Jump to content


  • Content Count

  • Donations

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Community Reputation

233 Excellent

About arbotimus

  • Rank
    10+ Posts


  • This profile is a...
    real profile.
  • Gender
  • Orientation

Recent Profile Visitors

2,713 profile views
  1. arbotimus

    The Bigger Man

    This was awesome, dude! Good to see you finding inspiration again.
  2. arbotimus

    The Hazing

    The idea well may have run dry on this one. But winter break is coming soon, so maybe? Stories of some kind, definitely. Thanks for the comment
  3. Previously, on The Iron Bug: Kenny, a fire-haired scrawny Oregonian kid on his way back to college, runs into an iron bug that instills him with the desire to lift heavy. He lifts, he eats, he grows, he fucks. Meanwhile Charlie, our primary antagonist who is arguably still buffer than a beefed up Kenny, manages to incapacitate our beloved hero using some unidentified black magic. Kenny, disgruntled, decides to double dip on the old magic bug bite with the two iron bugs captured by our dear friend Delilah, a scientist from some big university studying the anomalous going ons in this little town. We join our hero as he begins his glorious transformation amongst his bedsheets. Pardon the cheese, I am very tired : P
  4. Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the plot-heavy one. Feel free to skip through at your leisure if that is not your jam. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V -- The Well We have lingered in the chambers of sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown. - T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" The clouds were painted flat and grey against the sky, leaving a muddy warmth in their wake. The pale morning light that made it through lent a calm air to the morning, the blue-hued rays filtering through the needles of trees. It was a day like any other. I waited outside Charlie’s house for him to leave for class. I had no plan. Short of makeshift handcuffs, I was out of ideas. He could probably knock me out at any time, and I had no idea how he did it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask nicely. He opened the door wearing a white wife beater that was just tight enough to show his abs through the fabric. When his verdant eyes turned to face me he looked amused. “You look different, little man,” he said. I stared at him blankly. I wasn’t sure what to do. He chuckled. “What is it you want from me anyways? You made your wish and it has nothing to do with mine.” He said. “What are you talking about?” I inquired bluntly. “I never made any wish. Frankly I have no idea what’s going on…although I’m not complaining, I guess,” I stated, rubbing my thick hands across the deep, shredded crevices of my abs. God, what was happening to me. “Sorry, that’s become a force of habit lately,” I mumbled. “You’ve never been to the well?” Charlie asked. “No. What well?” I asked impatiently. “Then what happened to you?” He seemed genuinely interested, the amusement on his face giving way to curiosity. And he clearly knew a lot more than I did. It couldn’t hurt to share. I described the metal bug, the insatiable desire to lift, the ravenous hunger, the euphoric growth, the second bite, and the dream. Well, the relevant parts of the dream. I also left out the parts about Delilah. He gazed at me intently before breaking into a smile. Then he took a deep breath. “Well, so much for class today. We’re going on a field trip.” Charlie said, dropping his backpack inside the door and then shutting it for good. He stretched and I could see the soft shadows of his triceps that I had felt in my dream. I was bewildered. Apparently my ignorance was enough to warrant his help. “Get ready for a bit of a hike. It’s not too far, but more than a quick walk.” After that he started ahead off without me, and I jogged to catch up. I followed him quietly as he led me through the neighborhood to a trail into the forest. It was a path I had run a few times before. Tall evergreens surrounded us, soft and inviting in the pale morning light. I spoke up once and he looked at me stolidly, telling me to “Just wait until we get there.” The rest of our trek was conducted in the relative silence of the forest. Only the frogs made sounds as they fell asleep for the day. I tried to focus on our surroundings instead of gaping awkwardly at his chiseled backside. I worried he would catch me staring and knock me out. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Squirrels ran through the leaf litter and up the trees, eying us cautiously as we made our way up the path. After about forty minutes we came to a unique collection of ovoid rocks that were stacked against one another, and he led us off the path to wade through the remnants of a trail overrun with forest scrub. I was forced to watch him as he guided us through, and I found that the longer I focused on him the less I was able to focus on anything else. There was a certain magnetism about the way he moved, confident and alluring. My eyes ate up his every motion hungrily. Everything about him was perfect. His back sculpted like the smoothest stone, his walnut colored hair reflecting beautifully in the sunlight, the beefy heads of his calves separating every time he took a stop, the sweat rolling off his caramel tanned skin, his clothes hugging his tight body with every motion. Amongst all the beauty of the forest, including my own, he outshined us all, a guiding light in the darkness. His radiance enraptured me, made me feel whole. A branch swept across my face, forcing my attention away from Charlie. The trance was lifted, and the rest of the world came rushing back into view. I felt on my face where I had been struck but could not find a cut or any pain. Another part of the transformation, I guessed. I wondered silently if anything could hurt me. When I looked back up at Charlie he seemed like an ordinary person again. Still just as attractive, but I was no longer transfixed by him. I found that if I stared for too long, however, I started to lose clarity again. It was best to focus elsewhere and follow the sound of him moving through the scrub. The last of the wildflowers were wilting in the mild summer heat. Another half an hour of trekking found us in a small clearing that was mostly shaded save for a few sharp slivers of sunlight that pierced through. Charlie stopped and took a long, deep breath. Leaf litter from the surrounding trees covered the ground, but few plants grew here. The ones that did had long, thin leaves almost like needles and vibrant red flowers that let their stamens out towards the ground. In the center of the clearing stood a stone structure resembling a well. The clean cut stones were a deep, mottled grey that I did not recognize. The well overflowed with water, and it spilled into a shallow pool of the same stone that encircled the structure. The water that flowed out seemed unnaturally dark, like it refused to let any light leave its shallow prison. A wooden covering was held by thin posts ornately carved with various animal and plant designs. It looked like it had been built long after the primary structure by someone other than the original architect. A small wooden bucket hung from the roof as well, although it did not seem to serve much purpose. “Welcome to the wishing well,” Charlie said with false ceremony. “I…don’t get it, honestly. Why are we here?” I said, perplexed. “Just go up to it. You’ll have to take your shoes off and put your feet into the water to look inside. Then you’ll see.” I agreed reluctantly. The whole structure, although simple enough, gave me an ominous feeling. Light and sound seemed to move oddly through the clearing because of it, sometimes enhanced and sometimes subdued but never what was expected. The well itself had a certain Lovecraftian alienness about it, as though whoever built it had tried to create something familiar but had failed in the details and instead made something entirely foreign. I steeled myself for whatever fate awaited me, taking my shoes off before the water. What the hell, I thought, rubbing my cheek where the branch had hit me. I am practically invincible now, anyways. The inky water was smooth and cool on my feet. The flow from the well gave me the impression of wading through the tide rather than standing in a pool, and I noticed that the water drained into holes along the pool’s stone edges. The closer I came to the well the more everything around it seemed to go dark in my vision. Soon the only thing I could see was the stone and the water, and my feet moving through it. The rest of the world had faded into a giant expanse, endless, vast, and humming with a vibrancy of life despite its emptiness. I rested my hands on the well, feeling the cool rush of dark water flow over them, and looked inside. Images swirled and began to take shape and form against the darkness. Soon I was a part of them, as though I was in a dream. I could not tell at first if the visions I saw were scenes from the future or memories. At times they felt like both. Each one was a snapshot from my life, not always in order but generally progressing forward. They came slowly at first, then faster and faster until they began to blur together. Important moments and small moments rubbed up against one another in a ceaseless barrage: graduation from university, a gentle kiss from a stranger, my election to head of an engineering firm, the desert view from atop a tall rock, my sister’s funeral. In every image I was the same age, and as time sped past I was oblivious to its effects. I traveled the world and experienced more than most do in a lifetime, summiting mountains and skyscrapers, exploring though canyons and across highways until I felt there was no more to see. I met others, many of them, from all walks of life. I talked with them, laughed with them, loved them, fucked them. I grew from each of them, and I cherished every one of them. In the midst of my travels, in a dark city alley lined with high adobe walls, I found a mirror. The humid air and sandy floor of the alley faded as I gazed into it. The reflection was my own, but I had grown to titanic proportions. At least twice my current size, and all muscle. The shelf of my pecs eclipsed the sun for those who stood under me, and the strength