Did you guys want some coffee, or was this a weird survey about how big you look?” “I’ll get my usual to go. Mo, you want anything?” “Nothing that’s on the menu,” he said, eyeing Oliver up and down. While Oliver was making my coffee, I turned to Mo and asked, “This means only people at work can’t see me change, then. Right?” Mo nodded. “It does suggest that, yes. I still need more info, but that is a crucial detail.” “Here you go,” Oliver said, interrupting us. He handed me the cup, and I slipped a ten in the tip jar. Mo and I were about to leave, when Oliver cleared his throat. I turned around, and Oliver asked, “Can I ask something weird?” “Why not?” I said. “Fair’s fair.” “Can I feel your bicep? It’s just so tempting. I’ve wanted to feel it since my first day here, but I never had the guts to ask.” Mo smiled lasciviously, and I shrugged. “So long as you know it doesn’t go past a friendly squeeze.” “Of course. Of course,” Oliver agreed. I rolled up my left sleeve and flexed hard for him. I was still adjusting to its size myself, but I was delighted to see the surprise and glee in Oliver’s face. Tentatively, he reached out and felt the top of my peak. His hand was warm and smooth, and as soon as he made contact with my muscle, I felt a charge inside me. With my free right hand, I grabbed him from my left arm and led him away. I felt overtaken, possessed, out of control. Oliver staggered behind me, and I sped to the employee lounge in the back. In dreamlike logic, I don’t remember opening or closing the door, just being in the lounge. It was meagerly appointed: a grey carpet, a ratty couch, and a table barely the size of a TV tray. Oliver locked the door behind us and took off his shirt. “I was hoping this would happen,” he whispered. His torso was an inspiration of youthful beauty. Smooth and hairless, tanned and taut, broad at the chest and shoulders, narrow and lithe at the waist. “Your turn, stud,” he said. Before my better judgment could stop me, I was completely naked, as if it took no time whatsoever. Oliver came in for a kiss, overzealous and forceful. Taller than him, older than him, stronger than him, bigger than him, I felt a power deep within me. As his hands explored my back and shoulders, mine were unbuckling his belt and sliding down his boxers and pants. They gathered at his mid-thigh, stuck on his meaty legs. His cock, a thick, uncircumcised 5 inches, bobbed in eager expectation. Grabbing a handful of his blond locks in my right fist, I forcefully turned him around with my left, and pushed him until he was bent over the arm of the couch, his round, perky ass presented to my waiting cock. And oh, his ass. His ass was a gorgeous treasure to be prized. As tan as the rest of him, it was firm and soft and welcoming, the left cheek adorned with a brazen Eye of Horus tattoo. My cock was leaking such copious pre, that with little preamble, I drove myself deep inside him. Oliver made of sound on the verge of pain and pleasure. Once I reached his full depths, he grunted, “Fuck me hard.” I tightened my grip on his hair, pulling his head up, and began ramming away. This was not love-making, or sex, or even fucking. This was animalistic rutting. Oliver squealed for me, and I pistoned back and forth with force I could have never managed before my newly added musculature. A new sound filled the room: a leonine growl. As I drilled the young barista, inhuman sound was coming from deep within me. Oliver drew closer and closer to orgasm. I could feel my own cock vibrate in anticipation. The instant, the split-second, before I came, there was a nearly imperceptible shift. I was back out front of the coffee shop. Oliver and I were fully dressed, and his hand was still on my bicep. Like a fog clearing in the late morning sun, my mind unclouded, and I realized that none of the events in the lounge had actually happened. I backed away from Oliver, pulling my arm away from his arm. “Sorry,” he said. “Did I do something wrong?” Mo chuckled and pointed to my crotch. I had a very obvious, very urgent, very ready to burst erection. “You did everything right,” Mo reassured him. My breath was ragged as if I had just been having intense employee-lounge-sex. But I had to make sense of this. “Sorry,” I said to Oliver. “Some more weird questions.” “Shoot,” Oliver said. “Do you have a tattoo? Eye of Horus. On your ass?” Oliver patted the top of his left butt cheek. “Guilty as charged.” “And if I were to drag you into the employee lounge…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question. Oliver leaned in and lowered his voice. “That would be a living wet dream.” His green eyes lit up with intrigue. He looked around to make sure none of his coworkers were eavesdropping. “I’d never tell your husband.” I bolted out of the coffee shop and halfway down the block. I leaned against the side of a building to breathe deep, will my hardon away, and gather my thoughts. Mo caught up with me after a few seconds. “How’d you know about that tattoo? You stalking him on Instagram or something?” I looked Mo dead in the eyes. “I know another part of the spell.”
  6. 26 points
    Chapter 2 The phone call with Oz ran later than I expected; I didn’t even have time to stop by my favorite coffee shop and flirt with the cute barista. But flirting with Oz was more important than the barista and, honestly, my job. My job was nothing special, not like Oz’s. I’m middle management at C&G Industries. We’re one of those faceless companies that makes a little bit of everything and has fingers in a dozen different pies. Just our one branch takes up a ten-story building in Boston. I worked on the eighth floor with the other mid-level managers, my official title “Marketing Liaison Manager.” I’d been promoted to it almost ten years ago, and I was still trying to figure out just exactly what I did. My job was basically taskmaster. I made sure the women in research and development actually worked on projects people would buy, I made sure the artists got their work done by the necessary deadlines, I made sure the commercial people didn’t exaggerate to the point of legal liability. Most importantly, I kept everyone on budget. When I stepped off the elevator to the eighth floor, rather than everyone in their individual offices, the entire floor was congregating in the larger conference room. “What’s going on?” I asked a nervous-looking woman carrying a stack of paper. “Mr. Carr is here,” she said. “Mr. Calvin Carr?” I clarified. Her eyes grew wider, panic-filled, and she nodded. “What the hell is he doing here?” I continued. Without another word, she shook her head and scurried off to the conference room. Mr. Carr was the C in C&G Industries. Two unexpected guests in one morning. I crammed myself into the back of the meeting room. After a minute of nervous muttering, the inhabitants of the room grew quiet, and Mr. Carr stepped in. Mr. Carr was far younger than I thought he was. In fact, he was hot. Mr. Carr pushed all my buttons. He couldn’t be more than 55, and he was broad and sturdy, the sort of man you wouldn’t want to get into a fight with. He had shockingly red hair—no grays, no balding. The most noteworthy feature was how wide he was; he looked extremely wide, even for a man of 6 feet in height. However, that may have been an optical illusion caused by his choice of wardrobe. He didn’t wear a suit jacket, but his dress shirt accentuated his already broad shoulders, and his tie was so narrow that it made him look even wider. As Mr. Carr sat down, there was a small puddle of random applause, but he held up his hands to stop it. “I gathered all the managers together to prevent widespread panic. I know when the big boss comes in, people think the sky is falling, but nothing could be further from the truth. I’m just here to pitch in while Hugo is recovering.” Hugo, or Mr. Tyler as I usually called him, was the head of this branch of C&G. He’d been a little sick recently, but nothing so serious as to need to bring in Mr. Carr. “The bad cold he’s been tangling with turned out to be pneumonia,” he pronounced it “new-monia,” “and he’ll be out of commission for a few weeks. I was in town on personal business, so his wife asked me to step in. This way, he’d actually get some R & R. I’ll be using his office until he gets back, so if there is anything you’d normally run past Hugo, run it by me. Today, I’ll be behind the eight ball, but I’ll be caught up by Monday.” A sound of ease went through the conference room. “Now,” Mr. Carr said, “back to work.” With that, he clapped his hands, and the room cleared out. I booked it: down a flight of stairs, through the maze of cubicles, to find Alexander. He always heard these rumors before I did. If I knew him as well as I thought… “Who’s getting fired?” Alexander said, gripping my shirt in his hands. “I love this job! Don’t fire me, please!” Alexander and I had been friends since college, initially bonding over being the only two out gay guys in our dorm. We were night and day, but that’s how our friendship worked. He was pale, fair-haired and blue-eyed, short and petite, whereas I had darker features, was tall and broad. He was demure and easily panicked, I spoke up in a crowd and kept my head in a crisis. He majored in art, I in business. He came from wealth and had a trust fund; I grew up in a two-bedroom apartment in Dorchester, forced to share with Mo. Alexander and I needed each other to even out our extremes. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to care that I was technically his boss. I pulled his hands off my shirt and calmed him down with gentle hushes. “No one’s getting fired.” I smoothed my shirt, and Alexander retreated to his desk and collapsed. After a moment, he was all nerves and tense again. “Then why are you here?” I raised my hands into a submissive position. “I knew you’d be freaking out. I came to reassure you.” Alexander relaxed again, leaned in close, and said, “You should have heard Karen from finance tell the story this morning. It sounded like the sky was falling. Can’t blame me for falling for it.” His cubicle mate scoffed. “Good morning, Garrett,” I said, turning to look him in the eye. Garrett didn’t count it as a greeting unless you made eye contact. “Came to coddle your precious Alexander without the slightest thought for me?” With his flair for the melodramatic, Garrett could easily pass for gay. But he was straight, and married with kids. His clothing choices didn’t help the misconception either. He had an impeccable fashion sense. His tie always complemented his belt and shirt, his shoes were always highly polished, and he frequently wore French cuffs. If I were to describe the outfit he was wearing that Friday morning, I’d say it was a yellow shirt, blue tie, and brown pants, but I’d had enough conversations with Garrett to know he’d be more specific. He’d say his dress shirt was pale buttercream, his tie powder blue, his pants chocolate. What straight guy describes his clothes like food? Garrett—that’s who. He worked in the art department; that’s probably why he had such a highly developed sense of color. Garrett was a great employee, and I honestly had no problem with him. However, unlike Alexander, Garrett couldn’t stand that I was his boss. His favorite hobby was undermining my decisions. “If no one’s fired, then you’re not fired. Besides, were you even worried?” Garrett stood up and walked over to me. He was the same height as me, so he couldn’t look down on me or intimidate me, but every now and then he tried. We’d been hired at the roughly the same time, but a year later, we both went up for the same promotion, and I got it, becoming his manager. All these years later, he still had his entry-level job. When I was first promoted over him, he couldn’t stand it, and tried to get buffer than me to outdo me in at least one way. He hit the iron, and so did I. For a year, we were in a stupid pissing contest over who had the bigger muscles. Then, his first child was born. Suddenly, all he could talk about was his son. When his son was born, he gave up the ghost and stopped lifting weights. Now he had three kids. He was still impressive, even if his muscles had somewhat softened and his stomach had slightly filled out, giving him a quintessential dad bod. He’s the kind of guy who was used to intimidating people. I remained unmoved. “Calm down, Garrett, I came to see you, too.” Garrett squared his shoulders and took a step back. “Oh?” “My brother’s visiting. He’s in town a day early, and I planned on taking a half day.” “And you came to rub your unscrupulous abuse of authority in my face?” “I came to put you in charge if there’s an emergency.” He clearly didn’t expect that. “Well, then. I guess I can turn a blind eye if you’re putting someone competent in charge.” “As long as we’re on the same page,” I said. I turned to go back upstairs into my office, when my phone buzzed. “I bet it’s Oz,” Alexander said, a dopey grin on his face. He’d been raised by a thrice-divorced father, and he’d never kept a boyfriend for longer than a month. My marriage to Oz was his big hope that love still existed. “I bet you’re right,” I said, pulling out my phone. The text, from Oz, said, “Vinnie strong-armed me into having a birthday party with some old friends. On the 11th at noon.” That was the day after he got back. Oz absolutely hated birthday parties. It’s why I hadn’t planned on throwing him one. I’d never met Vinnie, but Oz had talked about him enough—they’d been really close in college (they’d either dated or hooked up, I wasn’t entirely sure which), and although they kept in touch online and swapped the occasional text, they barely saw each other in person. Thank to the internet, they were still really close. I responded with, “Are you excited to see Vinnie?”, and he sent back a one-word response: “Kinda?” Oz really didn’t want to make a public spectacle out of the big five-oh. “How did he get you to say yes? Does he have compromising photos?” Oz’s response started with an emoji sticking out its tongue at me. “I threw him a huge party when he turned 50. He calls it the best night of his life. He insists on returning the favor.” I shot back a quick text. “Want me to play the bad guy? Get you out of it? I can throw a tantrum, break a limb, or fake a pregnancy.” Oz sent back a gif of Michael Scott from The Office shaking his head, so I replied, “Shouldn’t you be napping, mister?” He texted back a snoring emoji, and I put my phone away. I guess I’d been making a moony face while texting because Alexander was staring at me raptly and Garrett looked disgusted. “Did you have to slobber all over your husband here?” Garrett asked. “If my husband were actually here I’d do more than slobber him,” I said, vaguely hoping it’d either shut Garrett up or make him uncomfortable. With that, I patted the top of their cubicle and said, “I’m leaving at noon. If you have any questions before then, I’ll be in my office.” With that, I went to leave, but something felt wrong. It almost felt like my phone was buzzing again, but all over my body. It wasn’t unpleasant. The closest sensation I’d ever felt like it was my leg falling asleep, but even that fell short of the sensation. At the same time that I felt the buzzing, I felt some other sensations I couldn’t explain. To put it shortly, it felt like my clothes were shrinking. My work clothes had been a little snug at the shoulders and chest because of my recent muscle gains, but suddenly, the shirt felt far too small. The seams of the shoulders were cutting into my skin, and the buttons, especially the ones at my neck and the middle of my chest, felt constricting. Even my sleeves felt as though they were gripping my arms too tightly. The seat of my pants felt way too snug. I wasn’t bursting out of my pants, but it did feel as though it might tear if I moved too quickly. As if that wasn’t enough, the front of my pants were equally tight. My balls felt slightly confined, and it almost seemed like my cock had a semi. Oddest of all, my belt felt loose. The buzzing was over almost as quickly as it began. I looked down and saw that my clothes had not shrunk. I was physically bigger than I’d been just two seconds ago. Incapable of saying anything, I looked at Alexander and Garrett, my eyes begging for an explanation. “Did you want something else?” Garrett said. I didn’t know how to ask without sounding crazy, so I just asked, “Do I look different?” “Different how?” Alexander asked. “Different,” I repeated. “Your workouts have been paying off, if that’s what you mean,” Alexander tried. Garrett just groaned. “No, I mean…” There was no way out of it, so I bit the bullet. “Did I just get bigger? All at once?” Alexander laughed, grabbing a colored pencil from his desk. “Very funny.” I looked over to Garrett. He glowered at me, his face telling me the question was contemptuously stupid. People don’t just spontaneously get bigger. Without even a goodbye, I ran to the bathroom, the whole time terrified that my pants were going to tear right off me as I moved through the office. When I got into the men’s room, I made sure it was empty, checking under all the doors of the toilet stalls. Secure that I was alone, I wedged the garbage can in front of the door so no one could come in, and looked in the mirror. I looked buff. Not just six months of working out buff. I looked buffer than this morning. So much for my ordinary Friday.
  7. 25 points
    PART 8c By the time I finished showering, the sun had already set, letting the moon’s pale light cast a magical glow all across the resort. It was entirely silent when I left. All I could hear were the gentle sounds of ocean waves crashing into the shore. Somehow Marcus left the shower before I did because not a sound nor soul was there but me. I must’ve lost track of time. I headed back to the beach house and got dressed: shorts, shirt, sandals—the usual. The mess Froy and I made that morning was out of sight, and so thankfully, out of mind. It seemed he’d cleaned it all up himself. Not even a professional housekeeper would’ve gotten anywhere near as spotless as Froy did. Everything was where it needed to be, and Froy’s and my things were arranged according to owner, name, color, and size. I reminded myself to ask him about what other messes he could clean up. He was a real whiz, he was. I checked the other rooms and both Wes and Marcus were nowhere to be found—which only meant that they were both already at or headed to the buffet. It was eight in the evening when I finished freshening up, an hour past dinner time. I wondered what I missed. If I missed anything at all. As I was walking, I caught up with Avery. He was fully clothed and—considering it was a resort—totally overdressed. His sleek black hair was ungroomed and hung over his eyes like a helmet. He was adorable in his naiveté, much like Froy. In fact, I almost forgot how old Froy actually was! 20, not 15. I patted him on the shoulder and caught up next to him. Thankfully, he wasn’t going very fast. I was already so used to jogging from following Froy and Marcus around. “Hey! What are you doing out here? Thought you’d be at the buffet with your dad or Lisa,” I said. He hecked. “Well… uh, I decided to take a walk around. My dad somehow grew again, and now he's got this pasty white twink wrapped around his finger.” I forgot Wes was married. “Ah, well, nothing to worry about. He’s just an old college friend of his.” I did my best to hide any possibility of cheating, but judging by the way he looked at me—which is not at all—I could tell he wasn’t buying it. “I’m not buying it,” he said. “And, uh… you don’t have to lie. I know about him.” “What? How?” “My real mother told me before she left. She told me a lot of things.” He sighed. “But nothing about growth spurts and shrinking.” “I can’t believe your dad hasn’t told you anything. You of all people deserve to know.” “I wish.” “Well, hey, maybe someday he’ll tell you.” He smiled. For the first time that night, he smiled. “I doubt it. But thanks for believing in him.” We got to the restaurant around half past eight in the evening. I didn’t get a chance to visit it in the daytime, so I didn’t get to see it at all beforehand. Much like the rest of the resort, it was luxuriously decked out in marble and mahogany. It came in three parts: a bar, a patio, and the main area. The entire thing looked like it could house about 400 people, but our department made it look like a ghost town. Avery brought me to his dad who was sitting out on the patio, surrounded by his own miniature buffet. Sammy kept his word and made sure Wes didn’t ingest any more spunk, thankfully. I could only imagine the willpower it took him not to make Wes grow even more than he already had. I doubt he would’ve fit into the muscle shirt he was packed into otherwise. Fortunately, he wasn’t so big that the patio chairs couldn’t handle him and his immensity. He was a real south-east Asian bear with all his muscles and faint traces of unshaven body hair. Avery sat down at his side, making sure to avoid looking at him. Next to his dad, the poor kid looked downright anemic. Even more so Sammy who was sitting on Wes’ lap. His curly ginger hair was brushed aside, groomed to the nines, as was his button down and shorts. He looked as cheeky as ever, seated on his biggest crush yet—literally. “Well, hello there, Dorian. Nice to see you could join the party!” Sammy said, sipping his cocktail. Wes chuckled and smirked. “It’s more like a funeral.” Sammy limply slapped Wes’ thick shoulder to no effect. “Oh, shut your self. It was a funeral, but now Dorian’s here, so we can get the party started for real!” I shook my head. “So how are you feeling, Wes? Any… strange feelings? Or urges?” Wes also shook his head. “Right now? Besides my stomach threatening to eat itself, no, why?” Sammy followed and shook his own head—the other one. He adjusted his crotch. “Oh, you know why.” Wes’ eyes bugged out. “Not in front of my son,” he mumbled. “It’s fine, dad,” Avery said. “No, it’s not! You’re too young to… know these things.” Avery sighed. Sammy rolled his eyes. “Anyway, how’d the rest of your day go, Dorian?” Another sip. “Uh, pretty good, I guess. I got to see the pool with Avery here.” Then he looked at me strangely, with an eyebrow raised and his eyes staring into my soul. “Is that all?” “Uh…” “Yes?” “I also, um, went to the spa.” “And what exactly did you do at my spa if you don’t mind me asking?” “Well, I, uh, booked an appointment, then I walked around a bit—fine architecture by the way—before I actually got my massage. And that artisanal oil? Wow, it did marvels for my back and—“ Then Sammy threw his arms up in a fit. “Jesus Christ, get to the point! What the hell did you do to my masseuses, and why are they all now suddenly filing for emergency leaves?!” “Whoa, Sammy, relax. I’m sure Dory’s got a good answer like he always does,” Wes said. “Ah, I think you’d better ask Marcus, not me,” I said. “He could probably paint you a better picture.” Sammy groaned in his seat, throwing a bit of a temper tantrum. “Ugh, but you’re already here! Just tell me. Tell your good friend Sammy what the fuck you did in my spa.” I did my best to delay my response with exaggerated ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’. But the more time I wasted, the angrier Sammy seemed to get. He was so pale, in fact, that his blood looked as though it was literally boiling under his skin. Wes sighed. “Come on, Dory. Just tell Sammy what you and Marcus did.” Then out of nowhere, a loud bellowing voice rang out. “Did someone say my name?” I turned around and saw an enormous mountain of muscle and flesh walk around the corner of the restaurant. It could only have been Marcus because he was downright titanic. I don’t even know how he managed to move his body around at all. If he grew anymore, there was no doubt he would’ve become immobile. In fact, I’m not even sure how he managed to wrap a bedsheet around himself like a toga considering it looked impossible for his engorged limbs to have been able to bend more than 45 degrees. And on his neck, the same necklace. He walked up to the rest of us and waved a large hand, beaming a smile. “‘Sup!” Sammy was shit-frozen, staring googly-eyed at the blonde god before him, completely forgetting he was sitting on Wes—who, by the way, was completely oblivious to the unnaturality of Marcus’ size. Little Avery just rolled his eyes and groaned. “Oh, my god, he grew again,” Avery muttered, annoyed. He stood behind me, looming over me like a parent to their child. “What’re you guys up to?” His eyes darted to the assortment of food laid out for Wes. “And why does Wes get to have his own mini-buffet?” Wes grabbed another plate of steak off the cart. “Because I’m hungry, that’s why. Is that even a real question?” Sammy was tongue-tied, stuttering left and right like a machine gun. “Did—does—duh—he… does he look bigger to anyone? I swear he wasn’t this big when I saw him on the cameras this morning.” He chuckled nervously. As if by instinct, Marcus raised his arms into a power double bicep pose—his favorite move, it seemed. With a cocky grin and hearty sigh, he nodded. “Yup.” “Nope,” Wes said, munching down on his steak. “So do you, uh, mind telling us exactly what happened in the spa? What did you do to my employees?” Sammy asked, sweating. Marcus lowered his arms. “Nothing without their consent.” He walked over to the others after patting me on the back and wrapped his arms around Sammy and Wes, enveloping them in his mass. “So what’s for dinner?” Sammy couldn’t speak. He could barely utter a word. Not just because Marcus intimidated the ever-living shit out of him, but because his mouth was literally getting crushed by Marcus’ forearm. Meanwhile, Wes only continued chowing down on his dinner, totally unbothered. Avery just watched from the sidelines, enjoying his chicken drumstick in silence. “Everything. It’s a buffet,” I said. Then he chuckled. “You say that as if they’ll never run out of food,” Marcus said. “What, you’re gonna try eating out the entire resort?” I asked. “Wanna bet on it?” I could hear Sammy struggling to speak as he violently and quite tellingly shook his head in what I assumed was disapproval. But he still couldn’t pry off Marcus’ arm with his puny fingers. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve guessed that there was as much muscle in Marcus’ arm as there was in Sammy’s whole body. So just to spite him, I agreed. “Sure. And Wes can join too. Just to give you a fighting chance.” Wes gave a hearty laugh. “Please, you say that as if I wouldn’t eat this place out without his help!” His mouth still full, chewed up food was spilling out as he spoke. “Aw, dad, gross,” Avery groaned. Sammy’s groaning only grew louder. We didn’t really care though. “You play a mean game! Fine. If I win, uh, you strip naked in the office during work hours when we get back on Thursday,” Marcus said. “And if I win?” Marcus thought about it for a second. Then he gave me an answer I never expected to hear out of him. “I’ll let you blow me again. Sober this time.” Gotta admit, I was aroused. “Deal.” An incredible grin stretched along his handsome face. “Deal!” Then he released Sammy, letting him lean against the table as he caught his breath in exasperation. The poor twink looked like he was going to faint from all the coughing. “Whoa, hey, you alright?” Marcus asked. “Bitch, do I look alright to you?!” Sammy yelled, swatting Marcus’ hand away. “Sorry, guess I didn’t notice. My bad.” Sammy yelled. “And no way in hell am I letting you eat out my entire supply of food! Are you insane?! Do you have any idea how much a single kilogram of meat costs?” Marcus turned to me and gave a look of exasperation. “I kinda liked him more when he was quiet.” “Nothing we can do about that,” I said. “So why are you two talking as if I’m not here?” Sammy asked. “Jeez! Stop the goddamn fighting and let me eat in peace!” Wes exclaimed. We all stopped bickering and settled down in our seats. Except Marcus, of course. He carried over a nearby boulder instead. No doubt he would’ve obliterated any chair he sat his big ass on. While Wes and Sammy continued to eat, Marcus and Avery headed inside the main hall for more food. I stayed outside on the patio with Wes and Sammy. I hadn’t seen Froy or Lisa all night up to that point, so I was starting to wonder where the hell they went off to since I didn’t see them in the main hall. It’s kind of impossible to miss a 6’5” tall teen, after all. As I was drifting in my thoughts, I noticed Wes was sitting back in his seat, staring at me with knowing eyes as he chewed whatever was in his mouth. Then he swallowed in a loud gulp. His entire plate and cart of food had been emptied, and his gut had bloated from all the food, pushing his abs outward. Sammy grabbed a tissue and wiped his mouth clean. “So how was the food? Seemed like you liked it considering you ate roughly $6,000 worth in one go.” I was in shock. “How much?!” I’d never seen a meal so expensive before. “It’s not much, really. But still.” Then Wes opened his mouth. “I liked Marcus’ little necklace. Did you see it, Dory?” he asked. “Yeah, I wanted to ask you about it.” Sammy looked puzzled. “What’s this about? Oh, wait, is it that necklace you were looking for earlier? The one wrapped around your employee’s neck?” “Keep it a secret, okay?” I said. “He doesn’t know it was Wes’ and he doesn’t know what it does. Actually, I don’t think even I know what it does. But as long as he’s not growing, we can’t let him know about it.” Wes burped loudly. “But how am I supposed to know you’re telling the truth? All I can think about is how you’ve been lying to me all day about how much bigger I am,” he said. “Are you suggesting we keep him this way?” Sammy asked me. “Okay, let’s not argue about this again. Agree to disagree,” Wes said. “Fine,” I said. “But when we get back, the first thing I’m doing is making you a new necklace. Anyway, have either of you seen Lisa or Froy anywhere?” They shook their heads. “You haven’t seen Froy?” Wes asked. “You lost your intern?” “Yeah, I thought I was going to find him here, but from where we are, I don’t see him anywhere outside or in the main hall,” I said. Sammy tapped his finger on the table. “But have you checked the bar?” It was then I realized I’d forgotten to check the bar. I knew Lisa and Froy were drinking all afternoon, so how could I have been so stupid. And man, if Marcus getting drunk was any indication of what the meteor would do, I had to make sure Froy was okay before he did something he’d regret. “Shit, you’re right.” I leapt off my seat. “I’ll be right back. Where’s the bar again?” Sammy pointed at the other end of the restaurant’s main hall, to a door next to the buffet table where Marcus and Avery were. “Through there, you can’t miss it.” “Thanks!” Then Wes also stood up. “Wait, I’ll come with you.” “Oh, you wanna check up on Froy too?” “Hell, no. I want more food!” Of course, he did. Together, the two of us headed into the main hall. There weren’t many people, but there were enough standing up for whatever fucking reason that it became hard to maneuvre through the seemingly endless flurry of people. Thankfully, Wes’ new body demanded so much space that he was parting the crowd with every step as if it were the Red Sea. When we got to the buffet table, I caught up with Marcus and Avery. The striking difference in how much food they had on their trays was laughable. Meanwhile, Wes left to join the line with everyone else. “Hey, have either of you been to the bar yet?” I asked. Marcus and Avery shook their heads. “No, why?” Marcus asked. “Haven’t you had enough alcohol for today?” “I have, but I don’t think your girlfriend and my intern have.” As soon as I uttered those words, Marcus’ joyful expression soured into one of worry. “Lisa? What, has she been drinking again?” “Oh, yeah. That’s what I came to the spa to tell you. Now, I remember. We had a whole bunch of drinks at the pool earlier, and now I think she’s in the bar with Froy. I haven’t seen them all night, so I got worried.” I could see Marcus trying to contain something in his chest. Then he let out an ear-shattering groan. “Fuck! I told her to lay off the alcohol. Why won’t she listen to me?” “You don’t want her drinking?” “Fuck no! She’s been an alcoholic since I met her. I’ve been trying to help her break her fucking addiction. God damn it.” In an instant, he turned to face Avery, and, without warning, dumped his entire tray of food on the young boy to carry. As expected, Avery nearly collapsed onto the ground from the sheer amount of weight in his skinny arms. It was a good thing Wes rushed over to help his son before he got hurt. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing, Marcus?! My son can’t hold all your food!” Wes yelled. “Hng… Yes, I can—ugh—dad!” Avery cried. Without responding, Marcus grabbed my wrist in a vice-like grip and dragged me towards the bar. There was an anger in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen from him in years. It scared me almost. “Come on, Dory, let’s go find them,” he said. His ridiculous lunge-like steps caught me by surprise. I nearly fell to the floor from how fast he was moving, and I wouldn’t have been shocked if he didn’t notice he was dragging me. Thankfully, I caught myself in time, but at that point, we were already at the door. All that was left to do was slide it open. In no time at all, Marcus grabbed it and slammed it into the wall with such aggression that the entire restaurant suddenly had all eyes on us. While he didn’t seem to care, I did. The moment we entered the bar — which was decked out in luxurious gold and red velvet, by the way — I saw Lisa, frantic, running down the steps leading to the raised section behind the bar. She’d looked like she’d seen a ghost with nothing but fear in her eyes. She didn’t even notice us walk in until she turned around and screamed at the sight of Marcus who was literally blocking her entire view. When I smelled the vodka coming off her face, I knew she was plastered as shit. “Oh, Christ!” she said. “D’you get even bigg’rer?” Marcus bent over and grabbed her, holding her in place. She feigned a struggle but was clearly too out of it to give any effort. “Let me go-o-o!” she yelled. Wes and Avery then headed in after hearing all the commotion, closing and locking the door behind them. Avery walked up next to me and, without a word, looked at me as if to ask what was happening. And to be honest, I didn’t know how to answer. “What the hell was that scream, Marcus?!” Wes yelled. “Lisa, are you okay?! How much did you drink? Damn it, I told you not to drink too much! Lisa! Hey! Can you hear me?” Marcus said. “Marcus! What happened to Lisa?!” Wes asked. Then Avery chimed in unexpectedly. “Dad, I don’t think you need to butt in.” Wes became furious. “Just mind your own business, Avery! I don’t want to hear you talk right now, okay?! Just go sit over there and be quiet.” I could see Avery was taken aback by what he said. It didn’t seem like something he was used to. And so, he obeyed, walking over to the side and sitting on the couch in silence, his expression unbending. “Marcus…?” Lisa asked. “You gotta help me.” Wes walked up to them and joined Marcus at his side. “Hey, is she okay?” Marcus started becoming frantic. “What’s wrong? What happened? Talk to me, Lis’.” “I-i-it’s Fro-yo… I-We are drinking all afternoon, so-o-o we went here. Then, he just, kinda, blacked out on the bar back there, so I slept with ‘im. Not sex. No, not sex.” Marcus glared at me. “Then what happened? What did he do?” Lisa shook her head nauseatingly. “Nothing. I woke up a few minutes ago and saw him talking to himself or something. Naming names I never ‘eard of. Sounded really angry.” “Then what?” Wes asked. “He didn’t open his eyes yet, so I think he was-s-zzz… sleeping. Sleep… talking? But then he grabbed my arm and threw me on the floor. He got up, and I thought he was going to kill me. So I ran, and now here I am… in your big, big hands. Too big. Your too big hands.” “Froy hurt you?” I asked. I refused to believe it. “That shit. I’m gonna kill him!” Marcus cried out. Wes tried stopping him, but Marcus was pushed past Wes with ease. “Marcus, stop! He’s just a kid!” “Do I look like I give a fuck? Nobody hurts my fucking girlfriend!” Shit. Wes and I chased after him while Avery helped Lisa follow, all the way to the back of the bar where there was no one around. The jazz playing on the speakers wasn’t comforting in the slightest. Then there, in the corner of the bar, was a large shadow. It could only have been Froy, wearing a black skintight shirt with sleeves that didn’t reach his biceps. He was knocked out over the bar, sleeping in his arms. As we approached, I ran ahead of Marcus and spread my arms out. “Marcus, don’t do this!” “Get out of my way, Dory. I don’t want to hurt you.” “At least let me talk to him. He’s obviously drunk. Do you really think he would ever want to hurt Lisa?” Marcus was silent, huffing and puffing as he glared at me. It took him some time, but he eventually sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “Fucking fine. Go do your stupid HR shit. But I want an answer,” Marcus said. “Will do.” Meanwhile behind us, Wes and Avery helped Lisa sit on a nearby stool. “Nice job,” Wes said. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Wes,” Marcus said. With their approval, I approached Froy as carefully as I could. I didn’t want to wake him while he was drunk. If he hurt Lisa without so much as a second thought, I could only imagine what he would do to me if I surprised him. When I was within arm’s reach, I called out to him. “Hey, Froy? Are you okay?” I asked. “Froy?” It took a couple of tries, but by the fifth mention of his name, he started groaning. So, I kept at it, I didn’t stop calling out to him. Soon enough, he was moaning louder, until he finally — and quite groggily — raised his head. He looked around with half-shut eyes. Then, his gaze stopped on me. He wasn’t speaking, and I didn’t know what he was going to do next. “What do you want?” he mumbled. “I just came to check up on you. I didn’t know you would still be drinking. I thought you didn’t drink,” I said. “I don’t! And what’s it to you, huh? Since when’d you ever care about me, dick.” I was caught off-guard. He’d never called me that — or even said it — before. “What are you talking about, I’ve always cared about you.” I walked up closer to try and sedate him, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” I asked. Then as I tried resting a hand on his shoulder, he suddenly yelled and knocked me onto the ground with a single swing of his arm. “Fuck off, Jeremy!” he yelled. I was on the floor when he started standing from the stool. My chest was in pain, and so were my legs. His eyes were still half-shut, and his face was more bloodshot than ever. Nothing could’ve prepared me for what he did. Marcus and Wes rushed to my side. They asked if I was okay, and all I could tell them was to let me handle it. I was fine. “If he tries to hurt you again, I really will kill him,” Marcus said. “Don’t. We can’t afford a lawsuit,” Wes said. I stood back up to my feet and approached Froy. He was stumbling even while standing in place, as if his body were too heavy for his legs. He was huffing too. I didn’t know what could have prompted him to become so violent. Was it the alcohol? “What was that for?” I asked. “If you wanted some space, you could’ve just said so.” He tightened his fists as he took a deep breath. “Stop fucking telling me what to do! I’m tired of your shit!” I was confused. And why did he call me Jeremy? “What are you talking about? I’ve never hurt you!” I said. “When did I hurt you?!” Then again, he yelled. “Don’t lie to me!” With a single motion, he lifted his leg and kicked me right in the gut, sending me flying across the floor and into Marcus’ feet. He caught me and kept me safe while I was paralyzed with fear and pain. The next thing I knew, Wes was storming up to Froy, furious and spouting words I couldn’t quite hear. The ringing in my head was louder than anything else in the room. Wes was only an inch shorter than Froy, so it was hard to distinguish between them. When Wes stood in front of Froy, without a moment’s hesitation, Froy grabbed Wes’ arm, holding him in place. Then he said something I didn’t understand. I mean, I heard it—but the meaning was lost on me. “I’m not your little tyke anymore!” Then Froy crushed Wes’ arm. Wes cried out in pain, with such ear-shattering volume that I was sure it echoed throughout the restaurant. One thing after another, from where I was on the floor with Marcus, I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing. But when Wes’ shirt started loosening, I knew what was happening. It was a lot faster than it had been before with Fonz and Wes. Wes started shrinking, already powerless in his grip, while Froy’s already large body began to grow. Inch by inch, Wes was slimming back down. His once oversized muscles were dwindling. Meanwhile, Froy was expanding in all directions, his shirt tearing down his collar, and his sleeves being ripped off his shirt. He didn’t seem to be growing any taller, but his muscles were straight-up exploding from under his skin. His shirt was getting pulled apart by his ever-broadening shoulders, riding up his abs until getting snagged on his mountainous pecs. When Wes had lost a good few inches in height, Marcus dropped me. Without a moment’s hesitation, he rushed over. He broke Froy’s grip and let the shrunken Wes fall to the floor in front of me, no more than 5’11”, but still with the body of an off-season bodybuilder. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Marcus yelled. With his latest spurt, Froy had inched up only to 6’6” but was loaded with so much meat that he looked unreal. He’d broken past the realm of realistic proportions and was touching morph territory. I looked behind me and saw Avery and Lisa’s horrified expressions. They were full of confusion and fear, frozen in place as they watched Marcus try and contain Froy’s rampage. Fuck off!” Froy cried out. “Wh—“ In Marcus’ stupor, Froy caught both his forearms and was starting to hyperventilate. Even with Marcus’ 8” height advantage, he was no match for Froy’s empowered grip. In seconds, he started losing his balance and his posture was weakening. I couldn’t believe it. Froy was trying to shrink Marcus. “Wh-what are you doing? Hey, man, let me go! S… stop… !” Marcus cried out. It was futile. No matter how much Marcus tried to break free of Froy’s grip, both his arms were locked tight. And it didn’t take long for Froy to start moaning in pleasure. In seconds, Marcus was starting to shrink. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but it didn’t take long for him to visibly diminish. All the muscle he’d stored up for the past few weeks was melting right off his body. His arms slimmed down to how they were this morning, but even then, the rest of his body quickly followed, causing the bed sheet wrapped around his body to become less of a toga and more of a tent. As his bloated body began to wither, he also started shrinking in height. It didn’t take long for him to start losing inches, going from 7’2” to 7’1”... then 7 '0”... Meanwhile, Froy was enjoying yet another growth spurt. His body responded better to Marcus’ than Wes’. Now, his growth was far more intense. It started in his shorts, his thighs expanding wildly until they started breaking free of his trunks. The rest of his upper body ballooned out of control, growing even wider as his ribcage expanded in all directions. His poor tattered shirt disintegrated into a pile of rags on his ever-growing body. He also started inching up, albeit much slower than Marcus shortened. “Oh, my god,” Lisa mumbled. “Marcus!” “Agh, let me go!” Marcus cried out. “Please…!” Then the growth picked up the pace. Froy had grown to 6’7” at this point and was only continuing to inch further upwards. He didn’t respond when we called out to him. He was so out of it that he didn’t even care that his engorging cock was slinking out of his tightening underwear, hardening and standing at full mast. Within seconds, Marcus was back down to 6’9”, but he only kept going. The bed sheet had fallen off his body completely, revealing his muscular body diminishing by the second. He was starting to stagger as well, unable to withstand his energy being drained. Froy, on the other hand, had increased by another inch and a half, up to 6’8.5” now. They were practically the same height, but Froy’s body had just been pumped with two enormous amounts of muscle. He was wider, stronger, and just straight-up bigger than Marcus now. But even then, he didn’t stop. No one could stop him. In the next few seconds, Froy outgrew Marcus completely. Froy’s growing body eclipsed Marcus and the size difference only continued becoming more and more apparent. None of us were able to stop it from happening. Marcus had hit the 6’5” mark and Froy rose up to 6’9”. For the first time in weeks, Marcus was shorter than Froy again — and he only continued getting smaller. Froy was becoming so muscular that it was difficult to stomach what might happen if he continued swelling. He was bigger than he ever had been before. Both he and Marcus were buck naked, which only made the growth all the more apparent. His arms had doubled in size, and his chest was packed with so much strength that each muscle was visibly outgrowing each other, his pecs jutting out by at least a good six inches. And it was even harder to ignore his ever-growing legs. Each thigh was nearly as thick as my entire torso, and his feet were — no doubt — almost twice as long as mine. Even his already-huge cock continued to inflate and grow beyond human comprehension. It had to have been longer than my entire forearm and only got increasingly larger the more he drained Marcus. “Ungh…” Marcus whimpered. He was only 6’2” at this point. With a triumphant roar, Froy squeezed Marcus’ arms and sent him to his knees, speeding up the process. Even on the ground, as Froy got bigger, Marcus was getting pulled up by Froy’s broadening grip. But he didn’t stop. Froy didn’t let go. He wanted more. As more and more muscle packed itself onto Froy’s body, Marcus returned to his 5’11” body but didn’t stop getting smaller. Froy had hit 6’10” and was inching close to the ceiling. His width already blocked the entire walkway we were standing in. Wes was out of commission, so I knew I was the only one who could stop Froy before he did any permanent damage to Marcus. He was already smaller than Wes. I stood up and, even in my pained state, walked over to Froy. His new growth had turned him into a monster. He was still childishly handsome and maintained his modelesque V-shape — except blown up to ridiculous proportions. I was staring directly at his nipples, which had become plump from all the growth. “Hey, what are you doing?!” Avery asked. “I have to help,” I said. I looked down at Wes, and he was barely able to catch a breath. Marcus was nearly down to my height, and Froy was hitting Marcus levels of insane growth. “Froy! Stop!” I yelled. When I finally reached them, Marcus had lost practically all his muscle and was barely my height, a mere shadow of his former self. While Froy was lost in his stupor, I pried open Froy’s grip and let one of Marcus’ hands go. When I got Marcus free, he was no more than 5’6”, an insane loss of nearly two feet in height and several hundred pounds. He came tumbling onto the ground and was barely functional. I looked up at Froy and hit him in the chest — to no impact. “What the fuck did you just do?! Froy! Are you even fucking listening to me?” I asked. Then he got angry. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?! I don’t want to play your stupid games anymore!” One look in his eyes, to see if he was even conscious, and I saw nothing but the same fogginess I saw in Wes and Marcus. I thought he would hit me. Instead, he lunged forward and wrapped a huge hand around my neck. My mind went blank. All I could think about was how easy it would be for him to snap my windpipe like a plastic straw. Then I felt it. An instant fatigue washed over my entire body, as if all my energy dissipated into thin air. I tried breaking free of Froy’s grip, but the more I struggled, the harder it became to even raise my arms. I couldn’t believe it. I was caught in the arms of someone I loved — but this isn’t how I expected things to turn out. He was draining me. It felt okay at first, all my baby fat in my gut had melted away, but then I started feeling lethargic. The clothes I had on were becoming a burden to wear. My legs were giving out, and I could tell that any muscle I did have was shriveling into weeds. I used up all my strength to open my eyes and watch as Froy’s body went into overdrive. He was growing exponentially faster than he did with anyone else. Pounds upon pounds of raw muscle were swelling his already gigantic body into uncharted territory. He was breaking into Marcus’ former size. And I knew it wouldn’t be long ‘til he outgrew Wes even at his biggest. As I continued to shrink, his chest rose higher and higher, inch by inch. His basketball shoulders were starting to hit the decor around the bar as his body expanded in every possible direction. My feet weren’t even touching the floor anymore. He was holding me up with nothing but his grip on my neck. I didn’t know how much shorter I’d become, but his hand was starting to envelop my head too. In fact, everything around me was bigger than I’d ever seen it before. I felt like a child — caught in the grip of a living giant. The bigger he got, and the smaller I was, the more his cock seemed to threaten surpassing me in size. It had to be way over a foot long, probably one and a half feet of pure meat. I looked further down and saw my feet dangerously high off the ground. Then I heard a thud. Froy’s bedhead had hit the ceiling, and his arms were breaking everything he bumped into. His entire torso was larger than me now — many times over. Just one of his bulging pecs alone looked like it held more mass than my entire body, with nipples that wouldn’t even fit in my mouth anymore. In fact, his chest and arms seemed to have the biggest changes. The hefty muscle underneath his pecs and upper arms was threatening to tear through his tan skin from the sheer uncontrolled growth. His abs were so tight that my fingers could run valleys through each crevice, and each of his legs was undoubtedly taller and heavier than I was. I wasn’t even sure if I could wrap my hands around his cock anymore. I thought I would black out, but thankfully, Froy let go of me. I was relieved, but what I didn’t think about was the fall. It felt like I’d been pushed off a building. At the last second, Wes was able to catch me just in time. His hands nearly enveloped my entire body, and I knew he was only 5’11”. I was literally a small child to him. If I had to guess, with the way I was staring right at his crotch, I was no more than 2’5”. “Wh—“ Froy muttered. “Hey, are you okay?” Wes asked me. “Christ, you’re small.” “Yeah, I’m fine, but…” “Yeah, I don’t know what we’re going to do about you.” I looked back up at Froy to assess the damage. From where I was on the floor, he was an absolute colossus of muscle, way bigger than any of us had ever been before. Not even Wes was ever this humongous. He left no breathing room in the confined walkway and was crashing and smashing things with barely any movement. Yet, somehow, he was still impossibly mobile. It was like he was completely unfazed by the way all his new strength forced his arms and legs to spread out. Froy rubbed his head, as if straight out of a migraine. “Huh…?” He raised his head again but collided with the ceiling. “Ach! What?” “Froy?” I called out. He looked down at me for the first time and nearly fell on his back in surprise. He broke a few more cabinets and wine glasses that were hanging over the bar, just from his flailing. The kid didn’t even look like he could catch a breath. All around him was debris from the aftermath of his outbursts — and his co-workers, painfully shrunken down on the ground. “Sir?! What happened?” “You got drunk. That’s what happened,” I said. “I-I-I-Why am I so… so big?! Did I drain you? All of you?” Then Marcus rose from the ground. “Holy shit, look at me! Look at what you fucking did to me, you asshole!” Froy looked like a deer in headlights — a really, really big deer. “I didn’t mean it, sir! I swear!” Marcus looked like he was about to cry. “Oh, shut up! I don’t want to hear you talk right now.” Then he looked down and saw me. “Holy fuck, Dory?” “I’m sorry!” Froy cried. “I said shut up!” Marcus yelled. The door leading to the bar then swung open, and Sammy came rushing in with a bunch of guards and co-workers. Avery and Lisa tried stopping them, but they were pushed aside like toilet paper. Sammy stood a few feet away, close enough to paint a very good idea of what just happened. Wes, Marcus, and I were all shrunk down while Froy was a towering wall of muscle. Then he saw the damages. “Holy shit, what the fuck did you four do in my bar?!” I couldn’t breathe. All four of us were buck naked, and we were all our entire office was staring at. It was a living nightmare. “I’ll explain it to you later,” Wes said, “but for now, could you please get them out of here?!” Before anyone else could say anything, Froy whimpered. He was absolutely broken. We all turned to him and watched him barrel through the crowd, head and shoulders above everyone. I called out to him, but he wasn’t listening. He smashed through the doorway and headed into the restaurant, out of our sight. “Hey, stop!” Sammy cried out. “God damn it, why do I always have to be one cleaning up after other men’s messes?” Lisa and Avery rushed over to our side and immediately offered their coats. It was strange, standing on my two feet again, only to be looking up at Avery. Everything felt painfully surreal. I looked over at Marcus and saw that he was nearly the same height as Lisa, only four inches off. He was shaking his hands, refusing to accept Lisa’s jacket — refusing to even look at her. “No! This isn’t happening!” he yelled. “This is not okay!” “What are you talking about?” Lisa asked. “Just take my damn jacket and cover yourself up.” But Marcus persisted. “No… no, this isn’t right. Just leave me alone, Lis’.” She shook her head. “What, why?” “Oh, don’t act like you aren’t happy about this! I know you’ve always hated me.” Lisa couldn’t help but laugh. “What the fuck does that have to do with now? I’m trying to help you, you idiot!” She tried offering her jacket again. “I still love you.” But Marcus smacked her hands away, causing the jacket to fall to the floor. “And I don’t want your help right now, okay?!” It was at this point that Marcus noticed the painful silence in the room. All eyes were on him. For a minute, all we did was stare at him, listening, watching everything he said and did. Then he panicked. “God, fuck!” He turned around and sprinted out the glass doors leading to the beach. Lisa groaned. “Why does he always have to make things harder than they have to be?!” she yelled, picking up her jacket and rushing out the doors to follow him. “I have to check up on Froy,” I said. But Wes stopped me, holding me in place with his muscled arms. “No, it’s too dangerous.” “I have to help him, what if he’s doing something stupid?!” Then Sammy butted in. “Don’t worry about your intern. Just go keep the other one safe.” He whipped out a walkie-talkie and quickly headed back into the restaurant. “We’ve got a Code: Godzilla on the premises, boys! I repeat, a Code: Godzilla!” Sammy’s security guards wasted no time and started evacuating the bar, leaving only us behind. “Hear that? Sammy has an entire emergency protocol just for… godzilla… or something. Your Fro-yo will be fine, okay? Let’s go check up on Marcus,” Wes said. I didn’t have a choice. I would just have to go see if he was okay later. “Fine. Let’s go,” I said. Wes smiled at me and nodded. “Thanks. Here,” he said, picking me up in a bridal carry, “I’ll carry you. You’re even lighter than you look!” “Or you’re just too strong.” Avery stood at the glass doors and looked at us. “Should I lead the way?” “Yes, please. Thank you, Avery,” Wes said. The three of us headed out onto the beach in the middle of the night to follow Marcus’ trail. It was painfully cold out, what with the ocean breeze and chilled air — plus, I was nude. I asked Wes for something to cover myself with, and he took off his muscle shirt. He wrapped it around my like a baby as he coddled me against his well-developed chest. It was a macrophile’s wet dream. Avery didn’t turn around to check up on us throughout the walk. He seemed dead set on finding Marcus — that, or he was avoiding talking to his dad. Either way, I was glad he was helping us out. The shore was surprisingly expansive and sprawled all the way out to no man’s land, so it was a very long, quiet trek. When we eventually found Lisa and Marcus, they were standing at the edge of the shoreline, just before the water brushed their feet. Marcus — oh, Marcus — he was being painfully stubborn. He was still naked, hunching his back and folding his arms, tucked in his armpits. But even when he was freezing, he was still swinging a weapon in-between his thighs. Wes walked up to them and everyone looked up to him — literally. At 5’11”, he was now the tallest among us, with only Marcus at 5’6”. He had a body of a bodybuilder but was nowhere as slim, with his chub making his muscles look larger than they were, making him appear even bigger to the rest of us who looked like kids. “Hey, what’s happening? Come back to the resort, Marcus,” Wes said. “He won’t listen,” Lisa said. “He thinks everyone’s going to make fun of him.” “They will!” Marcus yelled. Wes shook his head. “No, they won’t. I’m the boss around here, so if you’ve got any complaints about someone, then you tell me, okay?” “Oh, come on, Wes! Don’t treat me like a child. I’m not going to get bullied. I’m not Froy!” “Please leave him out of this,” I said. “Wh—what you’re just going to ignore what he just did to you?! As if he didn’t just shrink you down into a fucking eggplant?” “Marcus, come on, you’re being hysterical,” Lisa said. “Whatever your problem is, we can work on it together, alright?” She tried reaching out to him again. But Marcus stepped back. “No, I don’t think so. Do you have any idea how happy I was? How great it felt to have the body I had? I loved you then, and I still love you now, but I don’t think you have any idea how to help me right now, okay?” Wes approached. “Then what about me? What about I talk to you, hm?” Avery scoffed. “You wouldn’t know how to help a dog, dad,” he muttered. In an instant, Wes pushed his son away. “What did I tell you about shutting up?!” Avery fell onto the sand and stared at his dad in fear, his breathing abnormal. He raised his hands almost instinctively as if to defend himself. “Fuck, no, I didn’t mean to do that,” Wes said. All the tangents we were going on weren’t getting us anywhere. Clearly, Marcus didn’t want to talk to Lisa or Wes, and Avery was out of the question. I just wanted to get back to the resort and actually gather my thoughts. I jumped off Wes and crashed onto the sand. It felt like my feet were about to shatter, but I had to speak up. “Why don’t you talk to me, Marcus,” I said. “If you think you lost a lot, just look at me for a second.” “Thanks, Dory,” Lisa said. Marcus took a deep breath and sighed. “Fine. But I only want to talk to you. I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.” I walked over to him, and he picked me up. He held me out in front of him like a doll and chuckled. “Man, even with all the shit that happened tonight, somehow you still make me feel like a big guy.” “Glad to help.” After I convinced Marcus to take Lisa’s jacket, and once Wes helped his son back onto his feet, I thought we were done. I thought we were finally going to get to go back to the resort, settle in for the night, talk amongst ourselves, and go to sleep. There weren’t supposed to be any more problems. Unfortunately for me, it seemed like nothing was ever going to be normal and predictable again. No disaster response training could have ever prepared me for what happened in the next few moments. As we were about to head back, Avery stopped and looked up at the sky. He raised a finger and pointed at something. “Hey, dad. Look, a shooting star.” Suddenly, I had deja vu. My anxiety was at an all-time high all over again. I didn’t want to look up, but something in my gut told me I had to. So, I did. And there, falling from the sky, was another motherfucking meteor. It was just like last time, except now, there weren’t any trees to protect us, no. It didn’t seem like we had any time to hide either. The meteor looked dangerously close, and it wasn’t like the first one at all. The original meteor was still contained in a rock, but this one looked like it was glowing, with purple cracks all around it. If it landed, there was no doubt it would’ve exploded on impact. “Holy fuck! That’s not a shooting star!” Wes yelled. “Is this seriously happening again?!” “Oh, no, no, this can’t be happening. You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lisa said. I looked in Marcus’ eyes and saw them glimmer. “Another meteor...?” Before any of us could say anything else, we tried getting out of the way. But it was too late. While everyone else tried to escape the impact, Marcus stood still, his eyes glued to the meteor. No way did I want to get killed. I thought about jumping again, but my feet were still aching from the last time. I was worried I was going to get caught up in the blast if I didn’t get away from Marcus. Then I wondered… what would happen if I got slimed? Me? The next thing I knew, Avery grabbed me from Marcus’ arms and tried taking me with him to safety. As the meteor crashed mere inches away from Marcus, Avery tripped over his feet and sent me flying several meters away, straight out of the blast zone. I watched in mid-air as everyone — Marcus, Wes, Lisa, and Avery — disappeared in a thick purple sludge that erupted from the meteor. They were all thrown back from the explosion, with black rock and charred sand in a storm of violet debris. All I could hear were their screams. I blacked out in an instant the moment my body hit the sand. What woke me up from unconsciousness wasn’t someone’s voice, the sweet smell of cinnamon, or any lights at the end of some tunnel. No, it was just me, still on the beach — drowning. The tide washed over me while I was knocked out, probably from the meteor, if I had to make a wild guess. My head was in immense pain and so was my back. I didn’t know what time it was anymore or how long I’d been out cold. “Oh, sweet cheeks!” Only when someone’s huge hands picked me up from the sand did I remember how small I was. Everything was still painfully foggy, even my sight was blurred. I achingly looked to see whose hands I was in and found Sammy’s face looking worriedly at mine. He was mouthing orders to some other people, but I didn’t know who they were — nor could I even see them. There was only one thing I heard before I fainted again. “Get them all to the infirmary, alright, boys? I don’t know what the hell happened here, but no one else can ever know about this. Holy mama.” As he carried me away, back to the resort I assumed, I looked back at the crash site. I didn’t know if it was the memory fog, the blurry vision, or the general exhaustion, but… there was nothing. Nothing there — only sand. As if the meteor had never crashed in the first place. There was no sign of debris or purple slime, nothing. I could only wonder what was going on in Sammy’s mind. Just how was he going to make sense of any of this? And where the fuck did the meteor go?
