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And so, with permission from newthirty, the words In the first century BC, the Roman Empire dominated the majority of the European continent including the modern day nation of France and as Caesar made his way to conquer Britain, he would famously state to his generals "Alea Jacta Est". However, what he did not let on was that in the northwestern part of the country, two villages still held out against the Romans. One of them was a very famous village and would become known throughout the world to both Gauls and Romans alike as "that village full of indomitable Gauls", the other village however was less well known but for the Romans that were laying seige to it they knew that it would only take a single word from their chief and they would be facing the wrong end of Pluto's judgement. Legionary Minimus, one of the newer recruits to the Roman army, was therefore bored stiff. Ever since he had arrived from Rome he'd been told to just sit tight and wait for their relief, which was no good at all. He was raised by his father, a former member of the glorious tenth legion, the legion that delivered Hispania into the Roman yoke, to "ensure that the glory of Rome was resisted by nothing" and having to spend all day doing nothing got his wick up. So when he was able to slip out of the camp and do some scouting, he took the chance. However, he hadn't reckoned with how big the forest around the village was and soon had no option but to answer the call of nature and so finding something that resembled a collection of stones, he relived himself. "OI!" shouted a voice behind him, just as he finished and the legionary came face to face with one of the villagers who was clearly in bad mood. "What do you think you're doing?" he bellowed, "Would you let me relieve myself on the steps of the Senate?" The legionary quaked in his sandals. He had never met the villagers before and yet knew precisely who had grabbed him. It was Grobelix, the biggest, strongest and most muscular villager. As the Gaul held the soldier at arm's length, Minimus remembered something one of the soldiers had told him. "Watch out for that Grobelix bloke, he's so strong that he once managed to throw an oak tree as far as you could throw a silver birch!" "WELL" said Grobelix, "I'm waiting!" Minimius was too scared to answer and so Grobelix decided to explain. "This is a dolemn" he said, "it is a place of reverance to us Gauls, legend has it that under these dolemns the gods are buried. This one is dedicated to the god of our tribe, Toutatis, god of thunder and you come along and...and..." and with that Grobelix bent his free arm and as it bulged, Minimus started to plead for mercy. As he did, the Gaul noted the legionary was still showing down below and as he examined it, he couldn't help but burst out laughing. Just to make sure he wasn't imagining, he pinched it and the legionary screamed in pain. Placing the legionary on the ground, the Gaul chuckled as he pulled his own from his breeches and said "That's what we have" and then had an idea. Taking off his breeches, he slammed the legionary against the dolemn and said "Now, let me show you how it really works" Minimus screamed in agony but it was no good and soon Grobelix was having his merry way with him. After several moments, the legionary couldn't stand any more and with a scream of "Mercy" he blacked out. As Grobelix removed himself from the legionary, he tutted, "I've a good mind to write to Caesar and ask for some more" and with that he tossed the legionary away and he landed on top of the dolemn as Grobelix turned around adding, "What I wouldn't give for some of those gladiators I hear about, then I'd have some real fun, by Toutatis!" As soon as he had invoked the god of thunder, there was a rumble in the sky and without warning, a thunderbolt crashed down striking the Roman. Grobelix turned and witnessed the granting of his wish as Minimus screamed in agony as his body started to grow. First, the metal around his chest started to break, then the tunic he wore ripped, and slowly but surely he started to smile. He felt powerful, stronger than Ursus, more muscular than Hercules and as his body broke free of the last vestiges of Roman civilisation he roared. Grobelix, still stunned by the legionary's transformation, gasped "By Toutatis" and almost in answer, the Roman roared "NO, BY JUPITER" as the transformation completed and the legionary, now gladiator jumped to the ground. "So" he said, in a voice now several octaves deeper, "you think you can tackle a gladiator then? Even one with this!" and pointed to his, which was now at least three times as long and twice as thick as it was, "I think not!" and with that punched Grobelix with such force that the now naked giant had no problem placing the fallen Gaul onto his shoulders and chuckling said "Now, what can I do with the strongest Gaul in the world and this monster?"

The Squire Story by Muscl4life PART I I was still attending the horses when I heard the commotion coming from inside the inn; making my way inside that building at once, before they wrecked the entire place. “Give us the rooms already!” Sir Florian demanded with a vigorous punch against the wooden counter. The deep, masculine voice thundered inside the reception room. His emerald green eyes flared with anger, the 6’2” large heroic frame seemed to grow bigger with each passing second, the full plate tainted by the blood of different foes and beasts, such display of knightly wrath surely scared the innkeeper. “You’d better listen to him, boy. You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side.” The melodic voice tone belonged to the charming 5’10” mercenary half-elf named Ansel, the 225 pounds muscular mercenary who casually cleaned under his nails with an enormous dagger. The young chubby man tried to explain once again, which only increased the distress levels of my companions. “Forgive me once again, noble sires, but I’m afraid we don’t have any available room. It is the Summer Solstice and we have many guests coming from all over the Freelands…WHOA!”. “I’ll sleep in the fucking stables; just give me food and ale!” The humongous man said easily lifting the villager from the ground and holding him several inches from the ground, his tiny feet dangling in the air. “Please… Rhett put the poor man on the ground. I’ll take care of everything.” I said very calmly to the 6’6” 350 pounds muscular barbarian, placing my hand over the powerful arm that so easily carried the poor man, making sure to keep his easily flaring temper under check. The young, boyish face of the brawny blond lad was sour; our latest endeavors took a lot from all of us, and he sincerely just wanted to rest. Despite being the largest and strongest of our group, Rhett was barely one year older than I was, and he really does not have great conversational skills. I gently smiled to my immense companion for a few moments until he finally took a deep breath, which inflated his already impressive naked muscular chest even more, and placed the short stacked body of the innkeeper back where he belonged. “Thank you noble master…” He whispered to me. “It’s me who must apologize, sir. I am sorry for taking it so harshly on you, but my colleagues and I have been through a horrendous ordeal. We are travelling through this town towards Manachia, after fulfilling a personal request from Baron Faulkner.” I gently laid on his sweaty shaking hand the Baron’s personal sigil, trying to reassure the agitated little man that nothing bad would happen to his establishment. “Baron Faulkner, the ruler of Manachia? Are you under his services noble sires?” His voice tone and bodily expression changed almost immediately to the sound of that name. “I wish I had such great honor, but I am just your friend Korben, the squire to the legendary Sir Florian, the Valliant; and these are his fellow companions Ansel and Rhett. These brave warriors of justice, these true heroes, attending to the Baron’s personal request to free his people from the menace of the Red Warlock at the Forsaken Mountains, have heroically vanquished the nasty villain once and for all!” I said the words carefully, as I produced the severed red haired head that sir Florian cut from the enemy’s body with his blessed bastard sword. The innkeeper’s jaw dropped as he saw the very face who has tormented that region for many years. “Sacred Lights of Lunya, you have truly defeated him!” He exclaimed at once. “I am only but a squire to Sir Florian and a mere witness to the prowess of The Valliant Knight, Ansel Swiftblade and the powerful barbarian fighter Rhett. They are travelling back to meet the Baron to receive his gratitude in a regal feast, and I am sure you understand they need to look presentable to his Excellency, don’t you?” “Praised be you noble heroes!” The poor man vividly shook the hands of Sir Florian. The young hero thanked in a discrete manner, following his knightly code of conduct; Ansel chuckled, blinking at me while Rhett just shook his head, tired of the complex, frivolous ways we handled things in fancy places. At that point, I knew things would work out just fine. The innkeeper was more than happy to dump any guest he had in order to accommodate “such legendary heroes”. He immediately placed Sir Florian in the Baron’s permanent reserved room, and asked for the rest of us to wait while he prepared our accommodations. “I need to bathe. Bring hot water to my room.” Sir Florian said to the innkeeper as he went upstairs. “I guess we common people will wait in the tavern, right big boy?” Ansel gently pointed the enormous Rhett in the direction and the massive barbarian lad just grunted. “I want my food and ale!” He said, still in a bad mood, but I knew he would eventually revert into his cheerful spirits once he satiated his hunger. I took care of the further details with the innkeeper and explained him that it was a squire’s duty to make sure his knight is well rest and clean, so I carried the hot water bucket to the Baron’s room, gently closing the door behind me. “You shouldn’t have lied.” My knight’s deep manly voice was harsh, but I knew he was not mad at me. “I am sorry if I had to embellish things, but I didn’t lie milord. You have saved these people from the Red Warlock menace.” I filled the tub with hot water and tested its temperature. “The Baron never said he would pay for our expenses. He promised us a reward if we brought the head of the warlock to him.” “Which you most certainly did, noble sire. The Baron’s filthy rich and I am sure he will be more than happy to pay for our stay here; the whole county is celebrating your arrival in the streets. You are their hero!” “No one should be celebrated for killing another human, not even a despicable man like that horrible evildoer.” Sir Florian removed his winged helmet and I smiled upon seeing the beauty of his cascaded raven black mane free. “Your heart is equally noble as your soul is brave, milord.” The tanned skin color only complimented his beautiful emerald green eyes and manly thick eyebrows framed them to perfection. “Korben, we are alone in here. You do not need to speak so formally. You can be pretty annoying with such courtesies, my friend.” He said turning his vast back to me so I could help him to take off his heavy armor. “I apologize, milord.” I said while undoing the laces of the armor and removing each part very carefully, feeling the strong stench of sweat from the muscular body underneath the steel plates. “You apologize too much.” He turned around and picked me in his muscular arms, easily lifting my own 5’11” 165 pounds from the ground like I was a mere toddler. His kiss was delicate, gentle, passionate and yet so warm. I moaned, feeling my body pressing so hard against his muscles. The worst part of wearing such heavy armor was that no one could actually see how muscular and powerful Florian truly was underneath the steel. Fortunately, I could see him in the glory of his nakedness, the hard smooth muscular physique pulsing with manly power. “I miss you…” He repeated feverishly while I hugged his thin waist with my legs. “No more than I miss you, my liege…” I replied, jumping back to the ground and walking towards the tub. “Come, let me take care of my hero.” Florian seemed languid of passion; he looked at my enormous hard member with hunger and lust in his eyes. I felt so proud, after all I am barely 18 years of age and already my manhood stands among the biggest of the nation, if not the biggest. The thick, long monster of caramel hardness throbbing underneath my squire’s attire. I opened my flier to let the 15 inches long manhood throb freely for my knight to see. “You seem even bigger than the last time!” He whispered and he sat inside the tub, feeling his huge muscles sore from the latest battles. I gingerly smiled and replied “Only because I miss you that much, Florian the Valliant!” I soaped the cloth and gently cleaned the huge muscles of my powerful hero, making sure I took great care of his muscular arms that maneuvered his immense heavy sword with such finesse, his glorious chest that seemed even bigger outside the confinements of the armor. His own cock was impressive 9 inches long, 5 inches thick manhood, which I cherished tremendously. “I still don’t understand why we have to drag those morons along with us! They are just sell-swords. I am the servant of the Chalice and you are my squire, we have nothing to do with them.” Florian once again complained about Ansel and Rhett’s presence in our party. “They are loyal and trustworthy, my knight. With their help your victory over the Red Warlock was surely smoother, since Rhett took care of his violent minions and Ansel’s uncanny nimbleness kept the warlock’s Golem distracted while you took his head off.” “Well…they were useful indeed. I guess I can tolerate their uncivilized behavior a little longer, for you of course.” He said reaching for my kiss while I massaged his muscular deltoids. I soaped his immense body and rinsed carefully, eager to suck on his hard cock as well. I removed my clothes, my own caramel skin; result of the miscegenation of different tribes all over Freelands looked gorgeous against Florian’s bronze tone. He hugged me, looking at the reflected image on the mirror. “You are so beautiful, young Korben. I should just take you as mine…” “I am yours, my liege. However, you are a Knight of the Chalice, and you must serve Freelands. When you are released from your duty…” I repeated the same excuse as I sucked on his gorgeous uncut cock and he soon felt his own pleasure building up. Despite being very hung, I also have excellent blow job skills, and it didn’t take much until the brave hero fed me his royal manly juices down my throat, which I enjoyed tremendously. “I need you, Korben…damn I still need you so very much!” He grunted as he felt his lust went beyond orgasm, he needed to be rode like the amazing stallion he truly was. I toweled his immense body up, dying every inch of his rugged muscular physique. Then, I gently pointed to the comfortable bed. The lustful knight waddled to the bed, lying on his muscular back, hoisting his massive pillar muscle legs as I quickly assumed my dutiful place inside his glorious hole. “Oh…so huge…” He moaned as my massive head forced its way inside his butt. The friction between his muscular butt and my hard cock made my lust grow, I pushed deeper and felt the weight of those muscular legs on my shoulders as I slowly penetrated his ass. Soon I was pounding his muscular butt in slow, long movements, alternating between harsh fast moments, which only made him moan in agony and ecstasy. At the same time, I knew my cock got harder and closer from blowing. I held his legs up high and fucked him with all the might my lithe body could muster, which made my Valiant shiver in his loud orgasm. “Damn…it was…so good!” He paced, kissing me as we both felt our bodies still moving in the same sensual rhythm, our hearts beating in the same compass, enjoying the powerful moment we just shared. “It’s always a pleasure to serve you, my liege…” I said while kissing his neck and retrieved my long cock from his wet manhole. He smiled back at me and laid on the bed. After such orgasmic experience, his huge muscles felt heavy and tired, so he finally went for a well-deserved rest. I knew that Sir Florian’s grandmother – the fabled rich Duchess of Eagle Crest – would soon try again to engage him with another young damsel of a very noble House. However, like all the previous times it happened, he would invoke his knightly code of conduct to “continue on his duties to the Freelands”, and so I could fuck his noble ass for a long period. Once again dressed, I went back to reception to get the key to my own room, which was the most modest of them, according to my own request. I closed the door behind me and carefully retrieved the objects I collected at the warlock’s tower while my noble friends were not paying attention. I am Sir Florian’s squire, but my greatest dream is to go to Arcane Academy at Rhtyak Valley, something that only the richest families in the Freelands can afford. Hence, I have to found my own education, and although squiring for an absurdly rich family like Valliant Knight’s is a great start, I also have to make side gains to keep my savings high. The advantage of being a esquire is that no one is suspicious about my sorcery skills. I can muster spells and prepare rituals without drawing too much attention to myself, which also gives the opportunity to collect less obvious, but much more valuable items during our adventures. Once Sir Florian conveniently beheaded the warlock’s body, I quickly removed all the rings, pendants, scrolls and other magical items I could from his still shaking body, because I knew Ansel’s elven blood would let him notice the magic aura from those items, and I was not in a particularly sharing mood. I had over 15 items of great power, which I could now calmly investigate. The identification ritual would still take a few hours to reveal the hidden names and abilities of the items, but one thing in particular caught my attention. The Dragonheart. I knew as soon as I laid eyes on the small gem disguised as an amulet, that the Red Warlock drained his uncanny powers from that particular item. I carefully analyzed the delicate piece, which the malignant spell caster used to enhance his spells to overwhelming heights. A Dragonheart is originally the central scale covering the wyrm’s chest, standing precisely over the center of his immense heart. As the dragon grows from wyrmling to a Great Wyrm his imbued magical abilities increase tremendously, and this particular scale is drenched in so much magical power that it becomes a jewel, capable of bestowing uncanny abilities. Dragonheart stones can be used in several devices, but mostly in transmutation spells and rituals. Many alchemists report the could brew Ultimate Power potions using powdered Dragonheart as the main vessel, which would be a dangerous thing to obtain because of it can be highly unstable. I admired the precious thing; it really made the Red Warlock a tremendous adversary, even to the combined powers of my three heroes. Fortunately, unbeknownst to them, I was able to use a telekinetic spell to retrieve the Dragonheart apparatus from the enemy right before Sir Florian unleashed the final blow. “Korben…open up, I need to speak with you at once!” Ansel’s sweet voice tone indicated he was actually really pissed. “Erm…could it be a little later sire? I am so exhausted from everything…” I said, trying to buy me some time as I hid my precious treasures. “Listen you little thief, I know you cleaned the body, I want my share or I’ll tell on you to that stupid knight you fuck!” I understood the words he spoke in a very particular elven dialect, which sounded like whistles and leaves carried by the wind. The mercenary sounded furious. What the hell should I do? (to be continued)

Hey all, It's a rainy day here and instead of working, I decided to look through some of my old stories. I mostly lurk and crop up once in a blue moon to write (all in the old forum). This will be my first story here, re-posts by others excluded. I originally posted "My Pendant" back in April of 2014. It had two parts but I only ever posted one. Both are short so, I'm re-posting the original post and including the never-before-posted second part. I hope you enjoy! Part 1 I felt the pendant hanging on its thin fabric around my neck. Its heavy weight always comforted me, reminding me that it was something special. Nobody could say how it worked but those who’d discovered its secrets often tried feverishly, and unsuccessfully, to obtain it. I treasured the pendant and I kept with me always. I sat alone in a comfortable chair, looking out the wide window of my spacious room. The sun had begun to set casting a yellow haze across the world. This had become the best part of my day, the moments before my evening began. My mind wandered. Thoughts of dozens upon dozens of men flashed through my head, all beautiful men I’d slept with since finding the pendant. My cock responded instinctively, hardening in my loose sweats. Some of the men had come to me, some of them I had found and surprised. Either way, my sex life went from dwindling with age to expanding rapidly in the past few months. The aquamarine hue of my pendant twinkled in the light of the setting sun, making it shine brightly against the pale skin of my bare chest. I looked down on it as I reclined, breathing a heavy sigh. The gift I’d received did little for my own mediocre physique. At thirty four years of age, I’d given up trying to look my best. I left that for those in their twenties, helping out where I could. My arms were too small and my legs too thin. But that didn’t stop men from throwing themselves at me. The pendant filled my mind with a dull thumping, telling me that it wanted release. It wanted release for me. It granted me a power that, as far as I knew, could only be mastered by me. We had a connection, the pendant and me. Maybe it had to do with how it came to be in my possession; maybe others did not have the necessary concentration. Whatever the reason, the pendant made me special, and I loved it. As the sun set behind the distant hills, my wondering thoughts subsided. The cold air was beginning to prickle my skin. I got up and busied myself with preparations, throwing on a shirt and changing into tapered blue jeans. "Tonight will be fun," I told myself, examining the tall, slender figure in the mirror. I ran my fingers across the curly crimson hair atop my head, pushing it into place. I smoothed the ruffles from my shirt and pulled down so it fell tight against my small shoulders. Icy blue eyes glanced across my reflection approvingly. "Yes," I mused, "tonight will be fun, indeed." It didn’t take long to span the several blocks to the nearest gay bar. Sting, it was called. I’d moved close not too long ago. The pendant compelled me to move, though quite indirectly. I felt it thumping in my mind as it did almost constantly now. It needed to be near this mecca of men. I was all too happy to oblige, given my recently hyperactive sex drive. Both the college and the gym were within walking distance, making Sting the club of choice for hot twenty-something year old men and thus a favorite spot of my own. Most people stopped their conversations and gazed at me longingly as I entered. Firm, muscled bodies filled the already bustling crowd. Cocks hardened all around the room merely from my presence. I nodded here and there, acknowledging some of my better work but engaging nobody past friendly cordiality. Tonight would be special. The pendant agreed. I seated myself in a far off corner of the bar, watching people slowly return to their conversations. Some fretted, debating internally whether to approach my poorly upholstered vinyl booth. None did. They knew by my posture that I would have none of their attentions tonight. I instead gazed about the room, seeking out my next new find. As the evening grew long, more people crammed themselves into the confined spaces around the bar. Those who knew me fought for even one of my passing glances, hopeful of receiving gifts without upfront cost. But wistful expressions fell on most as my gaze passed by. Then, finally, a bit past my fifth free drink, I spotted him. All of the largely muscled men in the room took no notice of him. He squeezed his wet glass of intoxicating liquid tightly with both hands, moving his pretty brown eyes here and there to survey the beautiful men, happily oblivious of my lustful glance. His dark brown hair was patted forward with too much texture, and his low blue V-neck shirt exposed the beginnings of firm but far from significant pecs. Though short, his frame was thick. He certainly weighed more than I did but much less than most of the men in attendance. At any other club, he would have had a much better luck finding a guy. But he chose to visit Sting; a poor choice for anybody but the most beautiful of muscular men. I got up, leaving my most recent drink untouched. The loud noise of dozens of conversations found a lull as I made my way easily through the heavy crowd. The man in blue chatted noisily with his friends, apparently unfazed by the abrupt change from loud cacophony to mellow hum. Eyes danced about me frantically, focusing not on me but calculating my trajectory and possible destinations. At last I came to a halt behind a back that stretched wider than my own narrow frame. The thumping in my mind hastened and beat wildly, now. The pendant agreed with my choice. I tapped him on the shoulder. "Hello there." He turned at first with a smile but quickly began to glower. A glance up and down my body confirmed that I was, indeed, not what he planned for his evening out. "Uhm, hi," he said, turning hastily back towards his friends, who seemed to share his focused opinion. I stood unmoved and unconcerned. Those accompanying him shared furtive glances, trying not to smirk at my continued presence. The man of my evening’s desire continued to frown outside of my gaze, staring at nobody in particular, hoping that I’d simply go away. It didn’t take long, though, before an intrepid man of astonishing beauty leaned forward and whispered in his ear. At first, he seemed surprised to have such a specimen of muscle, a truly superior model among the fitness inclined, speaking to him so directly. "Do what?" said the man in blue, looking very confused. "He suggests that you come with me," I said blatantly, and the many heads focused on our conversation nodded in agreement. The pendant didn’t provide me with any abilities to affect the thoughts or actions of others. It only granted the ability to give them beauty, size, and strength. If he rejected my advances, it would be his loss. His friends look bemused as several other specimens of male perfection swooped in to block their negative accord. I’d developed quite a reputation and the attractive multitudes were ready and willing to attain another among their ranks. "Go with him," said some. "You won’t regret it," said others. "It’ll be amazing," said still more. The man in blue turned to look at me once more, puzzlement overwhelming his countenance. "Would you like to come with me? I don’t live far," I said, "just around the corner." "Don’t go," said one of his friends, but became quickly overruled as scores of attractive men pushed him (and me) towards the exit. Before he could resolve his surprise at having been thrust out onto the dark streets, he arrived in tow at my front door. "Nice place," he said, unsure of how he’d gotten himself into the apartment of a man about six years his senior and absolutely not his type. His utter bafflement reaffirmed that my choice was correct. "Sit down," I said. He let himself be led to my couch where he sat heartily on the plastic covered cushions. His eyes darted about, taking in his surroundings; nervous fingers fidgeted and crossed in his lap. "I’m Mitch," he said finally, apparently deciding that it would be best if I knew his name. "Hi Mitch," I said warmly, smiling down as him from my standing position. "Don’t be nervous, you’re safe. I bring a lot of guys back here and they all enjoy themselves. You met some of them on our way out of Sting." I’d said those exact lines before. This wasn’t the first, and it would not be the last time a strange man found himself unsure and anxious in my living room. "Do you want something to drink?" I said in a soft voice, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. "Uhm, no," he said, adding a quick "thank you" as an afterthought. "Well, then. Let’s get started," I said, taking off my shirt. He looked up at me with one eye arched, apparently re-thinking his situation. But before much more could be decided, I pulled off his loose fitting shoes and unbuttoned his tight fitting pants. "Tell me your desires," I said, pulling his jeans around decent sized thighs. Soft brown hairs ruffled lazily after being disturbed by the trailing waistband. My hands cupped his round calves as they slid past, pulling both legs free. "Tell you what?" he said, slightly taken aback by the unusual question. "Tell me your desires. I can help make them come true," I said, pulling the blue V-neck over his torso. His arms complied dutifully, fourteen-inch biceps rising to allow the shirt to be pulled past. I looked down at his tanned skin, taking in his small but solid pecs and visible six-pack. His size complemented his thick frame, looking nicely muscled with low body fat. "What do you want to know?" he said, continuing our conversation from moments before. "Everything," I said, leaning in to run my fingers along the soft skin from pecs to navel. "Uhm," he said, closing his eyes, "I like muscle. Big guys with big dicks." "And what else," I said, hooking two fingers under the elastic of his designer brand underwear. "Big arms," he said. "I like really big arms." I pulled, bringing his underwear up and over a cock that had just began to wake. It looked to be decent sized average, and cut. "Big arms? How big?" I said softly, trying to encourage his imagination. Sexy thoughts would help enlarge his slumbering member. "Really big," he said, getting into the mood. "Nineteen inches." "Only nineteen?" I said to him, bringing my mouth close to his hardening cock. The hot breath of my voice quickened his excitement, its head inching closer to his stomach with each heartbeat. "Ok, twenty!" he replied. I chuckled to myself at his modesty, confident in the knowledge that soon he’d be shouting an ever-expanding plethora of large and larger numbers. "And I like big dicks," he said, really getting into the discussion. "Eight inches," he spouted. His cock was almost fully hard. The pendant around my neck thumped loudly in my head, expectantly. I reached out my tongue and flicked it against the head of his dick. The soft brown hairs on his flat stomach shifted, a shiver running through him. "Oh, gods!" he bellowed. I had that effect on men. I took his cock into my mouth and began pumping gingerly in an up and down motion, flying my tongue along the back of his sensitive cock head. I watched him, taking a mental picture of his looks, trying my best to remember the fine details of the attractive yet nervous twenty-something year old man that I had brought into my apartment. Then I began. I pushed the thumping from my mind and focused it through his eager cock. He started to moan, feeling the pleasure of my hot mouth, not understanding or caring about the sudden noise in his head. His eyes remained closed, some distant muscle man flexing proudly in his thoughts as Mitch’s arms started to inflate. The satisfaction overwhelmed us both. He breathed heavily, enjoying the sensation of his dick being sucked. I reveled in the pleasure of the beat moving through my soul and into Mitch. Focusing, I willed his arms to expand. They pushed outward against the cool air of my living room, growing to seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and then twenty inches. Then I focused on his cock, pushing against the thumping in his mind, causing his decent six inches to grow. I felt it thicken and lengthen between my lips. I ran my tongue around its girth, savoring the feeling of it taking up more and more space in my anxious mouth. The separation between my mouth and his groin increased moment by moment, his length becoming more difficult to fully please. Finally, the thumping in his mind pushed back against my push. I knew that meant his penis now stood a throbbing eight inches long. My practiced mind could combat his unconscious will and force more growth upon him if I pleased. But I knew better. Once he realized the changes in his form, no strength of wills would be required. I removed his cock from my mouth, examining my work. His nicely formed member seemed more perfectly proportioned than it had before. An unconscious change of my own, to be sure. His eyes opened questioningly, likely wondering at (only instinctively) the absence of the mysterious thumping in his mind. He focused first on my beaming face, which looked up at his confusion. "Why’d you stop?" he said, and then he noticed the more perfect column of meat hovering higher up his torso than before. "Huh?" he said shocked. Careful fingers reached out to touch its new length, to feel its girth as if unsure it was real. "What happened?" he ruminated to nobody in particular. "It’s your desires," I said simply. "You got what you wanted," I indicated, nodding to his arms. His eyes widened, his fingers quickly abandoning his throbbing cock to explore the newly expanded territory of his beefy biceps. "How ...," he said, trailing off. He brought his arm into a hard flex, bringing twenty inches of solid muscle into full relief. "Your desires," I said again. "Tell me your desires." And he did. No sooner than I encouraged him did new desires begin flooding from his mouth. "I want to be hot!" he said, pretty brown eyes filled with lust. "To be buff and muscular like all the guys I’ve ever wanted! I want a huge chest, and thick inch calves, and wide shoulders!" I again engulfed his eight inch cock, taking as much into my mouth as I could. "And low body fat! Super low, like five percent," he said as an after thought. "I want to be toned and buff and beautiful, and I want every guy to want me!" And I started to make it happen. The thumping in his mind again as soon as my lips made contact with his pulsing dick. I pushed back through my soul, pushing hard against the thumping in his head, then into his calves and chest and shoulders, causing them to balloon bigger and wider, making them harder and rounder. His thighs thickened, forcing more of my kneeling weight onto his hardening body. Thick forearms pushed reflexively into the couch as I worked my tongue around his cock. Globes of glutes developed under him, shifting his body towards my face. And I pulled on his mind. Veins appeared as I dragging the fat from his body and into who knows where. The thickness of his biceps increased, padding removed to reveal nothing but masculine hardness. His pecs rounded and came into glorious relief as his ridiculously low body fat desire came to be. Faint abdominal muscles became uncovered to reveal eight perfect and cavernous ridges. "This is so hot!" he shouted, focusing on body becoming perfection. I pushed again, further filling and expanding his muscles to meet his desires. He flexed his arms and felt his shoulders. Round delts pushed against his expectant hands. His widening back pushed and stretched the plastic covering of the couch, his width increasing greatly. Pecs danced and flexed under his lustful gaze as I filling them with more size. The cleft between the two hard slabs of muscle deepened; his chest bulged outward causing taunt nipples to harden and to begin pointing downward. "Fuck!" he screamed, starting to buck his eight inches of cock into my mouth. I gagged as the nearly perfect cock head thrust against the back of my throat. But still I pushed against the thumping in his mind. My pendant glowed a bright green-blue, pulsing with each unified thump in our skulls. "Fuck!" he said again, examining the expanse that his body became. "Can you make me taller? Five foot ten!" he yelled out, still trying to push himself further down my throat. "And I want to be as hung as a porn star! Ten inches. No, twelve!" And I made it happen. Sweat poured from his brown, dripping in torrents onto the plastic covered couch. His feet expanded downward beneath my body, pushing away from the cushions that supported his increasing weight. My soul danced and sang, the thumping flowing through it. I felt the pulsing of my own cock still confined tightly in my briefs. I began to buck my hips in motion with Mitch’s own. He fucked my face with all his might, as if the force he used could somehow help him achieve his goals. His short stature stretched as his bones expanded to his wish of five foot ten. And still I pushed on the thumping in his mind. His cock shot farther into my mouth as if it unrolled from within. It expanded quickly, making it difficult to keep in my mouth. He shoved into me once more, forcing his enlarged head down my throat. I could feel it expanding in the only direction it could. I choked and sputtered but his new strength held me, his twenty-inch arms reaching around to push my head into an irrefutable embrace. But still I pushed against his mind, forcing his dick to snake bigger, more and more. My throat jaw felt strained as it grew until finally my push met a hard force, like a wall. His unconscious pushed against the strength of mine. Then, in a solid fluid motion, he removed his cock from my throat, causing it to make an audible *pop* as it exited my tight lips. He stood up, throwing me to the ground and grabbing his porn-star sized proportions. He jerked and jerked, convulsing his whole body. Sweat shot off in all directions. His jaw had squared. His features looked chiseled. His brown eyes shone with brightness. And I could only think one word about his penis: perfect. It was thick and round and proportioned like what could be found on a statue of the gods. He focused only on himself, worshipping his own body. Hard muscles flexed and danced as he strained to get himself off. Lengthened fingers flew across the full foot of his cock, as if he’d been born to have such great size. Then finally, with a roar like a thousand lions, he came! Cum spurted up and arched out of his perfect cock. It flew in every direction, up and over every surface, across the room, and above his head. He twitched and shuttered and came with all his might until finally, without another moment’s commotion, he stopped. I felt the warmth of my own cum trickle down my leg. I’d cum in all the excitement and hadn’t even noticed. That hadn’t happened in a long while. As he slumped down on the wet plastic covering my couch, I looked up at the magnificent male specimen I’d created. His requests hadn’t been as lofty as some, but his desires for beauty had come through in full force. He almost glowed with radiance as he opened his eyes. I held back a gasp as they looked down at me, taken aback by the beauty. "Wow," he said. "Yes," I replied. I cleaned him up and gave him clothes that I kept on hand. He gave me a full bodied hug. He easily lifted my superior height towards the ceiling before putting me down, regarding me with a wide, sheepish grin. "How can I ever thank you?" he asked, beaming. "Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way," I said. As I escorted him out the door, I took pause. He’d been one of the better ones. I knew he was mine forever, now. He’d always want what I could provide, like so many other men. And so, I spoke. "Mitch," I said, looking at him directly. He turned from his elated escape to regard me once more. "It’s only temporary. All this size." His face fell. It saddened me to see such beauty falter. "Do you hear that thumping? You need to push against it as best you can. It’ll be stronger than you and it will fade. Over time it will leak out of your subconscious. And when it does, you’ll lose a good amount of size. Not all, but more than you’d like. And when that happens, seek me out." He stared. "You’ll lose less each time we meet. And next time we do, you’ll know better how you can thank me then." A frown crossed his lips. I shut the door, leaving him dumbfounded on the front steps. Part 2 My eyes surveyed the dulcet hues of red and yellow spreading across the sky with the setting sun. The cool breeze blew through the open window, flowing mischievously across my nipples, making them hard. My mind wavered between its usual fantasies and the reality of my wildest dreams come true. The fantasy world of my own creation had become too much of a reality for me, now that so often the fantasy in my dreams seemed a better place. A dull sense of things crept back upon me. The ever present thumping in my mind drew me back from my wanderings, reminding me of things that had to be done. I reached up to finger the cool pendant that dangled so innocently over my chest. It seemed like a gift at first. Images of hot, muscular men flashed through my mind as they always did just before the sunset. Once, this had been the favorite part of my day; the promise of conquests to come and imaginations to explore. My gaze remained far off to the distant hills, following the winding paths that meandered away from this valley full of newly muscled men. I longed to go there, away from the valley and past the rising hills that served as parapets to ensnare me in a wondrous fantasy world come to life. I knew it could not be done. A knock at the door sealed