a single arm was enough to topple buildings. I was invincible, the epitome of eroticism and power. In the mirror’s visions, I filled my time with prodigious displays of my boundless strength, lifting ships with the flick of my wrist, stopping bullets and tanks that would stand in my way, eating and drinking and fucking whomever I pleased. I was indomitable in the world of men, a god for others to worship. I looked away from the mirror and continued on my own path. But the visions from the mirror stuck with me, haunting me. Time continued its march and I moved with it effortlessly, but the others did not. I watched my friends and loved ones die, and new ones sprang up to take their place. The stars continued to turn overhead, but I stopped counting the revolutions of the earth and the numbers of days that passed. Time was just an excuse for everything not to happen all at once. I watched the world change as my body refused to age. The seas rose and dried up, technologies advanced beyond what I thought possible, the natural world around us dwindled and was restructured in our image, countries rose and fell in what felt like minutes, and soon we left the earth behind. Eventually I jumped across stars with the rest of our species through the grandness of the cosmos, watching patiently what became of us as we traipsed from galaxy to galaxy. And just when I felt myself start to slip into a boundless infinity a hand pulled me out from the well. I inhaled sharply, as though I had just been rescued from the bottom of a pool. “What did you see?” he asked calmly. “I was immortal. I saw everything.” Charlie regarded me cautiously. “That’s a new one. Must have been why you were out for so long. “Look, just be careful. The well shows you the wish you want, but it doesn’t always grant it. Mostly it works out, but sometimes it fails and things get tricky. That’s probably where your bugs came from, too. Whoever made that wish may not have even been bitten.” I paused, considering what monstrous incarnation of eternity would spring forth from the well to grant my own wish. Finally I regained the courage to speak. “What did you wish for?” I asked. “I haven’t. I’m like you. The product of someone else’s wish.” I stared at him blankly. “When my mom was young she found this well by accident. Just like you and everyone who comes across it, it showed her what she wanted most, although she didn’t know it at the time. She says she saw the most beautiful woman in the world, one that no man could resist. When she asked the well to make it real, a branch grew from the water and offered her a fruit. “She got her wish. Not only was she beautiful, but men became obsessed with her. She drove them mad. And when she spoke, she could ask them to do anything she wanted.” “Like what you did with me?” I asked. He nodded. She had asked to become Helen but had become a Siren instead. And apparently it was heritable. “The way her wish was granted, she never knew if men loved her or were just lost in a trance. But she managed to fall in love with my dad, somehow, and they lived together long enough to have me. “Then one day while he was working on his car he cut his arm pretty deep, and when he looked at her she was a stranger. It took him a long time just to remember who she was, and after he couldn’t even look at her. They split after that. That’s the short version anyhow.” “What happened to her?” I asked. “She still lives here with me. She rarely goes out now. Too many eyes watching. Now she only talks with the others who have been to the well. Most of them online. They tend to scatter.” “What about you, then? Have you ever looked in the water?” “No, I haven’t. Too risky. I don’t have it even a quarter as bad as she does,” he said, gesturing down to his body, “And you can barely even look at me for more than five minutes.” I blushed. I wasn’t sure if he had noticed. “I have my whole life to think about what my wish will be. There’s no rush.” “So I could wish for everything to go back to normal?” “I don’t know. Whoever or whatever built this well doesn’t seem to need it anymore, so we can’t ask questions. We only know what we know from the wishes we’ve made. “Look, I only brought you here so you could understand what’s happening to you. It probably would have drawn you here anyways, even if I hadn’t shown you. That’s what happened to me, sort of like your dream. I can’t stop you from making your wish, but you should know it doesn’t always go according to plan.” I thought to argue, but it was useless. He had made up his mind. And so we left the clearing and headed home in silence once more. The siren’s son led me from the water, safe to dry land. -- The night was dark from thick cloud cover and an absent moon. I had spent all day packing, throwing away most of my clothes that wouldn’t fit anymore. I was already a day and a half late, and I tried to rush but I found it hard to focus. My mind was preoccupied with the well. My head buzzed with the wish that I would make, what, if anything, I would tell Delilah, and the behemoth that had stared back at me in the mirror. If I wanted to, I could ask for it. But that was someone else’s wish, I had to remind myself. Although, even still… I loved the way the downcast lighting reflected off of my body, the way every single crevice formed by my impressive musculature made a deep shadow. I thought about how I could make men cum just by letting them worship me, how even my fingers had the strength to bend metal with ease, and how the hard flesh under my skin was now akin to the metal that I lifted. Pre leaked ceaselessly from my hard cock as I subtly flexed and explored what my body had become. -- My flashlight barely lit the forest path as I made my way out to the well. I got lost a few times, having to turn back before I found the rock formation I was looking for. I stumbled my way through the trail, freshly beaten by our steps from this morning, and found my way to the clearing. The red flowers glowed with a soft phosphorescence in the darkness of the night. Only a few scarce stars were visible overhead. I took a deep breath, removed my shoes and placed my feet into the water. The temperature had not changed, and against the cool night air it was warm on my feet. The infinite expanse opened up to me again, my surroundings even darker than the night I came from. I saw the same visions pass before my eyes, including the mirror. And when it was done I stood silently for a few moments, the weight of eternity on my shoulders. Then I made my wish.
  5. Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the sexy one. A short summary of previous parts will be posted below. Part I Part II Part III Part VI -- Metamorphosis As soon as I closed my eyes I found myself drifting in a vast darkness. Everything was black and empty except for a dull, growing warmth inside me, like I was on the cusp of a fever. Time was hard to gauge here. I passed what could have been minutes or hours through the emptiness before the pulse in my veins began to rise. Slowly at first, but then stronger and stronger until it was near bounding. At the same time my muscles swelled and tightened to their own rhythm, every fiber burgeoning with more power from each flexion. The pleasure of each muscle filling out to its rightful proportion was exhilarating, almost orgasmic. Pre leaked out of me in streams and floated aside me through the abyss. I was lost in a tranquil euphoria, becoming something greater. More immeasurable time passed before the transformation slowed to a halt, and I realized that I was still dreaming. The darkness faded into a blue sky, my body falling gently into a field of tall grass. I opened my eyes slowly. The sun shone radiantly, casting its bright light over my body and a few crimson flowers that each rose like its own little sun from between the long blades. The warmth of the grass pressed against my now cool skin, the bristles soft against my hard flesh. I laid there calmly, basking in the afterglow of my metamorphosis. When I lifted my head and sat up, Charlie stared down at me. His expression was almost mischievous, like a little kid caught doing something he knew he shouldn’t. His feet dragged through the tall blades as he stepped towards me, pushing me back down with his foot as his body towered over mine. Even when he lifted his foot his confident gaze was enough to hold me in place. Something about him was spellbinding, commanding. My titanic strength was useless before it. He kneeled down on top of me and I felt the softness of the grass on my back mirror the smoothness of his skin on mine. Every muscle on his body was solid, smooth, and flawlessly proportioned. Running my hands across his triceps I felt each curvature as they flexed with the simplest motion. His eyes shone marvelously and effortlessly. Our lips touched. The physical separation between us faded as we continued to explore each other. I guided my hands along his burly arms while our lips played with each other’s, and then he ran his nose thorough the deep crevice of my solid abs, his fingers gently toying with my erect nipples until he brought his tongue back up to meet them. In an instant I rolled us over and pressed him down, forcing my tongue into his mouth. I was stronger, and it thrilled me. I pinned his arms on the ground and held his legs down with my massive quads, rubbing my dick slowly on top of his. Our abs slid across each other as my dick throbbed in anticipation of my load. Suddenly his lips left mine and he gazed into my eyes with a sort of smug expression. He guided me gently with his hands, and I could not help but yield to his touch. He flipped us back over. He stared at me again with that overwhelming confidence, and then started to kiss his way down to my cock. I leaned my back onto the stone well that had appeared behind us, as objects sometimes do in a dream. Just as he started to reach past my apollo’s belt, I let out a deep groan… -- I awoke to rain pounding on the roof. It was heavy and full and warm with summer. I stared at the fine grains of the wood of the ceiling for a long, hard minute before I was convinced that I wasn’t dreaming anymore. My heavy breathing and the drops on the windowpanes were the only sounds that filled the room. The paltry, muggy light of dusk gave me just enough light to see the vague outlines of the