  8. 25 points
    Trying something different between chapters of ‘Flex for class’. The scenario and protagonist for this are lifted from a fbb worship story I found on literotica called Best Seat On The Plane. This has always been a scenario I’ve dreamt of, so rewrote with a male bodybuilder and embellished a bit. I hope the original author doesn’t mind. Original story is here: https://www.literotica.com/s/best-seat-on-the-plane Plane Muscle John was sitting in Chicago airport at his gate, waiting patiently for his flight to Washington D.C. He had a conference the next day and was flying in the night before. Looking round at the people waiting for flights, he spotted a man who immediately stood out to him. His cock jolted in his pants at the sight of a huge bodybuilder less than 10 feet away. John had a secret love for well built men, the bigger the better. He had no idea why he loved men with muscles so much, but he learned over time not to fight his passion but embrace it. The crazy thing was, he had never met a bodybuilder before! His only experience was looking at pictures on the internet, or occasionally seeing one on the street or in a shopping centre. He always dreamed about what it would be like to meet one, and maybe even feel their muscles. The man he spotted was standing at the end of one of the aisles of seats looking at his phone. He was definitely a bodybuilder, and looked absolutely massive from where John was sitting. After the initial blur of seeing his presence from the corner of his eye, what John noticed was the size of his legs, which were visible because he was wearing mid length black shorts. His legs looked smooth with huge quad muscles, the bulges of which remained visible even under the material of the shorts. Just from standing there he could see incredible definition. When he would shift his weight from one leg to the other his muscles would contract and harden. His calves were also well defined and thick with size. He was wearing a lightweight long sleeve jacket, but he could see big round shoulders and beefy arms. The jacket draped around the waist, but everywhere else it hugged the man’s upper body tightly and was tautly stretched around his huge delts, arms, chest and back muscles. The bodybuilder swung round, now exposing to John how wide he was from the back. The seams of the jacket showed signs of unthreading due to the huge forces on them. He swung back and resumed poking his phone. Without thinking John got up to get a better view of him. He was pretending to do something with his phone as he got within a couple of feet. Just being this close to his incredible size was getting John excited as he positioned himself behind the mountain of muscle. He looked bigger than any man John had ever seen, or maybe it was because he had never seen such a huge bodybuilder this close before. John was an average man, standing 5’9” tall and weighing 150 pounds. Standing this close to the bodybuilder he had never felt weaker or smaller, the bigger guy having at least 5 inches on him. He was handsome too, with olive skin and a shaved head. His facial features were quite intense and masculine with hazel eyes. John couldn't place his nationality but guessed at French or Mediterranean. Trembling, he took a closer look from the side, and could see he was holding his ticket in a meaty hand. He could just make out they were on the same flight and his seat was 1A. John was disappointed their seats weren't closer, but bristled at the thought of sharing a plane with this goliath. But then he got an idea! It was a long shot but worth a go. "Hi may I help you?" The woman behind the counter asked. "Hello, I was wondering if it was possible to upgrade to first class?" John asked. "Let me see." The attendant started punching on her keyboard. "The farther up the better, something like 1A." John was hoping this would be enough to get close. "1A is taken but how about 1B. The upgrade fee is $199." The attendant offered. John's heart nearly leapt out of his chest it was beating so fast. He tried his best to calm himself so he didn't look crazy, but he was sure his legs might give out any second. "That would be perfect." He said. What a small price to pay to get the best seat on the plane he thought to himself. He walked back over to the seats to sit down and calm himself. He made sure that he could still see the muscular man from his vantage point. As he held his phone still looking at it, he could see massive mounds bulging under the sleeves. He had to be a super heavyweight John thought. The wait to board the plane seemed like it took forever as John sat impatiently sneaking peaks at the man. Finally the announcement was made that pre-boarding would begin. He looked over to see the muscle bull stand and make his way to boarding. Watching so much dense hard muscle move like this in real life was surreal! John tried to casually get up and fall in in line behind him. The way his heart was racing he was sure it was less than casual. He was directly behind the guy now, taking in his massive frame. His shoulders were so wide and round John couldn't believe his eyes. He must have been in off season to be this big, and yet he still had great separation in his legs. It didn't take long to get through the line and soon they were making their way down the jet bridge to the plane. The bodybuilder walked with confident, heavy stomps in front of John, his arms hanging away from his body due to his huge lats. John couldn't take his eyes off the calves that flexed with every step, and his dick chubbed in his tight briefs as the sight. As they approached the cabin door, passengers boarded the plane and were greeted by the attendant. The muscle man however, had to turn side on to walk through. John could not believe how thick this guy’s upper body was. Side on he was as wide as a normal man! John had never flown first class before and felt like royalty. In front of him, the bodybuilder was already putting his carry-on in the overhead compartment and taking his seat by the window. John put his luggage above as well and looked down to see the man struggling to take off his jacket. What an amazing sight. He looked hard as a rock and bulging all over. He wasn’t contest ready as John thought he might have been before, but not in the depths of off season some bodybuilders got into. He had that jacked roid cycle look, like he was constantly swelling up. Underneath the jacket he had on a tight fitting white t shirt. His arms, shoulders, and chest were exploding out of it. He must have felt John staring because he looked up and gave him a warm smile. "Is this your seat?" The huge man asked, pointing to 1B. John realized he was staring and snapped out of his trance to take the seat next to him. His voice was masculine, deep and… French! Good guess “.... um, Yep! 1B! ….That’s me!” John sank into the seat, mortified at what he had said. He didn't know what to say or do and just sat in his seat looking straight ahead, dick throbbing and twitching between his thigh and jeans. "Can I get you something to drink?" The flight attendant bent down to ask them. "Sure I’ll have a water." "I'll also have a water." John reflexively responded. He was so nervous as he sat there looking straight ahead. He realized that the guy might be thinking he is one of those closed minded people that disagree with his lifestyle. He was trying to think of anything to do or say but his mind was blank. The flight attendant came back with their waters and John and the man thanked her. The seats in first class were a little bigger than back in coach, yet the muscular man was so big he filled the entire seat and still managed to push up against John's shoulder and arm. John was in a light oxford button down, but the electricity off feeling the man swelling up against his shoulder was palpable. He found himself leaning away because he was so nervous to even touch him. The huge muscle mountain must have caught on… "Hey, I'm Alex by the way." he had his hand extended toward John in a greeting. It was huge, thick and looked textured through years of work outs. John took it and the man shook his hand firmly. "um...John." "Nice to meet you John, are you heading to D.C for business or pleasure." he asked in a deep French accent. John was so thankful he was breaking the ice with casual conversation. His hazel eyes had a kindness to them that instantly made John relax a little. "Business, I am attending a conference tomorrow." He offered. "What is your business?" he asked. "I am a software engineer for a mid-sized company. We provide contracting services for telecom companies mostly." "Interesting." he said. John was sure this must have been the most boring conversation, but Alex had an honesty to him that made even John’s boring job sound like it was fascinating. John was doing everything in his power to maintain eye contact. He wanted so badly to sneak a peek at Alex’s gigantic body but knew that he needed to play it cool. "How about you? Business or pleasure?" He asked. "A little of both, I have never been to D.C. so I am hoping to see the sights. The company I work for has it's headquarters there and I will be doing some training on Monday." "Oh, so you have the whole weekend to enjoy the city." "Yes, that's the plan." he said. "I lived in D.C. for about 5 years, it is a great city to explore." John offered. "Any suggestions? I didn't really plan anything, I just decided to fly in early and look around." John was more relaxed now as he was talking to Alex about something he knew about. People were still boarding the plane as John started telling him all his favourite spots in the D.C. Alex listened to everything he was saying with rapt attention. John was 30 and was pretty sure Alex was around the same age. His skin had that mature look to it but with no visible signs of aging, yet given his muscle size he must have been bodybuilding for a long time. “Sorry you have to be sat next to the big lug by the way. I’ll try not to squash you too much!” Alex offered with smile and a giggle, a routine John felt like he might have had to do before. He was as charming as he was big! “Oh! No problem. Anyway, I hardly take up any space” “Thank you John! Some people… are not so nice about it” “Well, it’s fine by me” John smiled, relaxing back into his seat and no longer feeling awkward at feeling Alex’s awesome body swelling over the armrest in to him. In fact, it felt amazing. The cabin doors were closed now and John felt the familiar feeling of the plane backing up away from the terminal. Alex took a deep breath, his incredible chest and shoulders swelling upward and outward, pushing against John so that he could feel the dense thickness of muscle again. They were silent for a few minutes as Alex looked ahead. "John, I have a confession to make." Alex said. "What’s that?" John asked, intrigued. "I don't fly very much and I get nervous when the plane is taking off. I am usually fine when we are in the air, I just… I need to get through the first part." he was gripping the armrest showing thick ropes of muscle popping out on his forearm, a bead of sweat on his forehead. John’s eyes widened at the sight as he snuck a peak when Alex wasn't looking. He must have lingered too long because when he looked up, Alex was looking at him through the corner of his eyes with interest. "It helps me to talk. It takes my mind off it." he continued. "OK, well, I’ll see what I can do." John said. "Also…” Alex paused, “You can ask me about my muscles, it's OK. Most people don't know what to make of me or are too scared to ask." He was so forward and honest. John wasn't sure how to respond. Should he come clean and be honest, or hide his true feelings on the subject? “Oh, well people can be intimidated to talk about that sort of thing!” John offered as a halfway house. “And plus, well you are huge!” Alex only nodded back. "Actually Alex. I… I have a confession as well." John finally said. "What is it?" Alex asked with authentic interest, pleased to be distracted. "I am a huge fan of bodybuilders." John said. Alex’s face softened hearing this, and he temporarily forgot about the take off. "How big of a fan? Who was the last man to win the Mr Olympia?" Alex quizzed him, half joking, half intrigued to see how genuine John was being. "That's easy, I could list every man who won Mr Olympia." John retorted. "OK smarty pants, list them for me." And off John went listing every Mr O from Larry Scott to Phil Heath, even throwing in the odd fact or personal favourite along the way. "Wow, that's better than I can do, I think you proved your point." he looked at John surprised. "So when you were giving me those funny looks before..." Fuck! How far back had he noticed? "Sorry about that. It's just that you’re clearly a bodybuilder and I was kind of… awestruck." John admitted. “I’ve… never been this close up to a guy as big as you before. It’s … well, incredible” he gulped. Alex nodded his head understandingly. "I am a bodybuilder; I have been training hard core for over 12 years now." he said matter of factly. "Wow, that's amazing. I have the most respect for your discipline. I workout with weights on and off but can never keep the focus to achieve what you have. Have you ever competed?" John asked. "No, I do it for myself. I have never had the courage to get up in front of a huge crowd like that." "I am sure if you did you would thrash the competition." John stated Alex looked over at him and smiled. "Thanks; I really appreciate an expert like you saying that. What else do you want to know." he offered. "How strong are you?" Alex’s smile got even bigger, as he turned slightly in his seat, the view of his body getting wider and wider to John. "Very strong." he said confidently, leaning toward John as he said it. John just stared back and gulped. All this talk about Alex’s muscles was getting him hard, but the way he leaned toward him now sent blood pumping through his cock. "I have never completely maxed myself out because it can be dangerous, but I don't think there are many men who come even close to my strength." "Really?" John was looking at him with his eyes wide and mouth open. "Really." Alex answered. "How much are we talking?" John asked. "I have pushed out over 500 lbs. I had spotters, but I did it completely unassisted." "Whoaaa." John was completely shocked. "I can squat 700 lbs. safely, but I wouldn't want to go higher." "That's...crazy." John managed to say. He looked down at Alex’s massive legs. They were like tree trunks and dwarfed his own legs by comparison. Up close they were slightly hairy, covered by paper thin skin. Three large mounds were visible on the top of each leg and John could only imagine how they would look if he flexed. Alex saw him looking at legs. “I have to wear shorts most of the time. Trousers and jeans tend not get round these” he said, patting his thigh lightly. Alex listed off some of his other accomplishments which were just stupendous. He had the strength of a powerlifter but the definition and thickness of an off season bodybuilder, which made for the most amazing combination. John’s dick throbbed as Alex described some of his feats of strength. There was one occasion where Alex had been spotting another guy on the bench. The man was struggling on his last set pressing 100kg. Alex had lifted the bar off him with one hand. Some of the other members noticed and challenged him to curl the weight with one arm. He had knocked out ten reps with almost no effort. On another occasion, someone had parked the front of their car across two parking bays. Alex had lifted the front half of the car and dragged it across into one bay. The airplane was lining up on the runway now and getting ready to rev the engines for take off. Up to this point Alex hadn't noticed and been completely relaxed talking to John. The plane started to accelerate and Alex couldn't help but notice the plane was preparing for take off. He closed his eyes and pushed his head back in the head rest again. His entire body seemed to tense up and John couldn't help but notice how much bigger his arms swelled up. He had a vice grip on the armrests again, causing his forearms to harden and flex. His upper body exploded with muscle as he tensed up. His biceps bulged, showing massive size and formed into huge mounds the size of grapefruits. His pecs looked amazing as they stretched the white cotton even further as they swelled up. His tight white top did nothing to hide Alex’s huge muscles, especially now as the fear taking over his body made him swell up bigger than ever. His chest was fully flexed, almost hitting his chin. John was drinking in every second he had to get a good look at his body. Alex’s shoulders were massive and looked like they were carved out of stone. Suddenly he was snapped out of his hypnotised state, as a disturbing sound filled the air. It was like metal popping. Alex’s grip on the armrests was getting tighter, his thick strong fingers digging into the steel. John’s mouth dropped open at what he was seeing. Alex was crushing the armrests in his hands. The first class plane seats were constructed of thick steel plates, but right now, Alex was crushing them in his hands like John would a juice carton. Alex’s huge forearms had so much power in them, he had nearly formed a fist. His face was scrunched up and he was emitting a low pitched growl, like he was about to set a new world record for a strength record. John tried a relaxation trick. He counted back from 10, and told Alex a fact about D.C in between each number, assuring him that when they got to number 1, they’d be up in the air, flying smoothly. John made each fact a little longer. Alex continued to scrunch up the inch thick steel plates into a ball, and was now breathing very heavily. It made John’s cock swell and release precum. Alex had not lied when he said there weren’t many men as strong as him; and now John was seeing it first hand. The relaxation technique was working though, and Alex’s face gradually returned to its handsome relaxed position, his eyes still closed, his pumped chest still flexed, touching his chin. The plane was almost done climbing as it started to level out. John looked at his handsome face and could see his full lips were slightly parted, his breath almost panting. His muscles started to relax as he calmed down. He lowered his head and opened his eyes looking over to John and gave him a warm smile. "Thank you for taking my mind off flying. I would have been a mess if it wasn't for you." he said as he reached over and squeezed John's hand. John flinched slightly. This muscle bull’s hand had just crushed an armrest into smithereens, and now it was wrapping round his own. But Alex knew his strength, and was gentle to his smaller friend. John's hands were in his lap trying desperately to cover up the raging erection he had from the sight of Alex’s feat of strength. Alex’s big hand lingered on John’s for a couple of seconds as he looked into John’s eyes and finally removed his hand. He felt so relaxed with John, and found himself enjoying a flight for the first time in his life. "It was my pleasure, I enjoy talking to you." John said as he returned a smile. “buuuut, something’s a mess!” he added, nodding to the armrests. Alex gave another broad smile “c’est risque professionnel” he retorted, like this might not be the first time something like this happened. “Wow. That is some occupational hazard!” John replied, running his hand over the crumpled up remains of the armrest. Alex raised his eyebrows, impressed he didn’t have to translate for his new companion. Nevertheless, he wanted to move the conversation to John for a bit. He changed gears. "So tell me, when did you become a fan of bodybuilding?" "Uh...since I was born I guess. I have memories of admiring muscle on men as far back as I can remember." John admitted. "Really?" Alex was getting more intrigued by the minute "Yeah, it's kind of a rare thing I guess; to see someone of your size and musculature, so there are a few vivid memories that stand out. Once I remember being at a restaurant when I was very young, maybe 10 or 11, and there was a waiter that had a visible bicep bulging through his white shirt. He wasn’t a bodybuilder like you, but I noticed it bulge even more when he was carrying the heavy trays of food around. I remember watching him the whole time just waiting to see if I could get another view of his bicep." Alex was nodding his head as he looked at him with interest. “So, how do you know it’s muscle you have an interest in and not tight white shirts?” To John’s delight, Alex bounced his pecs one at a time as he said this, emphasising just how tight his shirt was over his gargantuan body. John teetered. “I never thought of that! Next time I’ll ask the waiter to try a different shirt on, so I can check your theory” Alex treated him to the most adorable little chuckle he had ever seen. John’s heart began to flutter as he continued. It was almost therapeutic having never talked to anyone about this. "To a lesser extent, I also remember World’s Strongest Man at a young age. The strongmen looked amazing to me; the way their huge bodies loomed over the presenters, and the incredible amounts of weight they could move. It was like waking up for the first time when I saw them” “So then, why do you say to a lesser extent?” Alex asked. “Well, only a few strongmen had the amazing physique of a bodybuilder, and they tended not to be the strongest ones. In fact, I’ve never been aware of anyone who combined the physique of a Mr Olympia with the raw strength of a World’s Strongest Man…” John somewhat trailed off realising that he might now be sitting next to the type of man he just described. He paused, not sure if he should continue. He didn't want to scare Alex off. "I know what you mean, I had similar thoughts, although from a different perspective. As a boy I remember seeing really huge men and I found their strength fascinating. Especially feeling like I could be even bigger and stronger than them one day. So when was the first time you saw a bodybuilder?" Alex asked. "I was a teenager, flipping through the channels and stumbled upon a Mr O competition. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen. The men were amazing, like… prize bulls! I remember seeing Nasser el Sonbaty for the first time and being in complete awe that a man could have muscle development like that." John froze. “Muscle bulls”! Would Alex take that as an insult? "Who won that year?" Alex asked. John continued, relieved "I remember like it was yesterday, it was an interesting time that I came in the middle of. It was Dorian Yates. Remember, I had never seen men with muscle like this before and I remember being very confused. To me it seemed obvious that Dorian or Nasser should win, their muscles were unreal, like nothing I had ever seen." "Oh yeah, that was the time they were trying to shift away from the muscle freaks." Alex added. "Ha! I don’t think it worked. All I knew at that moment was how incredibly muscled and strong they looked." "Then what?" Alex prodded. "As a teenager I had just witnessed the most incredible sight I had ever seen. Now I was looking for more. I found a store that sold what I think was the greatest magazine at the time. Flex. It was really hard to find where I lived, but it was awesome. Then, at school there was a boy who got into lifting weights. He got pretty big, but again, never approached IFBB pro level, like you” John didn't tell him about some of the videos he used to order. Mostly workout and lifestyle videos the Olympia contestants used to release in the 90s. John would whack off to them, loving being able to see these huge monsters pump up and pose, grunting all the while. "I kept my eye open for anything else on TV, but it was like the well dried up. There were a few smaller shows that I found, but that was pretty much it. Now years later I know that I came in at the end of its initial popularity, or at least it's exposure was limited." He finished. “And how did it make you feel, John?” Alex asked, his eyes twinkling and intense. “Uuh. Good. I felt good. Seeing them was like art”. It was the best compromise he could think of to say at the time. John was quiet, he felt like he had done a lot of talking and was curious what Alex had to say about what he said. "I love how you describe your passion for muscle. So simple and pure. I agree with you, it's like art. I feel like I am an artist molding my body. For me I didn't see a bodybuilder till I was almost 14. I already knew it was something I wanted and seeing it for real changed my life. At the gym they had pictures of bodybuilders and I would look at that and dream of having muscles like that for myself. Feeling my muscles grow and thicken at that age was amazing! It's hard to explain, I have just always wanted to be well built and strong as a … ox." He gave John a smile and a wink at the last bit. "It's just who we are so why fight it." John commented, as much to himself as to Alex. "So what about you, you look like you are in shape, how do you keep so nice and trim?" Alex asked. "I have been working out, on and off for about 5 years. I would love to be huge myself but my body just didn’t respond. Couldn’t keep the weight on." He said, dejected. "Maybe you just need the right teacher, who have you worked with?" Alex asked. "Nobody, I just do my own research and try to figure it out myself." John admitted. "I think we just found the problem. I have always had people helping me at my gym, nothing beats someone with experience." "How long have you been training?" John asked. "I have been hard-core training for about 12 years now. I had a pretty good base when I started, I was already a very strong boy. I started lifting when I was a teenager. When I was about 16, a bodybuilder at my gym started to help me train and I got the right diet and exercise program and started to really make gains." he said proudly. “In two years I was bigger than most of the other men who used the gym. Some didn’t like an 18 year old boy being one of the biggest and strongest guys there, so I learned early not to take offence if people objected to my big muscles.” Alex really liked talking about his past, and John was hanging on every word. To hear how Alex was able to transform his body into the man he saw before him was the most fascinating story to John While Alex was talking about his life, the trials and tribulations of growing so huge, he would move his hands around for emphasis. John would try to catch a glimpse here and there when he thought he wasn't looking. Alex either didn't notice or didn't care because he didn't mention how John’s eyes were darting all over his body. It was incredible to watch his biceps grow and form as he moved his arms around. The conversation drifted to other topics and the pair started to really hit it off. Pretty soon they were joking and talking like old friends. There seemed to be a mutual connection; John couldn't help but notice Alex would reach out and touch his hand or leg. It was like lightning when he touched him. The pilot came over the cabin speaker to announce that they would be landing in D.C. in about 20 minutes. John could see Alex tense up with the news as he pushed his head back in the seat to try and calm himself. John felt what was left of the shared armrest. How had Alex crunched this up like Play dough? It was solid steel to John, albeit it now with the dips and grooves of Alex’s fingers. Alex held John’s hand over the hand rest, and after a few seconds of pleasure at this feeling, John thought it might be best to get his hand out of the way. Alex spoke. "John, can I ask you something?" he said. "Sure." Alex lowered his voice, and again, leaned in close to John "What would you do if I flexed my arm for you?" John was too shocked to even respond as he sat there contemplating what to say. He could no longer, and no longer wanted, to hide his excitement at the mere mention of Alex’s muscles. He instantly got an extremely hard erection. And this time Alex didn't hide the fact that he noticed. He looked right at John’s crotch and smiled at him. Alex continued, "The way you talk about bodybuilders and muscle… I have a hunch you would really enjoy it. And I have another confession:" he paused "I would enjoy it too." John swallowed hard staring back into those alluring eyes. "I would… yes, I would like that." Alex looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. The other passengers were snoozing or focused on their devices. The flight attendants were doing their last minute checks and taking their seats around the corner. He stretched his arm out over John’s body, the back of his fist grazing John’s hard on. Slowly and with intent he pumped his bicep up, 1, 2, then 3 times, flexing hard the last time, the round hard muscle pushing the fabric of his stretchy T to it’s limit. "Go ahead.” He said “Touch it." John reached his shaking hands round cupping Alex’s amazing peak with one, and feeling the huge hanging tricep with the other. It literally felt like a rock was under his skin. With both hands wrapped around he couldn't touch his fingers because of the immense size. He slid his hands up feeling Alex’s shoulders, again it took both hands to span his incredible size. He could feel the ripples of muscle forming ridges and valleys all along his boulder sized muscle. "That feels so good." Alex whispered. "Do you like what you feel?" "It's better than my wildest dreams." John whispered back. Alex moaned and started pumping his bicep making it slowly grow and swell up more. John moved his hand back down so he could feel the transformation. These had to be the biggest arms he’d ever seen, he knew they were big but seeing them flexed he couldn't recall anything so huge. John let out a moan of pleasure as he felt Alex’s rock hard bicep under the warm skin. He could feel the power emanating from his arm as it stood unmoving and flexed. Alex had been watching his muscles pump up, and John’s hands moving over them. Now he looked up to take in his admirer’s face, and felt his heart flutter for the impact he knew his power was having. Alex held his other hand over John’s on his bicep. Him, feeling John feeling his bicep. “What do they feel like John?” “They’re… they’re so incredibly hard. Big and hard. I can feel how powerful they are just by touching them” “Hmmmmm…” Alex purred at John’s description “John, feel my strong forearms too” His hand clasped around the huge thickness of Alex’s immense forearms. They were bigger than most guys biceps. Alex moved his fist around, rippling the cords of muscle and veins around in John’s hands. “Squeeze it. See if you can make a dent” John gripped the wrist and upper forearm with all his strength. He didn’t move Alex’s muscle one iota. Then suddenly he was squashing the muscle as Alex stopped flexing. The doughy muscle still felt powerful and grainy. Then BAM! Alex flexed again and they were rock hard. His fist was still straight up in the air flexing as he opened his hand and reached over to caress John's cheek. John whimpered at his touch, his lips parting. Alex moved the hand behind John’s neck and squeezed slightly, then began pulling the smaller man towards him. They both started leaning in and locked lips in the most passionate kiss John had ever had. Alex’s lips were full and strong as they connected together with the feeling of so much emotion. It was like they were two lost souls that finally completed each other. The plane was rocking in it's final approach but in that moment they were in their own world. They kissed passionately for a couple of minutes until Alex pulled back before things got out of hand. They were forehead to forehead now looking at each other as they were coming down from their high. "Wow." Was all Alex could manage to say. "Yeah." John said back between heavy breaths. Alex took one of John's hands and placed it on his massive chest. John could feel his heart racing beneath multiple layers of dense muscle. "Do you feel that, my heart is racing right now." Alex said. John nodded emphatically as they were gazing at each other. Alex's chest started rising and hardening under John’s hand. The shirt looked like it was stretching to it's limit as his pecs were pushing out, causing the shirt to push down like his pecs couldn't be contained. John felt all over the hard ripped surface of Alex’s chest, enjoying the deep valley between the two enormous mounds. Alex playfully bounced each pec, alternating back and forth causing them to rise and fall. He never stopped looking at John as he watched the pure wonder and enjoyment he was able to give him with his body. He could see the spell he was casting on John as he truly transported him out of reality. Alex relaxed back into his seat to allow John to calm down before he got too excited. John looked up and met his gaze. They both leaned in again and shared another passionate kiss. The plane had landed now as Alex realized for the first time that he had made it through with no worries. The first time ever. John put his head on Alex’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around the massive arm like it was a teddy bear. He felt safe and protected. "Thank you for taking my mind off the flight. I have never been so good during a landing, I didn't even notice we were on the ground." he said. "Are you kidding me. You just made my biggest dream a reality, I should be thanking you." John replied. They sat there content for a moment before Alex spoke up again. "John, would you...do you want to hang out when we get off the plane?" John looked up stunned. "Yes, whatever you are up for I am in." He wasn't sure what he had in mind but the thought of spending more time with Alex was all that mattered to him. "I didn't really plan out my first couple of days, I was just going to take a chance, I don't even book a hotel." "Uh...well I can help you find a hotel." John offered. "Where are you staying?" he asked. "The Washington Hotel on K street" John answered. "How about we share a cab and I will see if they have any rooms available." "Sure." He responded. They were like two love birds cuddling and chatting as the plane made its way to the gate. They were the first to exit the cabin and hurried down the jet bridge. Once in the terminal John took charge having been here so many times. Alex was happy to let him be in control, relaxing at not having to worry where he would go or what was coming next. The airport was small and close to the city. Neither of them had checked baggage so they walked to the exit where they got a cab to the city. Alex took John’s hand in the cab, gently squeezing it. John got hard again, remembering that just a few hours earlier that same hand had demolished a solid piece of metal. They didn't talk much in the cab but continued holding hands and looking at each other every once in a while exchanging smiles. It was past rush hour so took no time for the cab to get to the hotel where John was staying. John paid the cab and the pair walked into the hotel lobby making their way to the front desk. John went first and got his arrangements all set. After he was done he pointed out a seat where he went to sit down and wait for Alex to see if he could get a room. He watched Alex at the counter still amazed at how handsome he was as he talked to the hotel desk clerk. It didn't take long and soon he was walking toward John at the bench. His quads were massive and John still couldn’t believe how they bulged with each step. "They are all booked up." he said. "Oh.. What do you want to do?" John asked unsure how to play it. "Would you mind if we go up to your room so I can figure out what to do next?" he responded. "Of course, sure. Let's go." They made their way to the elevators. Alex took his hand as they walked and gave it a little squeeze as he looked down at him. "Thanks for helping." "Whatever you need, I'm here to help." As they were standing waiting for the elevators John could feel an electricity in the air. Alex was standing close, his freakishly thick forearms brushing against John’s. The bell dinged. They were joined by others in the elevator, so neither of them talked but they kept looking at each other, smiling. Alex pressed his body against John’s and rubbed his back lovingly. The doors opened and John led the way to his room. He swiped the card to unlock the door and opened it for Alex as he motioned for him to go in. Alex strode in and John followed, flipping on the lights to get a good look at the room. The minute the door swung shut, Alex turned around to face John. There was a pause of a few seconds as the two men took each other in. Then, Alex moved forward and effortlessly picked John up so he was holding him in his arms. John wrapped his arms around Alex’s thick neck as they drew in to kiss. This was even more passionate than on the plane as their tongues explored each others mouths. Alex’s jaw and even tongue felt muscular to John. He was certainly a dominant kisser. The sexual tension had been building and was finally being released as they let go of their inhibitions. "I want to show you my body." Alex said, panting. "I think you will be blown away." John nodded vigorously at this suggestion, once again lost for words at Alex’s amazing frankness about the power his body would have. Alex set him down on the bed and took a step back “You like muscle? Watch this” Alex said with cock of his head. Then, he slowly raised his arms and flexed. Two loud pops were head as the sleeves of Alex’s jacket popped at the peak. “Nnnmmgh Yeah!” He growled “What about bodybuilder shoulders?” He brought his arms down into a most muscular. Two more pops were heard as his delts exploded through the jacket. He turned around and intensified the pose. A long rip suddenly appeared on the back of the jacket and continued to grow as Alex flex harder. He grabbed what was left of the material and tore it off his body. Crossing his arms over his body, he slowly peeled off his shirt, revealing freakishly developed muscles covered in a light layer of hair. He unbuckled his belt and pushed the waistband down slightly, but the shorts stayed put, clinging around his huge butt muscles and thighs which would not allow them to drop. He nodded down at them, indicating John should take them off. Tugging the shorts off over Alex’s immense thighs felt incredible to John. And he couldn’t help noticing that Alex was tenting in his tight grey briefs, a spot of precum showing through. When he was done he stood there, body tensed like he was standing on a bodybuilding stage letting John drink him in. He was massive but had nice definition; the off season roided look was John’s favourite. His shoulders were extremely wide with big round delts. Sitting on top of his shoulders were gigantic, thick round traps that were bulging on either side of his 20 inch neck. John could see huge lats flaring out on his sides causing his arms to hang outward instead of down. They were so wide it made his waist look small even though John could tell it was thickly muscled. He looked like he had at least an 8 pack and his waist was nicely bulging with the beginning of an HGH belly. His obliques were so thick the gaps looked like they could fit John’s entire hand. His chest was wide and massive with undulating rock hard pecs. The smallest movement would make his chest twitch and ripple. His massive tree trunk legs balanced out his frame. John could see deep grooves separating each individual muscle making him look like a living anatomy chart. "You need to get more comfortable." Alex commanded as he moved closer to John and started taking his clothes off until he was down to his pants, like Alex. John’s massive erection was screaming against his cotton underwear and Alex grabbed onto it with both hands and started stroking it lovingly. His own erection was the crowning glory of his thick muscular body. It was so pumped that the briefs material was stretching away from his body, creating a gap between the waist band and his blocky abs. "I think we need some oil" he let go of John's erection, opened his bag and pulled out a little bottle of oil, handing it to John. "Rub me with this." he ordered. John wasted no time pouring it into his hand and started rubbing him all over. He loved how Alex’s skin was like supple calf leather stretched tight over grainy rock. John was in heaven feeling every inch of Alex’s hard physique. Not even flexing Alex’s muscles were still hard. "Oh my god your muscles are magnificent. Your arms look like they could be as big as another bodybuilders legs." He said as he tried to wrap his hands around Alex’s gigantic arm. "John; they are! I think my measurements are closest to Dorian Yates at the peak of his 95 off season right now, when he was in his prime. Except two areas, our height and waist size are different. He was 6 feet and I am 6 foot 3 and my waist is about 36 inches right now." Alex brought his arm up and flexed it, showing it's full size which was breathtaking. "I am proud to say my arms just this week hit the 23 inch mark." John stood there completely in shock by his measurements. It made sense because he could see Alex was huge, but hearing his size just stopped him in his tracks. "When I was 16 I already had really nicely developed arms that measured 12 inches with a nice little bicep peak. I started training serious and grew about an inch a year. I never plateaued and still feel like I can grow even more.” He flexed a most muscular, letting out an intimidating groan. “I don’t know. I must have good genetics or something. What do you think?” He flexed an arm up in front of John’s face who was taking in every detail. Alex rubbed some of the oil off his body and grabbed ahold of John’s erection again, stroking it up and down with long strokes working the oil in through the cotton fabric. Alex pinched the front of John’s oily, pre cummed underwear with one hand then both. He pulled apart and ripped the front open like it was tissue paper. John’s dick sprung out, leaking another glob of precum. "I want to flex for you John, but I need a good pump first, will you help me?" he asked staring down into John’s eyes with an alluring power. "Y..Yes!" John stammered. "Call me your Giant Muscle Bull. I think it is fitting." he ordered. "Yes my Giant Muscle Bull!" John responded. Alex stood up straight and covered his face with the remains of John’s briefs. He took a deep breath, held it in, then let out a deep, powerful sigh. He repeated this three times, while rubbing his cock on the outside of his own underwear with his thick thumb. He threw the remains of John’s briefs on the floor and layed on his belly in push up position. "I need more weight for my pump, lay on my back while I do a couple of sets." John did as he was instructed. He laid on Alex’s back feeling the incredibly hard muscles beneath him. His cock slid nicely between Alex’s hard butt cheeks over his sweat drenched underwear, and he could feel him tightening and loosening giving the most incredible sensation through his dick. It was like Alex was giving him a hand job with his butt. He put his hands on Alex’s massive shoulders to steady himself as he started pumping up and down with slow controlled reps. It was like some new incredible sex position John had never done as he rode this muscle beast up and down. His butt flexed with every exertion continuing the incredible feeling on John’s cock. After 20 reps he paused. John took this opportunity to feel around his arms and shoulders, amazed by the hardness. Alex moaned underneath him at the sensation of the smaller man massaging his muscles. "Mmmm...that feels so good, I love it when you touch me." he said breathlessly. John rested his face between the two massive trap muscles and not being able to resist anymore started to kiss them uncontrollably. Alex moaned with pleasure at being kissed and worshiped. "Hold on tight for another set baby." he said. With no hesitation he raised them up again starting slow and building speed. John took his advice and wrapped his arms around Alex so that his hands came underneath. He cupped his massive pec muscles with his hands and held on tight. The feeling of Alex’s rock hard chest under his hands and the way his cock was being rubbed by Alex’s cotton covered butt was beginning to prove too much for John, who could feel a huge load brewing in his balls. Alex was pumping them both up and down in a smooth rapid pace. His pecs felt like massive boulders with ridges running all along the surface. After some reps he finally stopped and dropped down to his belly again. He began grinding his dick into the floor, the alternative movement squeezing John’s cock even more between the hard butt cheeks. "Hold on tight." he said. With John still on Alex’s back he got to all fours and stood up as if he wasn't carrying a thing. John wrapped his legs around Alex’s waist. He held on tight around Alex’s swelling muscular neck as Alex lowered himself into a squat position and straightened again. John's cock was rubbing up and down with every dip which was enhanced by the oil. Alex did 20 dips with John on his back and showed no sign of slowing down. John was starting to moan as he felt himself getting close to a release. It was like the thick muscles running down the bodybuilder’s back were made to massage John’s cock. Alex must have sensed how excited John was getting and stopped his squats. "Come here baby, let me help you and get an arm workout at the same time." he motioned for him to come around and face him. John was amazed at how effortlessly Alex was able to lift and move him around like he was light as a feather. They kissed once more, enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s arms. They did that for a couple of minutes and then Alex brought him up to readjust. This time he held him so that John was cradled in his huge arms with his cock standing straight up like a flagpole. They paused and stared at each other for a moment, John not quite believing this man could hold him so easily like a child, Alex thrilled to be holding such a grateful worshipper in his arms. It was a curling position for Alex and he lifted John and wrapped his mouth around John’s cock and started sucking while he curled him up and down plunging his cock into his mouth with each rep. After a couple of blissful minutes John started shaking and moaning uncontrollably. Alex stopped the reps. “Where baby? Where do you want to cum?” “Abs, rub me against your abs!” John held himself back. He could have cum any time in the last couple of hours, but these last few seconds were the hardest. Alex knew what to do. He repositioned John against his body in the most loving bearhug, one hand under John’s butt, the other around his body, pushing the smaller man’s cock into the ridge between his blocky abs. He rubbed John’s entire body effortlessly up and down the ridges of his thick hard belly. John grabbed a hold of Alex’s pumped rock hard biceps. “You like that baby? You like these jacked hard muscles??” “Uuuuuuh! UU” John forgot language. He forgot everything but the huge hard muscle man now giving him the biggest orgasm of his life. He blew his initial load and it was so powerful it shot up through the gap between Alex’s thick pecs. Another load of cum oozed out, flowing like lava through the ridges of Alex’s 8 pack. Alex held John tight in his bear hug, enjoying John’s shaking, convulsing body. After a few more seconds he dropped John on the bed and seemed energized by the whole thing. "Oh yeah." he said as he raised his arms up and struck a huge double bicep pose. He looked from one bicep to the other admiring his own body, relishing in the reaction he had just had on the other man. John looked up amazed at the sight before him, as Alex’s cantaloup sized biceps stuck out looking harder than ever. Each bicep had a thick vein that ran along the top and made them look even taller. “350 lbs of rock hard French beef! You wanna touch these muscles again baby??” The sight of his amazing biceps made John hub the last few globs of cum out of his still throbbing cock. He never considered himself a stud in bed, but Alex's amazing body had him so turned on he felt like he could go all night. "Wow, it looks like someone is ready for round 2." Alex said as he was eyeing John’s erect penis. Alex struck another pose, this time bringing his arms down and in front so his traps and pecs were flexing. His chest exploded with shredded muscle forming huge basketball sized mounds. His cleavage pressed tightly together looking like it could crack a walnut. John's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open as he was mesmerized by Alex’s amazing size and development. "Like art?" Alex asked him. "Yes, the most amazing art I have ever seen. You are beautiful my rock hard muscle bull." Alex smiled and struck another pose. He brought his arms over his head and stuck out one of his legs. John didn't know what to look at first. His arms looked even bigger as he put at them on either side of his head. The peaks were bulging out and one of his arms looked bigger than John’s head. He moved his waist around in a sexy slow motion dance flexing his abs and obliques. Each square shaped muscle stuck out in perfect symmetry showing 8 clearly defined abs. Framing them were thick obliques that ran the length of his sides and formed a V down to his now fully pumped dick. The fabric of the tight grey pants had small tears appearing, as his thick muscular cock strained for release. His massive leg was stretched toward John and he could see each quad muscle bulging out causing deep valleys between them. Each muscle was etched with striations that ran up and down showing every muscle fiber in detail. He continued to move from one pose to another giving John the most amazing personal pose down. He moaned and grunted with each pose, getting himself more and more worked up at the power his powerful body was having over his small admirer. "Come to me John and worship my muscles." he commanded. "Yes my Bull" He replied as he stood up to join him. His massive erection was standing straight up as he stood next to Alex. Alex continued to pose for him as John eagerly started to caress and feel him all over driving his cock into Alex’s powerful thighs and obliques. His body was as hard as it looked. John’s hands glided over the smooth oiled skin feeling every detail. They were moaning in unison as each of them were aroused by the other. John thrust his cock against Alex’s tenting grey briefs. They were now soaking wet with sweat and the cum of both men. Alex moaned as he allowed himself to finally flex his cock. As they pressed their bodies together and started to grind, Alex nearly climaxed; his thick muscular dick stood to full attention. He tore off the remains with his hands as he had with John’s. He grabbed the back of John’s head and rubbed the briefs over John’s face. “Take that in baby! Smell your big strong muscle bull’s manly stench. Does it turn you on?” John nodded and moaned, his hands reaching out for Alex’s body to steady himself. Alex threw the pants to the side and John started to kiss Alex all over his body, running his tongue along the deep grooves that his huge muscles formed. The more into his body he got the more Alex responded. It was like he was giving Alex an orgasm without intercoarse as he was roaring for more. "Your muscles are so beautiful and hard!" John said between kisses. Alex responded with an orgasmic moan. He was precumming hard now as he was begging for John to continue. He was flexing harder than ever now, relishing the feeling of hands worshipping his thick dense muscle. His eyes were closed as a feeling of ecstasy washed over his whole body. "Taste me! Touch me!" he demanded. John was kissing Alex’s chest which was exploding with muscle, his huge nipples were engorged and hard. John’s arms were reaching around Alex, holding on to his rock hard glutes so he could grind into him harder. “NNgh.. AAAAAAAaaaaaaargh! FUCK” Alex boomed as his muscular cock exploded cum all over his small worshipper. Alex, who was still moaning aggressively, let out a final thick volley of cum. As he came down from his orgasm, he reached down and started to stroke John's cock. Then, he reached round and grabbed John’s butt. Lifting the smaller man off the floor, he rubbed John’s dick all around his rock hard obliques. He threw John down on the bed and climbed on top of him, letting his weight crush his admirer, feeling their cocks rub against one another. John continued praising his muscles which Alex loved. Alex would flare his lats out so that John could grab onto them like handles. Then he would pinch Alex’s shoulder blades together which would cause all the muscles to bunch up forming a mountain range down the middle. They were orgasming again, not being able to control their desire for each other. Alex was grunting uncontrollably at the peak of another orgasm as John was building to another big release. "I'm cumming!" John yelled with a shaky voice. His hips were thrusting up and into Alex as hard and fast as possible, Alex’s massive 350lbs of muscle providing the most wonderful resistance. Their twitching cocks exploded against each other. Alex reached down and wrapped his big strong hand around both cocks, gently rubbing them both. "I love your cock. I want to feel it grow in my mouth." Alex said. The mere mention of the fact that Alex loved his cock was causing John’s cock to start growing again. Alex moved down and placed John’s semi hard dick in his mouth. Alex moaned in response to his cock filling his mouth. He started licking John’s shaft like a lollipop. "You're just so amazing, I can't contain myself." John responded. He felt like a stud having just cummed twice and already fully erect again. Alex couldn't get enough of sucking his cock as he licked him all over and was moaning with pleasure. Reluctantly he finally took one last suck and started working up the length of John’s body, crawling like a cat on the prowl. His massive body loomed over John as he stared down at him with his amazing hazel eyes. Everytime he looked at John with those piercing eyes it was like time was standing still, he was temporarily paralyzed by their beauty. Alex leaned in and the two shared a passionate kiss. John started to explore Alex’s shoulders and arms as he held himself above him. Everytime he touched Alex he was in sheer awe by his size. "I want to please you my giant muscle bull. I want to make you orgasm again." He begged, realizing Alex had made him cum twice now and he wanted badly to return the favor again "I already have twice my sweet baby, but I would love more attention." he said and rolled off him to lay on his back to allow John to do whatever he wanted. John climbed on Alex and started to kiss all over his chest and fondle his hard pecs. His nipples were still hard as he licked and sucked them all over. As he was fondling his pecs he marveled at how much bigger they were than he realized. Alex loved all the attention and was moaning with pleasure. He reached down and slid his fingers round his dick and started to masturbate. Alex pulled John’s head against his chest as he started to build toward another climax. He was a sexual machine as he begged him to keep sucking his nipples. In no time he was grunting and moaning as another orgasm began to brew in his body. He was breathing heavy now causing his abs to flex and harden showing his incredible development. John ran his hands along Alex’s sides feeling the ripples of his hard obliques as he ran his tongue down the deep valley between his bulging roided abs. John was moaning with delight as he kissed all over Alex’s hard stomach. Alex loved it and was going wild with ecstasy. “John, come up here” Alex started “talk in my ear” Alex was furiously beating off, getting close to cumming again. John was happy to obey his instructions. He talked intently into Alex’s ear as he continued to feel the bodybuilder’s chest and abs. “Alex. You’re my big thick muscle bull and you turn me on so much” John said, as he grinded his dick into Alex’s body “I love feeling your huge muscles and rubbing my dick against your bull body” “Hhnnnnnggh..” Alex had never been this turned on in his life “When you put your arms around me, I know you could crush me with your immense power and strength. You’re so strong and it makes me wanna cum all over you” “Fuuuuuuck YES! Keep going” “On the plane, I was precumming at the sight of you strong hands crush those armrests like they were nothing. I loved looking down at our legs. Yours are double the size of mine. I love licking them and tasting you manly sweat. I love feeling your 350lb frame on top of me. Your lumpy muscles pressing into my weak body. You make me feel like a small boy standing next to the biggest muscle daddy. I love smelling the testosterone leak out with your sweat as you jack off. I love worshipping my big hard bodybuilder” "OH FUCK...YEES! Suck it, SUCK IT" Alex growled out as his ecstasy hit another level. John moved down and placed his mouth around Alex’s pulsating cock, feeling it pump and swell against his tongue and cheeks. Alex reached down and held his head steady as he started to buck uncontrollably into John’s mouth. He was moaning as if possessed, waves of pleasure spreading through his body. John felt his entire throat and mouth fill with shot after shot of ropey cum. Alex’s body juddered and shook as he let out an almighty roar. He had never felt a sensation like this sweet new man had provided. "Uuuuuuuh!! Come here baby." Alex beckoned for him with open arms. John crawled up and the two embraced in a passionate kiss. "You are the perfect man!" John exclaimed. "You are MY perfect man!" Alex responded. They continued kissing with renewed vigor. An unbelievable bond was forming between the couple, the closest thing to love that could be formed in less than 24 hours. Alex’s hand came to rest on John's butt as he spread his legs open to draw him in. John's fully erect and eager penis slid up against Alex’s as the two became one. John lay on Alex, completely spent, his dick throbbing into a semi again as Alex continued to hold him with his massive arms. John felt so safe and content as his full weight lay on top of Alex’s body. "That was the most incredible sex I have ever experienced." Alex admitted. "Me too, you are the most amazing man I have ever met." John replied. They laid like that for a while completely content until they finally had to get up to clean themselves off. "You know you are staying the night here right?" John said to Alex as he was washing his hands looking at his magnificent reflection in the mirror. "Yes my baby." Alex said as he wrapped his arms around John pulling him into a tight embrace. Later they were cuddled in bed, Alex was on his back with one arm around John, the other occasionally flexing or caressing his new lover’s face. John was draped over him with his head on Alex’s chest. They were content laying there enjoying each others touch. Alex broke the silence. "I am really glad you asked me to stay, I have never felt such an amazing connection with anyone like this." "I feel so lucky to have you with me. You are smart and handsome and driven" John said with admiration. Alex chuckled and squeezed him. They looked in each others eyes and shared a deep passionate kiss. "You are the man of my dreams. I have always fantasized about a man who would love my body like you do and worship my muscles. In case you hadn't noticed I get really turned on by the way you react to my body." Alex admitted. "Then we get to fulfill each other's fantasies my bull. You said you still haven't plateaued, how big do you want to get?" John asked. "As big as possible." he said, giving John another kiss.