my fate, yet again. He let himself in, following a routine we’d perfected over six years of practice. It had become a tantric dance, both our bodies involved in an automatic play of movement to where the night would inevitably lead. The door clicked closed behind him, wafts of masculine smell eddying about on the air currents in the breezy room. It continued much the same as before. The click of a bottle cap being removed for his drink. Currency rustled in a transfer from his wallet to my wicker basket. My favorite armchair creaked under his settling weight. The thumping in my mind continued rhythmically in preparation for my guest. I turned to regard the man sitting in the chair normally reserved for me, the small muscles of my back and shoulders fully visible to the landscape beyond. My eyes scanned his five foot ten frame. Once again, his beauty astonished me. A tight blue shirt rose slightly above his navel due to the tug of his outstretched and reclining arms. I marveled at the tight muscles of his lower abdomen and the stark Adonis belt. The thinning shirt outlined solid pecs and clung to nineteen-inch arms. White shorts hung limply, almost covering his thighs but revealing strong calves and long, sandaled feet. I knew he heard the dull thumping in his mind too. Mitch took my warning from so long ago quite seriously. He experienced the fading away of the masterful thumping. He watched as his body slowly changed back to what it had been. Then, before a month’s time had passed he knocked on my door as had all the men I’d changed. The pendant drew him to me more often than most. He never let the thumping fully abate before appearing, currency in hand. He needed the muscle. He desired the beauty. His mind craved the ever present thumping. There was something special about him. Something different. "Hey there," he said smiling at me from across the room. I glowered at him and his small talk. "You’re back early. It hasn’t been a month." "Yeah, well. I’ve got to keep up my look!" He flexed a beautifully proportioned arm. I’d perfected and sculpted that arm many times over. "You know there’s only so far I’m willing to go," I said to him, echoing myself of a few weeks ago. I ignored the rampant thumping in my mind. "Aww, come on! You know I’m worth it," he replied, grabbing his crotch. My fierce blue stare penetrated him, boring through his casual façade to gaze on the deeper desires within. He’d tried to push the limits of masculinity so many times. I’d given him fantasies of every sort over the years, accentuating first this muscle, then his beauty. He’d been tall and sculpted; then he’d been short and wide. All manners of musculature and size had been in his desires, and we’d tried them all together. I’d sculpted him in so many different ways that his original form mostly escaped my memory. But through it all, he kept that astonishing beauty that impressed even me. "Don’t you get tired of keeping this up?" "What are you talking about? You love the attention! And the money." He added that last part with heavy disdain. "Alright," I relented, "let’s get this over with." He stood quickly and shucked his sandals and shirt. My breath reflexively stopped every time I gazed at his magnificent torso. His perfectly round pecs transfixed my gaze. He approached and pulled my head into his chest, forcing me to lean against his weight. The thumping in my mind increased. I extended my tongue to lick the cleavage before my mouth. It tasted magnificent as it always did. His masculine musk filled and surrounded my senses. He knew that in spite of myself, I loved our interplay and so he played me like the masterful puppeteer he’d become to get what he desired most: more size. "That’s right. You know what I want," he said. "Make me huge." I complied to his desire. My tongue ran across the ridges of his eight cobblestoned abs, gingerly appreciating every knot and hard crevice. With practiced fingers, I unbuttoned his shorts to slide them down solid thighs. My cock throbbed in my own pants, my thoughts a mix of desire and fatigue. He released me from his embrace long enough to lower his underwear, revealing an ample cock -- a largely proportioned and porn star thick, ten-inch cock. He’d always asked for a big cock and I always provided. Now I benefited from my handy work, opening wide to take the semi-hard member into my mouth. I sucked liberally on the perfectly shaped head, as it pumped harder with each beat of his heart. And focusing on my expected task, I felt the thumping in his mind. It seemed loud compared to all then men I’d conditioned. It took practice for them to push hard enough against the thumping in their minds to keep it from seeping fully away. And Mitch among them all learned the best. In spite of my help, it’s how he really kept so much of his size over the last six years. Most of my creations partnered with one another and let themselves shrink together, happily and blissfully loved. But not Mitch. He chose the opposite windy path. His life, like mine, became about size and perfection. His long cock felt warm in my mouth and I savored it with my tongue. Moaning erupted from above. I looked up at Mitch’s refined proportions and chiseled features, savoring memories of him and me growing close over the years, even if only for this purpose. The thumping in my mind matched the thumping in his, a quickening pulse that filled both our thoughts. Then I pushed the thumping through my soul and into his eager body. And then it started again. He yelled out passionate desires in his lust. "I want to be bigger than ever before! Massive and huge. Tall. Towering." His hunger had become frightening. He wanted to wield power over other men. But I knew that no amount of size could provide him with the power I had. He’d still always need me. His arms raised in glorious relief, flexing and growing as I pushed new size into their already impressive proportions. They grew to twenty inches quickly, then to twenty one. And his shoulders swelled in size to match. His back spread wider, straining his flimsy blue t-shirt. It’d always been a favorite of his, but he’d forgotten to remove it so it would not be long for the world. "Mmmph," he moaned, his eyes closed, as his pecs grew heavier. I made them round and thick, perfecting them as one of my many gifts to him. They heaved higher and pushed against the shirt as he flexed. The sound of tearing fabric interrupted his heavy breathing. "Fuck yeah!" he cried. My pendant glowed its standard blue-green hue and thumped loudly in our heads, and I pushed against it with my usual vigor. His cock felt hot in my mouth. I loved having it there and slurped and bobbed contently. The tear at his neckline continued to spread with his widening back. I watched it travel south towards his nipples; my available hand reflexively grabbing to free my own confined meat. A stark ripping sound accompanied the slow progress down his torso, and it made us both squirm with pleasure. When it revealed the entirety of his cleavage, I noticed something that made me startle. Dangling between his heaving muscular pecs sat a blood-red pendant. I stopped pushing, leaving the thumping alone. His cock throbbed anxiously in my mouth while I surveyed his sweaty torso. His eight pack was perfect. Thick traps mounted visibly around his neck, even from this angle. He’d gone from fitness model to junior bodybuilder in no time at all. He wondered at the sudden delay, opening his eyes to peer down at his hard cock pulsing stagnant in my mouth. A quick scan of his expanded frame told him what caused my start, and he leered. "Do you like it?" he said. "I got it near the old forest path." He didn’t allow a response. His hand had snaked stealthily from its flexed position to a forceful hold behind my head. He held me firmly in place. I tried to vocalize around his cock, but it was simply too large to allow any oration to pass. The thumping in my mind began to grew, shifting to an alarming frenzy! My own blue-green pendant shone with an unexplainable urgency, filling me with panic and dread! I wriggled and writhed to free myself from his grip, but he held fast. His free hand closed around the amber pendant hanging around his neck and he spoke. "Do you remember all those times you stopped before giving me what I really desired? Before giving me what I truly needed? All those denials? Well this is going to change all that." He ruffled my hair with his free hand and continued. "Rumor has it that you got your pendant somewhere deep in the forest. That’s where this one comes from too. When I wear it I can hear my own dull thumping below the remnants of yours. But I can’t get it to work no matter how hard I push against it with my mind." The wide grin on his face reached a renewed apex and I felt my panic rebuild. "I discovered that it doesn’t respond to me because this one doesn’t work with a push." He looked me in the eyes and said simply, "it works with a pull." And with no more delay or explanation, I felt a tug from somewhere deep in my mind. Mitch closed his eyes in deep concentration as the rapid thumping in my mind began to collapse in upon itself. His biceps started to expand once again, dashing any hopes of estrangement from my involuntary bondage. They flexed voluntarily in a show of power, becoming disproportionately large. Thick snake-like veins snaked across the surface of his biceps with every inch of growth. A belt the size of my waist couldn’t encompass one of those monsters. Even with this new unleashing of size, his hand against my head remained constrained as if to show a mastery of strength. The tearing down his shirt resumed much faster this time with the quick expansion of his lats. He had never been so thick before, all because I enforced limits. They thickened and rippled, pushing him wider and wider, looking engorged with size, even from my vantage point. He pulled the thumping from my mind as if it were a thing to be exchanged for a fair wage from a reluctant seller. The beauty and proportion I worked so hard to create evaporated quickly under his un-tuned understanding of his growth. Abrupt changes occurred sporadically across his form. I felt his forearm bulge against my head. His left thigh crowded my face. It hardened and took up more space, pushing me to the side. Then sometime after so did his right. I watched both feet creep longer across the floor towards my knees. The Adonis belt near my nose evaporated as a muscle gut formed. It pushed into my space over his cock and into my forehead. It may not have been coordinated, but the changes to his form were awesome. I’d never before let him lose his beautiful proportion. I realized then that it was his beauty that made me putty in his hands. And now it was disappearing. He bulked and flexed and expanded outward without any regard for my desires. My desires. His pecs jutted so far forward would no longer see his neck. A bright red glow cast about the dark room from Mitch’s pendant. He brought one arm into a flex for his own approval. Even as the bicep grew impossibly larger before his eyes, my mind raced. I tried to push against his pull in a battle for the thumping but it only hastened the growth of his ballooning arm. He peeked down and smiled at my plight, realizing what I’d done. No trick of mine could prevent the pull from penetrating the depths of my mind. In a moment, my worries compounded. Mitch had begun to rise. His cock and hand dragged me up. I grabbed his ass with both hands to support myself. Its hardness protested as I attempted to dig my fingers into his flesh. They expanded beneath my fingers as if responding to my touch. I was forced to rise off the ground without any possible recourse. I dared not bite down on his hefty cock in fear that he would make it grow. If it got too big it would easily break my jaw. So I did the only thing my experience taught me how to do: I sucked on his hard cock. He moaned immediately and pulled harder to re-double his own growth. By now I’d risen to a difficult squat, a good six inches off the floor to accommodate his increasing height. His muscles glistened in the red glow. His stature resembled the professional bodybuilders I’d seen in magazines and contests, and still he grew. I sucked hard and with all my skill. He had to cum soon. Maybe that would bring him back to reality and stop his lust for more growth. His breathing increased steadily with his size. He adjusted his stance to compensate for his growing thighs and ballooning calves. I regretted their disproportionate size, eyeing calves that looked far too big but continued unabated on my quest to get him off. His pecs stuck out much too far for their width. His arms looked comically large below his shoulders. His fingers and feet grew longer. I could feel his ass becoming more and more globe-like with every passing moment. The heat from his body overshadowed the brisk breeze. Only he and I existed. His hard hold on my head forced me to work his cock in spite of all else. I forgot about my apartment, about the money left in my wicker basket, about the numbing silence that rumbled ominously in my mind. I sucked, and I sucked. My tongue danced expertly around every ridge of his dick that I’d spent six years changing and re-memorizing. Even when I felt the head of his cock working itself further into my mouth, I continued to work the shaft as best as I could. Then without warning, my head became free and with a flash of blue-green light I fell backwards onto the floor. His once beautiful proportions were gone, replaced with blatant favoritism to what I knew to be his favorite muscle groups. I gawked up at him, larger than any professional bodybuilder I’d ever seen. A bright blood-red glow still emanated from the amber pendant hanging tediously between his pecs. Both pecs were larger than I’d thought possible, pulling his shoulders forward. Large arms out shadowed thick and veiny forearms. Bulbous calves and long feet betrayed the hard, thick thighs they were meant to complement. And his height and thickness did not match. An eleven inch cock stood proudly before the most hardened muscle gut I’d ever known. He looked down at himself disapprovingly. "This is harder than I thought. You made it look easy," he jested. I scampered away in a feeble attempt to put distance between us, lest he decide to place me again on his cock to fix his own proportion. Chuckling at me he said, "don’t worry, I don’t need you anymore." And he made his cock longer. It inched itself two or three inches towards his cavernous cleavage. I watched dumbstruck. It was only then that I realized the quiet in my head. My blue-green pendant no longer glowed; it had a reddish tinge that I’d never seen before. There was no thumping in my mind as there had always been. He had stolen it all. "Wow, it’s really loud in here," he said offhandedly. "I can push," and his cock rose another inch. "And I can pull," and his muscle gut receded significantly, leaving an amazingly sculpted cobblestoned torso in its place. "Fuck! I can do whatever I want!" His head inched closer to the ceiling, making him the tallest he’d ever been. "This is awesome," Mitch said, speaking more to himself than to me. "Watch this!" he said, and without further ado maneuvered himself into a most muscular! Veins erupted everywhere. Impossibly huge, iron-hard muscle displayed themselves in full relief. His whole body screamed its power to the world! He closed his eyes. "Gods!" His balls swelled visibly. "Fuck," and then so did his cock, "yeah!" Cum erupted from his fifteen inch cock and pelted the cleavage between his mammoth pecs! Shot after shot exploded. I could see the concentration on his face as he pushed or pulled (I did not know which) the thumping in his mind. His most muscular held while he made cum in long, hard, powerful spurts. Each shot fell onto his heaving pecs and dribbled down his disproportionately lean and sculpted abdomen. He looked frightening and amazing. Cum gushed and hit with an audible splatter. Then, after ten or twelve sticky loads, he abated and opened his eyes. "This power is amazing!" he said, and again his cock swelled larger again and more cum shot from his towering member. Time past. I watched him cum on himself over and over, stop, and then start all over again. I don’t know if he did it for pleasure, for power, or for the fun of making me watch. I’d never been able to do anything like that to him before. Finally, he stopped. The amber pendant, resembling more a purple-blue-green hue, dripped with cum and burrowed between his pecs. His hard cock swayed in the cool air. He thundered to the door and stopped. "Thanks," he said, giving me a wink. He opened it and, fully naked and drenched in sticky fluid, left me forever. I simply watched him go. A cool breeze wafted across my bare skin in an attempt to remind me of the world outside. It taunted me, reminding me of all I had lost. The newly muscled men in the valley before the high hills and the winding paths beyond were all lost to me. My jaw was sore from its restricted movement of moments ago and it protested as I opened it to scream after him. But I realized I had nothing to say. Nothing could be said. Or done. A tear trickled down my cheek. I’d lost the best part of me. Thoughts of leaving this beautiful, amazing valley flew from my consciousness. Only the silence remained. I lay there for hours. I noticed nothing but the eerie lack of thumping. I cradled my pendant to give it calm. It felt dead. The next morning I awoke where I’d fallen. I hadn’t bothered to move. I felt the weight of the now purple-amber pendant against my unimpressive chest. Some time past lost in my own thoughts. Then a smile crossed my lips. I’d recalled the last things I had said to Mitch the first time we met. "It’s only temporary." I clutched my pendant close to myself and searched my mind. Somewhere in its depths, though very, very faint, I found something. I listened to myself. There it was -- only in its beginnings, but the sound of a soft, constant, and unmistakable thumping in my mind.

Juggernaut pt. 13: The Darkest Magic The bi-frost bridge, a seemingly vast pathway from the portals of the nine-realms into Asgard, shone brightly as if some type of cosmic rainbow…well at least it did until yesterday. Now it was stained with the blood and corpses of frost giants and Asgardian warriors. From the bridge to the golden walls of the great city, war seemed to flourish. Battles and skirmishes for every inch of ground gained. Thor had mounted an impressive defense, and for a time it seemed as if the frost giants were to fail at their invasion. However, the palace at the center of the battle held an uninvited guest. Loki had found a way past the battle, past his hammer wielding half-brother, and into the walls of the palace…where lay Odin. As he stretched his hand over the sleeping Odin, almost realizing his plan to rule coming true, a blunt force…almost hammer-like…struck him across the face, and he blacked out. ************************************************************************ Horseback riding, cooking, endless battles with giant monsters…and all for glory and mead in the halls of Val Halla…what a dream?! Matt roused from his slumber. What a night the giant bear had. Such vivid dreams…so lifelike. Then he remembered the trays of food, the sex, the torrents of cum he had swallowed from his workers time after time, the night at the club…Will. How he’d grown! The booth he’d demolished had now fully given way to his massive bulk and cracked right down the middle. It didn’t matter though. At 1700 lbs., Matt was truly a sight. He felt soreness on the right side of his face…strange…he didn’t remember any fighting. However, even with the larger size, Matt felt a level of clarity that he hadn’t felt since meeting Loki a couple of days ago. He rose to his full height and began to feed his pre-cum to his workers. As they started to move with renewed strength, Matt looked at Will. He woke the now 400lb. bear up and told him to go home to his partner. Will marveled at his new size, and looked at the colossal bear before him…”Go home, Will, and use your new size for your marriage.” Will smiled and sauntered out of the restaurant. “Now to test some strength,” said Matt. ************************************************************************ Loki fluttered his eyes…an elderly man sat waiting on the throne. When Loki began to lunge, a sphere of light and energy around him threw him back. The old man, Odin, sat and glared at Loki with one good eye…his son Thor by his right hand. Loki tried spells and incantations, but they were of no use...his mystical hold on any creature had been completely severed, and without his magic, Loki couldn’t reverse the effects of his plan. He had been beaten…and he knew it. He couldn’t even hear Odin banishing him to the wastelands of the nine-realms. Loki’s magic would be useless there…forever to rot on the forgotten realm. But he’d be back…he always came back, his plan was still in play, and Thor would NEVER forgive him for what he did THIS time…and with a last chagrin, vanished into the air, where he would live out his sentence at the edge of the nine realms. ************************************************************************ Matt waddled his new bulk behind the restaurant. He had been trying to figure the last two days out. He knew he had superpowers…if you could call it that. But all he could tell was that he could grow after ingesting large amounts of cum, his cum could regenerate weaker people, and his strength and size had grown considerably! What could he do with that? Plus, there was Loki. He thought Loki may have some type of mental control over Matt, but he felt fine. But…the dreams. He knew these people. Suddenly, a strange light column appeared before Matt and out of it, stepped a man clad in armor…tall and muscular with blond hair and a hammer of some type. Matt walked up to him, looked him up and down, and then gazed into his eyes. “Thor”, Matt said. The feeling of seeing Thor gave Matt a feeling of calm, warmth, and longing…like he hadn’t seen an old friend in years, and was just meeting him for the first time. “And I see you brought Mjolnir.” Thor looked puzzled…he had never seen this human, and yet, the large brute seemed to know more about the Asgardian. ************************************************************************ “MORE!” grunted Luke Cage, as the hero for hire was impaled on the giant black cock. Jamal had wanted to push the limits of his magic, and he had done so within another dimension within the Inner Sanctum. Jamal focused harder than ever and was now a behemoth…demolishing Cage’s prostate with 3900lbs. of pure force. This was the largest the juggernaut had ever been, and Cage was over the moon. Supporting Cage completely with his dick, Jamal kept sliding the lesser man up and down the engorged obelisk like a plaything; his pre-cum keeping Cage conscious, and pumped, and glistening. Cage’s eyes rolled in the back of his head. He mustered his strength and forearm smashed one of the giant Jamal’s massive pecs, only to feel pain as the mountains did not move. Jamal’s gazed down at Luke…still impaled on the massive dick, and wrapped his monstrous arms around him. “Feel my power”…Jamal focused more, and slowly began to pack on pound after pound. This was the largest he’d ever been. More size, more power. Jamal began to break into a sweat. He was pushing the limits of his magic…maybe the Juggernaut could only be so large…but he had to get to 4000lbs. He could do it! Just a bit more…and then SPLOOSH!!! Jamal came and came, his blasts so hard that Luke was lifted from his cock by the sheer force of the torrent. Jamal fell to his knees and began lapping the seed that had fallen everywhere. The now 1850 lb. Cage lay in a pool of cum and in a state of bliss. At 4001 lbs. Jamal was spent. Slowly he began to shrink back down into a more manageable 2600 lbs. He looked at his lover and grinned, and hefted Luke over his monstrous delt, and headed for the showers. Jamal toweled off and stepped out the enlarged bathroom that was created for the two of them. He knew Cage was the man for him, and seeing the “Unbreakable” man sprawled across the bed asleep, made Jamal feel warm and happy. However, he was still worried Loki was out there, even after Dr. Strange said he could no longer sense Loki’s magic. Maybe Thor had won…maybe they no longer had to be afraid. Either way, he had reached a plateau today and would keep pushing just in case he needed the extra power. In any case, he’d met Thor, and he looked as though he had things under control. He remembered the good ole days, where he first met Cytorrak and got a handle on the powers of the Juggernaut…his first feat of strength, his fuck with Wolverine and Colossus…with Matt. He missed his first love, and hoped he was doing ok. Matt was a big boy especially after the extra poundage that he gave him after their initial fuck session. Jamal was sure he’d be fine, even with Loki running around. ************************************************************************ Barren and desolate, Loki sat in the abyss and meditated. His plan had failed…except for the part about torturing his brother. It always worked. He’d try to gain the throne, Thor would stop him, then later find out it wasn’t a part of the plan, find Loki, ask for answers, and in turn help Loki escape from whatever prison. Loki was sure this time would be no different. After all, this magic was of the darkest kind…to kill and then transfer a soul took someone of great power…and it would take someone of great power to undo the deed, and so for now he’d wait. ************************************************************************ Matt gazed into the eyes of Thor, and all he could recall were the battles they fought together…the hunts, the adventures. And yet, Matt knew he had never met the Asgardian in his life. “Mortal, you speak as if you know me, but I don’t know you.” Matt grinned and with surprising speed, grabbed the Asgardian’s crotch and began to rub. Thor actually moaned a bit before realizing Matt had lifted him into the air. With gusto, Matt ripped the tights from the demi-god, and began to lick the massive dong of Thor. After hearing moans of lust and shock from Thor, Matt engulfed the large cock in his mouth and began to suck with such a powerful force that Thor could not hope to resist. Thor, suspended by his underarms, began to buck his hips back and forth, face fucking Matt. Slowly, the Asgardian released his seed into the much larger Matt. As soon as the first drop hit his tongue, Matt’s eyes went dark…visions of Hades, of rescuing battles, of a loving family, of Odin, Asgard, the bi-frost bridge, horseback riding and hunting with Thor…and then the grin of Loki as he was stabbed with some sort of scepter…then the days of Val Halla, the cooking…He sucked Thor for all he was worth, and then dropped the Asgardian to the ground. Thor’s physiology held up a bit better than humans, but he looked drained, and spent. Meanwhile, Matt had gained much more size in his muscles, and his turtle-shelled abdominals hung over his massive thighs. “Damn, you taste just as good as you ever did Odinson, but don’t let the wife find out, she doesn’t like me going off to battle as is. She’d hate it if I had the Prince of Asgard’s royal seed floating around in this girth…let me cook you a hearty meal to help you recover.” Thor slowly sat in amazement and watched as the 1900lb. behemoth gave a huge bellow and strode back into the restaurant. “It can’t be…Volstagg?” To Be Continued…

It's been a while since I've posted anything here. The usual stuff happened/happens I guess, so I haven't really had enough time to write much of anything. That's not actually true. For those of you curious, I've written the next two parts of Beyond Sexy a couple of times, but I don't know, for some reason I end up satisfied and delete them. That's a work in progress and will continue to be for awhile. Hopefully no more than a couple of weeks. Anyways, that old 'got to write something' feeling snuck up on me today and a some time later, I had this written up. Feel free to make any additions, other than incest or furry stuff. Hope you enjoy. %% Also if it seems overly complex/convoluted for a magic base story, I'm not entirely sure why I did that. So, basically the character puts on the ring to transform, the speed of the changes are controlled the by character, and any changes are permanent after the ring is taken off. Now in the ring is placed back on, then the character can again change his appearance. So really the changes are only permanent if the character loses the ring. The Ring Transfiguration. A process reserved only for the most skillful and trustworthy magicians. Usage was strictly regulated and those unauthorized were punished severely. It was only natural that such revered magic would be perverted by a teenager. Daniel Veras was neither particularly powerful nor skilled, yet through sheer determination and endless repetition he managed to create something comparable to a miracle. Crafted into a simple stainless steel ring, lacking any engraving or precious stones, was a magic born of thousands of years of arcane knowledge and countless failures. By slipping his fourth digit through the ring, Daniel was able to undergo a complete metamorphosis, adding or losing mass, changing form completely or simply making cosmetic adjustments. Unlike transfiguration spells, that only changed the physical appearance, the ring's magic recorded the changes made on the macroscopic world and altered the microscopic world to match. Giving the wearer a new genetic template meant specialized magic given form for the purpose of undoing transfiguration spells was ineffective because there was nothing to change back. It also meant the transformations were permanent once the ring was removed. **** Daniel rummaged through a drawer full of condoms for several seconds before settling on a particular size and flavor. He stuffed a handful of extra large rubbers into back pocket before wandering through the apartment making sure his roommates were gone. Satisfied and at easy with his roommates gone, Daniel ducked into his closet and entered the combination on an enchanted safe; only those able to manipulate magic were able to even perceive the solid chuck of metal. He rummaged through the mystic artifacts, searching for a familiar worn circle. Once he found it, Daniel walked to the full length mirror hanging against the back of his bedroom door and slipped the metallic circle onto its home. The changes were immediate. Everywhere, except that the waist, Daniel's jeans tightened as thick muscle spontaneously developed from nothingness. The denim molded like a secondary skin around Daniel's expanding rear globes and impressive frontal mound. The skin on his upper body tightened as the few pounds of fat melted away, revealing a network of well defined muscle. Daniel added mass to his arms and chest, while keeping his abdomen flat, yet allowing his abs to pop against his dark blue polo. As his bones thickened and lengthened, the ring expanded in size, keeping snug against Daniel's muscular finger. For several minutes Daniel stared into the mirror, admiring his imagination and the ring's power. He grabbed the hem of his polo, lifted it shoulder level, and flexed his meaty bricks for several seconds before deciding to make the cuts deeper and more pronounced. Satisfied he dropped the hem and continued model in front of the mirror. As Daniel struck pose after pose, he altered the bone structure of his face. With each cover worthy shot, Daniel's cheekbones became more pronounced and better defined, his jawline became stronger making him look older than his 21-years. He played around going from youthfully handsome to rugged manly, as a finishing touch, he added a short, dense forest of jet black hair to his face and scalp. Unable to find any further changes, Daniel walked into the garaged and started the engine of his car. Seconds later he sped out of the drive way, thinking of the fun ahead and the endless possibilities of the ring.

My heart was pounding when I entered the restaurant. I had specified a public place to meet with you, and you had suggested this venue. You had agreed so ready that at first I wondered whether this was a place you frequented - a place that was used to your presence and your reported…. What should I call what you do? Assuming that everything they say about you is true, of course. It seems impossible, but a lot of things seem impossible until you witness them firsthand. I walked in a few minutes early, hoping to witness your entrance and your effect on others. I wondered if half of what I had heard was true, and I hoped to be able to record it. I told the maitre’d that I had a reservation under your name, and he looked at me and smiled - not in an unusual way - and took up two menus before showing me to a booth. It was lunchtime and we were meeting downtown, the place was packed with dark-suited business types or start-up dudes in gingham shirts and beards. No one paid any particular attention to me and I sat down to await your arrival. My heart was already beating fast. Certainly I was excited, how could I not be? You were becoming something of a legend, though actual reports of you were hard to pin down. Someone might see you from a distance, and they knew it could be no other except you because of your…unique manner of dress. Or undress, to be more accurate. Odd, I thought, how that could be. But perhaps it had something to do with what you told me you were capable of. The impossible. There was a stir near the entrance and people parted like the Red Sea before the hand of God. I could see you easily, because of your stature. Funny, I thought, I expected you to be even bigger! The reports from some who had met you were staggering, particularly concerning your size and dimensions. Then again, there was some confusion about that, with those reports varying wildly from the unusual to the superhuman. You were head and shoulders above everyone else, and of course you were also naked. For some reason I found myself avoiding your face. I had been told to expect to have a very strong - even unavoidable - reaction to it. “His body is remarkable. Certainly beautiful, and probably more beautiful than anyone, man or woman, that I have ever seen. But it’s his face….” And then this look of, I dunno, worship? Adoration? Lust? Would come over the speaker. You moved through the crowd and people were touching you. You would speak to some of them - I could…sense your voice rather than hear it. I had been warned about that too. “When he speaks, there’s something…magical about his voice. Something irresistible. You want to hear him speak. You crave to hear him.” Everyone turned to look at you and it seemed like some sort of wild, uncontrolled orgy would break out at any moment. Just your presence in the restaurant had raised the erotic temperature and I was feeling it, too, even from the other side of the room. Then, just as quickly, that sensation eased or dissipated, like a fog, and people still remained interested in you but no more so than if any celebrity was walking among them. Then you were at the table, standing before me. I tried but could not avoid staring at your cock. I think my mouth fell open. It was…magnificent. That is not a word I would generally apply to another man’s equipment, but no more apt description seemed appropriate. It was amazing. It was colossal. It was stupendous. But more than anything else…it was enormous. A thick, heavy, proud, formidable cock that jutted forward over a pair of perfectly formed, absolutely identical, completely beautiful balls swelling fat inside your scrotum. My vision of your equipment was suddenly interrupted by a hand - your hand. Your perfect, large, manly, powerful hand as you held it towards me and spoke. The words did not immediately register to me, but whatever you had said seemed to ring a bell inside me that resonated like a tongue on my dick and I felt myself growing extremely aroused and very hard all at once. Perhaps you recognized this effect you were having and you said, softly, “Pardon me,” and then the sensation of pure sex lessened, but did not disappear, and your hand was on my shoulder and I looked up. Then I came. My dick inflated and I came. There was no decision that I played in it. I looked at your face and I came. You smiled and I came again, and then I watched your lips - your supple, beautiful, kissable lips - say “Sorry about that.” I think I tried saying something, and then you said,”Thank you for showing up naked. I enjoy looking at beautiful naked bodies like yours.” I remembered that I decided that I wouldn’t wear clothes to greet you. Was it something you had suggested? I couldn’t quite recall, but I was suddenly somewhat abashed that I had just launched a volley of cum at the underside of the table. “You’re welcome,” I told you. “You have a remarkable body,” you observed kindly adding, “and so powerfully built.” I felt your beautiful eyes moving over my torso. I stood up so you could see all of me. “You’re proud of being so muscular and well-developed, I’m sure.” I was, and I said so. I could not possibly compare to your masterful level of muscular size and beauty, but I had worked hard to look like I did. “Will you make a muscle for me?” you asked. “You want me to…?” You nodded and showed me what you meant, illustrating your request by lifting your own arm and pushing your biceps and triceps to full glory. I felt my dick throb at the sight of so much beautiful power. I felt humbled and even slightly shamed that I could never compare to your glorious size and power, but I nonetheless lifted my own arms and flexed as hard as I could. “Impressive,” you remarked. “Are those twenty-inch arms?” you asked. I looked from one to the other and beamed. Twenty-inch arms! “No,” you amended, “more like twenty-four.” They were! They were each twenty-four inches around exactly. I admired your discerning eye. “Yes,” I answered. “Your entire upper body is quite remarkable. Even though your arms are so large, so strong, your shoulders and chest match the size perfectly. And your lats spread like wings!” You narrowed your gaze, adding, “ordinarily an upper body of such proportions would make a man look odd, but it’s a good thing you’re so tall - six-ten?” I didn’t think that was true, but…. “Six-eleven?” Yes, that was it. Nearly seven feet tall, and naked as the day I was born. I lowered my arms, letting them hang from my sides. They had to hang out from my body because my lats were so wide. I could hardly see beyond my chest to the rest of my body. It was something else I was proud of, and your notice made me swell. I puffed up my chest to show you how large I was. “You’re highly aroused,” you observed. “Yes,” I answered. Because I was. “It shows,” you agreed, smiling as you cast your gaze downward. “I love that about men, how we cannot hide our desire, how our sex is on display so obviously. How many inches?” “Inches?” My waist? My chest? “How big is your cock?” You reached forward to touch me. I was hard as stone, and your hand surrounded me. “It feels as thick as your wrist.” I surrounded my wrist with my other hand and realized it was true, though I had never made that comparison before. My cock was absurdly thick. “And it must be…fourteen? No, fifteen inches in length.” “When it’s hard,” I said, nodding. “And when it’s not?” I thought about it. “It’s always fifteen inches long,” I said. It was one of the reasons I enjoyed being naked for him now. It was difficult managing my cock into pants, let alone underwear. “That must be why you are always naked,” you said to me, echoing my thoughts. “You are always naked.” Always naked. Yes. “Yes,” I agreed. “I admire that,” you told me. “I don’t suppose anyone ever objects, given how handsome, how muscular you are.” That was true, too. I was always naked, and no one ever said anything about it. You removed your strong grip from my wrist-thick cock and moved to sit beside me in the booth. I sat back down, taking my napkin to clean up the wealth of come I had erupted upon sight of your face. You set your larger hand on my own and said, “I wouldn’t worry about that. Something tells me there’s more where that came from.” I felt my balls throb and tingle. They seemed to swell eagerly at your words, as if responding to some order. “Now then,” you said, turning towards me, “what did you want to talk about?” I thought about what you asked as I looked at your impossibly beautiful face. Your eyes were kind, but also fiery with lust. Your lips were begging a kiss, soft and warm and full. Your neck was thick with power, stretching out to shoulders so wide that I had to turn my head on my own neck to see from one end of you to the other. You were head and shoulders above me, even sitting, and I was in awe and strongly, nearly irresistibly attracted to you. “About…” You smiled and I came. You had been correct. I felt a hot, wet splatter on my thickly muscled, naked chest as my dick swelled and my balls pumped out a fat fountain. You dipped your fingers to the suddenly physical manifestation of my lust for you, gathering a thick gobbet of my cream onto your fingers before moving them towards your lips and pushing it inside your mouth. I came again as I heard you moan. It was a feral sound, animalistic and needful. I closed my eyes and sighed and came again, splattering a fat load on my neck and chin. Your mouth - your warm lips and tongue - lapped at my neck and slurped my cum inside. “You said you’re a writer.” Your warm breath on my skin. I opened my eyes, trying to focus