walls. Apparently I had slept for a long time. The blankets had tangled from my tossing and turning, and I carefully unraveled my cocoon of sheets to find freedom. A sharp inhale filled my lungs, my chest expanding outward proudly to let the air rush in. Even without seeing it, I felt thicker, stronger, more powerful. My muscles moved like steel under my skin. When I flexed them I felt as though I had the strength to lift buildings and move mountains. The sheets tore as I gripped them in anticipation. Fuck. I flipped the light switch on to guide my way to the bathroom, swelling with the suspense of my image in the mirror. To my horror, I found my body hadn’t changed at all. My heart fell out of my chest. All of my work had been for nothing. My cock head begged to differ, however, flaring larger than any I had ever seen and standing atop a dick that was one and a half times its original size. I had gone from just above average to well endowed, with thickness to match. When I touched it lightning ran through my body. But I held on, stroking gently. Watching myself jack off in the mirror was still something to behold. I lifted my 18 inch arms and watched each belly stand out in relief, chiseled, rock solid, perfection. My abs crunched down and formed a cobblestone eight pack. Fuck, I was starting to get weak in the knees. I grabbed onto the shower certain rod for support. Instead the metal bent in my hand, removing the rod from its holds. I fell on my butt and the rod clanged on the floor. Without getting up, I picked up the warped metal and gave it a quick bend with just my right hand. My left stayed dedicated to stroking off as I twisted the metal into whatever shape I pleased, watching the muscles on my forearms danced as I contorted it like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. It was exhilarating, knowing the strength I had in just my fingers. My cum reached the ceiling from the floor as I came. Good thing I was just tall enough to reach up there now. I kept playing with the rod as my cock finished its final spurts. A note for the iron bug manual: a full bite grants you Priapus’ cock and Hercules’ strength. Good to know. And then I had an idea. -- Two hours later I found myself in a big city, noticing the streetlights' reflection off of my old beat up truck and a few scattered puddles on the ground. The apartment building I was looking for seemed to rise up stoically out of the cement, featureless and foreboding for its onlookers. I felt the cool, fresh night air run across my hard flesh as I walked inside. The lights in the lobby flickered fluorescent and bright, in stark contrast to the melancholy world I had just left. A shell of safety and warmth. I took the elevator to the third floor and walked the long, sparsely decorated hallway down to room 304. When he opened the door he smiled at me. I’m sure he was surprised at what he found, since I had used pictures from two transformation cycles ago to find him. “Come on in,” he said, his deep voice complementing the hypermasculine stature that stood proudly before me. Head shaved, white skin, shirt that looked tailored to show off the size of his chest and the slimness of his waist. I guessed he was between 32 and 35, his face showing the subtle signs of aging that were combated by a life dedicated to lifting and fitness. He turned around and left the door open. I liked the way he walked. It was a mixture of that arrogant jock sort of saunter and the stilted, muscle-bound waddle of bodybuilders. His confidence was exuberant. That was going to be fun to break. He was just finishing dinner. In a large red cast iron pan, some inedible-looking green paste was still frying. He offered some to me. I looked at him and gave him a sly smile. “I don’t really watch what I eat,” I said, my expression falling back to the cold, elusive demeanor that I had adopted since the metamorphosis. He started to coach me on the impacts of diet on fitness and health and my attention drifted. I noticed his chest bounce every time he made a gesture. I could tell that he liked the way it stretched the fabric. Every movement was proud, calculated. I got up and moved towards him, him still going on about the lean muscle he had gained on his current diet. I took his wrist in my hand. It was solid, doubtlessly from years of lifting and perfecting his body. I wanted him to resist me, to give him a hint of how this night was going to go, but his hand moved with mine. I lifted my shirt and placed his rough fingers along my abs. “Does it feel like I need to go on a diet?” I said. He whistled, and a horny grin followed. “Okay, fair point,” he said. “Let’s head to the bedroom,” I said. He didn’t hesitate any further. “Wait, I need to use the bathroom first,” I lied. “Sure. It’s just around the corner there,” he said, pointing behind me. I watched him practically skip his way down the hall. He had a nice ass, perky and firm. Hi torso twisted to get through the doorframe. Meanwhile I took a quick detour to the garage. I got lucky. It was full of weights. I took a few minutes making preparations for the night. When I came back I found him with his shirt off, trying to look casual but clearly giddy with anticipation. I had to admit, his body was even more impressive without clothes on. Slightly marred by age, he still had a tight six pack and his lats stuck out noticeably from his sides, making his waist seem more trim. I could even see some of the striations in his pecs. He could compete as a lightweight bodybuilder if he wanted to, and maybe he had. “You like?” he said, lifting up his bicep. Probably over 18 inches. Bigger than mine. I smirked at him. “Sure, it’s alright.” He must have thought I was being sarcastic. “Where do you wanna start, big guy?” I said, playing to his pride. Having waited long enough, he pressed his lips into mine, softly. His lips were practiced, and his tongue moved skillfully in and out of my mouth. He led me over to the bed, but before he could lay on top of me I flipped us around and pushed him down onto it. He scrambled to take off his shorts and underwear and I took off my shirt slowly, letting him savor every moment of the reveal. I may not have gained much in size, but there was something of an unspeakable strength and dignity to my body. Every part of me was like iron, the flesh just barely containing the strength that lay under it. I stood over him for a few silent seconds before I revealed the metal bar I had kept hidden in my waistband. Normally it would be twice as long and more suited to hold weights, but I had torn it in half for what I had in mind. His expression was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. I bent the bar into a U shape right in front of him. It was like wire. I barely even felt the resistance. Without warning him I grabbed his wrists with my hands. He was in shock for the first few moments, but then he remembered that he should struggle. It was kind of cute. He thought he was strong, that I couldn’t possible keep him in my grip. It turned out the power in my fingers was more than he had in his entire upper body. I took the bar and put it around his burly wrists, clamping the metal shut with just one hand. The horror on his face was juxtaposed with his throbbing erection. Even if he didn’t understand what was happening he sure liked it. “How do you feel?” I asked, crushing off the loose ends of the bar and tightening down the space between his hands to form makeshift handcuffs. “What are you?” he responded, exasperated. “I honestly don’t know,” I replied. “Does it really matter?” I noticed that with his hands stuck together it made his chest stick out. Even while he was indisposed, the fullness and definition in his pecs were still admirable. My dick hardened at the thought that I had incapacitated him with so little effort. I reached down for his cock that was sticking out of his boxers. He was leaky. Hell, I would be too in a situation like this. There wasn’t a single part of my body that wasn’t worthy of salivating over. I threw him a few poses while I had him as my captive audience. Then I drew his throbbing member from its cotton sheath and whistled at what I found. At least eight inches, hard as stone, head throbbing with anticipation. Gaining momentum, I lifted him up off the bed and hefted him over my shoulder. Then I pressed him up with one hand. The metal dragged along my back as I lifted him, and I could feel the indentations my fingers had left. He stared at me with an expression of wonder and lust. I smiled at him and brought him back down towards me, allowing our lips to meet. Then I worked my tongue down his neck, past his nipples, across his abs until they met the head of his cock. I was pleasantly surprised that he lasted for more than a few minutes with my tongue wrapped around his head. I took my time, never letting him drop an inch even as he started to leak. When I felt him getting close I held him with both hands around his waist and started rubbing his cock against my chest. The idea must have really riled him up, because he came almost immediately. I laughed as his rather prodigious volume splashed up against my chin. Some of it found its way to my lips. It was sweet. I tossed him on the bed to marinate in his own juices while I went to wash off. But before I got in his shower, I spread the substantial volume of semen that I had earned across my chest. I liked the “oiled” look, the way the lighting made every fiber in my already awesome chest stand out even more. Turning the water on, I took turns bouncing them up and down as I washed them. I went slowly, admiring the absolute control I had over every muscle in my body. Soon I was touching myself all over… My cum stained his ceiling. I was sure he wouldn’t mind. When I got back to the room he lifted his bound hands towards me and begged: “Please, officer?” I obliged, twisting the metal off of his wrists without a drop of sweat. “Can I see you again?” he asked, almost pleading. I frowned. “Sadly, I’m moving tomorrow. I was supposed to leave yesterday, actually, but some business came up. If I’m ever back in town, you’ll be the first person I call.” I left him on the bed, still soaked in his own cum, dazed from what I had done to him. I felt sated. It was time to get some answers. Part V
  6. Looking forward to the rest of this
  7. arbotimus