  9. 25 points
    Chapter 9 Back in my office, I spent the morning tackling the work I’d fallen behind on. It felt like seconds later my cell phone buzzed. A quick look at the time showed me that hours had actually passed. Because of the morning I’d been having, I assumed it was Mo, but it was Oz. I had been distant and evasive all weekend, so I expected him to be angry or hurt. Surprisingly, though, it was a picture of a bird perched on a telephone pole. Right after the first text came a second one, saying, “Saw this and thought of you.” Then it hit me; the bird was a woodpecker. Wow—it was cute and as close to dirty as Oz got. I was a little impressed. Before I could respond, he sent another text, saying, “I miss you. Sorry I was so busy this weekend.” Dammit. He blamed himself for this weekend, when I’d been dodging his calls. I wasn’t in the headspace to say anything profound or witty, so I sent back a heart eyes emoji. My phone buzzed again. This time it was from Mo. He’d sent me a picture of himself holding his new employee ID badge with the text “I’m in!” I put my phone to the side. And then I felt it again. That warming, fraying, energetic feeling all over my body. I’d felt it when I grew on Friday. I jumped to my feet as quickly as I could. I was growing again. I felt it first this time in my shoulders. It felt as though I was stretching wider and wider, like I would for a big yawn, but I was standing perfectly still. At the same time, I felt the same stretching in the base of my spine—an odd, mildly pleasant, tingling sensation. Soon enough, I felt the same stretching and sparkling sensation in my legs and feet. I wasn’t just getting more muscular: I was getting taller. My clothes fit seductively that morning. Now, my shoes were a size too small, and these clothes looked comically wrong. My wrists and ankles were all poking out from my clothes, and the clothes clung a little more tightly. I should’ve borrowed some clothes from Mo. Trying to steady myself by balancing on my desk, I fell forward a little bit. The desk was significantly lower than I was used to it being. The desk usually lined up with my hips, but now my hip was just higher than the desk. But that wasn’t the end of the changes. As soon as I’d reached the full new height I’d attained, the electric thrill ran deeper into my muscles. I felt the strength, the sheer power, coursing into my body. My shoulders rounded out and pushed my shirt, taxing the seams. My necktie began choking me, so I loosened it, just in time to watch my collar button pop free. My neck had gotten so thick that I popped a button. Not to be outdone, my chest rounded out. I now had two separate and meaty pecs. My ID badge, in my shirt pocket, cut into my flesh, and two more buttons flew off my shirt, emancipated by my enlarged chest. Raising my arms to instinctively feel my new chest, I felt resistance like I never had before. My arms had grown so thick with muscle that the shirt left no room for me to flex. My arm was encased like a sausage, but the beef was my beef. Even though my clothes restricted my movement, I could still reach to feel my abs and was delighted to feel six firm, hard, etched muscles. Before I could revel in that, my pants cut into me painfully. Too thick with muscle, my waist could no longer fit the smaller belt setting, so, I loosened it. More so than that, my legs now looked like serious legs. My thighs bowed out on the sides, swelling with might the way a real bodybuilder’s would. My knees looked like the neck of an hourglass, as my calves had also grown impressive—hard as brick and threatening to snap the cuffs of my pant legs as they rode up. I had been so preoccupied by my thighs that I almost forgot to check out my ass. Rounder. Harder. More prominent. I had no idea how I was going to sit back down my ass had grown so gloriously massive. My entire essence was turning me on. That’s when I noticed my cock tingling too. Thickening and lengthening, I could feel my cock unspool until it took up more space in my boxers than I’d ever felt. I could see it pressing on the front of my pants, only a thin swatch of fabric separating it from my zipper. Then the tingling moved downwards just slightly, and my balls, already overfull, grew weightier and more ponderous as they engorged. My faint cock outline became an obvious cock outline as my entire bulge was thrust forward by my muscular legs. The image was so hot, so entirely erotic, that I felt my cock growing again. Only this time, it was the more familiar sensation of an erection. The teeth of my zipper began to separate one by one. I had to take care of this right now. No one would notice my growth, but they’d definitely notice me masturbating. To keep myself hidden, I strutted to my door, led by my turgid but still trapped cock. I locked the door and lowered the blinds. Secure that I was alone, I went back to my desk and but my garbage can in the middle of the floor, leaned over it, and rolled down my pants. I had to do it slowly so as to not ruin my pants—I still needed them to get through the day—but when my cock swung free, I felt a joyous euphoria radiate through my body. My cock was a monument. I had never been small, but I must have been over an inch longer than I’d ever had before. And with length came thickness. The appendage jutting from my crotch felt like a loaded weapon, and I the fighter pilot, ready to fire. With thoughts like that flying through my head, it took mere seconds before I was afire with such a deep, abiding orgasm that my whole body echoed. So shaken to the core was I that I let loose a string of vulgarity even I didn’t know was in my vocabulary. While dealing with a mind-shattering orgasm, I was bursting with jizz. It was hard to aim for the garbage can. I was not used to this angle—neither pitch nor yaw—but necessity is a fast teacher. Five over-full volleys of cum sprayed from my cock. I didn’t know I could hold that much cum in my body, let alone expel it through my cock. The intensity of the eruption was almost enough to tip me back over into a second orgasm. Thankfully, though, the torrent subsided, and I grabbed a handful of tissues from my desk to stop a few rogue drops of cum from rolling down to my boxers. I had never ejaculated so copiously in my life. Regardless, I was hoping that was an anomaly and not an indication of what was to become my new normal. I had expected a normal crop of cum, which could easily be hidden in a trash can, but this was far too much. I couldn’t leave this in my office for some poor janitor to find, so I put my cock away and brought the trash can with me to the men’s room. Unceremoniously, I flushed my outpouring down the drain and stumbled back into the main bathroom. Still flush with afterglow, I noticed that my five o’clock shadow was back. My face had also refined further into a more masculine, rugged visage, like one I would see on a fitness magazine. My chest was so large that my nipples poked through the fabric. I don’t know if they were hard or simply larger, but either way, the effect was erotic. As my top three buttons had been obliterated, I could see that my chest hair had thickened and spread. I pulled open the last few buttons, and watched as my chest hair spread out to my armpits, where I could feel the hair growing thicker, and down to my treasure trail drove straight down the canyon of my pecs, through the ravines of my gorgeous six pack, right down to a fuller bush. Looking at myself in the mirror, in the pit of my stomach, I could feel it. That orgasm, that orgasm that would have killed a lesser man, had barely taken my edge off. Right then and there, I wanted to fuck.
  10. 24 points
    Chapter 13 Quincy melted under my touch. I leaned over him, completely encasing his whole body with mine, overwhelming his small stature. In the crook of my right arm, I cradled his head. With my left, I reached under his knees and lifted him out of the desk chair. “Careful,” he said. “I’ve never been with anyone before. I’ve never…” he searched for words, “done it.” I smiled at his innocence and lifted him higher. The boy weighed practically nothing. He curled into my body, burying his face in the area where my bicep and pec were fighting for room by my armpit. I shifted his body until I was holding him entirely with my right arm, and then strode across the room to lock the door. Holding him there, I lifted his shirt, revealing his frail, hairless, birdlike torso. I began covering his chest with feather-soft kisses. With my free hand, I slowly unbelted and unzipped him, lowering his pants to reveal an equally demure lower half. Even his legs were downy soft, barely growing any hair. His dick hardened to its full length, barely five inches. With a slight sneer, I put him on top of my desk, and began disrobing myself. When I revealed my massive, hairy chest, he swooned. When I freed my thick, powerful legs from their cloth confines, his dick bobbed appreciatively. When I released my rock-hard 8.5-inch cock, his own dick began dribbling pre. I brought my leg up until it was even with his. Beside his twig-like legs, my massive thigh looked like a mighty tree trunk, thick and strong. I held up my arm to his. Even unflexed, my arm showed him how small and thin his own excuse for an arm was. My forearm was thicker than his bicep. Then I flexed, and my arm exploded, twice the size of his paltry limb. I lifted him off the desk again and held his sunken chest up to my own bulging, convex pec muscles. Then, I put him back on the desk and held my cock next to his—the coup de grace. Wordlessly, he began shuddering, and a spurt of cum drizzled out of the end of his cock. I pointed to my own cock, and he dove off the desk and began sucking and licking and caressing every square centimeter of it. He had trouble getting the head into this mouth, but once he did, he began servicing me so intensely that his face turned red and he began glowing with sweat. His tongue ministered to the head of my cock with precision and gusto. Just as I was about to grant him his reward of my copious seed, we were on the other side of my desk, both fully dressed, my hand still touching the back of his neck. The only difference now was that I was painfully erect, my cock easily noticeable through the fabric of my paints, leaking a steady stream. And I was seconds from blowing. Quincy withdrew from my touch, flinching as if I was about to strike him. “I’m going to have to take this back to the IT department, Mr. Myers. This computer is deader than dead. I can’t even get it to turn on here. If you need it, I can get you a loaner computer in less than fifteen minutes. I can take your phone too if you want, but I can’t do anything here. So, if it’s alright with you…” He turned around to try to make eye contact with me, but instead saw my wet cock bulge greeting him. When he saw its sheer length and girth pressed in the confines of my pants, that close to his face, Quincy’s words failed him. His breath caught in his throat, and he nearly froze. Not sure how to get out of this situation, I lied. “I was talking to my husband when my phone died. He’s been out of the country for six months. And I miss him.” Accepting the lie, Quincy grabbed my work computer and my phone, and hightailed it out of the room before he did something he regretted. Once Quincy had gone, I locked the door behind him, fully intent on taking care of my erection before I did something I regretted. No sooner was I alone in my office then I felt a familiar buzzing all over my body. Fully aware of what was about to happen, I quickly whipped off my tie and undid my collar button. I was in no mood to strangle myself. That done, I leaned with my back against my door, and felt the electricity surge deeply into my muscles. I could feel my back and ass swell, pushing me further away from the door. My legs, already filling my pants, swelled further, testing their limits. The fabric stretched further and further as my legs grew thicker and thicker until my pants were practically exploding. At the same time, my shoulders became more prominent, taking my shirt with them, pulling at the cloth until I could feel a tear forming between my shoulder blades. My expanding lats further tugged at the fabric, and I heard a small ripping noise. This shirt was too narrow for me now; I had grown wider than a shirt that I would have found comically large a week ago. Not to be outdone, my pecs inflated forward, spreading the front until a button popped, even despite the release of pressure the tear in the back had caused. My chest felt heavy—I could feel the weight of my pecs pulling me forward. At the same time, my back was equally weighty. The whole counterbalancing resulted in me standing up ramrod straight. My arms then drew my attention to them. Already pushed away from my body by my lats, my arms grew thicker, stress-testing the limits of my already twice-torn shirt. My forearms even swelled until they were near bursting out of my sleeves. The fabric was actually cutting off the circulation to my hands. Unable to bear it, I flexed my most intense double bi, and my sleeves ripped right down the middle, freeing my arms. My husband, my big bear of a husband, outweighed me by over 50 pounds when he wore these clothes. They were too big for him since he shed a few pounds, and I had just exploded out of them. I was bigger than Oz. At that, my cock erupted, filling the inside of my pants with cum without me ever having touched myself. I breathed raggedly for a few seconds, naively thinking the change was over, so I looked down at the damage. That’s when I realized the buzzing hadn’t finished. What happened next beggars description. My muscles continued growing, on a much smaller scale, but my definition became much more apparent. Striations formed in my chest, veins climbed to the surface of my arms and shoulders, and my abs etched so intensely that my stomach looked like plated armor. My waist nipped in just a little bit, and my thighs flared just a little, rounding out, finally causing the seams of my pants to tear. Through the cloth that still clung to my legs, I could see the same striations and veins appearing on my legs. At the same time, my face felt warm. I looked into the reflective glass of the nearby picture frame, and I could see that my face had become more etched, more severe. I hadn’t gotten any hairier. I hadn’t gotten any more hung. I hadn’t gotten any taller. I’d just gotten bigger. I had torn through my clothes, I had cum all down my leg (I could even feel it pooling in my sock), and I had no way of contacting anyone because my phone and computer were dead.
  11. 23 points
    Pete and Henry had been smoking some weed over the last few hours. They were going through their stash and enjoying every bit of it. But then they’d gotten to a special one. Or at least that’s what the guy behind the counter said. Since they’d been such ‘loyal customers’ he’d told them and had thrown this one in with it. Then said it was something really special but they needed to wait until they were already high for it to really show off its effects. Otherwise it wouldn’t have worked as well. “Ready for the big one?” Hank asked as he pulled the last of their stash out of the bag. “No way dude… We gotta have more,” Pete dug into the bag looking for something else but there wasn’t anything else in there. “Damn… didn’t think the night would be over already.” “Maybe it’s real good?” Hank offered. He pulled out his lighter and lit up the end of the blunt. It started smoking at the end and he quickly inhaled on it, holding the smoke inside his lungs. Slowly he breathed back out and passed it over to Pete. “Feel anything?” Pete asked as he did the same. “Not yet…” Hank complained. But the buzz slowly started to take him over. He let out a couple of uncontrolled laughs and then tried to calm them down. “Maybe a little something…” he smirked. Saying the little bit of something seemed to have triggered something more as he felt it start to distort his mind. “Woah…” His body waved back and forth. “This shits strong… Just takes a bit to get started.” “Guess so,” Pete agreed as he felt his mind go too. They looked around the kitchen and quickly got some water out of the fridge. Hank saw a bottle of orange juice and started laughing. “What’s so funny?” Pete asked. “I don’t know…” Hank continued laughing. “Just that you got some juice in your fridge. You know it’s just how those guys get so big.” “What are you talking about? You sound so stupid right now,” Pete said. “No way dude. That’s why it’s called the juice. Cause it’s juice,” Hank kept laughing. Pete felt himself laughing too at the repeated word. Even if they’d done weed a lot in the past they’d never felt this high it like this. It was like reality was warping around them “So what yer tellin me is if I drink this juice I’ll be like one of those big dumb horny jocks.” “Yeah man,” Hank agreed. A smirk crept on Pete’s face. “Alright man,” he pulled the bottle back and started to take a drink from it. It tasted so good all of a sudden. But then it started to happen. His muscles started to grow. His extra weight started to tighten up into thick corded muscle. He tipped the bottle back even further, letting more of the liquid down into his throat. “Dude…” Hank stared in awe. His mouth hung slightly open as he watched his friend grow. “It was just supposed to be a stupid joke…” But with each swallow, Pete seemed to gain another few pounds of muscle. His XL shirt started to pull tightly against the firming muscles. Thick biceps filled the top of his arms while his forearms grew to match. He could easily hold the bottle in one hand as his fingers lengthened and thickened to fit around it better. Two huge pecs pushed out in front of him teasing the tension of the shirt even more. Trap appeared on his shoulders, raising the shirt to show off his solid adonis belt and bottom two abs. But he didn’t stop growing. With the widening of his shoulders and the growing size of his arms it was impossible for the fabric to hold together. Small tears started to form. They quickly doubled in size filling the room with a loud continuous ripping sound as more and more of the fabric tore apart. They couldn’t contain the massive amount of man underneath it. “Damn,” Pete took a breath after finishing off the bottle of orange juice. His voice was deeper and the caydence gave off a more confident sound. Even if he did speak a bit slower. “Shit, that really hit the spot.” “Dude! You’re fucking huge!” Hank admired. “Yeah?” Pete looked down at his shirtless body and ran his large hand over the smooth muscles. “Guess so… And so fucking horny…” He pulled out his dick and started playing with it. The long thick rod had doubled in size and even with the added size to his hand it was hard to use just one. “Dude!” Hank turned away. “What? It turning you on too much?” “No!” Hank didn’t know why it felt like it was a lie. Then again maybe it’s because his own was starting to get hard. He could feel it in his jeans as it ran down his leg. “You’re such a little bitch. Just get over here. I know you want it…” Pete turned to the side and slid his hand slowly down the long shaft. Hank shook his head. He couldn’t get the dick out of his mind. “What’s going on?” he questioned but the thought stayed. “C’mon you little bitch,” Pete demanded. His tone was more serious. “I know you love the feeling of my cock inside you. You get so horny when I’m around you. All you can think about is me fucking you.” The commands started to become true. Hank could feel his mind warping to them. The longer he stared at Pete’s muscular body the more he wanted the other man’s cock inside him. He could feel his hands starting to please himself. “What’s going…” but Hank was already on his knees with Pete’s massive cock in his face. “Go on. All of it,” he commanded. “I know you can take it.” Hank opened his mouth with and felt the giant rod push inside him. He could feel it fill his mouth and then press up against the back of his throat. No longer did he have a gag reflex as it pushed even deeper inside him. Hank looked up to Pete for some kind of support but could only see the massive pectoral shelf above him. However, one of Pete’s hands gripped the back of Hank’s head, slowly goading him into more. Hank could feel himself playing with Pete’s cock as though he was a master. And based off the deep primal grunts and groans coming from the man, he might as well have been one. He loved hearing the uncontrolled sounds coming from the other man as he tried his best not to cum. Then all at once he felt it. The hot fluid hit him in the back of the throat and he quickly swallowed. It didn’t seem to matter how much was shot into him, Hank greedily swallowed it. “Woah man…” Pete said as he back off. His cock softened but it was still dangling far down his legs. “That’s some pretty good shit…”
  12. 21 points
    “You never know when a chance like this is going to come along, do you?” “I beg your pardon?” Sam couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed the beefy stud leaning against the pole on the side of the bike path when he stopped to fix his slipped chain. This was the third time today that the bloody thing had come undone. Marco, however, had noticed Sam before he had even stopped – when he was pedaling down the path from the direction of Malibu. The ‘gaydar’ of both men was instantly shooting off the charts. An unspoken understanding naturally connected them. It felt like you had just put on a warm jacket in the middle of winter. “Your bike, breaking down right here. Right in front of me.” “I don’t really believe in the idea of fate . . . you know, a pre-determined course of events.” “Ah, I see, but do you believe in seizing opportunities if they come when least expected. Are you one of those people that can be ‘in the moment’ and see a potential path unfolding even before it does?” “Who knew stopping to fix the chain on my bike would lead to such a philosophical conversation.” Sam immediately liked the banter. This guy wasn’t just a pretty pair of pecs and veiny biceps. He had a personality. He briefly worried that the man might be a hustler – the package seemed just too perfect to be a random conversation. Sam pushed the thought out of his mind – he decided he should just be ‘in the moment.’ Marco had anticipated the tall, lanky, nicely muscled, dirty-blonde biker would be interesting. There had been something about the intensity of his pedaling and his furrowed brow as he zoomed up the path. “Life is like a box of chocolates…” “You nevuh know what you’re gonna git.” “That southern accent sounds authentic.” “I’m originally from Tennessee.” “I’m originally from Los Angeles.” “I can tell.” “How can you tell?” “Those biceps weren’t grown in Toledo. Trust me, that body is authentically Californian. And all natural, I might add.” “How do you know that?” “I’m in pharmaceuticals. I know the difference between store-bought muscles and those made the good old-fashioned way. It’s a gift that helps me at dinner parties – or gets me in trouble.” “Not into all that fake stuff, huh?” “I’m not one to be impressed by ‘stuff’ – and it seems, to me, if you have to add stuff to your body the way you might stock your wardrobe, then chances are you’re not going to be too authentic. I’m into natural. Chemically enhanced vegetables tend to lose a lot of their flavor. The same thing can happen to a guy, too.” “Listen to you, our little Tennessean philosopher.” “Another gift that rarely makes me popular at dinner parties.” “You seem to go to a lot of those . . . dinner parties.” “I’m perpetually making tables even out – the forever pitied single friend.” “Why is that, Mr. Tennessee?” “People say I’m too picky. Too cynical. Too OCD. Too demanding. Too detached. Take your pick.” “Could it be . . . you’re just waiting.” “For what? My fate? Remember, I’m not one to believe that just around the corner is my destiny sitting on a nice romantic white horse.” “Why is it always a white horse?” “Not sure – if it’s somehow supposed to signify purity I’m afraid I’m not buying into that fantasy. Give me a dark beast over that any day. And what about you? Single?” “As solo as they come, I’m happy to say.” “Why is that happy?” “Let’s just say it leaves me open to opportunities. It helps me live ‘in the moment’.” “Annnnnd we’re back to being philosophical.” “Or something like that. Maybe more like metaphorical.” Sam looked up from his squatting position beside the bike. Both men stared at each other without breathing for a few seconds. The euphoria that comes from easy flirtation overwhelmed both of them. Marco marveled at how simple it was sometimes for a conversation to float into undercurrents that stirred the loins. He found Mr. Tennessee charming even if he was on a Schwinn instead of a white horse. Sam was the first to break the magical moment. “I bet you’re popular at dinner parties, though. You have the perfect build for it.” “I’m really more of a backyard BBQ kind of guy. Being shirtless suits me more than dressing up.” “I can see why.” “Thanks for the compliment. I actually didn’t think you were that impressed, Mr. Tennessee.” “Why’s that?” “You didn’t stare at me like I was a piece of beef being offered to a pack of wolves. As a matter of fact, you didn’t stare at all – only glanced.” “Traps for days, rounded pecs dusted with gorgeous fur, bulging biceps with thick veins snaking across them, a washboard stomach just screaming for laundry, sexy hard-bristled beard that doesn’t fully connect with the handsome mustache, a thick bottom lip just ripe for chewing, charcoal bedroom eyes, and a lovely watch. Staring is overrated. I say learn how to notice details quickly.” “Man, you could be a spy.” “Maybe I am.” Eyes locked again. The stirring in the groin had gotten even more noticeable for both men. Marco kept looking for some flaw to reveal itself in the man before him. He carefully looked for something that would signal the guy was a psychopath or, even worse, an actual total bore. At the same time, Sam was waiting for dialogue that would expose deeply rooted narcissistic tendencies that usually came with a body like the one before him. The back of his mind also kept expecting the conversation to smoothly move to the topic of payment and the fact that credit cards were not accepted. It was just a fact that both men knew that banter like this was frequently too good to be true. This kind of immediate attraction was only available in chick-flicks or hazy, alcohol-influenced, bar hookups that turn into ‘what the hell was I thinking’ mornings. Today had been just a regular Saturday for both men until that glorious chain had slipped. “I like details. Especially when they are very handsome details.” Normally, Marco would find a line like that very cheesy, but it wasn’t out of place coming from this gorgeous Tennessean. The guy had returned to working on his bike and Marco could see it hadn’t been a really bad pick-up line. The tall guy had just been speaking honestly. This realization made the compliment so genuine – so authentic. “You want some help with that chain, man?” “No thanks, I’ve got it, but having lunch with you would be nice.” “Funny, I was thinking the same thing. I’m Marco.” “I’m Sam. Don’t squeeze my hand too hard. A firm grip turns me on.” Marco had held out his hand for a shake and he immediately knew that Sam’s request was, in fact, an invitation for the well-built man to squeeze Sam’s hand as hard as he wanted . . . so he did. Sam winced and let out a soft moan at the same time. His tall lanky body shivered a little. This thrilled Marco, so he held the tight grip even longer than was normally acceptable. In turn, Sam got a little wobbly in the knees and light-headed. Sam also took a moment to glance at the vein snaking down Marco’s left biceps, a particular fetish of the Tennessean. It enhanced the overall effect of the handshake even more. Marco gripped even tighter right before he let go. “A handshake like that will get me to do almost anything.” “Right now, I’m hoping it will just get you to the lunch table.” “It will. Let me guess, you’re a vegan.” “It’s funny how some people assume that just because I have a six-pack I don’t like hamburgers.” “Well, to be fair, bodies like yours are not easily created if all you ate were hamburgers.” “True. Let’s just say I work out enough to make it possible for me to eat whatever I like. And you . . . a tall, trim biker could be a vegan, too.” “That’s true, as well. Tennesseans don’t tend to be vegan, though. I do like my salads, but I like meat, as well.” “And how do you like your meat, Sam?” “Packed hard and bulging.” It was unclear who had started this particular vein of banter. Both men had easily skipped down the flirtatious raunchy path – intending to show the other man that they weren’t these uptight straight-laced guys you often met. This time, the staring between them was more intense . . . more direct. It was as if an unspoken barrier had been passed. It was clear that this day would not end with just the meal. This knowledge eased unseen tension, dissolved doubt, and opened up a whole new avenue of interaction. The spark was now a raging flame. “Your eyes are bluer than the sky, Mr. Tennessee.” “And your pecs look firmer than concrete, Mr. California.” Marco knew this was an indication that he should somehow show off his chest, so he obligingly rolled the protruding mounds of beef up and down a few times, enjoying the pleasure his show gave the tall lanky dude in front of him. The thought of skipping lunch and going straight for sex entered the mind of both men at almost the exact same moment. There was so much ‘connection’ in the air and morning exercise had energized both men to a point of needing much release. However, the nudging thought that there was something much more than just a primal tug between them, made each man long for more and they both refused to give into immediate gratification. They knew good things come to those who wait. “I’m thinking I might need some stamina this afternoon, Sam, so how about a hamburger at Shakes and Burgers up the bike path a little.” “I like that place. It sounds perfect.” They started walking in the direction of the restaurant. Sam was pushing his bike and Marco walked on the other side. Marco reached around to his back pocket and pulled out the tank top that dangled there. He started to put it on, but Sam cleared his throat loudly and shook his head no when the chiseled bodybuilder looked in his direction. Marco smiled and returned the shirt to his pocket. The built man breathed in deeply, to make his pecs swell even more and rolled his shoulders back to emphasize his chest. Sam got a good long glance in and then turned to look ahead on the bike path. “You would definitely be a hit a dinner parties.” “You should take me to one, sometime.” “Well, as a matter of fact, I have a get together tonight at the home of one of my best friends and I know he’d be overjoyed if I called and told him I was bringing someone. Adding another plate to a dinner party for thirty is a lot less troublesome than one for, let’s say, six or eight. It’s a fundraiser . . . a very formal affair. I’m sure you’ll look great in your tux.” “That’s pretty presumptuous on two counts, Sam. First, that I’m available to go with you and second, that I own a tux.” “The shoes, the shorts, and the watch immediately tell me you have an impeccable wardrobe at home. A man as neatly groomed and obviously cultured as you would probably have a couple of tuxedos. You are not new to classy affairs. As for the first . . . I’m merely hoping like a kid before Christmas that you’re available. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to want this day to end . . . maybe for a really long time.” “You really might be a spy.” “The pleasure is in the details, Marco. The pleasure is in the details. And what do you say, my handsome beefy friend.” “You’ve clearly also picked up that I’m a sucker for flattery, haven’t you?” “With a body like that, sir, you’d be crazy not to like it.” “I’d be honored to accompany you, Sam. It sounds like an awesome first date.” “Um, second date. We’re going to lunch.” “Okayyyy, second date, if you insist.” “I do. I don’t sleep with anyone on the first date, Marco.” “Oh, well then, tonight will definitely be our second date, then. A man of principles. I like that.” “You like principles, I like muscles. It seems like a match made in heaven.” “It certainly does. And here we are. I’m famished . . . and horny.” “I’m pretty sure this particular establishment will only help you with your first need, Marco.” “You never know, Sam. I’m friends with the owner and he’s a powerlifter. I might just be his type.” “I think you’re everyone’s type, Marco.”
  13. 20 points
    The man wrote the number forty-five on the calendar page sitting on the desk and then circled it three times. He stared at what he had jotted down for a long time. It seemed so far away, but after anticipating that day for so many years, what was another month and a half. Pages were quickly flipped – like a movie scene where you move into the future. The turning stopped on a page that was covered in hand drawn stars and the word ‘retirement’ underlined about seven times. The man’s finger ran across the word lovingly – or hesitantly. And then, just as quickly, the pages were moved back to the present date. General Artemis (Art) David Scala returned to the forms on his desk. Paperwork that required his signature. As he put pen to paper, the desk wobbled, causing the man’s signature to go wildly off the line. An expletive was muttered under his breath and then Art slid back his chair and carefully bent forward to readjust the piece of cardboard that had come loose from under one of the legs. He knew that one false move could make his back go out, which usually caused him to hit his head on the metal piece of furniture he had been battling for seventeen years. Once the cardboard had been wedged in place, the General slowly returned to a sitting position – careful to not twist the wrong way. He glanced at his signature – terribly askew – and contemplated asking his assistant, Private Ron Sanders, to print out another copy of the page, but he realized that this was just his obsessive compulsiveness about things being neat and tidy getting the best of him. He glanced at his clock and saw that it was almost time to go down to the lab. “Ron!” “Yes, General.” “Jesus! You scared me. What were you doing – hanging out by the door?” “Yes sir. I saw what time it was.” Damn, this kid was a great assistant. It almost unnerved the General how Ron could anticipate almost everything that his boss would need – from bringing coffee mere seconds before a request was going to be made to opening the office door right when said coffee had run its course and a bathroom was needed. Coffee did that to the General – well, coffee and his age. A need to pee could come on with little warning, but Ron always seemed to be one step ahead and ready to make the General’s dash always successful. A brawny twenty-one-year-old who’s six-foot frame always made Art feel a little intimidated – even though his uniform had so many stars every soldier on the base snapped to attention in his presence. Ron was definitely the son Art Scala had never had. The General, however, never played favorites and, if asked, Ron probably would have said his boss barely noticed him. That was far from the truth. “I have all those papers, here, for you.” “Yes sir,” the young man said as he stepped to the desk to take the folder. “Any news from the lab?” “I’m afraid so, sir. It seems the tests, today, did not go well. Dr. Brown called the latest round a complete failure and thinks they’ll have to return to the drawing board and start over.” “Damn, damn, damn. I bet that put Martha is a terrible mood. I almost want to skip going down there to talk to her.” Martha Brown was brilliant. Art Scala had personally requested she be hired for this job. She was also as much of a perfectionist as he was. She had been working feverishly for six years to find a way to enhance fossil fuels. To make natural gas – what she called – a hundred times stronger than it already was. She wanted to somehow make it last longer, do more work with less effort, to basically become ‘super’ powered. Another setback in her work would not only be discouraging for her, but it was going to make the Pentagon take a closer look at the continually failed work she was doing. Art knew that in forty-five days he would no longer be here to defend her. Whoever was put in his place would probably side with the powers that be and her project would no longer be funded. “I might as well get this over with. Let’s go to the lab, Ron.” “Yes sir.” Art Scala had turned sixty-eight two weeks ago. He had put off retirement for three years in hopes that Martha Brown would have some success. He knew he couldn’t put it off again. Even at retirement age, the General was what the girls in the front office called ‘a catch.’ He was a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, bull of a man with graying temples that only made him more handsome. He could still command respect just from entering the room, but he also knew his king-of-the-pack days were almost over. It took him a lot longer to recover from a cold, he ached for days after a hard workout, and getting out of bed without any aches and pains was impossible. It was time for some younger buck to take the lead at this base. They were a secret facility out in the middle of a desert that was out in the middle of nowhere. Hell, Art didn’t think he could find the place if he didn’t come and go in a helicopter with an excellent pilot. The General didn’t know what it would be like to live back among civilians – in a regular city. He knew he was going to find out in a few months, though. He paused briefly at the door to the lab. Ron, knowingly, waited for his boss to be ready. With a heavy sigh, the General opened the door and went in – followed by his assistant. “What’s the good news, Martha?” the General said when he saw the red-headed brilliant chemist coming towards him. She had been alone in the lab. “General, don’t patronize me. We both know you already heard we haven’t had success. You have the most efficient assistant on the planet. I will steal him one day. I’m really sorry, Art. You deserve better news.” “Oh Martha, you never were one to beat around the bush, were you. I’m sorry for you. What seemed to be the problem – and don’t use all that chemist jargon I don’t understand. Tell it to me in layman’s terms.” “My perfect enhancement formula doesn’t want to get it on with the fossil fuels. It’s like the football team captain is trying to seduce a devout lesbian that hates athletes. It’s like…” “I get the point,” the General said, smiling. “What if you threw in some alcohol? That always helps opposites attract.” “Not in this case, I’m afraid. I think alcohol would dull the power of the enhancement formula – it might not know how to ‘get it on,’ so to speak.” “Then you start over, Dr. Brown. Isn’t your motto “Now you know,” when something goes wrong?” “Yes, it is,” Martha said, smiling, “But we both know you have limited time here and I won’t have the big scary General to fight all the bureaucratic bullies anymore. I’m wondering if I might skip out before you do.” “Nonsense! Start again. Tonight, if you have too. I believe in you. Let’s keep fighting until we can’t anymore. I leave in forty-five days – that’s a lot of time. And the military might be very slow to replace me. You might even have six months to a year. Back to work, my dear.” “Um, Dr. Brown,” Ron said, after clearing his voice, causing both the General and the doctor to turn toward him with looks of surprise. It wasn’t like Ron to interject with a comment. “Have you tried the enhancement formula on anything else besides fossil fuels?” “Like what, Ron?” Martha asked. “I don’t know . . . supplements, foods . . . animals.” “Well, we have tried it on all of those things and more, except animals. We have not gotten clearance to test this on living things . . . well, except micro-organisms. So far, we’ve batted zero on everything. We did have some organisms that seemed to become different after we mixed the formula with them, but then they just returned to normal. It was very discouraging.” “I see,” said Ron, “Thank you.” “Martha, let’s chat a little about your next plan of attack,” the General said, glancing back at Ron – confused by his interruption. He moved Martha off to the side to chat with her, privately. Ron walked around the lab. He had learned a long time ago when his boss needed him to be invisible. And right now, that’s exactly what Ron wanted. He stood to the side, looking at all the testing materials while the General and the doctor spoke. Soon, the General turned and started to exit. Ron followed. When they were back in the hallway the General turned to his assistant. Ron was nervous that he was in trouble . . . that he had overstepped the boundaries. Artemis Scala put his arm around the younger man’s shoulder – something he had never done before. “How about you and I go have a drink at the Officer’s Club, First Lieutenant?” “I can’t go there, sir…” he began, but then he fully comprehended what the General was saying. “Any officer, approved for his promotion, but waiting for the paperwork, can accompany another officer into the club. Section blah, blah, blah of the official military rules on Officer’s Clubs. It came through today, son. Congratulations. You deserve it. I promised I would get this promotion for you before I left and, by god, I did. At least something good has happened today.” “I’m speechless, sir.” “That would be a first, Ron,” the General said, laughing and then they headed out. ********* “May I get the drinks, sir? It would please me a lot.” “Of course, Ron. I’ll have a double whiskey. I need something to make the day a little more tolerable.” Ron walked to the bar and ordered the drinks. He was nervous as hell, this being his first time in the Officer’s Club, but there seemed to be something more. He fumbled around the bar for a little longer than he would have liked, but the General had been busy talking to other officers when Ron got back – so he didn’t notice. Ron handed his boss his drink and there were beads of sweat gathering on his brow. The General thought it was adorable – watching his unflappable assistant become rattled just because he was around all the officers for the first time. They brought their glasses together, the General impressed that Ron asked for the same drink. “To your health,” Art said, smiling. “And to yours, sir,” Ron replied and they both took big gulps. ********* Ron loved the General. Wait – years of therapy had taught Ron to be more precise with his thoughts - Ron was in love with the General – deeply and hopelessly in love. The General counted down the days to his retirement with a little sadness, but mostly with excitement. Ron counted the days with nothing but despair – his own desk calendar marking the time left, as well. Whenever Ron contemplated his boss his hands unconsciously went up to his own nipples and he scraped them with his thumbnails and pinched them hard. Fur covered pecs – seen with secret, furtive glances at the gym. A deep, gravelly voice that made Ron’s ass tighten. A wide he-man bubbled butt, which still ignored gravity even at his age. Thick legs that looked as sturdy as trees. A face that perpetually had a five-o’clock shadow. How could any gay man on earth not fall in love with this man. Of course, Ron had never let his feelings for the older man interfere with his work. Ron was the consummate professional when it came to his job. Everyone told him so. But when he was in the privacy of his own bungalow his desire for the General was not hidden. A stolen used jock kept sealed in a Ziploc bag and taken out for late night sniffing. A flannel shirt not washed since it was taken – worn to bed on cold nights so Ron’s bed smelled like the General. Multiple pictures snapped inconspicuously and printed on special photo paper so they’d last longer. Ron’s shrine to his boss. The private acknowledged and accepted how weird his actions were. He was always as honest with himself as possible. He was simply head-over-heels in love with General Artemis Scala. That’s why he had made the decision to help his boss. He knew the General was getting older. He could see how the love of his life had trouble sometimes rising from a low-sitting chair. He noticed the grimaces on his face the day after hard workouts. He could see that the General was tired. Ron didn’t question his decision to do something about it. He never doubted that he was supposed to find a way to make the General feel better. He even decided that being court-martialed for insubordination would be justified – in his mind – if he extended the vitality and the life of the man he would love forever. It was worth getting in trouble, if he could just help the General. That’s why Ron stole an entire vial of Martha Brown’s enhancement chemical while she was talking to the General. That’s why he had poured it into the glass of whiskey he had served the General that very evening. That’s why he now pinched his own nipples unconsciously looking into the bathroom mirror of the Officer’s Club after he had stepped away for a few minutes to calm down. The man of his dreams was going to be enhanced . . . or dead . . . within twenty-four hours. It was now just a waiting game.
  14. 20 points
    “Give it here,” he said as I looked for a bottle opener in a drawer. I handed him the beer bottle. He put the edge of the top against his dense nipple and pulled down quickly. The cap went flying off. My mouth dropped open wide and he just smiled at me – as if he were pitying a lesser soul. He handed out his hand for my bottle. I gave it to him and he repeated the process with his other nipple, as if he needed to show me that both sides were equal. My mouth dropped open wider. His smile got bigger. “I’m really popular at parties,” he said and then he turned to look at my place. “Nice digs. I like the high ceilings and wide rooms. The place goes well with my big body. Mind if I get more comfortable?” He had already taken off his shirt, which had almost caused me heart failure. The huge, gray Harvard sweatshirt didn’t hide his size at all, but it had certainly covered up his definition, fat nips, perfectly defined abs, and his tattoos. He saw me staring at the one plastered on his right shoulder, just above the well-muscled biceps. “Are you religious?” I asked him, once I could get my mouth to work again. “Kind of. It’s for when I tell someone it’s time for a ‘come to Jesus’ moment. I’m like a preacher that carries around his own altar to worship at.” “It’s a very big altar,” I replied, finding some boldness in my quivering body. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you size doesn’t matter.” He unbuttoned his jeans and then pulled down the zipper slowly – teasing me with his eyes as he did. He then had to actually grunt a little as he struggled to push down his tight jeans over mega-sized quads, revealing white posers covering the kind of package you’d want to receive at Christmas – because it was huge. He took a sip of beer, making sure his biceps swelled nicely as he did it. He was watching my every reaction and loving it. “Bigness runs in my family,” he said, grabbing one of the dining room chairs, sitting in it, and man spreading his legs in a very inviting way. “I’ve been blessed in so many ways.” We had met in one of the only remaining gay bookstores in the city. He had been looking at the bodybuilding magazines (of course) and I had conveniently dropped in at the same time to pick up a newly translated novel by my favorite Spanish writer. It was the continuation of a series about a library of forgotten books that I had been anticipating for a long time. He had sauntered over to the counter as I was checking out, clearly having noticed that I had glanced at him over twelve times in the last five minutes. When it came to big men, I had no subtlety at all. He carried a big duffle bag – which screamed either he had just arrived or had been kicked out of someplace just that morning. He stood entirely too close for me to not acknowledge him – or miss the heat his big body put out. He towered over me – my face even with his shoulders. I looked up and smiled – saying nothing. It was a situation where I didn’t want to say something I’d regret and my mouth wasn’t working that well, anyway. His beauty and size made me speechless. “I like that author. And that series is good.” I’m a guy that likes all sorts of men – the clueless jock, the sweaty construction worker, the hairy fireman – but I did believe that reading separated the cavemen from the gentlemen. A good novel could almost be as good as sex – almost. I quickly glanced down at the cover of the book to make sure it didn’t announce that it was part of a series. It did not. This guy might actually read and know an author that I adored. He clearly picked up on my need to test to see if he really knew the novel – for he quoted a very important line from the other books, perfectly. He also did it in Catalan, which blew me away. I couldn’t really think for a few minutes because such a huge and gorgeous man knowing this author was like winning to giant lotteries on the same day. “He’s one of my favorites.” “You’ve got good taste. I’m Eduardo,” he said, holding out a beefy hand that engulfed mine. “I’m Carson,” I replied – instantly noticing that he purposefully did not squeeze my hand hard, which I was thankful for and disappointed with at the same time. “Carson, I hope I’m not being forward, but I’m new to town – hence the bag, and I don’t know anyone. I just got off a two-day bus ride from Texas and I could really use a beer. Could I buy you one at some place that’s your favorite? I’d like to get to know the neighborhood and my, hopefully, soon to be neighbors.” What makes a guy trust a moment? What makes a guy make irrational decisions? Maybe, it was the fact that it was Friday afternoon on a cool summer’s day. Maybe it was the fact that I felt really handsome in my new tailor-made suit. Maybe it was the fact that I felt a connection with the guy. Or, more likely, it was because he was hot as hell and huge as fuck. But, I suddenly decided that this was an opportunity not to be missed and was aggressively bold. “I live around the corner and have a fridge full of beer. I’m also cooking lasagna, tonight. Doesn’t that sound better than a bar?” “It sounds like heaven, Carson. I might also give you some money if you’d let me take a shower. I’m pretty rank from the trip.” “Of course,” I said, handing my money to the grinning lesbian behind the counter. “Good for you, honey,” she said, winking at me. And now, there was this huge man in white much-loaded posers sitting in my dining room, sipping a beer and staring at me with a look in his eyes that was both frightening and thrilling at the same time. “What brings you to the city,” I asked, leaning against the counter that separated the large open kitchen from the dining room. “My family didn’t take to the idea that I like men as much as I hoped they would. Disowned, disinherited, dissed completely – a story that’s been many times before. I decided I needed to be where my lust for cock wouldn’t be viewed as a ticket straight to hell.” “Let me guess – the eldest son, the biggest son, and, with looks like that, the son that was going to give mom and dad the best-looking grandchildren.” “Yes, to all of the above,” Eduardo said, taking another sip of his beer. “Even if it’s a tale that’s been told before, it’s still pretty sad and unfair,” I said – with a seriousness that seemed to move him. “You look like you’ll be able to take care of yourself, though.” “I do alright,” he said, staring right at me,” but sometimes it’s better having someone else taking care of you, you know. Satisfying one’s own needs can get pretty . . . lonely.” My brain told me to sip beer – mainly to give my suddenly dry mouth some much needed liquid and to make my brain stop imagining Eduardo satisfying himself. He sipped, too, but was finishing his beer. I forced my body to move and went to the fridge to retrieve another one for him. When I turned around he had moved silently right behind me. I almost ran into that magnificent chest. I held up the beer and he took it, making sure his hand brushed across my fingers. This time, he merely held the bottle and put his thumbnail under the edge of the cap. He flicked it off easily and caught the thing in his other hand. I’m sure it was more party tricks. We were standing close enough for me to get a good whiff of his masculine musk – not even being close to ‘rank’ as he had called himself earlier. He noticed me inhale deeply. “Mind if I take that shower now? I’d like to be clean for dinner.” “On two conditions, though.” “Maybe. What are the conditions?” he asked, suspiciously. “One, I’m not taking money from you. My shower is your shower. And secondly,” I continued boldly, “you stay dressed only in your posers. They seem to make you comfortable.” “Very comfortable. Carson, I like the way you think. I believe I might have met my first friend in the city. I’m looking forward to the lasagna.” And with that, he turned around slowly and walked away – knowing I was taking a long drink view of his back, ass, and humongous thighs. He picked up his discarded clothes – how thoughtful – and then grabbed his duffle bag. As he walked down the hallway, without asking where he should shower, I suddenly realized he’d choose the master bathroom, anyway. The shower was big with multiple heads and it would be big enough for his huge body. The masculine smell of him lingered in the kitchen for a while, after he was gone. I stood there, sipping my beer and willing my body to calm down. There was a certain place in my bedroom where I knew you could stand and see perfectly into the glassed shower stall in the reflection of the mirror. I thought about going back and taking a long look. I’d seen the guy almost completely naked, already, but there was one big part of him I still longed to take a gander at. I refrained and jumped into action to start dinner. Twenty minutes later I was standing at the long counter looking at some mail and Eduardo walked out in only one of my enormous, white, thick, fancy hotel-grade towels wrapped around his waist. His muscles glistened a little from leftover water and his hair was ruffled from towel drying it. I noticed the towel looked small on him. He held up his empty beer bottle and I took it, heading to the fridge to get him another. He had his palms on the counter and was leaning forward when I came back. His arms were huge and it looked like he might start doing push-ups any second now. He took the beer and then noticed I was drinking something else. “I switched to scotch,” I said, not telling it was done to specifically calm my wildly turned-on body. “You’ve got a big place for just one guy,” he said, making his biceps tense a little as he pressed into the counter. I found my gaze drawn to a little tuft of fur right above where the towel was folded over itself at his crotch. He surely saw where I was staring. This made him smile and I turned red. I quickly took a sip of my drink, letting the clink of ice cubes fill the awkward silence. “It used to be for two,” I replied, and felt a little pang of sadness. “Who’s the babe in the picture on the dresser?” Eduardo asked. “That’s Carlos. My ex.” “You have a thing for Latin men?” he inquired, standing up to his full height and squaring off his shoulders. “I have a thing for men, in general,” I replied. “Apparently, for big men, from the looks of his body in the picture.” “I have been known to appreciate the male physique, yes,” I answered. “How long has Carlos been out of the picture?” “One month, tomorrow.” “Ouch. Still raw, huh?” “Still very raw.” “Why is he no longer here?” “He now lives with my best friend. They somehow forgot that golden rule of not coveting your neighbor’s or best friend’s husband.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” Eduardo said and I could tell he genuinely meant it. “Don’t be. I took a sledgehammer to his Mercedes. He didn’t press charges. He says we’re even.” “How long were you together?” “Eleven years, three months, and two days . . . but who’s counting,” I replied, laughing at my own joke and then taking a large swig of my scotch. “There’s part of me, by the way, that’s not sad to hear you’re newly single,” he said, gazing intently into my eyes. “I came out to see if would be okay for me to wear some different posers for dinner. The white one’s have been on me since Texas. I have some gold ones I think you’ll like a lot.” “As long as they are as hot as the white ones,” I said, wanting to ask him if I could have the one’ he’d worn since Texas for some all-night sniffing – but decided against it. “I’m hot in whatever I wear,” he said, holding up his beer for a toast. “I’ll drink to that,” I replied, tapping my scotch glass against the bottle. “It would only be fair, it seems to me, if you wore as little as I am going to for dinner, though. I noticed some hot looking running shorts hanging in the bathroom. I’ll expect you to change into those before dinner.” And then he walked away, taking his beer and returning to the bedroom down the hall. Luckily, I had dated the hot muscle head, Carlos, for eleven years. He was nowhere near the size of Eduardo, but he was pretty big and well developed. I’d gotten over any inadequacies brought on by being nude next to a bodybuilder years ago – thanks mainly because Carlos had insisted I turn my smaller frame into something pretty hot, myself. He said he didn’t want to date a dweeb and made it his personal goal to beef me up, slightly. I had a build I could be proud of – even if I didn’t bulge out everywhere like the body of my house guest. I looked forward to eating dinner with Eduardo in my shorts. Eduardo waddled out later on in some shiny golden posers that brought out his dark skin perfectly – indeed, he did look hot in anything he wore. He entered the room cockily and I, again, marveled at his magnificent body. “How’d you get so big?” “Mostly genetics. You should see my dad, he makes me look small. But I also worked out hard starting around grade nine. Having a dad into bodybuilding helps you to grow.” “I can imagine. Dinner is almost ready,” I said, handing him another beer and pointing toward the dining room table. “Then shouldn’t you be changing?” “I’m on my way. Hold your horses, buddy.” “I’ve been holding my horses all day, Carson. And even a big man like me can only hold the beasts back for a little while,” he said without hiding the multiple innuendos at all. As I passed by him, I glanced as his huge body again. The wide dark circles around his thick plugs caught my attention first. Man, I was a sucker for huge nips. They were highlighted by the clearly rock-had mounds of muscle that supported them. His pecs were broad, thick, pillows of flesh-covered stone and that got me so pumped. Even relaxed, his arms looked like he was flexing hard. They bulged with single thick veins snaking across both mammoth peaks. His traps made me hot and jealous at the same time. They looked like a second pair of shoulders. Forearms as thick as my own biceps screamed for my attention, as well. I definitely wanted to ride his ‘ready-for-saddles’ thighs – each seemingly having the thickness of a horse. I shook my head as I went down the hallway, bewildered that a man could build his body so beautifully immense. I took off my suit and hung it up. I then stripped and put on the black running shorts that were still a little damp from my blast around the park that morning. I glanced at myself in the mirror. I knew I looked good – tight runner’s body with a more than adequate face. I knew I’d be feeling a little inadequate across from Eduardo’s mega bulges at dinner, but I’d be proud of what I brought to the table. I was in no way a slouch. When I came back to the dining area, Eduardo let out a big whistle. “Why Mr. Carson, I do declare,” he said, in a very bad southern accent, “I had no idea you were hiding such a fine specimen of manhood underneath that suit of yours. That’s a hot, tight body.” “Thank you,” I replied, retrieving the food from the kitchen, waving Eduardo to stay seated when he started to get up to help. “Let me serve you . . . you know, to welcome you to our fair city. Who knows, maybe you can return the favor and serve me something later on.” “I’d be happy to give you a very big portion later on, Carson. I’m hoping you can handle it.” “No portion has ever been too big for me to handle, Eduardo. It seems appropriate to let you know that,” I said, serving the dinner and looking deeply into his eyes. “Somehow, I think we’re not just talking about food, anymore,” the big man commented, smiling at me with a knowing grin. “I like a challenge, sir.” “Oh, I’m not sure I’d like to compete with you, Eduardo. A big guy like you would dominate me in any sport. I’m just letting you know that I can be very accommodating. Huge men don’t intimidate me.” “I like that word ‘dominate,’ sir.” Eduardo said, reaching out and putting his giant mitt of a hand on top of mine. We both looked down at the table to take time to notice the size difference in our fingers and palms. His hand engulfed mine as if I was just a child. My crotch responded with what could only be described as an appreciative twitching. There wasn’t anything I liked more in the world than being ‘dominated’ by a larger, stronger, cockier man. Eduardo fit the bill perfectly. He pulled his hand away and we both started to eat. Allowing silence to calm our raging bodies a little. Our gaze, however, never broke from each other. “What are your future plans, Eduardo?” I asked, trying to move away from the edge of mutual explosions. “My plan right now is just to get bigger,” he said with a knowing smile. “Maybe it’s just a way to get back at my family, but – hey – inspiration comes from different places, right? I just want to keep growing.” “You’re fucking huge now,” I said, without thinking – and it made him smile. “But imagine me bigger,” he replied softly. “I’m not sure my body can take thoughts of you being bigger,” I answered with complete honesty. He took a huge bite of lasagna and chewed – even as he smiled. His eyes lit up as he took in all of my admiration and lust. His pecs rolled up and down just to taunt me and his huge nipples bobbed up and down. His foot met mine under the table and he placed it on top – pressing down teasingly. There was power in his legs – that was quite clear from how his big foot smashed mine. He kept taking giant mouthfuls of lasagna and staring at me. I needed to get my mind off of thinking about him growing larger. “Tell me something about yourself that very few people know about you,” I said, taking a sip of wine. “I get off on being submissive,” Eduardo replied, without missing a beat and the comment made me cough wine back into my glass. “You okay, there, Carson.” “Um . . . no, the wine went down wrong. I’m thinking I might have misunderstood you.” “Nope, you heard right. The quickest way to get me rock hard is to boss me around. I crave being subservient.” The entire room suddenly seemed off-kilter – like one of those funhouses at a theme park where the floor was slanted or moved. I felt as if I were an unmoored ship – lost in a fog. The universe was suddenly not balanced. To make things even more strange, my already hard cock somehow shot painfully stiffer. The behemoth across from the table . . . the one with a foot presently dwarfing mine as it covered it . . . was, I think, telling me he liked taking orders, being dominated, serving someone else. My confusion, doubt, eager wonder must have shown clearly on my face. “If I analyze it too closely, Carson, it’s probably somehow tied to my father’s cruelty, but I’m seriously working through all of that and I still long to be a ‘yes’ man to some other guy. I know I’m huge. I don’t have a self-esteem problem. I can be the dominant cocky muscleman any time it benefits me, but that’s not what gets me excited. That’s not the images I beat off to in bed.” “And . . . um . . . what images do you . . . beat off to?” I asked, still somewhat baffled. “Doing push-ups while a guy uses me as a footstool. Cranking out sweaty pose after sweaty pose as a guy tells me how to flex. Opening doors for a guy. Serving him breakfast in bed. Only wearing what he tells me to. Licking a guy’s feet when he offers them to me.” “Sweet mother of . . . are you yanking my chain, Eduardo?” The huge man pushed back his chair and stepped around to my side of the table. He never took his eyes from mine as he slowly knelt near my chair. He put his arms behind him, grabbing one wrist with the other hand. I have no idea what fueled my next action . . . it was just something I knew I was supposed to do. Maybe Eduardo willed me to do it. No matter what was the source, I turned in my chair and stuck out my right foot – placing the heel on the floor and making my toes stick upward. The muscled behemoth’s massive chest was heaving up and down with excitement. There was a look of total happiness on the big man’s face. His cobbled abs tensed up beautifully as he bent forward to take my big toe in his mouth. I had never experienced such an orgasmic sensation before. I cried out in pleasure as my cock spewed into my running shorts.