my attention on speech rather than pleasure. Just being near you was keeping me at the edge of exploding. “Freelance journalist,” I said. “And you wanted to interview me.” “Yes,” I verified. “Why me?” I had already written the introduction to the article I intended to write, so I repeated it to you from memory. “You are the epitome of male beauty - human masculine perfection in physical form. No other man on the planet is as handsome, as strong, as powerful, as unique as you are. Your pure masculine beauty is unmatched, as is your muscular development and perfection of physique. Reports of your sexual escapades, erotic talents, and carnal abilities approach unimaginable extents. You define masculine perfection in every aspect of your being, from your voice to your face to your body. It’s said you can make someone experience a powerful orgasm with nothing more than a look. The world allows you - demands, in fact - to remain totally naked so that we’re permitted the gift of looking upon the unyielding and total perfection of every unbelievable inch of your physical presence.” You shrugged, as if this was commonplace. “I’ve been lucky,” you admitted. “Is it all true?” “More than you know. And do you know how this is all possible? How I became the man I am? The man here with you in this place?” I shook my head, speechless, enamored and enthralled by the tone of your voice, the deep masculine power in every utterance, the way your supple lips moved, the play of your long, wet tongue and my imagination running wild in carnal directions about your lips and tongue on my body. “I am able to alter reality. I only need utter what I want, and it becomes real. It’s a talent I discovered purely by accident, and one I can’t explain, other than to say that it is true, undoubtedly so, and there appears to be no limits to what I can do.” You paused as I absorbed all of this, about to ask for further details, when you placed your finger on my lips and added, “Only no one in the world but me knows that.” “Knows what?” You smiled and I nearly came. My dick swelled and throbbed and jerked with a spasm of pure happiness. “I suppose you’re a better judge of that description than I am, but I can confirm that I never wear clothes - but then neither do you - and my sexual appetites and experiences may extend well beyond what most others may be capable of, and, yes, admittedly there have been times when someone else has experienced…let’s say a rather dramatic reaction to my glance.” Your eyes zeroed in on mine. I gasped and groaned and sighed and came again. Hard and thick and powerfully. I shot a rope of cream above us in the booth and it struck the wall behind us with a resounding splatter. Something about you when you looked at me. My breath was ragged and I was having a difficult time concentrating on anything beyond the godlike pulses of pure sexual pleasure that were engulfing me. You parted your lips and I hoped for a kiss, but you said, “Let’s talk about you.” “Me?” “Yes,” you said, licking my cream from your lips. You leaned closer to me. I could smell you. I could smell your masculine essence. You smelled like a locker room. You smelled like a football field. You smelled like leather and sweat and muscle and ass. “You’re a very handsome man,” you remarked, and then you leaned towards me and set you wet tongue to my skin and sucked my cream from my neck. I felt myself grow hot under your scrutiny, but hot from lust as well. I ached to lean towards you and press my lips to yours. I ached to taste myself inside your mouth. I could feel my cock pulse and my balls tighten and I knew I was close to another eruption. You looked down, noting the hard, gleaming redness of my prick. “Are you going to come, again?” “I think so,” I answered. “You’re going to come inside my mouth,” you told me. “Yes,” I agreed. Nothing would have pleased me more. “And when you come inside my mouth,” you said, leaning your brutally beautiful face towards my throbbing meat, “you’re going to come harder and thicker and with more pleasure and satisfaction than you have ever experienced in your entire life.” “Yes,” I agreed. Of course I am. You opened your mouth and I could feel the warm, wet heat of your breath against me. I sucked in a long breath and sighed and closed my eyes. I could feel your soft lips against the tip of my prick. You were kissing me, there in the restaurant. Your large hand grasped my wrist-thick cock and your tongue bathed the head with slick wetness that drained down my fifteen inches like warm honey. You teased and caressed me, you worshiped me, as I longed to worship you. Then I felt your mouth envelope me entirely and my balls seized up and my toes curled and my hands balled into fists and every muscle on my carefully developed body flexed into tight power and I exploded inside your mouth. I clenched my jaw shut hard to stifle the scream of absolute bliss that built inside me and wanted release. I squeezed tears from my eyes against the utter joy of the sudden and complete orgasmic satisfaction that originated from my hard meat and resonated through every cell of my body as I shot a fat, thick, hot load of cream inside your mouth. I heard - and felt - you groan with pleasure as you swallowed the sudden thick jets of cream I was somehow unleashing, harder and thicker than I had ever experienced in my entire life. It felt like an explosion. It felt as if, had your mouth not been there to swallow my load, I would’ve shot so hard out of my cannon that I’d have blasted clean through the roof of the restaurant. It felt as if my soul was leaving my body through my cock. The intoxicating level of sexual bliss was nearly overwhelming. I pumped into your mouth over and over and felt the burden of my balls empty inside you as you moaned in satisfaction and your throat swelled with every fat fountain I came. How long did it go on? How much cream had I managed to produce? Did I black out? Did this happen with every man you met? I opened my eyes only when I felt your mouth on mine, and your tongue pressing against my lips, and I opened my mouth and you slid your warm, wet, pliable tongue inside and bathed my senses with the taste of my own cream, as if I had magically managed to suck on my own cock and fulfilled a fantasy I never knew I had. When you pulled away, I said as much, savoring the flavor that filled my mouth, saying how I wished I could taste it like that. “But you can,” you told me. “You’ve always been able to pull the length of your fat cock inside your own mouth and deliver the same level of sexual bliss, the same explosive wealth of hot, delicious cream down your own throat.” I remembered doing so only that morning. How I had practiced to allow my body to bend in on itself and the curve of my huge prick was exactly perfect to slide into my mouth and down my throat and I would suck my own prick and come over and over, feeling a sense of warm satisfaction that nothing else could deliver. My dick was still hard and now I felt the cooling air on its spit-slick surface and you stroked me with loving tenderness. “Your cock is incredible,” you said. I looked at it with unbridled joy and happiness, enraptured by my wonderful cock. “You can come like that whenever you want to,” you said, “and you can become hard when you wish it, or stay limp and allow your fat prick to dangle like a promise over those magic balls that are always filled with delicious fat loads of warm creamy come.” I looked at my beautiful fat prick as you slowly stroked my thick inches and felt pride and vanity. I loved my cock. I loved what it could do - what I could do. You bent your soft lips to the mouth of my prick and kissed me with gentle devotion. “But whenever we are together,” you said softly, “your level of sexual gratification - your utter orgasmic bliss - is compounded ten-fold.” I realized it was true. With others, I would always feel fully satisfied. Even when I used my own mouth on my marvelous and majestic cock, when I came it was like the stars exploding. But when I am with you - and only you - nothing else compares. You looked at me as you leaned back in the booth, spreading your arms along the back and relaxing into the soft leather. “What would you care to do with me, now?” “Everything,” I said. You smiled. My cock plumped and a thick drool of cream ran down its sides. “Everything is a lot. Let’s see if we can’t focus on something we’d both enjoy.” You reached over to stroke me. I watched your hand move up and down my towering erection and I pumped another thick wealth of cream to help lube your grip. You squeezed me hard in your vice-like grip with approval. It was pain and pleasure in equal doses. “How do you feel about these other people here?” “What do you mean?” “They’re acting as if this is all normal. That two naked, well-muscled, thick-dicked men always wander into this place and sit in this booth and pleasure each other. We’re having a very public sexual encounter and yet no one here is bothered in the slightest. Would you like it to be shocking to them? Do you want someone to object? Would that excite you?” I thought about what you said. No, I thought, I loved this. I loved the fact that naked men wandered freely, and engaged each other openly, and could expose their marvelous, beautiful bodies and cocks so wantonly. “I want others to do it too,” I said. “Others? Anyone in particular?” I looked beyond the fat shank of sex you were engaged in stroking, sending continuous throbs of hot sex into my massively muscled frame, and I pointed towards a waiter I had noticed when I had entered earlier, wandering in from the street in my unashamed nakedness, my fifteen-inch prick hanging like another limb over my pumping balls. “Him,” I said, and then I pointed towards a pair of business men in suits, talking quietly to each other with their phones in their hands. “And them.” You stroked and squeezed me, teasing another fat delivery of cum from my balls. I moaned in utter bliss. “The waiter is quite handsome,” you remarked. I looked at him again and was struck by his features. He was amazingly beautiful! “He is not as tall as you or me, but he has a well-developed body and a fat prick. You can see it bulge in his pants,” you said. I looked down at the young man’s full basket. It looked like he had stuffed a salami in his pants along with two tennis balls. “I like that they wear leather pants here,” you said. “I like that they’re so tight, so expertly fitted, that nothing about a man’s anatomy is left to the imagination.” I could see the heavy outline of the waiter’s massive meat pressing along his thigh. I could even discern the flared edge of the head of his cock, as well as two swelling round balls split at the center of his groin. When he turned to pour water into someone’s glass, the bulbous beauty of each mound of his bubble butt seemed to jump out like beach balls. I heard your voice again, like a tongue in my ear, like the growl of a lion. “I’m not sure that shirtless waiters are quite as sanitary as they might be, but it would be a shame to hide his thickly muscled torso - that handsome chest and those six-pack abs, so well-defined and expertly honed - under a shirt, no matter how tightly it fit.” I had to agree. The waiter’s torso, while nowhere near as thick and heavy as my own, was nonetheless quite beautiful. He looked like an Olympic-Level gymnast, with smoothly developed lobes of hard power everywhere. “He reminds me of a Tom of Finland illustration,” I remarked. “Yes,” you agreed. “As a matter of fact he does. It’s almost comical how perfectly that description fits him.” I remembered the picture that matched his features, and as you said it, I did laugh slightly because he was an almost exact match, even down to the absurdly over-sized nipples and the oddly out-of-date hair style. He even had a “porn ‘stache” on his upper lip, but the overall effect was both highly erotic and deeply sexual. “I bet he can fuck like a stallion,” I remarked. “I bet he can,” you agreed. At that moment, the waiter turned towards us and leered in our direction with a lasciviousness that made me cum again. He reached down with his free hand and moved it along the thick shank of cock forced along his thigh, winking at us both. He even shoved his hips forward, mimicking the action that I had just spoken. “What about our other friends?” you asked. I looked at the businessmen with their phones out. They did not appear particularly remarkable. I was even about to comment on it when you said, “Don’t you think the blonde one on the left is beautiful? Do you like long hair on a man? I think it’s quite becoming on him.” It did frame his face rather well, And now that I looked again, he was a beautiful man. “How old do you think he is?” I asked. “Twenty two,” you said. “Young and hung and full of cum.” I watched the man on the left as he adjusted in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable for some reason. “And his companion, the red-head. Don’t you think that full beard is handsome? And I wonder how he managed to find a suit to fit such a broad and muscular frame. It looks almost as if his thick and furry chest is stretching the buttons of his shirt to their limit.” The red-headed man’s shirt was, indeed, nearly ripping itself apart just to try to contain the obviously massive pecs mounted on his chest. His shoulders were very wide as well. “Why would he buy his shirts so small?” I wondered aloud. “Particularly when you and I are nude,” you observed. I looked at you and you leaned over to kiss my mouth again. I came a fat fountain that shot some distance above us and splattered on our naked flesh. “What do you think will happen next?” you asked. I looked again at the shirtless gymnast waiter in his painted-on leather pants with the massive length of thick cock along his thigh. “The waiter looks so uncomfortable in those pants,” I said. “Perhaps our blonde friend can offer some relief,” you offered. I watched the blonde man turn and summon the beautiful waiter over to their table. I could not hear what they said, but the waiter smiled brightly and set his water carafe on the table. “What do you…?” My unfinished question was answered when the waiter thrust his over-burdened groin forward and I watched the blonde man begin to undo the waiter’s pants, unlatching his belt and unzipping the tight leather until the man’s thick prick practically sprang forward, relieved at last to be uncaged. “My god,” I said, marveling at its size and beauty. “Yes,” you agreed, “he owns quite a prodigious tool. How big is it, do you think? Is it as big as yours?” You squeezed and stroked me, and I throbbed and swelled under your attentions. “Bigger,” I whispered. “Really,” you asked. “How big?” “Seven…eighteen inches.” “The waiter owns an eighteen-inch cock?” You seemed to laugh but it was undoubtedly true. We both watched the blonde welcoming the waiter’s ungodly and impossibly huge prick into both of his hands, looking at it with lust and hunger. “It seems impractical,” you observed, “to own a cock so large.” It stretched forward from the man’s body like a sausage, the head a swollen plum. “I’ve never seen one so big,” I agreed. “Even mine?” I looked at you and shook my head. “No other man’s prick is as large or as beautiful as yours,” I admitted. “That’s true,” you agreed, though I heard no boastfulness in your voice. It was simply a fact. No one else in the world had a cock so huge and beautiful and perfect as yours. I was going to look down at it, lying in your lap, to marvel at is size and beauty when you called my attention back to the waiter and his attentive friend. “What will the blonde man do next?” you asked. “Kiss it,” I said. Almost in response to my spoken instructions, the blonde leaned forward and pressed his lips reverently to the massive shank. “He’ll kiss its entire length, starting at the top and working his way to the waiter’s groin.” “He will,” you agreed. He did so, just as I had predicted, The waiter bent his head back and opened his beautiful mouth as if this simple action felt as good as a blow-job, that finally allowing his monster free to be worshipped so openly was causing him great sexual pleasure. “He loves it,” you observed. “He loves when someone else allows him to show off the massive cock in his pants. He has to hide it so often that when he’s finally allowed to release the beast, it’s like sex to him.” I watched the waiter experience something like an orgasm as the blonde man kissed his cock. I came in unison, pumping another fat fountain from my own thick prick that bathed it in wet warmth as you continued to stroke me. “But he’s not coming,” I said. “Not like you,” you said. I came again. Your voice seemed to draw it from my balls. I pumped a fat fountain that shot upwards and splattered on my thick chest like hot rain. “No, when this happens, when another man is worshiping his amazing cock, he experiences a level of orgasmic pleasure that feels like he’s coming, but he can contain his load.” “Is that possible?” I asked aloud. “Anything is possible,” you answered. I looked at your impossibly beautiful face, realizing that was true. “Does it hurt?” I asked. “Not at all,” you said, looking back at the two of them in the center of the busy restaurant. “It feels exactly like he’s coming, but he’s not.” “When does he come?” I asked, marveling at this unusual talent. “Only when he wants to,” you said. “Like you.” I wanted to come as you said it, so I did. I pushed up a thick flood that poured from the mouth of my fat dick like honey and drained down the sides where you continued to stroke and pleasure me. “The redhead looks unhappy.” “That’s because he’s a bit jealous of his companion. What do you think would make him happy?” I licked my lips and said the first thing that came to my mind. I felt free to express my fantasies with you, to tell you what I wished could happen, no matter how silly or impossible it seemed. “To grow,” I said. “Taller?” I nodded my head. “Bigger. Stronger. Like…like the Incredible Hulk.” “Is he the Incredible Hulk?” “No. But…but he can grow when he wants to. That’s why his shirt is so tight. He…he’s in love with the blonde man, but he hasn’t told him. He…when he got dressed to come here, he looked in the mirror and decided he wanted to impress his friend, to make his friend want him.” I came again, pleased with my description and eager to watch it. You gripped me hard as my come coated your hand. “So he grew?” I nodded. “He grew muscle. He grew bigger.” “And now…?” “He can’t help himself. He wants the man’s attention back. So he’s going to grow again.” You leaned towards me, to watch him alongside me. You whispered, “How big can he grow?” “Huge,” I said softly. excited by the prospect. I watched the red head slowly stand. Already the seams along the sides of his suit were splitting. Buttons popped off his shirt like bullets, flying across the restaurant. “Describe it to me,” you said. “Describe to me what happens between those three men in this restaurant here today. Your words will make it happen.” I felt something odd come over me. I felt suddenly powerful, or empowered. I felt…magical. . . . I took a chance on you. Who could blame me? Your imagination was so strong, so…vivid. Perhaps being a writer helps. You were so excited by what was happening around you! You never showed the slightest hesitation or fear, at least not to me. I’m not clairvoyant, you understand. No one can predict the future, for the simple reason that it hasn’t happened yet. Even I can’t predict the future, I can only alter it, change it…. Improve it. I could practically smell your excitement when I entered the room. Of course, all eyes turned to me. I was unavoidable. Once you look at me, you can only stare, unable to fully comprehend what you’re seeing. Even as you stare, your eyes opening wider to let all of me in, every inch of this body, every facet of this beauty, you are unable to fully believe that I am real. But I am. I am real. Everything is real. As I sat next to you stroking that mammoth ever-spurting prick you had chosen for yourself, with its impossible girth and unwieldy length, I understood that you did not want things to remain “normal.” You wanted more, so much more. I knew that desire, of course. I lived it daily. When I pushed my mouth over your fountain of cream and swallowed your sticky, rich flow, I knew you would be as unsatisfied as I was with the world, and would be eager to change it - and yourself. That’s all I needed, really. Belief is halfway to reality. It just takes a slight nudge and there we are, together, you and I, in the world which we create. You took my nudity in stride and welcomed it into your world with equal facility. Some balk at it, find it odd or uncomfortable, but you didn’t. Not for a moment. And then you added that second notion, of a monster cock you could make come on command, and I wondered how far things would go today. I had to define a few things to allow your imagination to kick into gear, to allow you to begin to believe your own words. The hair color of the gentlemen. The leather pants. But you were soon off and running, suggesting Tom of Finland and The Hulk as jumping off points. Nothing wrong with that. Something familiar before moving into terra incognita, allowing your own ideas to bloom. A few commonalities to get the juices flowing, so to speak. And by god, did your juices flow! They exploded from you, let’s be honest. I felt your huge new muscular body shudder with every orgasmic release you allowed yourself. You became insatiable, sinking into the realization that you could now sit there in public and pump gallons of come up the thick inches of your new cock and wallow in its power. No more sitting alone in your room with your dick in your hand and stroking until your body tired of it, now you owned a massive cock that would fountain a sticky load anytime and anywhere, displaying your overwhelming sexual power because you were pleased. I realized that now you would stride the world in your naked glory, that absurdly thick fifteen-inch prick at the ready to plump to erect attention and start exploding cream because you wanted it to. You could dip your mouth to its flowing fount and drink deeply of the salty spunk your overflowing balls would pump down your throat because you wanted it, you needed it, you loved it. We sat beside each other there, you in your new form, me stroking your dick, two naked muscular behemoths engulfed in our desires, and I told you, “Describe to me what happens between those three men in this restaurant here today. Your words will make it true.” A few limitations, yes. Those three men, and no others. In this restaurant, and no further. Today, in this moment, as I watched in case you truly went too far. I had misused a simple word before, ‘now,’ and had learned a lesson from it. Now was forever. It was always now. And now I was the most beautiful, the most powerful, the sexiest man in the world. There is such a thing as going too far, believe it or not. I know, because I have been there. Luckily for you, I was able to bring us all back from that madness to where we are. Reality can be a tricky bitch sometimes. I hung my right arm across your broad, muscular shoulders and with my left hand, I continued to stroke your monster, the contact of my skin against your sending vital, unyielding, powerful sexual pulses into your body as your balls continued to manufacture the warm, wet cream that you would pump and fountain at irregular intervals. It coated our skin like paint, and puddled beneath you and drained to the floor. The smell of sex permeated the space, now, rank and delicious. We looked at the tableau we had conceived together; the shirtless hunk in tight leather pants with his foot-and-a-half long prick extended before him like a dousing rod, the beautiful blonde reverently worshiping that monstrous phallus with strokes and kisses that were making the waiter experience an orgasm of immense size, and his musclebound red-headed companion who was growing both jealous and more muscular, as if one was feeding the other. And then I handed you the keys, and let you drive for a while. “He…” “Be specific,” I told you. “It’s important. Which ‘he’?” “The redhead, he stands up and he’s already starting to grow.” “Grow how? Be specific.” “It starts with his muscles. It always starts there. He…he couldn’t control it when it started happening to him. But now he can.” “Good,” I said, squeezing your dick. You pumped up a fat fountain and I leaned over to capture it in my mouth. You taste so good. You shuddered and moaned as my face appeared before you and you came again. A nice reward for me. I appreciate it. “He…the redhead, he can tell it’s starting so he closes his eyes to channel it.” “What does that mean?” “He’ll grow too fast - too powerful - if he doesn’t control the growth.” “Good,” I praised. Limits are necessary. Things get out of hand too quickly, otherwise. “It starts with his muscles,” I prompted. You nodded. “They begin to swell, both with size and power. He is even stronger than he looks, because the muscles, they’re super strong.” I looked at the man in question. He was standing with his feet wide, his arms held out, his hands balled into fists. He was breathing hard, his eyes closed. I could see his chest pushing against the shirt, and suddenly the buttons were flying off like bullets, torn free and firing across the room. “His chest is growing, and his arms and his legs. Every muscle is growing.” The seams of his suit were beginning to rend. The material was trying to hold together while the threads that held the pieces together ripped open. “Does he grow taller, too?” I asked. “Yes,” you said, and then he was. I could see his neck swell with power as his head began to rise. The hem of his shirt was being pulled out of his pants and the sleeves of his jacket looked like sausage casing filled with too much meat. “He’s furry,” I said, because I wanted him to be. “Yes,” you agreed. Now that his chest was pushing forward from his open shirt, we could see a thick carpet of that same copper hair in thick curls across the growing expanse. “Now that he has control, he opens his eyes,” which he did, “and he looks at his lover and the handsome waiter.” “Is he angry? Is he sad?” “He’s turned on. He’s massively turned on.” There was a sudden prominent bulge in his pants, pushing hard against his zipper. “The bigger he grows, the more turned on he becomes.” “Describe his size for me. How big are his arms? How tall will he become? How much will he weigh?” “His…he has…his arms are only twenty inches now, but they can swell to thirty.” I tried to hide my surprise and pleasure. Such imagination! “He can grow as tall as eight feet, if he wants to.” “If he wants to? Do you want him to?” I asked as he stretched his arms out to his sides and another resounding rip sounded as his jacket split and his massive arms began to emerge. “Yes.” The redhead bent his arms and his face took on a look of intense concentration (which, may I add, increased his handsome visage rather perceptively). A smile came to his lips which increased into a toothy grin as he pumped increasing power into his arms, inflating them with muscle. The material of his jacket and shirt ripped itself apart under the sheer strength of his increasingly powerful muscular onslaught and he was then standing there at the edge of the table with the cuffs of his shirt clinging to his wrists, but the remainder of his swelling upper body now as naked as the waiter’s. It was now clearly evident that he was swelling with power and growing in stature and width by the second. The muscular development crawled across his body beneath his furry skin like thick bands, pushing outward from the deep indent between his pecs and blooming across his shoulders and around his arms in ever increasing size. He was coated in a dense forest of copper curls and his skin began to gleam with sweat as he strained to contain his power. “So beautiful,” I said, almost without thinking, but my words still possessed their usual capability and I watched him change again before my eyes, increasing in magnificence. “He has control,” you said, gifting the growing man with jurisdiction over his own body. “And his cock….” Here it comes, I thought. You had already given yourself a 15-inch, constantly spurting monster and the beautiful waiter owned eighteen inches. How large would our redheaded friend get? “His cock?” I repeated, amused and interested to hear your desire. “Even bigger than the waiter’s,” you predicted. “Bigger than eighteen inches?” “Much bigger.” The bulge in the growing man’s pants suddenly lurched with prominence and a thick length of meat shifted and began crawling down his leg beneath his tightening suit. Its expanse continued to swell and I realized that we needed some more specifics here or it threatened to become uncontrollable. “Twenty inches?” I asked. “Twenty…,” we watched that bulge swell even larger, and then you corrected yourself, “Twenty-four. Two feet of massively thick uncut cock,” you said. The beautiful bearded redhead was still smiling as he felt his equipment surge with impossible size, pushing urgently towards his knee and making that pant leg rip itself open. He reached down and ripped the pants from his legs entirely, revealing his still-swelling mind-blowing monster with pride and arrogance. This seemed to please him, because his massive prick began now to visibly throb and rise. As we had already agreed that no other man on the planet had a dick larger than my own, I suddenly felt mine swell and extend beneath the table, its weight and burden compounded by its new size, probably now exactly 24 inches and one millimeter in length. Already attuned to be super-sensitive and always ready to go, I felt its hunger and need sizzle in like growth, the luscious burden of its gargantuan size like a perfect, welcome burden of unlimited sex. “Are you sure it’s that big?” I asked, a bit concerned. I moved my cum-coated hand from your massive erection and placed it gingerly upon the fat shank of sex I now owned, thrilled at the rush of intense sexuality it delivered. There were often unforeseen ramifications when one tampers, but rarely did they impact my own carefully crafted perfection. But you nodded and whispered, “Yes.” No matter, I could fix this later, glad that I had the foresight to set limits to your imagination’s reach. I summoned my perfect self-control over this mighty and magnificent appendage and resumed slowly stroking your drooling prick. “Keep going,” I urged, interested to see how this would play out. “What about the blonde man, his companion?” You shifted your gaze away from the continuously swelling, nearly naked, hugely-hung man to his seated companion, still reverent in his worship of the waiter’s immense manhood. “What’s special about him?” You looked at the blonde-haired man who now appeared almost petite between the massive 18-inch cock he was worshiping and the swelling mass of muscle and an even larger cock behind him. “He….” You seemed hesitant to speak your thoughts. Were you scared, or ashamed? There was no need for either with me, so I prompted you. “Go ahead,” I said, squeezing your hard-on so the helmet turned shiny and red, “speak your fantasy. Put it into words. Tell me what it is about him. Why is he with the redhead, and why does he worship the waiter’s prick so intently?” “He’s my twin.” “Your brother?” You hesitated again. “Your clone?” Your mouth twisted up as you considered your answer. “Tell me,” I prompted. “My twin. He’s me, and I’m him.” "You exist in….” “Two places at the same time. There are two of me.” “There are,” I confirmed, and watched him change from one moment to the next. Indeed, he now looked to be your exact double, because he was you, also. “I wondered about that when I came in,” I said. “I wondered what that was like, to exist as two people, two beautiful men, sharing the same handsome face, the same powerful muscular body, the same tall frame, the same majestic and beautiful cock. And I see you both enjoy public nudity with equal relish.” Your other self was stripped naked and glorious before us, showing me what you looked like from a distance, your doubled glorious perfection on display for everyone to see. “We share everything,” you said. “I can…I can feel that man’s cock in my mouth. I can feel it sliding in and out, rubbing its rubbery head against the back of my throat. I can feel its heat and hardness, every vein and ridge. The taste of him.” “And vice versa?” I asked, stroking your dick with more gleeful force and pulling a fresh delivery of your endless cream over my grip. “Of…of course,” you managed to say, and I looked over to watch your twin’s eighteen-inch prick pump out a fat rope of cum in response to my manhandling of your cock. “Do you make love to him?” “Yes.” “And when that happens?” “All our sensations are doubled. I can feel him inside me and I can feel me inside me. He feels my bliss and I feel his.” Clearly, this was some secret fantasy you had been considering for some time. Perhaps there were even stories about this sitting on your computer at home, but with me there was no more need for fantasy. Your twin lover, naked and perfect, was now standing before you and you were watching him deliver an expert blow-job to an 18-inch prick with ease and efficiency. “And the red-headed man?” “My…our lover. The jealous kind.” The hulking brute now looked over at us together, and his body seemed to swell out with intense power. His heavy brow darkened and his eyes flashed. He was gripping his huge hands into fists, making think veins bulge on his ham-sized forearms. “Jealous of us?” “Jealous that he is not with us.” I smiled. How perfect! “He can be with us, if you want him to be.” “No,” you said, “he wanted to be there, with my other me, and the waiter. He wants to fuck the waiter.” “With his two-foot-long cock?” You nodded and came. A fat gusher of pure open perfect bliss as your beautiful sexual fantasies bloomed into reality before your eyes. We watched the red-headed, brutally beautiful monster of muscled power stride toward the waiter and wrap an arm around him. He towered over the smaller man and pressed his hard body against him and his towering prick looked frightening next to the object of his lust. “Is it possible?” I asked aloud. Even I was surprised that this was what you imagined. “Yes,” you said, making it possible. “The waiter is capable of pleasing any man, regardless of his size or desire. It’s his special talent. He is the perfect lover.” “What does that mean?” I asked, hungry both to see your imagination realized and to hear your description of what that meant to you. “He knows instinctively what you want. He can fulfill any carnal wish you have, any desire for sexual pleasure using his body or yours.” “He can,” I agreed, wanting to make this a permanent change. “He can accommodate my lover’s prodigious tool - or yours,” you added, somewhat generously I thought, “and make him explode with a brain-bending orgasm as his two-foot tool builds up to its inevitable and overwhelming crescendo, pumping thick, warm, sticky ropes of cum as he howls and growls and groans in utter bliss.” A heavy flow of pre-cum was now emitting from the bearded red-head’s cock. I could smell his sex from our booth, and you came again as if in response - and so did your twin. “Does he enjoy it, too?” “God, yes. There is nothing he would rather do than please another. His hands are magical.” “Be careful,” I advised. I knew you meant it in general terms, but with the power I had granted you that simple remark could lead almost anywhere. “You mean that….” “I mean that when he places his hands on you, your skin tingles with warm bliss. When he strokes your flesh, it is as if he strokes your dick. His tongue against you is warm and wet and when he pushed it inside your mouth, it has some strange and wonderful capability to make you cum as if he is lapping at your ass.” “And he does that too, no doubt.” “Of course, and there is no one on earth better at making you feel completely sexually satisfied.” “Except me,” I added, unwilling to give in. “Except you,” you agreed. “Because there is no one on the planet more wonderful and perfect than you.” “And that’s a fact,” I said. I turned my attention back to the trio and watched your lover rip the leather pants from the waiter’s magically accommodating ass and push his two-foot monster’s drooling mouth towards the world’s second greatest lover’s backdoor. Holy fuck, it looked as long as the other man’s entire torso! I had not imagined anything of this sort before, but watching your imagination blossom before us was starting to make my own gargantuan manhood swell and throb. I could feel it tingle with bliss and shove against the underside of the table, physically lifting it from the floor. I began to leak a flow of pre-cum like warm honey from a spigot. I clutched your dick in my hand and you exploded with a fountain of cum, gasping and groaning from the intensity of your orgasm. “You have more?” I asked, teasingly. I knew the answer but I wanted to hear your version. “I always have more,” you said, and I leaned my mouth down to your fountain and you rewarded me with another gushing surge of your warm cum, which I swallowed with ease and eager happiness. It filled me with pleasure, and an idea popped into my filthy mind as you came and came. Finally, gasping for breath, your massive muscles flexing with the effort of your unending orgasms, I pulled my lips from your cock and said, “I want to see you fuck yourself.” Your eyes were still closed and your chest heaved as you struggled to recover from the intensity of my mouth on your dick. You smiled and nodded. “And I want to feel it like you feel it,” I added, slowly stroking the hard inches of your constant erection. “I want to feel your cock in my ass, and my ass around your cock. I want to feel the sensation of fucking myself, kissing myself, loving myself - while I watch you make love with your twin.” You opened your eyes and moved from the booth, standing to your full height as your cock twitched and throbbed with anticipation and need. A fat flow of honey dripped from the mouth of your prick and you looked at your mirror image across the restaurant, your desire building, your anticipation rising. I could feel it, too, now. Your emotions were my emotions. Your desires were my desires. And you looked at yourself as your twin looked back. The desire and lust redoubled inside me, and then again as my own desire for both of you was wrapped around it all. My monster cock began to rise, splitting the table with its power, I leaned back in the booth and spread my muscled arms across the back of the seats and allowed my cock to swell higher and higher, breaking through the wood with its strength, rising like a tree that could not be stopped. You had created for me a two-foot long monster, wrapped in fat veins feeding its size and power, swelling thicker and heavier as it rose to its zenith, the head blooming from its thick cowl of foreskin like a fat plum dripping with seed. I could smell myself, the heady, sexy musk of my perfect body, a rich and powerful masculine perfume swimming inside the thick warm honey drooling down my massive meat. You met yourself on the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, and wrapped your arms around yourself, and pressed your lips to your lips and kissed yourself with unfettered and unlimited lust and love. My mouth warmed to that kiss, the sensation of kissing and being kissed, the feeling of your heavy, hard, strong arms surrounding me, the hard heat of your own cocks rubbing against mine, and against each other. I had never experienced any sensation like this, the total awareness of other men making love before my eyes as my body sank deeper and deeper into that joined perception. You and you, together, the same and different, and you allowed me in and I could feel every drop of emotion, every press of muscle against muscle, the increasing lust and desire and then you were coming, and you were coming, and I was coming, blasting thick fountains of hot cream from our cannons. By now, the redheaded Hulk was plowing the magically expanding ass of the beautiful waiter, pushing him across the table and thrusting deep inside him, growling with lust and release. The waiter, gifted now with sexual capacity and capability that approached my own overwhelming talents, surrounded the giant’s meat with warm throbs of pure sex, moaning as his smaller body was filled up entirely. The restaurant had come to a complete stop, all eyes focused on the giant and the waiter, or the twin “brothers,” or my unstoppable and devastating beauty as my own two-foot long cock towered from my loins and shot thick volleys of cum all over. I decided to make a gift to you and your imagination. “All that you have said is true,” I spoke, “and it will continue to be true,” making it real, making your twin powers reality forever, creating a world where you would now wander in naked glory, able to cum as you wished and be with your twin self in perfect love. Allowing the redhead to swell with muscle and cock whenever he wished it, and making of the handsome young waiter one of the world’s most talented and magical lovers. “I will continue to be the most beautiful and powerful man in the world, a vision of perfect physical beauty, and of overwhelming muscular size and strength,” I said, “and no other man’s cock shall surpass mine in size or beauty or perfection or ability.” I smiled and grabbed myself and came hard, shooting fat creamy fountains of delicious cream from my balls to splatter against the walls and tables and people, all yielding to my utter perfection.