    The Hazing

    This one got me especially hard while writing it. Special thanks to Xyggurat for the story idea and help along the way. Neal ran his favorite red styling brush through his hair, slicked back and neatly trimmed. The last stray strand was finally wrangled into place, the caramel color of his Indian skin contrasting subtly against his perfectly symmetrical hairline. His large, brown eyes inspected every detail of the finished product in the mirror. Neal spent almost an hour every day washing and styling until his hair was perfectly coiffed. He wasn’t the most handsome gay on the block, but he certainly cleaned up the best. His collared shirt and khaki shorts that cut off above his knees lent a preppy air to his clean features. This was Neal’s favorite part of the day, putting his face and outfit together. If he had spent half as much time in the gym as he did styling, he would be a god. Neal chose instead to hide his lanky features beneath designer clothes. He headed downstairs from his room to the first floor of the frat house he lived in. They were a small frat at a small university, but everything here was orderly and clean. That was a large part of what drove Neal to this frat in the first place. He liked sanitary living quarters. Joaquin met him as he made his way towards the entrance. “Are you ready for this?” he asked. “Honestly, I just want to get it over with. I’m not terribly interested in bossing a little brat around in the name of brotherhood.” Neal replied. “Aww, come on, lighten up. It’ll be fun, having a personal servant for the next few days. I am, of course, lending my slave to Cyndi as a, uh, belated anniversary present, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a little fun,” he said. “I think that’s called abuse of power, Joaquin,” Neal said, mostly jokingly. “Eh,” he shrugged it off. They strolled together out of the house to join the rest of their brothers on the lawn. A row of timid freshman stood before the group, most trying to hide their anxiety with feigned careless expressions. Neal gave them all a quick once-over to assess which one would be the least annoying. One in particular caught his attention. He caught everyone’s attention, probably, standing a head taller and about twice as wide as the rest of the nominees. His slightly wrinkled gym clothes and unshaven face made Neal cringe a bit, but the rugged ensemble was balanced by arms that stretched out his sleeves to straining and a chest that stuck out in high relief through the tight fabric. Neal’s imagination filled in the loose space below with tight abs that clenched every time he inhaled. Neal guessed that he had to have been a former wrestler who had taken up bodybuilding. He was not often wrong about things like these. Neal moved his eyes on down the line, pretending that he hadn’t taken special notice of the Olympian stud that stuck out like a phoenix in a flock of pigeons. But as the rest of the sordid cast failed to impress him, his gaze wandered back over to the veritable Adonis. He quickly found himself lost in the icy blue eyes that were both confident and a little bit sly, staring casually ahead. His blond, short cut hair was dulled but still vibrant in the early morning light. He was the image of masculinity and youth. Helios in basketball shorts. Neal was torn from his reverie by the sound of a throat clearing. John, the frat president, proceeded with a long-winded speech about the meaning of brotherhood and the tradition of the fraternity. Neal couldn’t be bothered to pay attention while he was so busy with his exaltation. John blathered on with his trivial monologue, explaining to the pledges that they would be assigned to fulfill the needs of a brother for the next three days to demonstrate their loyalty (and not, Neal noted, just as an excuse to avoid doing chores). The hot pledge was focused intently on John. Lucky John. “And now for your assigned brothers…” John said, listing off names as ceremoniously as he possibly could while standing on a plastic chair in the tiny, unadorned lawn. “Kent and Neal,” he said. And, of course, the hot pledge stepped forward. Although he had a name now, Neal thought. He should probably learn it. Kent Kent Kent. Neal glanced at John and gave him a brief look of exasperation. John knew he was the only gay brother in the house, and clearly this had gone into the decision making. For the first time since he started speaking, John gave a subtle smirk, as if to say “You’re welcome.” Neal took a deep breath and approached Kent with all the poise and confidence a senior brother should have over a pledge. Kent approached him calmly, holding out his hand. His gaze aimed downwards into Neal’s, the intensity of the color giving Neal a momentary pause. “Kent,” was the only thing he said. “I’m Neal,” he responded, shaking Kent’s hand. Firm and rough, a weightlifter’s hand, and he didn’t shake lightly. His hands felt clean, at least, even if he was overall scruffy. Kent was about to speak again, but Neal interrupted him. “But you can call me big brother for today. My first class starts in half an hour. You’ll carry my stuff to class.” Even though Neal was trembling on the inside, he was not about to let it show. Kent took to his role as personal butler quickly, and readily accepted Neal’s backpack. Neal guided them forward, Kent following deftly behind. Small talk ensued. Kent was here on an academic scholarship, a transplant from California. He had planned to go on to medical school somewhere on the west coast. “If we’re being honest, I thought you were here on a sports scholarship. What with the school logo on your shirt and all.” Neal said. Kent gave a sympathetic chuckle. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” “I bet” Neal said. “I could if I wanted to, though. The teams around here aren’t much to sneeze at. And, I mean…” he motioned down to his body, as if to say “look at me.” So modesty wasn’t his strong suit. Neal gave him that resigned but sassy “oh really” look. Meanwhile he was fighting a public erection. From the look on his face, Kent knew exactly how to play this game. The more he could fluster his big brother, the fewer menial tasks would be thrown his way over the next three days. Neal’s mind wandered back to past exploits who, though not quite as built as Kent, had used him until something better came along. Each one had blighted his confidence, and now there was not much left to speak of, at least internally. He turned away from the Kryptonian display, not eager to let his highly polished exterior falter. This was going to be a torturous three days. Then, as if to confirm his fate, a passing gull left a messy present on Neal’s shoulder. While he usually prided himself in his composure, unexpected messes were almost intolerable. Kent let out a small chuckle. “Go in the front pocket of my bag and pull out the baby wipes.” Neal demanded, coming unhinged. Kent did as he was told. Neal started scrubbing furiously. “I can’t see it very well…” Neal said. He glanced at his burly butler for a moment, contemplating his position. “I need you to wipe it off for me.” Neal held his breath as Kent’s body towered over his own. He watched the burgeoning arm muscles tense and harden as Kent started to clean him. Neal was trying his hardest not to get aroused, but he was doing a poor job in the face of such overwhelming temptation. Kent’s scent somehow reminded him of his grandmother’s house in New Mexico. Neal was about to lean in closer when Kent paused. Neal glanced over his other shoulder to see what had happened. A group of muscle-bound jocks were sitting at a table in the distance and giggling in their direction. “You know them?” Neal asked. “Yeah, my friends…” Kent said. Neal paused for a moment. He was torn between basic human kindness and his almost irrational compulsion to not be covered in bird droppings. His current status as master to this muscle-bound servant tipped his priorities towards the latter. “Keep scrubbing.” Neal could have sworn that Kent started blushing. Neal felt something strange well up inside of him. It was oddly pleasant, starting at his chest and emanating outwards towards his back, arms, and legs. As it faded, he felt as if he had just finished a light workout and he was slightly out of breath. He felt spry, limber, and refreshed. Eventually the stain faded enough for Neal to feel secure again, and Kent backed away. Neal thought it was almost kind of cute to see him fumble. Kent regained his composure as quickly as he had lost it, but Neal did not forget the feeling it inspired. That night, Neal reflected on the day as he began his nightly beauty rituals. Aside from the bird poop incident, Kent had not faltered in his cocky jock persona. He picked up Neal with a casual ease when he tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, bragged over his medical knowledge despite being a freshman, and opened a jar in half a second that had refused to yield to Neal’s scrawny arms (exaggerating the flexion in his forearms and biceps as he twisted the lid). Neal felt like he was the one being hazed. No matter what he asked Kent to do, he did it with such ease and confidence that Neal was the one left embarrassed. Neal disrobed to his boxers, which were his nightly wear in the heat of the summer. He noticed that his body looked more toned today. A little bit rounder in the shoulders, more defined in the abs. The curve of his triceps even started to make an appearance when he flexed them. Apparently just hanging out with a jock was enough to make you more like them. Neal hopped into bed, proud of his small victory at the end of a drudging day. Kent was all too chipper the next morning when Neal came out to greet him. Neal was preemptively exhausted by the day ahead, and tossed his backpack towards Kent. Kent caught it and lifted it up and down a few times, showing off the smooth, round marble that composed his biceps. “A little heavier than yesterday,” he said. “I have a lab today,” Neal responded, knowing that an explanation didn’t really matter. Neal trudged onwards towards class, Kent following dutifully behind him. Neal noticed that his shadow was eclipsed by Kent’s. Even following in Neal’s wake he was demonstrating his superiority. That was until Neal happened to glance Kent’s friends out of the corner of his eye. Deciding that it would be okay to be late for just one class, he took a detour in their direction. He flaunted his impotent attendant as he passed. Fortunately for Neal, one of Kent’s friends was quick on the draw and threw a piece of paper on the ground near a trash can. Neal didn’t wait a moment. “Go pick it up,” he said. Kent hesitated for a moment. “Well?” Neal asked, letting a mischievous grin escape. Kent was now blushing full force. “Go on, golden boy,” said one of Kent’s