  15. 20 points
    “Dude, just how big is this shit going to make me?” Josh asked as he’d popped a couple more of the pills. It was an experimental drug that even I didn’t know what all was going to happen. So far, it’d been fairly overt on what was happening. Each time he’d take the pills his blood would get supercharged and grow his muscles. Just a month ago no one would have looked at him as anything other than just some guy trying to get swole. Yet he obviously didn’t know what he was doing in the gym and his diet was full of fat and sugars. But he wanted a quick fix. I gave it to him. I’d been experimenting for a while and told him about it. He was more than happy to volunteer. He didn’t care about the side effects. Josh just wanted to get big. So I gave it to him. It seemed to start working instantly. Everyday he seemed to gain another pound of pure muscle. I told him he had to clean up his diet and that’s when he started to gain even more. The lack of flavor in the baked chicken breast seemed didn’t deter him. When he was seeing 2 and sometimes 3 pounds of gains, he’d eat the whole farm if he had to. I’d tracked him all the way through. He’d started off average with his 14 inch biceps but those quickly grew. His large shirts grew tight and he had to buy a whole new wardrobe of XL clothing. But even that was starting to get tight on him. His brow started to push out further while his jawline grew thicker. But his favorite thing to do was brag about how much of an alpha he was. Even when he was more of an average jock, he loved talking about how big and strong he was. It didn’t matter that he was about 170 pounds, he’d act like he was at least 250. Now that he was, it didn’t have to be an act. People would move out of his way naturally. His wide shoulders and intimidating size would make people question if they even wanted a chance to piss him off. “I don’t know,” I answered his question. “It seems to just keep making you bigger each time you take ‘em.” “I know, right?” Josh threw up his arms into a double bicep pose. I could see the firm peaks bulge as he did so. Around me he seemed to love not having any sleeves on. Not that I was complaining, but it did seem a little bit weird. “Hey. Jason’s been asking me about what I’m taking. Do you think you could give him some too?” “Well… First we need to know some of the side effects. Has anything changed?” I asked as I measured his biceps again. Nearly 21 inches. I went to his chest. But he paused not answering the question. “Josh?” “Changed? No… Not really,” he answered. There was a bit of unease in his voice that wasn’t ever there. “Josh,” I said firmly. His body straightened up. “Is there something that I need to know about?” His face scrunched up as he tried to hold back his answer. “N-nuh-no…” “Josh.” I placed my hands on my hips. “Is there something different?” Under his arms started to sweat. He lifted up his hat and wiped his head. “Listen, I’ve got to go…” “Josh!” I pushed him against the wall. Despite being so large, he went up against the wall. It was almost a bit awkward. I could feel some kind of tension between us as my hand rested on his chest. He could have snapped me in two for doing this to him, yet he didn’t move. “Josh?” I felt his breathing grow uneven. We’d been the same height when the trials started, now he looked down at me. “It’s nothing,” he breathed and lightly pushed past me. Josh tried to push the door open, but I pushed it closed. “Wait,” I ran my other hand down his thick bicep. It was just a soft touch, using just my fingertips. He seemed to melt. Every bit of of his 250 pounds muscular frame fell against the door, making it impossible for him to open. “Josh..? Is there something you’re not telling me?” I whispered into his ear. He let out a long low moan. “Listen buddy. It’s…” My finger went and twirled around his hard nipple. The back of my nail just brushed around him ever so softly. “Don’t lie to me,” I kept my voice low, yet seductive. “Tell me what’s going on…” “It’s just…” he let out another moan. “It’s just that stuff. It’s making me so big. And horny. But like not for the girls at the gym anymore. When I took Brit home last time…” another grunt. “I just couldn’t think about her.” I didn’t let up. “So who do you think about?” The answer was obvious. I just needed to egg it out of him. His low pants and shallow breathing gave him away, but I wanted him to say it. I kiss the side of his neck while running my hands over the massive muscles. I’d been able to feel their strength so many times, yet right now they molded to my hands. Josh let out a few more huffs as he tried to think of something to say. Words wouldn’t come out. Each time it was just another huff. “Who do you think about?” I goaded. My hands drifted over his abs down towards his flexible pants. I gripped the band and pushed them down over his waist. “No wait!” he tried to grab the pants but they were against the floor. But still I did what he said. Only to see him in his jock with his ass completely exposed. Yet it wasn’t the defined glutes that got my attention but the hole between them. It wasn’t nearly as tight and small as it should have been. I laughed and dropped my own pants. I made sure to give him enough time to push away, yet his body seemed to be stuck to the door. My hard cock rubbed up against it and he let out a moan. “Oh God…” he cried out. His body tried to hold on to something but couldn’t get anything to grab. I pushed a little more. He squirmed under the sensation. I could feel his hard muscles tighten under the pressure. “More…” he begged. I complied and dug deeper inside of him. It didn’t matter how much of a cock was shoved into his jock, he wanted a cock shoved deep inside. Each thrust seemed to send him over but he was a good boi and knew how to wait. I could hear him doing everything in his power to hold back. But eventually the sensation grew too much for me and I released inside him. Each pump filled him up more. Josh turned around and slid down to the floor. His jock was dripping cum onto the floor below him. “Oh shit. Oh shit… What are the other guys going to think? Damn it. Why did that feel so good. I just can’t help myself…” He looked upset as he put his hands against his face. “Don’t worry about it,” I got down to his level and spoke with confidence. “You said Jason wanted to try this stuff too. Right? Well, I think I can make a little bit more…” A smile crept onto his face as he knew what I was implying.
  16. 19 points
    Chapter 11 I spent most of that day just masturbating. Different positions, different locations, different visual aids and accessories. By 5 PM, right when I would normally be getting out of work, I had lost track of the number of orgasms I had. Since Mo would be home soon, I threw on Oz’s robe to at least somewhat mask my nudity. I had a strong suspicion that when Mo came home he’d want to examine the damages. Perhaps he just wanted to get a better understanding of the spell, but more likely, his ego demanded to see just how much bigger than him I was. Soon enough, Mo was back at the apartment. He closed the door behind him and, sure enough, began stripping in the living room. “Into the bathroom,” Mo commanded. “We can put that oversized mirror to good use.” Standing naked next to my brother, I only felt awkward for a moment. During my many self-explorations that day, I’d done the necessary measurements. I was now 6’5”, a full two inches taller than him. I now weighed 210. I was a little bigger than Oz, and without my husband’s belly, I looked even bigger. More delightfully, I had a full 30 pounds more muscle than Mo. All my muscles bulged larger than his as we flexed next to each other in the mirror. And I was even more ripped than Mo, and he was pretty ripped with a delightful six-pack of his own. Of course, I was covered with a shaggy coat of hair, and Mo was smooth and hairless, so I looked even bigger. I had measured my cock out of curiosity—8.5 inches. But, I didn’t know how big Mo’s was, so I didn’t know how if I outclassed him there. But I did. Mo’s cock, a prodigious 8 inches, was visibly smaller than mine. “I’ve always wondered if I’d look good if I bulked up some more,” Mo said, staring at our reflections. “And now I know the answer.” “And what is the answer?” I asked. “I’d look fucking hot.” “We’re brothers, not twins,” I reminded him. “We look alike, but there’s no guarantee where you’d carry the extra mass,” I teased, flexing both my biceps. In a flash, Mo’s face went from playful to worried. After a few seconds of silence, he placed a hand on my arm. I was curious what his goal could possibly be, but after a few more seconds of silence, he removed his hand again. “With that out of the way,” Mo said “With what out of the way?” “I was just triple checking that I didn’t want to fuck you. I don’t think you know this, but you are cranking out some serious pheromone-rich musk. It’s like a fuck-me fog. It’s ratcheted your-already-sexy-self up a few notches. Until we’ve got this sorted out, skip the gym. If you work up a major sweat, you’ll draw in every straight woman, gay man, and bisexual anyone within a 1,000-meter radius.” After a moment, he added, “Now, go get dressed. We have business to attend to.” I put on one of the outfits Oz had left behind. When he wasn’t at work, Oz was a jeans, flannel, and t-shirt kind of guy, so my choices were quite casual. Oz’s jeans were a great match for my new height and the thickness of my legs and ass, but I the waist was comically large. Thankfully, that left room for my enlarged junk. Similarly, the t-shirt came all the way down to my pants, perfectly framing my broadened shoulders, slightly stretching over my thickened pecs and arms, but noticeably billowing round my six-pack. The end result was hot, but I’d emptied my chambers enough times to be at least momentarily sated. I joined Mo at the dining room table, and he laid out all the info he had gathered. “I’m still mostly convinced that Austin paid to have this spell cast,” he confessed. “Yeah,” I admitted sadly. “Right before I grew again, Oz sent me another text message. Once is a coincidence. Twice is a pattern. I don’t want it to be Oz, but I’m not an idiot.” “Do you have easy access to Austin’s banking records, credit card statements, things like that?” “Smart. Find out if he made any big purchases recently. Everything that’s not online is in his office. You can go through it to your heart’s content.” “Good. Austin is the sort of fuddy-duddy who’d write down his important passwords on a cheat sheet so he doesn’t forget them. I’ll let you know if there’s anything to worry about.” I groaned and braced my temples with my hands. “I hate being suspicious of my husband, but I want to know one way or the other.” Mo reassured me. “The more I learn about this spell, the weirder it gets. Even if it is Austin, that’s not the whole story. For instance, we can’t stop looking into Vernon Bailey. He showed up at C&G the second you left.” “Actually, we bumped into each other in the parking garage,” I informed him. “Okay. That’s super sketchy. Rich men like Vernon Bailey don’t drive themselves anywhere. Doesn’t he have a driver?” I nodded wordlessly, and Mo continued. “Yeah, so that’s an unlikely coincidence. If it’s not Austin, it’s Vernon. They might even be working together.” That had never occurred to me. Mo went on. “Also, your boss Hugo Tyler has got to be up to something, and not just shady hiring practices.” Mo pulled out two files and dropped them in front of me. “Among the temps he hired to work in the mailroom before his mysterious absence, there are two really noteworthy ones: Jayce Wilco and Izaiah Bernal.” “I’ve heard the name Jayce Wilco before,” I said. I wouldn’t admit this out loud to Mo, but Jayce Wilco was my favorite gay porn star. “Oh yeah, you have,” Mo said, flipping open Jayce’s folder to show me the photo attached to his file. “We both have. He’s my go-to Pornhub search. It’s so much more satisfying when the men in my porn are actually gay.” I knew what Mo meant. Many (most?) performers for gay porn were straight men willing to have sex with men for a paycheck. Jayce Wilco had a reputation for being an insatiable cock-hound both on and off camera. Rumor had it that he was more than happy to make a personal appearance for a fee. The situation seemed laughably bizarre. “Why would a porn star take a temp gig at C&G?” Mo pointed to the wage listed. “Because he’s being paid for his time. This is over twenty times as much as mailroom temps earn,” Mo said with a chuckle. “And this budget code is different from all the other temps. I don’t know where his paycheck will come from. If Wilco’s reputation is justified, he’s a temptation someone put in your path. And if I didn’t get this paperwork, I would’ve been blindsided when he starts Wednesday. Be on the lookout.” “And Izaiah?” Mo flipped open his folder. The man was enormous. “A bodybuilder. Still trying to get his pro card, but he’s packed on some serious mass this last year, and internet gossip is that it’s finally going to happen for him.” Conspiratorially, Mo added, “His Twitter account and Grindr profile are particularly informative. His boyfriend dumped him a month ago, and he is seriously on the rebound.” “Another temptation?” I asked. “A horny, lonely, gay bodybuilder?” Mo laughed. “Obviously, he’s a temptation. And, he’s getting paid the same as Wilco. From the same non-existent budget code. He starts tomorrow. The other hires are perfectly normal—a lot of desperate college grads with student loans to pay. And they’re all being paid using the standard budget codes. But these two make no sense to hire for a mailroom. Hugo is up to something. Even Alexander, who knows everything that goes down at the Boston C&G, thinks Hugo’s sickness is completely fake. It was just a cold, and now the big boss is sitting at the desk?” “Is that all you got from Alexander?” “Well, he confirmed my suspicion that Quincy from IT is worth looking into.” “You think an unpaid college student had this spell cast?” “No. I think he’s someone’s lacky. I don’t know whose, but he keeps showing up whenever you grow, and, according to Alexander, he’s placed a whole bunch of cameras in your office.” My blood grew cold. “He’s spying on me?” “That’s the rumor,” Mo confirmed. “Alexander was afraid to tell you.” “Fuck!” I shouted. “What?” “I masturbated in my office today after I grew. I couldn’t hold it in. It was too much, so I …” “Oh, Eenie,” Mo said soothingly, his hand on my shoulder. “You had no idea.” “I’m going to kill that fucker,” I growled. “Slow down, cowboy,” Mo pat my shoulder, then stood up to pace. “We don’t know if it’s true yet. And even if it is true, Quincy is likely working for someone. Which would make him a source of information. And even if he is just perving on you, if we got access to his surveillance, we could use it to our advantage.” “You haven’t talked with the boy. I’m banking on perv. Is that all Alexander said? “Umm… no,” Mo sat back down at the table. “Do you know that Alexander is completely in love with you?” I put my face in my hands and sighed. “Still? I told him, before I ever met Oz, that I liked him as a friend but didn’t want anything romantic. Then he made that sobbing, drunk confession after Oz popped the question. But that was forever ago.” “Could Alexander afford to have a spell cast?” “Alexander is a trust fund kid who only works at C&G because he loves office drama, hanging out with me, and having an outlet for his admittedly adequate art skills. He also lives like a monk in an apartment as small as his office cubicle. Yeah. He could afford it.” “Worth looking into. If nothing else, to cross him off the list.” I could only respond with sarcasm. “Great. That’s awesome. Why is everyone obsessed with me?” Mo looked sulky. “I’d kill for a guy like Alexander to be in love with me.” “Is somebody jealous?” Mo picked up one of the employee files and swatted me with it. “Shut up.” “Fine. Are those all our suspects?” “Oh, no. It gets better. Your theory about Garrett has some merit. But not for the reason you think.” “What do you mean?” “He’s Garrett Duarte.” “I know his last name.” “He’s one of the Providence Duartes.” “So, he’s from New England aristocracy or something? He’s secretly rich?” “Weirder. His father was Elias Duarte, famous in the magic world. Elias Duarte was the most powerful magic user in the United States before he died. He was measured at 4.3. But, unlike most casters, he wasn’t rich. He worked for favors, rather than money. At an early age, he realized that accepting money for spells would corrupt him, so he only cast spells that he deemed worthy.” “So, Garrett could have inherited his skills?” “At the very least, it’s worth checking into.” “So, what’s the next step?” “My official duties at C&G involve tracking down these hiring irregularities. That means I’m going to have to get ahold of Hugo, maybe even visit him. If there’s something funny going on there, I’ll be sure to suss it out.” “Great. What should I do?” Mo fell silent. After a few seconds, I nudged him and said, “If you don’t have anything for me to do, that’s okay. I’m more than happy to lay low.” “I have something you can do,” Mo said, “but you’re not going to like it.” “I don’t like any of this,” I said. Then I caught a glimpse of my bounteous pecs. “Okay, I like certain parts of this.” “The Eye of Horus,” Mo said, as if that explained everything. I sat there silently, waiting for Mo to say more. After half a minute, Mo rolled his eyes and expanded. “You knew Oliver had a tattoo. You didn’t know he had one before you saw his vision, but in his vision, he was completely exposed. Literally. And it didn’t lie to you. The visions can’t distort reality. They’re possible futures. So, if you see the visions of the people connected to the spell, you could learn some really useful information. Maybe even the identity of the contractor.” “Let me get this straight,” I started. “You want me to intentionally see the sexual fantasies of a group of men, two who were likely hired to tempt me to cheat on my husband?” “Yes.” “With this amped up sex drive, you want me to expose myself to the deepest sexual desires of men who want to fuck me?” “That is the long and short of it, yes.” “That’s insane.” “It gets worse.” “How?” “This is a seduction malediction. Key word: malediction. It’s the favorite spell of jealous wives. It’s designed to punish adulterers. People under a seduction malediction who cheat on their spouses suffer some pretty bad consequences." "Pretty bad?” Mo was going to have to be a lot more specific than that. “Depends on how jealous the wife is. The ones who are only doing it to get the upper hand in a divorce, he generally just loses all of his newfound hotness, and maybe his dick shrinks. The more vindictive ones…” Mo trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence. “Well, you won’t die. A seduction malediction has never killed anyone.” “What has one done?” With a reluctant sigh, Mo explained. “Impotence is a popular consequence. Some guys turn gay, which I guess means you’d turn straight. One really sleezy French guy ended up legless. The consequences are as unique and imaginative as the contractor. And we already know this contractor is imaginative.” “Wow.” “I didn’t bring it up before because I thought you’d never cheat on Austin.” “Of course not.” “But if you go exploring these men’s fantasies, you’ve got to promise me you’ll masturbate at least twice beforehand.” My week suddenly seemed a lot more challenging.
  17. 18 points
    Chapter 19 “I’m delighted you see things my way, dear boy. Why don’t you join me on this side of the table?” I rose from the chair, momentarily startled by the higher vantage point, and twirled around to join him on the cushioned booth seat, never releasing Vernon’s hand, to sit by his left side. With my free hand, I began stroking his face. The coarse sensation of his stubble was sandpaper lightning under my fingertips. I pulled him in close for a kiss, and I could feel his lips pressed against mine. The intensity increased, and soon I could feel his rough beard scratching my face. I let go of his hand and held the back of his head with both of mine. His kiss was life-giving and vital. As it reached a crescendo, he pulled back. “I owe you gramercy,” he said, a little short of breath. “While I have enjoyed the company of many-a gentlemen before you, it was always a sweaty, dirty shame perpetrated behind locked doors. That was liberating.” I rubbed his cheek affectionately, slowly lowering my hand until it was down the front of his shirt, swirling his chest hair, admiring just how firm his chest was. His muscles weren’t large, but they were solid, dense, and present. I drew closer to him, preparing to pull him into me, when our waiter returned. Unfazed, he placed our drink orders on the table, saw that we were mid-embrace, and simply said, “I’ll give you two another minute before you order.” Without fanfare, he turned and left. “What are you in the mood for?” I whispered into his ear. “You can never err with the seafood at this establishment. Perhaps a seafood tower to celebrate our coming together in a kiss.” “That’s not what I meant,” I said, practically breathed, into his ear. “It’s all on the menu, Vernon.” After I moment, I added, pausing after each word, “You need but to ask.” “Something more insouciant, then,” he said. His left hand crawled down my front, stopping only momentarily to appreciate the firmness of my abs, until he reached my zipper. With one deft pull, he released the pressure on my bulge, and some of my underwear-clad cock seeped out of the opening. His agile fingers lowered my boxer briefs and began drawing out all of my rigid cock, right there at the table, until it was entirely free. The table barely obscured what he was doing. At any moment, we could be discovered. Undaunted, he began to stroke my entire length, using his thumb and forefinger to apply precise, gentle, concentrated pressure to my head whenever he reached the tip. As he began his ministrations, the waiter came back over. “And what will you be having for lunch this afternoon?” Vernon intensified his attention on my cock head, and my whole body spasmed. “Sir, are you okay?” the waiter asked. “So good,” I managed. I could feel the flush rise higher in my cheeks into my forehead. “We’ll have the seafood tower,” Vernon said. “Right away,” the waiter said, taking our menus and leaving. The entire time, Vernon’s hand never left my cock. “We’re going to get in trouble,” I told him. “I’ve yearned for some decent trouble. I’ve too long languished in propriety.” “This is public indecency,” I pointed out. “This is an arrestable offense.” Vernon cast a furtive glance around the restaurant. The customers who were there were engaged in their own conversations, hardly looking up from the tables. With a devilish glint in his eye, he went down on one knee, then the other. “May as well hang for a sheep as a lamb,” Vernon said. With a wink, he put his mouth on the head of my cock and began teasing it with his tongue and lips. Slowly, he worked his mouth down my shaft until half my cock was inside. He licked its length as though it were a succulent feast. Involuntarily, I began moaning lowly and clenching my ass. A woman at a table not far from the booths turned to look because of the noise I was making. “I thought I was going to sneeze,” I said, my voice wavering up and down as Vernon varied his speed. He then tickled my bounteous balls with one of his hands, and I moaned again. “Another false alarm,” I said. The woman looked unconvinced, but turned around to finish her lunch. “If you’re not done when the waiter comes back…” I said. There was a faint popping sound as he pulled his mouth off my cock. “You mean if you’re not done.” With that, the warmth of his mouth once again encompassed my cock, and he pulled more and more of me into him until the entirety of my cock was secured by his throat. I began whimpering and gripped the table. Vernon’s head was fully in my lap, his nose pressed against the copious bush of pubic hair that spread forth from my open fly. Suddenly, the waiter returned with our food. The tower was just tall enough to obscure his view of what was going on, but as soon as he put it down, we would be caught. “Where did your dining companion go?” the waiter asked. In one fluid motion, Vernon was off my cock and sitting back in his chair. “My apologies, good sir. There was a pressing engagement I had to attend to under the table.” My cock, slick with his saliva, red and engorged at full mast, stood out in front of me. I quickly threw a napkin over it, but it made no difference because it made an obvious tent and stuck up obscenely. I shifted forward in my seat, hoping to hide it. “My gentlemen friend and I are actually planning on finishing this meeting in my bedchamber. Would it be too much of a hassle to keep our order on ice and have it sent up in half an hour? If it contravenes some sort of established protocol, I could make it worth your while.” With that, he produced his wallet and placed a $100 bill on the table. “I’d be glad to,” the waiter said. “The room is listed under Bailey,” he said. With that, the waiter took his money and left us be. “Come along, turtledove,” he said to me, rising to his feet. I went to tuck in my cock—as much as I could, given its turgidity—when he stopped me. “That wouldn’t be sporting, now would it?” “You want me to walk through a restaurant and a crowded hotel with a massive hardon sticking out of my pants?” “You make it sound so salacious. I’ll be beside you the entire time.” I knew there was no way out of this, so I rose to my feet and positioned Vernon so he was standing in front of me. I had already been head-and-shoulders taller than him, and after my most recent growth, I was that little bit more. I was also significantly wider than him, but he was a solid enough man to block my exposed member. As he stood, facing away from me, I grabbed him around the chest and held him close to me, hiding my cock between the fabric of my turtleneck and the silk of his shirt. “Your chest is heavenly,” he said, resting his head against my left pec. “Brusque and forthright, peaked like mountains, and emanating an enticing aroma of seduction.” I flexed my arms around his torso. “Most of me can be described as mountainous.” Precariously, we made our way to the elevator in the hotel lobby. A handful of people, mostly staff, looked at us, aware that something odd was happening, but not certain what it exactly was. “Have you never seen two paramours engaged in public affection?” he asked one particularly brazen woman who pointed at us. Fortune favored us, and we were the only two passengers on the elevator. As we were alone, he stepped away from me. My cock had softened ever so slightly, but it was still obviously erect. “I do admire the duration with which you can maintain that massive edifice,” he said. “A lesser man would be drooping with shame and timidity by now.” That little bit of attention reinvigorated my erection, and it surged to its full glory. “Blessed mercy,” Vernon said. “It seems I have swollen your ego, among other things.” When the elevator doors opened—on the 6th floor—Vernon stepped off without so much as a quick look to see if the coast was clear. I followed him, my dick emerging from the doors before even my bounteous pecs. After I’d gotten ten feet away from the elevator, a man in a business suit rounded the corner at the end of the hall, and I felt a flash of dread. I was going to be caught with my dick out by a complete stranger in a fancy hotel. Vernon either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He just kept walking. Acting on impulse, I turned to face the wall and smashed myself up against it, naively acting as though I could hide my cock before he saw it. I stood there, hoping against hope that the stranger would just keep walking, but instead, he stopped and said hello to me. “Hello,” I said as innocently as I could muster. “I noticed your member is out for the world to see.” “Sorry about that. I...” He cut me off. “Don’t apologize. Never apologize for a member like that. You’re some sort of high-end escort, right? With a body like that, and equipment like that, you must be.” He looked me up and down, marveling at my height and openly admiring the size of my muscles. He was practically licking his lips. “If what I saw is actually yours, and not some latex phony,” he continued, “I would like to hire you for later this evening. Do you have a card?” I turned to face him, showing him the full length of my erect cock. I stepped a little closer to him. The man was slight, but heavy. He was at most 5’7”. In other words, I was twice as wide as him and practically a foot taller. “It’s real, but I’m not for sale,” I clarified. It was half-growl, half-implied-threat. “Right, sorry, my mistake,” he said, and then finished his trip to the elevator. At the end of the hall, I saw Vernon waiting patiently next to his open door. In a dozen quick steps, I was at his side. I lifted him off the ground. With my new musculature, the man felt incredibly light. He was a full-grown, athletic man, and I could pick him up effortlessly. I carried him into his suite. I was worried I would have to duck under the doorway, but I didn’t have to… yet. If I kept growing, it would soon be an inevitability. I tossed Vernon to his bed and pounced on him. I tore open his shirt, revealing a small but strong, well-manicured chest. With a firm tug, I had his pants off, and his thick 6 inches came forth. I got off the bed to disrobe. I kicked off my shoes; he did the same. I struggled a little bit to get my pants past my thighs, but once they were all the way to the ground, I flexed my thighs for him one by one, just to show him how powerful they actually were. Then, I grabbed my turtleneck, and wrestled it off my torso. It fought me so hard that by the time I had it over my head, I was breathing heavily, my chest bounding up and down. I rejoined Vernon on the bed, and he started stroking my Adonis belt with his index finger. “You are perfection,” he said. “You haven’t gotten the whole package yet,” I said, flipping him over. My cock was slick with his saliva and my own copious pre. Before he could resist, I had entered him. Clearly, Vernon was a well-trained bottom, for I was able to get almost all of my entirety into him on the first stroke. As I thrust in and out, Vernon moaned and murmured appreciatively. He had a runner’s endurance; we were still going hot and heavy half an hour later when there was a knock at the door. “That’s our lunch,” I said, leaving him on the bed. I strolled to the door, completely naked and fully erect. I opened it, and there was our waiter with our food and drinks on a cart, Vernon’s navy suit jacket folded neatly on top. The waiter couldn’t help but look at my cock. Who could turn away, honestly? Without breaking focus, he said, “I’m going to need Mr. Bailey’s signature on this bill." Vernon came to the door, also completely naked and fully erect, and signed the bill. “I included another hundred as gratuity. Kindly leave the cart there,” Vernon said. “We will bring it inside when we’ve concluded.” The waiter walked away, not entirely sure how to take the transaction. I closed the door, and Vernon led me back to the bed, his hand around my cock as though it were my leash. “Ready for the grand finale?” I said when we reached the bed. “Am I ever,” he said, and guided me into his waiting ass. I began bucking wildly. Vernon exploded all over himself, causing his ass to tighten around my cock. Feeling his enjoyment, I was about to burst myself. “Here are your drinks, sirs,” the waiter said. I was back at the table in the restaurant; the fantasy was over. It had felt like over an hour had passed, but barely five seconds had.
  18. 17 points
    My sincere apologies for the delay - I really have been just too mentally exhausted to do "fun writing." But it has always been my intention to get this story wrapped up. Here is chapter 15 - and I promise not to have such a long delay again. If you haven't ready Chapters 1 through 14 - here are links: Chapter 1-7: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1689-the-symbiote-war/ Chapter 8: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/4428-the-symbiote-war-chapter-8/ Chapters 9-10: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5517-the-symbiote-war-chps-9-10-and-eventually-the-rest/ Chapter 11 is on page 3 of the previous thread. Chapter 12 is on page 4 of the previous thread. Chapter 13 is on page 5 of the previous thread. Chapter 14: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15351-the-symbiote-war-chapter-14/ Chapter 15: Sunday evening – still here… I feel as if I’ve been stuck here forever... (see what I did there?) I’ve no idea how long I’ve been tied to my bedframe – waiting for Shawn’s return. I have no idea what time it is – I don’t have an angle to be able to see the time on my clock – and I’ve drifted in-and-out of sleep a few times. But it’s still daylight out, and I my need to take a piss isn’t yet unbearable, so I suspect that it’s still Sunday. However, whatever drug Shawn gave me still isn’t out of my system, I’m lying here in bed with an achingly hard boner driving me crazy – but with my hands tied up, I can’t so much as touch it. Shawn’s growth is already on the scary side – but I’m starting to fantasize about him returning from the gym and giving my boner the attention it craves. Of course, my fantasizing is just making my boner throb… and throb… When will he return? …Hellooooooo???? I’m debating screaming for help. But I really don’t want just anyone coming into the room and finding me like this – I don’t think the dictionary has enough words to describe that much embarrassment. Humiliation… Shame… Awkardness… Mortified… That’s a good one! Bored? Yes, I’m bored. And trying to take my mind off my aching boner is doing nothing to help the ache in my rock-hard erection. Wait! What am I hearing? A bit of scraping at the door? Is Shawn back from the gym? His muscles all sweaty and pumped? Has he finally returned to give me release? …I mean, release me? The scrabbling at the door stops. I can faintly hear the doorknob turning. I can see the door begin to swing open, the light from the hallway framing a figure. But my eyes must be playing a trick on me, Shawn has shrunk back to his smaller self – he’s no longer the massive muscle monster! “Corrigan?” Mark’s voice! It’s Mark! “Mark? Is that you?” The figure steps into the room and closes the door. A flood of relief – I can see it’s Mark. All this time, me and my throbbing boner have been fantasizing about Shawn’s return – and now it turns out that my saviour is Mark. I am feeling more than just a little guilty about my fantasies running amok – but I am also overwhelmed with relief that Mark is here to rescue me. “How? How did you know to come looking for me?” “Holy crap! Did Shawn do this to you? I didn’t actually realize you were in trouble – I just thought I would come and check up on you – I’ve been worrying since you left this morning.” “How did you get in?” “Your RA is an old friend. And maybe we have a more pressing issue. Let’s see if we can get you untied.” “Oh yeah. That would be good. Thanks.” Mark sits on the bed and reaches up to my bedframe. “Wow! What are you tied up with?” “Shawn bent the chair frame and turned it into a makeshift set of handcuffs.” “Under other circumstances, this would be kinky.” He grins. His adorable, kind of shy smile makes my aching boner throb. Shawn is struggling with my bonds. “I can’t get them to budge. I can’t imagine the power that Shawn has in order to be able to bend this frame so easily into a set of handcuffs. I can’t even unbend it enough to get your hand out.” He’s now climbed up fully on the bed, sitting on top of me, grimacing and grunting. Even under these circumstances, I am still finding this sexy. My aching boner throbs again. “I can’t stay here until Shawn returns. I need to escape.” “Corr. I really am trying, I’m just not strong enough.” After a bit of a dramatic pause… “Maybe I can help with that.” Mark stops struggling with the cuffs, sits back, and looks me in the eye. “Are you serious?” “Can you think of another way?” “Well…no.” “And it would sort of help with another problem I’m having…” I give him a shy/awkward grin. “Yes, I noticed when I came in the room. There’s no hiding your massive erection. But we don’t really know all of the possible effects this could have. You suspect your cum causes muscle growth, but what if there are other changes?” “I agree that it’s a possibility. However, Shawn still seems to be his same self. He always did have a hunger for muscles. And his current personality still seems consistent with the person he was when I first met him. Plus, other than waiting for Shawn to return, I don’t see another way out.” “Well… I agree that we want to get you out. And I can’t pretend that this isn’t a sexy-exciting turn of events.” Mark adjusts his position, snuggling up alongside me in bed. His one hand is caressing my chest. He leans in and gives me a kiss. My erection is now throbbing to a steady beat, and I can feel the pre-cum oozing out the tip. His hand slides down my abs toward the waistband of my tented briefs. I can see the flared head of my cock outlined through my briefs – made slightly transparent by the steady flow of pre-cum. Mark caresses my abs a bit and then reaches down to cup my aching balls. They’re sensitive and feel full of cum – and they clench up tight in his hand. Mark leans down and plants a kiss on the tip of my cock. It throbs, and more pre-cum oozes out. Mark peels back the waistband of my briefs, exposing my glistening member – it’s so hard, I think I can see the veins pulsing. He cinches the waistband below my balls. My rigid cock is freed, sticking up at a 45-degree angle between my head and the ceiling. Mark gently caresses the length of the shaft. Some of the pre-cum comes away on his finger, I can see the glistening trail of cum sparkling in the light from the window. And I can also see the cum disappear as it quickly gets absorbed. It was such a small amount that I can’t really see any changes in Mark. However, I can feel his sharp intake of breath as he realizes what’s happened – and I can also feel the lump of his boner against my thigh. Mark sits up and removes his shirt. His lean frame is pale where it catches the sun from the window His muscles pump and move as he takes off the shirt and tosses it aside. And then he bends down and pops the head of my cock in his mouth. It feels so good! I feel as if I’ve been edging all day – and finally I’m getting relief! Mark’s tongue is caressing the head… his lips are running along the shaft… he’s sucking hard… pulling at the shaft… he’s gently kneading my balls… So good! I can feel the edge approaching! It starts deep in my balls, they churn with anticipation! He’s pumping the shaft, putting pressure on the base of my cock. I can feel an earth-shattering orgasm approaching as my cock flexes in preparation! The surge is rising up my shaft! The head flares! And with a primal grunt, I am cumming! Mark’s mouth eagerly vacuums it all up. Through the haze of bliss, I can already see Mark’s growth. His traps start to bulge from the rest of his back, his delts begin to expand and round out. Mark sits up straight, licking his lips. I can see the striations of the muscles in his chest dancing as they compete for space. His arms are filling out, the growth of the biceps creates a bit of a cleft with his expanding deltoids – and I can see the fullness of his triceps creating width – a well-rounded set of muscular arms. Mark was always lean, but now his abdominal ridges are pronounced, a well-defined, muscular six-pack. He’s still wearing his pants, but I can clearly see his legs expanding – the fabric tightening. And I can also see a very pronounced erection running along one hip. I can also tell that he’s now heavier – given that he’s sitting on me. “Wow.” Awe in his voice. “You look good with those muscles.” I couldn’t lie, he was a turn on before, but now he’s downright hot! “This feels amazing.” He cups the bicep of his flexed right arm – his fingers can’t reach around the mound of his bicep. “Umm… You’re sort of crushing me.” “Oh right!” Mark leans forward, his newly grown pecs are right in my face. I can feel his thighs squeezing my torso – and I can feel his erection through his pants. He reaches over my head, and manages to bend the handcuffs enough for me to get my hands out. “No struggle. Clearly it worked.” He grins as he lifts himself off me. “Pack a bag – we’re getting you out of here.”
  19. 16 points
    Here's some story...I hope you will like. Hello, My name is Jeffrey Matthews, I'm calling about the ad for the seaview villa to rent, is it still available? True the price is pretty hefty but the pictures are amazing, looks like a fantastic property. I don't know, at least a year for sure. Nah, I don't have real guarantees per se. I'm not unemployed of course, I'm... freelance. I can pay you a year in advance if that makes you feel comfortable. I'm... into sports. No it's not dirty money at all. I mean I'm not a guy from the mob, I do nothing illegal at all. Bodybuilding, that's where the cash comes from yes. Oh really? We should meet, I'm sure we'd get along well. Well, any man appreciative of the bodybuilder physique can't be a bad man! Hahahaha! Not exactly. At the villa tomorrow at 3? Perfect, that way I can check the mansion and we can chat directly it's always better. *click* -------------- So the next day I was there right on time, and the agency guy was waiting from me on the porch, I got out of my car, And I love that look he made. He sure wasn't expecting my build. I flashed him my best smile and shook his hand vigorously. We got inside, he gave me the tour, everything about the property was perfect. The high ceilings, the large designer pool and hot tub, the view, the appliances, the furniture, just perfect. We sat in the living room and the real conversation started. Right away, his topic of choice was, you guessed it, bodybuilding. " Oh you want to know more about my professional life? But of course, I will tell you all about it.You want the long version? I don't know if you have much time on your hands... Oh? Great. I also have a few hours to kill, so let's get started. That will be a honest account, but I expect confidentiality from you as it is kind of a weird, unusual adventure. See it as a trust bond between you and me, as a step forward to the business deal I hope we will agree upon. Do I have your word? OK, I believe you. So, there. I was still a chemical engineer for a major pharmaceutics company only a few years ago. After they closed the muscular diseases research department I was a part of, I was a bit on my own and didn't really rejoin another team, so I specialized on hair growth and recovery, on my own. Nothing much was available on that market, and was either too efficient or not enough, and with drastic side effects. My situation annoyed the management, and more so every passing day, as they're not fond of free agents and I didn't get any significant results. In addition, hair loss research had been a financial money pit in this industry during decades and wasn't very popular there anymore. For a while I could convince them I was on the right path, and was on the verge of something great, but after a while they finally fired me. How long ago ? Three years almost. Yes, and there I am in front of you today ! I was a poor lad on my ass back then. I wanted to go on with my research, but the other companies weren't too keen with that project neither, and I was 35 already so that didn't help, my professional network was ignoring me, so I continued my experiments in my kitchen, with the chemicals I had managed to borrow from work and a few bald mice. One day I woke up and one of the mice still had no hair gain, and that should have bothered me, but in fact the real shock was that it had more than doubled in size! And all of it pure, lean, hardcore muscle! I was baffled, and it took me a moment to realize that my fortune was made. Sure, a scotch, please. I had the formula of extreme muscle growth.Problem was, I had tried so many different formulas, and I wasn't as rigorous as I would have been in a real lab, so I couldn't find through my notes the exact formula I had used. I knew exactly from which vial came the micro-gram of product I had fed my supermouse with, but it was all I had. I tried for days to create the formula again but with no success. Furthermore, after two days, supermouse was almost back to its former shape. But it was a major discovery anyway. No, I never have been able to re-create the magical formula. Maybe I had mixed my notes with older ones from my muscle research days, but as I was out of money, about to get kicked out of my home, so I had to call back the industry moguls to sell myself at a high price. Sure that would have been better with the real recipe but they had the means to analyze my vial and reverse-engineer it. Of course. Then, I stopped to think for a moment. I had two choices in fact. Hehe glad you enjoy. So, what was it that I really wanted. Becoming filthy rich working for these blood suckers, or living the lifelong dream I never thought I could ever attain? Because deep inside, from a very young age, I had always been fascinated by the physique of huge bodybuilders. I never had been a sporty guy, quite the opposite, the feeble, weak nerd good with science, any attempt I ever made at working out had been a miserable failure. Yet I was obsessed with extreme muscle development for as far as I can remember. Hmm? Yes, obviously that was why I had specialized in muscular research to begin with. And there I was with this vial in my hand, and at this moment, I had the opportunity to live my ultimate fantasy, so impossible that it hadn't occurred to me earlier, a drop of this liquid could turn me into one of the magnificent muscular beasts I had lusted after my whole life, a massive, ultra pumped bodybuilder jam-packed with bursting muscles and oozing pure raw sex from every inch of... Oh sorry I didn't mean to arouse you that badly! I was getting there, a few uncertainties were in the balance, human experimentation was a bald move, was that worth the risk if the effects only lasted a few days, then again the condition could prove to be more stable in the human body, and certainly some training would help maintaining the muscular hypertrophy, if I messed with the product, or used it all, its mystery would never get solved, and of course there was a shitload of money to be made in a snap... But it was so tempting, the unreachable dream at my fingertips, becoming a superhuman muscle freak in a matter of hours, in my life I never had the chance to even get close to a real bodybuilder, and soon I would be able to touch, fondle, grab, delirious amounts of sublime muscles, for as much as I want, and feel that intense power, as all that muscle would be mine! I got so hornier and harder with every second that my brain could barely function, so I opened the vial and tilted it over my open mouth waiting for the drop to fall, holding my cock already to savor every instant of my mutation waiting to happen. Obviously. No, not really. Well I was on cloud nine. But so confused. No. Yes, you heard me. No, I did something else.
  20. 15 points
    Part 2 The General was amazed as he moved from the total unconsciousness of sleep to being somewhat awake and realizing he didn’t have a hangover. There was no dull headache or cloudiness of mind. He actually felt good – great, as a matter of fact. He could tell he had gotten a wonderful night’s sleep. He felt energetic – charged in some way. And there were no noticeable aches or pains – as there were on most mornings. Instead, he noticed something that had not happened in a very long time – his friend, Oscar, the cock, was fully and slightly uncomfortably engorged. Artemis had a raging hard-on. Sprouting morning wood had disappeared for the most part somewhere in is late fifties. There was the occasional surprise when he woke up, but it was usually gone by the time he stretched and yawned. This present boner, however, showed no sign of going away any time soon. Art was seriously surprised at how hard his cock was when he slipped his hand beneath the band of his boxers to grab his faithful friend, Oscar. The name had been adorned on his dick a few years ago when the General had become frustrated that perusing porn on the computer could not make his grouchy penis come to attention. The moniker had fit perfectly and the elder man had finally given up trying to use pictures to arouse Oscar. He had finally given up on trying to be sexually aroused at all. “What gives, Oscar? You been taking steroids? You’re hard as a rock and seem weirdly larger than usual. You need to lay of the drugs, son.” The General’s hand had started to move up and down the firm shaft, causing him to emit a low, hoarse-sounding moan. In the midst of the pleasure shooting through his body, Art let his mind drift back to some fuzzy images that had been in his dreams. Most of it was unclear – or he couldn’t recall – but there were definite feelings and desires awakened by this search of nighttime snippets. He suddenly thought of a huge, smooth, bubbled ass – and that made Oscar leak some sweet pre-cum – but then the ass hardened and became something much different than a woman’s backside in fishnet stockings. The General’s hand immediately stopped stroking his hard-on. The elder man shook his head – a lifetime of suppressing unwanted images returning in an instant. He let go of his penis, hoping with some desperation that the hard thing would quickly soften. However, it did not. He slid out of bed and moved to the shower with much more speed – and ease – than usual. Cold water hit his waiting body and this shocked him back to reality. A brief lapse of decorum had been ended. Something had been stuffed away – tightly. The General would explore these bits and images much more freely in forty-five days. He promised himself. For now, he simply let his still engorged cock flop around pornographically as he hopped energetically under the cold water. *********** Even in the midst of a pounding headache, terrible dry mouth, and a nauseous stomach, Ron found himself moving his fingers to his nipples and pinching them hard as he awakened to the new day. His intense hangover – caused by trying to keep up with a seasoned elder drinker – could not prevent his waking thoughts from being about the General. From the moment Artemis Scala had put his arm around the young private outside the lab, Ron had been fully hard, fully nervous, and fully sure of wanting to give his boss the enhancement fluid. The tweaking of hard nips stopped immediately as his mind allowed the thought that the drug could have killed the General during the night. Ron turned to his nightstand and grabbed his phone – registering quickly that his head felt like it had exploded. He dropped back onto his pillow as soon as he saw the locked screen of his phone. General Scala had sent a text ten minutes ago that said, ‘See your ass at the gym, First Lieutenant, in thirty minutes. That’s an order.’ Ron was immediately relieved – he had killed no one. His hands returned to his nipples and fingernails scraped back and forth, quickly. Then, Ron stopped and grabbed the phone again – re-reading the message. The General had actually typed, ‘see your ass.’ It wasn’t a lustful dream. The General never said things like that – not to Ron, well, not to anyone. What the fuck, Ron thought. Could this be some kind of reaction to the enhancement formula. That thought made Ron sit up, quickly – the action almost causing him to lose the contents of his stomach. A stupid hangover . . . hell, not even wild horses . . . no, nothing was going to keep Ron Sanders away from the gym today. He had to see if Dr. Brown’s formula had changed the General in any way. He had to see if the older man had been enhanced. Suddenly, his phone buzzed and the General’s exact message came through a second time. ********** Damn, damn, damn! Why hadn’t he paid more attention when Ron had explained how to delete a text. Everything he tried was wrong. He even accidently sent it again. What in the world had possessed him to write ‘see your ass.’ How could a seasoned army man make that kind of foolish mistake. That could be viewed as sexual harassment . . . couldn’t it? Oh shit, should he send an apology. Would that be bringing too much attention to something that didn’t matter. Was Ron the kind of guy that just saw this as regular banter between two guys or had he read something into it. And why in the hell was it bothering Art so much – that was really the question. The only good thing about all his worrying was the fact that it had soothed the beast, Oscar, and the General was actually able to put on some workout shorts. He threw on an old t-shirt, too, noticing that it had gotten pretty thin and tight from too much time in the washing machine and dryer. It was one of his favorites, too. What a pity – it would be hard to get rid of this shirt. *********** It is a nice ass, the General found himself thinking as he drove to the large gym that was on the other side of the base. Ron Sanders had the kind of butt that shot out and then curved nicely down, as if waiting for you to rest a tray of drinks on it. And the way his uniform pants rode way up into the crack emphasized the bubbliness in the same manner a well-worn glove fits your hand perfectly. A stop sign was passed unnoticed as Artemis realized where his mind had drifted off to. He couldn’t believe he had briefly contemplated Ron’s butt so intently. He, of course, had noticed it – everyone did – but he had never thought about it in exactly the way his mind had just taken him. He had overheard the girls in the front office talking about the private’s ass one day using words like ‘mighty fine,’ and ‘so deliciously perky.’ He had even seen it uncovered by clothes once in the locker room when Ron’s towel had come undone. The General had always been able to steer clear of focusing on that part of his assistant’s body – or any part of his assistant’s body. What the hell was going on with his brain . . . and his imagination . . . today. Was it because he was so close to retirement. Was his subconscious slowly getting ready for freedoms he had never known before. Suddenly, all these thoughts were put aside as the General noticed the guys down hat the car was had been playing with the features in his Lexus again. The seat was way too close to the steering wheel and the mirrors were set for someone shorter. Why did they change everything? They merely drove it for two seconds as they took it to the drying station. Why was it necessary to move things around? By the time Art had everything back in a place in a way that was comfortable for him, he was driving into the parking lot of the gym. That’s also when he noticed a familiar looking ass poking out of the back seat of a car as someone grabbed their bag. Oscar – having only today remembered what hard-ons were – skyrocketed painfully to full attention as the General beheld Ron Sanders’ glorious butt. Art thought quickly, grabbing his phone so when Ron turned and saw him he could wave the younger man on into the gym – acting like he was on a call. The General would need a few minutes for Oscar to calm down. Cotton shorts with a deep crevice between the cheeks was too much to handle. ********** Even in the midst of a painful hangover, Ron could tell there was something different about the General. He couldn’t put his finger on it perfectly, but as the older man walked across the almost empty spacious floor of the gym he had a very different air about him. Was it Ron’s imagination or did the General look taller. Also, was he bigger? The flimsy t-shirt covering his daddy body was pulled tight, stretching so much that you could see the thick salt-and-pepper hair of the General’s chest through it. Was that something new? It must have been because Ron was sure he would have noticed it before. The General also seemed to move more freely – as if he were younger or not as stiff as he used to be. “You look like something the cat dragged in, young fella.” Young fella? Where the hell did that come from, the General thought. It was not like him to say things like that – yet it just came out, as natural as breathing. Ron’s face changed briefly, as if noting the weird greeting, but then immediately went back to his professional ‘good morning, sir’ face. Art resisted the urge to hug the younger man, squeezing him hard and lifting him off the floor in his arms. He couldn’t even believe this idea lodged in his brain as he beheld his assistant. What the hell was going on with him – and why was Oscar starting to awaken again as Art beheld the nice firm torso of Ron Sanders. This was getting seriously out of control. He immediately moved his big bag in front of his crotch and acted like he was looking for something. “Good morning, sir. I’m afraid I’m not feeling one hundred percent this morning, sir. I had a few too many whiskeys.” “Ahhhh, it’s good for you, youngster! It will put hair on your chest. Make a man out of you!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Art wanted to reach out, grab them, and shove them back in. This was not the way he spoke. He would never say something like this to his assistant. He sounded like some arrogant cocky asshole. And at the same time, there was something so familiar about it, too. It was as if he had been wanting to talk this way for a long time . . . as if he actually liked it. At the same time, the General realized his body was itching all over – as if he were covered in poison ivy or something. He also could feel how tight his clothes seemed – around his chest, around his biceps, around his thighs – hell, even his toes felt cramped inside his shoes. He pushed all of this out of his mind, however, as he forced himself to lead the way to the locker room. He was intentionally silent – so he wouldn’t say anything else he’d regret. He also avoided looking at Ron’s hot body.
  21. 15 points
    “Dude, do you even know how to work out?” Henry laughed as he set down his own weights. He walked over to someone who was struggling with them. Even if this guy had an okayish physique, the way he lifted looked like he’d never been in a gym before and Henry wasn’t about to watch some amateur tear a bicep or something. “I know!” Stan defended himself. “I know how to do it!” Henry backed off. “Okay man,” he held up his hands defensively. “I’m just trying to help.” Stan scowled. A low growl hung in his throat. “Look man,” Henry continued, “really, I know what it was like to be smaller. And hurting yourself isn’t going to make you bigger faster. You need to take your time with it.” “Yeah right! You’re just saying that. I wish you were smaller than me and I was your size so you really could know what I feel like right now,” Stan shouted. A cosmic coincidence seemed to want to grant that wish. Somewhere the magic had escaped and forced its way into the small gym. Lights flashed and wind picked up where there shouldn’t have been any at all. But the wish was granted. Stan felt it in his body. Muscles started to build onto his average frame. He could feel the strength adding each second as more and more weight was added to his body. Each second his biceps added another inch, his shoulders pushed further out of his sides, thick quads filled his shorts and even thicker calves turned into a solid diamond shape. He could feel his blood flowing faster, filling his muscles with oxygen. They flexed almost on reflex. He could see the definition build more. The thick rounded muscles had veins bulging out of his body. He wiggled his toes that had burst out of the front of his shoes. The same looked to be happening to his shirt as it lifted up to show off the bottom two rows of his abs. But the exact opposite thing was happening to Henry. With each pound that Stan had gained, Henry had lost it. His large imposing body quickly shrank to almost nothing. His strong arms dwindled and hung almost lifelessly next to his scrawny torso. The sleeveless shirt hung off his small shoulders as one of the bands slipped to the side. Henry had to tilt his head back further and further to get a proper look of Stan. “Damn…” it almost sounded like it was a moan. “Why are you so hot?” “What,” Stan made it sound more like a statement than a question. “Jesus Christ…” Henry felt his body drifting closer to Stan. The first two steps, he lost both of his shoes. The shorts were next as they couldn’t fit around his thinner hips. His hands reached out for the powerful muscles still barely being held back by the clothes the now bodybuilder was wearing. It was at least two to three sizes too small to fit across his massive torso. “You’re just so fucking hot. I just want to touch you.” Stan backed up. But there weren’t many places to go in the empty gym. He only said the wish out of anger and frustration, not realizing that most of that was built in from not being seen as anything other than a weakling in the eyes of the stud. He was working out to get stronger, hoping that he might catch the handsome man’s eyes, but was still only seen as pathetic. A devious grin filled Henry’s face as Stan pushed his body against the wall. “What’s wrong big guy?” Henry pushed his hand against Stan’s abs and slid it up to his pecs. The tiny hands gave the massive muscle a squeeze. “This is how you felt right? Horny?” Stan let out an unrecognizable sound as his body seemed to flex at the sensation. His shirt tore even more and toes wiggled around outside of the front of his shoes. “That’s not what I meant…” he groaned, trying to keep his wits, but they were rapidly failing. His body wasn’t reacting the way he thought it should. He was the hot stud, yet he was being led around by someone half his size. “Isn’t it? I mean you’re so big and sexy now. You’re just so strong,” Henry’s hands roamed around Stan’s torso a bit more and then found their way onto his bicep. He gave it a firm squeeze. Stan seemed to flex almost on reflex, tearing at the shirt even more. Huge holes formed around the seams and the sleeve had ripped up to his shoulder. “And I just want to help make you bigger. And stronger…” Henry stood on his tiptoes and just barely made it to Stan’s lips. He let his light weight fall against the muscular man and ran his hands up his sides. His mouth broke past Stan’s defenses and he explored his body even more. A hand dipped into Stan’s shorts and gripped his cock. “Don’t worry big guy,” Henry mocked, “I know my way around the gym. I’ll make sure you learn all the proper form. Making sure you grow nice and strong.” Another strange syllable was caught in Stan’s throat. He felt his body flex as he lost control of his sexual tension. The mess was quickly dripping into his underwear and then pooling around his feet. He didn’t even notice the remains of his shirt rip apart as his whole body flexed. “Oh my God… This isn’t what I meant. This isn’t what I meant.” “Too bad,” Henry took off his shirt and threw it at Stan. His skinny naked body stood in the empty gym. Stan felt himself get hard again seeing the confidence in his small body. “This is how it’s going to be. And if you think for one second I’m going to let you ruin that body, you’re dead wrong.” Henry started going through Stan’s bag to find his old clothes and then slipped them on. They were a little big, but still at least something he could fit into. “Now we’ve got a workout to finish.” “But…” “No buts!” his finger pointed at Stan’s chest. “If you wanted that body so bad, you’re going to have to work for it.” Henry’s voice calmed down as he realized how nervous Stan still was. “Doesn’t mean we won’t enjoy it together from time to time though.” “Right…” Stan agreed. He looked up and down his body again wondering if he was really upset by what the wish had given him.