You & I: The Hotel Room I approach the door to your room, wondering at my own bravery or cowardice about accepting this invitation, but your picture was too unbelievable to ignore. Did a real man - or a real human being - look like that? Was anyone that beautiful? Curiosity, then, lead me here. You said you had seen me in the bar, and you wanted to meet me. You wanted us to meet. I was unsure about all of this, the text message from someone I had never met (how had you even gotten my number in the first place?) the promises of experiences beyond my wildest fantasies, and then that picture of Your body! I figured you must have been spending some serious time at the gym - or in front of a computer Photoshopping the living hell out of that image. I usually had a strict rule about seeing someone’s face, but with a body like that, I made an exception. You looked flawless in that small image on my phone screen. I kept pinching and zooming in to look for seams in the image, or pixelated parts where you hadn’t been careful with his editing but I couldn’t find any. If that was a real picture of a real guy, I had to see this in person. Even if nothing else happened, I wanted to look at this guy’s amazing physique and ask him how he’d accomplished such mind-blowing perfection of size and balance! I lifted my hand to rap on the door when I heard a voice - absurdly deep, with a timbre that made somehow made my balls seem to tingle and the hairs on my arms stand on end - say “It’s open.” I put my hand on the knob and turned. You were sitting in a chair at the far end of the room. There was a large, king-sized bed to the right and the room was bright. The curtains were open in front of you, spilling sunlight everywhere and casting your body into silhouette, making it hard for me to see you, initially. Your back was to me, but already I realized that if nothing else, that image you had sent was not lying about your size. Even from across the room, it was clear that you were a huge - or beyond huge - individual. Huge in every way, as well. As my eyes adjusted I could see your back, swollen with distinct muscles, spread a yard wide. You were sitting with the chair backwards, so that you were fully exposed to me as I suddenly realized you were naked. You shifted slightly, jutting your butt out, and I think I even gasped. The spit left my mouth and my eyes probably grew two sizes larger. That butt. It was…awesome. Amazing. Indescribable. I could not move, as if you had mesmerized me with your beautiful, perfect ass. In that moment, I wanted nothing more in the entire world than to worship you. “You know who I am,” you said. Of course! Of course I did! Why hadn’t I realized when I looked at your image? You were…the one! That guy! Who else would be that huge, that broad, that impossibly and improbably built? I knew who you were, and now I wondered why I had been the lucky one to be summoned int your godlike presence. Then you spoke again, spoke in that voice that felt like sex, and you said, “I’m going to turn around.” My heart flipped in my chest and I tried to swallow. I could not move, I could not breathe. I was going to be given the privilege of seeing you in person. Of being near you. “Yeah,” I managed to answer, a single syllable. You turned your head slightly, so that I could almost see your face. Your handsome face. Your beautiful face. Your godlike face. “Are you gonna be okay?” I was again shocked at the sound of your voice. It made me want to come. My dick was already swelling with heat and size. “What?” You turned away again, perhaps understanding the impact the mere hint of your beauty was having on my body. “Are you gonna be okay? If I turn around?” God, I wanted to look at you. There was now nothing more I wanted than that, to be able to look at you there, across the room. “Yeah.” You stood up. And up. And up. I knew who you were and I knew you were the most beautiful and powerful man on the planet, but your size was still shocking to me. My brain was spinning, or was it the room? My legs felt weak and I could not seem to catch my breath. “I’m going to turn around now,” you said. God, your voice. The power! “I should warn you.” “Warn me?” “Yes.” You began to turn towards me, to reveal yourself to me, to allow my eyes to look upon your superhuman perfection. My heart was beating very fast and the world seemed to slow its pace as you turned your naked body and your handsome face towards me. All at once, like lightning, I realized that any former description of you, any fantasy or dream that someone had of you, that I had about you, could not dare to touch the reality of you. My god. My god. Stars erupted in my eyes as I tried to look at you. My dick plumped with a suddenness I had never experienced, as if you had reached across the room and touched me there, at the core of my lust and desire, and pulled come from my balls to splatter and splash inside my pants. Darkness enveloped me, but you seemed to glow. Your majesty and perfection was all I could see. Did you smile? Did you smile for me? I could not see for the beauty of you. You had blinded me to anything and everything else. So much power, so much strength. The lines of your perfect body, swollen with perfect muscle. Your arms, your chest, your stomach, your legs. Were you glowing? Was your strength so powerful that it emanated from you? Was your beauty so total that your mere physical presence could not contain it? You seemed to expand to fill the entire room. My eyes danced across the beauty of you, every inch of you, every millimeter. Naked before me. And your face. Your godlike face. Perfection. I was swimming in warm water. I was with someone, someone I couldn’t quite see or touch. But I knew who they were. I knew it was you, there in my dream with me, a man too perfect to look upon, a man possessed of such power and strength that being near you was like being near a lodestone that drew me towards you. Irresistible and undeniable. I wanted to hear you speak, again. I wanted to experience that sensation of having some part of you inside me, doing things to me with your power, to hear your voice in my head and feel its power tug on my cock and lick my balls. “Wake up.” I was pulled from the warm water back into your room. I was on the bed, now, but I didn’t know how I had gotten there, or what had happened. “You can look at me without fainting.” That voice. Your voice. The power and beauty of it! I doubted that those words were true but I wanted to look at you. My god, I wanted it so badly. That was all I wanted to do, because the reality of your perfection was stronger than my memory of it. I forced my eyes open to look at you again. You were there, over me, looking at me. I nearly came again. How was it possible that such a man existed? But of course you did exist, because there you were. All I had to do was reach my hand forward to touch you and prove the reality of you, the impossible reality of your perfection. “Your eyes are blue,” you said. “Bright blue, like the sky.” Were they? Of course they were! People often remarked on my eyes, wondering at their unnatural color. I nodded slightly, tongue-tied by your handsome face. “You are naked like me,” you said. Yes. Naked. I want to be naked with you. “We are always naked, because everyone expects it. No one wishes us to hide our perfection. Not a single inch of it.” My perfection. It could not match his, of course, but I was proud of the way I looked, and the way others reacted to me. No one objected to my state of constant nudity, at my exposed cock and balls, at my bare ass, because I was beautiful. Like a work of art made flesh. Like a beautiful statue carved by an Italian master. Even so, I could not compare to him. No matter how beautiful I was, he was perfect. “How much do you weigh?” you asked me. I opened my mouth, almost embarrassed to report my weight to you, because you were so massive and so powerful, but I told you because you asked me. You smiled, then, repeating my weight back to me. “You weigh two hundred and seventy-five pounds.” Yes, I was very big by most standards. “Nearly all of it is muscle.” I loved my body. I loved its muscle. I could feel it now, its weight and hardness and strength, feel it along my arms and legs. “You have 8% body fat.” I was proud that I had worked so hard to achieve this level of development. I had won contests. I was stronger than anyone I knew - except for you. No one was as strong as you. “How tall are you?” I told you to the inch. You smiled (almost causing me to come again) and nodded. “You’re six feet nine inches tall.” You said. I usually towered over everyone I met. I entered a room head and shoulders above everyone else. I loved being tall and powerful. I wanted more. “Do you like being that tall?” “I… I wish I was taller.” “Six ten?” “Even taller,” I admitted. I could deny you nothing. “Seven feet tall.” “You are seven feet tall,” you said. Something shifted or snapped. God, I loved being this gigantic muscular god. I loved being naked all the time. I loved to show off my power and my beauty. Your lips were moving again. I loved watching you speak. I loved hearing your voice. “And you weigh…” “Three hundred pounds,” I said. I had been so proud - so excited! - when I finally surpassed that milestone. Seven feet tall and three hundred pounds, but still an insignificant insect in the presence of this god of might and beauty. “Yes. You do. You weigh three hundred pounds.” You moved your hand to my head and brushed back some stray hair, looking intently into my bright blue eyes. “Your face,” you said. “Have you always been so handsome?” My heart swelled with love and happiness. I could hardly believe the words you were saying to me. “Am I?” “Yes,” you repeated, “you are.” My dick, proudly exposed in its glory for all to see, began to throb and swell with pride and love. I wanted your approval. I wanted your attention. And now you were complimenting me - me! - when your own physical perfection was unsurpassed. “The way your blue eyes are set off by the short, jet black hair on your head. Your strong, squared jawline gives you such a masculine demeanor. And I like the way you maintain that shadow of stubble, the way it enhances your intense beauty.” I blushed. “I always thought I had large ears,” I said, because it was quite true. I remembered looking at my handsome face in mirrors and scowling at those ears. “No,” you said, “they’re beautiful. They stick out slightly,” you agreed, “but that gives me something to hold on to when you’re sucking my cock.” At the mention of it, the mention of your beautiful and magnificent prick, my own pulsed and swelled with recognition and desire. My god, I loved your cock, and I loved to feel it swelling and hot inside my mouth as I sucked you with earnest lust. I loved it in my hand, to stroke it and squeeze it and marvel at its beauty and masculine power. “You love to suck cock,” you said matter-of-factly, because it was true. It was undeniable. I loved to suck cock! “You’re an expert. It’s as if you were born to do it, the way we fit together. I’m often amazed at the ease with which you can accommodate me all the way to the root of my cock. Every foot of me.” Every foot. Your massive, amazing cock! “And then when I come, when my magic balls finally pump the thick, hot flood of cream I can produce in endless supply, you swallow every drop.” Now I wanted him very badly. My whole body heated up with desire. My muscles, mighty and powerful, flexed and tensed. I moved to sit up on the bed to gaze upon it, the object of my sudden, unquenchable desire. It was true, I had some marvelous innate talent for blowing other guys. There was nothing I enjoyed more than sucking on cock. As I walked this world in my naked glory, as I met men of every variety, I would suck their cocks and they would come inside my mouth and gasp and scream and shout because no one - no one on the entire planet - was as good as I was. But no one’s cock could possibly compare to yours. And no one could deliver the massive loads of hot cream for me to guzzle like you could. I was insatiable for your come. I wanted to suck your dick until you started blasting fat ropes of salty, delicious spunk down my throat. “Every drop,” you said. “No matter how much we do it, or how much I come, you can take it all.” “I can,” I agreed proudly, anxiously. My hands curled into fists to stop myself from reaching forward and taking your cock without your permission. I looked down at it and could imagine its taste - your taste - your musky, masculine essence inside my mouth. “How big is it?” I asked. “Sixteen inches long,” you said. “Thicker than any other man’s cock in the world.” I knew it to be true. “Sixteen…” I watched your cock swell. “Soft,” you added needlessly. Because of course when you became hard, when your majestic and impossible and beautiful cock finally revealed itself, you were feet long. “But when I am aroused - particularly by you, because we are lovers and you are my perfect match - I grow inches longer. Inches thicker.” “Inches,” I repeated, remembering the sensation of swallowing your monster with ease and lust, and the feeling of your hard heat inside me. “And you swallow every inch.” You placed your warm hand against my broad, naked chest, rubbing your thumb against my nipple. “You’ve always told me that your nipples are very sensitive.” Sudden hard thunderous eruptions of pure sex emanated now from your touch and rumbled throughout my entire muscular form, zeroing in on my dick and sending erotic pulses of heavy sexual power into it. “Yes,” I whispered. “They are.” I could almost not withstand this attention. You continued to play with one nipple - just one - but the sensational eruptions of sexual bliss continued to rock my naked form. “Probably because your chest is so large.” I looked down where you were rubbing my nipple to look at my massive pecs. “It is.” Some had said my chest was outsized, that it was so massive that it looked ludicrous on my body, but I wanted it that way. I wanted a huge chest - two massive globes of powerful muscle, like bands of steel under my skin - because you wanted me that way. You began to describe my chest, and I swelled with pride that I could please you. My chest was a swollen mass of muscle, gifted with two intensely sensitive nipples nestled among the manly fur. “I can make you come if I play with your nipples.” I swooned and closed my eyes, feeling a sudden urge to pump a fat fountain of cream all over my chest. I could feel my prick swell and lengthen. “Your twelve-inch cock,” you said. Was it twelve? Did I own a foot-long length of meat? That didn’t seem right. I would remember something like that. “Twelve…?” “No,” you corrected. “Your fourteen-inch cock.” Yes. That was what I owned. That was what swelled up from between my thickly muscled thighs. A fourteen-inch prick, that I showed off with pride as I wandered the world in naked, unashamed glory. My fourteen-inch cock that was even now plumping and pushing as you continued to twist and rub and pinch my nipple. “I want to suck your cock,” I told you, because I did. I always did. It was all I ever dreamed of, and all I ever wanted. I was the world’s champion cocksucker, and you owned the world’s champion cock. “I understand,” you said, and I was bathed in your approval, “but first I want you to stand up.” I agreed and moved to obey, wanting nothing more than to please you, my god of sex and power. My body felt very heavy, but strong. I remembered that I was seven feet tall and weighed three hundred pounds, all of it muscle, with my heavy, massive chest and my fourteen-inch cock. I leaned up and stood on my feet before you, in awe of your massive size and incomparable beauty. I nearly came again, being this close to you, and felt pride and lust surge inside me as you looked at me. “Eight-pack abs,” you said. Yes. I owned an eight-pack, in perfect rows on my belly. My cock swelled and a sizzle of pre erupted up its length and poured forth from me in sheer joy at your attentions. “Turn around, please,” you asked, and I moved to obey, overwhelmed with bliss at my ability to please you. I could practically feel your gaze upon my naked body. I could feel it move across my back and down and zero in on my butt, like you were pouring warm water on my skin. “Your ass is beautiful,” you said, and I felt chills of joy at the sound of your voice. You touched me, then, and my cock plumped up even harder, if that’s possible. You cupped your wide, strong hands against the meat of my ass and said, “Your ass is round and thick and hard. Your ass may be the only thing on your body as large as your chest.” I thought of all the work I had done, the thousands of squats and the tonnage of weight that I used to push mass into my butt. I knew that it was huge, two large, round balls of muscle I paraded in my naked splendor like awards of achievement. Yes, I thought, my ass is glorious. You moved your warm touch to the outer edges of each rounded hump, remarking, “I love these deep dimples on the side, which attest to the power your ass possesses.” I tensed the muscle and made the masses plump and jut, two engines built for thrusting. “It’s a powerful ass, made for fucking.” Yes! Yes. For fucking. When I fuck someone, I fuck them hard and deep. I shove my fourteen-inch python inside their ass and pump them until they scream with pleasure. My ass is a fuck machine. My ass is amazing. “But this,” you said, moving your hands back together over the meat of my buttocks, sliding your powerful touch between the bulbous engines, “is the true miracle of your ass. Here,” you said, pushing the knob of your finger at the soft, wet, hungry hole at the center of my ass, “where you welcome me inside, the velvet grip of your ass, the control you finesse over our fuck, the way you’re able to control every inch, every millimeter as I push inside you and deliver thunderous throbbing erotic pulses of pure, unending sexual bliss until I release the flood of hot cream into your welcoming guts and you experience an orgasm so powerful that you nearly pass out - this is the most amazing part of your entire body.” My god was paying tribute to me. My god praised me and I was washed in his praise like sunlight. Yes, I thought, my heart exploding, my cock swelling bigger still, yes, you inside me, you fucking me, your perfect and beautiful cock sliding into my body where I could show how much I loved you, make manifest my love for you, worship the perfect tool of your perfect masculine power and suck on your sex with my talented and hungry ass. I can remember every fuck I have ever had from you, and each one was more glorious and perfect than the last. Other men may fuck me, for my ass is a tool of perfect pleasure, a velvet vise that welcomes men inside and provides unending tides of bliss as I massage and grip and stroke and fuck. My ass, the ass you gave me, but made only for you. You rubbed your digit against me and I opened myself to you and pulled your touch inside me. No matter what part of your perfection touched me, it was always the same. I groaned with deep sexual bliss and wanted to pull your whole body into mine, to show you how much I worship you, to give you all the pleasure it is possible for my body to give. “Thank you,” I managed to say. My god, my lover, my only. “Do you love me?” you asked. If it were possible for me to explode with love, I would have done so in that moment. “Yes,” I said, “I love you.” Of course I love you. I love you like I love no other. I love you with my soul and my life, and worship you with my eyes and my body. You bent your lips and pressed your mouth to mine. I felt you push your tongue inside my mouth, as long and thick and hot as a pliable prick, pushing yourself deeply inside me. I groaned again. I could not help it. You pulled me around, taking me into your powerful arms and pressed your naked body against mine. Your skin was like nothing I had ever felt, and I ached at the sensation of its perfection against mine. My fat cock surged with heat and I felt a fresh flow of honey erupt between us as we kissed, a kiss of perfect passion and deep desire and eternal love. I felt your hands stroke my body, and I tensed and flexed to display for you all the strength that was swelling in every ounce. Our mouths parted after some minutes, and you said, “I love you, too.” I could feel you between us, your heat and strength, centered on the tool of your ultimate power. I needed to show you how much I loved you. I needed to display my love for you, to deliver all the perfect bliss I was capable of giving, and to do so in the most perfect manner I knew. “Can I suck your dick?” You smiled. Your face was too beautiful to withstand. “I have a better idea,” you said. I wondered what you would ask of me, and I was only too eager to provide it. We stood in that room, our naked perfect bodies pressed against each other, my dick throbbing and pulsing and pumping sweet deliveries of warm honey in worship of you. “Let’s fuck.” “Yes.” God, yes. My asshole trembled and tingled with fear and anticipation. I wanted you inside me, but you were so huge. Would it hurt? Why did I doubt this? Had you ever hurt me? “But remember what happened last time,” you said. “Last time?” I could not remember the last time, but surely there had been a last time. I searched my memory of us together. You bent your lips to my ear, I could feel your warm breath against my skin and I closed my eyes and swooned, and you whispered, “Last time I fucked you…I fucked you so good, you gained twenty-five more pounds of muscle.” You smiled. “I remember,” I said. Of course. How could I have forgotten? The strange and amazing sensation of swelling with power as you pushed yourself inside me, as if every pump of your massive cock was pushing muscle along my limbs and making me bigger and stronger. I looked down at my massive chest. I controlled its muscle, made myself bulge and dance for you, made the mass of power display its control, flexing the impossible amount of thick muscle bulging from my upper body. “I think it was all here,” I joked. I pushed my pecs towards each other, flexing hard. The depth of the valley between my chest muscles increased by inches. Now you smiled, as well. “Maybe it was,” you agreed. “Do you think that’ll happen again?” I was hopeful to relive that experience. I could feel the sensation of growth and the increase of mass in my mind, the memory of it, but I longed to actually feel it again. “There’s an easy way to find out.” I felt your monster stretch to its full, awesome, impossible extents. Your mastery over it was total. You had but to desire it to grow and it obeyed, just as I obeyed, just as everyone obeyed in the presence of your perfect beauty and power. I dropped to my knees before you, moving my hands to hold your impossible and beautiful prick and began to lap against its inches, bathing you with spit. Though you had not allowed me to fully pleasure you, to take you inside me and bring you to eruption, I was determined to show you just what I could do even given this simple task. I knew that I would have to prepare you as fully as possible, so that I could be prepared for you as well. I gave your meat a tongue bath that you would never forget, slathering warm spit across every inch of your rock-hard erection as I stroked and worshiped you with my strong hands. Your prick glistened, dripping with my spit. I looked up at your perfect face and licked my lips, finally satisfied with my preparations. “I think you’re ready,” I said. I tried grasping the fat shank of your incredible cock in my hand. I squeezed hard. You tensed against me and grew even larger. I could not dent your massive cock with all my strength. “Are you?” you answered. Did you read the trepidation I was feeling on my face? Your massive meat rose before me - I was literally faced with your size and power. I could smell you, though, which made the heat of desire rise inside me and made my ass tingle and throb. There was no other cock in the world to compare to yours. No other man had its size, its power, its strength, and its ability to push so far inside me that I would scream from sheer pleasure as you found something that no other man could. “You know what I always admire about you?” you asked me. I stood up, attempting to match his bravado. “My overwhelming charm?” I joked. I moved my hand over the massive muscle of my chest, across my eight-pack abs, through the thick forest of my pubic bush and grasped my own thick hard-on. “Your…unique flexibility.” Ah, yes. How could I have forgotten? My body was large and powerful, yes, but also magically supple and elastic. Even with muscles so large and a frame so tall, it was amazing what I could do. I moved back to the bed and lay upon it facing him. Then I reached down to grasp an ankle in each hand and slowly, effortlessly, split myself apart before your watchful and admiring gaze. I felt my muscles stretch and pull, reveling in the feeling of this massive body obeying my desires without effort. I pulled my legs apart, wider and wider, opening my hole to your lustful gaze and welcoming your throbbing meat inside where I knew it would deliver its mind-blowing thrusts of pure sex over and over until I could take it no more. And then I would grow for you. Somehow, I knew it would happen. You smiled at me and moved one hand onto your hard-on. I watched the muscles lining the limb flare and bulge as you used your unrelenting strength to point your steel rod towards me. A fat gob of honey swelled at the eye of your massive snake and grew thick and heavy until it drooled from you onto me, dropping perfectly onto my hungry hole. My god, the feeling. It was just the slightest kiss of your sexual prowess, but it sizzled and tingled and throbbed like a hundred cocks. I felt my cock pulsing hard, constant throbs against my belly. I was drooling my own supply of honey that dripped across my massive chest and drained into the deep valley like a river. “Fuck me,” I said, I asked, I begged you. “I need you to fuck me.” I was beyond need. I was beyond lust. I would’ve paid any price, now, to feel you inside me. You moved your hands along the length of my outstretched legs. I trembled at your touch. “Your skin is so smooth and warm, so supple and sensual, like silk.” Others had said that to me, surprised that a man so big and rough had such soft and supple skin. I groaned pleasure at your praises and tried not to explode with cream. You bent closer and I felt the fat knob of your steel-hard erection kiss my ass. You moved yourself inside me with slow finesse, wanting to draw out this meeting and allow me to feel every fat inch as you entered. But I was anxious, I tried to pull you in. My ass was made for fucking. Made to fuck and to be fucked. I knew how to control it with ease and my own finesse, and I pulled against you with all my strength. Your cock became surrounded by the tight, velvet glove of my muscular body and I stroked you, sucked on you, licked you with tongues where no tongues existed. I looked up and watched you close your eyes and sigh before you finally began to thrust yourself all the way inside me, to the thick hilt of your massive meat. I could feel every fucking millimeter of your magical, massive prick as you effortlessly and perfectly pleasured me as no other man could. You leaned down over me, continually fucking my perfect ass, supporting your weight on your powerful arms and pushed your mouth against mine. You were hungry with lust, and I felt our twin tongues of unbelievable length and talent dance inside our mouths. You fucked me deeply and truly as we shared that kiss, and I lifted my arms to wrap them around your wide, muscular torso, lifting my body to your body. I wanted - needed - to feel the mind-blowing sensation of your skin against mine. We fucked and we fucked, minutes or hours or days, and then you suddenly shoved yourself home without preamble or announcement and exploded inside me! I could feel my guts warmed as you began to pump heavy fountains of hot cream over and over, pushing inside then pulling fat inches of your meat from my hungry and eager ass before shoving back in and exploding again. And again. And again. You came inside me. “Remember what happened last time,” you had warned. But I wanted this. I wanted to grow for you, to become more powerful still, bigger and stronger for you. And then I felt it. I felt it begin. A surging heat inside my arms and legs, wrapped around you as you fucked me, pushing your come inside me. I felt it in my butt and my chest. I felt my body begin to change. I looked at your handsome face, your godlike face, and smiled, and grinned, and laughed. “I can feel it,” I told you, wanting you to know what you had done to me. You smiled back, never stopping your magical fuck for a moment. “I can see it,” you said. I was swelling with fresh muscle. New fibers were multiplying into new bands, stretching across the mammoth expanse of my superhuman, outsized chest, growing fatter cables of thick power. My nipples, sensitive as pricks, tingled and throbbed. You were watching me grow with fascination and wonder, and you leaned down and extended your tongue, long and wet and warm, and licked my nipple. I had to groan with sheer bliss and I felt a sudden, overwhelming flash of sex explode inside me and I started to come, sending a fat, hot splash that splattered against your body. You welcomed it as we came together. “Come for me,” you said. “Come gallons of hot cream.” I gasped as I felt the dam break and my balls hurt and felt heavy. My cock grew hot, hotter than the sun, and felt tight and thick and I was suddenly exploding with cream. My cock shot my undeniable load all over both of us in thick ropes, again and again. You came inside me and your magical, muscle-building seed spilled hotly from my hungry ass as my cock kept erupting like some volcanic hose filled with cream. Overwhelmed with the power of the sexual eruption, I moaned and gasped and held onto your massive frame as my uncontrollable orgasm reached new heights, ascending peak after peak, growing stronger with every blast from my prick. “Yes,” you said, you whispered, you comforted, perhaps sensing my fear as the sensation of the orgasmic explosion threatened to overtake me entirely, “this is the most amazing experience of your entire life. You have never felt so perfect, so good, so pure, so masculine and powerful.” “Oh, my god.” I came gain. “How big will you grow?” you asked me. You kept pumping more cream inside me, hot and powerful, to make me swell with size and power and beauty. “Bigger,” I said. Yes. Bigger. That was all I wanted. You smiled with love and pride and watched me grow. “Bigger and bigger.” . . . When you entered my room on that day, you still looked ordinary. I had my back to you so you could see my butt. I had probably spent too much time on my ass if we’re being honest, making sure it was perfect, making absolutely sure it was the most beautiful ass that it was possible for a man to own, but as long as it was there I might as well start with the good stuff, right? You stopped dead in your tracks - like most people do when they meet me. I was sitting in a chair that I’d turned around, with my chest pressed against the back of the chair so I could afford you an unencumbered gaze at my perfect ass. I was also naked. Maybe that’s what stopped you initially, seeing a naked guy in that room in that hotel. But I’m pretty sure it was my ass that kept you immobile. “You know who I am,” I said. I’d modulated my voice so you didn’t automatically cream your jeans. That was a problem initially, but I’d finessed things so my voice was no longer so sexually powerful that I would inadvertently cause a man to spontaneously ejaculate. Now they would only do that if I wished it to happen. But that was never as much fun as more direct involvement. I kept my back to you. No need to make you pass out until I was ready for you - or until I had the chance to prepare you for me. You knew who I was, but that rarely fully prepared someone for the full power of my presence. You didn’t answer initially. Shocked, probably, at my appearance. Even from behind, I’m pretty amazing. I was anxious to get started on you - filling in some details. It helps if I can watch it happen. It helps me get things right, without my imagination running too wild and making me go back in to rewrite some of it later. It’s much harder to rewrite it than the initial suggestions. I’m not certain why, but I assume it has to do with all the connections that occur as a result of my manipulations. Some of them - most of them, really - I can’t predict with certainty. “I’m going to turn around,” I said. “Yeah,” you answered. There was a flutter to your voice. Uncertainty, maybe. Uncertainty about your own feelings at that moment, seeing me. Even if you’ve been aroused by another guy, it was certainly never to the extent that you were feeling it now. “Are you gonna be okay?” I think you swallowed deeply. “What?” I had to smile, and then I had to erase that from my lips. Smiling would almost certainly make your dick explode. “Are you gonna be okay?” I repeated. “If I turn around?” “Yeah,” you said, though there was doubt in your voice. Probably half bravado, half machismo. I could use that. It was always easier to amplify something that already existed instead of inventing it. I stood up, then, and I heard you gasp or swoon. Maybe even groan. I tried to keep my face neutral so I didn’t overwhelm you too much. My body is perfect, but for some reason it’s always my face that makes them really lose their shit. I should probably tone it down, reduce my superhuman beauty and allow them to look at me without popping an instant boner and pumping out fat ropes of cum, but I can’t help myself. I’ve spent too much time and energy getting where I am now to start pulling back from the peak of physical perfection. It’s all so intricate. No one really understands that part. A brushstroke out of place will ruin a masterpiece. There were millions of brushstrokes involved in the construction of my perfection, and I was a bit scared that if I started trying to erase one piece, another might start to fall apart. Like I said, everything’s connected. I stood to my full height, and my head would’ve been brushing the ceiling if I had not already altered the room’s dimensions to accommodate me. I could have easily lifted my muscle-swollen arms and pressed against the room’s limits to allow myself more room, but it was easier to make the adjustments in my head than clean up the mess of deconstructing a building for my personal benefit after the fact. I’d been tempering my strength measurements for a long time, trying hard to find the balance between being able to do whatever I wanted with these muscles of nearly limitless power without accidentally destroying things because I wasn’t cautious enough. Then there was the question of weight, of course. That much physical power and development required some pretty dense muscle fiber, and that all added to my overall weight. No sense in creating so much power in my body if I was cracking concrete with every step. “I’m going to turn around now,” I announced. “I should warn you.” “Warn me?” “Yes,” I said, and then I turned. At first I tried changing outward things, but that proved to be too hard. Making things better for me from the outside had too many variables I couldn’t control, but when I turned the changes on myself, I began to understand how powerful great beauty was. Then, as I improved myself, incrementally at first and then with larger, wholesale changes to every aspect of my physical being, I understood that I could do these things to myself and others would adjust partially anyway, because they wanted so badly to look at me, or hear me speak, or watch me move, or be with me. Then I started making myself over into the man I was now - but there were still adjustments required. Small ones, now, rather than large ones. Constant tinkering had brought me to this level of perfection and power. Initially I thought it would be great to be famous. “Everyone in the world knows who I am,” I said, and then it was true. But that proved to be more trouble than it was worth, so I reversed that and limited it down so I could function among others. “You know who I am,” was usually the first thing I told someone, and it eased our relations and helped them cope with who I was now. Or, “everyone here knows who I am,” and then I could walk around the city and not be causing accidents and fainting spells. Still, people could never be fully prepared for me. I tried being literal like that, saying “people are fully prepared for me,” but that’s not a precise statement. What did it mean, really? I guess free will had something to do with things occasionally going crazy, and I did what I could to resolve those problems. I turned around slowly, because I know that I can cause someone to have a heart attack if they see all of me too fast. My body is perfect. Maybe more than perfect, if there is such a thing. I wonder if everyone sees what I see in the mirror, or if they see their own version of masculine perfection when they look at me. Hard to say, of course, because I can’t see through their eyes. I tried that once, but it doesn’t work. I can change everything, it seems, but I can only be me. That’s a small price to pay, I think. I turned around. I used to say something like “You’re not going to come,” or “you’re not going to faint,” but the result was that their body refused to do the thing it needed to do very badly, causing pain or madness, so now I just turn around. Weird how things work sometimes. Your body shuddered visibly and your eyes rolled up in their sockets. You came, suddenly and ferociously…and then you fainted. I couldn’t help but smile. I lifted you into my arms and placed you on the bed. You were large for an average man, but quite small compared to me. Everyone was, now. Size, like beauty, is another way of overcoming boundaries in others. Sometimes they fear me. Sometimes they worship me. Sometimes both. I knew that your reaction would be swift and powerful, but I had hoped you could withstand the sight of me for longer than a moment. I looked down at my body and felt a strong pulse of sexual desire. I turned myself on, as well. After all, I was only human. My cock throbbed with a sudden, hard pulse of sex. The pulse grew hard and fast and ricocheted through me, as I had designed it to do. Sexual impulses were the most powerful sensation in me, now, and whenever I felt them they would swell to overwhelm every other sensation. I looked down at you and lowered myself to one knee to look more closely at you. I could change you now, of course. All I had to do was speak the words to change anything I wanted to about you. But it was always more…satisfying to do it when you were aware, to watch the initial disbelief melt into realization, and watch your attitude change as your body changed. “Wake up,” I said. Your eyes fluttered slightly as I called you back to reality. “You can look at me without fainting,” I instructed. It was more a suggestion than a command, allowing you to do something rather than requiring it. It works better. I could do nothing to mitigate your intense sexual attraction to me. That was unavoidable. Your eyes opened. “Your eyes are blue,” I said. I watched the ordinary color drain away and be replaced. “Bright blue, like the sky.” Your eyes were azure, almost turquoise now. “You are naked like me,” I observed, and you were, your clothing gone from your body from one moment to the next. “We are always naked, because everyone expects it. No one wishes us to hide our perfection. Not a single inch of it.” “My god,” you whispered, as you looked at my face. “How much do you weigh?” I asked. You blinked slowly, sleepily, and told me. You were still dazed by my beauty. “You weigh two hundred and seventy-five pounds.” Your body began to swell. “Nearly all of it is muscle.” The swelling altered as I spoke the words. “You have 8% body fat.” I cast my gaze along your frame and watched my words become reality. Your legs developed heavy, distinct wedges of muscle. It swelled up under your skin, which suctioned itself against the quickly developing brawn. Your soft belly hardened into a six-pack. Your shoulders stretched wider to accommodate the lobes of fresh, hard power. I watched your body as it continued to swell with power. “How tall are you?” You answered. I nodded. “You’re six feet nine inches tall.” Your frame began to stretch. “Do you like being that tall?” “I… I wish I was taller.” “Six ten?” “Even taller. Seven feet tall.” Your words were groggy. I heard your voice lower as your neck and vocal cords stretched. “You are seven feet tall,” I agreed. You groaned with obvious pleasure as your body changed. “And you weigh…” “Three hundred pounds.” “Yes. You do. You weigh three hundred pounds.” My heart was beating as your dreams turned real. You had a hunger for this, perhaps after seeing me, and my size and power and beauty. I had chosen well. Your body was changing moment by moment, swelling larger and larger. “Your face,” I said. “Have you always been so handsome?” “Am I?” “Yes,” I said, “you are. The way your blue eyes are set off by the short, jet black hair on your head. Your strong, squared jawline gives you such a masculine demeanor. And I like the way you maintain that shadow of stubble, the way it enhances your intense beauty.” “I always thought I had large ears,” you said, quietly, looking at my perfect ears. “No,” I said, “they’re beautiful. They stick out slightly, but that gives me something to hold on to when you’re sucking my cock.” “Your cock?” I nodded. “You love to suck cock. You’re an expert. It’s as if you were born to do it, the way we fit together. I’m often amazed at the ease with which you can accommodate me all the way to the root of my cock. Every foot of me. And then when I come, when my magic balls finally pump the thick, hot flood of cream I can produce in endless supply, you swallow every drop.” “Every…?” You sat up onto your elbows, your six-pack of strong abs swelling suddenly, and looked down at my prick. My perfect, beautiful, thick, long, gorgeous cock. “Every drop,” I repeated. “No matter how much we do it, or how much I come, you can take it all.” “I can,” you said. You looked at my face and offered me a smile. I watched the lines of your visage alter to please me. I watched your brow harden, and your cheeks lift, and your nose become proud. Your chiseled features perfected themselves to please me. You looked again at my prodigious equipment. “How big is it?” “Sixteen inches long,” I said. “Thicker than any other man’s cock in the world.” “Sixteen…” “Soft.” My prick matched my stated dimensions perfectly, lengthening from its former length because I had said so. Swelling to expand beyond any other man’s prick. “But when I am aroused - particularly by you, because we are lovers and you are my perfect match - I grow inches longer. Inches thicker.” “Inches,” you repeated, mesmerized. “And you swallow every inch.” I placed my hand on your chest, the pad of my thumb against your dark, prominent nipple, and rubbed it. “You’ve always told me that your nipples are very sensitive.” “Yes,” you agreed. “They are.” “Probably because your chest is so large.” “It is.” You looked down with pride in your muscular accomplishments as each mound swelled forward with muscle. “It is thick and hard, like two heavy globes of power, swollen with might.” It continued growing, the cleavage increasing as the twin pectoral plates grew fatter with muscle. “I can make you come if I play with your nipples.” Your cock jumped, arching up suddenly. “Your twelve-inch cock,” I added, and I watched it unfurl and swell, the head plumping and ripening. “Twelve…?” “No. Your fourteen-inch cock,” I amended. My heart skipped a beat as the head of your beast reached up to rub its weeping mouth against the back of my hand as I teased your fat nipple. It felt hot against my skin, pumped thick and hard with your blood. “I want to suck your cock,” you reported. Your eyes were closed and your handsome jaw was clenched as you attempted to withhold the massive orgasm I was building, just by tenderly rubbing the stiffening tips of your silver dollar-sized nipples. “I understand,” I said, “but first I want you to stand up.” “Okay,” you said, and I removed my touch from the rubbery point of your supple nipple and stood myself, taking a step back to allow you some room. You moved your legs over the edge of the bed, which was ludicrously small now for your seven-foot frame, and you pitched forward and stood on your powerful legs. I watched your cobblestone belly collapse and the weight of your massive chest hang forward as you gained your feet. Your fourteen-inch prick was rock-hard and wagged like another limb on your majestic and beautiful body. Your six-pack abs, “Eight-pack abs,” I said, watching two new ones swell into existence, inflated and receded as you pulled air into your larger lungs, and I watched your arousal and desire make itself physically manifest when your angry red erection started to drool a flow of pre-cum. “Turn around, please,” I instructed, and you pivoted where you were. “Your ass is beautiful,” I said. I moved my hands onto each rounded hump and gave instruction to you. “Your ass is round and thick and hard. Your ass may be the only thing on your body as large as your chest.” It plumped out into my large hands. The warmth filled my palms. “I love these deep dimples on the side, which attest to the power your ass possesses.” The roundness was deeply offset now by those divots on the side of each protruding muscular mass. “It’s a powerful ass, made for fucking.” “But this,” I said, moving my fingers in between the mounds of your mouth-watering butt, “is the true miracle of your ass. Here,” I said, touching the deep, wet heat of your hole, “where you welcome me inside, the velvet grip of your ass, the control you finesse over our fuck, the way you’re able to control every inch, every millimeter as I push inside you and deliver thunderous throbbing erotic pulses of pure, unending sexual bliss until I release the flood of hot cream into your welcoming guts and you experience an orgasm so powerful that you nearly pass out - this is the most amazing part of your entire body.” I rubbed my finger against you and felt you open to welcome me inside. I realized you were showing me the control I had just described. You groaned and cooed and twisted your head around on your powerful neck to look at me. “Thank you,” you said. “Do you love me?” I asked. This was something I could never control. The physical parts were always easy. The emotional parts, well, that was something no one controlled. “Yes,” you said, “I love you.” I bent my lips and pressed my mouth to yours. I pushed my tongue inside your mouth, as long and thick and hot as a pliable prick, pushing myself deeply inside you. You groaned again. I pulled you around, taking you into my powerful arms and pressed your naked body against mine. My skin was like nothing you had ever felt before. Smooth and warm, and you would never again feel anything as sensual as that. Your fat cock surged with heat and a fresh flow of honey erupted between us as we kissed, a kiss of perfect passion and deep desire and eternal love. I stroked your beautiful body, feeling the strength that was now swelling in every ounce of you. Our mouths parted after some minutes, and I said, “I love you, too.” “Can I suck your dick?” “I have a better idea,” I said. Your elegant and masculine eyebrow arched and your blue, blue eyes sparkled. “Let’s fuck.” “Yes.” “But remember what happened last time,” I said. “Last time?” I bent my lips to your ear, the ear that stuck out slightly in a way I always found so attractive, and whispered, “Last time I fucked you…I fucked you so good, you gained twenty-five more pounds of muscle.” You smiled. “I remember,” you agreed, and you looked down at that massive chest of yours and made it bulge and dance, flexing the impossible amount of thick power attached to your upper body. “I think it was all here.” The depth of the valley between your pecs increased by inches. Now I smiled, too. “Maybe it was,” I agreed. “Do you think that’ll happen again?” “There’s an easy way to find out.” My cock stretched to its full, awesome, impossible extents and you dropped to your knees to lubed up the monster with your talented tongue. Even though it was not a true blow job and you did not swallow me and pleasure me in the manner that I knew you could, I was still in awe of your talents and wondered what you could accomplish. Sometimes I am surprised by the results of my manipulations. My prick was bathed in spit and glistening. You looked up at my perfect face and licked your lips. “I think you’re ready,” you reported, attempting to grasp the fat shank of my incredible cock in your hand and squeeze against me, though I was hard as diamond and thicker than your muscled forearm. “Are you?” I challenged. I must confess that I had my doubts that you would be able to accommodate all of me, even though I had specified that you could - and what it would feel like for both of us. “You know what I always admire about you?” “My overwhelming charm?” you asked, your voice was a sexy growl that reached to my loins and stroked me. “Your…unique flexibility.” You nodded and moved onto the bed, onto your back, grasping your ankles in your hands and pulling your long, thickly muscled legs apart with effortless ease. I watched the muscle stretch and flex and your cock pulsed and throbbed against your abs, showing how intently you enjoyed displaying this aspect I had just given to you. I smiled for you, to show how pleased I was that this was how you imagined us joining together. your body in this position, with your arms and legs stretched wide and your pink, perfect pucker presented like a gift to me, was beyond beautiful. I grabbed my impossibly huge erection and pushed it downward, something no other force on the planet could have accomplished. The mouth of my gleaming wet cock opened and a spill of pre-cum drizzled out like honey, drooling onto the center of your entrance and kissing you with wet heat. You grunted intense pleasure as my essence touched him, tingling like a million fingers and tongues at the tight pucker. I moved myself towards you and touched the tip of my cock to your back door. You opened yourself with incredible finesse like an invitation. “Fuck me,” you said, you asked, you begged. “I need you to fuck me.” I moved my large hands along your muscular legs, so long and powerful, and said, “Your skin is so smooth and warm, so supple and sensual, like silk,” because it was, or it was now. I could feel the pulse of you under my hands. I watched blood pumping along the fat veins that lined your enormous limbs, swollen with strength. I looked down at your ass, your perfect ass, and the tight pink mouth that awaited me. We were two enormous muscular naked men on the bed in that room. You were seven feet high, and I was bigger than that, because I would always be bigger. The door behind me, behind my naked butt, was wide open and anyone who wanted to could stop and watch us, watch me pushing this monster inside of you, watch you groan and cry and whimper, watch my perfect and marvelous ass pump and flex as I thrust myself inside you, deep and true, delivering impossibly powerful pulses of overwhelming sexual bliss that no other man could possibly withstand. They could stand and witness this perfection. I had made you for me, and we were perfect together. I moved myself inside you slowly, and felt you seemingly pulling me with the power of your ass. It was, of course, exactly as I had described it. My cock was surrounded by the tight, beautiful glove of your body and you stroked me, sucked on me, licked me with tongues where no tongues existed. I closed my eyes and sighed in perfect pleasure and began to thrust myself all the way into you, to the thick hilt of my massive meat, feeling every millimeter of my magical, massive prick being effortlessly and perfectly pleasured as no other man could. I leaned down over you, keeping my hips in motion, supporting my weight on my powerful arms and pushing my mouth against yours, hungry with lust, feeling our twin tongues of unbelievable length and talent dance inside our mouths. I fucked you deeply and truly as we shared that kiss, and you lifted your arms and wrapped them around my wide, muscular torso and lifted yourself to my body, wanting to feel the mind-blowing sensation of my skin against yours. We fucked and we fucked and then I decided to come and I shoved myself home and exploded inside you, releasing heavy fountains of hot cream over and over, pushing inside and flooding your guts, then pulling inches of my meat from your hungry and eager ass before shoving back in and exploding again. And again. And again. I came inside you and felt you begin to grow. You looked at my face and smiled, and grinned, and laughed. “I can feel it,” you said, your voice already deepening as your masculine power and muscular strength began to swell even more pronounced and powerful. “I can see it,” I said, because I could. I could see you swelling with fresh muscle. I could see the fibers multiplying into new bands, stretching across the mammoth expanse of your already superhuman chest and growing fatter cables of thick power. yYour nipples spread like ink stains as you grew, and I knew they would be even more sensitive. I leaned down and extended my tongue, long and wet and warm, and licked your widening nipple. You groaned and a fat, hot splash of cum splattered on my body as you erupted, unable to hold back for one more second, the truest expression of your love and desire for me. “Come for me,” I told you. “Come gallons of hot cream.” You gasped and your eyes widened and your cock turned purple and shiny as you suddenly exploded. Your cock became a veritable hose that shot its load all over both of us in thick ropes, again and again. Gallons, I had said, so gallons it would be. Gallons of come from your magical ball sack. Swelling with the milk you produced now until I made you stop. Just like me. I came inside you and my magical, muscle-building seed spilled from your velvet vice as your cock kept erupting like some volcanic hose filled with cream. You moaned and gasped and held onto my massive frame as your uncontrollable orgasm reached new heights, ascending peak after peak, growing stronger with every blast from your prick. “Yes,” I said, “this is the most amazing experience of your entire life. You have never felt so perfect, so good, so pure, so masculineå and powerful.” “Oh, god,” you whispered. You came gain. “How big will you grow?” I whispered. I pumped more cream inside you, more come to make you swell with size and power and beauty. “Bigger,” you said. I smiled and watched your muscles expand. “Bigger and bigger.” I smiled and leaned over you. “You can do this, too.” “What?” you asked. “What can I do?”