larger friends. Kent did as he was told. And Neal felt it again, the pleasant humming in his chest. It was stronger this time, and did not fade as quickly. He thought he might be imagining it, but his shirt felt a little tighter as it ended, and his shorts were pulled a little higher above his knees. This sensation scared him a little, but he didn’t feel the need to stop. “Kent?” Neal said. “Yes?” he responded. “Yes?...” “Yes, big bro” Kent muttered shyly. The jock behind him burst out laughing. Neal felt it again. Now he was sure his sleeves were getting tight. He needed to invest in looser clothing. “Time for class. Let’s go, pledge.” Another bump. Neal was starting to get hard when it happened, too. He tried not to face his body to Kent, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I figure it’s not really hazing if you don’t suffer at least a little,” Neal said jokingly, looking Kent straight in the eyes. Kent just grunted. His demeanor changed as well. He seemed to be distracted, and he had lost his confident air. Neal noticed this and it only fueled whatever state he was in. It was getting harder to ignore the stretch in his shorts when he walked, or the feeling of his chest rising beneath his shirt. He noticed that Neal was not quite filling out his shirt the way he used to. More like a heavy fitness model than a budding bodybuilder. Kent had taken to looking down, and his shoulders were hunched over. Neal attributed his sudden change in size to poor posture. By the time they got to Neal’s first class, he had become accustomed to his tight fitting clothes. He even enjoyed it, a little. All of the pride he had taken in his looks was now adorned on a more worthy frame. The fact that his clothes fit better just augmented the clean look he had always strived for. Their trip had also given Kent time to recover to his former attitude. He had taken to answering all the professors’ questions in every class, which annoyed Neal to no end. His last class of the day was an advanced cellular biology course. Unlike before, Kent found himself struggling to keep up with the lecture. Even though it wasn’t expected of him to follow, it was clear that his pride was more than a little hurt as a scholarship recipient and future doctor. Neal came in behind the professor and explained everything, showing off just how much more he knew. And every time Neal explained, he grew a little bit more. His hard on was hidden under the tablet arm. When everyone got up to go, Neal looked down and noticed that his undershirt was starting to show through the gaps in his collared tee. He was pretty sure he his shorts would rip if he moved, as well. Meanwhile Kent was facing the opposite problem. His shirt was now looked appropriately sized, and while his arms were still far burlier than most, they lacked that sleeve-stretching quality. Neal began to realize what was happening to the both of them. He stared long and hard at Kent, deciding what to do. He sent Kent home for the night, making up some excuse about a family emergency. Neal’s nightly mirror ritual took a somewhat different course than usual. He stared at the changes in his body for a long time before he finally accepted what was happening. His breathing was heavy. Neal had always been the runt of the litter, and now that he was above average size his clothes felt like they were made for kids. The first thing he noticed was how tightly the buttons on his shirt were held together. In fact, he was surprised they hadn’t bust open already. Each button undone gave his chest the freedom it had been yearning for all day. He felt the smooth, hard roundness of his shoulders as he slid the shirt over them, having to peel his sleeves off of his arms. Small softballs, when he flexed. Next to come off were his shorts. Neal had a tough go of it. They were tight to begin with, and now it was almost impossible to roll them off the meaty quads that adorned his legs. Even his calves gave him some trouble. Neal was hard at his reflection in the mirror. For once he couldn’t decide what he was going to wear the next day. Nothing would fit. Neal sent Kent a message the next morning: “I’m going to need to borrow some of your clothes. All of my gym clothes are in the wash.” It was a Saturday, and Neal was surprised that Kent was awake to respond. Kent didn’t question the request, or that Neal had invited himself over. Kent’s place was on the way to the gym. Neal threw on his baggiest clothes, for once not caring very much how he dressed. Even in his sweatshirt and loose jeans, he was still more attractive than he had ever been. When he got there, Neal noticed that he did not have to look up at Kent very much anymore. Kent was still noticeably larger than him, but Neal felt that it wouldn’t be long before that changed. Kent seemed too absorbed in the changes happening to his own body to have noticed the dramatic changes in Neal. In fact, he barely looked in Neal’s direction, opting to avert his gaze towards the ground. Kent led Neal into his room, not paying him much attention as he rummaged through is dresser to find clothes that would fit his new brother. Neal, emboldened by the changes, began to disrobe. “Damn,” Kent said. “I didn’t realize you were so stacked.” Neal smiled. He tried to subtly admire his abs, pretending that they were a quotidian feature of his body. “Really, you think so?” he said. He lingered for a little too long, perhaps, to sell that particular tale. “It’s a well-kept secret,” he lied. And he felt the surge of growth as Kent admired his body. He was almost eye level now. And approaching equal size with Kent. “Kent,” Neal beckoned. “Yes, big bro?” Bump. “Get on the floor. Pushups. Go.” Neal demanded. Kent was all too happy to oblige. This was his area of expertise, and he needed no further prodding to work out. Kent had only pounded out ten (with grace and ease, despite his loss in size) when Neal, in a sudden fit of competitive spirit, joined him. Neal had never completed more than twenty five pushups in a row in his life. But he breezed past thirty without a sweat with the strength he had stolen from Kent. He made a point of counting out loud, too. Kent started as well. And slowly Neal started to overtake him. The harder he pushed, the more frustrated Kent became, and the more he fueled Neal’s growth. Neal felt tireless. Instead of slowing down he was speeding up, his body taking all of the energy it needed from the former giant. Eventually Kent couldn’t push up any longer. Neal kept going, his vigor almost endless. He stared at Kent directly in the eyes as he hefted himself up and down with Kent’s strength. “Man, that was too easy,” Neal said. He had stopped out of courtesy to Kent, not having broken a sweat. Meanwhile Kent was struggling to get up, his shirt soaking. By the time Kent got up, he noticed that he was looking up at Neal. He started to panic. “What the fuck is going on?” he said. Kent tried to bolt. Neal grabbed him out of instinct. Normally Kent was not used to being pushed around by anybody, but in Neal’s vice-like grip he was completely immobilized. Neal stared into his frosty eyes. They were full of fear and panic. Kent was still beautiful by anyone’s standards. His body was more like a model’s now, muscular in all the right places and lean in others. If it wasn’t for his scruffy beard and gym clothes, he would have belonged on an Abercrombie bag. But compared to Neal he didn’t stand a chance. Neal noticed how the curve of his triceps formed a nice shadow as he so casually held Kent in place. “Wow, it’s so easy to subdue you. Are you even trying to get away?” Neal said. Kent started to flail in response. That wouldn’t do. Neal reacted with reflexes that were not his own, wrestling Kent down to the ground until he was on top of him. Kent’s arms were bent behind his back and his legs were held down by the prodigious thighs Neal now possessed. “You know, the more you struggle and can’t get away the stronger I get…it’s fun to watch.” Kent stopped moving. Neal still held him down, enjoying his absolute control over the stud that he had drooled over just two days ago. He was sure Kent could feel his hard on pressing against his ass. Eventually Neal let Kent go, and Kent had no further intent of trying to escape. It was useless anyhow. He was too familiar with his old body to think he could escape the behemoth that now sat before him. While Kent contemplated his situation, Neal was having fun exploring his new body. Between bouncing his pecs and lifting up his massive arms to pronounce to all of the world his newfound size, he tried a few poses that came naturally to him now: side chest, most muscular, lat spread. And not a hair out of place. Between those poses he noticed Kent getting hard. “You want this, don’t you pledge?” Kent just stared at Neal with his still ruggedly handsome face and piercing eyes. “As much as I like your new model look, I’m afraid I’ll have to be taking that as well.” Kent did not much seem to object. Neal ceremoniously took his cock out of his boxers, growing to a size well beyond what he had before. Kent fell to his knees, opening his mouth. Neal’s pre dripped down onto Kent’s lips as he took out his tongue. Kent’s cheeks were red. Neal liked that. He smacked his cock against Kent’s face a few times. “You must have done that so many times…how does it feel?” Neal said. Kent just stared at him, placing his mouth over Neal’s dick. Neal’s eyes closed as Kent worked his tongue up and down his shaft. He could still feel the pleasant glowing inside him as he took the last of Kent’s strength away. And the best part was that Kent wanted it now. Kent belonged to him, body and soul. Kent couldn’t help but spill a little when Neal released his load into his mouth. Neal’s cock had been growing while it was still inside him, and Neal wasn’t shy about releasing his full load. When Kent opened his eyes, he saw that Neal had been flexing in the mirror. Neal didn’t waste any time. “Hand me one of your shirts. The loosest one,” he said. Kent obediently fetched him a shirt. He didn’t really have a choice now. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like he was barely out of high school, and his old clothes draped over him like he was a little kid wearing his dad’s oversized shirt. Neal slid Kent’s tee over his arms and struggled to get it passed his chest. It didn’t even make it all the way down to his waist. Neal tried not to move. He was afraid he would tear his new servant’s clothes. He was already stretching them to max capacity, and he was clearly larger than Kent had even been. He started to get hard again. “What now?” Kent asked. “Well I guess you’ll just have to be my servant from now on, little dude. How about you bring those lips over here again?” Neal said. Kent did as he was told.
  8. arbotimus