  22. 15 points
    While Ellis was showering I decided to go downstairs, I needed space to compute what had just happened during the past 10 mins or so, I had literally just become putty In my fit brothers strong hands, an 18yr old hunk making a 23yr old feel like a child getting a new toy. Ellis had me in a muscle hunk trance and one that he knew I enjoyed and if I’m honest so the fuck did I. I admit I would have been happy just to set eyes on his incredible body the whole time I was here but now with the whole worship thing I really do feel like that child. Around 15 mins later Ellis made his way back down stairs to the kitchen, luckily for my crotch , considering where we were, he wasn't wearing anything tight but opted for some baggyish grey joggers and a loose tee, even with them on you could still just about see the solid curvature of his pecs, and the roundness of his plump squatters arse. During tea the conversation was mostly about how my new life down south was coming on and future aspirations etc. Ellis was on to me though using every opportunity when mam wasnt looking to wink at me and bounce those ridiculous pecs of his under his shirt, each round of winks and bounces edged my bulge closer to making a visible bulge in my pants, a part of me wanted him to stop as we were nearly finished so I’d have a raging hard on when I stood up, but part of me couldn’t resist just watching as he effortlessly made me internally groan with delight. Ellis rightly or wrongly showed a little mercy and stopped, letting my bulge settle down, we both knew the main event was getting closer. Ellis told his mam that I was going to help him with some course work, we both left the table and headed upstairs, my heart was going 10 to the dozen, what would await me when that bedroom door closed? What did my hot brother have in store for me? I was about to find out, we got to the bedroom, I went in Ellis followed and closed the door behind him, here we go! “ So brother you want to feel what a hard muscular 18yr old body feels like do you? You want to feel every inch of this physique dont you, you want to feel what its like to be strong and have muscles, isn’t that right? ” As if a switch had been flicked inside his head, Ellis had gone from my younger bro to being a freaking hot dominant muscle master. That trance like feeling had been replaced with a real mental hold that Ellis now had over me, I was powerless to resist both mentally and physically, as mentioned Ellis can deadlift nearly 200kg, he'd make easy work of me! “ YES, YES, YES,YES! “ Is all could muster to say. I took a breath, “ I would love nothing more then to get my hands on such awesome muscles like yours, feel how solid they are, feel there power, you are right in everything you say bro.!!” Ellis smiled, “ good little brother, that’s right, little, I’m the bigger brother now right! Your nothing compared to me brother, I’m inferior to you in every way! Now come here and worship your godly brother.” Ellis then grabbed the V part of his tee round his neck, RIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPP, with no effort at all Ellis ripped his tee clean off his body, that muscular body of his primed and ready, I did need a second invitation. “ YES SIR” I blurted out, I moved the quickest i ever think i have towards him. My hands went straight for those bulbous pecs of his, taking in every inch of there fullness, roundness and hardness, I let out a groan as Ellis tensed them and made them impossibly harder, I couldn’t make a dent in them even if I tried. “ so hard so beautiful “ I exclaimed. I thrust my fingers deep into his pec gap, mmmm the power they must have. I move my hands down to his ripped toned midsection, taking in every ridge n rivet of his strong abs, God they felt hard as marble. “ punch me now brother! “ Ellis demands in a commanding tone. I look at him, “ er er er bro I’m not going to hi.......” Ellis' face turns angry, “ PUNCH me now you weak fuck!” he barks . I gulp hard in fear, a punch from Ellis would do 100x more damage to me then I would do to him, I shakingly ball up my fist, I move my arm back and with as much power as I had I aim a punch into his abs, “arghhh" I cry out as my hand feels like it’s just struck a mable slab, Ellis’ abs didn’t even buckle, my hand crumpled away, “ hahah impenetrable bro" Ellis mocks my attempt. “ yes bro they are, you are one solid 18yr old!” I quickly move my hands away and towards his arms, taking in the rippling muscle and size of his forearms, even to the touch you could feel the power surging through them. I slowly move to his biceps and triceps, tracing my finger round the noticeable mound that make you the horseshoe of his tricep, fuuuuck it looked thick and felt juicy, Ellis curled his arm to bring up the peak of his bicep, “ whoah fuuuuuuck" It wasn't even a proper flex but sweet jesus that peak balled up high on his arm, I clasped my hand round it my God it felt like molten lava, I thought his pecs were hard but christ his biceps took on a whole new level of hardness. As much as I wanted to keep worshipping those peaks I had to move on and upwards to his globe like shoulders, each shoulder was capped off with solid rippling mounds of lean muscle. During all this my insanely hard cock was doing its upmost to free itself from the confines of my trousers. Ellis shrugged his shoulders, my hands fell off easily. He turned round so his back was facing me, well when I say back I’m meant the 18yrold son of the Grand Canyon, fuuuuck Ellis’ back was built! I was just about to get my hands firmly on when he hit 2 unbelievable poses. Firstly a back double biceps: I didn’t even wait for the nod, I was straight in there, my bro had arms any grown man would be proud of. Just check out those peaks and believe me there just as impressive in the flesh, God help anyone who has to arm wrestle him, destroyed instantly! Then came the lat spread: It should be criminal for a 18yr old to have a back like that! Just look at that thickness and width, in-fucking- sane, my hands went straight for those lats, I grabbed as much of those meaty wings as I could, they felt unreal, slabs of pure solid muscle just hanging there like hams on a meat hook. Feeling the power that was flowing through Ellis' body and those muscles feeling like his body had been carved from the finest marble was beginning to make me feel weak at the knees.
  23. 14 points
    It was late at night, when the stream finally came on. Seth77 was something of a legend in the muscle camming world. His streams were rare, but the recordings were something many guys got themselves off every night. Many donated hundreds to his account with every stream. What was so special about Seth? Well... The camera was on. A large well built white male played with the focus and framing until, finally, he managed to get a shot of his liking and stepped away from the lens. His body was quite a pleasure to look at, his arms were nice and thick, his pecs formed clear outlines pressed against his shirt, his clear-cut abs were visible as the white top wasn't long enough to cover them. Seth stroke a pose, flexing his muscles and showing them off to the camera, before he stepped away from the frame with the words: "Look who I got. This guy is a fighter!" The camera focused on a black bodybuilder, tied to the bed, struggling to break free. His smooth black skin covered his thick, beefy pecs, outlined his thick, bulging biceps, wrapped around each individual brick of his array of abdominals. His thighs were bigger than people's heads. His exposed shaft was flaccid, but was clearly at least good 7 inches. His heavy sack layed on the clear white sheets and his face was covered by a black mask. The guy was at least 6'8"! And all of that muscle could've been at least 380 pounds!! But for how glad the chat seemed to see the guy, he was using every last fibre of his huge body to break from the restrains around his wrists and ankles and take down Seth, his captor. ""As always, a straight strong guy from the street. Bet how long that will last, hehe." Seth said before moving towards the bed. Seth was sizeable but nowhere near the guy he had within his restrains. Seth's profile said that he was 6'2" but he was probably even shorter than that. 220lbs was probably also a bit too much, but it was not Seth who everybody came to enjoy, it was what Seth was capable of doing. The host of the stream was standing at the side of the bed, looming down at his perfect catch. Seth reached forward, his hand engulfing the guy's pectoral, giving it a tight squish. The guy struggled in protest, unable to say anything as it seemed he had something stuck in his mouth. He just violently jerked his body back and forth. Seth outstretched his other arm, cupping the other pec with it, enjoying the beefy muscle. Once he played around with the sensitive nipples, forcing them to harden, he slipped his fingers down the bodybuilder's torso, down to his abdominals. The host spent a good amount of time, rubbing every single brick. Each one individually. Pressing against it, circling around it with his finger, rubbing it with his palm. Once he was done there, he moved his palms lower, across the guy's exposed crotch, to his tree-trunk thighs. Rubbing the smooth skin that covered the mighty muscles, Seth turned towards the guy's head. "You like that, don't ya'?" he asked, returning his hands back up to the guys shoulders, "Being touched." The warm palms slipped under his armpits, "Admired." Seth continued down the arms, finally pressing the bulging, all pent up biceps, "Being worshipped." The host then lowered his head, sticking out his tongue and licking one of the hard nipples, playing with it, sucking at it, all the while he was caressing those strong biceps. The guy seemed to struggle more and more as he had realized what he had gotten himself into. Seth tended to that nipple, moving over the balloon-like pecs to taste the other. His hands moved to the guy's free pectoral and his abdominals. His fingers rubbed up and down across them, while the other hand groped the meaty slab. The bodybuilder grunted loudly. More in anger than anything else. Seth pulled away and then heaved himself over the guy, sitting at his massive thighs, facing him. He turned around, to grab onto the camera and pull it to the side of the bed, giving it a clear view of the bodybuilder's massive torso and his exposed crotch. The captured guy had two holes to look through in that black mask. And he couldn't do anything else but to watch the strong body of his captor. Seth was clearly hard. That much his leathery jockstrap showed. Seth took that thick bulge of his and started rubbing it against the bodybuilder's meat, nicely grinding it against it, while he reached for the bodybuilder's pecs, squeezing them and lowering his head to lick the guy's abdominals, all the way from his crotch to the valley between his pectorals. The guy was stopping to struggle as he was tended to. That was a good sign for Seth, who smirked and straightened himself again. He raised his arms and showed off his bulging biceps as well, still swaying his hips and grinding his bulge against the bodybuilder's massive shaft. The white host was showing off his muscles, licking his own biceps, showing off his bouncing pecs, playing with his abdominals, showing off in all possible angles. The helpless bodybuilder couldn't do anything else but just watch. "Ah, what's this? Did I just get a straight guy hard?" Seth asked rhetorically with a fiendish smile. The bodybuilder was silent, while his already long meat was hardening. Once Seth was done with his display, he reached down for the thick black meat and gave it a rub. "Would you look at that! That's at least a foot of a cock!" he said excitedly. Seth had a gift. Well... two big gifts, actually. And the first was clearly demonstrated now; he could make even the straightest of guys all worked up for his muscled gay self. The captor now lowered his chest, pressing the bodybuilder's meat right in between his pecs, and he flexed them. He then pulled his torso forward, forcing the guy's shaft to rub all over his muscled chest. He tickled the tip with his nipple, then pushed against it with a flex, he let the tip explore his abdominals, and at the end, he lowered completely, and grinded his abs against the twitching shaft for a while, pressing it in between his own and the bodybuilder's. When Seth pulled away, there was a column of pre that stretched from his abdominals to the throbbing meat. "I can't believe you have a girlfriend, hehe." the host noted with satisfaction. When Seth straightened again, the tip of his meat was poking from under the blue band of his jocks. His own shaft was calling to him, begging to be tended to. But the captor resisted his temptations and returned back to teasing his catch. This time, he lowered his arm. He showed off his thick bicep right behind the bodybuilder's throbbing shaft. He flexed the bulge a few times, before he forced the tip in between the muscles of his hand, squeezing it tight and rubbing it up and down. There was a grunt that came from the captured guy. This time it was a grunt of pleasure. Seth truly managed it; he took a larger guy than him, a straight guy that is, and forced him to leak pre all over his biceps. The guy struggled, shivered as he felt his shaft being jerked off by the strong muscles of his captor. He was getting so close. How? How is he this close?! He's straight!! Seth could feel the shivers, the tell tale signs of approaching climax. He let go off that eager meat. Seth then could swear he hard a cry of disappointment, which only made him hornier. "I think it's time, guys!" he noted, announcing the moment all the viewers came for. That other big gift of his. The host moved his head downward, his tongue gave the twitching tip a lick, scooping off that big drop of pre that formed there. Then he pushed all of that meat up into his mouth. The entire foot of shaft we up his mouth and down his throat, bulging out at a spot on his neck. And finally, Seth would start sucking, swallowing, coiling his tongue around the thick meat, slowly pushing and pulling, doing anything he could to force the bodybuilder to cum. It was no hard task as the bodybuilder was practically begging for a release now. A squirt of thick pre gushed out of Seth's own meat and fell onto the bodybuilder's thighs. Seth swallowed. And that was the last bit. The last nudge. The last push the captured and helpless bodybuilder needed to be sent right over the edge. His shaft started sending waves after waves of the bodybuilder's nice, warm, fresh and thick cum, right down Seth's throat. He gulped it down all with ease. And even though that was the bodybuilder's climax, the audience was only getting more and more excited, in anticipation of what's to come. The captured guy was starting to run dry, but Seth was still firmly holding that shaft, sucking and swallowing. "What was he doing?" the bodybuilder wondered. Seth then extended his arms and grabbed onto the guy's thick pecs. Seth sucked hard, powerfully, like a thick drink. There was a tingling sensation on the bodybuilder's chest, right where those unwelcome palms were. Seth seemed to want to suck the bodybuilder completely dry, but then he noticed something. And he was speechless. "It's happening!" somebody typed in the chat. The bodybuilder's pecs were shrinking. The round balloony shape was disappearing. Seth continued to literally suck, as if nothing was amiss. The pecs continued on shirking and shrinking, all of that hard work seemed to be just disappearing. All of the hours on bench press were slipping through the bodybuilder's fingers. It didn't take that long, until the pecs were no more. Just two nipples on a flat ribcage. Seth finally pulled away, released the guy's meat and straightened a bit. The bodybuilder was shocked, while the audience was having the time of their lives. Seth has somehow gained a loot of beef. His pecs were massive compared to the rest of his body. They were not his. They were of his captured bodybuilder! He stole them! Seth flexed those massive pectorals, he cupped them and rubbed them a couple of times, pressed them between his arms to make them super pop out. They were magnificent! Even larger than the bodybuilder's! Seth smirked for a while, displaying his new muscles, only to return to wrapping his lips around the black shaft of his capture, moments later. This time Seth didn't take all of that shaft. Only the head. And he sucked. His hands wrapped around that thick meat. And as if by magic, the shaft was shrinking. Shortening and becoming thinner. One could only imagine where that mass was going. Seth's own shaft was expanding, growing and stretching more and more from under the band of the jockstraps. Seth reached for the heavy orbs, stealing them for himself as well, making his own grow to the size of apples. Seth systematically was sucking all of the bodybuilder's size right out of him. He touched his thighs and he siphoned them right out. Making the tree-trunks look more like toothpicks. He reached for the bodybuilder's shoulder and stole the wide round joints for himself. He slipped to the guy's biceps and started expanding his own. Forcing them to grow so massive, many veins started to pop out, and the arms to look like they didn't belong to that small body. Once he was done making the guy's arms look like sticks, he reached for his abs, and with just a few sucks at his shaft, Seth had all of that mass on his torso, sporting a proud eight-pack, so very cleanly chiseled into his smooth skin. Only thing left in the bodybuilder was his overall size, and that was exactly what Seth lusted for right now. He grabbed onto the guy's hips and started sucking. His frame grew larger and the "bodybuilder's" shrunk. The weight of his growing body was harder and harder for the captured guy to take, as his size reduced to 6'4" then 6'1" followed by 5'8" and all the way down to 5'2". The guy who used to be a massive bodybuilder was just a short black twink now. A twink who had a 8'2" tall, 550lbs bodybuilder on top of him, just barely crushing his bones. Seth finally released the twink's shaft. He straightened and started admiring his newfound size. He explored that gained height, his head firmly pressed against the ceiling, and his arms holding it as if he was Atlas. The jockstraps were long gone, the band snapped and the leathery cloth was laying beside Seth. Finally, there was one last matter to be resolved. Set's massive 1'4" shaft was calling to him. He firmly grasped it and rubbed it right above the tired fellow he captured. He beat that meat vigorously, covering the guy's bare flat chest with his sticky pre. Seth reached for his nipples with his free hand and pushed onto them. Then he cupped his massive meaty pectoral. Then he groped his apple sized orbs, enjoying the heft of his sack. He showed off his biceps, all round and veiny, thicker than the guy's head. He jerked more and more violently, until his orbs started releasing rope after rope of his thick cum, splashing it right into the helpless guy's face, and all over his torso, just before Seth forcefully opened the guy's jaw and forced that meat in. He tried to seal his mouth as tightly with his free hand as he could, forcing the helpless guy to swallow all of the never ending stream of cum gulp by gulp. Seth spent at least a good minute and a half intensively cumming, until the stream finally thinned and slowed down into a leaking trickle which he let drip over the former biceps of his helpless companion. That was it. That was why people loved to watch Seth's streams so much. That is his unmatched gift! "So who wants to be next?" the massive beast of a man asked towards the camera.
  24. 14 points
    Hope everyone is doing well in 2020
  25. 14 points
    Closed for re-editing
  26. 13 points
    Chapter 15 The rest of the day was thankfully uneventful. That was, of course, until Mo and I drove home. Even just approaching my little blue car, it looked laughably small. I got to the door and just stood there. Mo did too. “Aren’t you going to get in?” I asked him. “After you. I want to make sure there’s room for me first.” With an exasperated grunt, I opened the door. When I got in, the door didn’t want to close. I had to turn to the side to get my car door to close. That task accomplished, I realized my legs were pressed tightly together, and the brawn of my ass was pushing me forward, ramming my bulge uncomfortably into the wheel. I hadn’t gotten any taller, but I had to move my seat back just to accommodate my ass. When I buckled my seatbelt, the fabric of the belt landed in the canyon between my pecs, separating them further, making them look bigger. If I got any more muscular, I wasn’t going to fit into my own car. “You can get in now, Mo,” I told him. “Can I?” he asked comically. “I mean, I’m a pretty big fellow myself. I’m no Ian Myers, but I’ve got some heft on me.” “Just get in.” When Mo sat next to me, my shoulder pressed into his. I could swear I heard Mo let out a sigh of relief. Then it hit me: the entire time he was helping me get dressed in my office, Mo had never touched me. Not once. No hugs, tickles, punches—nothing. Had he been scared to touch me? I laughed to myself and started the car. Neither of us really had any room, but I had just enough space to steer. “Intimate,” he said. “When Oz gets home, make sure to drive him somewhere. Anywhere. He’ll pop his cork before you get down the street.” “Very funny.” We drove home, made dinner, and started to get ready for Alexander’s visit. At the last minute, Mo decided he had to shower and change into something comfy. To his logic, this was a casual hangout, not a proper date. No sooner was he in the shower then Alexander showed up. I had just put out a bowl of popcorn in a big red ceramic monstrosity that looked like it belonged in a 1950s issue of Good Housekeeping. If we’re going campy, we’re going all the way. “I brought wine that goes great with snack food,” Alexander said, holding up a bottle of red wine. Having been raised in the lap of luxury, Alexander always brought the best wines to hang-outs, and I’d long ago learned to trust his choices. Alexander planted himself on the couch while I went to get some glasses. “Any idea what you want to watch?” I asked from the kitchen. “Something with no more than a 30% approval rating.” “Sounds perfect,” I said, returning with the glasses. Normally, I would just sit right down next to Alexander—sometimes we’d even cuddle while watching movies. Not tonight. I sat on the armchair opposite the couch. “What sort of movies does Cayden like?” Alexander asked. There may have been a leading tone, but it was equally likely I imagined it. “He might say 30% is a bit too high of a rating.” Mo walked in with a towel around his waist, his buff, hairless torso completely exposed, and his hair still dripping. He was red and glowing from the shower. “I only like things that are godawful crap or sublime art.” “Got it,” Alexander said, averting his eyes. “I’ll just be a second,” Mo said, running to go get changed. “If you’re wondering,” I said, “yes, he was flirting with you just then.” “Really?” “Yeah.” “Good to know,” Alexander said. Mo came back out dressed in a tight sweatshirt and pajama pants. “Let’s get this shit-fest started!” he shouted, taking my usual seat next to Alexander on the couch. While the movie was playing, Alexander held the bowl of popcorn in his lap. Mo would occasionally reach over and grab a handful suggestively, and then eat the kernels one by one, only to repeat the move a few moments later. Each time, he scooted just a bit closer to Alexander until, eventually, his legs and Alexander’s were intertwined and Mo had his arm around Alexander’s shoulders. After the first movie ended, a gloriously debauched gay slasher film, we were in the mood for something funnier. Scrolling through the suggestions, Alexander asked, “So, Cayden, I know you’re only at C&G for a week or so. Where do you normally work?” “An international law firm,” he said. “I could tell you its name, but I doubt you’ve heard of it.” “Cool. What do you know about estate law?” “Enough. Why? You making a will?” Alexander nodded vaguely. “Something like that.” “Well, if you have any questions, I’d be more than happy to answer.” Alexander turned to Mo and said bluntly, “If I asked the question I really wanted to ask, you’d think I was proposing to you.” “Let’s see how tonight goes first,” Mo joked. Obviously a little embarrassed, Alexander offered me the bowl of popcorn. “You haven’t had any all night,” he insisted. I hesitated, looking at Mo. Surreptitiously, Mo nodded, encouraging me to go for it. I reached into the bowl, intentionally grazing Alexander’s hand. “Get out of here, Mo,” I said, and Mo complied. Alexander put the bowl of popcorn to the side, and began slipping out of his clothes. I stood there stolidly, watching him disrobe, revealing his creamy skin, his pink nipples, his appreciative cock. When he’d finished stripping himself, he stripped me. I put up no resistance, but I gave him no help. I was so much taller than him, he had to jump to get my shirt off. Once we were both completely naked, he led me to the couch, and we curled up under the same blanket. He rested his head on my chest, and I held him close. It felt so safe, so cozy. My hand lightly gripped his cock, and he already was so close to orgasm. I squeezed his cock just a little, and he let out a high-pitched squeaking noise, almost mouse-like, and then my hand was wet with his cum. As soon as he had reached his climax, I felt his hand slowly trace down my hairy abs, gently fluffing the hair and playing with my muscular midsection. I bent over and kissed him on the forehead, and his hand continued its journey down my body. When it hit my cock, I was surprised just how warm Alexander’s hand was. He slowly stroked my cock, up and down, and it responded by lazily thickening and hardening. I leaned over a little further, tilting his head up with the arm I had around his shoulder, and began kissing him softly and sweetly on the lips. His grip on my cock tightened, and suddenly my cock was at full mast. Alexander ran his hand all the way down its length, stroked the top with just two fingers, then ran his hand all the way back up. Every now and again, he tugged at my balls, just hard enough that it was on the pleasurable side of pain. The whole time, we never stopped kissing. As I drew closer to climax, his speed picked up. At the same time, though, I heard a noise coming from the far side of the apartment. I stopped kissing so I could look up. Into the living room walked Mo, completely naked, his 8-inch cock fully hard. He sauntered across the room and sat down on the couch behind Alexander. As soon as he was under the blanket with us, he guided his cock into Alexander and began to slowly thrust in and out. At the same time, he was kissing the back of Alexander’s neck, his hands slowly sliding down until they enveloped Alexander’s cock. Mo’s hands were too large to both fit on Alexander’s cock, a pert 5.5 inches, so one reached across Alexander’s lap until it found my cock, gently caressing the tip, and then… The popcorn bowl tumbled to the floor, shattering. Mo was on the couch, dressed. Alexander was dressed. I was dressed. None of it had happened, but my cock was humming as though it had. I withdrew my hand from Alexander’s so quickly that I had knocked the popcorn bowl clear out of his hand. “Sorry,” I said. I dropped to the floor and began picking up my mess, my ass and erection pulling my pants in two separate directions as I bent. The base of the bowl was still mostly intact, so I used it to hold the ceramic shards and stray kernels. “I loved that bowl,” Alexander said despondently. “I’ve got two more just like it. One blue, one yellow.” “I’m sure it was my fault,” Alexander said. “It really wasn’t,” I said. “Mo, could you come into the kitchen and help me make a fresh bowl?” With that, I was carrying the broken bowl into the kitchen. “Sure thing,” Mo answered, extricating himself from Alexander’s embrace. I put a new serving of kernels in the air popper, and as soon as I turned it on, it made enough noise that Mo and I could talk without Alexander hearing. “What up, Eenie?” Mo asked. “Did you learn anything helpful?” “I doubt it. But I didn’t finish watching his fantasy.” “What could have been so bad?” “He wants a three-way with the two of us.” Mo smirked. “That dirty little minx.” I put the yellow ceramic bowl in front of the popper to catch the popcorn. “Don’t joke. You don’t know how real these visions are. I felt your hand on my cock.” Mo rolled his eyes and placed a hand on my arm. “No vision, right?” I nodded. “That’s Alexander’s fantasy. Not mine.” “You said these visions couldn’t lie to me.” Mo grunted. “Fine. If Alexander wanted to have a ménage a trois with the both of us, he could be Lucky Pierre. But outside of that, I don’t want to fuck you, Eenie.” After a moment, he added, so quietly I could have imagined it, “Not yet at least.” “Well,” I said, still reeling a little, “now I know what a handjob from Alexander would feel like.” “Was I good?” Mo asked. “That’s your question? That is your question?” “So, he’s got a thing for brothers. It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard. Don’t be such a prude.” “You said it was a possible future, Mo.” “One possible future. Yes. I didn’t say a likely future.” “Please. You strutted around the apartment half-naked when Alexander showed up. You want him bad.” “Guilty as charged. But just because I want to fuck him does not mean you and I are getting it on, brother.” “You still plan on fucking him tonight?” “If he’s willing.” “He’s willing. Oh, is he ever willing. Go slow and romantic.” “Thanks for the tip.” I cringed a little. “Don’t say ‘tip’ around me for a little bit.” The popcorn was finished, so I turned off the popper. “I know you have lube in your nightstand. But, do you and Austin have any spare condoms?” Mo asked. “We stopped using those when we got married,” I said. “I used my last condom on my Grindr date on Friday. Where’s the nearest drugstore?” “It’s like three blocks that way,” I said, pointing east. Mo dashed into the living room. “Hey, Alexander, I’m going to pop out to buy some condoms. That cool with you?” Alexander nodded, suppressing a grin. “You want anything?” Mo asked. Alexander shook his head. When Mo left, I came back out into the living room and sat a safe arm’s distance away from Alexander on the couch. “You okay with us doing that here?” Alexander asked. “Better here than your shoebox apartment.” I could still feel Alexander’s lips pressed against mine. And part of me, a small but loud part of me, wanted to just pick him up and start kissing him. It would be so easy to give in. The whole thing was surreal. “You are too cool. Both of you are.” “Because he’s willing to have sex at his brother’s apartment?” “Well, you know he hates Oz.” I knew it. I knew it! I blurted out, “I knew it!” “Yeah. He told me at lunch yesterday,” Alexander said through a mouthful of popcorn. “You didn’t hear it from me,” Alexander continued, leaning in, “but he wouldn’t have come to visit if Oz was here. Cayden spent a good five minutes talking about how he wished you and Oz would get divorced. He even said he’d help you get laid if that’s what you wanted.” My brother wanted me to cheat on Oz. Well, fuck. “Excuse me,” I said, leaving Alexander alone in the living room. It was only three minutes before Mo returned. I hid in my bedroom and made myself scarce for a few hours. I had to gather my thoughts.
  27. 13 points
    “Naw really dude! This game has changed my life, it really does make you healthier!” “Ok ok I get it, I’ll give it a try. You do sound pretty different… You’ve only been at it for like 3 months, how much have you been playing?” “Like literally nonstop! I played it so much the company even sent me a promotional t-shirt, it’s awesome, I’m wearing it right now!” “Oh… Wow you were like what, 140 lbs soaking wet before you left for school… after all that walking you must be a twig.” “What? 140!? Are you nuts? I haven’t weighed that since like middle school.” “Middle School? No offense, but you’ve always been like one of the scrawniest guys I know.” “Dude I’m taking a selfie right now, does this look scrawny?” “What the hell happened to you, you’re huge!” “What are you talking about? I’ve only put on like 4 more pounds since moving up here.” “…Oh… …Where did you say you got that shirt from again?”
  28. 12 points
    Chapter 1: (AM note: as every story goes, first chapter lays a lot of groundwork for some major growth later) Medusa seems confused as she look at her stores of black blood. She looks around the room only to see a shadow slide out of the room. Black arrows slide along the walls as Medusa chases the shadow. The shadowy man flips and dives away as arrows attack off the walls, slowing his getaway attempt. a clash of a dagger helps divert arrows away from dealing any serious damage to the man. Finally however the magic takes the better of the man and the arrows whip around him, constraining and tightening around him until Medusa comes to face him. The man himself was a rather shorter 5' 4" man, wiry and lithe as only someone taller can normally be, but athletic enough to explain the aerial maneuvers he had been doing previously. Maroon brown short hair topped a rather cute face that gave the impression of being that of a young boys, but with enough lines to show the true maturity of his age of likely 30 years. Medusa began to put together how she would respond in a witty way when the man began laughing. "Well I knew this was a stupid idea but guess my luck finally ran out. Before you decide to bake me into a pie I should mention I'm not quite the spryest spring chicken" Medusa couldn't help but smile at the humour of her hopeless prisoner. "It was particularly more stupid then I think you could imagine. Do you even know what you are messing around with?" The man laughs harder. "Black blood? I've seen the damage your little son has wrecked. Colour me intrigued." Medusa seems to weigh the man up. "A power thirsty man. Can you explain to me why I should entertain this talk any longer?" "Because I think you would be interested in putting black blood through it's paces." Medusa seems to chew on this "What did you have in mind?" "You made Crona so mentally traumatized, in an effort to allow Ragnarok the ability to control him. Aren't you at least a little curious to see what happens when someone's goals align with it?" "Now listen here little man. Based on our conversation, you just want power. Let me guess here. You have always been overlooked and felt weak. You have spent your life trying to make yourself skilled, but it's not enough. You can't hunt for the academy, you can't even steal from me well, or escape." The black arrows let the man down, humour not seeing to be present on his face any longer. It all had bled into Medusa's toothy grin. "Boy, you think you are so different then Crona, you are just as hopeless as he is." With that Medusa approaches, takes the black blood from the man's pocket. An arrow comes from behind and pierces the man through the chest, suspending him in the air before Medusa. She unstoppers the black blood and pours it into the wound. "Let's experiment." The black blood seeped into the man's body immediately. With that Medusa's arrow flings him out a door and onto the ground. The man, groggy as ever got up and slowly slumped away, trying to piece together what had just happened, and what had cut both sides of his shirt but not so much as scratched his skin apparently. Stepping into his house he stumbles on, his mind a buzz until a voice comes from the corners of his mind. "let me in, and I will give you the power you crave" He moves on, stumbling into a kitchen to get a drink. He had gone to steal the black blood. "You did, and you succeeded. Let me take control, and I will make you strong." The man stops. He definitely heard something that time. "I can make you do anything. Untold strength. Give over to me" It came back to him. The theft, the attack, the blood. "You are the black blood... Aren't you...?" "I am. You are weak, do you want to be strong?" The man grabbed his water and looked across a kitchen island, as if he were talking to someone sitting there. "I will be strong." "I want to help you." "I want your help." "Give yourself over to me" The man looks down, and then once his deliberation was done he lifted his head. "I won't do that." "WHAT!" With that a black figure bursts from the man's back. Pure black and muscular with a large white 'X' over it's face. "You are small, you're weak, you're pathetic. You couldn't become anything without me, so give into it." The man grabs the creatures wide shoulders and pins it to the island. "And how pathetic would it make me to give myself away to you! I don't want you to control me, I want you to help me. I worked for it, and I will continue to work for it. So you can help me or I swear to god I will rip you out of my back, throw you in a blender, and drink you down just so I can do it again." The black blood monster laughs uproariously, catching the man off guard. "I don't know if you know. I'm already in your head, Stephen. I'm so muscular and huge right now because you want me to be, because you want to be like this." The black figure flexes his pecs one at a time. "But that also means I know you are serious when you threaten me AND I LOVE IT." With that the black monster raised itself off and flexed itself in front of Stephen. "I can make you like this. You will be so powerful, but if you want me to be in, I need something in it for me." Stephen shakes himself back to his senses from being transfixed by the face full of chest and arm muscles before him. "Oh so you don't know that part? I have something in mind." With that Stephen began walking, the monster attached to his back followed along. "Wait are you blocking me from seeing what you are doing. Are you doing some meditative bull to keep me from reading your mind." Stephen seems to grin "Just testing to see if I have ANY privacy. Plus I prefer to think of it as anticipation. Are you excited... What do I call you?" "I go by Armageddon" As Stephen goes though his house he opens a door only to find an old maid cleaning the room. "Armageddon, meet Ophelia." Ophelia sees the imposing muscle monster jutting out of Stephen's back and screams and falls back. "Ophelia, you seem afraid. I like it. You should be." "Ophelia, I wanted to thank you for your service, but unfortunately I have one more task for you. I'm offering your soul in place of mine, to become a servant of Armageddon." Ophelia screams as Armageddon laughs, their voices fighting to fill the room over the other. Stephen sticks out his hand and a black blade juts from the end of his hand and pierces Ophelia through the heart. "My blood should now be black, infect her and replicate Armageddon. I have known her for a long time, she doesn't have the willpower to fight." Ophelia cuts off her cry to process Stephen's betrayal and Armageddon stops his laughter in turn. "I accept your sacrifice. You will have my strength at your disposal. THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN." With that black blood dribbled down the blade flowing down towards and then into Ophelia. The blade retracts and Ophelia convulses on the ground as her veins go black. Stephen and Armageddon watch on as the convulsions stop a minute later as Ophelia gets up and out of her back a clone of Armageddon, with just as much muscle and vascularity jets out of Ophelia's back. Ophelia, now aware looks back up at the beast that frightened her before, and now sees it coming out of herself and screams once more. The new Armageddon leans around to look her in the face. "That's right honey. I'm in you, I can read your thoughts. I am infecting you more and more every second, and there's nothing you can do about it." Ophelia's eyes at first show defiance but then glaze over with hopelessness. In this moment The new Armageddon's body appear to pulse, and visibly grows larger. Where before it would have been fitting to say it was a ripped bodybuilder with the packed muscle of a 5'6 competitor, now it had that same if not more muscle packed on, and appears as though the bodybuilder in question were 6' in height. Stephen's eyes bulge at the view. New Armageddon laughs looking down at Stephen and his Armageddon. "As we take over, we gain power, and I prefer to show it in my size." Stephen, attempting not to drool over the muscle in the room reaches out his hand. "I agree, this is going to be fun. I have plans for us all." Ophelia's Armageddon reaches out his large hand, thick with the same strength the rest of his body conveyed, and a smaller but identical and strong hand reaches from behind as Stephen's Armageddon puts his hand into the mix. "I am shivering with this anticipation."
  29. 12 points
    It probably should have been worrying just how eager Jason was to try the supplement I was making. But with how good it was working on Josh, he wasn’t going to wait to see what the side effects actually might have been. Even when I warned him there might be something he wouldn’t like, he just laughed and said he wanted to be built like Josh. With him, he already had a pretty clean diet. His growth was almost faster than what Josh had gone through. But that also just meant how much more seriously he took it in the beginning. Each week his average jock body would have gained two to three extra pounds of mass. But it was all muscle. I was impressed. Or maybe too eager. He stuck to his diet and workouts without much pressure from me. It also meant I was able to have a bit more fun with him. His stoic almost intimidating posture made him rather unapproachable. And as he grew, he only seemed to want to adopt an even more imposing one. Feeling his new size, he knew he was supposed to be on top, but deep down I knew he was desiring to be on bottom. With just a light stroll of my finger down his bicep, his whole body would flex at the reaction. ‘Is something wrong?’ I would goad a response. ‘No…’ he’d pout back, often looking the other way. The longer the trials went on, the harder it was for him to look away. His face was having more and more trouble staying straight, as his mind wandered into territory it never thought it’d go through. It only encouraged me to try harder. I wanted him to tell me how he was feeling. But he was stubborn. No matter how many times I groped him ‘accidentally’ he stayed firm in his answer. “I’m not feeling any different,” he’d say, often holding his hands over his crotch. I could see I was getting to him though. He was slowly starting to break. One day, I finally told him to take off his shirt. Without thinking, he did. “Flex,” I told him. He did so without another word. There was a proud and confident look as he stared at his impressive body. Thick corded muscles ran through every bit of him. His veins bulged, stimulated only by a flex. I smiled as I ran my hands over his firm defined muscles, purposefully hanging around his more sensitive areas. His nipples may have been small but the second my finger twirled around them, he seemed to have lost all of his strength. He fell forward against the wall, just barely catching himself. “Everything alright?” I asked. He breathed heavily as he tried to take back control. I could see him struggling with all his might not to not answer honestly. “Yeah man,” Jason coughed out. “I’m fine. Just… Tripped.” It was an obvious lie. Though, he tried to stick with it. I ‘reached out’ out to help but my hand ‘slipped’, running the tips of my fingers up from his forearm, over his bicep and to his chest. I watched as he ‘tripped’ back into the wall in front of him. He tried to hold back his moan but still the sound came out. I could see his fists clenching as he did everything to distract himself from his throbbing boner. The more he tried to fight it, the more he seemed to enjoy it. “Are you sure there aren’t any side effects?” I gave him another chance to answer. It took him a few seconds, but he finally choked out an answer, “yes.” I rolled my eyes, almost upset at how strong his will power seemed to be. He did not want to admit to it. It didn’t seem to matter that I could clearly see his bulge, and the drip of pre running down his pant leg, he was not going to admit it. “Okay,” I shrugged my shoulders. “You’ll just have to wait over there while I inspect Jason.” “But sir,” he called out. The fact that he’d addressed me that way seemed to confuse him. However, he still followed my order, and sat on a stool in the corner. He spun back and forth on the stool, covering the bulge, but the drip down his leg was only growing longer. “Jason,” I called to the other room. Jason came in. He’d grown another fifteen pounds since his last observation. His shoulders were starting to have trouble fitting through the doorway. He seemed to have given up on sleeves and only were stretchy workout pants. And luckily it was starting to warm up, so he could wear flip flops around campus without it being too weird. With how quickly he was growing, consistently buying new clothes would have been too annoying to do. “Hey bud,” he trotted in happily. “Josh,” he said with the same sing-songy voice. “Ready?” I asked. “Uh-huh,” he answered by stripping off his shirt. There was a bit of a struggle as his muscles were getting too large. Even with the added height, they were just gaining too much mass to bend and move as easily as they had. Yet, it only seemed to encourage Josh to grow even more. Feeling them grow only made him happier. And in private, hornier. I could already see the massive bulge between his legs. When I touched his body, it bounced with joy. Even though we’d been meeting more often, it always seemed happier to see me. Or at the very least feel my touch. It was no longer the more clinical one I’d been taking as I ran my finger gently over his hard muscles. He flexed his abs to make them more pronounced and tried to hold back the moan as I gripped his massive pec. By now, I was barely even shoulder height to the hulk of a man. “Josh!” Jason called out. “Shh… You had your chance,” I held my finger up to my lips and Jason went silent. He squirmed on the stool even more as his dick throbbed with envy. Watching me grope and feel each and every one of Josh’s powerful muscles was making him feel something he never thought he’d feel. Jason tried to use his own hands to mimic the sensation, but it wasn’t the same. His rough calloused hands weren't the same as my softer ones. I didn’t work out like he did. I didn’t play sports like he did. I wasn't as tough as him. It looked like Jason was trying to protest. Tell me that I needed to pay more attention to him, instead of Josh. But he was still following my order. When I ‘shh’ed him, he wouldn’t speak. The more dominant rebellious nature was now purely submissive. It was similar with Josh. He had been so stoic and contained, now he was full of energy and outgoing. Always trying to touch other people, so they were more likely to touch him. Josh got so much satisfaction out of it. The more of a difference, the more satisfaction. I gently turned him around, letting my fingers trail against his wide lats. All the way down his body reacted to the light tickling sensation. I could feel the pulses as they naturally flexed the muscles. But my hands went to his pants and pulled them down revealing the massive ass. He let out a groan as I pressed my dick against it. Even though we’d done this so many times since I’d gotten Josh to confess to the new feelings he had, there was still a lot of tension. Somehow his asshole seemed to just mold around my dick as I pushed it in. He let out a heavy moan as his body fell against the table in front of him. I pushed a little more. He let more of his massive weight hang on the table. I loved that feeling of watching him go limp as I went all the way in. The size difference between us only ever made it more enjoyable for him. His body was already starting to shake as I thrust into him more. Each time was a little bit more, but he wasn’t going to finish. Not until I did. And when I did, I enjoyed every moment of it. The tight feeling around my dick and then the burst into his ass. Hearing his loud, “oof!” as he followed soon after made it harder to think. I pulled out of his asshole slowly and looked over at Jason. Two fingers were deep into his ass as an even more prominent stain in his pants dripped down his leg. “I can explain!” he held up one hand, while the other was still pleasuring himself. “I’m sure…” I gave a fake smile. “But you don’t have to. When you’re in public, you can have whatever personality you want. But in private, you do what your partner wants. Got it?” “Yes sir,” Jason answered.
  30. 12 points
    The Townhouse Alpha They moved in on a Saturday afternoon while I was running errands and shopping for groceries. The rental truck was leaving when I got back home so I didn’t get to meet whoever bought /or was renting the townhouse. I noticed the new BMW parked in the spot reserved for the townhouse which was physically at a right angle to mine. The townhouses are built around a courtyard and generally speaking you can only access the courtyard from one of the townhouses. There is an access gate at one side big enough for a pickup truck to drive through but it is solid and always locked. During the next week there were workmen coming and going in and out of the vacant townhouse. Service people were installing everything from cable TV to a new tank-less water heater but then weeks passed and I never saw the occupants. Maybe he worked nights or something. There was evidence of a renovation going on but the windows were covered and I couldn’t see inside. One Saturday several weeks later I went out to the mailbox to get the mail, which amounted to nothing but junk mail and my neighbor’s junk mail. The mailman knew that townhouse was empty but he knew that I would write ‘return to sender’ if it looked important. It was strange that my new neighbor never had any mail in his mailbox. Maybe he didn’t fill out a change of address form or maybe he had a P.O. Box number. As I passed BMW’s townhouse my eye was immediately drawn to his open door. I decided to ‘deliver’ his junk mail and find out his name. I called him BMW man because he didn’t bother to put his name on the mailbox. “Hello?” I called out as I knocked on the open door. There was a shirt hanging on the doorknob and when I touched it the shirt fell to the floor. I bent to pick it up and the material was soaked with sweat. Still bent over I brought the shirt to my nose. I inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of manly, musky odors. I closed my eyes and there was more than a hint of sex… Then I opened my eyes and saw his shoes. In the shoes was BMW man. BMW man was about 6’6” or 6’7”, 285 pounds of solid muscle, with short blond hair kind of spiked on the top. He was holding a weight bar. As you can see (top picture) I am is good shape but his body blew me away. Caught! There are security cameras everywhere these days. What if he had one pointed at his front door catching my home invasion. What if one of them was shooting video of me right now getting a boner and what if he loaded that video onto the internet? “What the fuck are you doing?” I stammered idiotically for a moment then fell silent handing him the junk mail. Finally, I decided to tell him the truth. “Sorry, but I haven’t seen you around and I… I live next door… I knocked your shirt… on the floor…” “Get in here,” he commanded. “I’ll just go,” I offered. “Get in here,” he repeated. “Do you really want to do this outside where everybody can see?” “Well no,” I said. I didn’t want him to do anything outside that was confrontational so I stepped further inside. He closed the door and set the bar in the corner. At least he wasn’t going to beat me to death with the steel bar. He locked the deadbolt before he turned and began looking me up and down. He was half naked wearing only baggy karate style pants. When he turned I focused on his huge pecs, he looked damn good. “Strip and turn around,” he ordered. I stepped back, tripping over my own feet totally shocked. “What?” I stammered. “Strip! Drop ’em! Get naked and turn around. That’s my requirement for not calling the cops.” “Cops? I just brought… mail…” “You stepped over the threshold boundary. I’ll claim trespassing and home invasion,” he said calmly. Slowly, I complied. I let my basketball shorts slide down my thighs, then my boxers. I covered my cock with my hands. “Shirt,” he ordered. I complied and I looked over my shoulder. He pulled the knot of the string holding up his pants and shoved them off his hips. He stepped out of his shoes and the pants. His legs were huge but my focus was on his cock – it was thick and long, nestled trimmed blond public hair cut low enough to wear a posing suit. His calloused hands grabbed my traps before he pushed himself against me. I felt his semi-hard cock pressing between my butt cheeks. He began moving his hips rubbing his shaft against my hole and under my balls. He moved closer pressing his huge physique against my back. His cock was getting harder by the second. “Whattayadoing,” I mumbled with my chest pressing against the wall. “I just want you to know,” he whispered, his chin was on my shoulder digging his beard into my skin, his breath was hot in my ear. His tongue licked my earlobe before he sucked it between his lips. His massive arms wrapped around me like two pythons. “I am going to stick my big cock up inside you. Do you understand? I am going to slip it in you, and I am going to fuck you. I am going to use your hole as my personal cum dump. And you are not going to do anything but stand here and take it.” I nodded, too excited to open my mouth and say something that would ruin everything. My heart was hammering not out of fear but from lust. This encounter had taken an unexpected turn for the better. His dick left my crack for a moment and when it returned, it was not only super hard it was slippery. Was it lube or pre-cum? No matter. I felt it rub against my ass and I tried to relax and open myself to him. I felt his knob push against my ass ring and back off several times before he slowly slipped his cockhead inside me. “I’m in you now,” he rasped, his lips touching my skin just below my left ear. “I’m invading your ass. I’m using it for my own pleasure, and when I get through you won’t be able to walk right for days. I’m going to cum inside you... I’m gonna breed you!” He wrapped his arms tighter around my chest and dug his chin in against my spine. He continued to push inside me using small thrusts. I felt a warm glow spreading from my ass across my entire body as his rigid shaft sank deeper and deeper. My hole had relaxed and soon I could feel his pubes on my ass and his balls rubbing against my body. He started fucking me and I could feel his cock corkscrewing inside me sending waves of pleasure surging through my spine and into my brain so any resistance was futile. “You’ve never let a man use your body for his pleasure, have you?” BMW man groaned as he fucked harder and harder. “But today you’re letting a real man conquer you and use you like a filthy slut.” It was true. He knew what to do and what to say to get me hot. It would be rape if I wasn’t so willing. I have never allowed anyone to top me but yet his balls were now banging into mine and I didn’t even put up a fight. Did I let him fuck me because he had been so commanding, so alpha, so direct and forceful? The sensation of being fucked by this bodybuilder was more than I could stand. I spread my legs a little wider to lower my ass, and somehow that gave him the ability to push more of his cock into my asshole. As he continued pounding me I began to feel his sweat and smell his musk. The shirt I smelled earlier was nothing compared to the cloud of sexy musk his hard body was producing. I couldn’t take it anymore. My orgasm exploded. For the first time in my life, my cock shot wads of cum by anal stimulation alone. It hit the wall and oozed down to the floor. Then his breathing increased and his body grew stiff, and he plunged his cock deep inside me one final time. “Yeah!” he yelled as his cock lifted me up off my feet and a flood of cum spewed into my ass. He held his cock there as his balls emptied themselves into me, and I knew what he had said would be true. I wouldn’t be able to walk right for a week. I had a feeling there was simply too much cum in my ass not to flow out again when he pulled his cock out of me. He held onto me and continued to jam his cock into me through the aftershocks of his orgasm, and then he slowly fucked me until he had a second orgasm. When my feet touched the floor again, he slowly pulled all of his cock out except the head. He plunged in as if to shove his seed deep into my body and then he stepped backwards breathing heavily. He grabbed my shirt and stuffed it in my ass crack as he led me to his shower. He had taken the small bedroom I used as an office and expanded his bathroom to near spa like size. When he squatted over a bidet and washed his cock that was when I saw him pull off the nearly empty condom. “On the bidet!” he ordered. He had an ass wash nozzle and he filled me as I leaned forward. Muck shot out of me. He did it several times until the water was clear. Then he was pushing me into the shower. “Ok now wash me,” he demanded. I used my hands without a washcloth so I could feel every inch of his physique. By the time I was finished we were both hard again. He moved behind me. “I just want you to know I was a virgin,” I said. “I know,” he whispered, his chin again on my shoulder. “I don’t put naked cock in dirty places but since I cleaned you out,” he chuckled. His tongue licked my earlobe before he sucked it between his lips. His massive arms wrapped around me again. “I am going to fuck you bareback. Do you understand? I am going to stick it in you, and I am going to fuck you. I am going make your hole my personal cum dump. And this time there is nothing… between… you… and me,” he said between each thrust. When he was balls deep he stopped. “Fuck you are so tight,” he groaned. He fucked me and filled me with cum while standing under the shower, then he fucked me again on the shower floor, sitting, in his bed, on the cushioned bench at the foot of his bed, and once again in the shower. It took the rest of the weekend for me to recover. Monday I headed out of town for a week long training seminar. When I returned I didn’t see his BMW in the parking space and looking into his townhouse through the sliding glass doors from the courtyard I saw there was no furniture. Had I imagined the whole thing? My ass said no. My brain had doubts. Then I saw a woman enter the house. She made a bee-line to the glass patio doors and unlocked them. “To late,” she cheerily proclaimed. “The townhouse sold last week! We did some renovations and staged the home. Would you like to take a look around? My company has done three of these townhouse renovations and they sell fast. I assume since you were in the courtyard you own a townhouse.” “Yes, I saw workmen and I saw the furniture… through the window… I was out of town last week.” “We could renovate your unit and sell it if you are interested. This was only listed for two days before it sold. We expand the bathroom downstairs and make a master suite. Upstairs we reconfigure the bedrooms by closing in the loft so there are still three bedrooms but now there are three bathrooms with walk-in closets. It is great for families or singles sharing a residence.” “So was anybody staying here? I saw a BMW in the parking space.” “That belongs to the boss. He and his wife were on a six week cruise and he parked it here because this place is closer to the airport than his house. The parking is secure. He asked me to drive it now and then. Was somebody in the house? A workman perhaps?” “The door was open when I went to get my mail,” I explained. I didn’t say anything else except I might consider having her company renovate my place. She began selling hard and she got my cell number. My place could use a facelift but it all depended on how much the renovations cost. So that solved the mystery of the mail, the mailbox, and the BMW but I still didn’t know his name. I needed to ask him about the changes I was beginning to see in my body. I needed to ask him why I had developed this need to be at the gym five to six days a week to work out for a couple hours. I wanted to ask how I grew an inch taller. Most of all I wanted to ask him if he had anything to do with my dick growing longer and my balls doubling in size causing them to hanging lower. “You know Carter could have been here. Carter is…” she sort of blushed. “Carter is memorable. Tall, strong… assertive… Kind of like Superman and Captain America rolled into one. Handsome to a fault! I asked him to pick up the boss at the airport.” “A co-worker?” I asked. “I wish,” she sighed. She gave no other information. She was persistent and soon I agreed to renovate and sell when I found out what the townhouse next to mine sold for. What furniture I kept went into storage and I rented a room from a friend. The basement apartment’s living room was his gym so it was a good setup for me; I was steps from a gym. It helped explain my slow transformation. Six weeks later I went back to my townhouse to check on the progress and was shocked to see the renovations were complete and the house was in the process of being staged. “I’ve been looking for you,” I heard in my left ear as two gigantic arms surrounded my chest. I reached back and felt a naked body behind me. He lifted off my shirt and opened my shorts as I kicked off my sandals. “Fuckkkk!” he said as he ran his hands over my much improved physique. He groaned when he felt my cock and balls. “I just want you to know,” he whispered, his chin was on my shoulder digging his beard into my skin, his hot breath was against my ear. His tongue licked my earlobe before he sucked it between his lips. His massive arms tightened around me like two pythons. “I am going to stick my big cock up inside you. Do you understand? I am going to stick it in you, and I am going to fuck you. I am going to use your hole as my personal cum dump. And you are not going to do anything but stand here and take it. Are you cleaned out?” he whispered. I nodded. It was a habit I acquired. He groaned. “This time you aren’t getting away. When we finish you’re coming home with me.” It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order.