Twenty-seven Tomas awoke from his deep and peaceful sleep. He stretched his 40 pound lighter body and mentally ordered his pet to come to his room. He then focused his attention on Connor but only found a blank, resting mind. “He must be sleeping after his fight with Alex”, he said to himself and got up from the bed. He put on his clothes and turned around as the door opened. Anton barged into the room and quizzically stared down at his master. “Are you smaller?”, he asked. “I gave 40 pounds of muscle to Connor to fight Alex”, Tomas replied in a bored tone. “Oh man. Now his bigger than me. Why didn’t you give me those extra muscles? I would have dominated everyone”, Anton said like a toddler being denied a new toy. “SILENCE!”, Tomas bellowed and snapped his fingers. Instantly, Anton’s 580 pound body left the floor and floated in the air. “You’re in no position to question my actions, my pet. You, like everyone else, are at my mercy. I can easily drain your muscles away and cast you in the darkest depths of Hell!”, Tomas said coldly, “Would you like to end like those runts Sean and Keith? Weak, skeleton-like boys without any strength?”. Tomas raised his left hand and lightning shot from his fingertips, hitting the ceiling inches away from Anton’s face. “No. No, I’m sorry”, Anton answered quickly. “I thought so”, Tomas said, “you have a special place in the upcoming ritual, my pet. Since you’re the first beast I’ve created, you’re central in the events at hand. Connor’s only job is to make sure he fulfills his destiny. Now, let’s get to the library and make things ready for the ritual”. Anton crashed down as Tomas ended his spell. He quickly got up and followed his master stepping through the mirror into the library. Aaron had given his keys to Alex and watched as the football player knocked Connor out cold and carried him off to his van. He walked through the now deserted wrestle hall and entered the locker room. He opened his locker but looked up as a big shadow fell over him. Before he could react two strong hands spun him around, grabbed hold of his singlet and lifted him up as his back was slammed against the lockers. Kurt stared the 110 pound lighter wrestler in the eye as he effortlessly held him up. “Where’s Connor,”, he snarled. Aaron squirmed in the bigger man’s grasp, his feet dangling in the air. “Where’s Connor, worm?”, Kurt repeated angrily and smacked the wrestler’s back hard against the metal lockers. “Augh”, Aaron grunted as his back dented the cold metal lockers, “He’s out. Please don’t hurt me”. Kurt groaned in anger; he had looked forward to worshipping Connor’s huge body. His cock hardened at the thought. Might as well have some fun, he thought and dropped the wrestler. “Suck me off”, he said as he ripped off his speedos. Aaron slumped to his knees and stared up at the thickly muscled swimmer looming over him. He knew he was no match for the way bigger athlete and moved in on the hard 8 incher smacking against the steroid bloated eight-pack in front of him. “For every round your cock shall blast, 10 pounds of muscle to me shall be past”, he mumbled softly. These words had just popped up in his mind and it seemed natural to speak them out loud. Kurt looked down and saw the wrestler open his mouth. He rammed his fully engorged 8 incher in it as the other athlete said something. Aaron gagged as the roided up swimmer’s cock invaded his mouth while he spoke the hellish formula. His tongue rubbed along the hard shaft as the last word escaped his mouth. “Yeaughn”, Kurt moaned as his cock exploded the second it made contact with the wrestler’s tongue. He didn’t even have time to blink as the intense pleasure of the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had rolled over his 280 pound body. Aaron eagerly sucked the salty cum away, gulping down every drop of it. Warmth was already spreading through his body and he grabbed hold of the swimmer’s thick quads for support. Kurt closed his eyes and let the feelings overwhelm him completely. His left hand grabbed the back of the wrestler’s head and he began shoving his cock back and forth in the other athlete’s mouth. Aaron answered Kurt’s enthusiasm by sucking his 8 incher even harder. He felt his singlet getting tighter and tighter as his muscles began feeding on the swimmer’s size. His delts bulged with new mass, doubling in size as they swelled outward. He looked at his growing biceps atop his thickening arms that held onto the swimmer’s deflating quads. “Yeaughn”, Kurt moaned once more, in a slightly higher voice. The swimmer was totally lost in pleasure as the wrestler gave him the blowjob of a lifetime. He stopped trusting his hips as his quads burned like they did after a long, hard workout. The mild burning sensation mixed with the electric bliss coursing through his shrinking frame. Aaron’s muscles kept beefing up on his growing frame. He felt his calves swelling with hard meat against his hardening hamstrings. His naturally strong quads thickened and began ripping his singlet. His six-pack bulged outward against the overstretched fabric, making tears appear all over it as they swelled to the size of coke cans. His muscular pecs began protruding more and more from his chest, pushing his hard nipples through the now paper-thin fabric of his singlet. His strong hands found more room on the swimmer’s ever shrinking quads. He intensified his sucking on the now 7 incher in his mouth. Incoherent sounds escaped Kurt’s mouth and drool dripped from his lips as various sensations overwhelmed his mind. Pleasure, exhaustion, the mild burning sensation that spread to more and more of his muscles, a tingle of what felt like weakness; it all mixed together into the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. Aaron gazed up at the swimmer and a faint smile formed on his lips: his once steroid bloated abs now looked like a runner’s 4-pack; the formerly protruding pecs no longer blocked his view of the swimmer’s face and kept receding into his chest; the deflating quads felt like weak sponges in his swelling hands, his long fingers were almost touching around the shrinking legs; the cock in his mouth was now well below 5 inches and kept shriveling down as it released more loads down his hungry throat. A burning sensation spread in Kurt’s balls as they began protesting from being drained so much. It quickly turned into a stabbing pain that overcame the pleasure of his ongoing orgasm. A loud snapping sound made him open his eyes and look down. His mouth fell open in disbelief: it looked like the hulk was sucking him off. Aaron’s swelling muscles had won the fight against the elastic singlet. The straps snapped and shot loose as the rising traps grew higher and higher, the inflating pecs kept pushing the singlet further and further away from the wrestler’s chest, his thickening and widening lats pulled the fabric backward and outward. The shattered remains draped around his still growing frame as sweat made them stick against and highlight his huge muscles. Kurt stared at the bulging and swelling mounds of muscle on the wrestler’s widening back. He looked down and gasped as he realized where the wrestler’s new size came from: his once majestic, 290 pound body was now a mere 160 and shrinking. He pulled his 4.5 incher from the hungry mouth. Or tried to. Aaron felt the now 150 pound swimmer pulling back his cock. He hardened his hold on the other athlete’s legs, his fingers easily touching around the meager sticks and digging into the now soft muscle, and lifted him off the floor. His tongue effortlessly overpowered the still hard 4 incher and milked out some more cum. Kurt squirmed with all the might left in his weakened body but the huge wrestler’s grip held him in place. His shrinking balls protested with hard, painful, burning stabs as they were emptied from their last, watery drops. He gasped as he noticed that the wrestler’s arms were twice the size of his own legs. His vision went dark and he sank away in unconsciousness as his once hulking body settled in at 90 pounds. Aaron felt the swimmer go limp in his grip. He licked the last drip from the now pathetic cock in his mouth and tossed the once intimidating swimmer aside. The limp, frail body flew across the locker room and crashed down against the furthest row of lockers, failing to dent them on impact. The now 7 feet, 380 pound Aaron stood up and grinned as his big paws roamed the hot surface of his newly grown, hard muscles on his chest. He flexed the protruding rack of beef, making it bounce under his right hand. His left paw explored his eight-pack, tracing in and out the deep ridges separating the strong abs. Sean, Keith and Logan were getting ready to pick up Matt at the hospital as Logan’s phone rang. “Hello?”, he said. … “I thought we could pick him up tonight, doctor?” … “Okay. Tell him we’ll come visit him first thing in the morning. Bye.” Sean and Keith looked at the fallen quarterback. “The hospital”, Logan said, “They have to do some more tests to see if Matt has recovered completely. It will take a few more days before he can leave the hospital.” “I suggest we still leave campus tonight”, Sean stated, “Once Mike and Paul are back from the gym we can take our stuff and move into a hotel room. We have to avoid making contact with Tomas or his gang of muscle freaks.” “Let’s start packing our bags then”, Keith replied and began emptying the closet. Sean and Logan followed his example and soon enough they were packed and ready to go. Tomas and Anton stepped through the large mirror and entered the library. Anton always wondered how his master was able to create these passages. “Just a small proof of my ever-increasing powers, my pet”, Tomas replied to the unspoken question. A faint noise made them look at the center of the vast reading room. A huge, muscled creature was awaiting them at what looked like an altar. “Connor”, Anton said eagerly, excited to discover his new massive size and marched toward the muscle beast his master had grown past his own huge dimensions. “Guess again”, the creature said and turned around. “Alex!”, Anton spat out angrily. Anton noticed how his own muscles clearly outsized Alex’ ones and charged at him. Tomas just stared at the scene and saw his pet storming at the other beast before he could react. “What did you do to Connor?”, Anton bellowed deeply, his voice echoing against the high walls of the vast reading room. He jumped up in the air and launched himself at his adversary. “You’re about to find out”, Alex replied coolly. He made a fist, pulled back his monstrous, 55 inch right arm and threw a punch with all his force. Anton saw the big fist coming at him but couldn’t dodge it as he was mere inches away from his opponent. A loud, sickening, cracking sound sounded as Alex concrete-hard fist collided with Anton’s nose. The 580 pound behemoth flew backward and crashed down several feet away, blood flowing from his flattened nose, knocked out cold by his 500 pound enemy. “Put him on the altar!” Alex looked away from his battered opponent and faced Tomas. He nodded, grabbed Anton, threw him onto his beastly left shoulder and carried him over to the altar. He tossed the 580 pound beast with his back onto the stone altar and stepped back, awaiting further instructions. “Chain him!” Alex squatted down and put the heavy, metal chains around Anton’s wrists and ankles, securing the 580 pound beast firmly atop the altar. “Rip off his clothes!” Alex stood up, his massive quads bulging in the process, and effortlessly ripped off Anton’s skintight clothes, exposing his huge frame. He stared in admiration at the hard masses of beef that protruded from Anton’s body and at the cock, 15 inches of soft meat, that lay over his big bull-sized balls atop the altar. “Have you taken care of the football team?” Tomas’ question pulled Alex from his awe and he faced his master. “I’ve drained Logan’s muscles to get huge myself. I’ve trashed the others during practice. Matt’s still in the hospital and Mike and Paul know who’s boss”, he said. “Not good enough”, Tomas reacted, “I have to be sure they won’t interfere with the ritual. You’re the champion from Hell mentioned in the ancient manuscript. You’ve taken down several men despite them out sizing you, even when I had beefed up Connor some more…” “It just felt natural to take him on”, Alex interrupted, “ The instant he entered my room I just felt an urge to prove I could take him. I didn’t…” Tomas shut him up with a sign from his hand. “No need to apologize, champion”, Tomas said, “I hadn’t read the entire manuscript until then. I thought that Anton was the champion of Hell ‘cause he had defeated Sean and Keith. I already had my doubts when he said that Connor had beaten him in arm wrestling. The true champion would never lose a physical challenge, not even something silly as a arm wrestling. When Connor mentioned your name, I dove into your mind and saw the incredible amount of aggressiveness waiting to break free. I discovered you had always bullied other kids despite your puny size. So I decided to give you the body to match that aggressiveness.” “But why did you make Connor grow after our first fight?”, Alex asked, “You knew I was the champ”. “I wanted a final test to be sure”, Tomas replied with a grin, “I knew that if you could take down a 100 pound bigger opponent, no one would be able to stop you. Why did Aaron revealed Connor’s weak spot, you think? Some infernal inspiration I put into his mind at that time. You’ve trashed Connor three times: in the locker room, in the shower zone and finally in the wrestle hall. And now, you’ve knocked out my pet with one blow.” The smug grin on Alex’ face got wider and wider as he listened to Tomas. “Now that I’ve decrypted the manuscript completely, everything has become clear to me”, Tomas continued, “Sean and Keith aren’t necessary for the ritual: Anton has absorbed their muscles. He’s the ultimate sacrifice needed to set things in motion at the stroke of midnight.” “And what about Connor?”, Alex asked. “You may keep him, champ”, Tomas answered, “I’ve seen you put him in Aaron’s van and know what you and Aaron are up to. Soon I’ll command the armies of Hell and hordes of infernal creatures will carry out every order I give. Until then, I have one final assignment for you. Matt is in room 302 of the hospital. Go and do what must be done. Aaron will take care off Mike and Paul. Then you guys may go to the south and live your life. But be aware: there might be a day when I call you, champ, and Aaron back in action. Now go!” Alex nodded and exited the library, heading toward the hospital for his final assignment. Aaron ended his self worship. The same voice that had ordered him to reveal Connor’s weakness to Alex during their fight, now ordered him turn around. Aaron turned his head and noticed the sound of running water. He hadn’t noticed it before, being focused on sucking off Kurt and then worshipping his own, beefed up frame. He swaggered over to the shower zone and the sound of two voices mixed in with that of the running water. He entered the actual shower area and discovered two heavily muscled football players under the showers at the furthest wall. Mike and Paul were enjoying a long, hot shower after their grueling workout. “Man, doesn’t it feel great being back in the gym”, Mike said to his buddy. “Yeah”, Paul replied, “the pump’s incredible after a week off. I’ve never been this hard after training since my first workout in high school. Feels like I could explode right here.” Mike glanced aside and saw his 275 pound teammate’s rock hard, 10 inch cock pointing straight at the tilled wall they were facing as he soaped his pumped muscles. “You horny dog”, he said laughingly and gently stroked his own semi-hard cock as he let the hot water rain down on his 263 pound frame. “Alpha dog, you mean”, Paul answered grinningly, “biggest, strongest, most muscular and horniest man on the team.” His untouched 10 incher throbbed as he spoke. “We’re gonna ace those practice tests”, Mike stated and kept stroking his own, further hardening cock A shadow fell over them. A big, strong hand grabbed onto their round shoulders and span them around. Before they could react, the strong hand pressed against their protruding chests and pushed their backs against the tilled wall. Mike and Paul stared at the massive, black man in front of them: he outsized them by at least 100 pounds of rock hard muscle that had ripped his singlet to pieces. They felt like deer caught in a headlight and didn’t budge. “For every round your cocks shall blast, 10 pounds of muscle shall be past” Paul’s already throbbing 10 incher exploded instantly and blasted load after load of cum onto the wrestler’s abdomen. Mike’s cock followed this lead and jolted to complete hardness in his hand. After Paul’s fourth load, it began shooting his own man juice onto the abs in front of him. “YEAGH!” Aaron boomed in triumph, closed his eyes and tilted back his head. He heard the football player’s cum splatter against his eight-pack and felt the heat spreading through his 7 feet, 380 pound body. Paul’s horned up body kept blasting out cum at an incredible rate: for every load Mike’s 8 incher shot, his 10 incher produced three. He and Mike stared at their cum drenching the hard abs in front of them while orgasm raced through them. Aaron’s eight-pack was completely covered by the massive amount of sticky cum the football players kept pumping out. Not a single drop of it slid down onto the floor, though. The cum quickly absorbed into his frame, spreading into his muscles to feed them. The warmth throughout his 380 pound body kept increasing, announcing an even more impressive growth than in the locker room. “Augh”, Aaron grunted as his body began its growth into pure godhood. Mike and Paul gaped at the lengthening wrestler in front of them. Their eyes widened as they felt their bodies being stretched upward: the wrestler’s hands pushed them against the wall and slowly travelled upward, pulling both their 263 and 275 pound bodies along on his way toward the ceiling. The football player’s calves flexed into hard, diamond-shaped mounds as they were forced to stand on their toes to accord to the wrestler’s rising. The whole time their still stubbornly hard cocks kept splattering cum against the abdomen wrapped in ripped remains of the singlet. Aaron felt his lengthening slowing down: his body stopped going upward as it reached 9 feet. The warmth shifted from his bones and made its way into the wrestler’s still unchanged, yet already huge muscles. Pleasure wrote itself all across Aaron’s handsome, square and masculinity-screaming face. “Muugh. Yeah!”, he grunted between his clenched teeth as the next phase of his growth began. Paul and Mike noticed and recognized the look of pure ecstasy on the wrestler’s face. They gulped, their tongues scraping in their dry mouths, as they saw the huge muscles on the towering frame in front of them bulging with new mass. By now their balls were completely dry and the infernal spell was transforming their hard earned muscles into cum that escaped their diminishing frames through their blasting cocks. Paul’s 10 incher maintained its higher frequency but since his balls were way bigger than Mike’s, his muscles began shrinking at about the same time as Mike’s. The football players didn’t notice their own decrease as they were still overcome by the feeling of orgasm coursing through them and the impressive sight before them. “YEAGH!” Aaron’s huge muscles soaked up the warmth like sponges. His calves exploded from the back of his long legs as the diamond-shaped muscle doubled in size; his nicely round ass ballooned outward as his hamstrings swelled with rock-hard mass; his kneecaps looked ridiculously tiny and were totally obscured by the prominent and large teardrop-shape that bulged at the edges of his quads; cuts, striations and veins pushed against the paper-thin skin as the cords of muscle in his quads inflated outwards, thickening his long legs beyond the size of a normal tree. Mike and Paul couldn’t believe what they were seeing. A mixture of weakness and fatigue began dominating the orgasm exploding through them. An increasing burn spread painfully in their flexed calves. Mike broke his gaze from the broadening beast and looked down. He inhaled sharply as he discovered his own diminishing frame: his once huge, 263 pound body was now well beyond 200 pounds and going down even further. The wrestler’s big paw now covered his chest almost completely and he could feel the increasing strength as it pushed him harder and harder against the tilled wall. He looked aside and saw that Paul was undergoing the same changes and looked already smaller than him. “Paul! Paul!”, he said to his buddy. Paul didn’t react. His big balls and naturally through-the-roof level of testosterone combined with the insane pump and horned-up state from his workout intensified his trance. He’d been on the verge of orgasm under the shower before Aaron appeared and that had made him very susceptible to the infernal spell. The muscles on his once 275, now 175 pound body were pulled into his balls, transformed into cum and blasted out at high speed as the orgasm of a lifetime overwhelmed him completely. Mike saw the pleasure-filled expression on his buddy’s face and knew he was totally off. He tried punching Paul with his left arm but couldn’t reach him: the wrestler holding them was broadening and pulled them further apart. “MORE” Aaron groaned in pleasure, tilting back his head further and keeping his eyes closed as he savored in the pleasure and warmth of the growth. This felt so much better than his first growth in the locker room. His huge torso followed the example of his legs and grew to godlike dimensions. His cum-drenched abdomen swelled harder and bigger, turning from eight-pack into a 12-pack; the canyons separating the large, cobblestone-sized muscles were at least an inch deep; all the while, they kept absorbing the cum and turning it into fuel for his growth; his half-watermelon-sized pecs, inflated with more rock-hard mass as they turned into and then surpassed the size of whole watermelons; the thick, striated, vein-infested slabs of beef protruded from his chest, looking like two broad pillows shoved underneath the paper-thin, black skin; his round, broad delts pumped up with meat like two balloons being inflated; they swelled larger than cannonballs, the separations between the individual heads of the muscles clearly visible, capping his broader-than-two-wide-doors shoulders with perfectly round, globes of beef. Mike felt his body go weaker and weaker as more of his muscles escaped him through his cock. He knew there was no way he could reach his buddy anymore. He would have to break free from the giant’s hold as soon as possible if he wanted to maintain some of his muscles. The fear of being drained down completely fought with the pleasure in his mind and he felt the cursed orgasm beginning to cool down. The loads of cum blasted less frequently from his cock. He bit on his tongue hard and the pain overpowered the lessened orgasm. His cock began deflating instantly and an agonizing pain stabbed in his drained balls. The second his cock stopped blasting out cum, the hand on his chest released its grip and he slumped down on the tilled floor. Mike summoned every ounce of strength left in his fatigued, 140 pound body and slowly crept toward the exit. Before leaving the shower zone, he looked back and saw Paul’s feet leaving the floor as he shriveled down further in the growing giant’s grip. Aaron had sensed Mike’s spent orgasm and had released him instantly: he didn’t want to lose any time on a dried source. He focused his entire attention on the other football player and kept his eyes shut as he concentrated on the pleasure of his growth. Atop his now beastly shoulders, his traps swelled into pillars of meat that doubled his strong neck in size; the thick vein travelling from the top of his pillow-sized chest over his larger-than-cannonballs-sized delts aside his biceps, began pumping warmth and energy into his arms; his thick, low-hanging triceps jolted lower at the back of his arms, doubling them in size as the horseshoe-sized muscles beefed up with steely hard mass; his biceps simply shot upward, swelling into vein-covered bowling balls of raw power; it seemed like someone was pouring hard concrete into them as they turned into 60 inch orbs of ripped meat; his forearms, now effortlessly holding onto the pathetic football player, tripled in size as the cable-like cords of muscles wove themselves thicker and broader along his long forearms; his paws grew accordingly and half of his right hand now covered Paul’s chest completely. Paul’s incredible orgasm wore down and he opened his eyes. He felt totally disorientated and weak. He could feel his feet dangling in the air and something was pressing hard into his chest and shoving him against the tilled wall. He gasped loudly, a high pitch escaping his mouth, as he saw the huge paw that looked as large as his now pathetic torso. His gaze followed the impossibly wide forearm, marveling at the thick veins feeding the cords of muscle, travelled upward to the mountain-like, yet relaxed bicep, licking his lips in awe, and finally looked up into the face of the god that held him. When the final tingle of growth subsided in his now 9 feet, 700 pound godlike body, Aaron opened his eyes and stared straight into the diminished football player’s eyes. He pulled him closer to his body, his massive 60 inch arm not even bulging: the 75 pound fallen jock felt like a feather in his grasp. Paul shivered in the god’s paw: never before had he felt this weak. Fear filled his mind as he realized that he was completely in the grasp of the muscle god; the man could break him by simply clenching his fist. Fear mixed with lust as his eyes roamed the bulging mounds of hard, striated beef that fought for room on the wrestler’s incredible physique. The god’s deep dark, paper-thin skin highlighted the huge muscles beyond anything he’d ever seen. His now feeble 2 inch cock hardened at the sight. “So, you called yourself an alpha dog”, Aaron boomed. The rich, deeper-than-a-subwoofer baritone echoed across the shower zone, engulfed Paul and vibrated deeply in his body. “Ughn”, he peeped in his now high-pitched, girly voice as his 2 incher pumped a final load from his pee-sized balls and shot it from his shaft. Aaron saw the smaller-than-a-water-drop load coming and caught it on his tongue. “Ah, a final coat”, he said as he felt the effect instantly on his body. “So, mister alpha dog”, he said as he turned his attention back to Paul, “you look more like a weak kitten to me. A bug in my grasp, ready to be crushed.” “No, please”, Paul peeped, “I’ll do anything you say”. Aaron didn’t listen. He simply clenched his fist, breaking every bone in Paul’s pathetic body and tossed the lifeless football player in the furthest corner of the shower zone. He swaggered over into the locker room and marveled as he pulled on his former clothes and they magically adjusted to his new frame. In the library Tomas had everything ready for the upcoming ritual. He had followed the action in the shower zone through the mirror and was very pleased: soon all of his threats would have been dealt with and nothing would stop him from ruling the earth. He looked aside as he heard the sound of rattling chains. Anton regained consciousness after the hard blow to his face. A severe pain pounded in his nose on the rhythm of his heartbeat. He tried touching his battered nose but heavy chains held his arms in place. “Shit, Alex has tied me down”, he thought as he saw Tomas appear next to him. “Ah, you’re awake, my pet”, Tomas said to Anton, “just in time for the ritual”. “Let me go, Tomas”, Aton pleaded, “Alex could be back any minute”. “Alex won’t be back”, Tomas replied, “he’s carrying out his assignment as we speak. He secured you like I ordered him to do.” “What? You ordered him? Why?”, Anton yelled in disbelief and rattled his chains more violently. “You have a special place in the upcoming ritual, my pet”, Tomas answered, “Since you’ve absorbed muscles from both Keith and Sean, you can easily take their place.” “Take their place? How?”, Anton asked while trying to get free, flexing his huge muscles in the process. “Don’t you get it? You’re the sacrifice that will initiate the ritual! Image the supreme honor you have!”, Tomas replied. “Sacrifice?...”, Anton yelled but froze mid-phrase as Tomas rammed his cock into his ass. “Yes, my pet”, Tomas grunted in between violent trusts, “you’re the counterweight that’ll let me open the gates of Hell!”. He shoved his engorged 15 incher back and forth in his pet’s tight ass and groped his thick, bulging rack of pecs. “But… I’ve protected you from that priest. Helped you take down Sean and Keith.”, Anton pleaded, pulling at the chains with all his might. “Yeah, flex those muscles”, Tomas grunted, his 15 incher exploded in his pet’s ass as he felt the incredibly dense pecs harden into concrete-like slabs of beef under his touch. “You’ve served me very well and you know… I’m gonna miss the feeling of my cock jammed up your tight, muscular ass. But your time has come to fulfill your destiny: sink into the darkest depths of Hell to open its gates for my armies of evil!”, Tomas said and pulled his cock from his pet’s ass and went over to the corner of the reading room to get some rest before the ritual, leaving Anton fighting against the chains in vain. “Please, let me go. I’ll do anything you say”, Anton begged in vain. At the hospital, Alex had effortlessly discovered the fire exit like Tomas had explained. He quickly mounted the iron stairs to the third floor and moved to the second window on his left. He glanced through it and smiled as he saw Matt lying on his bed. He silently opened the window and stepped into the room. Matt was actually enjoying his stay in the hospital. He was safe here and the nurses were very kind, especially that 20-something blonde that had helped him this morning. It had begun with her gently washing his battered torso, groping his muscular chest with her frail hands and him flexing them under her touch. By the time she had reached his abs, both of them had been breathing fast and he’d seen the lust in her eyes. He’d gotten up, locked the door and positioned her against the wall and fucked her right there. The light touch of her delicate hands and the excited noises she’d whispered in his ear, he’d sent him over the edge in record time. She’d even came back in the afternoon to ‘check on his condition’. The thought of her made his cock harden, making a tent under the sheets. Suddenly, the sheets were pulled violently away. “Excited to see me?” Matt recognized the deep voice and shivers of fear crossed his 255 pound body. He reached up to grab the alarm but a large paw pressed down hard on his chest. Pain exploded through him as his broken ribs protested against the harsh treatment. Alex grabbed the alarm above Matt’s head and simply yanked it from the wall before tossing it across the room. “HELP! HELP!”, Matt yelled in panic, struggling against his tormentor. Alex grabbed a sheet and shoved it into Matt’s open mouth, silencing his screams. “For every round you’re cock shall blast, 10 pounds of muscle shall be past!” Before Matt could react, his rigid cock jolted to full hardness and throbbed in the air. He tried holding back his orgasm, but as his rock-hard 8 incher was engulfed by the wet hotness of Alex’ mouth, he lost it. His balls churned and began pumping away his mass into the already massive beast looming over him. Alex smiled as he swallowed load after load of cum, his own cock rock-hard in his pants from excitement. He sucked with all his force, teasing and overpowering the shaft with his tongue to force out as much as possible. His growth began instantly. His body sprang upward until it settled in at just over 9 feet. His legs exploded with mass: his diamond shaped calves simply doubled in size, his hamstrings amassing more hard mass below his juicy, rock-hard ass that ballooned into two perfectly round bowling balls of beef, his already tree-sized quads bulged menacingly as the thick cords of muscle forming them, jolted outward with more mass; his tight pants stretched and stretched and adapted to his new size as Tomas had promised. He could see the titanic mass of hard, striated, vein-infested meat through his pants; he flexed his quads, making the outlines and cuts of the hard muscles dance underneath the skintight fabric. Matt tried fighting against the growing beast that was sucking him dry. He felt more and more muscle disappear from his well-trained physique and a great weakness spreading through his body. He squirmed and budged, ignoring the sharp pain from his protesting ribs. Alex did no longer notice the weakening attempts to break free in his own empowering grip. He focused on the pleasure of his growth and let his muscles swell him straight into godhood. His strong 12-pack stretched and beefed up as the cobblestone-sized muscles hardened, deepening the canyons between them even more; his huge pecs pumped up with mass, making his nipples point straight down to the ground and protruding threateningly from his chest, casting shadows over the top half of his armor-like abs; striations, outlined against his protesting yet adapting, skintight shirt, rippled across the wide surface as he breathed in and out. Energy left Matt’s body as it sank below 150 pounds. His struggle in Alex’ grip didn’t even budge the beast’s fingers anymore and the swelling hand atop his battered torso felt heavier and heavier with every passing second and now covered his flattening chest completely and even part of his vanishing abs. Meanwhile, Alex’ inflating monster dick had freed itself from his skintight jeans. It escaped from its fabric prison, pulsing with power as it pointed straight forward along the bottom of the hospital bed. The lengthening and thickening shaft grew past its impressive 20 inches as fat veins pumped more mass into it. It strengthened further with every inch it grew and began pushing against the bottom of the bed, lifting it slowly as the throbbing shaft amassed even more length and girth. Matt tried kicking the giant in the ribs, but his weak kicks bounced off the growing god’s muscular flanks. He gave up the fight and let tears roll over his cheeks as he watched his own body shrivel down to skeleton-like skinniness and felt his bed undulating on the rhythm of the beast’s inflating monster cock. The weak kicks felt like a tingle against his strong obliques and Alex simply intensified his sucking on the shrinking dick in his mouth. His boulder-like shoulders widened further as his hard delts swelled with mass; their perfect roundness dwarfed cannonballs, passed into and just beyond the size of large bowling balls and accentuated his already incredible v-taper further. His body knew his love for his oversized biceps and the epitome of Alex’ growth concentrated on his majestic arms. They had been swelling steadily alongside the instant growth of his other muscles, but now that those had reached their new dimensions, their growth kicked into overdrive. Matt sank away deeper and deeper as his vital energy kept being drained away. He was now well below 80 pounds and every visible muscle had already evaporated from his body. It even took a great effort to keep his eyes open. Black dots danced at the edges of his field of vision as he stared at the swelling god sucking on his now nearly disappeared cock. Alex felt the intense growth of his arms and upped his sucking on the tiny dick; the head of the pencil-thin cock barely made it past his own lips anymore. His triceps beefed up at the back of his arms; low hanging cords of beef that easily withstood the pull of gravity, that screamed power by the cuts and veins decorating them, the size of 10 horseshoes forged together; his biceps mounded upward as rock-hard meat found its way into the orbs, turning them into hideously large, beach ball-sized mountains crisscrossed with river-like veins that outsized Alex’ head as he flexed his left arm to check his canons. He relaxed his arm, grabbed Matt’s puny balls and clenched them hard. A faint grunt, no louder than the sound of a fly, escaped between Matt’s frail lips. The last energy was forced from his body as the god’s paw crushed his balls. Matt passed out, nothing more than a dry mummy, at the same time the god’s 30 inch, monster cock throbbed violently and tipped over his bed as it exploded violently, coating the room with his superior cum. Alex got up breathing hard, put his slowly deflating cock in his skintight pants and headed for the window. Realizing he would no longer fit through it, he hit the wall with his right shoulder, busting right through it and disappeared into the night. Back at Orchid university, Tomas began his incantations at the altar in the library. “Penates meorum, spirites infernae, audite precationam meam! Accipite hanc victima! Da mei imperium exerciti infernae!” Anton put every ounce of strength he could summon of his huge muscles into his struggle against the rusty chains. He wiggled and tore, striations and veins exploding over his immense body in the process, but the hellish irons easily held his 580 pounds in place. He pleaded in panic but his master didn’t listen. Tears began flowing over his cheeks as he felt the altar begin to shudder. “Bestia mea victima est! Fortia per potentia! Aperte portas infernae!” Howling, hideous bats suddenly appeared and circled above the sacrifice on the altar. Anton shivered in fear as the beasts dove to him, evading his majestic body by altering their flight at the very last moment. He screamed in horror as the black bats crapped all over his torso: the stinking fluid burned into him and seemed to pull him into the stone altar. The last thing he saw was his master looking down on him and then the altar gave away and he felt his 580 pounds of muscle plummet into the unfathomable depths of Hell. A deafening thunder rolled over Orchid university, shaking the majestic buildings violently as Anton disappeared into Hell. A shinning, red vortex emerged were the altar had been and hordes of dark, hideously deformed, soldier like creatures jumped from it. They kneeled in front of Tomas, awaiting his orders. “Bring me world domination”, Tomas bellowed loudly. The creatures jumped up and scattered off to all directions; new soldiers jumping from the vortex as the others left the library. Sean, Keith and Logan wondered what took Mike and Paul and headed to the gym to find their buddies. The loud thunder made them jump up and look at each other. “Tomas must have began the ritual”, Keith said, “Let’s hurry and find Mike and Paul and disappear from campus!”. The three fallen athletes rushed over to the gym. They looked around the deserted room and barged into the locker room. The deflated, now 120 pound Mike looked up as he heard the door from the gym open. He weakly extended his skinny arm in the direction of his friends. Sean, Keith and Logan recognized their formerly very well muscled buddy and fear filled them. “What happened and where’s Paul?”, Logan asked as he kneeled down by his teammate. “Aaron stole our size under the shower. He killed Paul. Crushed him in his grip”, Mike muttered weakly, tears flowing from his eyes. Before Sean, Keith or Logan could react, the door of the locker room flew open and several howling creatures threw themselves on them. The weak boys were no match for the hellish legions in Tomas’ command: unhesitatingly the hideous soldiers slaughtered the four buddies and continued their invasion of the university. Alex and Aaron hadn’t lost a single second: once Aaron had drained Mike and Paul, he’d returned to his van, had knocked out the slowly awaking Connor and had driven off. He’d picked up the now humongous Alex at the back of the hospital and they had left town at full speed. A few hours later, they had reached a luxurious villa hidden in the mountains of northern Mexico. “Tomas has rewarded us well”, Aaron said appreciatively as he scanned the outside of the immense villa. “Ah, you have arrived!” Aaron and Alex turned to the car and saw Tomas’ face in one of the windows. “I’ve arranged everything, my champs”, Tomas said, “There are two blind servants awaiting you inside.” “Why blind ones?”, Aaron asked. “They will keep contact with the outside world when they go shopping. They will be unable to reveal your incredible size since they cannot see you. Enjoy your reward but remember that I can call you guys in action any minute. Don’t keep me waiting then or you’ll suffer the fate of my enemies!” Alex and Aaron stared at their own reflections in the car window as Tomas’ face disappeared from it. The two muscle gods entered their new home and grinned as they scanned the room. Alex ordered their two servants to go shopping for huge quantities of food and sent them off. “I’m gonna take a dive in the pool. You take care off Connor”, Alex said and swaggered outside toward the pool. Aaron looked at his fellow muscle god, seeing him strip and dive into the pool. He returned to the van, pulled out the still knocked out Connor, threw the 600 pound wrestler on his beastly, perfectly round, bowling ball-sized shoulder and walked back into the villa. A sudden illumination hit his mind and Aaron strutted toward the basement. As he left the stairs behind, he walked through a large wrestle room, the walls entirely covered with mirrors from floor the ceiling. He lowered Connor from his shoulder and tossed him down on the mats in the center of the room. He continued walking and smiled broadly as he opened the door at the back of the wrestle room: a fully equipped gym with impossible amounts of weights. He left the door open, ripped off his shirt, loaded the bar above one of the benches and began bench pressing 500 pounds, blood pumping into his massive pecs as he blasted out rep after rep. He racked the bar as he heard a faint sound and got up from the bench. Connor regained consciousness and looked around. Disorientation and a slight headache filled his mind as he scanned the room. He got up slowly, realizing he was in a wrestle room but didn’t know where he was. “Good! You’re awake.” The deep, rich, thunder-like baritone that filled the room and rattled the mirrors made him turn around. Connor looked up in awe and surprise at the titanic, shirtless beast entering the room and coming toward him. His eyes roamed the humongous, ripped muscles highlighted by the giant’s paper-thin, black skin. His mouth fell open in disbelief as he gazed up at the strong and squared jaw line, covered by a stubbly beard on the masculinity oozing face. “God”, he muttered as his brain recognized the black teammate he’d tossed around the wrestle hall back at university earlier that day. “That’s the right way to address me: GOD!,” Aaron boomed as he stopped in front of Connor. He grinned as he saw the wrestler scanning the huge mounds of muscle on his godlike frame. “Funny how quickly things can change”, Aaron said, “this morning you’ve ridiculed me in the gym in front of the entire wrestle team…” “I’m sorry”, Connor said in his deep voice, realizing how high-pitched it sounded next to Aaron’s baritone rumble, “I didn’t…” “Then you’ve trashed me in the wrestle hall”, Aaron continued, drowning Connor’s voice in his thunder-like baritone, “I want a rematch”. Connor gulped at these words. He looked up at the one foot taller muscle god’s face. Aaron saw the look of fear in the wrestler’s eyes and smirked. “You were more than twice my weight this morning. I only outweigh ya by a 100 pounds. And you’re already dressed for it. Let’s do this!”, he said coolly. Connor looked down and discovered he was still wearing his ripped singlet. He realized there was no escaping this fight, inhaled deeply and took his starting position in front of the muscle god, trying to ignore how the god’s impossibly wide shoulders eclipsed his own insanely broad ones. “Ready when you are, boy”, Aaron said. Connor’s wrestle instincts knew he had to take this beast by surprise and he jolted into action. He shot forward and grabbed hold of his opponent’s thick, muscular neck with his left hand while his right hand shot upward. Aaron anticipated this move and copied it: the instant Connor’s hand positioned itself atop his neck, his own left paw grabbed the wrestler’s neck, covering it easily; his right paw interlocked with the wrestler’s big, right hand, engulfing it completely. Connor tried to ignore how the muscle god dwarfed him and focused back on the match. He knew his surprise attack had failed and tapped onto his own devastating strength. He pulled with all his might on his opponent’s thickly muscled neck, his 50 inch bicep bulging with power and the cords of muscles on his broad forearms swelling from the effort. Aaron smiled as he saw the 600 pound wrestler’s face turn red from the immense effort. He slightly flexed his legs, making his monster quads harden a bit but easily withstood the superhuman force. Connor grunted from the effort, feeling the warmth spreading through his reddening face. The large paw on his neck forced him to look down as it began overpowering his strong traps and he gasped as he noticed the slowly flexing quads of the god in front of him. He pulled even harder on his opponent’s neck, his 50 inch arm shaking from the effort, but the muscle god didn’t budge. “Oh! You’ve already begun”, Aaron said mockingly and put some tension on his own 60 inch arm, making his paw sink into the flexed traps atop the wrestler’s neck. Connor responded to the attack by fully flexing his titanic quads. The huge muscle bulged outward as the thick cords of rock hard beef swelled into incredible hardness. Panic flickered through his mind as his huge, 600 pound body was slowly dragged toward the muscle god despite his efforts. Aaron grinned as he saw the struggle and efforts turning the wrestler’s face into a beat red, mask of pain. He tapped onto the full force of his 60 inch arm and pulled the giant in his grasp swiftly toward him. Connor didn’t know what happened: one moment he was struggling with all his might to maintain his ground, the next his face slammed into the protruding slabs of concrete-hard, hot meat that protruded from the god’s chest. The huge paw engulfing his own right hand released its hold and instantly a forearm, thicker than a young tree, wrapped itself around his broad lower back like a huge snake across a prey; a hard, cannonball-sized bicep dug into his strong obliques. The paw digging into his neck, slid upward, grabbed the back of his head and pushed him into the deep canyon separating the protruding pecs. Aaron enjoyed overpowering the giant that had played with him a few hours earlier. “Coach was always yakking about technique, but nothings beats the feeling of simply dominating an opponent with raw strength”, Aaron said into Connor’s ear and hardened his hold. Connor tried resisting the muscle god, but his strength could not be denied. He was smacked even harder against the hot masses of hard meat covering the 9 feet frame. His nose was filled with the masculine scent of sweat and musk deep inside the canyon between the muscle god’s pecs. His tongue traced the contours of the striated, pillow-sized muscles, filling his mouth with the salty taste of male sweat as it found the bottom of the deep canyon. Aaron felt the tickly sensation of the slick tongue between his pecs and pulled the 600 pound wrestler harder into his own humongous frame as he flexed his chest. Connor felt the protruding slabs of meat harden, nearly braking his nose by the sheer force they produced. The tip of his tongue disappeared into the deepened striations it snaked along. His hands roamed the impossibly wide back, discovering hard, prominent mounds of beef that bulged from the effort and fought for space on the broad surface. His long cock hardened against the hard mass of the muscle god’s left quad. Aaron felt the hardening snake of meat swelling against his beastly quad. He flexed his leg, overpowering and trapping the inflating cock between his own quad and the wrestler’s one. He felt his own majestic, monster cock going plump. He released his hold and pushed the wrestler down. “Suck off your god, boy”, he said as he ripped off his own pants to free his growing monster. Connor sank to his knees as the muscle god pushed him down. He marveled at the lengthy, black snake hardening quickly between the bigger-than-a-tree-sized quads. His own 20 incher was rock-hard as his hand made contact with the god’s cock. He couldn’t close his big hand around the growing cock’s girth. He tried denting it by clenching his strong fist, but the swelling snake resisted and even pried open his grip as it kept inflating. Aaron shivered as he felt the steely grip clenching around his hardening dick, his divine muscles flexing slightly in the process. “Too weak, boy”, he said as his cock overpowered the strong grip. Connor released the thick cock and it smacked him hard in the face as it jolted upward to stick out straight from the muscle god’s body. He gasped as he stared directly at the 35 inch, thick, black snake crisscrossed with veins. He opened his mouth as widely as possible and took in the cone apple-sized head. Aaron grunted in pleasure as the hot slickness of the giant’s mouth engulfed the head of his monster cock. He grabbed the back of the wrestler’s head and pushed his cock deeper into his mouth. Connor’s strong jaws protested painfully as his mouth was forced wide open to adjust to the thick snake invading it. He gagged as the thick head hit the back of his throat. Less than half of the muscle god’s cock was inside his mouth. He couldn’t even suck the thick, black snake as it completely filled his mouth and pried open his jaws. His legs were suddenly lifted up as two strong paws grabbed onto his quads. He grunted in pain as a hot, broad rod invaded his ass. “Not letting you have all the fun”, Alex said to Aaron as he pushed his 30 incher into Connor’s muscular ass. Aaron felt Connor grunt against his monster cock and shoved it in even deeper; now that Connor was held upright by Alex he could push his dick through his throat and into his esophagus. Connor grabbed hold of the muscle god’s juicy ass for support, his own 20 incher throbbing wildly in the air as his nose was shoved against the black man’s pubes and he felt Alex pubes rubbing against his own ass, impaling him on their monster cocks. Alex and Aaron stared at each other, lusting over and admiring the incredible size they had grown into. They felt pleasure flood their bodies and began fucking the 600 pound muscle beast with full force. Pain mixed with pleasure as the two gods ravaged his body. Connor’s 20 incher exploded onto the wrestle mats as orgasm rolled over him like a tsunami of electrical jolts shooting through his body. His huge muscles contracted and he would have bucked violently but Aaron’s firm body and Alex’ steely grip easily held him in place. The muscle beast’s orgasm sent the two muscle gods over the edge. Alex’ balls contracted and his 30 incher shot load after load of superior cum up the muscular ass it was devastating and right into the wrestler’s intestines. Aaron’s thick 35 inch snake spew its salty load past the muscle beast’s throat, injecting it straight into his stomach. Connor’s own orgasm cooled down after a few minutes but the gods kept filling him with their juices. His strong 12-pack began bloating and his stomach protested as the massive amount of cum inflated it further and further. Cum poured from his ass alongside Alex’ 30 incher as it was shoved in and out; cum flowed from the corners of his mouth dripping against the thick, black snake Aaron was pounding his mouth with. As he felt like he was going to explode, the gods withdrew from his ass and mouth and let him fall down onto the mats covered in his own cum. Connor stared up at the muscle gods towering over him, realizing he had been reduced to their 600 pound boy toy… Meanwhile, the hideous creatures of Tomas’ infernal army were flooding the town were Orchid university was located. Police officers tried in vain to resist the hordes of undead soldiers but were overrun by the continuous stream of hellish legions. Within three hours, Tomas was in full command of the city and sent his armies swarming out all over the state, slaying any resistance they met.