    The Suit

    Not exactly my wheelhouse, but wrote this at the request of a furry friend. He is probably going to post it elsewhere too, in case you happen to come across a similar story. “Hey Chad.” Chad rolled over languidly on the couch to face Andy. Summer had just begun, and Chad wore only boxers as he woke up from his mid-day nap. His prodigious girth bulged through the thin fabric unapologetically, his head starting to peak through the rim. Chad had been unable to work out for the past year due to his herniated disc, but his body still reflected his formerly jockish stature. While he had lost a fair amount of mass, he still had above average musculature and tone. His chest stuck out proudly above where his abs had been, and his arms, though softer than before, still filled the sleeves of his shirts nicely. Chad was unsatisfied with this, but there was not much he could do about it in his condition. His cock, in the meantime, was unaffected and made this fact known at every opportunity. He grinned mischievously. Andy had been upstairs working on a “secret project” for the last few hours, and Chad had already started throbbing in anticipation. As Andy strolled down the stairs and into the living room, Chad admired his lithe body and smooth, young features. His deep jade eyes held a playful expression. “What have you got there?” Chad said, eyes intently focused on what Andy was holding behind his back. Andy grinned in kind, revealing his red panda suit. “Put this on, for starters. I made some changes I think you’ll like. I’ll go grab the head.” Chad hurriedly started donning the suit, careful to avoid aggravating his injury, and had just finished when Andy returned. So far he hadn’t noticed anything obviously different. Eager to find out what Andy had devised, he placed the red panda head over his own while Andy finished strapping up the last of the Velcro. “Okay, now don’t freak out. The spell I bound to the suit is going to start when I say the trigger word, and it might be kind of intense,” Andy said. “What? Why would I…?” Chad started to say. “Zanzibar,” Andy whispered. In spite of Andy’s warning, Chad started to freak out just a little. The suit tightened around his body when Andy had released the spell. While the fabric wasn’t constricting him, it started to conform perfectly to the outline of his body. “What did you do?” he said, a note of panic in his voice. Andy just smirked and watched as the transformation began. Chad first felt a warmth in his groin that slowly radiated outwards across the rest of his flesh. As it spread, his muscles tensed and relaxed rhythmically beneath the fabric, growing slowly with every flexion. The suit continued to alter its shape to accommodate the changes. It expanded where his swelling biceps and burgeoning triceps fought for space on his arms, while it shrank in the waist as his abs tightened into thick cords of muscle. It failed to keep up around his torso, however, momentarily constricting his breathing. His chest pushed relentlessly outward, growing rounder and fuller by the second, and his back pulled the fabric in the opposite direction giving a nobility to his stature. Ultimately it caught up, providing the contour for his heavy set of pecs and fitting perfectly taut along the jutting lats. It seemed to fare better with his quads and calves, even though they were ballooning at an equally dizzying rate. His legs rubbed together as he finally stood again and took a few steps towards Andy. “What the hell just happened?” Chad asked, still in shock. “What, you don’t like it?” Andy said. Andy couldn’t help but appreciate the results of his work. He guided his hands across the powerful chest and down the row of abdominals leading to thick, meaty quads. He kind of regretted not making the fur softer than it already was; some of the changes were hidden behind the thickness of it. Even still, he realized he had overcorrected (perhaps on purpose), and Chad was a little larger and better defined than he had been before his injury. Chad attempted to answer the question, but before he got his first word out the second part of the spell had started to take effect. The warmth that began in his groin intensified to a sensation near orgasm, his head flaring and pre leaking from his slit. His eyes, though not visible to Andy, began to roll back in his head and he fell to his knees from the overwhelming pleasure. It was a few minutes before Chad came back to his senses. Andy was not really in a rush to help him, either. Watching this indomitable stud he had created fall to his knees as the result of his work had him more than a little hard. Chad then lifted his head and gave Andy that lusty look that the costume had been designed for. Andy froze in anticipation. They held eye contact for what seemed like minutes before Chad rushed in on Andy and immediately began to disrobe him between grinding sessions. “How does your back feel?” Andy asked. Chad didn’t have time for questions like that. He was too busy running his claws across Andy’s back and humping him vigorously. The spell had given him some prehensile control over his tail, and he used it to wrap around Andy’s waist and rub it along his crotch. He then threw Andy down on the couch, noticing for the first time the newfound strength that had been missing for so long. And he relished in it. Andy was now his plaything, a vessel to shove his cock into anytime he wanted. The look on Andy’s face was still a little smug, though, as far as Chad was concerned. That wouldn’t do. Chad picked him up from under his legs, shoving him into the wall by the fireplace. They hadn’t done this position since the injury, and now Andy felt like a feather in his burly arms. He started to frot against Andy through the suit, the firmness of his cock apparent to Andy’s bare skin even through the fabric. After he couldn’t take it any longer, Chad slipped his dick through the opening in the crotch. His head pressed gently against Andy’s hole as it begged for release from the confines of the suit. “You’re going to cum soon if you keep going at this rate,” Andy advised. Chad didn’t seem to be paying much attention. “Alright then, you asked for it. Heel, boy.” Chad felt something like a rope slide around his wrists, shoulders, legs, and ankles, lightly at first and then just shy of painful. He couldn’t see anything physically binding him, but he guessed that Andy had constricted the suit at those points to allow control over Chad’s motions. Andy descended to the floor as Chad’s wrists drew closer to his ankles, and by the time his feet hit the ground Chad was already hogtied with his knees on the floor. “Let’s just take this nice and slow, okay?” Chad stared intently at Andy already knowing full well he could not disagree. He was using the full strength of his new body to pull against the binds to no avail. The more he flexed the tighter the binds became, and it was only making him harder. “I added that command in as a precaution in case you got a little too frisky, but I think I like you better this way. It reminds you who’s really in control here…” Andy trailed off. Chad’s cock still stuck out of his suit, full mast and dripping with pre. Andy knelt down gently and worked the tip of his tongue across his slit, slowly lapping up the sweet fluid that flowed steadily down his shaft. He carefully brought his lips down to meet the head as his tongue slid further down the shaft until his entire head was held inside Andy’s mouth. His tongue explored fluted edges of the expanding head, which always grew dramatically as he approached orgasm. Chad still held every muscle in tense opposition to the binds, starting to moan involuntarily as Andy held him constantly on edge. It might have been a byproduct of the spell, the fact that he was bound, or just from the absence of the pain that had plagued him, but the motion of Andy’s tongue incited more erogenous sensation than he could recall ever experiencing. All of his conscious thoughts were absorbed in the ecstasy of that moment. Andy pulled his mouth off of Chad’s dick, making a popping sound as his lips slid over the edges of the head. Now that Andy had released him from his blissful stupor, Chad slid slowly back into reality. He managed to angle his head so that he could look down at his cock, still pulsing, and noticed that it had not grown to match the rest of him. With some clarity finally returning to his thoughts, he managed to blurt out his burning question. “Andy, why didn’t you make me any bigger down there?” “Christ, aren’t you big enough?” Andy replied. Chad started to whimper in protest. What good was this body if it didn’t have the cock to match? Andy couldn’t help but smile at the behemoth who knelt entangled before him, begging him for more. “Hold on,” Andy said, flicking Chad’s cock hard with his middle finger on his way to emphasize his helplessness. Andy returned a few minutes later with a large, leather-bound book, leafing through the pages. Chad was still in binds, fully erect, and as far as Andy could tell still growing. Andy flipped through the pages of his tome looking for the addition to the spell that he needed, meanwhile allowing Chad to stand briefly before binding him again to a nearby chair. Ergonomics were important, after all. Once he found the incantation he was looking for, he studied it momentarily and began to recite it softly in the direction of the suit. The musical tones that escaped his lips were low and guttural, like a toad attempting a song in bass. The hair on the suit stood up as Andy made the changes to his previous spell. Within the first few notes, Chad’s dick started to throb with greater fervor than he thought possible. Each pulse left his dick just a little bit harder, thicker, longer, larger. The massive inflation of his already gigantic cock was almost painful, but Chad watched in ignorance of this as his dick grew larger by the second. “Happy?” Andy inquired after Chad’s cock had stopped growing. If Andy had to guess, it had gained about a third of its original size. Chad just stared at Andy through his lusty panda eyes. The renewed pre flowing exuberantly down his shaft like a small stream answered his question for him. Andy grabbed Chad by his joystick and started again where he had left off, realizing that his fingers barely fit around the shaft. Andy could feel Chad’s urethra pumping in his hands as the pre continued to flow. A few precursory strokes were followed with an attempt at fitting the massive rod in his mouth, but Andy was having some difficulty even fitting the head in. He had probably made Chad a little too large, even if Chad was too lost in ecstasy to recognize it. Andy made a mental note of things to change for the next time around. Without warning, Chad exploded into Andy’s mouth. While Andy did his best to swallow all of it, the force of his spray was augmented by the spell and the greater part of Chad’s cum spilled out through his lips, leaking back down onto Chad’s cock and groin. After gently removing his mouth from Chad’s head, Andy licked his lips. Slowly Chad’s convulsions died down and the semen stopped flowing. Andy and took a minute to clean himself up while he admired his handiwork. Chad’s body seemed as though it had not entirely finished growing, and even though he was still snugly bound Andy enjoyed watching his muscles tense as he resisted in futility. Meanwhile Chad had not quite finished his ejaculation, and shot a few extra spurts across Andy’s face. Andy chuckled a bit. The cum he was wiping off his nose and chin was nothing compared to the volume that ran down Chad’s shaft and soaked his groin. Andy took a few seconds to take in the whole scene, and then decided it was time to come to a close. “Kookaburra,” he whispered softly into Chad’s ear, citing the trigger word to inactivate the spell. Chad was perhaps too incapacitated to notice the changes, but Andy watched as he returned to his previous size, his cock the only feature that remained hard and proud as it returned to its former stature. His arms deflated, his chest sank, and his back shrank as the magic that had sustained his gargantuan body returned to the suit. Chad came back to his senses right around the end of the transformation. He removed the panda head, still reeling from the orgasm. Andy kissed him gently, the taste of Chad’s cum still fresh on his lips. “When can we do that again?” he asked. “Any time you like, big guy,” Andy said.
  9. Not exclusively about the officer, but he plays a big part: https://archive2007.muscle-growth.org/stories/1622.html
  10. Found it after digging through my favorites. Here's the link for anyone who is interested: http://ydt81.deviantart.com/art/Unexpected-1-Some-Revision-283416354
  11. Yep, that's the one. Any idea what it was called?
  12. I'm trying to remember the title of a story that I may have found on here or another site. The premise is a bi jock has a regular fuck buddy who is smaller than him, and he sneaks into his apartment window to top him every once in a while. But on this particular night, the smaller guy reveals that he can basically grow to any size he wants, and starts to take charge. There's a particular part where the jock doesn't want to get fucked, and the growing guy says that he won't fuck him if he is able to guess his weight in three guesses (and it is above 500, or somewhere around there). Hopefully that is enough detail. Really bummed I didn't save it somewhere for future reference.