  31. 11 points
    The perfect date "Not this ... not this ... not this either ... damn it! None of these guys seem to be interesting ” I mumbled leaving the phone on the couch. I sank down on the couch after spending a good, long minute trying to find the perfect match. Well, the app promised to help me find a perfect boyfriend that would fit my profile. Let's say I'm a little bit exotic by normal standards. My physical characteristics are very ... say, low. I am only 4’8” tall, I have a thin, pale body, with some shy abs, dark hair and glasses. At school I suffered from bullies bigger than me. Today, at the age of 20, I still suffer from jokes about my small size. When I found the “Perfect Match” app, I had no expectations about my love life anymore. I've always been a failure with dates, dating and I don't even know how to kiss on the lips. I made my profile on the app and waited. I waited. I waited and waited until I didn't find anything interesting. I thought about deactivating my account, but a light flashed on my phone screen. I had just received a like on my profile. Frowning and eyes wide with surprise, I clicked on the screen and opened the app. When the picture of the man who liked my profile appeared, I almost had a heart attack. He was just beautiful. His green eyes, tanned skin, like a surfer's skin, blond and well-groomed hair, a captivating smile that showed how young he was. I read in his profile that he was only 19 years old, lived out of town, in a safe place. Safe place? I found this tip strange, but everything in the virtual world of dating is strange, isn't it? I slid my finger across his pictures. His name was Gabriel and he had the body of a bodybuilder who just came down from Mr. Olympia's stage. He had a pair of pecs so swollen, stuffed with massive flesh that the nipples were pointed down. In some photos he flexed the pair of massive pecs. The visible muscle fibers showed how his muscles were the result of hard work. The valley in the middle of the pecs could house my entire head or almost my entire head. I wiped a thread of drool that ran down the corner of my mouth. “Damn! He has the body of a muscle god ” I slid in to see more photos, and there are a lot of photos where he is posing with nothing but underwear. His thick thighs were bigger than my waist, his abs had a shredded, shredded 8 pack (I've heard some bodybuilder talk about his abs like that). Gabriel had no hair on his body, just a small trail of hair that ran from his navel to his groin, and his tanned skin further accentuated the extreme definition of his enviable musculature. In some photos, he was flexing his arms and his biceps looked so big that I can't compare ... it's as if the footballs got even smaller in front of the mountains that were his biceps. I slid more pics and saw Gabriel wearing swimwear. They were tight and their balls and stick were almost tearing the fabric. In a short video, he moves his hips and his cock sways almost jumping out of his underwear. Its balls look bigger than lemons and its stick is as big as that of a race horse. Shit! That is the biggest stick I've ever seen in my life. I felt my cheeks flush. Gabriel was a god of muscles, perfect, with a cute smile, a boy's face and the body of a real man. His shoulders could effortlessly carry hundreds of pounds, and his V-shaped back further accentuated his perfect muscle definition. “Fuck it! He's a beast, ” I muttered. My heart skipped a beat when I saw a message from him to me. It was impossible. Nobody was interested in someone as pathetic as me. With shaking hands, I opened the messaging app and saw your message a little ... cute. "Hm ... hello! I'm Gabriel. I hope I didn't scare you with any pictures ” he keyed. "Creeped out? Oh yes, shit. Dude ... you are a young muscular beast. Of course you scared me” I said looking at the phone. I couldn't keep the boy waiting for me. If I can call that big muscular guy a boy. I stared at the phone for a few minutes until I decided to answer. “Erm… hi… sorry… I saw your message now. And you didn't scare me, big guy ” I typed back. Three dots appeared on the screen, that meant he was typing. I started to bite my nails. Drops of sweat broke out on my forehead until his answer came. We then started a conversation about how big he was, but it looked like there was something he wasn't talking about. "Hahaha ... I'm relieved. I'm glad you weren't scared ” at the end of the sentence he put a wink emoji. I noticed that Gabriel did not use abbreviations in his messages. He seemed to be a boy who didn't know how to use his cell phone well. Just imagine! In the 21st century and a young man sends messages without abbreviations. Something strange with this guy. “Are you 19 years old? Wow! You are so ... BIG ” I replied the message. Three points and the answer came. “Well ... I'm really 19 and the doctors say I'm still growing up. If I can grow more hahaha. But, did you like what you saw? ” I almost choked. Grow more? Which doctor would give such a diagnosis? Gabriel was muscularly huge, clothes would be a problem if this boy continued to grow. “I'm impressed with everything I saw, big boy! You are HUUUUGE ” Three points and then came his answer. “I can send you more pictures if you want. I liked you, little man ” Little man? It had been so long since I heard that joke. All my life I was called a little man. At school, until last year, I was called a little squirrel. At only 4’8 ”tall, I’m considered a“ short man ”by male standards. I learned to live with the short stature I have. I learned to take care of myself by being short. Today I live alone and work in a popular cafeteria in the city center. Everything is BIG around me, but I manage to survive being the “Little Man”. "You can send as many pictures as you want, big boy!" I sent the answer with a wink emoji. The conversation with Gabriel went on smoothly, fun and without many bad surprises. He still sent messages without abbreviations, so I started to respond in the same way. He said that he lives with his father and older brother and that he lives far from urban centers. I thought he lived on the farms that are miles from the city, but he didn't respond. Gabriel always shied away from questions like, "What city do you live in?" "How tall are you?" "You already had other boyfriends". I always had the feeling that he wasn't telling me anything. The days passed and I talked to Gabriel almost every day. Always in the morning and sometimes late in the evening when I left work and came home. We exchanged a few more pictures and he looked more bloated, more massive, more ripped muscle speaking, every day. He said he trained hard and with very heavy weights. I found it hot and exciting. I never dated someone who was crazy about gym and weightlifting. Gabriel was excited when talking about his workouts. I found that excitement and determination so compelling that I even thought about enrolling in a weight training academy. What does passion not do to you, no? After almost a month of talking on the cell phone, the decision came. Gabriel wanted to meet me in person. He bombarded me with messages like, "I need to see you up close, dude!" "I love to talk to you, little friend!" "I want to date you". That last message took me by surprise. He wanted to date me and needed to make the request personally. Gabriel also told me that he got a permit to visit the city without causing damage. Well ... I didn't question that. But, what damage would it cause by visiting the city? And why did you have to ask permission to visit the city? I was worried, but the desire to meet Gabriel for the first time took away all worry. We set the day. "See you at the weekend, Tonny" He sent a message with many colored hearts. "I can't wait, big guy" I sent a message back with only two hearts, I was nervous for the meeting. I took a deep breath and put the phone on the pillow. "Am I getting in trouble?" I looked at the ceiling and ended up falling asleep. ***************************************************************************** The day was sunny, the birds were singing, the horns screamed through the city streets as I walked towards the BR. Club. A restaurant that was on the roof of a 10-story building in the city center. It was a restaurant known for having live music, an outdoor space and one of the best ribs with barbecue sauce in the entire region. I was excited and hungry when the elevator went up to the top floor of the building. The table Gabriel had booked at the restaurant was open air. I leaned a little on the porch and looked down. Everything was so tiny down there. I was looking forward to meeting my future boyfriend if I decide to stay with him. I still hadn't decided on anything. The waiter brought me a drink, a lemon juice with a hint of pineapple and vodka. It was tasty and helped me pass the time while he was not there. I took a deep breath and tried to relax, until my cell beeped. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that it was a message from Gabriel. “Hey Tonny ... I'm just a few feet from the city entrance. I will arrive in 2 minutes ” "Waiting for you, buddy!" I sent the answer quickly. But, something was not right in Gabriel's message. Even if he was in a car or on a motorcycle, he would not be able to reach the city center in two minutes. The city was a large metropolis, with long, crowded streets. It would take more than an hour to get to where I was. I shook my head trying to understand the message. That's when I noticed something. The liquid inside my glass started to flutter in small waves. I leaned over to watch the glass when the building's porch floor started to shake. Some people were scared and started to get up thinking that an earthquake was happening in the center of the city. I looked down, I had that courage, and I watched as some people stopped their cars and got out of them looking south. The south side was for those who came from the city entrance. The fears were growing and I was paralyzed when the people on the restaurant's balcony started running in panic. I tightened my grip on the porch bar and saw more people on the street running in fear when a shadow appeared in a larger building. It was the silhouette of a ... man. “Oh shit! What the fuck is that? ” I shouted for shade. The giant shadow was projected on the building that was on the same street where I was. My cell phone rang again and it was Gabriel calling. I was relieved to receive your call, because I would have time to warn you not to enter the city. "Oh thank goodness ... Gabriel ... you better get back ... there is something going on here ... it looks like some kind of earthquake ..." "HMM ... EARTHQUAKE? BOOOM HAHAHA ... I didn't know it could cause tremors. Sorry if I got scared, little friend ... where is the building you are in? I made the reservation, but I don't know how to walk around this city ” Over the phone I heard something being ... crushed and Gabriel letting out a curse because his shoe had stepped on something metallic. He had smashed a car. I was not believing what I saw and heard. "Ga-G-a-Gabriel ... what's going on?" my voice was shaking and my hands too. I looked to the side where the shadow was casting and saw a building leaning. That's when I saw the biggest biceps and forearms in the world. In fact, they were two huge arms, with protruding veins bigger and thicker than the pipe that cut through the city. The powerful arms encircled the building, putting it in place with a loud thud. Dust rose from the building's foundations and the owner of the massive arms appeared to everyone. The people who were still on the street started to run when the muscular monster appeared in the sight of all of us. I swallowed when I recognized that giant. Shit, are there giants? Yes, and the boy I talked to for so long through the dating app was one of them, if not the giant who had just invaded the city. The waiter approached me and pulled me to hide. "We need to get out of here, young man ... it's not safe" he was shaking with fear. "I ... well ... I know that giant ..." I pointed to the titan. Gabriel had blond hair, cut with a short tuft at the top of his head. It seemed to be wet. The perfume that emanated from that monstrously muscular body was woody. He had just showered and perfumed himself to find me, for a moment I thought it was so cute ... but, there was still a problem, Gabriel was a 125ft tall giant. His pecs were marked by the short-sleeved shirt he wore, but I could see the outline of those muscular plaques, everyone could see. Even the greatest bodybuilder on earth would feel nothing near Gabriel's body. His abs I couldn't see, but I knew from the pictures he sent during our conversations that it was a ripped abdomen, well cut and with a trail of golden hair that went down to the middle of his legs. And speaking of legs ... His calves were bigger than a car, and his thighs were fighting for freedom from his shorts. On Gabriel's shirt it was written in big black letters: I LOVE BEING BIG. That was an understatement. He was huge, titanic, with thick arms and swollen veins. His shoulders had the ideal space to place a small house in each one. Stone shoulders. My blood froze when Gabriel, the Titan, narrowed his eyes in my direction. He had seen me and had no escape. He started to approach. Each step causing a crash making the cars jump on the asphalt. Its powerful and intimidating shadow hung over the building where I was. Smiling, he leaned over and I jumped back when his perfectly handsome magazine model face was right in front of me. His nose was big and his mouth could swallow me without any difficulty. Shit! The thought of being swallowed up by a muscle god like Gabriel was ... exciting. He smiled and winked. "Sorry ... I didn't want to cause such a mess hehehe" smiled sheepishly "My father warned me to be careful when I entered the city ... and shit ... I almost knocked over a building" He scratched his head and his biceps nearly tore the sleeve of his shirt. I spend many seconds watching Gabriel look at me. He did not understand my fear and excitement ... yes, I was excited by everything that was going on. He looked at me oddly, trying to decipher me. “HEY ... did I scare you? Oh shit! ” With an expression of sadness, he stood up and I almost broke my neck to look beyond the mountains that were his pecs. Gabriel's neck was thick as a pair of oak trunks. Everything about Gabriel was huge. And I was unable to speak or express all my admiration, fear and excitement. "Oh my god ... is this real?" I stammered. "Well ... I'm a BIG guy, buddy" he did a double bicep pose. "When you said it was big ... I didn't think about it ..." I pointed to him. Relaxing his pose, he leaned in again and his face moved closer to me. But this time, I did not back down in fear. Even though fear was still taking over my body, I was excited to meet a giant and fulfill my macrofile dream. Fuck! A giant wants to date me and I was shaking like a pathetic rat. "It is an orientation we have received since the Goliath program was created: do not talk about our sizes" Gabriel twisted his mouth, as if he had said something he shouldn't have said, but I insisted that he tell me more about it. “Goliath Project? I thought the army had shelved ... Wait ... did you say ours? Are there more like you? ” my blood froze. The Goliath project was announced many years ago. The congress considered the genetic project to be risky and surreal. It would be a lot of public money spent. The population voted against it. So it was shelved. But, now ... one of the subjects of this project was before me and it almost brought down an entire building just by touching it. “Wow! How many questions, little friend! I'll tell you a little bit about it. ” He lifted his thumb. “Well ... A secret army unit received financial support and decided to continue the project. They chose a family to start testing ... so ... I got that big. I'm 125ft tall, weighing over 50,000 tons of pure ripped muscle. And let's say I'm the smallest. My dad is even bigger hehehehe ” "Jesus Christ! You are huge ... and there are still others bigger than you? This is ... AMAZING! ” I shouted. "I'll show you, little friend" Gabriel, like every bodybuilder, liked to show off. He liked to show off his powerful muscles. He pulled his shirt off and placed it on top of a building. The top of the building next door was covered by Gabriel's shirt. The late afternoon sun bathed his sculptural and massive body. The first pose was a replay of the double biceps, but now I could see each muscle fiber being contracted in each push-up. The peak of Gabriel's biceps were so big that for me it was like a small hill to be climbed. "Look at these arms, my little Tonny GRRRR" "Oh my ..." I opened my eyes wide. Changing his pose, he grunted and the windows of the building where I was cracked. The titan flexed the mountainous pecs and I could hear the banging of his breasts crashing. He could crush a bus in the middle of those mountains. Then he flexed his abdomen. It was a giant brick wall. Then Gabriel expanded the dorsals. His lats cast a huge shadow and people were more frightened. When the pose routine was over, hands on hips, in a Superman pose, Gabriel leaned over. "Some people take a piss when I go through a pose routine ... hehehe ... with you it was different, little friend" pointed to my groin "You seem to have really liked what you saw, huh?" "I ... well ..." I tried to hide it, but my lust betrayed me "You talked about the project choosing you ... so ... who are the other giants?" I changed the subject, but my spine froze at the idea of having more giants like Gabriel living in the world. “OH YES ... it's me, my dad, and my older brother. We are a family of BIG men ” flexed the pecs. "I wanted to know more about your world" I said at once, without thinking. I definitely gave in to my macrofile desires. Gabriel smiled and offered his palm. I climbed on the porch bars and fell into the calloused expanse that was Gabriel's hand. "I will take you on the greatest adventure, little friend ... you will never forget HAHAHA" His booming voice echoed through the city. He took the shirt that was on top of the building, put it on his shoulders and very carefully, he carried me out of town. That first date was perfect.
  32. 11 points
    Chapter 14 As I stood there, uncertain what to do, there was a knock on the door. I turned around and looked through the window. It was Quincy. He held up a spare laptop and gestured for me to unlock the door. I opened it, and he marched in, looking squarely at the floor. He placed the laptop on my desk, pulled my cell phone out of his pocket, and placed it on the laptop. “You should have your computer back by the end of the week. This should last you until then. If that’s too long, I’d bring in a laptop from home. These loaners are absolutely terrible. As for the phone, you should contact your phone provider and get a new one. The one you gave me is shot. Have a funeral and bury it. It’s dead.” With that, Quincy left the room. He had never looked at me the entire time. I quickly booted the laptop to check my email. There was one from Oz asking what had happened, but I put that to the side. I emailed Mo, filling him in and asking if he could swing by some store and pick me up bigger clothes. I knew I could get to my car without being noticed, but the outside world would stare at the nearly naked muscleman with a huge jizz stain running down the length of his torn pants. Mo let me know that he was already out of the building, on his way back from a meeting with Mr. Tyler. If I could hang tight, he’d be happy to get clothes for me. With that sorted, I constructed an email to Oz, letting him know that both my laptop and phone had died and that I was using a loaner laptop at work and needed a new phone. His sympathetic response was touching, but I could internally hear Oz laughing all the way from Germany. All that was left to do was sit in my ruined clothes and wait for Mo. It was the most excruciating wait of my life, but Mo came back bearing gifts. He’d apparently gone to Copley Place, and he had half a dozen bags with him. When I opened the door to let him in, he looked shocked. “You said you’d gotten bigger, but you’ve seriously gotten swole, Eenie.” I flexed my arm and held it close to his face. “You think so?” Mo put down the bags and closed my door behind him, pulling down the curtain so I could dress unobserved. Out of one of the bags, he produced a bathroom scale. “Let’s see just how big you’ve gotten.” I stripped naked and stepped on the scale. It hovered around 240. “Another 30 pounds,” Mo said. “And you should see your back. You know how serious bodybuilders have backs that look like ski slopes?” After a pause, he added, “Of course you do. I checked your Pornhub search history.” I was unsurprised Mo had looked through my porn. He’d been doing that since high school. “My back has that look? That anatomy chart look?” Mo just nodded and tossed me a box of baby wipes. “Now clean yourself up, you dirty, dirty bird.” I was relieved to clean the length of my leg and my foot, and especially my cock. “What clothes did you get me?” I asked. Mo produced a pair of socks from a bag and threw them at me. “Just what you’ve always wanted. Socks.” “Very droll,” I added. “And?” From the same bag, Mo brough out some boxer briefs for me. “This should keep your cock under wraps. As for your clothes, I didn’t know just how big you’d gotten, so I got some stuff in various sizes.” He handed me the second bag in. “These should fit you just fine. I got some bigger ones too, just in case, but they’re in your car.” I put on the boxer briefs and a pair of grey dress slacks. They hugged my ass and thighs, but they fit well enough that I could sit down without exploding. The waist was a little big for me, but I think that was going to be the new normal. “I avoided buying shirts with buttons,” Mo said. “Until this spell ends, they would all end up as shrapnel. The employee dress code, which HR read me at length, allows its managers to wear turtlenecks so long as they are business formal. I think they’re going to be your best friends until the spell ends.” I pulled down a deep maroon turtleneck. It stretched to accentuate the size and definition of my shoulders, biceps, pecs, and neck, but it tapered down to my waist. “I got you a dozen sizes and colors,” Mo bragged. Now that I was dressed, I sat down at my desk. The wheels shifted suddenly to the side—I’d sat down with too much force, unaccustomed to my new mass. Mo reached into one of the bags and pulled out a box containing a new cell phone. From across the room, he tossed it to me. “How’d you get this?” I asked. “I said I was you. And that I dropped my phone in the toilet. They don’t ask questions after that. You were due for an upgrade, anyways.” Mo sat down opposite me in my visitor’s chair. “I’ve been running around all morning.” “How was Mr. Tyler?” I asked. “Sick. He actually has full on pneumonia, and the nurse who was tending him said it got so bad because he ignored it for so long.” “Huh” I said. “So, is he off our list of suspects?” “Mostly, yes,” Mo said. “I asked him about that strange budget code that was used to hire the porn star and the bodybuilder, and he said it was one of a dozen or so codes that indicated that the money came from a discretionary fund.” “What does that even mean?” “The money came from outside the company. Whoever paid to hire the porn star and the bodybuilder likely also paid to have the spell cast. As far as I’m concerned, this is the first concrete evidence that Austin’s innocent.” “How’s that?” “Whoever paid for these two to be hired gives money to the company often enough to need their own budget code.” “Did you look up the budget codes to find out who they belong to?” Mo shook his head. “I tried to. Discretionary budget codes are confidential. The only people who would know them are a nearly impenetrable computer database and the investor themselves.” “Vernon.” “That’s what I thought immediately.” “So, Vernon had Mr. Tyler hire these people?” “Hugo claims to have no memory of hiring either of these people.” “Do you believe him?” “He said this in between fits of hacking coughs. This was not a man who was concerned about upholding a malediction.” “Do you think Vernon is the one who got Quincy to spy on me too?” Mo got up and went over to the framed picture, and pulled it off the wall. True enough, there was a camera behind it. Right next to the camera was the old nail hole two inches lower from before Quincy raised the painting three inches up. Quincy had been completely forthcoming. “That is odd,” Mo said under his breath, putting the painting back. “What is?” “Quincy’s involvement in general. The contractor had it built into the spell that your coworkers wouldn’t notice your transformations, and then had someone secretly film the whole thing. That feels like opposite goals, doesn’t it? What’s the endgame?” As Mo stood there, thinking, my door opened, and without announcing himself, someone came in. I recognized him from the employee file Mo had shown me. It was Izaiah Bernal. The man was about six feet tall, and seriously ripped. He had close-shorn brown hair and deep brown eyes that sparkled innocently. But his crooked smile and cocky swagger belied that innocence. Mo smiled meekly, and I stood up, cock first. The man radiated such strength that I was practically at full mast just seeing him walk into a room. Whoever hired him knew how to hire a temptation. Then I realized, even from across the room, not only was I five inches taller than him, but I was bigger than him everywhere. I diminished that wall of muscle. “Sorry for crashing,” he said. His ill-fitting button-down was clearly purchased before he’d reached his current size. “I’m Izzy. Temp. Mailroom.” “Hello, Izzy,” Mo said, a lascivious note in his voice. “Hey.” Izzy scanned Mo up and down, practically licking my brother with his eyes. “’Sup?” Then, he turned to me and said, “Your door was closed, but I got mail for you. Looked important. Do I just…” He trailed off. “Bring it in, Izzy,” I said. Izzy ducked out of the office and came back in with an armful of envelopes. “Just put it here,” I pointed to my desk. Once he’d put down my mail, he looked at me and admired my arms. “Happy to see some other big guys at this company.” He flexed his right pec, and it threatened to rip open his shirt. Mo grabbed a receipt from one of his shopping bags and scribbled something down on the back of it. “Are you busy on Friday, Izzy?” “Yeah,” he sounded disappointed. “Free Saturday.” “Excellent,” Mo said, handing him the receipt. “We’re having a party on Saturday night. Come on by. This is the address. My brother Ian would love to spend some one on one time with you.” “Sweet,” Izzy said as he left the room. His ass canted back and forth as he walked—he was swaying his hips on purpose to draw attention to his powerful hind quarters. It worked; neither Mo nor I could look away. When Izzy closed the door behind him, I asked, “Did you really give him my address?” “Of course. We need to drill him for information about who hired him. And, if I get to actually drill him afterwards, that’ll just be a plus.” “He did seem ready to jump us both,” I acknowledged. I sat back down and crossed my legs, trying to hide my erection. “And if he stayed in here much longer, I just might have jumped him.” “Geronimo,” Mo said. “That might be why there’s a camera,” I said, redirecting the conversation. “I don’t follow,” Mo replied. He was obviously still thinking about drilling Izzy. “If they’re trying to ruin my marriage, don’t they want evidence? Evidence that I cheated. Catch me in the act.” “And then they hired two people you were likely to cheat on your husband with. I guess that could work.” “Which might explain why Vernon wants me to meet with him offsite. Someplace with no cameras. If I sleep with him, he can stay safely in the closet.” Mo returned to my visitor’s chair. He looked like he was going to say something, when there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” I said. Quickly and efficiently, Alexander came into the room and closed the door behind him. “Ian. Hey. There’s a rumor circling about you, and I had to see if it was true.” “Oh?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Are you sleeping with Vernon Bailey?” I shook my head. “No. No, I’m not.” Alexander looked relieved. “Good. ‘Cause it’s all over the office. Apparently, the two of you were getting quite cozy in the parking garage yesterday. And now people are saying you’re meeting at a hotel for your meeting tomorrow. What with Oz being abroad, people are talking.” “Vernon snuck up on me in the parking garage,” I said. “And we’re meeting at a restaurant at a hotel tomorrow. I’ve taken dozens of clients out for lunch, including female ones.” “So, I should squash the rumor?” “If you need some juicy gossip,” Mo suggested, “supposedly the company hired a bodybuilder and a porn star to work in the mailroom.” “Really?” Alexander said. “Really,” I confirmed. “But you didn’t hear it from us.” “Thanks, Cayden,” Alexander said. Suddenly, Alexander looked incredibly nervous. “Are we still on for tonight, Ian?” “What about tonight?” “I was supposed to come over and watch something gay and trashy on Netflix with you. After you got out of the gym, of course.” I had made those plans so long ago, it felt like a different person had made them. I had completely forgotten. “I didn’t know Mo would still be here when I made those plans.” I said honestly. “Cayden’s welcome to join,” Alexander said. “Gay and trashy?” Mo said. “My two favorite adjectives. Color me invited.” Alexander scurried away, pleased with himself. “He would have been more than happy to reschedule,” I said after Alexander left. “But you still need to see his fantasy. And where better to do that than in the comfort of your own home?”
  33. 11 points
    Chapter 12 The next morning at work, I dressed in my husband’s clothes. The only work-appropriate clothes he’d left behind were some of the business outfits he’d bought at his heaviest—around 220. So, they were still too large for me even though I was bigger than Oz was currently. I wasn’t swimming in them, though. On the contrary, my chest made a nice impression, and the fabric draped around my narrow waist. His shoes were a little too big for me because Oz’s feet are a little too big for his height. Just a little, but you could notice it when he went around barefoot. I wasn’t complaining about the footwear; I preferred shoes that were too big to too small. I was worried I looked like a clown, but Mo assured me I just looked like I could only afford to shop at the Goodwill. All that morning, I hid in my office. I didn’t like that it was potentially bugged, but I had to stay away from the men outside my office. I had never noticed just how many tasty men worked in my office, and now I was noticing them all. The twinks in IT, the daddies in upper management, the rough trade in the accounting department. Anything even vaguely male was turning my head it seems. Before I decided to hide, I must have leered a bit too intensely at two of the cuter interns. They made hasty exits with terrified looks on their faces. I was a horny menace, and I had to put a door between me and temptations. In the last 24 hours, I had masturbated a grand total of eight times, and I was still humming with a sexual edge. I hoped it was just the spell and not my new everyday—I couldn’t handle being this amped all the time. I spent the morning playing catch up again. I hadn’t lied when I told Mo my workload was kind of light. I was supposed to be prepping for my meeting with Vernon the next day, which meant I had delegated the day-to-day tasks last week. The remainder was largely supervisory, so I had a small mountain of forms to sign, double-checking that everyone was still following their timetables and budgets. Of course, this gave me plenty of time to feel how my enlarged ass filled my desk chair and how the muscles of my arms bunched and danced as I wrote my signature. By 11:30, I had almost completely caught back up. It was almost noon on Tuesday. My turn to call Oz. I locked the door to my office and lowered the blind to get as much privacy as possible. Normally, these calls were the highlight of my week. But today, I felt like I was sneaking behind enemy lines. A ring or two, and then Oz answered. “Good afternoon, Ian. You’re early.” “Good evening, Oz,” I responded. “I couldn’t wait.” “I miss you,” Oz cooed. I melted a little. He was still Oz. “I miss you too,” I admitted. “It’s only ten days until you get home.” “That’s only 240 hours.” “That’s sounds harder.” “That’s only 14,400 minutes,” Oz said. “It can’t be that many!” I protested. “It is. I used a calculator.” “Let’s go back to saying ten days. So much fewer. Ten sounds doable.” “You sound doable,” Oz said, a ribald flair in his voice. “Oh, you charmer,” I replied, a hair sarcastically. Oz knew I liked the cheesy lines, but I had to play a little hard to get to keep the romance alive. “You enjoying Cayden’s visit?” Oz asked. “We spent the weekend in, just the two of us.” “Sounds sweet. Brotherly.” “Yeah. We’ve really had some intense bonding.” I could hear Mo crunching in the background. “And what are you eating that’s making so much noise?” I asked. “It’s definitely a hearty kale salad,” Oz said. “It couldn’t possibly be made of pork and deep fried.” “As long as there’s a salad somewhere in there,” I teased. “Yes, dear,” he said, laughing slightly. “What have you been doing to occupy yourself in your off hours?” “What off hours?” he asked earnestly. “I’m going to be home on the 10th come hell or high water, I promise. But, the closer we get to my departure, it seems like a million tiny details become my responsibility. Sometimes, I feel like I’m being asked to make a tapestry out of clay.” “Sounds vexing.” “That’s not the half of it. These past few days, I’ve been having trouble sleeping without you.” “That’s sweet,” I said. “Then I said it wrong. I can’t sleep without your touch, your smell, your taste. I crave it.” That made my cock wake up. Oz was going to have to cool his jets, or this would turn into phone sex, and I knew his opinion of that. He’d already come far closer to the line than I’d ever heard him do. “The only way I’ve been able to get any sleep,” he started to explain, but then he stopped dead. “No. It’s too embarrassing.” “We’ve been married for almost half my life,” I reminded him. “I’ve seen you cry, I’ve seen you sick and vomiting, I’ve seen you with a terrible haircut. What’s left that could be embarrassing?” Oz sighed, and reluctantly admitted, “I took one of your pajama shirts with me. I put it on a pillow and spoon it like a teddy bear.” After a pause, he added, “I really miss you, Ian. It’s been hell.” Thank god he went heartwarming instead of dirty. I was able to keep my equanimity, and it restored my faith in Oz. Whoever had done this to me, it couldn’t be Oz. He wasn’t this good of an actor. If he was setting me up for a divorce, why would he tell me this story? “It’s been hell for me too. I actually started wearing your clothes to work.” Oz laughed. “You in my clothes? To work? Oh, send me a pic. You must look like a kid playing dress-up in daddy’s clothes.” I looked down at my burgeoning musculature and flexed my arm. When it was fully flexed, I filled the sleeve. “You’d be surprised how well I fill them.” I was turning myself on again. “Yeah, I know. You’ve been working out. But it’s been six months, not six years.” “Actually, I…” The phone went dead. Not just dead—the phone stopped working altogether. My phone wouldn’t turn on or off. From my work computer, I quickly sent Oz an email explaining what had happened. He asked if I wanted to finish our call over Skype. I figured he might as well see me in all my glory. I dialed in his number on my work computer. The line made that hollow ringing noise. The second Oz answered, though—the absolute second—my computer died too. That couldn’t be a coincidence. My technology cutting out on me like this? It had to be… “Quincy,” I said out loud. I picked up my desk phone. That was still working properly. I called IT and told them what happened and specifically requested Quincy, even if it meant I had to wait longer. I unlocked my door and waited behind my desk, fuming. I promised myself I wouldn’t throttle the little twerp even though he was spying on me. Not even five minutes later, Quincy came into my office. He was dressed almost exactly like he was on Friday, except his polo was green this time. He had a blush in his cheeks, looking extremely flummoxed. Now that I saw him standing up, I saw just how short the boy actually was—with my new stature, I easily was a whole foot taller than him, perhaps more. He looked utterly pathetic. My anger vanished, replaced by intrigue at just how much I outclassed this little thing before me. Quincy closed the door behind him, and without looking up, he started talking. “Good afternoon, Mr. Myers. They told me you were having problems with your work computer and your personal phone. I’ll fix the computer for you right quick. That I can do, no problem. It’s why they pay me. Well, they don’t use money, but I suppose class credit still counts as payment. But according to the regulations of the company, I’m not legally allowed to help you with your phone. I don’t know why the regulation is in place, and I have absolutely no problem breaking that rule, but I wanted you to know that it is, in fact, against the rules.” My god, he could talk a blue streak. The poor creature was terrified of me. “Breathe,” I told him. “Just breathe.” Quincy began breathing deeply. He still had not looked up. “Are you afraid to look at me?” I asked, unable to hide the glee in my voice. “The last time I saw you, you caught me watching you in the bathroom. I saw everything. Everything. And then, yesterday, your brother caught me outside the bathroom listening to you. At least, I think it was your brother. He looked an awful lot like you. Then today, less than 24 hours later, you request me by name to come to your personal office. No one has ever requested me by name before. I don’t even think anyone at the company knows my name. I don’t think the guy who signs my timecard for my internship knows my name. So, for you, the hottest guy at the office who I’ve twice spied on, to know my name. Well, something’s not normal. I think your computer and phone are working just fine, and this is some kind of trap.” He closed his eyes, and it looked like he physically shrunk. “Is this about the surveillance equipment?” “You have been putting up cameras in my office?” I growled. His eyes still closed, Quincy nodded. Quietly, he squeaked, “Just one camera. And a mic.” I tamped down my anger. I wasn’t going to get anywhere with that tactic. Calmly, smoothly, in an almost buttery voice, I asked, “Why?” “Someone paid me to film you.” “Me?” Quincy opened his eyes and looked down at the floor. “Yes. You. And only you. And they were very specific about that. If I accidentally caught other people doing things they weren’t supposed to, I was to delete that material immediately. The whole point was to capture you, so I put a camera and a mic in your office. And before you ask, no, I don’t know who wanted the footage. I was hired anonymously via a physical letter given to me by one of the temps in the mailroom. Last week. The letter said that I would be paid handsomely. And I really need the money. So, I agreed. I haven’t seen one cent.” “Where are they?” I asked, continuing to placate him. He pointed to my stapler and quietly said, “Mic.” Then he pointed to a painting hanging on my wall. It had always been there, even before the office was mine. It was the bland sort of inoffensive non-art found in most modern office buildings: a swirling path of colors. “The camera’s masked by the painting. I moved it up two or three inches so the footage wouldn’t cut off your head when you were standing.” He almost sounded proud. Ignoring that, I continued my questioning. “What have you got of me so far?” “Everything,” Quincy admitted. “You playing with yourself is the hottest thing I have ever seen. You are a gorgeous man. Please don’t hurt me. Or have me fired.” Reflexively, I clenched my fist and tensed my bicep. But hurting him would accomplish nothing. Relaxing my arm, I asked, “Do you have a way of contacting the person who hired you?” Quincy shook his head. “I’m supposed to hold all the footage, save it to a flash drive, and leave it on my desk on Friday during my lunch break. If the footage was any good, my bank account would automatically receive the money. I know it is extremely shady, and I know that what I did was illegal, but I’ve been worked ragged by this company, and they haven’t been paying me, and I…” Quincy was about to cry. He was completely at my mercy. Completely. I had never felt so powerful in my life. Instead of anger, I felt… intoxicated. “Don’t cry,” I said, doing my best to suppress the power trip I was feeling. “Don’t be kind,” he retorted. “I couldn’t take it if you were kind to me after I filmed you half-naked and playing with yourself.” I could get this boy to do anything for me. “You confessed before you gave the footage to anyone. Besides, I think I’m going to need you to be extra brave.” Quincy seemed confused, so I elaborated. “The person who hired you has recently been doing a lot of bad things to me, and I’m trying to figure out who it is. So, for now, I want you to make it look like you’re still spying on me. In fact, keep spying on me. I want the footage. Then, leave an empty flash drive on your desk on Friday. And if you receive any more letters from your employer, tell me about them.” Quincy nodded. “Now,” I said, vacating my chair and moving to the side, “my computer and phone are honesty not working. I need you to come over here and fix them.” He complied, and silently came behind my desk. As he began to work on my computer, I realized that with how close he was, I could touch him, see his sexual fantasy, and maybe learn some info about his mysterious employer myself. I figured now was as good a time as any. I was still aroused from my talk with Oz, but how tempting would this little twerp’s fantasy actually be? Before I could change my mind, I touched the back of his neck.
  34. 11 points
    Hope you guys are all doing okay and keeping safe. Thought I'd post a quick update on the Deano story. I finished the first draft a few weeks ago. After about a month of not working on it much and being stuck on the same chapter I had a bit of a creative burst and ended up writing the last 4 chapters in the space of a few days. It helped that most of it had been in my head for months. So now I'm going back and revising and editing. Some of it I'm really happy with. Other parts definitely need work. Some chapters might get completely re-written but it's all a part of the process. Hopefully I'll feel happy enough to start sharing it soon but I thought I'd post a sample/teaser in the meantime.... *** And now I’m suddenly wondering what Sebastian Wood is up to. How he’s been spending the first few days of his summer holidays. With Henderson maybe? I mean - how is that even gonna work? I don’t exactly know where Henderson lives, but judging by his accent I’m guessing it’s somewhere up North. Miles away from where Woody’s parents live. I’d never even heard of Woody’s hometown when he told me that one day we were training together. But I looked it up afterwards. It’s somewhere in Surrey and from what I found on the net, it looks and sounds like a pretty fucking posh place. Which makes me wonder if his parents are actually loaded. It would just be bloody typical for Woody to be well off on top of everything else. But yeah - with wherever Henderson does live, I'm pretty sure it would take him ages to get to Woody’s. I know how long it would take me to get there from here. Or the train station at least. One hour and forty minutes. I looked that up too. Three trains and one tube ride and I’d be there. I have an image of the train station in my mind. I sometimes picture Woody meeting me at that platform. In his black vest and skinny jeans. Maybe wearing that black ICON cap he sometimes wears. I remember the first time I saw him wearing that at the SU bar. He was with his first roommate, Craig (he was such an annoying prick). I thought the cap made Woody look like a bit of a twat. But then I couldn’t get the image of him wearing it with his black vest out of my head for the whole night. His shoulders and arms on display. Thick pecs peeking out of the top of his vest. How effortlessly and annoyingly good he looked. I thought about him a lot after that. Maybe that’s when it all started.
  35. 11 points
    Chapter 10 I was unsure what to do and afraid to leave the safety of the men’s room. Fortunately, out of habit or instinct, I had taken my phone to the bathroom with me. I shot Mo an SOS. When he knocked on the door, I let him in, hiding behind the door so no one would see me. Once he was inside, I shooed him further into the bathroom and told him to turn his back to me. Once he had complied, I closed and re-barricaded the door, staying mostly hidden from Mo in the entry alcove. “Are you hiding from that perv who was listening in at the door?” Mo asked. “Someone was listening in?” Just what I needed. “A baby of a man. Couldn’t be more than 20. Looked 16.” “Quincy,” I said. “He’s an intern in IT. He definitely is a little perv. But, no, I wasn’t hiding from him.” “Then what’s up?” he said. I emerged from the shadows and showed him my new immensity. Mo appraised me up and down, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. After what felt like forever, he quietly said, “My, my.” “That’s it?” I responded. “My, my? That’s all you have to say?” Mo put his hand to his mouth and stroked his upper lip with his index finger. “Well?” I asked impatiently. “You just couldn’t stand being the smaller brother, could you?” With that, he started snickering. “This isn’t funny!” I said. “No, it’s not,” he said, calming himself down. “Damn, Eenie. Someone hit you with the hunky stick.” With his left hand, he coaxed me closer to him so he could get a better look. That’s when I realized I was looking down on my brother. My brother, who was an inch taller than me. I was now taller than him. And I was buffer than him. For the first time since he hit puberty, I was more muscular than my brother. And I wasn’t just a little bigger than Mo—I was obviously bigger than him. At that moment, I didn’t care that some unknown person was trying to ruin my marriage. I absolutely loved being bigger than my brother. But I could only revel in the feeling of fraternal superiority for a second before Mo forced me to move on to more pressing matters. “Is the spell over?” he asked. “I didn’t smell pennies and wintergreen, if that’s what you mean.” Intensely focusing on my exposed chest, Mo said, “Hmm.” “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “First thing first, go home and change into some of Austin’s clothes. You’re about his height now, and considering the bear you married, they should fit you.” After a moment, Mo added, “Though they will look entirely different on you than him.” “Okay. Good. That makes sense. After that?” “Well, if you can skip another day of work, I’ll hold the fort down for you here. I’ve still got a lot of questions to answer, and your sudden growth just added a few.” “You said getting hotter was a normal part of the spell.” “Once,” Mo clarified. “With a boilerplate, no frills seduction malediction, you get hotter once. You don’t keep getting hotter. Unless someone slapped you with a second spell, which is beyond improbable, this is far from a garden variety spell. And it’s not done.” “This spell might keep making me bigger?” My cock firmed up into a semi just thinking about it. “Yeah, you need to go home,” Mo said. “Dr. Mo is recommending you masturbate five or ten times and get all of…” he gestured to my large body, “this out of your system.” His voice grew firm. “The spell wants you to cheat on your husband. Don’t let it win.” With a plan in place, Mo checked to make sure the coast was clear, and then I began my journey home. There was a heady thrill to walking around my office with my newly big, newly hairy chest on display, my abs peeking out, my pants so tight I had to move slowly, my half-erect cock obscenely pressed up front for all to see. The thrill was heightened by the fact that no one reacted to it. Several people said hi, even more smiled and waved, but they all acted as though I had always been this tall, this buff, this hung, and this half-dressed. My walk turned into a saunter all the way to the parking garage. I got all the way to my car without any incident. Then I bumped into Vernon. “Darling,” Vernon said, strolling up to me. “Did you come out to greet little ol’ me?” The cavernous space of the garage reverberated with his voice. That syrupy, mellifluous voice. He drew close to me. I stood by the driver’s side door of my car. For once, I hated that Oz had helped me finance a small, sporty car—a little blue Miata. If I had a bigger car, I could use it as a buffer between Vernon and me. He approached from the front, stopping right by the driver’s side mirror. I could feel the warmth radiating off of him. My skin tingled, yearning to feel his. I was not in the right headspace to rebuff this man. “Mr. Bailey,” I said flatly but politely. “Vernon,” he corrected. “Mr. Bailey is my grandfather.” Vernon stood uncomfortably close to me. I’d seen Vernon a million times before, and I’d always been a little taller than him, but now I was a full head and shoulders taller than him. I’d always thought that his brown eyes glowed with intelligence and passion, but with my hormones in overdrive, they were afire with lust. In that moment, they were the most inviting bedroom eyes I’d ever seen. I’d always thought he was attractive—well-coifed black hair, a closely-trimmed beard, stylish clothes that showed off a gym-trained physique. But today, when I saw that this gorgeous, toned man’s body paled in comparison to my heroic physique, my cock stiffened. If Vernon noticed I had a hardon, he didn’t draw attention to it. Instead, he leaned in closer to me. “Ian, you gorgeous mountain of man, you should display that unshorn chest of yours with more frequency. Between those you’d entice and those you’d intimidate, you’d increase your profits fourfold.” I did my best to cover my chest back up, but my shirt was far too small to accomplish the task. As I fumbled with my shirt, a leery smile worked its way across Vernon’s face. Without another option, I folded my left arm in front of my chest, doing my best to block it from his view. Of course, this caused my bicep to flex. Vernon’s smile intensified. There was no winning, so I gave up and rested with my arm at my side. Vernon continued his soliloquy. “I am bedeviled by that fragrance you are wearing. There’s this hint of spice that lingers on the palate. What is the name of your cologne? I must add it to my morning ablutions.” Vernon was getting dangerously close to touching me. His hand was on the roof of my car, mere centimeters from my right bicep. “None,” I said. “That glorious scent is your natural aroma?” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He was leaning in to smell me, and I wanted to let him do it. I wanted to crane my neck back and give him full access. It would be so easy. And so hot. Quickly, I darted to, “What are you doing here, Vernon? Our meeting isn’t until Wednesday.” “Sadly, no. But I have dealings with other members of your establishment. Our encounter today was happenstance.” “Of course, it was,” I said, praying my tone didn’t betray how little I believed him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have business elsewhere.” I went to open my car door, but Vernon held it closed. “Off for some secret assignation?” He looked down every so subtly to the outline of my erection pressing through my pants. Fuck. He’d seen that too. He was looking right at my bulge, and he was standing so close, and I just wanted to get it over with. To just give in and let him have his way with me. Before I surrendered, I opened the door, using it to push Vernon further away from me. “No, Vernon. I just have some important things at home that I forgot.” “Until Wednesday,” Vernon said, extending his hand. “Until Wednesday,” I repeated and got into the car, refusing to touch his hand. Thankfully, Vernon walked away after that, or he would have seen the graceless ballet that ensued. When I closed the door, I cursed my car’s sportiness for a second time. My shoulder and tricep were just big enough to slightly press into the window. My ass was so big that I sat higher in the seat, and with my new height, my head was starting to press into the roof of the car. On top of that, my seat was too close to the pedals, cramming in my legs, so I had to let it back. When I was finally a comfortable distance back, I realized that the steering wheel was grazing the top of my bulge. The arm rest that I normally kept down was now fighting for space with my lat, so I had to put it up, and doing that without getting out of the car showed me just how small my car was. Or rather, just how large I’d gotten. Even buckling was a new experience—the belt split my pecs, driving them further apart, making them looked flexed and bigger. If I grew any more, I’d be wedged into my car.
  36. 10 points
    hey this is my first attempt at writing a story so any feedback would be appreciated, if its good ill probably continue it, ideas for stories or things to add in the comments would be appreciated. Returning home from the gym Alex was about to strip and go for a shower when his door bell rang, opening the door he collected a small parcel from the post man before closing his door and rushing back to his room. Opening the parcel reveal a small bottle of pills, his exitement began to rise, "finally" he thought his muscle pills had arrived. At 5'8 and 153 lbs his body was far from impressive although several years of gym had give him an athletic body with almost 14" biceps toned abs and thin pecs but despite that he hadnt been able to push past it. quickly reading the instructions Alex learned that each pill should add about 5lbs of muscle. However if he had read more than the front of the bottle he would see the side effects ' side effects include: height growth, penis growth, testicular growth,increased semen production, increased libido' 'WARNING DO NOT CONSUME AFTER EXERCISE THIS CAN RESULT IN UPTO 10X MUSCLE GAIN'. opening the bottle Alex took out one pill and stood infront of the mirror taking a look a his body "time to see what 5lbs more looks like" he said to himself, his cock stirring at the image of his body becoming huge. "here goes nothing" he said as he swallowed the pill and waited, less than a minute late his body started to feel hot his cock had swelled to full mast and all 6.5 inches were straining against his shorts. His muscles felt pumped his veins pushing against his skin, "yess, grow" he groaned before he doubled over his abs contracting, before bening pulled back up as his lower back started to fill out. My thighs spazamed and shook as they swelled filling my lose shorts and pulling them tight, his cock outline visable pushed against the tight fabric. His calves grew into muscular diamonds. he started to grow taller growing to 5'11" his t shirt rode up exposing the bottom bricks of the 6 pack that was now outlined through the material, "fuck yessss" he moaned as his upper body started to swell his pecs thickening and pushing out into slabs of must that over hung his deep abs. the shirt strained as his back widened sheets of muscle fighting for space forcing his shoulders wider. The seems straining as large lats cascaded down his sides. At the same time is taps and delts grew , traps curved down from his thick neck as is almost nonexistant delts balooned into boulders. Biceps began to bulge growing bigger and harder until his sleeves struggles to contain them. his forarms thickened to match the swollen guns. A low moan emininated from his throat as his head rolled back, his glute grew into square blocks of muscle eating the seam of the shorts, groaning lounder as his cock started to swell, he watched in the mirror as it snaked further down his thigh, the fabric was so tight the outline of the bulbous head was visible, his balls churned growing and filling up any remain space in his shorts, a wave of testosterone washed over him as the thick members started to drool pre. "yess"he grunted feeling the growth wind down, he raised his arm seams slitting and pumped it the ball of muscle swelling on command causing a spit peak to rise several vein rivers ran down the mountinous muscle, the peak rose splitting the sleeve of the t shirt. Grinning he looked back at his reflection in awe of what he had become, "5 lbs really does make a biiiig difference" ....