Hi everyone! When the original site closed, I thought I lost the Juggernaut series...thank goodness for Google! All of the Juggernaut series is now posted here, and I'm currently working on continuing the series with two new chapters by April. Hope you enjoy! Juggernaut pt.1 Atlanta University. That is where Jamal wanted to go. He had been a fan of Atlanta’s football and now to be a student at the school was a dream come true. Jamal just graduated from high school. He had not been you typical valedictorian either. He played football, not starting, but he was still a jock. However, he maintained a perfect 4.0 GPA and had most of the top colleges giving him scholarships left and right. He had decided that he was going to major in Geological studies at Atlanta University. They had a good program and there was a chance he could study abroad in the spring if his grades were good after fall semester. The day finally came when he stepped foot on campus. Throughout the semester, Jamal studied and studied and applied himself to his studies. Even though he was about 6 feet and 265 pounds, he was still smart and athletic. He took a basic weight training course to stay big and in shape. As much as the weight training instructor begged, Jamal would not try out for any sports. He wanted to stick to his studies. Coming from a low budget home, he had never traveled outside of the state, unless it was for a football game. He now had a chance to travel outside of the country and he was not letting a pigskin get in his way. The fall semester went by very fast and Jamal finished out with a 3.7 GPA for the semester. Turns out the weight training instructor gave Jamal a B average for refusing to join the team. Jamal was selected to go to India for the geological studying abroad program. He was elated. While he was at Atlanta University he had been approached by a lot of girls and even had a few one night stands. They thought he was a jock as big as he was. Jamal was not a fat person, but could bench 300 easily and squat 850. He was, however, a gentle giant who, when not studying could be seen playing football with his dorm buddies. Now he was in for the chance of his life. Christmas holidays came and went and Jamal was soon boarding the plane to India. Him and 3 other students were chosen to go. Jamal was thinking of things he could do while in India other than study rocks. However, soon the plane was in India and through all the plane food and naps Jamal had arrived. The village they worked in was not as he had pictured. This village had commerce and a very nice hotel that they stayed in during the time. Their first assignment was at 5 PM and that gave Jamal 2 hours to get his gear and be at the site. At 5, they began excavation. Jamal and the others were looking for fossils from the prehistoric ages to send back to the school’s museum. While digging and scrapping Jamal found a hardened rock. It was extremely heavy so he decided to chisel it in half. The rock split after a hard hit and revealed a red crystal like rock. Apparently, magma had covered the crystal and hardened around it, preserving it for years and years. The crystal glowed a deep crimson when Jamal held it. Jamal then found an encryption on the crystal and began to read it aloud to himself. It said, “Whosoever finds this crystal of Cytorrak and recites this encantation aloud will become an unstoppable juggernaut.” The crystal began to burn Jamal’s skin. His bulging veins glowed a deep crimson in his arms and he blacked out. Jamal found himself back at the hotel awake and nothing had changed. He attributed the blacking out his body getting used to India’s climate. Apparently, that had been good enough for everyone else. Jamal continued his study abroad until he came home in April. His friends helped him move back in the dorm and wanted to play some football outside the dorm. Jamal never forgot the crystal, but felt much better so he went ahead. He got in his usual position of All-Time quarterback and was snapped the ball. His defense was weak, so he tucked the ball and began to run. As he ran, he felt different. His body became hot and felt heavy. He was only wearing a black tank top and some gray sweatpants. He was running when the school linebacker stepped in front of him. He wanted to stop because the linebacker was 315 pounds of solid beefy muscle. However, his legs would not let him stop. He braced for the hit but was able to easily push the linebacker out of the way and keep going. He made it to the touchdown line easily and spike the ball in victory. He was stopped because the linebacker he moved out of the way was 15 feet away from where he was hit lying prone and holding his chest. The group was gathered around the heavy guy and helped him sit up. “Damn J,” “you knocked the hell outta me.” The linebacker said. You been takin steroids in India or some shit?” Jamal shook his head but at that moment he saw why he said what he said. Jamal’s body fat had dropped drastically and muscle had replaced it. So much in fact that his sweats were skin tight and his tank was barely able to hang on. Jamal ran to the gym and stepped on the scale. He stopped at 520 pounds. He looked at himself in the mirror. His biceps bulged through the tank top. He took a hand and ripped what was left of his tank top away to reveal a massive set of pecs and a rounded stomach full of abs. He looked like he had a gut but it was all abs. His shoulders touched his ears and his back was extremely thick and wide. He ripped away his sweat pants and revealed a set of tree trunk legs and thick calves. His butt was firm and round. His dick was about 14 inches long with nuts the size of large eggs to match. He was a massive mountain. Then he thought. He had just moved a 315 pound linebacker out of his way without a strain. He then looked at all the equipment in the gym and started racking the bench press with lots of 45’s. He put 6 on each side and layed beneath the bar. Once again, his veins glowed a deep crimson and his body felt the same intensity it had felt earler. He picked up the bar and lowered it to his chest at first it was difficult, then he pumped out rep after rep. 100 reps later in increased the weight with every 45 in the gym. He beched it 50 times with ease but now noticed he was bigger. Every muscle increased in size. He went outside in his boxers saw a delivery truck for the school. He grabbed truck by the front end and felt the power surge in his body again. The truck began to rise after a while was soon over the head of Jamal. Jamal’s body had grown to accomadate the size of his muscles. He was about 9 feet tall and weighed close to 950 pounds. He was lovin the size and would test it out tomorrow. He was a juggernaut. Juggernaut pt.2 Jamal easily let the truck back down and flexed his bulging muscles. 900 pounds of muscle felt like a feather to him. His brown skin tight muscles contracted and flexed. His naked massive body in the tone of dusk. His love trail ran down to his massive cock decorated with curly black hair. Any girl would have fucked him. This was way too much power for him. Why did he have to read that incantation aloud? Why did he have to inherit this strength? He had to get some shelter and get away from public view. His first instinct was to run. So he ran, the earth trembling beneath him as he made track marks in the hard concrete. He was on the move and the veins were glowing that crimson red color again. He was unstoppable. The only way to get off campus was through the faculty parking lot. It wasn’t that full but the tennis team had a tournament and the charter buses were lined up in front of the gate. He wasn’t stopping heading dead for the buses. Jamal braced his shoulder for the impact and busted through the bus. First a body size hole through the first two. Then he began to have a feeling of power. He wanted to show his strength. He was in control. The last bus, he grabbed from underneath and began to military press it with ease. He was an unstoppable juggernaut and at that time he didn’t care. He then tossed the bus on top of the others making a double stack like those in England. He continued through the gate unchallenged. He made his way to a back alley and began picking up dumpsters and tossing them up and down like a ball of trash. Yet, his muscles still had that crimson glow. He was juggernaut. He was Cytorrak. . .NO! He was Jamal. He was still Jamal and he said to himself that Jamal was in charge and not this Cytorrak. The crimson glow subsided and his chest heaved up and down. His muscles relaxed and flexed with just a small breath. Then Jamal made a realization. He hadn’t eaten since the day he touched the crystal. For that matter, he hadn’t drank anything either. Not even so much as a sip of water or a crumb of bread had touched his lips. His human mind screamed hunger, but his body was surviving without food or water. He was self-sufficient. Still, food was food. He was still experimenting with his power. He had to test his limits. Apparently he was unstoppable once he started moving. That much was clear. He also possessed the strength to move mountains and if he couldn’t at that point, the crystals crimson glow would enlarge him so that he could accomplish the feat shortly. He also was self-aware. He knew exactly how much he weighed and his height. He was a force to be reckoned with. At that time though, Jamal wanted nothing more than to be human, and being human required him to eat. Just then a door in the alley opened. A man walked out. He was about 6’5” and close to 350 pounds. However, he was thickly built like a bear. He had two garbage bags in one hand and a garbage can in the other. He emptied them in the dumpster and turned around to see Jamal. Jamal could see the fear in his eyes. The large man, instead of running, came closer and saw the naked mountain of black power standing in front of him. Jamal apologized for disturbing him and asked for some food. Then his veins glowed. Jamal suddenly had the bearish man at eye level holding him and his big bulk level with one hand. Cytorrak did not ask a mere human bug for something as insipid as food , he took and destroyed who stood in his way. Jamal, however, did not, and Jamal was in control. He let the man down and apologized. This time the crimson color did not go away. The man nodded and said I haven’t closed yet. The buffet line is still open, but he recommended Jamal eat in the back room. Jamal agreed and waited for his food in the back. The trays of food placed in the buffet line were made and given to Jamal. He scarfed them down quickly and quietly only allowing the empty tray to hid the sink with a thud. Jamal grabbed some clean garbage bags and some rope and made a type of loin cloth for himself. None of school clothes would fit but he kept on eating. He felt like he could eat forever and ever without getting full. He noticed then that his muscles were getting bigger; more dense and massive. Everything he ate became size and power. Jamal thought, I need more. He ate until closing time and asked if the staff would feed him a little more. The bear stuck around. Jamal learned that his name was Matt. Matt was the biggest person that Jamal had seen next to him. And the fact that Matt had just ended a relationship with another bear helped Jamal a lot. Jamal sauntered into the restaurant at 1100 pounds. He called for service as if he was a customer. While waiting on Matt to bring the food. He had a vision. He was in a red place full of mountains and volcanoes erupting with the crimson lava. Then he saw a monster. It was him or a more monster like version of him. It was Cytorrak. “Mortal you have a strong will to defy me!” bellowed the beast. “Monster you are a resident in me not the other way around. I run this shit.” “Fool who do you think gave you the ability to be a juggernaut. I can take it away.” “Then take it. Then I will be free from you.” There was nothing for a moment. “Fine, human. You are a god among men now. Your heart is pure and you are not easily corrupted by power. Have your human nuances and food and sex. Your muscles will only get bigger and bigger as you enjoy them. I will grant you your sex and allow you to have this human toy for your purposes. But know this, you have a purpose to fulfill and you will fulfill it. Have your fun. I admit, I like you earthling. I like you so much that I will let you return to your life for four years. Get your earthly education. However, I am still as you say ‘your resident’ so I will continue to protect you. When you need my strength and power come back to this spot in your mind. I think 300 pounds should be a good enough guise. But have your fun tonight.” Jamal agreed just in time to feel Matt climbing his massive body with a tray of food ready to feed the mountain of hunger. Jamal was now in control, at least for four years. Matt lowered himself onto the massive dick and fed the growing Jamal. Every spoonful of food pumped the juggernaut even larger and his dick grew within Matt. Matt groaned in pain and pleasure and kept feeding Jamal. Tray after tray was poured into the juggernaut until there were no more. Jamal wanted to nut but was not even close. Matt, however, had nutted after every tray on Jamal. His curly black body hair was soaked with precum. Jamal began to pump, his massive glutes leaving cracks in the tiles and his rounded steel ab stomach flexing with every pump. But he felt full. Humanly full and fell backwards on the restaurant floor cracking the tiles in the process. Matt fell on top of him still impaled by the massive dick and in a deep slumber. Jamal had experienced a human night and having a 350 pound thick bear resting on his now 1300 pound frame felt good. It was what he was waiting for. . . And yet. . . Cytorrak now waited! PART 3 Jamal had just finished telling Matt about his encounter with Cytorrak. Matt apparently believed him. It was clear Matt had never seen (or fed for that matter) anyone that gigantic in his life. It was soon the end of his freshman year and so far, Jamal was in the clear. His football buddies, however they did it, managed to attribute Jamal’s size and power to a rare disease in India. Although few people witnessed him, they were convinced that not even steroids could do that to a person, so Jamal was Jamal again and not a freak of nature. In the summertime, Matt hooked Jamal up with a job as a dishwasher. It wasn’t much it paid for the gym membership and kept him out of sight while he gorged and grew, and with Matt letting him stay in his place, the sex had never been greater. Most night were filled with leftover buffet food, a gigantic dick impaling a restaurant owner, and a 600 plus pound black semi-juggernaut loving every minute of it. Jamal frequently visited the gym. Which was two blocks away. The gym owner had been Matt’s ex, but he had been nice enough to let Jamal lift when the gym was closed to the public. Life was good and before he knew it, Jamal was a sophomore in college. The day came when school started back and Jamal could not have been happier. He had not seen the crimson glow since his talk with Cytorrak but knew he had kept his word. His weight during the start of the day had not fluctuated from 300 pounds. Even during his eating sessions, he might reach 850 on a horny night. Even then, the crimson veins did not appear, just the monster-like ones that looked as though they would burst through the skin. Then one day fate should have 3 jocks harassing a cheerleader. The cheerleader was being pushed around and forced to her knees by the 3 jocks, each of which looked like they weighed 300 pounds each. Jamal, without thinking, ran over to the jocks and started to charge. He kept charging and until he made contact with a jock. Jamal hit the jock with full force and bumped backwards. The jock had stumbled some, but held his ground. This wasn’t right. Jamal had just stacked a bus on top of another a few months back and now he could barely move this other guy but a couple of feet. Then he remembered. He was not the juggernaut. He was a bigger version of Jamal. Even though he was bigger, he was still only Jamal.The other jocks began to get mad. Jamal was not going to run though. He wasn’t done yet. The girl turned her head and looked away. She knew that one on three were uneven odds. Nobody else was around so there were no witnesses. It was just Jamal. Jamal thought back to the place where he met Cytorrak. Once again he was in the crimson wasteland. The muscle giant was waiting. “You come seeking help human?” “Yes.” “You are getting beaten by these so called equals. I will aid you but I am curious. I want to see what this thing known as human sex is like. I want to possess you long enough to squash these insects and taste the human female cowering by the metal bench.” “Fine! Just help me not to get the shit beat outta me.” “Very well.” Soon the punches stopped. The jocks were backing away in horror. A not 9 foot 1100 pound Jamal rose from the ground. The biggest jock hit a dead solid punch to Jamal’s chest. The other two saw as Jamal’s chest didn’t budge. The jock’s hand shattered and he fell to the ground in pain. The other two jocks fled in fear, but Jamal was fast. He grabbed both the jocks by their collars and threw them into the bleachers. Jamal, quietly walked over to the girl who turned to see a monster coming towards her. Jamal’s sudden burst of power caused him to rip the underarmor he was wearing and the shorts were not far behind, leaving him bare chested and without shoes. The girl fell into his arms and Cytorrak picked her up easily and walked into the football team locker room. He twisted to door locked upon entering and ripped his pants off with one arm. The bulging muscles heavily outlined. However, still no crimson glow. Cytorrak was now in control and Jamal knew it. Cytorrak began to kiss her. Then he began to stroke his massive cock. She wanted it. The panties came down and Cytorrak inserted a small piece of his shaft into her. She moaned in pleasure. Then he lowered more. He looked at the clock in the room. 5:30PM. He began to fuck but Jamal gained enough control so that Cytorrak would not kill her by using full force. The fuck was sensual. Jamal gained little pleasure, but Cytorrak was livid with testosterone. He began fucking wildly and she came almost every time he inserted more of himself. He fucked her all night. Her screams of “Jay,” and “Daddy don’t stop,” only made the crimson behemoth thrust harder and harder. At 8 Am Cytorrak had stopped fucking, but not because he was tired. Jamal too, wondered, did the juggernaut ever sleep. So, he didn’t eat, drink or sleep. Whatever Cytorrak had planned bagan to worry Jamal, but he or rather Cytorrak was fuckin the shit outta of girl he just met. He didn‘t get that kind of action with his former body. He was starting to like the power. Next time, I will let Cytorrak enjoy human food. I‘m sure Matt will feed him till his hearts content. The girl was left in a concussion. A very mild concussion, but Cytorrak assured her that she would wake soon, but she would not remember who you were. But that she had the greatest fuck sesssion ever. Jamal thanked Cytorrak for his help and began to walk. But he had been heavier. “CYTORRAKKK!” “I’m sorry human, but I forgot about our deal.” Jamal as he was walking began to shrink back to his 300 lbs. Something however, was still not right. Jamal stopped at 400 pounds. “Sorry human, but we don’t want this to happen again.” Jamal agreed and went back to his dorm to recall the events of the day. His sophomore year was going to be very interesting. PART 4 Jamal's junior year in college had passed by rather quickly. He wanted to try his hand at something new. He promised himself that he would keep his grades up, but just felt bored with being 400 pounds of muscle. Cytorak had kept his end of the bargain by keeping Jamal safe and allowing him live as normal of a high school life as possible. Jamal had made the weight lifting squad at school with ease the following semester and was interested to try his strength out. There was something he had to do, however. "CYTORAK!!" "Yes Jamal?" "I made the weightlifting team, but unless I am in real danger, do not augment me with your strength." Cytorak questioned Jamal but Jamal informed him that humans tend to be edgy on steroid usage which he had to had to Cytorak in full later. Jamal was entering the summer of his senior year and the beginning of his short weight lifting season when it dawned on him. He only had 8 months left until Cytorak would want Jamal to hold up his end of the bargain. This made Jamal worry. What did Cytorak want him to do. Would it help people or would it hurt them? Jamal had to know. Jamal made outstanding gains on the team. He broke most of the school records. It would have been all of them but he didn't want to overdo it. The time ticked down and Jamal had to make a choice. He knew that Cytorak has helped him thus far and it would be a shame to lose that help, but he didn't want to kill anybody. What to do? Matt had been great to him so far and liked that Jamal was only 50 ponds heavier than him normally. Jamal had not really had to tap into his super strength and kinda missed that surge of unstoppable raw power. He then knew what he had to do. Later that night, Jamal stopped playing football a little early with his classmates and went back to Matt's restaurant. He asked Matt to stand by him as he entered the crimson wasteland once more to confront Cytorak for what would hopefully be the last time. Focusing, Jamal was once again in the wasteland. Cytorak was waiting. "Now human, I have let you have your fun. You will walk tomorrow and get your 'degree', but afterwards, I will take over the world as I did 400 years ago. Give into my power and you shall rule alongside me." "Cytorak I know what I agreed but I cannot kill anyone. It's just not me. I will be your warrior, your...juggernaut, but allow me to use this amazing power to help those in need of it. Merge with me and together we can save the world and you will be regarded as a hero." "HAHAHA, puny human, do you honestly think I care about these mere mortals. You are my juggernaut. You will outlast all of these insects by millenias. Still...your human sex is delightful especially when dominating the human male. Your words may hold some merit." Cytorak then began to think. Jamal waited. He might have actually won the muscle demigod over. "If I merge with you Cytorak, you will look like me, and be able to fuck anything under the sun. You will still be unstoppable and we can accomplish so much good together." "Human, strength is the least of my power. If I merge with you then you can grow to beat any situation and fluctuate your growth as you see fit. You would draw from my power, but I would gain pleasure from your interaction with humans. I never have experienced lust before." "Cytorak what are your other powers?" "Not only will we be unstoppable human, but we'll be indestructible." "Please Cytorak, merge with me and see what we can do together." Cytorak thought, and then Jamal was back in Matt's restaurant. Matt staring into his dark, handsome, loving crimson eyes... Jamal thought it was over, he was waiting for Cytorak to take control and end mankind's existence... then something happened... Memories of a young broad boy picking on his younger brother flowed into Jamals mind. Growing pains from a family that Jamal had never known and then Cytorak entered. A juggernaut entered Jamal's mind, but Jamal still remembered everything. He was still there. He still remembered his family, his friends, Matt, but where were these other memories coming from. Space travel, astrology, logic, geometry, anatomy, history, philosophy, all traveled through Jamal's mind and yet, Jamal was still there. Jamal had stopped. "Jamal," Matt called. Cytorak looked at Matt, then closed his eyes. Then Jamal looked at Matt and embraced him in a big hug. His 17" cock between the ab gut and Matt's muscle bear frame. Jamal had merged with Cytorak. "You bout to get fucked by a monster Matt." Jamal thought back to the crimson wasteland, but it no longer existed. There was just him and power. Jamal focused and looked to see the crimson veins emerge. Grow thought Jamal and he did. His frame packed on more and more muscle until the cement tile began to crack under the pressure. Matt looked on as his juggernaut lover grew to 6'5" tall and nearly 1200 pounds of dense thick black muscle. Those crimson eyes looked back with lust and the black love pole began to ooze precum. Matt climbed the planet of muscle and began to lower himself on the shaft. Jamal looked at Matt and wanted despartely for Matt to gain about 200 lbs. Suddenly Matt began to moan, His bear body began to grow as he lowered himself more and more onto the thick shaft. He was growing too... In the back of Jamal's mind, he heard a low whisper,"We are gonna fuck the shit outta him;did we say that right, human?" Jamal smiled to himself, then him and the 550 pound Matt had the best fuck session ever for the next 48 hours. It was gonna be a good life... ***Elsewhere an elderly bald man gazed out of his window looking into the wild blue sky and in deep thought. "Ororo," he shouted. "Yes Charles," said an silky voice from an african female. "Ready the jet. We're going to Atlanta..." Juggernuat pt.5: The RecruitmentJuggernaut pt.5: The Recruitment <"How do we know if we can get through to him Charles?" "I don't know Ororo, but this one is not like my step-brother...this one has control." "I hope for his sake that you are correct Charles."> Elsewhere in the city of Atlanta, bedcovers stirred as the massive bulk beneath them forced them up and down. A pair of crimson bright eyes opens and Jamal, the human juggernaut, has awakened. Jamal moved his 400 pound frame through the doorway and proceeded to take a shower. He loved the hot, steamy water run down his impenetrable body. He loved how good the lather felt on his love trail as he soaped his massively soft 13 inch rod. He stepped out of the shower, wraps a beach towel around his muscular waist and steps out onto the back of a house all to familiar to himself. The view from Matt's apartment, expescially from the back porch, looked absolutely divine. The way the crimson glow of the morning sun rose to meet the sky kinda reminded him of his own crimson eyes. It had been almost three days since he merged with Cytorak, the demigod essence of the juggernaut. Today was the day that he was going to test his new skills. At 400 pounds he had kinda just sat around Matt's apartment all day for fear of being ridiculed and mocked by passers. He didn't mind the attention, but he didn't have any type of clothes that he could wear out in public. He had grown out of them, or grown through them. Jamal thought and thought. Where could he find clothes that were big enough for him to wear? Not even the big and tall store would accomodate him. Then suddenly, he was wearing clothes. Not just any ol run a the mill clothes, but top fashion. The colors were weird though. Jamal was wearing a dusty orange tanktop that stretched over his muscular bound torso like under armour. His bottom was covered by loose fitting blue jeans and some boots. His sleeveless shirt showed the power and massive definition of his arms, which stuck out like cannons. It was very warm out today so Jamal thought nothing else more of it and was just appreciative of the fact that he now had clothes that not only fit, but looked good too. <"Charles, Atlanta is right below us." "Excellent Ororo. Now...Logan, you are to understand that this is strictly a recruitment mission. No claws!!" "Yeah ok bub. Just make sure ol juggie keeps his ducks in a row and we won't have any problems." "We'd better not Logan or you will spend the next however many birthdays you have left with the mind of a 10 year old schoolgirl." "You can do that?"> Matt had just finished getting dressed in time to see his humongous love toy walking out of the room. Jamal hugged his lover with a lot of passion, and due to their last fuck session, Matt was huggin right back. At 550 pounds, Matt had surpassed Jamal in size. However, Matt knew that Jamal could not be hurt now, and could grow larger if he wanted to. Jamal headed out the door and down the street to try out his new size. He ducked down some alleyways and into a nearby junkyard. If he were ever going to push himself to the limit, he would do it here. Grow Jamal thought as he beefed up even more. He was now at a massive 1100 pounds of juggernaut muscle. The clothes, however, did not rip and tear, but they flattened into a conformed armor like substance. His skin could already withstand everything, why did he need armor? In addition, there were two armbands that seemed to grow larger to accomodate Jamal's growth and a helmet made out of a weird metal substance. "Oh well, I guess this is just something Cytorak cooked up," thought Jamal as he picked up the nearest cadillac body with one arm and began doing lateral raises with ease. He tried everything from punching cars to ripping them in half like phone books, to juggling them, to crushing them to pure powder. He even impaled a car with his dick and lifted it up and down for reps. The power felt awesome. But Jamal had been here before. he had achieved this size with his weight making the earth beneath him shake. He wanted to get bigger. Grow Jamal thought. This time it was a little harder, but Jamal grew still. Feeding off the energies of the Cytorak crystal, Jamal's veins glowed the fiery crimson red and enlarged to massive vascularity. The cables used in most of the equipment now dwindled in size compared to the veins on Jamal's arms and chest. 1500 pounds, 1750 pounds. Jamal kept pushing himself farther and farther up the muscle pound scale. Matt just then entered the junkyard to find that his 6'4" 1900 pound lover was still growing. Jamal kept forcing the growth knowing that he would still be mobile and not be hurt by the pressure of the super dense muscle on his body. He really had to focus because his growth now was forcing him to grow taller. Jamal was now 6'8 and 2550 pounds. He decided then it was time to stop. He locked that as his weight and looked around to see what he could lift. Jamal, despite all of his juggernaut powers had broken a good sweat and now everything in the junkyard felt like feathers to him. He took a long pole and 26 buses and impaled 13 on each side to make the benchpress bar of buses. Jamal lifted the bar over his head grunting as him did so. The power in his crimson colored veins just pulsating with raw might and energy. Jamal had been pushing him limits all day and though he did not feel physical fatigue, his human mind had had enough. In a matter of moments, Jamal thought again and was encompassed by a crimson glow. His nearly 2600 pound massive mountain physique slowly shrank back down to the normal 400 pound one. The armor which had encompassed so much of Jamal's musclegrowth was once again fashionable clothing and the helmet and armbands disappeared into crimson smoke. Jamal was as he was and his ebony skin had returned to normal with no sign of the crimson veins. Suddenly out from behind a pile of scrap, rolled a man in a wheelchair. He was accompanied by a silver haired african woman and a scruffy rugged fellow who was smoking a cigar and gazing intently at Jamal's physique. "Hello Jamal. My name is Charles Xavier. I am the dean of Xavier Academy for the Gifted and these are my colleagues, Ororo and Logan. We think you would be a great addition to our school. We could teach you to hone your skills and make them more suitable than for just lifting junk." Jamal thought hard. <The last time he left Atlanta for some kind of adventure he ended up meeting Cytorak. Who the fuck knows what he could encounter elsewhere. But then again, Atlanta was getting old and boring. Maybe this could be a good idea. They said they can help me with my abilities. That's a lot of power to control.> Jamal you are not the only one with great power. Jamal jumped. Somehow the old man had spoken to him in his head. Then another voice, much more familiar, spoke into Jamal's head. Go ahead and join him. I can give Matt some sort of ability so that he can go too. Who knows it could be fun... Jamal thought about then agreed, of course if Matt could come along. Him and Matt went back to the apartment to gather somethings and would meet them in the morning... <"That was too easy Charles." "Relax Logan, I'm sure it will go smoothly, if you let it."> <"That was too easy Cain. The boy is going to be right under Charles' nose now. Now we can exact our revenge for all the times he has foiled us." "I know. Did you see the way the boy tapped into your power like that? I've never seen a juggernaut that large. I could barely hit 1000 punds. This bloke almost hits 3000." "Yes, I know. He has a strong will, but with that size and power, not even the great Professor X will be able to stop us."> To be continued... PART SIX Part 6: Orientation at the Xavier Academy Jamal stood in front of the massive oak doors that belonged to Xavier’s institute. The building was guised under a school for gifted students. However, Jamal knew that inside were some of the most powerful mutants in the world, including the headmaster. Go on in Jamal. You might need to talk with professor Xavier about your…new cirriculum. “I will do this my way. Hold on a second.” Jamal walked up and down the halls. It looked normal enough but that’s when he saw him. He was every bit as built as Jamal was. Slightly taller and bursting out of with dress shirt with blue furry muscle. The blue colored man-beast walked up to Jamal, his muscles sauntering and flexing along the way and extended a paw to the Juggernaut. “Hello. You must be Jamal. My name is Hank McCoy.” “Pleasure to meet you. Dude, where do you work out? You’re a beast!!!” “Well, beast is relative. This power is part of my mutant ability.” Jamal felt his manhood slightly tense up and the beast must have taken notice. Jamal thought he could see him flex one of his meaty pecs at him. “Maybe we can discuss my theory on mutant evolution in my lab sometime. Bring some old clothes though, I might put you to work.” Jamal nodded and walked away. At 400 lbs. of muscle, without him using the Cytorrak crystal, the Beast was every bit as large as Jamal was. Things were turning out to be interesting at this academy after all. As Jamal strolled through the hallways he saw the abilities granted to those at his new home. Telekinesis, weather control, plasma blasts, multiplication, super speed, and even teleportation. All of these things made Jamal feel less like a freak and he still noticed that he had not checked into his new room. The room looked like a normal dorm room. There was some nice headroom and Jamal figured out that the bed had been specially reinforced to hold him. Everything was perfect. Now he needed to talk with Cytorrak. Cytorrak. I need to talk with you. Cytorrak… Jamal then heard a voice that was not like former symbiote. Cytorrak is gone. Only Marko remains. You got me into this mansion and I’m gonna tear it down brick by brick! Jamal noticed that he was now dressed in his juggernaut armor, as well as Marko. They would have to fight until one of them was no longer able to continue. Jamal was nervous. Marko had after all been a juggernaut way longer than him. But he pressed on. Blow after blow was struck as the two massive piles of muscle collided. Cain seemed to be able to harness more power, but Jamal stayed vigilant and kept on the attack. Cain at one point forced Marko down to his knees. “Just what I thought, still a lapdog.”Jamal you must fight him. It was Xavier. Jamal focused on the power of the crystal and commanded its power. Then he grew. He whole body exploded with even more muscle growth. Jamal was pushing 900 lbs. when Cain threw a hard right into his abs. The abs stayed firm and Cain let out a shriek of pain. Jamal knew who was now in charge and hoisted Cain above him. Red energies began to flow from Cain into Jamal. As the black ex-college boy-turned juggernaut kept growing larger, Cain grew smaller and weaker. This, Jamal had figured must have been his original form before meeting Cytorrak. After sapping all of the red energy he dropped Cain to the ground and stood above him a massive 2800 lbs. of massive impenetrable muscle. Cain looked up at his conqueror in defeat and shame. “Please let me pleasure a real juggernaut before I die.” Jamal realized that Cain was not lasting very long is this crimson barren earth environment. The power of the crystal must have sustained him and now that Jamal had it all, Cain would soon perish. Jamal realized that what were his clothes were now shreds. His massive black cock stood a whopping 23 inches long and 8 inches around. Cain mustered his last bit of strength and got to his knees, taking the cock into his weakened mouth. He sucked until he heard Jamal moan in pleasure. Jamal flexed his cock up and down lifting Cain off the ground as it moved. He looked at his tank like body and began to flex his gargantuan muscles. “Yes Cain, suck that black monster!” Cain had to stop a little past the head but made it work. Jamal began to moan in pleasure. He was being serviced like never before. His muscles began to pump and swell even more with his increased testosterone. Then he came into Cain’s mouth. Gallon after gallon of cum forced its way into Cain Marko’s insides. Then, Cain stopped moving. Jamals massive amounts of cum were running out of his eyes and ears. His body had been flooded in Jamal’s massive nut. Jamal stood over his fallen predecessor and finally knew. He was now THE Juggernaut and the power of the crystal was now his. After leaving his crimson realm, he was back at the institute. He appeared back in his room still at his mammoth proportions. Shrinking himself down to a cool 600 lbs. he wondered if Beast could help find some new clothes. As he threw his bed spread around his body he walked down to Beast’s laboratory. He was going to like it here at the Academy. PART 7a: Juggernaut pt. 7: Getting to know your teammates!Jamal, after having finally removed Cain Marko from his muscled persona known as the juggernaut, just appeared back in his room in “Xavier’s School for Gifted Students” weighing a whopping 600 pounds. Jamal looked in his mirror and noticed how much more manly he looked than the recent college grad he was several months ago. His black chest hair had thickened and his muscles looked more and more dense. He also noticed that his eyes and his hair had taken on a crimson color, yet the veins no longer glowed when he grew. The power was now becoming fully integrated into his being and it was his to control. Jamal plopped on the bed. Here he was at this new school and had no friends here at all. What was even worse, there was no cheerleaders or restaurant owners to fuck. He decided to walk around and check out his surroundings. Maybe then he would get some leads in the right direction. First, though, Beast had asked for his help in the lab. He would handle this first and then take the tour later. Jamal headed down a flight of steps, through some corridors on the east wing of the school to find the lab occupied by Beast. Jamal could see where he got his name. In addition to the blue fur and animalistic features, Beast was exactly that; a beast. He weighed around 600 pounds, but was extremely agile and fast for someone with his physique. His lab coat, Jamal noticed, was big enough to cover a family car. The muscles bulged underneath the coat. His pecs rippled and flexed automatically as he went from one side of the lab to the other carrying with the utmost care a beaker of some type of greenish fluid. Jamal knocked on the door and saw the man-animal motion for him to come in. “Jamal, hi there. I’m Hank McCoy. I hope its not too much but I needed your help in lifting this reactor barrel and placing it in this machine. The barrel weighs the same amount as a hummer and I can’t lift that much alone.” “No sweat Mr. McCoy.” Jamal focused on his power and began to expand with more muscle. Beast watched with interesting intent as the black titan continued to grow and grow. Jamal looked and saw somewhat of a decent tent in the Beast’s slacks, but the man-animal moved the lab coat to try to hide it. Jamal walked over to the reactor barrel with a slight grin on his face. He now weighed about 1400 lbs. of solid muscle. Grabbing the barrel with one hand he easily picked it up, making sure to flex his 40” bicep in Beast’s face. After securing the barrel in the machine, Jamal turned back to the Beast. His coat could do nothing to hide the gigantic tent in his slacks now. Jamal gazed into those eyes and wrapped his massive arms around him. He felt the Beast in his mouth and all those animal-like teeth as their tongues wrestled each other for supremacy. Jamal held the Beast off the ground with one arm and ripped his lab coat and slack off with the other, leaving a massively muscled mutant with a 14” pole in his grasp. Beast began to moan as Jamal licked his furry body. From his furred chest to his armpits, the Beast was being pleasured like he never had before. Jamal’s powerful body overwhelmed the Beast completely. “You like what you see Hank?” “Yes Jamal. More, please don’t stop!” Jamal inserted his dick into Beast. The 600 lb. mutant frame was impaled by the mammoth tool. In and out, Jamal plowed Beast until the 600 lb. mutant could take no more. Shots and shots of cum flew onto Jamal’s thick and hairy chest and on his abs and biceps. “Lick it off!” Jamal commanded and the Beast took his thick long tongue and caressed every inch of Jamal’s muscular upper body. “Ummm yes that feels good Hank,” as the Beast fondled Jamal’s hard nipple. Jamal fucked and fucked his dick going in and out of the Beast. “Unnnnnggghhhhh!!” Jamal came inside of the Beast. Warm cum filled the Beast’s insides and Jamal, slowly, removed him from his tool. Beast turned off the lights in the lab and Jamal, with Beast lying on top, fell asleep on the floor. Jamal dreamed of what his other teammates were gonna be like… To be continued… Part 7b: Juggernaut pt. 7 It had been many months since Jamal had bested Cain in his struggle to obtain complete control over the power of Cytorrak. The young, black, ex-football player was really starting to fit in at the academy. Just days ago he was finishing up his studies in political science from Hank McCoy, who works for the US Government as a mutant ambassador. Afterwards he had a massive workout with an exchange student from Russia who turns out to be almost as strong as Jamal, but only when he covers his skin in an impenetrable metal. Being a human juggernaut was all in the days work, but Jamal felt something was still missing. He wanted a job. He knew he was still huge…even at constant practice he could only get down to 475 lbs. and still remain comfortable. He thought maybe a construction worker, or a bouncer at the local night club would be best. The next day he went and asked the Professor about getting a job. When Jamal walked in the office, the professor looked as if he already knew what Jamal had on his mind. His comforting smile made Jamal’s question a little easier to ask. “Professor, you said that you want to teach us how to blend in with society, and I wanted to know if I could get a job outside the school…just to feel…you know…normal?” Xavier looked at the 6 foot 4 inch tall massive youth and couldn’t bring himself to say no. Something about him reminded him of a family that he never got the chance to have. “Sure”, said Xavier. Jamal leapt for joy and went to the nearest computer for the classifieds. Be careful though my student, for the world is not as joyous as you may believe. Jamal knew the professor had just sent him a telepathic message. He turned back to Xavier and nodded, acknowledging that he understood. Jamal searched high and low…everything from working at a car garage to retail stores he looked for everything. Finally he settled