  13. I had a day off and decided to make this happen. Not sure if this is part one or just a one-shot. Comments and suggestions are appreciated as always, especially on if I should continue. *Zap* The bright beam from the sky attenuated rapidly. And then only a man remained, stark naked in the middle of the desert. But what a man he was. His pecs were the first thing to flex. Slowly at first, those globes of muscle rising, becoming fuller and rounder by the second. He stood there casually, pecs unapologetically standing at full mast, for a solid minute. After what felt like an eternity, he let one drop and proceeded to bounce them. The rest of his body was still except for the massive balloons heaving up and down on his chest. He looked as though he was enjoying himself. With pecs still bouncing (it almost looked automatic now), he pushed his elbows in and let his triceps stand in relief. Like sand dunes carved into his arms, immense and sharp. But they didn’t stay for long. He brought his arms up into a classic double bi pose. Like Everest, mountainous peaks piercing the heavens. The belly of each muscle was so fat and engorged that it seemed to spill over the edges of his arm, barely contained by his skin. He followed with an unbelievable most muscular pose. A dimple formed in his pecs where the major met the minor, while his forearms and biceps formed a thick, pulsing frame for his cobblestone abs. His dick was long, full, hard, throbbing. The head bobbed up and down menacingly, threatening to release. He came without as much as a wince. The cum shot right through his arms still held in the most muscular pose. 2 points. Wallace was not inclined to believe in fantasy or science fiction, but the evidence stood there proudly, cumming into the sunbaked dirt. He had just been out categorizing local species of lizards when the giant laser shot down from space and dropped off, of all things, a naked man. The Adonis from the sky. And he had Jason’s face. It had been a while since they had last hung out in high school, but Wallace was pretty confident that this extraterrestrial hunk used to be Jason. His hard on was leaking pre in his denim jeans. The desert sun shone on his olive skin, the bushy cactus he was hiding behind providing no shade. A second cylinder of light left some clothes on the ground nearby before fading away. They were garments for giants. Jason reluctantly put them on, obviously still wanting to explore his newfound prowess. The white tee shirt fit tightly around his arms and his shelf of a chest made a tent where the fabric draped over it. The mesh shorts, while equally as oversized, did not do much to hide his mind-bendingly massive quads or his apparently constant erection. As he moved to a double bi pose again, the fabric seemed to be barely holding together. -- It felt good to flex. It was somehow right in this body, natural. The constant arousal in his dick felt good, too, but it was almost annoying. His cock was permanently hard and he felt like he was going to cum every second. It was hard to focus, especially when he flexed. Which was almost impossible to resist. Should probably get that adjusted. On that note, they could’ve dropped him off closer to his house, too. Even though they gave him clothes (that barely fit, honestly), he was a spectacle. It hadn’t mattered much in the wilderness when no one was around, but as he walked around the oasis of a suburb he called home he received more than a few stares. He was probably going to have to get used to that. It took him a while to get inside once he reached his place. His hands were just so much bigger now. He thought for a second that he might just bust the door in, but he figured his landlords probably wouldn’t like that… Success. He got inside without breaking anything. But the house he was renting felt a little different somehow. He picked up an old framed picture of himself and his parents from high school. An average looking dude stared at him out of the photograph, maybe a little scrawny. Dark messy hair fell over his tan brown skin and framed his sly smile. He absentmindedly tossed it towards his bed. It flew into the wall and shattered. Well, so much for not breaking anything. It didn’t really matter, anyways. That was the old him. He picked up the photo, dusting off shards of glass and wondering if they could even hurt him anymore. Or if anything could hurt him anymore. He shoved the photo in an old travel guide. He was about to set it down when a thought crossed his mind. He grabbed each end with just his finger and thumb and tore it right in half. Like it was a napkin. The pieces dropped to floor with a thud, utterly defeated. The torn photo spilled out of the pages and onto the floor. Then he grabbed a phone book and tore that apart too. It was nothing. He reached for a pan and was about to crush it, but then he thought better of destroying all his worldly possessions. Clearly he could if he wanted to. Might as well not use them up all at once. As he looked for somewhere to rest, he finally noticed his room was much smaller than it was before. He couldn’t even lift his arms without hitting the ceiling, and he had to turn sideways just to get through some doors. He felt the strain in the boards and the concavity he created when he sat on his bed. It creaked and moaned. His cock was entirely ambivalent about all of this, meanwhile, and it had been silent for far too long. Jason’s balls had been churning non-stop and it was about time they get release. He tried to resist, but it was pointless. So he accepted it, tensing every muscle in his body as the ejaculate forced its way through his cock and drenched his shorts. Shit. That was his only pair. He took them off and started to look for new clothes. -- His hard on had not died down since he began following Jason. Which had posed a real problem, since he was basically sprinting from one hiding spot to the next trying to keep up with this Goliath. Wallace was unaccustomed to stalking. It made him feel a little uneasy. But this was not something you saw every day. He could even convince himself it was journalism if he didn’t think too hard. Which was easy, considering he kept leaking pre like a broken faucet. There was not a lot of time for fixing rationalizations between spurts. In spite of his uncomfortable erection, he found Jason rather easy to follow. It might have had something to do with the fact that he was approaching King Kong status or that he seemed to be blissfully unaware of his surroundings, but Wallace never lost sight of Jason. He wondered how many people had followed him in a similar manner. Though let’s be honest, it probably wasn’t that many. He pushed up his coke bottle glasses and unbuttoned the first button of his plaid shirt. The running joke was that he had raided Urkel’s closet but left his brains behind. Coworkers can be so kind. He pulled out the binoculars that were fortuitously located in his backpack. He never imagined that lizard hunting could prove to be so…lucrative. Yeah, that was the word. And boy was it fucking lucrative. By the time he had adjusted to a position where he could see most of the room Jason was in, the hulking monster had left his Gap for Giants clothes on the bed and began to rummage through his wardrobe. He pulled out a blue tee shirt with a video game character on it that looked like it was sized for toddlers in his gorilla hands. And then he tried to put it on. It was almost comical. Emphasis on almost. Wallace’s cock clearly had a different opinion. The shirt started to rip before Jason could even get his arm through one of the sleeves. By the time the other arm made it through, the shirt had already been transformed into a tank top. A lousy one, too; it barely even reached his abs. Meanwhile his pecs were practically suffocating with the tightness of the fabric. He laughed. And as he laughed he came all over the floor. Fucking ridiculous. Although Wallace wasn’t really in position to be critical right now. He wasn’t quite sure of when he came. He only felt it in his pants sometimes afterwards. Journalism at its finest. Jason’s laughter halted abruptly and was replaced with a stuporous state. Wallace could have sworn that a blue glow came over his eyes. After a few moments of drool-laden daydreaming, Jason grabbed his game boy and a Gatorade and ran out the door. Wallace was forced to follow, pants drenched in cum, binoculars swinging on his thin shoulders. -- Jason had hoped to spend a little more time on his own before they called him back. But it sounded pretty important. He hoped he wasn’t going to explode or grow extra limbs anywhere. They would probably laugh at him for saying shit like that. Jason realized half way down the street that he had forgotten his clothes. He had honestly only noticed when his stiff cock met the breeze. A few minutes later he was back on track, fully clothed, spunk drying on his shorts as he briskly trekked back to the pick up spot. A fierce battle between his Venasaur and a Charizard kept his mind occupied while he made his long journey back out to the desert (though really, it was only a mile). He had meant to bring Pokemon Yellow instead of Pokemon Red, but it would have to do. By the time he left his neighborhood, he had grown tired of his clothes. It was approaching 100 degrees anyhow. How could you blame him? So he ripped them off with one hand, never letting go of the Gameboy with the other. They would give him new ones, probably. -- Wallace started getting hard again approximately the same time that Jason’s clothes hit the ground. His glutes bounced as Wallace watched, and their metronomic, perfectly controlled motion was almost hypnotic. Wallace would have stayed captivated by their mesmerizing rhythm if Jason’s calves had not stolen his attention. Bellies like diamonds, it was hard to imagine he was not moving the earth every time he took a step. And if that wasn’t enough, the broad curvature of his lats swayed back and forth, accentuating their impossible size while each little back muscle flexed individually to highlight the definition. Wallace could have stared for hours, but Jason stopped rather suddenly in the middle of nowhere. Wallace couldn’t see any conspicuous landmarks, but Jason turned off his Gameboy and was clearly ready to ascend back to wherever he came from. And so Wallace ran. He ran faster than he ever had in his life, leaving his backpack and binoculars behind. His little lungs and legs burned in the desert heat, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to give up. By the time Jason turned around, Wallace was already on him, clinging his relatively tiny waist. Jason was amused. He grabbed Wallace by the back of his collar and lifted him up. It was kind of like picking up a cat by its scruff. Jason couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy it, just a little. Watching the little man squirm in his grasp, knowing that there was absolutely nothing he could do. And then the beam came down, and off they went. *Zap* And within a few seconds it was like they’d never been there.
  14. Partly inspired by true events : P Part I Part II Part III – All The Way It was hard to consolidate beauty as I knew it before with the erotic sensations that were now constant and overwhelming. The sun shot red rays across the sky in protest of the coming night, and the trees watched silently, their leaves soaking up the last of the usually sporadic sunlight. I felt the pump in my arms, fibers straining against the weight. Normally I would take solace in the calmness of the twilight, in the gentle passage of time between phases of the day. But fuck, I was huge. It was hard to focus on anything else. The tree branch began to bend as I lifted myself up towards the sky. It wasn’t iron, but it would have to do. It was easy. With just a simple flex my will was transformed into action. Nothing could stop me. I rested my chin on the bending branch. The sun set. I had grown twice since last night. I didn’t have the desire for anything else. I worked out upon waking up and then again after I ate and rested. I bought new clothes in the interim too. The others fit me way too tightly, making it almost uncomfortable to breathe. Every motion was exaggerated by the fabric stretching against my hardened stature. Although by now I didn’t really care. I was out here without a shirt on. People could look at me if they wanted to. I was going to be gone soon, and they would not recognize me except for my hair. I lifted my chin from the branch and started to let myself down slowly. My bare feet descended to the grass, toes touching first and then heels falling softly. I couldn’t help but flex each of my swollen muscles, starting with my calves. The impressive cliff they formed created a shadow even in the fading light. Next it was quads. Big, bloated, and cut to the nines, they strained my already exasperated shorts. And I didn’t even have to flex them very hard. It didn’t help that my glutes stole most of the fabric, forming firm, round globes that eclipsed my lower legs. I ran my hands up and across my abs, each brick bringing my erection to greater attention, and finished with a double bi pose. That one was my favorite. It put the power