  37. 10 points
    Part 2 letting out a long breath out as he took in his body, his eyes roaming the new muscles, he realised his body was doing something that it had never done before, he was turning himself on, the damp patch of pre was spreading over his thigh, releasing a musk of testosterone. groaning slightly at the sight of his body he stepped closer to the mirror to get a closer look, as he walked he could feel his swolen cum filled balls being squeezed and carressed by his thighs and the tight fabric. gazing at the outline of his thick leaking member he could hold back any more, he ran his hand down its length feeling the ridges and veins through his shorts. "fuck it" he moaned reaching for his waist band, he tore his shorts off, imidiately his solid rod flipped up hitting his abs leaving a dollop of thick pre on his shirt, his heavy sack now proudly displayed on his meaty thighs. "fuck im huge and hung" he groaned as he flex his thighs, before carressing his sack and stroking his shaft. "i gotta see how big i am" he said hungrily and quickly grabbed a tape measure and laid it on the thick member before wrapping it around, "8.3 * 6.5 fucking inches" he breathed. He then flexed his bicep and wrapped the tape around the peak, his cock throbbed as he say the number 18.4 inches, hurrying to the bathroom he stepped on the scales, the display finally settled, 203lbs. "fuuuck i gained 50lbs of muscle" ginning to himself as he headed back to his room, and again being taken off guard by his incredibly body one word came to mind to describe what he saw 'STUD' "yes im a stud" his eyes catching the reflection of the pill bottle "but i can be a better stud, a bigger stud, and more hung stud a fucking stallion" he said his voice hungry his mouth watering as he took another pill out the bottle. swallowing it he closed his eyes and waited for his growth to begin, again he felt his muscles grow warm the neck of his stirt started to strain against him, his cock throbbed thick pre running down its length and dripping from is sack, as his muscles started to grow he moan "yessss make me huge..." but as almost as soon as it had started it stopped. opening his eyes he looked down confused he weighted himself 208lbs read the sacle "looks like im gonna need much more to get to where i need to be" openning the pill bottle he emptied it and counted 23 pils remaing, "115lbs more muscle" he said realising he would increase his mass by more than 50%.scooping back into the bottle "here goes nothing" he said as he emptied the bottle into his mouth. *CRUNCH* *CRUNCH* *GULP* seconds later a tidalwave of testosterone washed over him and he felt the familiar heat returning to his muscles "yes thats more like it!" he groaned his voice an octive lower, everly muscle on his body looked pumped, veins pushed themselves to the surface to feed them "yesssss" he groaned crushing the pill bottle in his fist, as he felt his abs start to pulse, the 6 brick were pushed against the tight shirt but now the pushed further gaining depth, he started to grow taller his torso and legs lenthening, his t shirt rode up further. he could see at the bas of his abs either side of his thick cock an extra set started to rise like bread in the oven only, this bread was ultra dense rock hard muscle. "more...". His body responded his obliques turned from smooth hard muscle into bulging piano keys flanking the 8 fist size bricks. the seams at the side of the shirt started to rip as his core widened. Following up is lats started to engorge pushing his arms firnther apart and continuing the tear up to his pits. "mmmph yes botta out grow this shirt!" he roared with exitement as his pecs grew larger the slabs of muscle now over and inch and a half thick split the neck of the shirt, reaching up he tore the shirt off revealing his torso in all its glory, his thick shelf like pecs over hung his abs casting a shadow over them. he could feel the sheets of muscle running down his back swell forcing his shoulders furthere apart giving him an isane v taper as his lats continued the pulse and grow. his delts swelled to striated vascular pumpkins of muscle. grunting as he watched his neck thicken and traps rise. he flexed his bicep and squeezed the solid muscle "grow bigger make 18 inch guns look small make them fucking tank canons!!". As if responding to his will this horse shoe tricep bulged followe by his bicep harger and larger forcing his fingers apart, he let out a deep moan as he watched the split deepen on his arm and forearm swell to match it. his atention shifted as he felt is quads start to swell, the thick muscle split into three defined chunks. running his hand hover the growing muscle he couldnt contain himself "FUCK YESSS GROW MY QUADS TURN THEM INTO HUGE TREE TRUNKS!!" his thighs swelled pushing against one another forcing him to position his feet further apart, turning side on he watched his gluts clearly split from the quads as his hamstrings thickened huge cords of muscle growing. his meaty glutes flexed mushing against one another the rounded cubes of muscle pushing out over his hammies. his diamond calves swelled to the size that his thighs had prviously been. suddenly he moaned his hand on his cock "mmm my monster cock is getting bigger fuck im going to split people in two" he groaned as he stroaked the growing shaft, his had slit eaily thanks to the copious amounts of pree oozing from the head. stroking the shaft up to the head he noticed that his fingers could no longer close around it, each stroke had to travel further and further, the pencil thick veins visably throbbing as it grew. he began squeezing his balls as they grew now the size of tangerines he could feel them churning with copious amounts of thick hot cum. "yesss, yesss look at this stud no stalion" me moaned as he stroked faster working his balls he could feel the edge fast approaching his muscles tensing "fuck botta bust the biggest nut in histrory" he roared as his cock pulsed and throbbed, his muscles spazamed, flexed and bulged as he orgasmed, rope after rope of thick wite cum splatted against the mirror and over is abs, he could feel his balls shrink as he came buckets "YESSSSSSSSS...." he groaned as his orgasm wound down his cock not softening even one bit. "FUUCK" he panted as the afterglow of his orgasm washed over him, he could feel his tnagerine sized balls start to swell back to theyre full size as more cum was produced. Looking at his body in the now cum covered mirror he estimated he must be abot 6'8" tall , he headed to the bathroom and started measuring " a stallion for sure" he said in awe as me measured his coc 12.8*9 inches, "24" cannons" he moaned "tree trunks 34 inches" he groaned as his cock started leaking again "8 granite bricks" he said his voice rising as he punched his hard abs " piano key obliques and god damn wings" he roare as he spread his lats" he stareted flexing his extitement rising as each muscle rippled before his cum cannon exploded the first load hitting his cin and raing down onto his pecs before he grabbed the monster and pointed it towards the tub until his sack was drained. "fuck yes im the biggest most hung stud and i need me some fresh meat!" as he turned and left the bathroom. tbc... any suggestions for improvements or how to continue would be appreciated
  38. 10 points
    Jason Becomes a Man - Chapter 2 The next morning, Jason woke before Erika. He rolled out of bed and stretched with a yawn, his sinewy arms reaching over his head. He looked in the mirror at his impressive frame, his broad back tapering to his tight waist. He thought he looked different. Taller, more broad. His flaccid dick, still impressive at rest, swung over his large balls. His manly unit did its job. That’s the difference he saw in the mirror. Pride. A job fulfilled. He looked back at Erika, still sleeping. What had happened overnight? Did one of his boys seal the deal and make him a father? His cock twinged at the thought of Erika going about her day as if nothing was different, as if she wasn’t carrying his cum inside her. “Things are going to have to change around here,” Jason thought to himself. “If she gets pregnant, I’m going to need a better income. And I’m definitely going to need my own place.” But it was already 10 o’clock, and his future life would have to wait. He didn’t want to keep his friends waiting, and it was best that Erika got her rest. He would let her sleep. Besides, his parents wouldn’t be home until Monday, so they wouldn’t walk into see the girl he deflowered on their bed. Jason threw on a pair of shorts from the floor of his room and yanked an old tank top over his hulking shoulders. He knew his friends would razz him for the amount of chest hair he was showing, but fuck it. Some dudes are just hairy. Part of being a dude. *** Jason had been playing basketball with his high school buddies at the gym once a week since everyone came home for the summer. Initially, it was a huge shock to Steven, Allan, and Jacob to find that their tall, skinny former basketball buddy had beefed up like an NFL linebacker. They teased him, of course, but Jason had noticed right away a shift in the power dynamic between the four of them. They looked up to him, they deferred to his opinion… he was beginning to feel like the alpha in the pack. After they worked up a sweat on the court, the boys showered off in the locker room. Although they were young men now, once they all got together, it was never too long until they were screwing around like old times. Jason stepped out of the locker room shower, towel around his waist, his long, wet hair clining to his neck, and the thick hair on his powerful chest dripping with moisture. Steven whipped him on his side with a towel. “Is there a full moon out?” he yelled, “’cuz here comes the Wolfman!” Allan slapped Jason on the back leaving a red hand print, “You can take your sweater off in here, dude.” “Shut the fuck up, man.” Jason laughed in his deep baritone. His booming voice echoed off the tile on the walls as he whipped his towel back in revenge. Jason’s friends were athletes and all in great shape, but Jason’s size and build dwarfed all three of them. They were normal guys, healthy, average, but Jason was Zeus walking among mortal men. Jacob squinted at Jason as he dried his average frame. “What’s with you man? Something’s different.” “I boned you on the court, but what else is new?” Jason chuckled. “No, he’s right. Something’s different,” said Steven. He stood before his locker, fumbling to find his underwear inside. Usually, Jason changed in the shower, but today he tossed aside his towel and strutted across the room to his locker, his ample manhood dangling between his legs. He had never really aired out his full glory in the locker room before. Why had he ever thought twice about it? It felt good. It felt free. A man in his natural state. He noticed his buddies slyly sizing him up. It was only natural. It was evolution. Even among friends, it was their male nature to size up their reproductive competition. But it was quickly clear there was no contest. Even flaccid, the member protruding from Jason's manly, untamed bush and resting on his tangerine-sized balls put the other men to shame. It was a python at rest. There was something about this new confidence, the way he carried his broad shoulders. His mind seemed elsewhere. He was smiling a crooked, quiet smile. Allan laughed. “I know that look anywhere, man. Our bro finally got his dick wet!” Jason didn’t say anything. He grinned. “Dude! It’s about time, bro!” said Jacob as he slapped his friend on the back. “Who was it?” “Erika Auber.” Steven guffawed, “DUDE! She is smoking hot. Did you tear it up?” Jason tried to be modest, but he couldn’t help but puff out his thick chest. He had crossed the threshold and joined the ranks of the generations of men before him. He was part of the club now, and it felt good to brag about his conquest. “Dude, she was screaming. That pussy was so fucking tight I thought I was going to tear her in half.” “Damn, man,” Allan said, “With a pecker like yours I’m not surprised.” The other guys shot him a confused look. “Come on, it’s not like you guys weren’t thinking it.” Jason beamed. He relished in their admiration. He put his foot on the locker bench and leaned his arm on his leg, his large balls swinging free with his new confidence. “Yeah, by the time I bust her in her she already came three times.” The boys stared at Jason in sudden silence. “Woah man, you blew inside your first time out? Didn’t anyone show you how to use a condom?” said an incredulous Steven. “I tried, but she made me take it off. She was begging, dude.” “Damn,” said Allan, “my girl won’t let me come within five feet of her without a condom on.” The group was quiet. At first, Jason felt like he did something wrong, but he quickly sensed that his friends were jealous. “So…” said Steven looking at the locker floor tiles. “What was it like?” “It was… it was fucking hot,” boomed Jason in his deep voice. “Seeing my dick thrust in her, feeling her pussy clench tight as I filled her up… I felt like a man. It felt natural, like I had no other choice. Like all this hair, all this muscle,” Jason flexed a beefy arm, “it’s all for a purpose, you know?” The boys were silent. “What if you knock her up?” asked Jacob. “Then I knock her up, bro.” Jason ran his large hand through his wet beard. “Being a dad isn’t the end of the world.” The boys stared. Jason could feel the admiration and envy from his friends, three young men bowled over by his masculine dominance. Steven scratched his head. “You’re crazy, man.” But Jason could see the truth in their eyes; they wished they were him. They wished they had his powerful body, his manly demeanor. And more than anything, their animal, hormonal brains longed for the courage to fulfill their manly purpose as he did. The three young men’s eyes drifted to the tiled floor as they finished dressing, and Jason knew all of them were thinking about how it would feel to bust inside their women, consequences be damned. *** Jason knew if he was going to get serious about his business, he needed to invest in some quality dress shirts. Besides, there was no way the one nice shirt he had owned for the last five years fit his sail-like torso anymore. The mall was next door to the basketball court, and Jason convinced the guys to stop over with him before they disbanded for the day. Jason stepped through the automatic doors of the local mall, the guys following loyally behind. It felt good wearing his old gym tank in public. It gave his thick, powerful arms a chance to breathe, but if he was being fully honest, he was beginning to enjoy the attention he was getting. He embraced his overwhelming manliness now; after all, they were going to stare anyway. Why not give them something to stare at? His chest hair was growing so high up his neck it was hard to tell where his chest hair stopped and his beard began. His previous quiet confidence had been replaced with his manly swagger. He could feel the eyes of the men and women shopping sizing him up, the women desiring his superior genes, the men envious of his masculine form. Now that he had tasted sex, it was as if he was looking at the world with a new pair of eyes. Every passing woman was filtered through his animal brain. He saw tits, ass, and hips first, person second. He knew that it was the testosterone flooding his brain, a caveman sizing-up the breeding potential of his future mates. Still, it was a new challenge to act like a normal person and not see every girl that walked by as a potential lay. As Jason sifted through the clothing racks for an XL with a wide enough collar for his thick neck, Allan whispered, “Hey, don’t look to fast, but behind me…” He nodded his head backwards. It was Chris, their old assistant basketball coach. He was a medium-height and somewhat burly twenty-seven year-old. He had the broadness of a former athlete, but the padding of a man who enjoyed a few beers on the weekend (and maybe a few cheeseburgers during the week.) He had his arm around an attractive blonde woman who seemed to be the same age. Chris had been a star athlete during his high-school career, but had been a notorious douchebag to the boys on the team. “What do we do, do we say hello?” whispered Steven. Jacob shook his head, “No dude, what would we even say? But Jason had already pivoted toward their old coach, with his confidant swagger and a smirk on his face. “Chris!” Jason rumbled in his baritone. Chris whipped around, startled at the sudden approach of a large, brutish man shouting his name. He looked confused, trying to decipher the face underneath the generous beard, until it clicked… “Jason!” Chris looked Jason up and down, his eyes lingering on his massive arms. “Hey.” Although he didn’t say much, Jason saw the mixture of jealousy and intimidation in Chris’s eyes as he took in his hulking body, as well as his strained efforts not to acknowledge it. It was a glorious turn-around, the man who had once called Jason a “pencil-neck wuss” as he punished him with laps around the track, now coming to terms with the brawny Adonis before him. Jason offered his large hand, and shook Chris’s with a strong but controlled grip. He threw in a little tricep flex for good measure. “You look good, Jason.” “Thanks, coach. Don’t really do much cardio these days.” Chris forced a small laugh. He gestured to the blonde at his side. “This is my wife, Diane. We just got married in the Fall.” Jason reached out his meaty hand and shook Diane’s much smaller, much more delicate hand. His caveman brain performed it’s routine scan; decent face, ass nothing to write home about, but a great pair of breasts. He felt her pulse racing in her hand, and her eyes locked with his. The animal instincts echoed in Jason’s head. He could smell the pheromones. “Nice to meet you,” Jason muttered. “Nice to meet you too,” Diane muttered back. The moment was tense. Jason broke the uncomfortable silence. “Listen, I won’t keep you any longer, I’m kinda in a rush and I gotta try this shirt on before I head out of here. Nice to see you again, dude.” “Yeah, you too,” Chris replied, although he didn’t sound completely sincere. Jason left. The boys waved at their old coach awkwardly from a distance. As Jason walked into the dressing rooms, he noticed how the overhead light cast shadows on his sinewy, thick form. He peeled off his tank top and gave a quick bicep flex in the mirror. The one-up he had on that jerk Chris had the testosterone coursing through his system harder than ever. It was a rush to dwarf a man eight years his senior, and the rush of power of he felt was a wake-up call to how much he had changed over the last year. Then, the sound of sliding curtain rings. Jason felt a breeze as the dressing room curtain swung open and shut, and when he turned around, there was Diane. “Umm…” “Shhh, shhh,” she pressed her finger to his lips, “Chris is outside.” Diane unbuttoned her blouse and shook off her jeans. She had the largest breasts he had seen in person, and as she removed her bra, they jiggled with her efforts. “We don’t have a lot of time. I want you to fuck me.” “But, what about- I mean, you’re married...” Diane’s breasts heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. “I can’t explain it, I don’t know what it is about you,” she said, sliding her underwear down her legs, “I mean, I know it’s my fertile time of the month, so I'm probably just extra horny… I thought after our two kids I was done, but… the moment I saw you… I had this uncontrollable urge to carry your child.” Diane sat on the dressing room bench, completely nude. Jason couldn’t help but reach out and massage one of her tits with his large hand as she looked longingly into his eyes. “Please, please…” Jason knew this was a world of trouble, maybe a quick kiss, a quick touch, but that was it. But the moment he saw Diane delicately splay her legs, his rational mind gave way to the grunting caveman. He caught sight of her, the wide lips, the elegant folds… her pinkness yawned for him, and she was already wet with anticipation. “You’re such a goddamned stud. I need you to be my stud,” she whimpered. Unthinking, Jason slid off his basketball shorts. His cock swelled at the thought of getting wet again, of entering this fertile, ovulating woman and planting its flag in her. “Oh shit, that’s big,” Diane muttered with a mixture of fear and excitement. Jason’s stud brain knew there was no time for foreplay. This was evolution, this was genetic competition. He thrust his cock past the lips of her eager vagina, and his synapses fired with electricity at the feeling of her hot, soft walls on his thick shaft. She felt different from Erika, but the masterful feeling of soaring Jason felt was the same. He braced himself with his hands on the mirror on the wall, and drew in and out. “Yes, yes… I’m gonna make you a daddy,” Diane moaned. Jason thrust in and out. He couldn’t avoid seeing his prime, muscular frame fucking this woman from all angles in the mirrors, each cord in his thick legs, his round ass flexing and rippling as his cock slid in and out of the trembling woman underneath him. He flexed his bicep in the reflection, admiring his beefy, hirsute form as he worked his way ever deeper inside. He hardly felt like that Jason from months ago, admiring his body for the first time. Now he was a man, taking his pleasure as a man does. This flex was patting himself on the back, reveling in his own power. He thought of Chris on the other side of the dressing room wall, a man in his prime several years older than him, probably fucking years before him, and here he was, balls deep into his begging wife. She was muffling moans of pleasure with her crumpled blouse, while his superior cock swelled with its purpose, ready to deliver his virile cum. She wanted his child, and her husband would raise his offspring, none the wiser. As he gently pushed within her, he caressed her ample breasts and explored her nipples with his tongue. So pillowy, so soft… he loved the weight of them. He would make them swollen, heavy with nourishment to feed his child, a result of the life he would implant inside her. But now, at this moment, they belonged to him. They were for his pleasure alone. He looked down at his girthy shaft, entering her again and again, each time he withdrew the lips of her femininity gently folding back on his penis as if to drawing him back in. He felt the now familiar sensation of her clenching tight around his manhood, and as his own pleasure built, his rational mind momentarily broke through. What if he pulled out just before he came? That was all it would take, all pleasure and no risk. He would still get off, still a story to brag about to the boys. But his masculine instincts were stronger. As his mind reeled with climatic pleasure, his drive to dominate, his uncontrollable urge to reproduce drove him deeper. He felt his large balls slap against her pussy lips as his lengthy cock reached for it's goal, and with a low, primal grunt, he fired his manly load in her waiting womb. Each pump an incredible release, each pulse euphoric bliss. He thrust a few more times, his thick shaft coated with his own cum. Diane shuddered, and as Jason felt his loads subside, he slowly pulled out of her. For a moment, Diane sat heaving on the bench. Once again, Jason surveyed his work. Cock still at attention, he saw his manly juices drip out of her femininity, and his two massive hand prints smeared on the mirror behind her. *** Jason exited the dressing area to find his friends awkwardly talking with Chris. Allan caught sight of him, and shot him am unmistakable look that said “Please save us!” Jason joined the group just as Chris reached the tail end of his story. He was clearly bragging about something, and the guys were having none of it. Steven looked at Jason, suspicious. “Dude, you know your shorts on backward, right? Weren’t you trying on shirts?” Jason shoved him to shut him up. “Listen, it was good to see you Chris. Sorry to run out of here, but we have to get going.” Chris extended his hand to shake. “Alright, I’ll say goodbye on behalf of Diane, she went to the bathroom and hasn’t come back. You know women.” Jason gripped Chris’s hand with his confident strength and shook. “Yeah, I do.” They parted ways. The boys left quickly, and as they exited the automatic doors, Steven stopped in his tracks. He punched Jason in the shoulder. “Wait man, did you…” Jason turned around. He smirked his proud, cocky smirk and tugged at his beard. Steven muttered as the other guys shook their heads in silent awe. “Damn, dude. I gotta start working out more.”
  39. 10 points
    Chapter 7 All the way back to my apartment, I was in a panicky froth, so Mo took the reins. He got me home, he calmed me down, he made lunch. While we were sitting at the dining room just finishing up the meal, Mo asked me to replay the entire scene from my point of view. I told him in as explicit details as I felt comfortable sharing with my little brother. I ended by saying, “And that’s when the fantasy ended.” “It wasn’t a fantasy,” Mo said flatly, putting his fork down. “It was a vision. Of a possible future.” “So, I’m psychic now?” Mo shook his head. “No,” he said bluntly. “But any time you touch someone who would be willing to have sex with you, the spell will show you exactly what that sex would look like if you gave in.” “That’s psychic.” Mo rolled his eyes at me. “No, it’s not. It’s a possible future. It’s a seduction malediction.” Mo cleared our plates and went into the kitchen. Clearly, he thought this explained everything. “Try that again,” I said, “remembering I don’t have your fancy magic law degree.” Mo came back into the dining room with a bottle of white wine and two glasses. He put one glass in front of me and sat down. “It’s a temptation.” He poured himself a tall glass of wine. “First, the spell makes you more sexually attractive to increase the number of people willing to have sex with you. Then, it ramps up your sex drive. Expect to be hornier than usual for a while. After that, it puts temptations in your path. Any time you make even casual contact with a person who finds you sexually attractive, the spell shows you just how they will fuck your brains out. In full, HD, pornographic surround sound. You still get to choose whether you make it reality. But the visions will make it almost impossible for you to choose anything else. You will feel like you’ve already given in to temptation so you’re more likely to choose infidelity. The visions won’t go away until you cave and cheat on your husband. The spell is trying to get you to have sex. With someone. Anyone. As long as it’s not Austin.” “Who would cast that sort of spell?” Mo poured me a glass of wine. His mouth was flat, not even the smallest uptick of a smile. His brow darkened. His teeth were slightly clenched, his jaw set. After a pause that felt eternal, Mo said, “This spell is really popular among jealous wives. It’s the sort of spell she pays to have cast on her husband if she thinks he’s cheating.” “A mystical honeytrap?” “If you like.” That’s when it hit me. “You think Oz cast this spell?” “I think Austin had this spell cast,” Mo corrected. “Why would you say such an awful thing?” “Goodness knows he can afford it. And how old are you?” “35. You know that.” “And how old was Austin when he married you?” “35. You better be getting to a point soon.” “Wasn’t Austin in a long-term relationship when he met you? Someone he’d been with for ten years?” In a harsher tone, Mo added, “Someone his own age?” I got up from the table and stormed out into the living room, saying, “I didn’t steal him, if that’s what you’re implying.” Mo followed me with the wine. He put my glass on the side table next to me. Quietly, calmly, soothingly, he said, “I was implying something worse. I think Austin had this spell put on you so he could catch you cheating, keep everything in the divorce, and shack up with another 20-year-old. Maybe even one he’s already dating.” I threw my wine in Mo’s face. “Oz would never cheat on me!” Leaving Mo wet and silent, I ran to my room and locked the door. Inside my room, I darted around, scattered. I hadn’t thought about Oz’s ex in years. Years. But Oz wouldn’t have done this! I was sure of it. But Mo had definitely spooked me. From the other side of my door, Mo continued talking. “Hate me if you must, but we’re family. I have to protect you.” “You’ve never liked Oz.” “I’ve never trusted him. He was practically old enough to be our dad, and he broke up with his boyfriend of 10 years to be with you. You have to admit that that is super shady.” “But we’ve been married for 15 years.” “And now it’s time for him to trade you in for a younger model. He’s been in Germany for six months. Doesn’t that seem excessively long?” I collapsed onto my bed. Mo was making too much sense. My chest hurt. Mo kept up the assault. “I’d wager money that seconds before you changed, he sent you a text message. Am I right?” Fuck. I got up and unlocked the door. Mo came in and jumped on the bed. “Hate to say I told you so.” I leaned against the doorframe. “So, okay, I still have one question.” “Ask.” “Why did he make it so no one at work would notice?” A puzzled look fell on Mo’s face, and he said nothing. “Wouldn’t he want as many people pawing at me as possible?” I ventured. “Wouldn’t he want everyone to notice?” Mo shrugged. “You’re right. That is weird.” “It’s gotta be someone I work with.” “Okay, yes. That’s what I thought too before we went to the coffee shop,” Mo confessed. “But it’s a seduction malediction. Who at work would care if you cheated on your husband?” “Vernon Bailey,” I suggested, scurrying to join Mo on the bed. “He’s richer than Oz. And, he called me while I was texting with Oz.” “Okay, fair point. That makes some sense. He thinks you’re hot, het gets you even hotter…” I interrupted. “But Vernon’s a coworker; he’d be blind to the changes.” “Not if he’s the contractor. A good drafter would allow the contractor to know the spell was cast successfully.” “That makes sense,” I said. “Back to Vernon. He gets you even hotter, but no one at work notices so it doesn’t hurt his business arrangements. He ruins your marriage and then steals you for himself.” “And if this thing really is a curse…” “Malediction,” Mo interrupted. “Whatever. If it’s supposed to punish me, I have enemies at work.” Mo laughed. “Who at work would want to punish you?” “Off the top of my head? Garrett.” “And who is this Garrett?” “He works under me in the art department. He would love to ruin my career, my marriage, my life. Whatever he could get his hands on. He hates me.” I was hit by a sudden thought. “And I was talking to him when I changed.” Mo raised an eyebrow in doubt. “I know how much money you make. If he works under you, could he really afford it?” “Unlikely. But maybe he’s the actual caster. Can casters be their own contractors?” “Of course, they can. But there’s a bigger problem. More people are over seven feet tall than can use magic. That’s why me with my law degree was such a find. And why we’re all so expensive. If he was a caster, why would he work for a pittance at your company?” “You didn’t know you were magic until you were 23. Maybe he just found out. Maybe I’m his first spell.” “That’s complete speculation.” “But it’s not impossible.” “No. I guess not. But did he notice when you changed? If he can use magic, he wouldn’t be blind to the spell.” “I don’t think he did. But if he’s trying to ruin my life, he wouldn’t exactly tip his hand.” Mo remained unconvinced. “It’s far more likely someone just paid to have the spell done.” “There’s probably a dozen other people who hate me that I don’t know about. I’m in middle management. We’re notoriously despised. Hell, maybe they crowdfunded. I don’t know. Let’s not blow up my marriage until we have proof.” Mo’s face lit up. “I’ve got a few weeks until my new job starts. Could you wrangle me a gig in the legal department? I’m bar certified.” “What are you suggesting?” “I come work with you for a bit.” I scoffed loudly. “I can do some sniffing around. Even though I’m 99% certain your husband did this, I am at a complete loss why he wouldn’t want your coworkers to know. And I have to find out.” I nodded, accepting his proposal. Mo stuck out his hand to shake and make it official. “Is it safe for me to touch that?” I asked. The vision of railing Oliver in the lounge of the coffee shop was never going to leave my mind, and I did not want to be scarred by my brother’s perversions. For a moment, Mo looked confused. Then he added, “Come on, Eenie! You’re my brother!” “Really?” I said, arching an eyebrow. “Not kink shaming. I’ve done some stuff that would make you blush.” “Well aware of that,” I reminded him. “But you’re my big brother. I don’t want to fuck you!” He tackled me while tickling. I had no vision of us fucking. Thankfully.
  40. 10 points
    I'm definitely not used to writing a slower paced story, so please bear with me on this one. Part 1 Part 2 ____________________________________________ I actually ran to the campus cafeteria as fast as I could, considering my legs were like jelly. Usually I'd never run like that out in public since I hated anything that would draw attention to me, but I didn't care about that right now. I just wanted to get there so I could see Jack. I was really nervous that he'd already left. I ran up to the building and through the front double doors, not even paying attention to the loud noise I'd just made as I entered. No one seemed to really notice anyway; it was already relatively noisy inside since it was around dinner time. I stood in the entryway, looking around but trying not to be too conspicuous about it. I did have my pride, after all, and didn't want to look like the loser who had no friends. Of course, I knew, rationally, that no one was probably going to think that anyway, but I still got in my own head sometimes. I scanned the room, looking at any tables I could see, trying to locate Jack. He didn't say he was going to go change or anything, so I was looking for the same Jack I saw in the gym. Light jacket with the school colors and logo, sleeveless shirt with the dark gym shorts, and messy hair. I couldn't find him, though. I started looking at the tables with several people, even the full tables, thinking he was probably popular and met up with a bunch of friends. I just couldn't find his face. I was internally searing and kicking myself, wondering why I could let my horny and hard dick control my actions earlier. I could have jerked off any other time! I dejectedly walked towards the food line and decided I should at least get a bunch of food and just go back to the dorm. The line only had about 3 people in front of me, so I was happy at least I wouldn't have to wait too long. I had almost reached the back of the line when someone bumped into me from behind, damn nearly knocking me over. I'm a passive person, even though I liked to imagine I could be a tough guy, so my first instinct was to apologize to the person who bumped into me and let them go past me. "Sorry," I muttered, moving aside, not even looking at the person. "Shut up." I looked up and it was Jack, just standing there, shit-eating grin on his face. He gave a small, half-hearted wave when I finally looked up at him. "Jack! I figured you'd left!" "No, I was sitting on the bench outside and saw you run right by me." "You were outside? You actually waited for me..." "Yeah I waited for you, what'd you think I was gonna do? Just leave? I told you I'd wait and I meant what I said." "Yeah I just... I don't know... I guess I didn't think you'd stick around for this long." Jack kind of chuckled at that. "You're so me. Past-me." I must've gave him a look of bemusement. He continued, "I had the exact same thoughts back when I first started working out. About my friend who'd gotten me into it. I didn't think he'd stick around. I thought I was just a burden to him and he'd just disappear. But he didn't. And I don't intend to. I'll stick with you as long as you stick with me." He gave me a smile. "Cool?" "Y-yeah, we're cool." I was relieved, but his assurance that he was just like me was also a bit concerning. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, yet. "Relax, dude. Come on," he said, and put his arm around my shoulders and guided me towards the line. The weight of his arm was unmistakable, and it was clear it was a muscled arm, even under the sleeve of that jacket. Remembering when he flexed his arm for me, my dick started to plump and harden. He seemed to know me all too well, and I guess we were a lot alike, based on what he's said so far, so I couldn't help but wonder if he did some of these things knowing he was teasing me. Jack was very knowledgeable about nutrition, based on the explosion of information he'd given me as soon as it came time to select our food. He told me what types of food to avoid and which ones to prioritize, saying that I wanted to get a lot of calories in, but they had to be "good" calories, not just fatty calories. "You'll never grow if you don't eat," he said. "People always think the hard part of gaining muscle is lifting weights, but it's really the nutrition. So many people give up because they never bother to learn about the nutrition." And he made me get a lot of food, too. I expected as much, but I worried I wouldn't be able to consume it all. He assured me, though, that even though it seemed daunting, it was just a matter of consistency and routine, and my stomach and body would get used to the amounts of food I would need, and with the amount of work I'd be putting my muscles through, my body would metabolize the food fast. Which means I'd have to eat a lot, and often. "That's a lot of eating..." I said, sort of trailing off. "Yes, it is, and I'm not lying when I say it's the hard part. You got really into your workout earlier, so I don't think for one second you'll have trouble doing that part. The nutrition is where you're gonna have to show you really want this. Do you really want to gain muscle, or are you gonna disappoint me?" I looked at his face with that question, looking for a hint of joviality, and I saw none. Wow. He wasn't trying to be funny, and when I pondered an answer to the question, I realized that I already respected him so much that I truly didn't want to disappoint him. I wanted to impress him. I wanted to show him that he hasn't wasted his time on me. "No man, I won't disappoint you. I definitely want this," I said, and continued eating. "Cool," he smiled, and continued eating his own dinner. "And uh... I want to thank you for taking the time to show me these things. I've never had a friend that's done anything like this for me." He smiled again, "Dude, I told you, I was able to read you like an easy book. I just wanted to be there for someone who was clearly just like me. But, I'm also glad you think of me as a friend, already." I smiled, and I'm sure I blushed a little. "But dude, we gotta do something about--" he gestured his hands at me, "--this." "What?" I had legitimately no idea what he was talking about. He sort of waved his hands at me when he said it, and my first guess was that he meant my body, but I thought we'd already settled on how I was doing something about it. "Your clothes, dude. You look like a ten-year-old nerd who still lets mommy dress him." I blushed with embarrassment. "I... I've never... I don't..." Jack started laughing. "It's alright, I'm just giving you shit. But if you wanna work on some style, I can help you there, too. It's just that you're wearing yet another sweater and it's kinda lame. We gotta get you dressed like an athlete. Soon you're gonna have muscles growing from your limbs, and you want your clothes to show a hint of it, but not all of it. Let people know you got something going on, but let them guess what they can't see." I don't think my face stopped being red, but I felt more excited now than embarrassed. As long as Jack was willing, I was going to let him guide me in any way he saw fit. I left the campus cafeteria with a lot to think about. I'd actually bothered to take notes on the nutritional aspects of bodybuilding. And yeah, I actually used the term "bodybuilding," which is a term I'd never have dreamed of using to describe anything that I was doing. And yet here I was. Walking back to my dorm room, still with shaky legs, the phone number AND SnapChat of a new friend added to my phone, and the main things on my mind were what foods I needed to start eating and cutting out, and when I could workout again. Jack told me I can't do too much or it'll just be harmful. He said he'd call me when it was time for me to go back. I finally made it to my dorm room, and this time the lights were on already when I walked in. My roommate was back from wherever he was, finally. He was sitting at his desk, and it appeared as though he was studying. He turned towards me when he heard the door click shut, and I saw a bit of a smile creep across his face. "Hey maaaaannnn--" he drew out the 'man' part, "--what have you been up to?" He asked the question then sat there, a strange smile across his face, looking expectantly at me. "...Why are you being weird?" I asked. He chuckled a little. "Am I being weird? Well, I guess I was just a little... surprised... when I came back here and walked into what smelled a little too much like... well, cum, and then I saw your mirror. What have you been up to?" FUCK. I didn't even think about it! Shit. How do I explain this? "I, uh, errr---" I was stammering. I didn't have anything to say. But then it occurred to me that we're both dudes. I'm sure he's jerked off before. Probably right in this room. So who is he to judge me? "We're dudes, sometimes we get horny and gotta take care of business, you know? I just couldn't take it anymore and had to rub one out." I felt really cool for coming up with that. I felt like Jack was already rubbing off on me. "Uh huhhhhh..." he responded, still looking right at me, his eyes narrowed a little bit. "So, can I ask what made you so horny?" "It was... I... I was thinking about... No, you may not." Okay, the 'cool' factor took a major hit on that one. I tried to take a step forward and of course my legs decided that this was the best time to let me down, literally, and I stumbled and landed on my knee. My roommate, Cory, just started busting up laughing. "Trouble walking?" he said, between the laughs. With some struggling, I was able to finally pick myself up and put weight on my legs again, as Cory's laughs finally subsided enough. He spoke again, "Seriously bro, what's going on with you? In just the last few minutes you've shown behavior I've never seen out of you. Is something going on? I mean, you jerk off all over the mirror, and I'll admit it's a shit ton of spunk for a skinny guy like you, and then you walk in here unable to walk. Tell me what's going on, because I'd rather know now if you're doing some illegal shit, like drugs." Drugs?! He thinks I'm on drugs?!? It'd be funnier if it couldn't potentially get me into trouble. Or at least disrupt my life a bit. I sighed. "No, I'm not on drugs. I'm not that stupid. Promise me you won't laugh." "Dude, we're roommates. AND friends. I think I've shown you that you can trust me." "Well, I decided to start hitting the gym. I want to gain some weight. Some muscle." I half-heartedly flexed my arms, just to extraneously prove what I meant when I said 'muscle,' not that he'd see anything anyway since my arms were covered by my lame sweater sleeves. "Oh, dude that's awesome. Why would I laugh? Plenty of guys hit the gym. It's actually what many would consider, uh, normal?" Cory has this tendency to mark pretty much everything he says with a hint of sarcasm. I was relieved, though, that he wasn't making fun of me. I was starting to feel like I was making this whole fitness journey out to be much more scary than it actually is. "I guess I've always just been intimidated by the gym," I finally said. "Dude, so is like, every other guy out there before they finally get into it. You broke that barrier, and now you just have to keep at it." He actually made me feel pretty good about myself, if I was being honest. "So... what made you horny?" he asked again. "Cory don't you think that's a little personal?" "Get used to that sort of locker room talk, because you're probably gonna hear a lot more of it. So tell me what made you horny." I felt like my whole world was changing. Was he right? Was I really going to hear a lot more talk like that in the future? "I, uh, finished showering earlier, and I guess I was still pumped with adrenaline from the gym, so I was a little horny to begin with, but then I saw myself in the mirror and couldn't help imagining what it'd be like to finally have some muscle on my body. And it made me get even hornier, and I couldn't help myself." "That got you horny?" he asked, and I got worried he'd now make fun of me. "Well... yeah." "Seems pretty normal to me. Lots of guys get horny from working out." I was relieved, yet again, that he wasn't about to make me feel like a loser. But then he stood from his chair and walked over to me. He stood in front of me and said "I used to hit the gym before college started, and I tried to keep up with it, but I'm finding it hard to make time. But I think my work is still holding up." He then hooked his thumbs into the bottom of his shirt and lifted it over his head, revealing his torso. And fuck. Cory had a body. He wasn't as toned as Jack, but his muscles definitely had more size. How had I not noticed this before? And then he flexed his biceps, and they rose up like baseballs under his thin skin. "What, umm, what are you doing?" I stuttered out. "What's it look like? I'm flexing," he nonchalantly said, looking at his own biceps. But then he relaxed his arms and ran his hands over his chest and abs, which weren't all too defined, but still evident. And his chest definitely still bulged out nicely. And I hated to admit it, and I tried to keep myself from letting it happen, but my cock was starting to thicken and grow. And just then, Cory relaxed again and let his arms hang at his sides, and I once again wondered how I'd never noticed how thick his upper arms were. I guess I just figured he was simply 'chunky.' But he was pretty built. "This is how I know about gym stuff," he said, "But I'm more interested in something else right now." He stepped closer to me, close enough that I swear I could feel his breath, and he reached his hand out and placed it on my crotch. FUCK. "Yeah, muscles make you hard. Period. I thought so." I felt completely mute. I had no words. I don't think I even had coherent thoughts. He was right, though. All my eyes wanted to look at right now was Cory's body. And with his hand on my crotch, my dick throbbed uncontrollably, and I felt pre beginning to build up and leak. My breaths were becoming more shallow. He took his other hand and grabbed my hand, and placed it on his chest. He flexed his pecs and I felt the undeniably hard muscle flex and bulge. My cock once again throbbed, hard. He took his hand off my crotch and slowly reached down my pants and grabbed it, skin to skin. "Wow, you're really hard. You're a muscle nerd. Good to know." And with that, he took his hand out of my pants, turned around, and grabbed his shirt and began putting it back on. His back was wide, too, and clearly a muscle back. It was actually hot, and I couldn't believe I didn't know my own roommate had this much muscle on his body. I stood there, mouth hanging open, with no words to say, not because I didn't want to speak, but because I couldn't form any thoughts. I was now sexually frustrated beyond belief. My dick was flexing and throbbing, and there was even a wet spot forming on the front. Cory, now clothed, turned back around to face me and, with a grin on his face, clearly pleased with himself, said "You should probably take care of that thing." But then, to my astonishment, and beyond anything I could ever imagine, he pushed up his sleeves and gave one more double bicep flex, saying "Boom," in a low yet commanding voice. Those nice biceps rose back up into the baseballs that they were, and just seeing him flex this one last time sent me over the edge. My whole body shuddered, my hips bucked involuntarily, and I felt that sharp and intense pressure at the tip of my cock as my cum exploded forth into my boxers. I had to have shot at least four times, the wet spot growing ever bigger on my pants, and I felt a soft moan escape from my mouth. I heard a low chuckle coming from Cory, and he let his arms back down and plopped himself back in his chair. "I guess I took care of it for you, then." I stood there, still, quivering, my sensitive dick receding and the friction against my wet boxers causing me to squirm, with my mouth hanging open. Again. "W-Why, Cory?" He grinned an evil grin this time. His eyes darkened, and I could tell he was thinking something different from what he said, but I had no more energy to put forth right now. "Because I wanted to have some fun." I wasn't satisfied with that answer, but I had to get out of these wet boxers. I wondered if Cory was secretly gay. He never hinted at it before, and he'd sometimes talk about girls he thought were hot, but the fact that he'd just done what he'd done was making me question him. What will happen in this dorm room when I actually do start getting big? Well, if I start getting big. I want to be confident, but I don't want to get ahead of myself. I also started to feel really tired, and I knew I'd need to sleep soon. Jack was sure to mention how I'd need to get rest if I wanted my muscles to grow. I sure did cum a lot, considering I'd just jerked off a couple hours ago. Time to shower. Again.
  41. 10 points
    Chapter 5 True to my word, I snuck out of work at noon. Even if Mo hadn’t been home waiting for me, I probably would’ve wanted to hightail it. I hesitated opening the front door. Mo was left to entertain himself this morning, which normally for him meant cruising Grindr. I half-expected to open the door and find him balls deep in some random stranger in the middle of the living room, rather than his guest room. So, I slowly swung the door open, and was pleased to find Mo in the living room reading a book. “I’m home,” I cried, coming in and closing the door behind me. “Perfect timing,” Mo said, not looking up from the page. “My fuckbuddy just left ten minutes ago. Charming man. Lovely hair. He was sad to go, but I told him I was in town to see my brother.” When Mo stopped talking, he suddenly scrunched up his nose, a confused look dawning on his face. “It can’t be,” he said. Then he looked up at me. “Holy fuck, Eenie! Look at you!” “Good. You can see it.” “See it?” He ran over and put his hands on my chest and shoulders, slowly rubbing them. “I can see it, feel it, smell it. Austin will flip.” “I know what you mean,” I said, lazily flexing my left bicep. It was then that Mo’s strange word choice hit me. “Smell it?” “Yeah. The spell. I didn’t know you knew about magic, but, hey, one less thing I have to lie to you about.” “What spell?” “The one you did to get bigger for Austin’s birthday. How much did it cost?” “I didn’t do a spell.” Mo waved away my refusal. “I know, I know. You paid someone to do a spell.” “No, I didn’t.” “I don’t understand,” Mo said, shaking his head. “There was no spell.” Mo sniffed again. “Someone cast a spell on you.” I pushed Mo away, took off my tie, undid my top collar buttons, and kicked off my shoes. “Very funny, brother. I may not be as smart as you, but I know magic’s not real.” I turned my back on him and headed to the bedroom. “Look at yourself,” Mo said. “Your ass is a whole handful bigger than it was this morning.” I closed my bedroom door and locked it. Mo would follow me in if I didn’t stop him. Through the door, I called, “I’ve been working out for half a year.” “I know,” Mo responded, trying to pull my door open. “I saw you this morning. I don’t care if you got a pump on your way home. This is magic.” As I changed into my weekend clothes (a pair of jeans I’d had since college and an old, beat-up flannel), I could feel just how tight my comfy clothes were. My comfy clothes had never been tight. I was objectively, observably bigger. But that didn’t mean magic was real, did it? Mo knocked on the bedroom door. “If you’re embarrassed that you spent a lot of money on something so vain and self-centered, trust me, I do not care. I’m just glad I get to talk about this stuff with you.” I opened the door to let him in. “This stuff?” “Damn, Eenie. You are squeezed into those pants.” Clearing my throat, I repeated, “This stuff?” “Magic. I’ve been studying magic contract law for the last ten years.” My face betrayed that he was just confusing me further. “Magic is real. I’ve been studying it for a decade. I can smell the spell all over you. Why hide it?” “I didn’t do any spell.” Mo gestured to my clearly enlarged body. “Someone did. And I can prove it. How much did you weigh this morning?” “170. Ish.” “Great. And now?” I went into the bathroom and stood on the bathroom scale. “180,” I answered defeatedly. Mo followed me into the bathroom and put his hand on my shoulder. “Can anything other than magic explain a ten-pound increase in one day?” “I guess not.” “So, just own up to it.” Mo slapped my ass, then turned around and began preening in the mirror. “You know you’re as buff as me now, right?” “I knew I’d gotten bigger. Hell, my cock got bigger.” “Nice,” Mo interrupted. He turned around from the mirror and smiled maniacally. “Can I see?” “No, you cannot!” I covered my crotch with both my hands and backed away a little bit. “Spoilsport,” Mo said. “Let’s go back to the living room where it’s comfortable, and we can talk about this rationally.” With that, Mo left the bathroom. “Talk about magic rationally?” I said, mostly to myself. “I’m in the living room now,” Mo sang across the apartment. I followed him into the living room. Mo was sitting on the couch, patting a spot next to him. I willfully sat in my armchair across the room. “Okay. Explain.” “You really aren’t the contractor, are you?” That didn’t answer anything, so I said nothing. Mo continued. “A spell as complicated as this usually will require four parties: recipient, contractor, caster, drafter.” He counted each on a different finger. “The recipient is the person or thing the spell is cast on. That’s you.” He pointed at me. “The contractor is the person who hires someone to get a spell cast. I thought that was you too, but clearly it isn’t. The caster is the person who actually performs the spell.” Mo looked around the room before adding, almost as an aside, “A really talented caster is not cheap, but you and Austin are swimming in cash.” His aside over, he finished explaining. “The drafter is the person who writes up the contract. Like me. Only I didn’t draft this contract.” “Spells require contracts?” “Legally, yes. Casters who perform spells without contracts get punished by the larger magic-using community. Even people performing death curses—which are, by the way, extremely illegal—use contracts to avoid their wrath. The last time someone legally cast a spell without a drafter… well… the Borgias happened.” “Someone cast a spell on me?” “You couldn’t smell it?” “Smell what?” “When a spell has run its course, the air is filled with an unmistakable smell. Even people without the slightest magical ability can smell it. It’s hard to describe. It’s like… pennies and wintergreen.” “I didn’t smell that at all.” “Hmm.” Mo drew closer to me to smell me. “The spell’s not done. I can smell the spell all over you, but it smells more like clay. It’s still running its course.” “Please stop smelling me,” I said, pushing Mo away. “Right, sorry.” He took his seat on the couch again. There was a lot of information coming at me all at once. “Wait. Back up. You’re a drafter. Does that mean you can do magic?” Mo laughed. “Technically. But that is such a technicality. When the magic using community finds you, they assign you a numerical level to describe your abilities. They found me when I just graduated law school. I’m a 0.5. I barely register. I’m a rounding error. I’m magical enough to know a spell’s been cast, so I can check up on the contract. That’s why the company I work for picked me to study as a drafter. But apart from that… To do something like this, you’re probably going to want a 3.5 or higher. The really pricy ones are 4.2 or 4.3.” “Put it in muggle terms,” I said. “Okay. If you went to Germany with Austin, you could say hello, and ask where the bathroom was, and say just enough to find someone who spoke English. Austin is opening a branch of a company and talking to locals, construction workers, and government officials in their native language. You’re a 0.5; Austin is a 4.2.” “Got it.” With that clear, I could back up a little bit. “You said my spell is not done. Does that mean I’m going to keep changing?” Mo made a non-committal noise. “Depends on what’s in the contract.” “That’s less than helpful.” “It’s honest. It took me ten years to learn everything, and I already had a law degree. There’s a lot of arcane language, legal argot, hyper-specific context, and assorted rigamarole.” “So, you have no idea what I should expect before the spell finishes.” “Not without reading the contract, no.” I wanted to kick him. “Not even the broad strokes?” “Well, the first thing I would want to know what type of contract it is. Most contracts fall into one of two categories: a 3-B or an HCM.” “You weren’t kidding about the legal terms.” “I’d hope it’d be a 3-B. A 3-B stands for Blessing, Boon, or Benediction. There are, of course, exceptions, but a 3-B is generally a gift given to the recipient.” “I’ll take that one please.” “Well, you can be happied to death, so I’d still want to read the contract.” “And the other one?” “An HCM is a Hex, Curse, or Malediction. Basically, these contracts are used as a form of punishment and, with a handful of exceptions, mean bad things for the recipient.” I nodded, then gestured. “I think some extra muscle counts as a gift.” Mo looked uncomfortable. “Spell’s not done, Eenie.” I really didn’t want to ask what the negative consequences might be, so, I decided to divert the conversation. “Why couldn’t anyone at work see that I’m bigger?” “They couldn’t?” I shook my head. “That is unusual. They should’ve noticed right away. If people are blind to the spell, that suggests it was worked into the contract.” “Is that good or bad?” “I need more information. If the wider world can’t see the spell, that suggests one set of variables. But if it’s just the people at work who can’t see the spell, that suggests a different set of variables.” I nodded, pretending I completely followed. “Is there someone you see every day who cannot be interpreted as a coworker? A neighbor, a friend, a gym buddy? Someone who would’ve seen you ten pounds ago but hasn’t seen you today? Ideally, someone who saw you this morning.” “Well, my barista. He likes to flirt with me, and compliment me on my physique, and sometimes gives me free scones. I didn’t see him this morning, but I saw him last night, right after the gym.” Mo’s face lit up. “Care for a cup of joe?”