in on Walmart. Stockers were in high demand, and with Jamal’s heavy lifting capabilities, he was a shoe in for the job. He went and told Logan about the gig. He seemed not to care but congratulated him on the job anyway. Jamal had made the assumption that Logan had just gotten out of the danger room. He noticed the extreme pump of Logan’s frame. Muscle after muscle was glistening on Logan’s torso, his knuckles a fiery red from where his hands would heal after retracting the adamantium claws during battle. Although Logan looked as if he were 235 lbs. of trained muscle, he actually weighed over 300lbs. due to the adamantium grafted to his frame. Jamal wondered what it would be like to fuck him full out. Since having his juggernaut abilities he has always had to watch his sex life, keeping his strength at a minimum else he may injure someone. Even the Russian and Beast could only take so much…maybe Jamal at 700 lbs., but Logan could heal. The possibilities were endless. Plus, the Cytorrak crystal properties allowed Jamal to heal when injured as well…the possibilities were endless. So he asked… “Mr. Logan.” “Yeah?” “Have you ever considered fucking…a guy?” “WHAT??!!” “Don’t take it the wrong way, but I think you’re hot and I can never go full out on anyone because I may hurt them or worse…you may be the only one that I use my full power on. You might enjoy it too…” Logan looked at the kid…he thought about the days long ago when he longed for a relationship but was afraid he may accidentally trigger his claws due to a sudden flashback or rage. He knew he couldn’t hurt this kid, and he still had this pump. But they needed a place where Jamal could unleash his true power without crumpling the mansion. Logan knew just the place… The blackbird was among the finest jets in the world. Able to achieve speeds beyond the mach level Jamal and Logan found themselves in the wilderness of Canada in no time flat. The huge trees and peaceful streams and rivers was calming to the both of them. Jamal had worn a black wifebeater and his black X-Men tights…which were the only garment that would stretch to…fit him. Logan had a flannel shirt and blue jeans with the sleeves on the shirt rolled slightly to his elbows. The shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a muscular chest covered in hair and a eight pack of abs. “Ready?” Jamal asked. “Yeah, yeah…get on with it.” Logan tried to sound tough but was itching at the chance to go all out with this kid. Jamal focused for a minute and then his eyes glowed the familiar shade of crimson. Mentally, Jamal was tearing down the barriers that allowed him to subdue the majority of his mass, allowing the powers of Cytorrak to course throughout his body. Letting out a massive roar, Jamal stared at Logan through lusting crimson eyes as pounds of muscle added onto his already massive black frame. Arms grew from 28” to a whopping 46” of pure defined muscle. His thick tree trunk legs ballooned out with massive thighs at 49” and calves at 35” of rock hard muscle. Jamal stopped at 1200lbs., but Logan saw through the kid. Even at 6’8” Jamal was still readable. Logan knew his charts in the danger room and walked up to Jamal’s big dick. “Don’t hold back, you can’t hurt me…” This was all Jamal needed, and again he began to balloon. His shoulders and chest stacked with power. His abs grew to the size of large cobblestones. Jamal was now reaching 1700lbs. of black juggernaut power. He flexed his massive quads and burst from his tights revealing his 28” dick. 9” around Logan starting oozing precum at the sight of the monster before him. Jamal suddenly snatched away Logan’s clothes with a quick jerk and easily lifted the 300 lb. adamantium laced mutant up to eye level and gave him the largest kiss. Both mutants naked in the Canadian forest. Logan looked at Jamal’s big dick and then back into the eyes of the mutant. He fell to the ground and began servicing Jamal’s big dick. Jamal begin to buck his hips as inch after inch went in and out of Logan’s wet mouth. Logan felt his esophagus bleed from the pressure and pain, but then felt it subside as his healing abilities kicked in. After hours of being face-fucked, Jamal laid down on the forest floor. Bringing Logan to his chest, Logan began to work his nipples. At this size Jamal’s nipples were the size of jawbreakers. Logan fondled and bit at the massive chest to the tunes of Jamal’s moaning. He had never been serviced at full size before. Jamal flexed his pec and Logan was not ready for the jolt…and separated a disc in his neck from the sudden jerk. However, things were soon set right as the disc repaired itself and Logan continued pleasuring his black juggernaut. Jamal grew impatient now. Logan was teasing Jamal and savoring every moment. The black juggernaut’s dick was now full mast and oozing pre cum into the crack of the Wolverine. Jamal was lubing the healing mutant for the ride of his life. Slowly he entered Logan. Logan howled in pain…and pleasure as Jamal forced inch after inch into the mutant until 17 inches had been inside Wolverine. Logan began to buck up and down on the massive tool and Jamal began to buck in rhythm. But the black juggernaut wanted more. Sitting up, he jammed Logan down further until the entire shaft was coursing through the mutant. Logan howled once again and claws flared from his hands to try and ward off the pain. However, it was no use…Jamal would not be denied his prize. Logan jabbed his claws into one of the massive black pecs, but the density of the muscle just barely allowed Logan to pierce the skin. Jamal fucked the mutant with all his might and power; the very ground trembling with every thrust until Logan collapsed on the juggernaut’s chest with eyes glazed over with a look of pure lust. Hours and Hours went by and Jamal continued to pound and pound…he would feel the blood trickling down the shaft, but then stop due to the healing factors. Wolverine ass continued to stretch to fit the massive dick. He almost passed out several times but his healing abilities kept him in the fight. “Don’t stop, please.” Logan couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was riding the dick of his life. His 24” arms pounded in futility on the rock hard cobblestones that were Jamal’s abs. Jamal showed no signs of slowing down…no sign of stopping. He was a machine and Logan was the only man in the world who could satisfy him. Jamal moaned at his mutant lover. He took his large hand and slapped the ass of Wolverine who bruised at that point and cried in pain. The bruise quickly subsided, but red was still there from where the skin was tender. Then, Logan felt it…he shot his massive load all over Jamal’s abs. Jamal scooped the cum between his massive, meaty fingers, and licked them clean. “Please big daddy more…” Wolverine was asking for punishment… and the juggernaut was happy to oblige. Jamal grew yet again inside Logan pushing 2300 lbs. Logan was in pure bliss. Finally, after what seemed like days, Jamal pulled out of Logan and stood him up against a tree. Logan had lost all feeling in his body and it was taking an unusually long time for his healing factor to restore his motor skills. Jamal shot his massive load. Torrent after torrent of cum covered Logan from head to toe until he looked like a glob on the trunk of a tree. His hairy chest lined with the cum from the juggernaut. Jamal looked at his lover and said “Thank you. That was amazing.” Logan couldn’t believe the monster he just fucked and nodded in agreement. The last thing he remembered was collapsing into the arms of his juggernaut, as Jamal wrapped his massive arms around him and went to sleep on the forest floor. PART 8 Juggernaut pt. 8 Out in the Canadian wilderness, Logan was regaining consciousness thanks to his healing factor. Despite his lifespan and living through countless wars, Logan had never experienced pain and bliss like this. His hole was still stretched from the pounding he received from Jamal. How had this kid tamed the crimson menace Cytorrak? Logan, better known to his enemies as Wolverine, had tackled Juggernaut before, but in an evil way. But there was something different about this Avatar…the kid was in control. And Logan liked it. His bare naked body covered in snow, Logan was all too familiar with the icy climate of the Canadian tundra. He also noticed that he seemed to be lying on some type of mound…one that kept rising and falling as if it were breathing. Logan wiped away the snow to reveal a pair of ebony pecs that stretched as far as a Hummer, leading to a set of abs that looked like cobblestone from a historic downtown scene. On top of a now 3450lb. mass of juggernaut, Logan now observed two crimson eyes and a bright smile looking at him. The kid had not slept. He had no need to sleep. He had laid there under Logan waiting for him to recover. Logan had a spare suit in the Blackbird and went to recover it to shield his naked body. As Logan dressed, Jamal surveyed the gruffy looking mutant before him, he flashbacked right to that moment when not even the great Wolverine could hold on, and blacked out due to the sheer power of Jamal’s sex drive. At far glance, Jamal could have sworn Logan was bigger than before. He then focused his crimson energies and noticed that he, although unintentionally, had grown Logan just as Cytorrak had grown his friend Matt. Logan now weighed 475lbs. rugged glistening muscle. The drastic muscle growth is probably what delayed Logan’s healing process. Even after Logan emerged in his spare suit he could physically notice the change. The X-suit drastically expanded over the Canadian’s larger frame…seemingly outlining every pumped muscle. Jamal decided that he would let Beast investigate this, as it was Logan’s healing factor that prolonged his life. He didn’t want to jeopardize that. Suddenly, Jamal could hear birds flying overhead…there was a storm coming. But, there was no rain to be sensed. There was lightning and thunder…and without warning, an object crashed to the snow covered ground with a deep thud. Jamal went over to investigate the large crater left in the ground. He thought only he was capable of creating something that large. He heard the familiar sound of exposed adamantium as Logan followed closely…claws ready. Focusing his energy, the familiar armor began to emerge and cover Jamal. He decided that he could do without the helmet, as he might need all his line of vision in order to deal with whatever made that huge crater. Ever since Jamal defeated Cytorrak for exclusive right to Juggernaut power, he had been able to shape the armor as needed. It was more streamline…not as bulky, and very skin fitting revealing every bit of muscular power. Although Logan knew he outweighed the onyx beast by 25lbs., he knew that at a thought, the tides could drastically turn. Whatever was in that crater, he didn’t like it, and looked forward to using his new bulk in battle. Cautiously they approached the large crate. The object seemed mostly made of some type of metal…old leather wrapped the handle tightly with inscriptions carved into the surface. It looked as though it was perfectly made; every angle perfect. Not a single flaw. At first glance, it looked as though the hammer was comprised of silver. Jamal used his crimson powered senses. It wasn’t silver, titanium, adamantium, vibranium, or any known element on Earth. It was like no hammer Jamal had seen. Suddenly, there was a crash of lightning and a being appeared before them…clad in robes that looked as if they were borrowed from Norse mythology…long flowing blond hair. But Jamal, even after he had shrunk back to the 450lb. norm, had noticed the size of the man. He weighed every bit as much as Jamal and taller! A handsome square chin and a smile that brighten even the darkest of taverns. At that point, the being looked down at Jamal and Logan with a look of neutrality. He didn’t seem hostile, but he wasn’t exactly pleasant. Figuring he was a visitor from another realm, and seeing as he had appeared precisely where the hammer fell, Jamal thought he would make the first gesture. He bent down and wrapped his large hand around the leather bound hammer. Logan tried to mouth the word “stop”…but it was too late, as the ebony juggernaut lifted the small hammer with ease. With the most innocent of looks, Jamal said to the man “Is this your hammer?”… PART 9 Juggernaut pt. 9 - A Tale of Two BrothersThe hammer rested ever so gently in the large hand of Jamal. The blond giant clad in Norse armor took one look at the Juggernaut and the Wolverine…and smiled. “You my onyx friend, have a good heart,” bellowed the god-like being. “I am Thor Odinson of Asgard. Who are you? You do not look as puny as normal humans.” Jamal answered with his name, and then introduced Logan. “Why are you here Thor?” Jamal asked. Thor thus explained his story: My father’s palace was invaded today by Frost giants, led by my brother Loki…he’s adopted. While my father was placed in the Odin-sleep, a slumber that replenishes his life force, and thus leaves our palace weakened. I managed to defeat my brother and his army, but not before he used magic to banish me from Asgard for three earth days. I am stuck in this realm and cannot return until the sun sets on the third day. By then, I do not know how much of Asgard will have been compromised. My friends and allies will fight on so I am not worried. It will take Loki another week before he attacks Asgard again. Meanwhile, I fear he will try to attack Midgard next. With my allies stuck in Asgard, and me alone here, I think it only a matter of time before he sets out to conquer your world. I asked Mjonir to guide me to a source of energy strong enough to help me protect Midgard, and it seems…ebony giant, that it has chosen you. Jamal was awestruck…just moments ago, he had the sexual experience of his life, and now he was asked to accompany this titan on a mission to protect the earth. “Has Loki attacked yet”? “No, but it is only a matter of time…I know he is planning something,” Thor responded. “Well we will have to wait for Loki’s plan,” Jamal said. “Until then, we need to find back up. Wolverine, take the blackbird back to the mansion and let Prof. X know about our encounter. I will head to find help elsewhere. I read about some people who can help us out.” “And what would I do?” Thor asked. “You and your hammer can detect Loki’s energies. Keep a lookout for him, and alert us when you discover his plan…until then, try and blend in with the public”. Thor’s asgardian hammer suddenly turned into a pair of denim jeans, and button down denim shirt with construction work boots to match. Mjonir formed into a leather watch fitting snuggly around the wrist. “I was referred to as Donald Blake in another lifetime. I think that name will work now,” the now slightly smaller and normal looking Asgardian spoke. Wolverine was already preparing for liftoff. “Hey, Thor. Can that hammer transport me to New York?”. The watch flashed, and in an instant, Jamal found himself in Times Square. Ducking into alleys, and around corners he came upon a busted up gym located off the beaten path. There seemed to be only one person in there, and that was the person he needed. Jamal walked into the gym and noticed another black stud pushing iron around as if it weighed nothing. Clad in a yellow hoodie and some loose fitting black jeans, the behemoth benched what had to be industrial made bars with weights equaling that of small vehicles. Sweat drenched his coffee brown skin and little more facial hair that a goatee and mustache. His bald head glistened in the hot gym, and he looked to weigh every bit as Jamal, but a bit more dense in muscle tissue. “Can I help you?” the big man asked. “Yeah”, Jamal answered… “I’m just here to workout.” The big man looked at Jamal. “Kid, you look like you been liftin’, and you might be on that steroid shit, but this ain’t your standard college gym.” Jamal ignored the laugh from the ebony titan, and took a further look. What he thought were 45lb. plates actually weighed 200lbs. each. The bars each weighed 175lbs. Everything had been upped in weight and size to give this man a workout. Jamal looked at the brute. He looked aged, like in his early 40s, but built like a brick shithouse. “I still want to workout with you. Anything you lift, I want to work in on,” Jamal blurted out. “Kid if you can workout with me like that, then I’ll fuck the Hulk,” the big man laughed out loud again. “And what’s your name Hercules?”, joked the brute. “Jamal, and yours?” “The name is Luke…Luke Cage.” The nerve of this kid. Cage had seen big, but normal strength (even at that size) wasn’t shit compared to his. Cage had volunteered to receive superpowers in order to make some extra dough and for protection during racial times. The serum he received pushed his weight to well over 450lbs., increased his strength to superhuman levels, and made his skin nearly indestructible. He had done some brief missions under the alias “Powerman”, but that was all behind him. His girl, Jessica, left him and he pounded away his woes in the custom built gym. Jamal felt a stir. He wanted to be challenged. He saw Cage as a potential training partner. Usually Colossus would work out with him, but seeing as how he always had to maintain his other form to lift, it was pretty limited. But Cage…Cage was filled out in all the right places, and Jamal had ideas for this one. “So Jamal, let’s start with the bench.” Jamal had willed his armor to transform into workout clothes prior to coming into the gym. He was fueled by the power of Cytorrak. He would show Cage power…and then Cage would get his fuck by the Hulk… just not the green type. Jamal lowered himself under the bar. With four plates on each side, the weight was 1775lbs. Jamal hoisted the bar, much to Luke’s surprise and began pumping out reps. The weight was light and Jamal knew it. After pumping out 30 slow and consistent reps Jamal’s pecs began to push away from him. He flexed them a bit for Cage who began to lick his lips. Cage then pumped out 30 reps, but seemed to have to work extra hard for the last two. “Increase the weight,” Jamal said. Luke added another two plates to each side. Instead of benching though, Jamal grabbed the bar and began to curl the weight. The crimson bands on his arms stretching with each concentrated rep. The pump in his arms were incredible, and Jamal could feel the strength flowing through him. He could also feel something else…lust. He was timid with Logan…he had never pushed himself that far, but with this guy, he was not holding anything back. Jamal dropped the weight to the floor with a thud, and began to grow. He didn’t want to grow taller, he wanted power. He wanted domination. Cage’s dick was at full mast. He wanted the goliath. Jamal grew and grew past the 2300lb. mark. He picked Cage up like an infant and engaged in a deep passionate kiss. “This is your Hulk fuck,” Jamal whispered in Cage’s ear. Precum oozed from Luke’s tip as Jamal let his own precum drip into Cage’s mouth. After a while, Cage began to grow. His chest and back began to expand, ripping his hoodie to shreds. His legs grew more and more dense, and his shaft grew thicker and longer. All the while Jamal grew. Cage looked up and saw pure crimson eyes. Jamal had tapped into his subconscious…the place where he kept the bulk of his power. He wanted to use his full strength, but he needed a stronger subject first. Jamal entered Luke’s waiting ass. His precum lubed the way and inserted about half the flesh monster into the former superhero. Cage moaned in lust and pleasure, and began to buck up and down on the shaft. His impenetrable skin just served as a large flesh light for Jamal, and he couldn’t be happier. Then, as if commanded, Jamal shouted “Grow”. Cage once again exploded with muscle. He had never experienced such power. He was now stronger than even. Fuck a super soldier, he was the super soldier. Pulsing at 6’7” and 1200lbs. Cage was ripped. Not an ounce of fat, and all the while, he was be pummeled by this behemoth. Jamal smiled at his creation, but his eyes still stayed a deep shade of crimson. He had passed the 4000lb. mark and showed no intentions of stopping. Cage could only whimper as Jamal shoved more of his manhood into Cage. Each time, Cage would pump up to further dimensions. With a final surge, the crimson in Jamal’s eyes subsided, and only warmth and lust remained. Cage gazed at his 1900lb. body in the mirror. He was power, but nothing compared to the behemoth of whom he was at the mercy of. Jamal stood glistening and pumped at 5000 solid pounds of dense proportionate muscle. Jamal gazed into the eyes of his creation, and slowly slid the rest of his dick into Cage. Cage howled in pain, only for it to subside into pleasure. Cage, clawed and scratch Jamal’s back while getting the fuck of his life. Nothing phased the him. Cage pounded on Jamal’s beefy chest begging for release. The fists would have pulverized whatever it hit, but only made a small thud on the large monstrous chest. Jamal slammed Cage into the gym floor creating a large crater. Each thrust made a wave that threatened to comprise the old building. But Cage could take it. With impervious skin, it was just like a regular fuck. Jamal slammed in and out of Luke and the pleasure made the “hero-for-hire” roll his eyes in the back of his head in pleasure. Toes were curled and tree trunk sized legs wrapped as far around Jamal as possible, clinging for more sex. Cage tried grabbing a fully loaded bar to stabilize, but Jamal grabbed the bar with one massive hand, and threw it across the gym, never losing his rhythm. He was there to establish dominance and will Cage to work with him. After this fuck session, Cage would be his, and he would have someone to handle all of his power. After several positions, Luke found himself riding the behemoth. His own massive hands resting on Jamal’s cobblestone abs. Up and down, Powerman rode the monster, his ass dripping precum from the monstrous tool invading his insides."Sooo.....much.....power...", Cage whimpered in pure lust, as Jamal continued dominating him. “What…are…you?”, Cage gasped. Jamal fucked steadily…seemingly ignoring the question. After hours and hours passed, their essence filling the gym with musk, Cage finally blew his massive load over his own abs and chest. Jamal fucked for a few more minutes and then released a massive load into Cage, who doubled over from trying to hold it all in, growing a few hundred pounds more. Jamal then slowly removed his massive tool from Cage’s now stretched ass and let him roll onto the cracked and destroyed floor, only to cum again on Luke’s face and chest. As he grabbed a gym towel and stood to wipe the sweat from his glistening, massive body, he looked down on an exhausted, spent, cum-covered and panting Luke Cage, smiled and simply said, “I’m the Juggernaut, bitch, and you're hired.” Outside, unbeknownst to either of the two Nubian monsters, a tall slender brown-haired man clad in green robes and a golden scepter smiled at the destruction, and then disappeared in a cloud of smoke. PART TEN Juggernaut pt. 10: Strange-Love It had been two days since the powerful, lust-filled romp between Jamal and the now monstrous Luke Cage. Weighing in at over 2000lbs., Cage was a beast. One day ago, Cage easily defeated the Thing in a “playful” wrestling match, which resulted in several cracks in the Thing’s physique…including his fists from trying to gut punch Cage. Ben Grimm was thankful for the quick healing technologies of his Fantastic Four partner Reed Richards. Two days since the warning from Thor, and still no signs of Loki trying for a takeover of Earth. According to the hammer-wielding god of thunder, there would only be one day til Thor would return to Asgard to his father Odin and the rest of his people. Still, despite the quiet and his new relationship with Luke, Jamal felt uneasy. He had had confrontations with mutants who could read minds, control metal objects, and god-like beings who could create avatars of their power. Jamal was such an avatar. As the juggernaut, Jamal couldn’t remember the last time he actually had to eat, drink, sleep, or even breathe for that matter. The one thing Jamal still felt connecting him to being human was the sex. And there was lots that. He would eventually have to force himself to stop with most of his partners because they needed to sleep. However, with mutants and super humans like Wolverine and Luke Cage, he could go for hours and hours on end. Still, some part of him wished to be a normal human: to enjoy a steak and lobster, to have a beer with his classmates, to play a game of football without worrying about injuring his fellow players or worse. Still, with no signs of Loki yet, Jamal felt that this time could be spent gathering more allies for the impending battle. He did not know much about Loki, except from what he gathered from Thor. Loki, apparently, was a god of mischief, had exceptional strength and stamina, half-frost giant (whatever that was), and was a master in magic. Well giant blood or not, between Cage and himself, Jamal was sure he could match almost anyone in strength and stamina. Magic, however, was a different task. Due to Cytorrak’s power, it was very difficult for Jamal to be possessed, or controlled. The spellcaster, normally, would have to take over Cytorrak first, who would eventually make the avatar do his bidding. Since Jamal had full control over this essence, the spell would have a tougher time controlling both of them at once. Jamal thought of his new love Luke. What if Loki infected him? He wouldn’t have the heart to stop him. They really had grown close over the last couple of days, and there was no one else on the planet that could satisfy Jamal sexually. Yes, he needed someone with magical capabilities. Just then, he felt a tug…almost like a mental tug. Jamal didn’t have his juggernaut helmet but this was no psychic mutant invasion. He felt those before. This was someone trying to pry into his thoughts. Suddenly, a projection entered his thoughts. A middle aged man with jet black hair, dressed in occult clothing and jewelry hovering in a meditative position. His age seemingly determined by the neutrality in his eyes, and seemingly graying temples. The projection spoke: You are strong indeed, avatar of Cytorrak, to guard your thoughts from me. I am called many things, but you may call me Doctor Stephen Strange. I know of your dilemma, and I can be of great service. My associate, Wan, will meet you at this address (a location flashed through Jamal’s thoughts). With that, the projection disappeared and Jamal snapped out of his daze. He was sitting on the makeshift couch in Luke’s gym. Apparently, Luke had outfitted the place as a living and training quarters. Jamal kind of felt bad he almost wrecked it. There was a huge reinforced bed, a bathroom, hologram projector (courtesy of something called SHIELD), and of course a kitchen. It was from this where a 7 ft. 2000lb. smiling tower of onyx power emerged with two plates of food. Although Jamal was now much smaller than Cage, Cage knew that Jamal could outgrow him at a moments notice. Nonetheless, Jamal knew he didn’t have to eat…but Luke insisted that he did. He didn’t want his man wasting away. When Jamal opened his mouth to remind him that he didn’t need food and tell him of his encounter with Doctor Strange, Cage shoved in a fork full of chicken pasta. It tasted great, and eventually Jamal finished the entire plate (although he didn’t feel full). It reminded him of being somewhat human, at least for a while…and it was nice that Cage was taking such great care of him. After dinner, Cage slowly began to peel off Jamal’s clothing, revealing the solid musculature of the juggernaut. “I’ve never been this big before J”. “Thanks for sharing some of yourself with me.” “No problem,” Jamal said. He had wanted someone to handle his sexual urges, but then had an idea. Cage saw his lover’s eyes glow the familiar shade of crimson and watched as pounds of muscle began to pile onto his lover. However, Jamal stopped at around 1400 lbs. And the crimson shade subsided. Next, Jamal tapped into his inner power again, this time lowering a significant portion of the magic keeping him invulnerable. He took one of his large hands and stroked the large black dick of Luke, making him moan in lust. Cage began oozing precum, and what was left of his clothing had been ripped away by Jamal. Jamal bent down and gently lapped the precum with his tongue sending Cage into a frenzy. Afterwards, Jamal wrapped his mouth around the wet cock and went to work sucking Cage for all he was worth. Cage grabbed the back of Jamal’s head and face-fucked him with all his power. Jamal could just feel the strength radiating from the legs of Cage and his forehead touching the chiseled lower abdomen of the powered up hero for hire as he gagged on the monster being force fed to him. After Cage was fully lubed, Jamal said “I just want to be yours today.” “Take me”, growled Jamal. Cage lifted the Juggernaut up like a baby and slammed him on his massive lubed dick. Jamal howled in bliss and pain as Cage used him like a toy, pushing Jamal’s hole to the hilt of his dick. Sweat began to build on Cage, who realized that the Juggernaut had lowered his defenses for him…and only him…so that he could do THIS. The thought drove Luke wild with lust and he began to pound harder. Jamal had to keep some of his healing abilities in tact, or Cage might have killed him. But invulnerability was another story. Cage was now in control, fucking with all his might; sweat glistening on the skin of the two behemoths…and for the first time, Jamal felt his eyes roll in the back of his head as Luke found his sweet spot over and over again. Jamal moaned in lust…he had never felt so much pleasure and pain at the same time. Luke carried Jamal, still impaled on his massive dick, to the bed and laid him down. Still keeping with his thursts, he looked down at his large lover…not quite as large as Cage, and smiled in dominate satisfaction. Jamal moved his hand to jerk his own dick only for his ass to be smacked by a large hand and a resounding “NO” to be commanded to him. Luke reached his large meaty paw around Jamal’s dick and began to twist and jerk, sending the crimson juggernaut into pure ecstasy. “You belong to me tonight baby”, said Cage as he continued to work the ass and dick of his love. Jamal reached up and felt the tense bicep of Cage and the massive chest. He knew he could be twice this size and dominate him, but for tonight…this was enough…and “enough” felt damn good. Cage saw the lust and began to flex, his rod still filling Jamal’s hole. Jamal, however, didn’t want Luke to have all the fun, and began to flex the muscles in his ass, clamping onto the massive tool inside, massaging it for its worth. Cage felt shudders as his man tool was aroused; his beefy hand still working a big dick. He would not be denied and picked the behemoth up and slammed him on the bed, until he stopped flexing his ass and submitted. Cage was king tonight, and Jamal knew it. Both men, animals of lust, gods of power and strength. Finally, Cage could take no more, and unloaded torrent after torrent of cum into Jamal’s ass. Still gripping Jamal’s dick, Luke swallowed the tool and sucked Jamal dry. Although no growth occurred from the milking, Cage was satisfied nonetheless. He then withdrew his rod from his lover with a resounding pop and collapsed on the bed next to Jamal. Cage turned over to watch the sweaty, heaving muscles laying next to him, rising and falling with every breath. Jamal had been pushed to sexual exhaustion, and an unfamiliar sense had washed over him…sleep. Cage smiled and whispered in his ear…”Cytorrak, I know you’re still there; make him invulnerable again for me, but I ask you to let him sleep.” A strange crimson glow washed over Jamal, and the bruises from the chest slaps and slams, the purple patches surrounding his ass where Cage pounded with superhuman strength, and the dislodged jaw areas from the face-fucking suddenly began to repair. However, the slightly smaller giant remained fast asleep. Cage smiled and hugged his lover to him in a strong embrace and drifted to sleep. Elsewhere…an elderly man enters a den-like area to find a middle-aged man floating in mid-air in a state of meditation. “Stephen, you may want to transport them here.” Stephen Strange opened his eyes, and turned to his friend, smiling. “I will transport them in the next few hours Wan. For now, let them enjoy their time and love. They will need as much as possible for the coming days.” To be continued…

Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4766-camp-newlake-race-for-the-buff-part-1/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4794-camp-newlake-race-for-the-buff-part-2/ Well, this is it! The final bit for Ben and Adam, hope you like it, as always, and there's another story which I'm working on which should go up on Monday. In fact I think I'll post stories every Monday and Saturday from now on, just so you know. Why? I don't know, it's fun. And, I'll be posting them on DA too. (Oh did I mention I have a an account on DA too, it's SoupBacons on DA, did I mention that, well I'm mentioning that >_>) xD Oh well, have fun, here it is. /// PART THREE Adam walked. Coming nearer to the edge of the woods, where everyone else had gathered, waiting to see what had happened to him and Ben. He went through the last few bushes, and got onto the clearing – it was still so strange how his body reacted so quickly, did things so much easily now, now that he was bigger, no – now that he was finally big, and… strong. He couldn’t even believe that he was thinking that, and that it was actually true. He got out of the forest, and the others looked at him, he heard gasps, oohs and aahs. Then, they all got up and went towards him with great smiles of admiration on their faces, all in awe – almost shouting praises in disbelief. This made him smile as he flexed his bicep for them – looking at it. “Yeah – I know I’m pretty big h—“ He stopped, as he noticed them all rush right past him. He turned around and saw the giant Ben behind him, grinning playfully as he encouraged everyone to touch him, admire him. “Oh yeah…” He began in a deep, sensual tone. “I’m even bigger, what’d I tell you?” Then, he let out a quiet chuckle. ‘Damn.’ Is everything that went through Adam’s mind as he laid eyes on Ben again – just taking in how large and muscular and more importantly, tall, this teenager had become. A short while later, he found himself enter the main hall of the camp, along with everyone else, though they were following Ben to the gym. ‘I wish… I wish there was some way to get more… more… power. I have to win, yeah, I do. He had his share…' Thought Adam, as he went by the potion closet again, briefly remembering last night’s events. ‘If there were some way I could win. He’s not gonna let me, that’s for sure – he’s so large and strong and… well, he’s loving it, if only- OH!” Something came to him. ‘The potion closet… oh… a… speed potion. Yes, yes. Hm, that would do.’ *** Ben stood in the gym, in complete silence, surrounded by almost everyone else from the camp. He was almost naked, only few rags wrapped around his privates. He simply stood there, looking at himself in the mirror. ‘Good God. I’m not even flexing and I’m the biggest, most ripped dude in here. There’s no way I’m not getting more. God, it feels so good. And that damn twerp’s gonna come back begging me tonight to let him win. There’s no goddamn way I’ll let that happen –he’s had his share, now it’s my turn to become a GOD.” He said, and looked down at his arms and chest, which seemed to stretch endlessly in length and width. There was almost no muscle on his body that wasn’t pronounced, below his skin there were only large slabs of thick, hard meat. He flexed his forearms, his pecs, seeing them explode outwards, as he slyly smirked, feeling so dominant in the gym. “Well – what do you say…” He began, breaking the silence, as his inadvertently loud and deep voice startled everyone. “…am I gonna’ show you what these things can do?” Ben was met with unanimous encouragement, and so – he began working out. He loaded up the bench press with all the weights he could possibly fit onto it. He lay down, feeling how his wide back rested on only a portion of the bench, and he gripped the bar, lifting the weights – almost feeling himself get bigger right there and then. His arms were burning, his chest rose up and down as he was breathing, working – it was so wide and thick – in fact there really wasn’t a part of him that you could say wasn’t. He felt the weights get too light, very quickly. As he went from machine to machine, the rest of the night –as his admirers followed closely, often asking to squeeze his muscles, or telling him to flex – he felt something. *** “Dude…” Ben said as he entered the cabin, later that evening. “All the weights in the gym are so light – like, I can’t even get a good pump from them.” He had to duck slightly as he came in, sitting down on his bed, he had to duck slightly again, as he sat, Adam’s bed was too low now. He spread himself across the bed, just his butt taking up ridiculous amounts of space, he rested his arms behind his back and he leaned on the wall behind. Adam turned around as he heard him sit down and almost let out a gasp – always forgetting how large Ben had really become. ‘God, I’m getting too big for this place, it’s like… if I were a bit heavier – this bed would totally break right beneath me.’ Adam came closer, looking at Ben, who nonchalantly tossed aside the rags that covered up his dick – leaving himself totally exposed, his big meaty cock hanging free. Adam could barely speak – ne never really felt this before, but – Ben was so… so… hot. He felt himself get hard, slowly, he tried to think of something else, take his eyes off his big, round pecs, his brick like abs his… no! He had to start the conversation. “Er, what… what did you, er… say about, um… the…” He began. “What, the weights?” Ben cut him off, eager to get to the point. “Y- yeah. The gym.” “I said I’m too strong, basically. In fact, I’m the biggest, strongest man in the whole camp. No doubt.” “Y- Hm, mhm, no er, certainly no um, no doubt about that – heh.” This felt even stranger for Adam as he was getting used to his dick being so much bigger now, his erection raged underneath his pants, he hoped Ben wouldn’t see this. “I see that.” Ben said – and Adam flushed red. Then, Adam noticed Ben’s own manhood begin to enlarge. Blood surged into his massive beast – slowly making it stand up straight. With his mouth agape Adam looked at it, so long, so… thick. “Suck it.” Adam snapped out of it. “What?” He asked, bewildered. “I said… suck it. I’m way too turned on by my own body – I want you to suck my dick.” “I… I…” Adam began, but Ben cut him off. “Just look at me man, I basically take up most this bed just sitting on it like this – in fact I don’t think I can sleep on it anymore. You think you can say no to me?” Adam slowly approached, and got onto his knees, between Ben’s long, spread legs. He put his hands on Ben’s thighs, his hands – even thought bigger than before, looked puny on his friend’s big legs. He looked up at Ben’s big juicy cock, and he couldn’t resist anymore. “Ooh yeah…” Ben let out – as Adam began to slowly wrap his mouth around his dick. He wasn’t very good, but it still felt amazing. He just occasionally flexed his muscles, making himself feel even more powerful – as he felt amazing sensations from his dick. Adam had a hard time dealing with a dick that big, but he wasn’t about to give up – he took the opportunity to grope and touch Ben’s large muscles as he sucked him off, he himself ejaculated some time ago – but, he didn’t care. This went on into the night. Adam sucked him off twice, then Ben took things into his own hands, he was tireless, and Adam reluctantly retreated onto his bed, falling asleep, not quite believing what happened. *** It was race day – Adam was already on the starting line, Ben was there with him. Adam took out his potion he grabbed from the closet – he looked at it, thinking this would allow him – hey! “What’s this?” Ben said – as he snatched the potion from Adam. ‘Oh, so this is what he had in mind, damn cheater.’ He thought as he examined the potion. “Well, Adam – come on. Really?” He said, as Adam hung his head. “You think this… could beat me?” Adam was beginning to dislike Ben’s new attitude, he has certainly changed, in way more ways than one. “Well, you know what, how about – you share this, Adam… with, oh let’s say… me?” He said, and motioned like he was going to drink the potion. “Or… you share it… with – everyone?” Now, Ben opened the potion and in one fel swoop sprayed it across the starting line, spraying everyone on the track. Now, Adam saw the effect of the potion – along with everyone else there. Everything went a bit blurry, all but a circle in his field of view – right in front of him – tunnel vision. He felt fast – incredibly fast, the next few minutes of READYSETGO! Went on in an instant. Ben watched as everyone went ahead of at blistering speeds, but he… smiled, gently. Waiting for his time to begin the race. *** Adam went on, everything slowed down a bit, as the effect of the potion wore off, slowly. They were all running at about the same pace – he could see everyone else more or less in line with him. When, suddenly – they heard something fro— ‘Oh no, Ben.’ He thought to himself, as Ben really propelled himself with his long, power packed legs a horse would be jealous of along and over the track. He was gaining on them – they were all suddenly running faster from some fear he inspired in them. They were all so close – they saw the crystal in sight, they were right against the opening, coming closer and closer. ‘Aha! No – are we… are we all gonna touch it…’ Adam thought as they neared it. ‘…at the same…’ They came closer and closer. ‘…time?’ Then – a flash! The crystal disappeared – for a moment they were all excited – YES – they did it! They were all expecting something to happen to them. But – then they saw Ben. His long arm outstretched – from behind them, just so much longer than everyone else – he reached it… first. “NOOO!” A few of them cried, as he looked down on himself, first in disbelief – then, he began to laugh, loudly and deeply, laugh – he knew what was coming. “Prepare yourselves twerps – I am going to become… MAGNIFICANT! HAHAHAHAA!” He said, as he flexed almost every muscle on his body. They all became bigger as he did so – they stopped for a moment as he flexed them to their max – but then, to everyone’s dread – they slowly began to grow more… and more. His arms widened, his biceps becoming rounder, fuller – growing underneath his skin, becoming the biggest pair of biceps that anyone there had ever seen in person, his forearms exploded outwards as muscle build up in them. His round shoulders became even wider, as steel-hard muscle packed inside them and his widening back – which was criss crossed with a web of large muscles, leading to his growing bubble butt, which lengthened downwards into a pair of impossibly strong, firm thighs, their muscles flexed and growing still. His calves took on a new size as well growing even bigger and much more defined, his whole body was bursting with strength and power. His cock got even longer, Ben oozed a masculine and seductive smell that made even him horny. His six-pack turned into a solid, hard eight-pack, every muscle visible – his huge pecs heaving up and down on his chest as he breathed faster. Then, he elongated – becoming even taller, and taller, muscles growing even more to remain proportional, even at 7’ 8’’ he looked like a massive bodybuilder with a dick of a gifted porn star. A true giant. “Oh yeah, now…” He said, in his voice which somehow got even more melodic, sexy. As he smiled down on them all, as they looked up in total awe, terror and desire. “This… this is gonna be fun.” /// Turned out a bit different than I thought it would, but hey.