that lay just beneath those titanic arms on display so effortlessly. My dick now rose to full mast, my shorts struggling to hold together. It felt good to be a man. I went back inside to the guy I had just fucked. He was tight, wiry, but nothing like me. He was face down, ass up. The smell of the candle I had left burning mixed with the smell of his skin as I ran my tongue down his back and up to his neck. I turned him around to face me and folded my legs on each side of him so that I sat comfortably on his abs. I let my body linger there, imposing, towering over his. My pecs hung heavy in the bottom frame of my vision. I bounced them, just because I could. I looked straight into his eyes, almond-colored, framed by long, dark, curly hair. I loved the way he tried to move but could not make much of an impression. He blushed a little bit. He almost reminded me of myself a few days ago. What a different life that was. I moved closer and kissed him, gently. I could feel his body tense with pleasure under me. “Where’s your shirt?” I asked. “On the side of the bed,” he said. I casually reached for it and felt how light and small it was in my hands. “Do you mind if I try it on?” I said. He nodded, trying to maintain his composure and pretend this was a normal request. He was doing a subpar job of it. Who could blame him? I knew I had picked a good one. A muscle junkie through and through. And here I was to provide the fix. I lifted it over my head and from the very start I could feel how little of my body was going to squeeze into this tiny polo. By the time my arm reached the sleeve I got stuck. I fumbled awkwardly for a minute, wrestling this puny piece of fabric over my muscular frame. He giggled, and I allowed it. Finally I was pulling it down over my abs. The fabric wrapped up each ab individually, like they had been covered in cellophane. I ran my hand over it just to feel how tight I stretched the fabric. I noticed as I looked down that the buttons sat undone and my upper chest was popping through. I motioned to button them up, but there was obviously no way that they were going to come together. I smiled down at him. “You’ve gotta catch up, dude. I can’t even button up your shirt.” Throb, pulse. I lifted up my arms almost in auto-pilot. I heard a tear. Fuck, if I wasn’t hard already. His dick responded too, jolting on the crevice of my ass. I felt around to know what part of the shirt had torn. It was the underside of the seam where the sleeve meets the body. “I’ll lend you one of mine,” I said, unapologetically. I left out that most of my shirts had succumb to a similar fate when I had tried to find just one that fit my massive frame. I tried as hard as I could to split the shirt around the bicep. I wasn’t quite big enough yet. But I would be. It was only a matter of time. Damn stretchy fabric. But fuck if I didn’t look good filling them up. Every last inch of it. Approaching eighteen, last I had counted. With that, the show was over. I lifted the shirt off, this time with care to avoid the clumsy nature of its donning. More tears, here and there. I didn’t bother to avoid making them, it didn’t matter anymore. I got off of him and lifted him up, putting my arms under his knees and grabbing his torso. His arms clasped about my neck, hands reaching down my back. His hands were soft, and I could feel them navigate over the muscles in my back, exploring every bulge, solid, strong. I sat on the edge of the bed, my arms the only thing preventing him falling from the ground. I kissed him, in reassurance that I was not going to drop him. His cock pressed against the tight, warm flesh of my abs, and his hands migrated over to my pecs, circling my nipples with his fingers. That sensation was more erogenous than I expected, and I almost let him slip. His body falling away from mine startled me, and I pulled him close again. I took my cock, throbbing and begging for release, and pressed it right up against his hole. Pre smeared across it, and I started stroking up and down. I wanted release. I grabbed him tighter and began to lift his ass up and down across my cock, my arms getting tired and swollen and all the more pumped as I kept using him like he was a fleshjack. Before I knew it I was already about to cum. I lifted him a little bit higher and brought my cock between us, cum spurting onto my chest and up to his chin. “Now it’s your…” I touched his dick and within a few seconds he was gone. His cum only managed to splash up against my abs, but it was appreciated nonetheless. I couldn’t help but grin as his face was lost in the ecstasy of orgasm. I stood up, holding him, and walked over to my dresser. I set him on top and pulled out a shirt, handing it to him with a towel. “That’s for you.” I gave one of those cheesy jock-like winks, and turned around to head to the bathroom. I could feel his glare as my solid, round cheeks fell up and down with my stride. I gave them a good flex (and threw in some calves too) before I left his view. It was time for a run. -- An hour later I was outside. The night air brushed against my skin, my entire torso free and exposed. Darkness was my only company for most of the path until I reached the more suburban part of town. I was alone even though my path was now lit. Hardly anyone roamed about at this hour, and they wouldn’t have recognized me. But I wanted them to see anyways. To recognize me for what I had become. My footsteps fell heavy on the ground and made echoes on the still houses, but I was hardly any slower than before. It wasn’t long before I made it to Charlie’s place. I stopped under a streetlamp, the light reflecting the prodigious results of my transformation. He was in his garage, working on some old beat up truck that looked like it was from the 1950s. No one else seemed to be home. Despite the noisy footfall, he failed to notice me. I watched him for a moment. His skin was dark under the fluorescent bulb hanging over him, his back solid and clinging tightly to his wife beater. Every motion showed a muscle working, displayed the effortlessness that he carried himself with. He pulled what must have been the oil dipstick out of its place, and the various muscles in his arms flexed to form dark shadows beneath them. I felt a flush of embarrassment that I did not think I would ever feel again. “Hey,” I barked clumsily. He paused for a moment and wiped his hands before he turned around. He stared directly at me for a moment, the radiant jade of his eyes investigating my presence. His brow folded in the slightest confusion, as if he were trying to decipher someone’s face in an old photograph. And then he smiled. Teeth white as an ivory tomb. “Sup, little man.” Shit, he beat me to it. Did he recognize me? Or did he say that to everyone who passed by? Now that his initial confusion had passed, there was no hint of alarm or concern on his face. I started walking towards him, trying not to let my confidence falter as I stepped out of the streetlamp’s light. I tried to convince myself there was no reason to let my conviction falter. By now I must have been bigger than he was. Stronger. Nonetheless, he didn’t flinch. Neither his stance nor his expression wavered at my approach. And then we were face to face. He leaned on the grill of his car, relaxed. “What brings you around here?” he said casually. I didn’t really know. “Just out for a run,” was what came out of my mouth. “You seem to have been through a lot in the past few days,” he said. He lifted his arm, and without thinking I grabbed it. He did not seem to mind; if anything, he was amused. I held my hand still too, at first. His calm demeanor startled me. I just needed to break his confidence; I had to make him know just how much stronger I was. I pushed, and he gave just a little. The thick bellies of my triceps knotted and I could see his forearm tighten up and strain against the force of my powerful arm, the thick calluses on my hands rubbing rough against his soft skin. Still, forcing his arm back was more difficult than I anticipated. I was winning, but just barely. Meanwhile I could feel the blood rush to my cock even though I was using all of my strength. “Say uncle,” I said. I wanted him to admit it. Without changing his expression, he opened his mouth and his face leaned in towards mine. I almost expected a kiss. Instead I heard music. Even though it must have come from him, it sounded rich and deep as though it were another person’s voice. It resonated all around me like a bell, sonorous and pure despite its depth. Between long notes, the melody rang with strange sounds that were akin to words that I did not recognize. All of my anxiety and rivalry faded as the strange tune resounded in my ears. My vision started to become hazy. His golden arms blurred into the fluorescent lit background, his soft lips disappearing as everything began to go dark. I felt my head fall on his chest. It hummed with the bell’s tune. I could not stay awake any longer. -- I awoke as the sun was rising. My head was still foggy, but not unpleasantly so, as I lifted out of my near comatose state. My body was similarly sluggish and numb. I felt clumsy as I attempted to orchestrate my way off the ground, feet stumbling in the grass. I also discovered a ringing in my ears, but low and distant-sounding. It faded slowly as clarity came back to me, my body regaining its composure. Beams of sunlight loftily fell through the morning fog and landed on my silken skin. I had not changed. I gave my pecs a quick bounce just to be sure. Still massive. Memories came back from last night slowly and sporadically, like mud through a sieve. The details were mostly unclear, but my awakening here on the ground meant that I had lost. Despite all of the changes I had gone through, Charlie was still stronger than me. My heart fell into my chest, full of anguish. I could not even remember how he managed to subdue me. But I had an idea on how to fix that. I reached into my pocket to find my car keys. There was a note inside. It said: “Next time, make a better wish.” Whatever that meant. I was fortunate enough to see Delilah’s car leave as I turned the corner on her street. I didn’t know how to explain to her what had happened or my plan, and I wasn’t about to be talked out of it. I parked at the end of the block and walked as casually as I could feign up to her doorstep. The tacky porcelain frog that stood out harshly from the otherwise bare porch revealed her spare keys. Luckily, they held one that opened her basement. I threw it into the grass, not taking the time to remark how light it was for me now. The basement was even more cluttered than the last time I had been inside. Old musty books full of pseudoscientific literature and what looked like very serious scholarly articles littered the tables and floor. Clearly Delilah had devoted most of her free time to discovering what they were and how to make sure they didn’t kick the bucket in her care. However she did it, it was working; they seemed just as irreverent and indignant as ever. My arrival only seemed to encourage their frenzied buzzing. Inside the dull plastic box, she had left a small bag of blood as their only company. An iron meal for an iron bug. I paused for a moment. No, this was what I wanted. The risks were irrelevant. I needed to get bigger. Bigger than him. Bigger than anyone. That was all that mattered. I cautiously opened the container and slid my hand quickly over the opening as I removed the lid. It was almost instant, the sting. My hand clenched; fuck, it hurt. But unlike our first encounter, it remained stuck in my skin. I could feel it. A warm, almost hot sensation emanated from the sting. Like a hot summer day running through my blood, up my beefy arms and into the rest of my formidable body. It flowed through me, saturating me with whatever chemical or enzyme or magic flowed from its metallic proboscis. It felt as though I was going through the most intense workout I ever had while standing completely still. It was completing me. I was strong, alive, vibrant, unstoppable. Eventually the iron bug dropped from my hand, satiated. It scuttled away lazily, finally ending its fervent rampage against its impregnable prison. It seemed to shine crimson beneath its metallic sheen. I slid the lid back on, careful not to let out the other bug that was still madly trying to escape. Attempting to head towards the exit, I found myself dizzy with euphoria and my body was somewhat difficult to move. My flesh felt hard to the touch, like an insane pump from a non-existent workout. My blood was still warm, marked by a pleasant tingling. I don’t really remember getting back to my house. I only remember putting the keys back under the frog and somehow finding myself lying under the sheets in my bed, wrapped up like a cocoon. My blood was still warm, and the muscles beneath my skin were unbelievably tense, pumped, and changing into something even harder. My cock matched them in turgor, fighting for attention. But I was too busy wrapped up in the novel sensations to pay it any attention. Soon the heat began to make me dizzy, and I started to drift off. My eyes shut. I smiled. It worked. I couldn’t wait to find out what I had done.
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Guidelines, Terms of Use, & Privacy Policy.
We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..