  42. 10 points
    Chapter 1 Even without my alarm, I woke up at 5:30, long before I needed to get ready for work. There was no way I could have stayed asleep until my alarm went off: Oz called on Friday mornings. Oz had gone to Europe almost six months ago. He was a big muckety-muck in his company, three steps from the CEO, and they sent him overseas to set up a new German branch. In our entire fifteen-year marriage, we’d never been apart this long. We did our best to compensate, keeping in contact, trading texts and phone calls. The texts were whenever; the calls were scheduled. I called him on Tuesday afternoon at noon; he called me on Friday morning at six. Germany’s six hours ahead of Massachusetts. So, on Tuesdays, as I was having lunch, I called him as he was getting home from work. On Fridays, as I was getting ready to go work, he’d call me while he was having lunch. Unfortunately, Oz isn’t a fan of phone sex or Skype sex. Don’t get me wrong; he’s not a prude. When we’re on the same continent, we have a lovely, active sex life. We’d tried phone sex early on, but Oz got too embarrassed. Oz will flirt over the phone, but not much more than that. After six months apart, I was getting antsy for his return. It wasn’t ideal, I admit, but I only had to put up with it for two more weeks. In two more weeks, he’d be home, and we’d be together. Bonus, in two weeks it was his birthday. Well, fifteen days. He was coming home on the night of April 10th, and his birthday is the 11th. Essentially, he was coming home on his birthday. Birthday sex and reunion sex at the same time? Yes, please. I stretched in my bed. It was queen sized, flanked on either side by our nightstands. It was far too big for me alone. When Oz first left, I’d tried sleeping in the middle of the bed to really spread out, but it felt wrong and made it harder to grab my phone from my nightstand. So, I slept on my side of the bed, the one further from the door to the rest of the apartment. It wasn’t just the bed that made me feel lonely. Half of Oz’s clothes were missing from the closet, and his nightstand was completely empty—he’d taken most of that stuff to Germany with him. Needing a less lonely change of scenery, I slipped out of bed, feeling the bedding slip off my naked body. I’d taken to sleeping in the nude in Oz’s absence. Hell, I might keep it up once he got home. Smiling at the thought, I took my phone into the bathroom to wait for Oz’s call. Our bathroom was far too grand for our actual needs: Oz just liked to show off his wealth. The walls and floors were covered with black marble tile, and the shower (large enough for two) had a glass sliding door that went all the way down to the floor. There was a claw-foot bathtub off to the side. I never really used it, but Oz occasionally liked to take baths. The mirror was gigantic. It started about hip-high and went all the way to the ceiling. Oz and I each had our own sinks, so the mirror ran almost the length of one whole wall. I don’t fully understand why Oz wanted such a big mirror, but I couldn’t argue with how sleek it looked. After I relieved myself, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I was definitely something to behold. In Oz’s absence, I had a lot of free time, so I’d hit the gym hard. Hard. I’d been fit and athletic since high school, a swimmer’s build, and Oz made no secret of loving my muscle. I was in my 30s now, and the thirties hit everyone. In the six months I’d been redoubling my workouts, I burned off some flab and packed on some muscle, transforming from my less-than-prime 165 into an impressive 170. I wasn’t a fitness model, or anything, but I was getting there. I definitely had pecs and a respectable start at recapturing my six-pack. My arms were thicker with muscle than they’d ever been in my life. At 6’2” with deep brown eyes and a finely-coiffed head of chestnut hair, I was definitely a looker. Just as I was really getting into myself, the phone rang. I knew it was Oz without even looking at the caller. “Good morning, Ian” Oz cooed into my air. “Good afternoon, Oz” I returned. “Did I wake you up?” he asked. “Nonsense. I’ve been up for half an hour waiting for you, like a teenage girl in a 1950s teen romance movie.” “Staring at the phone with hearts in your eyes?” Oz chuckled. I could hear his smile over the phone. Oz’s smile was his greatest feature. It was warm and inviting, kind and generous. And it came so easily and naturally to his face. “Actually,” I said, turning to the side to stretch my torso and flex my arm, “I was admiring your birthday present.” “Can’t wait to unwrap it.” I egged him on. “You won’t last five minutes before popping.” Oz playfully responded, “Careful. I’m an old man now.” “Old man nothing,” I dismissed with a puff of air. “Fifty is nothing. Prime of your life.” “You’d be surprised how much gray is in my hair now.” “I bet it looks sexy. Send me a picture.” Oz laughed darkly, adding, “I don’t do dick pics.” It was my turn to laugh. It was true. Oz hated dick pics. We had private pictures and videos of ourselves, but it stayed squarely at home. I’d actually sent him a dick pic on New Year’s because I’d been particularly lonely and horny, and he asked me to never do that again. “Well,” I joked, “since I only married you for the youthful hue of your pubic hair, you’ll just have to dye it.” It felt like he was right there in the bathroom with me. I could swear I could see him in the mirror: a robust 6’5”, a big bear of a man—30ish pounds more than me—barrel chest covered with thick fur, a round, manly face with kind blue eyes, that ear-to-ear smile, and a thick salt-and-pepper beard, so thick he trimmed it twice a week. Oz yawned. “Don’t tell me I bore you now,” I said, pretending to be offended. I strolled back into our bedroom, turning out the light in the bathroom as I passed. I flopped down on the bed to get comfortable. “I had an early morning meeting, and it’s already been a long day at work. I’m holding them to the April 9th deadline. It’s meant some late nights. I don’t really know how I’m going to make it through the rest of today.” “You’re eating at least, right?” I asked, concerned. If I didn’t cook for him, he wouldn’t eat until he was ravenously hungry, and then he’d go right to the nearest fast food joint. “Yes, dear. Three squares, every day, and I always finish my greens.” “Good. Find some time to take a nap. You’re the boss. You can do that.” “A nap? That’s your solution? You must think I’m a geezer after all,” he responded lightheartedly. “You know who took naps? Kennedy. Einstein. DaVinci.” “Not making me feel much younger.” “Okay, fine. Chris Hemsworth.” Oz laughed. “Well, if Thor naps.” I know he was thousands of miles away, but I felt him right next to me. Dropping the sarcasm, he added, “What about you? How have you been occupying yourself?” “Well…” I said, stroking my chest, enjoying the way there was something substantial there to grab hold of. “I don’t just mean the gym, Ian. Promise me you’ve been having some fun without me.” “Of course, I have. Alexander and I hung out twice last week.” “Oh good.” Oz sounded relieved. “And Mo is coming this weekend.” Oz’s tone turned flat. “And how is your brother?” “I don’t know yet. He’s not coming until tomorrow.” “How long is he staying?” Mo was not my husband’s favorite person. “Don’t worry. He’ll be gone before you get back.” There was a knock at my door. “Who could that be?” I asked. “Don’t they know you’re flirting with your husband?” I put on my robe, loosely tied it, and walked to the door, taking the phone with me. When I peeked through the peephole, I saw Mo staring back at me, his eye as close to the peephole as he could manage. “Speak of the devil.” “Tell Cayden hi,” Oz said through a sigh of reluctant acceptance. Only I called my brother Mo. I opened the door for Mo, and pointed to the phone so he would know to wait. Instead, leaving his luggage in the hall, he grabbed the phone from my hand and put it to his ear. “Guten Morgen, Austin. Genießt du Deutschland?” Mo nodded as Oz talked to him. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, and Mo’s face didn’t betray anything. If I knew my husband well enough, he was reminding Mo, as patiently as he could, that he hated being called by his full first name. Mo pulled the phone away from his ear and put his lips right up to the screen. “That’s fascinating, but I am going to hang up now. Kisses and love and whatever else you two say for goodbye.” He hung up the phone and tossed it to the couch. “Asshole!” I said, play-punching his arm. “Is that any way to great your baby brother?” “Oz and I only talk twice a week on the phone, and you hung up on him.” “Yeah, yeah, but I’m right here in the flesh and blood and Austin’s all the way in Germany.” He turned on his heels, dragged his luggage into the living room, and closed the door behind him. “No one calls him Austin,” I reminded him. “I do. Because it irks hm so.” Mo smiled mischievously. “Now, let’s try this again. Hello, Eenie.” “Hello, Mo,” I said, surrendering to the hurricane of my brother’s presence. Mo grabbed me in a too-tight hug, and danced back and forth with me. When the hug ended, he remarked, “Someone’s been working out.” “Look who’s talking,” I said, pointing to him. Mo might be my little brother, but he’s always been the bigger brother. We had the same eyes and hair, we definitely looked like brothers, but Mo got all the good stuff. Taller than me, more muscular. The few times we sparred over a guy, Mo got him. That unfortunate history is how I learned my brother is hung bigger than me too. To add insult to injury, he had a bigger brain than me too. He went to college on scholarship, law school paid him to get his degree. He’d spent the last six years at some fancy law school to become internationally licensed—he hadn’t paid one cent—followed by a lucrative internship that had just now ended. If I hadn’t married Oz, I’d still be buried in student loans. It was all a little infuriating. “You’ve gotten pretty buff there,” I complimented him. Mo tensed his pecs so they tightened the front of his shirt. “True, but I’ve always been buff. You’ve gotten bigger, too, brother. Any reason for adding the man mass?” “Oz’s 50th.” “Sweet. Is the old man having a hard time getting it up?” “He’s not an old man.” “He’s fifteen years older than you.” Mo chuckled, acting as though my position was indefensibly ridiculous. “You couldn’t legally drink at the wedding. He’s a cradle robber, and you were his child bride.” I folded my arms and stared at Mo. “If you plan on spending the whole weekend insulting my husband, you can just go now.” “Fine, I’ll play nice.” Mo crumpled into himself, exaggerating how difficult it was to not make fun of Oz. “Give me the grand tour?” he said. “This is the living room. Feel free to sit in any of the furniture, but I do love that armchair,” I said, pointing at it. “The guest room you’ll be staying in is over there. It has its own bathroom. That’s the door to Oz and my room. We have the better bathroom. Dining room,” I pointed, “kitchen,” I pointed. “Feel free to take whatever. If you want something we don’t have, there’s a grocery store a few blocks away.” I pointed to the last door. “Oz’s office that I never have any use for.” “Pretty snazzy for an apartment.” “It’s technically a condo—we own it—but we call it an apartment. ‘Condo’ feels so…” “Yuppie?” Mo responded, crashing on the couch, barely missing the phone he’d cavalierly tossed earlier. “Exactly,” I said, sitting in my armchair. “So, what are our plans for the day?” Mo asked. “Well, my plans involve going to work. You can do whatever you want.” “Can’t you play hooky?” “I have to prep for a really important lunch meeting with Vernon Bailey.” Mo stared at me expectantly. “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” “The Vernon Bailey? Of the Bailey group? Famous rich guy? Grandson of even more famous rich guy?” Mo blinked, then shrugged. “I’ve been out of the country for a while.” “He’s our biggest investor,” I explained. “The meeting isn’t until Wednesday, but there’s a thousand small details to take care of.” “Wednesday? You have an important meeting on April Fools’ Day?” “The coincidence is not lost on me. The man himself is a cruel prank. He keeps trying to get me to leave Oz and run off with him.” “I like him already.” “If he didn’t insist on dealing with me and me alone, I’d never see him again.” “What? Is he ugly?” “No, he’s gorgeous.” “Gorgeous, rich, and he wants to steal you from Austin? What’s the problem?” “That I’m married and won’t cheat on my husband.” “That’s right,” Mo said, pointing at me accusatorily. “You’re the boring brother.” “And you’re the asshole brother,” I countered. “Well, if you don’t want this Mr. Vernon Bailey, swing him my way.” “If you’re up for it, I just may.” I would never have admitted this out loud to my brother, but if I wasn’t with Oz, I would’ve jumped Vernon’s bones the day we met. “You might just be able get him off my back.” “Thank you,” Mo said with a note of genuine gratitude. “If that’s all you have to do today, do it from home.” “I have half a dozen little things to do, too.” “Oh, come on. Your brother’s in town!” It was my turn to shrug. “You’re the one who showed up a day early without so much as a phone call, thank you very much. You should be thankful the guest room is already made up and waiting.” Mo pouted. It was an over-the-top, puppy dog pout, but it worked. “Alright,” I kowtowed. “Work’s kinda light right now. If you let me go in for the morning and put things in order, I will duck out early.” Mo jumped from the couch and began tickling me. “That’s my big brother. Yes.” Through my laughter, I managed to get ahold of Mo’s hands. “We will hang out after work. After.” I got up, grabbed my phone, and began heading to my bedroom. “Spend the morning deciding what you want to do with the rest of the day.” “The Todd Brothers are going to hit the town!” I had to roll my eyes. I’d taken Oz’s last name; he was trying to get my goat. When I got to the bedroom door, my phone rang. Without looking, I answered it. “Now, Oz, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” I asked.
  43. 10 points
    PART TWO You can hardly remember what happened... The fluid. The violent pulses of gamma radiation. The pheromones being pumped into your lungs. The feeling of every muscle shredding in your body... Bulging... Rebuilding... Bigger... Stronger... More powerful with each convulsion. The incredible throbbing in your cock. The heat in your sack. A storm needing release. It's not that you feel any dumber. It's just that you can't think of anything but one thing. Fucking. You need to fuck. NOW. You try to reach your foot long rod with you monster arms to jerk it, but it's no use. You're way to fucking big. "UGH!" you cry in agony. Unable to get what you want or properly communicate through the heat, you take your ape fists and beat your massive chest ferociously. You are surprised at just how hard your pecs have become. Not only is it impossible to see down past them anymore, but rather than giving into the force of your fists, it feels more like beating two unloving boulders. There's just no give anymore. Their weight is incredible. It feels like real work for your slab of a back to keep them hoisted upwards and out. Through the heat you see Alpha-78, now out of his chamber, being measured and examined by the scientists. He stands so resolute in his steel skin that he might as well be a statue. He turns without even being commanded to, as if knowing what needs to be done and when. What did they do to him? What will become of me? You manage to think this for a split second before being dragged back into a state of incomprehensible horniness. "FUCK! FUCK! ME WANT FUCK!" you scream, and through the glass you notice people were able to hear. As the radiation dies down and your hyper-bulking ceases, you begin slowly emitting an unstoppable stream of pre-cum no longer able to be contained by your sack. You hear the familiar announcement. "METABOLIC TRANSFORMATION COMPLETE. INITIATING TRAINING." As the red grid begins scanning your body, your heart begins to race. The fear is enough to make you forget momentarily about how badly you want to cum. You know what's next. What will be left of you after this? As the red grid reaches your face Alpha-78 turns his chiseled face towards yours, as if aware of your condition. As he locks eyes with you his stoic face commands you to relax. Relax. It'll be over soon. The glowing red of his eyes (or is it the grid?) blinds you, and suddenly all you see is a bright, unending sea of red... "OBEY." From the red steps forward what can only be described as a golden god – a massive soldier, ass naked, with twice the height and twice the bulk as Alpha-78. His pecs are incredible – jutting out far and wide, commanding obedience. His arms hang down, propelled outward by his lat wings. A roided-out six pack runs down to an impossible large cock. As he steps closer you see that it's... moving... throbbing... ready to give. Who you? you manage to think through your heat. The golden beast responds. I am KRATOS. I am the alpha artificial intelligence constructed to command all TANKs. You're body has been properly formatted, but you lack control. You will now be made whole. You beat your pecs and thrust your rock hard cock forward and back. Me no want speech! Me want to fuck! Kratos maintains the unflinching face of a soldier. He steps forward, extends and arm, grabs your rod, and squeezes – hard. It hurts. You grimace in pain. Kratos' grip tightens even more. You will be assimilated and made whole. But first, OBEY! You watch the blood pump down the veins of his golden forearm, easily three times the size of a body builder's bicep, as he tightens his grip further. Finally, you can't stand it anymore. "I obey! I good boy!" His grip releases. You feel your entire body relax as you submit to the procedure. Kratos turns you around. With one hand he begins caressing your tortured cock. Feels good – real nice. With the other he holds you in place. Suddenly you feel his throbbing cock against your bare ass. "You will be made complete." "I will be complete." You feel Kratos begin thrusting. It gets harder – faster. With it, so does his strong grip on your cock. You feel your balls swell and a fire is lit in your rod. Meanwhile, in their transformation chamber, you can feel something being added to the oxygen you are breathing through a mask. What this? What the fuck! Uhmm – feels good – FUCK! What the FUCK you doing to me!? Kratos responds. Nanobots are being administered to your bloodstream. They will provide a circuit for you to control your new form by synthesizing with your muscle fibers – it is impossible for a normal human nervous system to do it alone. But they serve another purpose – networking. You are being linked to all other TANKs, and me. No! Me want out! Get me out! You feel the nanobots fill your bloodstream and make their way to every last muscle fiber. You suddenly feel... connected... to your body. You feel like you can control yourself again. You flex your biceps – they pulse full of streams of raw testosterone. You even find you can bounce your pecs. You bounce the slabs of meat three times, then three more times individually, enjoying your new power. As the nanobots cover your spine and mind, in the redness you see Alpha-78 appear in silver. You stare in awe as Kratos fucks you. Alpha-78 is resolute, unflinching, gazing at you in indifference. He stands tall, propelling every bulging piece of mass on his body with pride. His cock sticks straight out, just like his steel nips. You want to be him. Suddenly you see others step forward – there are more soldiers who, like you, have been transformed far beyond the capabilities of normal men. Like Alpha-78 they stand at the ready, watching your assimilation. "You are a TANK." The soldiers beat their chest with one strong fist in unison. WE ARE TANKS!!! You feel your blood fill with copious amounts of testosterone. "I am... TANK." you mutter, and Kratos responds by caressing your hungry cock even harder. You feel his massive frame against your back – golden sweat dripping onto you. "You will serve the military perfectly!" The soldiers spread their tree trunk sized legs, standing at the ready. You want to join them. You NEED to join them. "I will serve the military perfectly!" "You will do justice for your country." We obey and serve! "I will obey and serve!" "What is your name?" Soldier Beta-78! "SOLDIER BETA-78!" "What are you?" TANK! "TANK!" "What is your purpose?" "To obey and serve, SIR!" "COMMENCING ARMOR SYNTHESIS. STAND AT THE READY." Suddenly the soldiers being beating their chests with both of their ape-fists in unison while chanting like a frat. TANK! TANK! TANK! TANK! Kratos' thrusting becomes rapid. His grip tightens. You lose yourself in ecstasy among the tribal chants – all in the deepest baritone voices you've ever heard. Your own baritone voice joins in. "SIR. YES. SIR!" TANK! TANK! TANK! TANK! You feel the nanobots link your mind and body fully to the machine. You feel Kratos cum. You feel an eruption readying in your engorged sack. It rips up your rock-hard rod, and you grimace in agony at the fiery intensity of the radioactive fluid being pumped through your new body's piece. The soldiers, Kratos, and redness all dissolve at once. Like a shotgun it all travels to the point of exit with incredible speed. Feels good to be a man – a soldier – a TANK! You get one last gasp of nano-bot infused oxygen in before the final release...
  44. 9 points
    Chapter 16 Around midnight, Alexander gathered his things and left. Now that it was just Mo and me in the apartment, I knocked on the door to the guest room. “Back so soon, lover?” Mo called through the door. “It’s me, Mo,” I responded. “Let me get dressed, and then you can come on in.” A minute later, the door opened, and I went into the guest room. “Have fun?” “Alexander is a sweetie. If I were in town for longer, I could see myself dating that lovely little man.” I sat on the foot of the bed. Mo joined me. “He told me what you two talked about at lunch yesterday.” “You’ll have to be more specific. We talked about a million things yesterday. I was trying to get all the office gossip. And he is the fount of all tea.” “He told me that you hate Oz.” Mo looked confused. “You knew that already. Yeah, I lied about it. Because I’m polite. But, you had to know.” “He told me that you wanted me to get a divorce and would help me cheat on Oz. And now I find myself under a spell that will likely result in both of those two things. And my brother can do magic.” “Barely,” he said. “I am barely magical.” “I only have your word for that.” “Come on, Eenie. If I were good at it, I’d brag about it. I’d rub it in your face.” That did sound like Mo. “And think about it. If I was trying to get you to cheat on Austin, why would I explain to you the spell? Why would I warn you about all the consequences of cheating on him? Hell, why would I even have a spell on you at all? And why would I make your coworkers blind to it? And do you really think I’d cast a spell to make you bigger and hotter than me? With my ego?” These were all good points. I felt a little foolish for suspecting him. But it didn’t answer all my questions. I asked, “Then why did you tell him all that stuff about hating Oz and getting me to cheat on him?” “Gossip is like head. You don’t get any until you give a little.” “So, it’s not true, then?” “I would’ve said anything to get Alexander to spill. Hell, I told him I’m terrified of flightless birds.” I tilted my head inquisitively. That was Mo’s most embarrassing fear. “They’re dinosaurs, Eenie. I’m allowed to be scared of dinosaurs,” Mo said. “You’re scared of flightless birds. That’s true. You hate Oz. That’s also true. I’m guessing it’s all true. You wish I’d divorce Oz and you’d help me cheat on him.” Mo didn’t want to answer that. “Tell me, or I kick you out,” I said flatly. Mo looked me square and the eyes and admitted, “I wish you’d never married him.” On some level, I’d always known it. But hearing it out loud hurt. That was a knife to the chest. Mo continued. “You were my gay Sherpa. You helped me come out to mom and dad, you snuck me in to my first gay club, you got me condoms and lube, you took me out for breakfast when I popped my cherry.” “How did me marrying Oz change any of that?” “We were the Todd Brothers!” Mo seethed, shaking his hands in front of him for emphasis. “Two hot gay brothers? We were legendary. Doors opened for us. Lesser homos bowed down.” “That’s not how I remember it,” I shared. “It was such a short window,” Mo said. “I came out when I was 16 and you were 18. You started dating Austin when you were 19. That’s one year. That’s one year we got to be the Todd Brothers. We never even legally went to a bar together, Eenie.” “Yeah, we have.” “After you became a boring married woman. That’s entirely different.” “You wanted me to be your wingman? Is that what his is?” “You’re not even a Todd anymore,” Mo said. “You’re Ian Myers. Austin owns you. He bought you when you were twenty, and you don’t even know it.” “Oz loves me. I’m sorry if you can’t see it, but Oz loves me.” “He loves you so much he paid someone to put a malediction on you.” “We don’t know that for certain.” “I admit some weird stuff is going down at your office, but I’m just following every dead end so you’ll accept the truth when I prove it’s Austin.” “If you don’t trust him, why not search his office?” I said, pointing to the door. “I’ve already done that. Three times. Anything incriminating is likely with him in Germany.” “How do I know you’re not framing Oz?” “If I were going to put a malediction on you,” Mo confessed, “you’d have left him. This malediction makes him leave you. I wouldn’t give him that power. He has too fucking much already.” That was enough. I was convinced it wasn’t Mo. Some whispering corner of my thoughts might continue to suspect him until I knew who actually did it, but in a more visceral way, he had convinced me of his innocence. My goal became to convince him of Oz’s. “You’ve barely spent any time with Oz.” I looked at the clock. “It’s 6:30 AM in Germany. He’ll just be getting up.” I handed Mo my phone. “Call him. Ask him whatever you have to ask him to prove he’s guilty or clear his name.” I left him alone in his room and began surfing my laptop in the living room. Twenty minutes later, Mo came out and handed me my phone. “I don’t think it’s Oz anymore,” he said. He just called my husband Oz. “No?” “No. I never came right out and accused him, but I laid a trap, and he avoided it. He’s either an evil genius or completely innocent.” “And you don’t think he’s an evil genius.” “He loves you. He really loves you.” “Aww,” I blushed. “He invited me to the birthday party Vinnie’s throwing him. He wants us to start over.” I threw my arms around Mo and held him tight. Breaking the embrace, Mo said, “Which means our number one suspect is now Vernon Bailey, and you have a lunch meeting with him at a hotel tomorrow.” That brought me right back to reality.
  45. 9 points
    "Maybe this will help you decide if I'm worth the amount I quoted."
  46. 9 points
    Progress pic, with added leather.
  47. 9 points
    Chapter 8 I didn’t leave the apartment that weekend for fear of touching a stranger. I was especially worried that my gym, a local gay cathedral, would be crawling with people begging to take me to the steam room. On top of that, I barely texted with Oz, afraid he’d say something innocent that I’d take completely out of context. It seems like I spent my weekend alternating between masturbating and worrying. All the masturbating didn’t even take the edge off. Some part of my mind knew that if I could just sink my cock balls deep into someone, the need would go away. Mo reassured me that was the spell talking. Suffice it to say, by the time Monday morning came, my balls were full and heavy, even heavier than I’d ever experienced. I woke up that morning with the stiffest of morning wood—it made getting ready for work all the more cumbersome. And, of course, because I had all of this new facial hair to contend with, shaving took more time than I was used to allotting it. And then, when I finished shaving, my beard shadow was still noticeable. If it was on someone else, I’d probably think it was hot. But it was one me, so it was just a mild frustration. Getting dressed was fun, though. I was initially drawn to my favorite blue button-down. I always looked hot in that. But, when I put it on, it showed off every muscle on my body, and if I flexed too hard, I’d break the shirt. So, I put my favorite shirt aside. Because I’d been working out like a fiend for months, I’d already ordered some bigger work clothes weeks ago, but they hadn’t come in the mail yet. I could’ve also borrowed some of Mo’s clothes—we were the same size now—but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. So, I chose a non-descript white button-down and slate gray slacks. When you have ten extra pounds of muscle, a paper bag would look hot. The shirt was just a little too small, but it would get me through the day. I got a real thrill out of using one notch lower on my belt. I wasn’t quite hairy enough to have my chest hair visible through my dress shirt, but in the confines of the shirt, I could feel it pressed down against my skin, and it felt like I had this dirty little secret I was hiding from everyone. This was a larger shirt and pants, so I wasn’t squeezed into my outfit as I’d been on Friday. At the same time, I’d never filled out an outfit better in my life. There were some upsides to this craziness after all. I made coffee at home. The vision of Oliver was too real to risk going back to the coffee shop. Of course, I’d gotten so reliant on buying my coffee it took me a good five minutes to even find the coffee maker. Going straight to work was going to skim off some time, though, so at least I wasn’t going to be late. Not I—we. Mo was coming to work with me. Mo was dressed far too nicely for our office: double breasted navy suit, light blue tie, highly polished shoes. I tried to tell him we weren’t that fancy of an office building, but he didn’t care. “Before I take you to see Mr. Carr,” I explained to Mo, “I have to stop by Alexander and Garrett’s cubicle. Garrett covered for me on Friday afternoon, so I need to check in to make sure nothing major happened.” “Goody. I get to meet Alexander, a vicious office gossip, and Garrett, the one you think is a sinister spellcaster,” Mo said with a gothic melody in his voice. I pushed Mo to the side and kept walking. Alexander was in his cubicle drinking a cup of coffee and scrolling mindlessly through his phone, but Garrett was not there. “Where’s Garrett?” I asked. Alexander dropped his phone and looked up. “I’m not on the clock yet. I can be on my phone if I want to.” “Relax, Alexander. It’s me.” Relieved, Alexander put his phone in his top desk drawer and smiled. “Sorry. Right. Good morning.” “Good morning,” I replied. “How was your weekend?” “Fine. Yours?” “Uneventful,” he said. “Although those witches in research and development did get me to come to their potluck. You should hear what they had to say about the janitor. Whoo-boy! I am so glad I use the men’s restrooms.” When I didn’t ask for more details, he added, “Did you want something?” “Garrett,” I reminded him. “Where is he?” Alexander shrugged as Mo slid up behind me. “Hello, there,” Mo said. “Are you Garrett?” “I’m Alexander. Alexander Walker.” “Eenie’s friend!” Mo extended his hand over the cubicle wall to shake Alexander’s hand. “He’s talked about you. Nice to meet you, I’m Cayden Todd.” “My brother,” I added. Shaking Mo’s hand, Alexander turned to me and said, “I thought your brother’s name was Mo.” “It’s a nickname,” I admitted. Taking his hand back, Alexander asked Mo, “How do you get from Cayden to Mo?” “You don’t,” Mo said. “Ever since Ian and I were kids, I’ve called him Eenie.” “And I hated it when I was a kid,” I added, “so I’d call him Meanie.” Mo continued, “But he’s my Eenie, so I’d say ‘my Eenie,’ which I slurred into ‘Miney.’” “So, I had to say ‘Mo.’” “Eventually, he just started calling me Mo. It stuck.” Whispering, Mo added, “And when I came out of the closet in high school, it took on a delicious second meaning.” “You’re both gay?” Alexander asked. “Our parents raised us right,” Mo said. Not sure whether to laugh, Alexander replied, “So, should I call you Cayden or Mo?” “Only Eenie calls me Mo. Cayden will do nicely.” After a slight pause, Mo rested his elbow on the top of the cubicle wall and his head on his fist, then asked, “Would you like to have lunch with me today? You are adorable.” Alexander blushed. “How’d you know I’m gay?” Without a jot of irony or cruelty, Mo stood up tall and responded, “Because you introduced yourself as Alexander and not Alex.” Alexander laughed. “In all honesty,” Mo said, “Eenie’s told me about you. That’s how I know you’re gay. However, he never told me you were the cutest little cherub.” “Lunch sounds lovely,” Alexander said. As Mo and Alexander finished making lunch plans, Garrett showed up. “Who’s this overdressed peacock?” As Garrett was used to being the best dressed person in the office, I guess he saw Mo’s suit as a threat. “My brother,” I said. “Cayden Todd,” Mo said, giving Garrett a half-salute. “Charmed,” Garrett said, biting with sarcasm. “Any news from Friday?” I asked. “It was smooth sailing,” Garrett said. “I doubt Mr. Carr even noticed.” With that, Garrett sat down and started working. I pulled Mo away from the cubicle and dragged him to the stairwell. Once the door closed behind us, I turned around and asked, “Well?” “Well what?” “Is Garrett a caster?” “How on Earth would I know that? I saw him for three seconds.” “You could smell the spell all over me.” “I can detect spells, not casters. I’m not a bloodhound.” “I don’t know the rules,” I reminded him. “Clearly,” Mo said. “Besides, I was more interested in Alexander.” I laid into Mo, shout-whispering, “What’s with hitting on him? You’re here to find evidence, not have leisurely lunches.” Mo smiled wanly. “How do you suppose I do that? Get a magnifying glass? Call up CSI?” “I don’t follow,” I admitted. “Alexander loves gossip. He’ll know all the office dirt, especially the stuff people say behind your back that he’s too kind to say to your face.” “Oh. That actually makes sense.” Mo continued, “The fact that he’s an absolute snack I wouldn’t mind having after lunch is a bonus.” I narrowed my eyes. “Tread lightly there.” “Sir, yes sir,” Mo said. Like the ham he is, Mo marched behind me the rest of the way to Mr. Carr’s office. Mr. Carr’s door was open, so I peeked in. He was using Mr. Tyler’s office on the tenth floor, but Mr. Carr had completely marked it as his territory. Most noticeably, his large, imposing desk was littered with pictures. One was of two small children I could only assume were his children or grandchildren. One was the wedding photo of a skinny, red-headed man and beaming brunette woman. I assumed it was his son or little brother. There was a rather large photograph of Mr. Carr and his wife, the standard-issue trophy wife who looked like Barbie. There was even a photo of his dogs: a black Labrador and a German shepherd. But there were other touches too, such as a small red coffee maker. Mr. Tyler would get his assistant to fetch his coffee. I guess Mr. Carr preferred making his own. Mr. Carr had also swapped out the standard executive chair with one wide enough to seat him comfortably. I assume it was custom-made. Even sitting down, he was a wide, intimidating man. Steeling myself, I knocked while stepping in. “Am I disturbing you?” Without looking up, he growled, “Depends. If it’s important, y’ain’t disturbing nothing. If it’s something stupid, tell it to the coffee maker.” “I’m Ian Myers, Marketing Liaison Manager. Do we have any work in the legal department? Even just temp work?” Mr. Carr looked me square in the eyes. His eyes were frighteningly blue. It was odd to see something so beautiful in the middle of something so gruff. “So, Mr. Ian Myers. You heard?” I nodded, pretending I had. “Hugo’s been keeping this dog and pony show criminally understaffed with a revolving door of temps and unpaid interns. It’s mostly in the low-level, low-responsibility places like the mailroom. Sure as hell not the legal department. I don’t know if you two had some sort of arrangement, but I find the whole practice a shitshow. It’s a half-assed, shortcut way to not offer people full-time employment and benefits. If I find out you were in on this…” Mo stepped into the room and interrupted Mr. Carr. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Cayden Todd. Here’s my resume.” Mr. Carr took the resume, but didn’t look at it. “I’m actually too qualified to work here. I’m certified to practice law on six continents. And if they come up with an accreditation plan, I will practice law in Antarctica too. Ian here is my dear brother. He heard about this temp scam and asked me to put a stop to it without inflicting legal consequences on the company.” I hate how quickly Mo can lie. Mr. Carr looked dubious, but a quick glance at Mo’s resume impressed him. “Mr. Todd, you’d be willing to look into this matter for the peanuts we’d be able to pay you?” “What can I say? I’m on vacation, and this sounded like a blast.” That was less than convincing. “You’d spend your vacation at the Boston branch of a multinational conglomerate?” Mo shrugged. “Some people golf.” Mr. Carr laughed. “Very well. Have Mr. Myers take you down to HR and get you access to the employee files and anything else you need.” Mo bowed obsequiously and left the office. Before I could follow him out, Mr. Carr cleared his throat. I turned to look at Mr. Carr, and he said, “Good instinct, Mr. Myers.” “Thank you, Mr. Carr.” “I’ll be keeping my eye on you.” I left the office as quickly as I could. In the elevator on our way to the HR office on the ground floor, Mo blurted, “He was butch. Deliciously so. Enough to make you forgive his taste in office furniture and picture frames.” “He’s the CEO.” “What’s the CEO doing slumming it in the Boston branch? Shouldn’t he be in New York or LA?” “He showed up on Friday. He’s in town on business, covering for Mr. Tyler, the sick branch manager.” “Curiouser and curiouser.” “What?” I asked. Mo stopped the elevator. “The day someone cast a spell on you, a spell none of your coworkers can see, your boss goes missing.” “You think Mr. Carr has something to do with this?” “No,” Mo said, restarting the elevator. “I think Mr. Tyler does.” I stood flabbergasted. Mo continued. “It’s a good thing I have access to employee hiring records and a lunch date with an office gossip.” The elevator doors opened, and Mo stepped off. “Bye bye, Eenie. Have fun liaising the marketing department, or whatever it is you do.” The doors closed, and I was alone in the elevator.
  48. 9 points
    Adventure Number Six “Ow! Fuck! Fuck!!!” I woke up with a smile on my face. I was lying on my stomach and loved hearing stifled yelps of pain as the bed jolted up and down every minute or so. I was hugging a pillow at my side and a huge mass hovered above me. The bed bounced up and down, again, as there was another muffled expletive. If I was a person that felt pain, I’m sure the fireplug that was slamming into my ass would have hurt – but, it ended up just being something good for a laugh. Jamal had his humongous legs on either side of my body and was propping his enormous upper torso up with one arm. His other hand was wrapped around – only partially because of the size – his cock and he had the tip of his log between my ass cheeks. He was trying to shove his big tool into my hole, but – even in my sleep – my body was too powerful for even this monster of a guy to penetrate. I got the feeling he had been trying for a long time and I hadn’t even noticed. I felt sweat droplets falling on my back – some of my boy’s sweetness soaking into me. It was like trying to shove something as weak as a toothpick into the side of a huge solid boulder. My ass would not yield to his battering ram until I said it would – even in my sleep. I let him try a few more times – enjoying the hell out of his cries of pain and feeble attempts. “Fuck, nothing’s that powerful!” I heard the frustration in his voice and it was lovely. Big Jamal was finding his power had limits and he didn’t like it. In the past, he had fucked anything he pleased. Now, this dweeb beneath him . . . this dweeb of a MAN, no less . . . was preventing Jamal’s world-renowned cock from doing what it pleased. He thought there couldn’t be a hole this impenetrable – it just didn’t make sense. My big bitch-boy still thought he was the alpha. He dwarfed me in every way! His cock made mine look like a twig. His fingers were five times as thick as mine and twice the length. When you compared our bodies, we looked like a Ken doll set up beside the real Incredible Hulk. Jamal just knew he should be a thousand times more powerful than me. And yet, his trusted tool – the giant pecker of torture – could not burst through my hole no matter how hard he pounded. I had never felt so invincible. The giant thrust again and this time I squeezed my cheeks – clamping against his cock with such a hold that he’d never be able to pull free. I knew it was also a grip that would cause a lot of pain. “Yeowwwww!!!!” “Jamal, baby, you just don’t get it, do you? You have no power, here, unless I say you do. I know you’re used to being the most powerful thing around, but it’s time for you to learn a valuable lesson in humility. You’ve met something much stronger. You’ve met someone much more powerful thank you. See, if I just squeeze my ass a little tighter I bet I can get you to scream ‘uncle.’” “Uncle! Fucking uncle! God please, uncle!” I released his cock from my ass’ vice-grip and spun around on the bed. I quickly grabbed the base of his still-hard cock – damn, he loved my power – and placed a hand against his still-tensed and sweaty chest. I easily pushed him into the air – his humongous body weighing nothing to me. Even though his cock was still in a lot of pain, his face went to pleased shock as I started pushing him up and down – perfect chest presses with my Jamal-bar. His cock somehow stiffened even more as I did numerous reps with his body. “Thought you’d fuck my super powerful fortress of solitude without my consent didn’t you, big man? Don’t worry, that day will come. I can’t wait to allow that colossal tool into my powerful chute, but it’s only going to happen when I say so. I’m not just a power bottom, Jamal. I’m the strongest, most forceful, fiercest, and sturdiest bottom you’ll ever find. When I finally let you pound my ass you’re going to forget every woman you ever fucked. You’ll be my total bitch boy then, oh mighty one. You’ll be creaming in your pants just thinking about entering my super tight, crushing machine. I’ll be the kind of fuck you’ve always fantasized about, dude. But it’s not time for that, yet. We have an entire day of fun ahead of us. I’m going to make you bust so many wads today, Jamal that I’ll have to carry you home because you’ll be too weak to walk. And you know I can easily carry your humongous body! Can you imagine the look on people’s faces when they see the powerful Jamal being baby-carried back to his dorm by this little man?” That thought brought a mixture of feelings to the muscular man. He couldn’t begin to fathom people on campus seeing someone more powerful than him. And he didn’t want it to be such a dweeb doing it. But at the same time, my power made him weak in the knees and light headed. He was a dominant alpha that secretly longed to be dethroned – just to see what weakness felt like. He got a glance of it as he felt his body easily going up and down in the air for what must have been the eighty-something time. He couldn’t comprehend how a man could bench over four-hundred pounds so easily and without even showing a speck of strain, but at the same time it turned him on so much. He now longed to be dominated by me. He didn’t fully understand why and his macho, this-is-how-a-man-acts concept of the world caused some inner turmoil – but his need for me to show my strength and to, hopefully, give his ass some of the pleasure it received the night before was enough for him to forego preconceived ideas and joyously embrace the role of my ginormous yes-boy. “Want me to play with your ass, Jamal, and make you feel like a real man?” “Yes sir. Please, sir.” I loved messing with his mind and making him accept his new role. I was re-educating the Neanderthal to realize that there should not be stereotypes when it came to what makes a man. He was so used to being the alpha, that following someone else – submitting to someone else – was opening entirely new worlds for him. He no longer viewed me as a dweeb. I was his alpha – his boss, now. This strong, muscular, incredibly brawny rugby player would probably grab his ankles quicker than anyone if I ordered it. Power truly had its advantages. I tossed his body into the air as if he were as light as paper and quickly scooted off the bed – letting him flop back down on it in my place. Instantly, I pressed my hands into his super wide muscular thighs – pinning him to the bed and spreading his legs at the same time. I face fucked the dude, again, causing him to moan so loud that his neighbors pounded on the walls. It made me smile knowing that the guys living on either side of Jamal thought the big rugby player was in here pounding away at two or three women he had chosen to bring home. They would have been shocked beyond imagination to find out that some little guy was shoving his forceful tongue into the huge muscle mountain and making him moan like a baby. I used even more strength from the night before – making Jamal squirm on the mattress wildly. I had a feeling he’d be walking a little strangely for the rest of the day because of the abuse, but he clearly loved every second of it. I soon felt the squeeze of his cheeks and the tightening of his hole as his log-like dick spewed its hot, juicy, thick cum between the sheet and Jamal’s rock-hard abs – as if a dam had burst and water was flowing into a waiting valley. The big man was going to be a sticky mess. I pumped my strong tongue into his ass a few more times just to get some last-minute jerks of his crotch as he completely emptied himself. My mountain of a butt-boy was now covered in sweat and purring like a pleased lion. I couldn’t wait until he was ready for two of my fingers and then finally my super cock. I would still need to keep my ejaculation soft, but I would be able to orgasm with more abandonment than ever – knowing the huge man could take more of my powerful spurts than anyone else. “Like that, Jamal?” “More than anything, sir.” “Soon you’ll be ready for my cock, boy.” “I . . . um . . . I’ve never . . .” There was the inner turmoil, again. A tongue was one thing, but having another man’s dick in his ass still seemed like something a big man like Jamal shouldn’t do. I knew that a few more rounds of rimming and he’d be looking for something more forceful. That, and seeing me show off my power for him, would be enough for him to be raising his massive, firmly rounded ass into the air begging me to fuck him. That’s also when I’d finally let him tap my super strong butt, too – showing him how a bottom could easily dominate a top. I was going to rock this big man’s world in so many ways. He definitely was not going to know what hit him. When my chute clamps down on his big rod he’s going to want to let out the biggest orgasm of his life, but he won’t be able to until I release the pressure on his cock. To control a man’s ejaculation this way was going to be one of the biggest thrills of my life. I’d have Jamal screaming for release. “Hey big boy, soon you’ll realize that man-on-man sex is the hottest thing in the world. I’m going to have you thinking and dreaming of sex with me twenty-four seven. You’ll want my dick as much as I want your muscle.” Huge Jamal had turned over now and I was lying on top of his chest and mid-section. I didn’t care about the drying cum all over him. He was like a huge muscle bed and I was teasing his cork-sized nipples with a little too much strength, judging from his sudden body jerks and moan-yells. I couldn’t tell if it hurt or if he loved it. I was sure most people pressed against the man’s hard-as-hell chest with all their might and the meat didn’t indent one bit – but my strong finger could press his bulges in and leave bruises. I didn’t push that hard, though. I could tell he was having a little trouble breathing from the weight of my densely packed body. I knew it was time to roll to his side. He propped up on his side and a mammoth biceps ballooned up as he held up his head to look down on me. “Can I slam my hand down on your abs?” “Slam away, big man, but don’t blame me for the pain.” His fist was bigger than the head of a sledgehammer. He brought it down like a gavel into my non-descript stomach. He swung with enough force to demolish a microwave – I was sure of it – but it felt like a feather floating down onto me. I didn’t even flinch. There was a loud whack and I could tell it had stung the hell out of his hand. He immediately shook out his fingers to get rid of the pain. Then, without even asking he swung a second time, even harder, but the outcome was the same. It was like he thought he could catch me off guard and do some damage. The only damage was, again, to his hand – which he shook out even more vigorously this time. I smiled up at his super masculine face – as if I were oblivious to his pounding. I felt his cock hardening against my leg – the giant man was clearly turned on by my ability to easily deflect his incredible power. “It’s just not logical. You should be a pile of broken bones. I can smash in the top of a car with blows like that!” “If it helps, Jamal, I think I felt something.” “Fuck, that’s not possible. Thump my stomach with your forefinger. Don’t hold back!” “How about my pinkie, big man. My forefinger can flick things into orbit or, at least, send you through the wall.” “Aw fuck, I may cum again! Use your pinkie, please just show me what you’ve got.” I knew I wouldn’t use the full strength of my finger. I could do some permanent damage. I’d let him think I was using a good amount of my power and leave it at that. I knew that was best. The man had a stomach that was like chiseled lead. His abs were perfectly formed and lined up as if he had been made by the gods. It was the kind of stomach that looked like he constantly did sit-ups or even more intense exercises. They screamed of power, too. His tummy looked like it could take a beating from a semi and not be damaged. The sound of my finger thumping against his tight abs smacked loudly throughout the room. Immediately, air shot out of Jamal’s mouth and his body flew off the bed a few feet and landed on the ground with a loud thud. Who knew such a huge object could fly so fast. Jamal instantly grabbed his stomach and started gasping for breath. He stared back at me as if I were some kind of freak – which I guess I was – but there was also lustful awe in his face. It took him a few minutes to regain composure. I had obviously inflicted some intense pain, but the big man wasn’t going to let on to that fact too much. He crawled back onto the bed slowly, as if he had taken a solid beating from a few tanks or something. He continued to stare at me. “You’re Superman.” “I prefer Superwimp.” “I’ve always been the most powerful man around. All of my life. I was winning wrestling matches against my dad and three brothers when I was just eleven years old. And I’d let them take me on at the same time. The called me Big J in elementary school, because I was larger than all of the other kids and most of the teachers. Trust me, I know what power is. But I’ve never ever even imagined the kind of strength your little body possesses. I can’t get enough of it.” The giant anaconda between the man’s legs was sticking straight out by the time Jamal finished speaking. He was way turned on by my power. I reached down and wrapped my forefinger and thumb partially around the base of his big cock – he was just too big down there for my little hand to wrap all the way. I squeezed hard – harder than his tool had ever been squeezed before, I’m sure – and moved slowly upward. When I got to the head I received exactly what I had desired – a big gob of his thick, manly, sweet pre-cum. I was milking the big bull like a pro. He gasped loudly as my fingers produced semen and his entire body tensed into a mass of glorious, bulging, black muscles. I was super impressed to find that the giant, Jamal, was again ready to ejaculate. Clearly, his big body produced cum faster than an entire team of horny college students. I had a feeling this colossal man could offer me spectacular orgasms throughout the day and night. I intended to find out. “Wanna get off, big man?” “Always.” “Get ready for me to rock your world, Jamal.” I slid down on the bed so my face was even with his giant, thick tool. It looked like a massive log sticking out of a thick bush. Veins bulged around the huge thing and made it look even more like a weapon of mass destruction than it already did. Damn, I couldn’t get over just how truly huge this muscleman was – it was kind of difficult to comprehend. I had dreamed of opening my jaw super wide to take in all of his massive cock for so long – and now I realized my dreams had never made his tool as big as it really was. I wasn’t dreaming big enough. I knew that my superpowers made me able to open my mouth much wider than normal men, but looking at that monstrous dickhead in real life made me a tad nervous even about my abilities. Those doubts, however, did nothing to slow me down. By this point, Jamal could tell what was about to happen and copious amounts of pre-cum continued to ooze out of the slit of his cock. I figured out quickly, that Jamal didn’t normally get blow jobs. Who on earth besides me would be able to fit his monster in their mouth. This made the task at hand even more exciting than it already was. I was about to please my big boy in a way he had never known. I knew this upcoming orgasm was going to put all of his previous spurts to shame. “What a fucking gorgeous giant cock you have, Jamal.” “I haven’t been sucked off in years. Every girl says I’m just too big. I sometimes try to ram it in, but it just won’t go” “That’s all about to change, dude.” Even with my super jaw, he was still quite a mouthful. As soon as my warm wet mouth encircled the head of his giant penis, the man let out a moan that could have wakened the dead. I had never felt muscles turn so hard as he tensed his body. I swear his dick grew even bigger once it was in my mouth. I let the big man take charge, then . . . as I knew he would. Jamal was too much of an alpha to just sit back and let me take care of him. He wanted to ram his cock and he wanted to ram it hard. On some level, he knew I could take it, but he still believed he was in charge and slamming his cock into a small man’s waiting mouth. I was just biding my time and letting him pummel my oral cavity with his huge weapon. I didn’t gag or feel a thing. I simply let him pound away. The dude’s crotch was heaving so hard I was scared he was going to throw his back out. I guess the fact that I wasn’t gagging or even squirming only made him want to abuse my mouth more. He increased his action and even slapped the side of my face a few times. It felt like a fly had landed on my cheek. And then it was my turn. The world’s best and biggest super vac had nothing on me. I could have sucked water from a stone. I was the black hole that was about to swallow the galaxy that existed in Jamal’s humongous rod. I swallowed as softly as was possible and the man moaned as if he were a rhino in heat. Then I sucked – just once, causing his moan to stop abruptly. “Arrrrrrrrrgggghhhh…” As I predicted, the big Jamal had never felt something as jolting or pleasing as a super suck from me. There would have been no way to prepare the man for what his body was about to experience. My breath could bring down a mountain. My sucking could bring in an ocean liner that was halfway across the ocean. I didn’t use all of my force – I would have made the dude’s feet come up through his body. I simply sucked in enough to make him spew like an illegally tapped New York City fire hydrant on a hot August afternoon. The blast I caused in his cock surely caused a lot of pain, but the dude couldn’t make a noise because the eruption took all of his strength, all of his focus, and caused his entire body to erupt in total orgasmic bliss. I forced the ejaculation to be one gigantic long explosion that, indeed did, rock his world. His back shot up off the mattress, his silent scream caused his mouth to be open wide, and every fucking muscle bulged as if it had been stimulated specifically by some kind of electric volt. He erupted in tensed beef and I knew it was going to feel like he had been working out for five hours straight when he finally stopped his unending steady flow of cum. I swallowed his entire manly load in one gulp as his body fell back down to the mattress and the giant passed out. “I pretty much drained you, didn’t I big guy? Don’t worry about it. You’ll be resting for a while. It’ll give me some time to worship that gorgeous mammoth body of yours.” I stood up beside the bed and looked down at the sleeping giant. Damn, he was one massive hunk of beautifulness. I bent over and scooped him into my small arms. I easily lifted him off the bed, as if he were a bride I was about to carry over the threshold. I was still a little shocked by how light such a colossal mound of muscled beef could be. I curled Jamal’s body a few times, simply because it was so easy to do. He would have gotten so hard to see me curling his naked enormity without even the slight hint of a grunt. I popped my tiny biceps upward and sent his body soaring in the air. I cupped my palms on the wide expanse of his back and the bulbous muscle of his ass. I then held him above my head, so I could stare in the mirror and marvel at how miniscule I looked compared to his huge body, but how powerful I looked easily holding him in the air. It was like a small monkey had hoisted an elephant above his head in victory. I pumped out a few reps with my Jamal-bell and really got turned on by the fact that he was as light as a feather. I slid a finger in the crack of his ass and toyed with his still-clenched asshole – even unconscious the guy knew to protect his goods. I knew I could easily force my way in, but it wasn’t time for that right now. I wanted to explore his body. I pushed him up into the air again and then caught him in my waiting arms. “Let’s get a good taste of all those muscles,” I said toward his sleeping face. The man was so huge and, yet, so light. It was a wild juxtaposition of opposites – scrawny dude holding the giant in his arms as if he weighed nothing. I turned my attention to the man’s humongous, chocolate-covered, bulging, hard-as-marble pecs. I leaned my head into the cavernous crevice between his nippled mountains. It was heaven. How could a person that was totally unconscious still be so unbelievably packed as if he were built out of stone. My face was buried in thickly layered flesh that made me feel so small and weak, even though I was like Superman. I inhaled the giant’s sweaty goodness and was overcome with an urge to swallow him whole. I settled on pulling my head back and wrapping my mouth around one of his gigantic nipples – sucking like a starving baby. I continued to hold his massive body in my arms and still marveled at how easy it was. I could taste some of his hyper masculine testosterone as I lapped up his gorgeous huge nipple. Sucking on his big manly pecs had to be one of the most joyous things in the world. For a second I contemplated what it would be like to have my super strength and be the size of Jamal. I’d be an unstoppable force that actually looked like an unstoppable force. That would be something. I’d be able to intimidate bullies by just glancing in their direction. Some guys would piss themselves just because I gave them an icy stare. Being massive definitely had its advantages. When I lifted something heavy, it would still be impressive, but I’m not sure it would shock the same way it did because I was so small. A guy as big as Jamal should be strong as hell, even if he wasn’t super strong, like me. I plopped Jamal’s still unconscious body on the bed. It was time to do some real exploring. I began in the giant pit under his massive right arm. I buried my face in the substantial fur of his stanky underarm and breathed in all of his masculine aroma. It was like I had been submerged in a big clothes hamper filled with the jockstraps of a thousand men. His big body just produced so much he-man-ness. Even un-flexed his bulging biceps was enormous and hard. It dwarfed my head by a lot. I could not really even begin to fathom what it was like to be as huge as this guy. He had to turn sideways just to walk through the door of his dorm room – he was just too wide. The big man was snoring lightly as he slept off the aftermath of his massive ejaculation. I placed my forearm next to his on the bed and it looked like a matchstick beside a giant oak. His was covered with thick veins that shouted power without him even flexing. “Damn, you are one gorgeous mound of muscled meat, Jamal,” I said out loud to no one in particular. I then ran my hand down his thick rolling-pin abs, counting eight well-defined hard bumps, which made me profusely leak some milky cum. The words cut and chiseled didn’t come close to describing what I felt. The man was a god when it came to his muscles. I bent down and licked his stomach, smacking my face hard against his tummy and getting off on the loud banging noise it made. And still, the giant slept. I paused briefly at his still hard cock. It was like a lead-filled silo sticking up majestically from his black, thick fur. I marveled at the fact that a guy could be passed out and still hard-as-hell – but then I remembered we were talking about the more-than-manly colossal Jamal and it seemed right. I tried to slide my hand between his muscle-packed super enormous thighs and loved the fact that I couldn’t penetrate them. Of course, I could have if I had wanted to – nothing he could have done could have stopped me – but casually sliding my hand in between those two humongous boulders proved impossible. I massaged the striations, the deep valleys, and the muscled strands of hard beef running all over his mammoth upper legs. The dude must squat weight equal to a city bus to get his legs so huge. The thought of Jamal having a big bus draped across his giant shoulders as he bent his legs up and down was almost too much for me to handle. “Fuck, man, your legs are as huge as the biggest sequoias, aren’t they,” I again muttered to myself. I climbed up on the muscled mountain and straddled his mid-section, being careful to put most of my weight on my own legs. I used his stiff perpendicular rod as a backrest. It was like I was a tiny Aladdin and Jamal was my bulging magic carpet. I rubbed my ass across the hard bumps of his abs and groped his pecs lightly, not wanting to cause him any pain with my super strength. I was in muscle heaven. The man of my dreams. The god-like dark beauty of the campus was my bitch-boy – almost ready for me to plow him super hard until he shot more powerfully than he had ever dreamed. Feeling his hardness on my back, his bulging massiveness under my ass, and with my hands was sending me into the kind of masculine overdrive that usually led to me punching through concrete, ripping apart metal, or lifting something enormous. I willed my super strong body to calm down and just enjoyed the muscle goodness that was now mine. I thought about the day when I would convince Jamal to kiss me in the middle of campus – showing everyone how he was whipped in control by the wimp of the campus. Sure, there would be some other extra-jealous big guys who would know the real truth – that I could defeat the black rugby giant with just my pinkie, but the rest of the campus would see the mountain cowering before the molehill. I imagined how Jamal would beg me to show off my strength to let people know why he caved to a mousey guy. I’d have to stew on whether I’d grant him that wish or not. Maybe it could be a reward for good behavior . . . yeah, maybe it would be a reward for when he packed on some more muscle. Because that’s what I really wanted. I wanted my black beauty to grow even more ginormous than he already was. I wanted him to bulge out even wider than he did already. I wanted him to be jaw-dropping immense and I wanted him to be all mine.
  49. 9 points
    #knock knock# “Hey Jesse! You in there?” Private Nicholas Angelo had arrived about 3 minutes ago to relieve Jesse and take over for the morning shift. However when he got there, the door to the storage area was locked and his key strangely didn’t work. “…Come on Jesse! Quit being an asshole! Go on break and get a bite to eat or take a nap or something!” He banged on the door repeatedly before finally pausing. “Wait… Motherfucker… Did you skip out early and just lock the place up behind you? Ugh….” He banged even harder. “Jesse! Open the damn door! If you’re not in there I am NOT covering for your lazy ass–!” Suddenly, the lock clicked and the door swung open with gentle ease… And out stepped Private Jesse Romero… Every muscled inch of his 6′5 height loomed over Nick and blocked his view of the rising sun, causing Jesse to cast a large shadow over him. “I’m right here Nick. What’re you bein’ so loud for?” He smiled… And Nick shivered lightly… Jesse never smiled. “Well why the fuck did you lock the door?! Your shift is over and you’re making mine start with a headache; just get the hell out of here.” Nick moved to pass Jesse when a meaty hand gripped his forearm. “How ‘bout you watch yer fuckin’ mouth when you talk to me Nick? I don’t take kindly to bein’ disrespected… Not anymore…” “What? Let go of me you as–aardvark!” Nick paused… Why the hell did he call him that? Jesse just smirked. “What the fudge are you smirking at you shi– …you shhhhh— “ Nick’s face screwed up in concentration before blurting out. “You shell head!” Nick clamped his hand over his mouth, eyes widening. “Much better. Now then, the reason I was stopping you is you seemed so worked up you forgot about feedin’ your little addiction before heading inside.” Nick looked at Jesse confused then looked to the pack of smokes on his belt. “I lit up on my way over, I’m good for an hour at least…” He tried to turn and pull away but the muscular hand holding his arm was like a vice. Jesse grinned sadistically. “Naw Nick… Not that…” He reached down with his free hand and gripped his own rather sizable groin. “…Feeding your addiction to my dick. You need it at least once a day remember?” Nick’s face flushed, Jesse was right… He realized his addiction during boot camp… The two of them had been bunking together and one thing led to another and… “Yeah man… I’m surprised you’re even still standing with me this close… I’ve been sweating in there all night, my cock must be sweaty as fuck…” Nick’s pupils dilated and his knees trembled, his eyes now glued to Jesse’s growing bulge, the musky scent filling his nostrils… “Yeah… I know the smell is what really does it for ya…” Jesse looked around then leaned back against some of the scattered equipment. “Why don’t you get down there and start worshiping me… It’s what you live for right?” With a slight squeak and a moan, Nick dropped to the ground. Jesse’s dark grin just widened…
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