PART TWO Adam heard the creaking of the floorboards and muffled bumps in the cabin, so he turned around and groggily got up. ‘It’s time for the race I guess.’ He said, looking at the clock on the other side of the room – squinting. ‘Wait. It’s… it’s 1:30… am.” He bent over the edge of his bed and looked down, discovering that Ben was gone. ‘Where’s he gone off to? What the… at this… hour?’ His thoughts were slow and jumbled, he got down, feeling the cold wooden floor with his feet – this woke him up a bit, as he walked to the window. “Hm?” He let out – as he took in what was happening outside. He saw Ben outside their cabin, on the floor in the middle of the night in nothing but his sneakers and boxers – doing pushups. He had flawless form, Adam was struck by the sight – as he saw a heaving mass that was Ben, push himself up and down and up and down again and again almost without effort. With a look of determination and curiosity, Ben was continuously pumping out pushup after pushup with amazing speed. Sure – he was athletic before, but this – he could never do this before. Thought Adam as he noticed Ben get up and look around. Adam ducked, hoping Ben wouldn’t see him peeking out the window – and he didn’t. Instead he just headed towards the main camp building. Adam quickly put on his jacket and shoes and followed him. ‘What’s he doing?’ He thought as he headed outside, seeing Ben already halfway to his destination, carried by long strides of his new powerful legs. ‘Hm, I guess if I had that kind of... er, power – I wouldn’t be sleeping either, would I?” He thought as Ben entered the main building, and Adam followed him closely. He already had an idea of where he might go. Adam headed inside and turned left – past the potion storage closet and entered – the gym. He slowly opened the doors and peeked inside. He saw Ben – standing in the cold room totally straight – in front of a barbell, loaded up with what he estimated to be at least 150 pounds. Ben’s large, meaty arms slowly gripped the metallic bar and he nodded to himself – standing above it. He prepared himself and – Adam saw how suddenly all his arm muscles exploded outward as he began to lift up the barbell – doing curls with it. His muscles tensed and he held a grin on his face looking down on himself in awe, as he saw his biceps swell each time he brought up the barbell, exploding with new power, and after about twenty repetitions he simply let go of the weights as they fell onto the ground with a large CLANG. He immediately raised his arms into a double bicep pose, looking at them, smiling – not quite believing how large they were and how strong he was – and yet he loved it immensely. Then, he came over to the squat rack and loaded it up and began to lower himself with the weights resting on him, as his thighs strained his boxers more, only outlining his new and engorged cock, his butt flexed into two perfect globes - sticking out. After a while, Adam snapped out of this trance-like state that his friend’s work out had put him in, as he saw Ben finish yet another exercise. Then, Ben lay down on the floor and began doing sit ups with amazing speed and ease, his abs forming into a firm and solid six-pack, he simply smiled at it – as he stopped, gazing at his new and amazing body. Adam saw as Ben got up again, flexing in various poses, making his full and strong muscles pop out, displaying his body in all it’s new glory. Then, he felt something in his crotch as he saw this young specimen of physical perfection – a boner grew steadily in his pants. He reached down, a bit surprised, yet he didn’t take his eyes off Ben, who was still admiring his own body, perhaps as much as Adam did. Adam stroked his penis through his pajama pants, feeling his balls churn with lust – ready to explode. Then – Ben laughed loudly, and turned around. Adam almost gasped as he saw Ben looking down on his own meaty cock, which has grown so much – fully erect under his boxers – the whole 10 inches of it. But, Ben simply put his hands on his hips still grinning widely, as he tilted his head back and grunted, his penis responding and with it’s strength tearing through the boxer’s fabric, freeing itself and standing proud, long and thick. Adam blew his load in total disbelief – as he stumbled back in anxiety and total relief and pleasure, as he hid behind the doors, as Ben got out and went to the mess hall. Adam followed him, half-limping feeling the cool air of the night, as he – with his mouth agape – reached the mess hall as well. He saw Ben take two whole cooked chickens from the fridge, and he sat down at the table, well – he saw him squeeze himself between the bench and table, into the uncomfortably narrow space for the new, bigger him. Then, he proceeded to eat, and eat, and eat, smiling – occasionally flexing his muscles with glee as he consumed one chicken, then the other, then – he got up and got even more food. Adam was filled with lust and anger and fear – as he snuck – slowly away, going back to their cabin, hardly believing what he just saw - his athletic young friend, turned into a tall, buff unstoppable force. He went to sleep later that night, his mind still recovering the images of the night. *** Adam woke up and got ready for the day – he exited the cabin, noticing that Ben wasn’t there. He ate breakfast on the start line – seeing that he had arrived fairly early. Then, after a while others started coming, some were talking about Ben and his muscles, wishing they could have the same. He smiled, knowingly. Then a large man exited from the main hall of the camp – Ben. ‘Wait…’ Adam thought as ben approached him with a smile. ‘Is he…” “Hey Adam.” Ben said, and tapped him lightly on the shoulder with his giant hand. “B- Ben? Are you… I could have sworn you were… a bit smaller yesterday.” Adam responded, remembering the previous night. “Huh…” Ben began. “Turns out – I can now even grow faster than before. Man – this feels SO good.” ‘Hopefully not too good.’ Adam thought, and then he reminded Ben of their deal from yesterday, Ben remembered and promised he would help him win today. Adam quickly suppressed the thoughts of himself growing bigger and bigger like Ben – as the voice came once more from the speakers. “All previous winners – must give a five minute head start to other competitors.” It was concise and eerie, just as they were used to. Ben just smirked. “Heh, won’t help you much – I’ll tell you that.” He said, looking down on the others that prepared for the race. “READY.” The voice came from the speakers again. “SET…” They prepared. “GO!” Suddenly, dozens of feet hit the ground running, as Ben watched them from behind, confidently. Adam once more trudged through the forest obstacles, as quickly as he could – running and jumping and ducking and crawling through the thick foliage and branches – over large stones and rivers. But, his motivation never waned – for he knew what awaited him at the end of it all. Once again he was all wet and tired – he was closer to the finish, when he noticed two others go in front of him. ‘Damn…’ He thought. ‘I should have gotten some more sleep last night.’ He saw them recede before him into the woods, as he was left behind, when – from behind him, he heard thundering foot steppes, and breaking twigs and rustling leaves – like a train heading straight for him. ‘B-‘ He couldn’t even finish his thought, when a giant, meaty arm picked him up and placed him under Ben’s armpit. He expected to smell old horrid sweat – but, instead the smell was musky, earthy… sexy… somehow. He inhaled it deeply as he bobbed up and down, in awe of Ben’s speed and strength. He saw it – he saw the end – the crystal and he saw that… Ben… wasn’t… stopping. He tried, but even he didn’t realize how much speed and strength the absorption of the crystal coupled with his last night exercise had given him. They both went straight by all the others and right through the crystal and – SLAM! They hit the tree on the other side of it. *** Adam got up – a bit dizzy but fine, he looked around to find Ben, and he did –Ben stood right behind him. Then, Adam turned around at himself again, looking down. There was something… different. He felt something tighten around his calves, and he saw the cuffs of his pants ride up, as they exposed more and more of his lower legs. His eyes went wide as he felt himself elongate more and more, he was six feet tall now – he was sure of it. He looked at his skinny, tall body, and felt something in his crotch – a tightening feeling. Then, he looked at his legs again, his calves widened more and more, his thighs filled out his pants, completely making them tight and thin, leaving very little to the imagination. For the first time in his life he looked at his legs and saw – instead of two slim twigs – two solid, muscular manly legs with budging muscle moving underneath his pants. He diverted his gaze to his arms, as he flexed them both – seeing his biceps and triceps grow and swell to the size of baseballs, his forearms thickened with strength. All his body was covered in valleys and peaks of new muscle. He felt his shirt ride up, as he took it off hastily, revealing his broadening chest which had a pair of pecs – actual visible pectoral muscle that grew right in front of his eyes, right above his insanely cut six-pack. And it really DID feel amazing! He thought, as he saw his penis – fully erect, straining against his pants, sliding down against them, and still growing – bigger than ever. He was ecstatic – sure he wasn’t as big as Ben, but – he was sexy, built and hung li— His thoughts were interrupted by a deep, booming laugh that came from behind him. “Ben?” He said as he turned around – and he gasped in terror. “Oh… my… God…” He whispered as he saw Ben, looking up, high up at him. ‘God, he must be seven feet tall!’ This went through Adam’s mind, as he saw Ben’s shirt ripped across the middle by his huge, steel-hard chest. He casually ripped it off, as his dick did the same to his pants. One of his even bigger hands took the erect 12 inch monster and began to stroke it masterfully growling and chuckling with bestial pleasure, as he saw his large body strain against his clothes – growing even bigger. Calves destroying the cuffs of his pants, his glutes ripping apart the back of his pants, solid brick of muscle on his abdomen rippled as he jerked off sensually, slowly. His giant shoulders flexing, his arms taking on new, even greater size- his biceps developing, his forearms bursting with power, his impossibly wide, v-shaped back bending slightly as he experienced total joy. Adam stared, bewildered – even Ben’s face seemed much more handsome than before, with more pronounced features, his eyes deeper, more striking. This image, coupled with his own growth and by the swelling and flexing of Ben’s muscles caused by the slightest movement – made him experience for the first time, how his new, bigger cock ejaculated. Ben went on for about at least twenty more minutes of non stop stroking, faster and faster, grunting and moaning and chuckling deeply – until he blew his load, the biggest Adam had ever seen. Ben let out a terrifying and powerful, bellowing laugh as his every muscle flexed, and he stood on his toes with perfect balance, making him look even bigger somehow, as his cock exploded streams of cum, and he felt pure orgasmic ecstasy. Well, this is it. Finale is coming soon, oh by the way I do have a Deviantart page - just soupbacons.deviantart.com - I also post stories there, just... just so you know, in case you wanted to check it out? No? Just me...? Anyway, hope you like the story.

Hey, so - decided to actually post a story here. It's a fantasy camp setting ish one, and also my first one, so - hope you like it. *** PART ONE Ben and Adam stayed together in a cabin of Camp Newlake. It was the night before the camp race, the goal – to overcome the large natural obstacle course and reach the buff crystal at the end, which – they say will grant great powers to that who reaches it first. “So, there are three races –right?” Adam asked condescendingly, staring down at Ben from the top bed of their bunk bed. “Yeah. And?” Ben asked, a bit confused. “Well, here’s my plan. We run together tomorrow, against the other teams, and – I know that you’re probably the fastest man in the camp, you get to the crystal and wait. Wait for me, then give it to me when I get there. Then, I will absorb the crystal’s powers and the day after tomorrow – I’ll help you reach the crystal – and since I’ll have the crazy powers, I’ll surely get it no problem. Right? Sounds… good? Or… sane, at least?” Adam smiled down at Ben, expectedly as the other just looked off into the distance, and then – nodded. “Oh, yeah. Sure, I’ll do that. Er, can we go to sleep now?” “Sure Ben, we can go to sleep now, I was just checking if you understood my plan. You agree with it, right?” Adam said, laying down. “Sure, sure.” Ben responded, bending down to fit under Adam’s bed on top. He was a tall one, about six feet tall with pale brown hair and striking eyes. He was a real athlete back home, and it showed, Ben had quite a body on him – lean and tall, not very beefy though. Adam on the other hand was a bit shorter, only about 5’4’’, and was very skinny, the two became friends in the camp and stuck together all the time – although with Adam’s nerdyness and Ben’s Jock-y attitude – the two would probably never be friends back home and yet somehow, it worked out in the camp. Morning came, and the two eighteen year-olds started to prepare for the race. Ben stretched expertly, and Adam just tried to follow what Ben was doing, later they came out to the obstacle course. There were about 10 others there with them. They were all waiting for the race to begin, all looking at the loudspeakers mounted on a nearby pole. “Prepare… for the race.” The ethereal voice came from the speakers, as it always did, it was the camp faculty – they communicated exclusively through the speakers that were everywhere around the camp. It worked, somehow. After a while, the voice returned, everyone came to the big red line… “Ready…” It went on, as they got down. “Set….” They all rose, preparing intensely. “GO!” The voice shouted out the speakers, and all set off into the woods, the natural obstacles immediately became apparent, as they went through the dense vines, roots and branches. They had to crawl and swing and jump to get around. Most had a tough time, including Adam, yet he did surprisingly well, considering his actual physical condition. He saw Ben shoot through the woods, quickly disappearing out of sight. This put a smile on his face, and he went on even faster. The race took a good while, Adam, soaking wet in his own sweat and the various waters of the forest, finally made it to the crystal’s place. A grin spread widely across his face, as he saw Ben there, standing tall and straight, his chest heaving up and down as he took heavy, deep breaths – gazing at the crystal. “Oh… whooh, Ben – good. Good, there you are… now.” Then, he stopped, as he saw Ben’s arm reach out and touch the crystal lightly. Suddenly, a flash emerged from the thing and it disappeared completely, seemingly merging with Ben. “Wh- What…? Wait – WHAT?” Adam shouted, confused as he saw what happened before him. Ben looked down at his hands and feet, as he saw something strange happen to them. His fingers and feet slowly began to elongate and thicken, then – he saw the ground… moving? Yes, it was moving, slightly away from him, he was inching up in height unnaturally, stopping only when he reached about 6’4’’. Adam looked; mouth agape, at his friend’s new body, lean, sexy and tall, his shirt reaching only his belly button, revealing the slim stomach beneath. The cuffs of his pants rode up almost to his knees, and they seemed to cling tightly to his legs. Wait, his shoulders seemed wider too, stretching his shirt across his chest. No – he wasn’t done, slowly Ben brought down his new meaty hands down to his thighs as he felt them stir, his legs grew, this time outward – filling out his pants. Then, he noticed – this was actually happening to the rest of his body as well. He felt his chest rise up slightly, more and more as he looked down, seeing two slabs of meat develop on it – his lean athletic frame was slowly gaining mass, as his pecs formed underneath his shirt, he took it off. As he did, Adam noticed his new long arms thicken and flex large – softball sized biceps and thick forearms, then his gaze was diverted back to the man’s torso. Ben stood there, grinning as he saw his glistening body fill out with massive muscle, a cut six-pack forming underneath his large chest. He turned his back and struck a double bicep pose – as his whole back jumped out in a massive web of muscle. Then, they heard a rip. The seams on his pants gave way to his large curvy thighs; he turned around to face Adam again – looking down at his legs. They were filling the pants completely, his calves formed rips on the sides of the cuffs, they were large and cut like diamonds, jutting out of him like massive bunches of thick, steel-hard meat. “Oohoo…” Ben said, in a new, deeper voice which carried a strange sensual overtone with every sound he produced. “Would you look at that.” He said, smiling wickedly, as he stared at his new manhood. A large endowment strained the front of his pants, as it pushed against them – wishing to get out, free and hanging low. In fact, the whole top part of his pants was strained, not only by the front, but by the round and full cheeks of his newly formed bubble butt. “Oh my GOD! I feel… so… SO… STROOONG! RRGHH!” Ben let out a bestial growl, making the forest tremble, flexing every muscle on his body, making them all grow even bigger as he grinned down at them, then he relaxed them, making them smaller, then flexed them again back into their full strength. “Rrgh! Wait till’ the guys back home see THIS! We’ll see who’s gonna be the team captain NOW! HAHA!” He arched his back, tilted his head back and let out a deviant, full and loud laugh – the loudness fueled by his heaving, wide and massive chest – producing loud sound effortlessly with his new enlarged… everything. “Th--… this… this wasn’t a part of the plan!” Adam said, looking on at the laughing exemplar of physicality in front of him, then, he quickly licked his lips, as his eyes were glued to him, he felt something… something – he hadn’t felt before for Ben in that moment. Something which… surprised him. “Oh my…” He let out, quietly to himself, taken aback a bit by the whole situation. Ben and Adam returned to camp, where everyone had already gathered, once Ben collected the prize – the loudspeakers alerted everyone that the race was over, so everyone headed back to rest – immediately. Ben regaled Adam with the stories of how he just felt “Sooo… GREAT!” and “So fucking STROONG!” as they returned, and Adam, the whole way – hung his head and dejectedly stared down at the ground, half believing how Ben could have done this to him. But, that’s no matter – he… he had a plan. Still. When they returned, everyone saw Ben and suddenly everyone gathered around him. Ben noticed why, immediately, and began to flex for them without saying a word. Then, he heard the ooohs and aaahs come from the group as they looked up at this towering, buff man, smirking down at them. “Pretty neat huh?” He said, looking at his large, flexed bicep. “Wow, yeah – good on you man, there’s no way you’ll lose the race tomorrow.” Ben grunted quietly at himself, not taking his gaze off his bicep, turning his forearm slightly, and making it pop up in various ways. “Heh, yeah – I know.” He said cockily. “But like, there’s no reason not to try, right guys!” He looked down at them, as they stared up at him in half-awe. Adam went back to the cabin, totally defeated by the whole thing, while Ben stayed outside, chatting with everyone, letting them squeeze and touch his new big muscles, talking about how great it all feels, around the campfire at twilight. He returned to the cabin later, and found Adam laying on the top staring off into the ceiling. “Yo dude…” He began, suddenly realizing that he has maybe let down his friend. Adam simply turned towards him for a moment, his eyes widened involuntarily, but he quickly went back to staring at the ceiling. “Er… hey, so… I just… I just remembered what we were talking about er, yesterday. Huh, funny isn’t it – it er,… it kind of slipped my mind you see…” He began, apologetically, yet he couldn’t really help but glance at how his new large body fit more snugly everywhere, in the now smaller cabin. “Yeah. I know. I uh, I saw that. Yeah.” Adam stated, not turning around to face him. “Er, listen man – let me make it up to you.” “And how… are you planning to do that?” Now Adam turned to him, leaning on his elbow on his side, he saw Ben take off his shirt – getting ready for bed. ‘God – he’s built!’ A thought crossed Adam’s mind, and he felt a stir in his crotch. “Oh – I know, I’ll just let you get the crystal tomorrow! Yeah! We’ll be like – like, muscle buddies or something, right!” Ben said with a silly grin, wide-eyely staring at Adam, on whose face quickly formed a grin of his own, as he jumped down and went to hug Ben. ‘Oh my…’ Adam thought, as he hugged the rock hard mass of Ben’s abdomen. His face dug into the very bottom of Ben’s meaty pecs as Ben hugged him back with his huge arms, encompassing half his back in their mass in the process. ‘He’s built like a brick house!’ Adam thought as he felt the ridges of his abs rub against him and – and…. His cock. ‘Oh my God.’ He quickly tried to pull back – but couldn’t, Ben’s arms were locking him tight in a hug, Ben noticed this and let go, so he stood back. ‘He locked me in his grasp without even trying back there. Good God…’ “Really?” Adam snapped out of it – looking up at the new, taller, bigger Ben. “Really.” Ben said – and they both went to sleep – though Adam’s dreams were plagued with images of Ben growing – reliving the scenario of that day – it didn’t bother him as much as he expected. *** Well, that's the first part. Tell me what you think, and if you're actually thinking "I kinda like how this dude writes." Maybe tell me an idea for a story and maybe I'll write it, who knows - because this turned out to be much more fun than I thought.

Part 1 Thom was reluctant to go out to the club. His friends convinced him to join them and they had fun dancing for the first part of the night, but as they drank and began to find their fun for the evening, Thom settled by the bar with his cranberry juice. He was handsome and kept in shape, despite turning 30 before the rest of his friends. He was beginning to realize that he was more attractive than he gave himself credit for, but his shy, quiet demeanor often meant guys never quite came up to talk to him. He was startled to notice that one guy kept staring his way. He was young, shirtless and hot, in jeans tight around his muscular legs and wearing a wide silver chain around his neck. The chain draped over wide, solid pecs that got Thom's heart racing. His arms were meaty and veined and his six-pack might actually be an eight-pack. He wasn't dancing with anyone in particular and for the moment, Thom felt like he was dancing with him. Thom looked away, quickly assuming that the guy was just teasing and finding that a bit cruel. Then he felt two hands gently brush over the top his back and start massaging him. It felt electric, and Thom almost thought the club fell silent as he gasped at the sensual touch. "Hey," a low voice growled in Thom's ear, "I'm Gabriel." Thom turned around and the guy was even more impressive up close, with a sheen of sweat sizzling off his skin. "I'm Thom," Thom heard himself yell above the music. Gabriel spoke next. "I don't usually do this, but do you want to come home with me? I want to show you something." Thom looked at Gabriel doubtfully, but Gabriel had this cute, child-like, hopeful look in his eye that seemed inconsistent with the hot stud that was there a second ago, and was even more irresistable and contagious. Thom couldn't help but laugh, "okay." Gabriel wrapped one arm around Thom, saying "I love your laugh," and Thom felt like he was carried out by Gabriel's side, because he never felt his legs touch the ground, until outside the club he realized he was walking, but he and Gabriel were in synchronized rhythm, with each other's hands on each other's backs. Thom only then noticed that Gabriel had a shirt back on, but his athletic build was still obvious. As Thom was led through the city streets, he and Gabriel talked. Thom was surprised that Gabriel... "Actually, you can call me Gabe," he clarified. ...that Gabe was actually a year older then him, but as Gabe described his many travels through Asia and Africa and Iceland and Peru, Thom became surprised he wasn't older. Thom's story sounded boring to himself in comparision, but Gabe asked the most interesting questions that made it seem like a series of adventures to rival his. Thom had only a vague idea of where they were when Gabe led them up steps to a tall, narrow brownstone rowhouse. A brown, fluffy cat greeted them with a "meow" at the door. "Hi Charles," Gabe greeted the cat. "This is Thom. What do you think of him?" Charles pranced over to Thom and began rubbing against Thom's legs, purring. Thom had next to no experience with cats, but he had always heard they were more aloof. "Oh, gods, I hope you're not allergic. Please tell me if you are," Gabe gasped with a genuinely worried look in his eyes. "I don't think so," replied Thom. Gabe sighed with relief. "Ok, Charles, that's enough. Daddy's getting jealous," Gabe growled and he led Thom up two flights of stairs. The stairs opened up to a top floor that was all one spacious room. Thom had never seen anything like it, and he marveled at it. In the center of the room was the biggest four-poster bed he had ever seen or imagined. In one corner was the biggest bathtub he had ever seen that could easily fit five people. It looked almost industrial except for the unlit candles around it and the potted tall grasses behind it. Another corner held the smallest library he had ever seen. A handful of bookcases against the wall and standing out marking a few 4-foot long, narrow aisles were overstuffed with books, a few of which were stacked or open on the ground. As he moved his head, Thom's eyes caught thin lines and curves and shapes of different colors criss-crossing the room's walls and ceiling and floor. The lines seemed to have no pattern, but they danced around the room and trying to follow them gave Thom a giddy dizziness. Thom peered around and saw another corner that had a simple, crisp white sheet laid out with smooth pebbles packed along the edges. As the lights dimmed, Thom realized that the other corner was dominated by a gigantic sloped window that skewed the otherwise regular shape of the room and looked out to the city, but mostly to the stars. "This room is amazing," Thom sputtered out in awe. "I'm glad you like it, but it's not really what I want to show you," Gabe called out. Thom refocused on Gabe, shirtless again and without the chain, kneeling on the bed which had a light on it that dimmed less than in the rest of the room. Thom felt awkward and a bit inadequate walking over to the edge of bed, as Gabe added, "And I want you to show me a few things, too." Thom wasn't sure if he was supposed to attempt a strip tease, but he just unbuttoned his shirt and then took off his t-shirt, and he was encouraged by the soft but yearning look in Gabe's eyes. "How about I take your pants off, and then you take mine off in the same way?" Gabe asked. "Okay," Thom replied as he wondered how many different ways there were to take pants off. Gabe sat on the edge of the bed, his legs on either side of Thom, and began to caress the sides of his waist. Thom realized he had never had his pants taken off this way. The touch was electric, like at the club. Gabe played with the waist band, teasing with his fingertips. He then unbuttoned the fly, quickly popping each button off, but pausing in between to let those electric fingertips wander over Thom's waist and abdomen. Thom closed his eyes and moaned. "That's it," Gabe encouraged. After the last button, Gabe's electric fingers scampered up to Thom's nipple and both of them gasped. Thom opened his eyes to see Gabe grinning widely. "You are electric," Gabe said. "I don't know how much foreplay we can handle, so let's move along." And Gabe roughly shoved Thom's pants down as he slid from the bed, and slipped the pants off each of Thom's feet, and then extended his own crotch towards Thom. Thom tried to exactly repeat Gabe's caress and flair at first, but he began to close his eyes and lose himself in the gentle pull and flow and rhythm of playing with Gabe's torso like conducting a sweet symphony. "Oh, gods, you must have done this before!" Gabe gasped. Thom opened his eyes to contradict Gabe, and was shocked at Gabe's frantic panting and clenched grip on the bed. Did I do that? Thom asked himself. "Yes," Gabe said. "I think we should move along." Thom took that as his cue to pull Gabe's pants off and he revealed a bulging jock strap. It took a couple pulls to get the jeans past Gabe's meaty legs, and Thom couldn't resist massaging his muscular quads. He felt them flex as Gabe hopped back onto the edge of the bed and kicked the jeans off. "Take those off," Gabe ordered, indicating Thom's briefs. Thom obeyed as Gabe shifted onto the bed big enough for six. After Thom tossed his briefs and socks onto his pants he looked back at Gabe who was standing on the bed completely naked and motioning Thom to join him. Thom wondered at the bed that was firm as a platform but soft as a cloud and covered in what might have been a comforter, or the sheets, or just the mattress itself. He also caught a scent of eucalyptus or lemongrass with a touch of citrus that seemed to be released from the bed with each step and tingled up through Thom's brain. Just before he reached him, Gabe said, "If this gets too much, tell me. Up to a point, we can just stop, but after that it gets tricky." Thom nodded and Gabe closed his eyes and put his hands back on Thom with a sensual jolt that caused both of their dicks to twitch. Thom returned the favor, feeling over Gabe's taut shoulders and arms, his flexing chest, reaching over his thick back and hitting the shelf of his bubble butt. Thom also felt Gabe's hands over his own body, tingling and relaxing his own smaller muscles. Gabe knelt down and lapped at Thom's dick and balls before applying soft suction that quickly inflated and hardened Thom's dick. Thom watched Gabe's shoulders flex and ripple and felt Gabe's hands caress the back of his legs until they were tingling over his ass and then teasing his asshole and brushing against the back of his balls. After what felt like a couple minutes, Gabe slowly withdrew his mouth from Thom's dick with a quick kiss and stood up, Gabe's hard dick slapping under Thom's balls. Gabe was slightly taller, Thom noticed, as they leaned in for their first kiss. Thom was surprised at how good it tasted. Is that me or him? Thom wondered. Thom prided himself on being a good kisser, despite the lack of regular practice, and Gabe matched his skill as their tongues danced and played like old friends and their hands pressed against each other's backs and pressed their warming bodies together. Thom felt Gabe's hard, pulsing dick and took his turn kneeling down. Gabe tasted amazing, sweet and musky with a slight, exciting tang. Thom usually enjoyed sucking on a healthy cock, but the taste, smell and shape of Gabe as he filled his mouth was inexplicably driving him crazy with delight. Thom wasn't just using his head and mouth, but his whole body undulated and danced around and over Gabe's pole. Gabe's breathing shifted a few times between groaning and panting and a kind of chanting, that just excited Thom even more. "Gods!" Gabe finally exclaimed. "I'm a little scared that fucking you will actually blow my brains apart. Or do you want to give a go at my ass the way you're working my cock?" Thom looked at Gabe's throbbing member. "I want that inside me," he replied. Somehow, Gabe reached over to one of the posts of the bed and immediately held lube and a condom. Thom look bewildered. "That was just my first trick," Gabe winked, as he got his dick ready. Next he pressed on the bed in various spots and told Thom, "Lay down around here and I'll shift you into position." Thom was suprised that the bed felt lumpy, but after a couple tugs from Gabe, Thom felt like he was relaxing in a hammock and aiming his ass at the large window of stars before Gabe's knees seemed to sink a few inches into the bed in front of him. "I've studied a number of ancient practices," Gabe began to explain, "and we're going to have a bit of an adventure. You can follow and explore as much as you like, but if you start feeling overwhelmed or scared or in danger, just cum, but the further we go, the more you'll need to focus on cumming to make it happen. I know it doesn't make much sense now, but I need you to remember that, okay?" "Okay," Thom replied, feeling a bit hesitant, but more curious. "Out of curiosity," Gabe wondered, "what's something about me that you wish was yours?" "Your body," Thom said, without hesitation. Gabe grinned as he spread his arms and asked, "what about my body?" "It's so hot... masculine... I guess the hard muscles of it." "Do you wish I had even bigger muscles? You can be honest." Thom blushed. "I've fantasized about guys with huge muscles." "Huge, eh? And do you wish you had huge muscles?" "Yeah, I do," Thom replied, surprised that he felt so comfortable sharing a fantasy he had so long kept secret. "Well, then, let's make make this a good workout," Gabe said as his eyes sparkled like the stars behind him.

Once upon a time in a village near a town near a castle... Walt didn't entirely mind watching his three step-brothers working out in the well-equipped barn. They were well-muscled and strong, biggest in the village. He might have even admired the work they put into pumping their muscles and gotten excited at watching them pose and flex afterwards, if he didn't have to dread the constant teasing and abuse they gave him. "Hey, waterboy, I'm thirsty," called the eldest. Walt hung his head down as he carried the stein of water over for him to chug before he belched up at Walt's face. "Show me your arm," he ordered. Except for being almost 7 feet tall, Walt looked fairly malnourished. He was at least a foot taller than his step brothers, but when the eldest's 19-inch arms of muscle flexed next to his 10-inch arms of skin and bones, he felt so small. "You're so skinny, you need to eat like us," laughed the middle step-brother, but they never left him much food at meals. "How'd you only grow up tall, but never out big like us?" asked the youngest, who was the same age as Walt. The eldest slapped his head whenever he accidentally pointed out Walt's height. It was the one thing they were jealous of. Walt's step-mother constantly praised her sons and always joined in teasing Walt. What Walt didn't realize was that his face was as handsome as his father's was, and her heart ached everytime she laid eyes on him. She also married Walt's father for the bit of magic that Walt's family possessed. The townsfolk whispered that was how her sons grew so big. They also whispered darker notions about how Walt's mother and then father died. Weightlifting and bodybuilding were local pastimes. Nearly every boy and most girls started training on their fifteenth birthday, and even the elders kept in virile shape. With the large number of eager and able farm workers and smiths, the kingdom was quite prosperous. Walt was one of those exceptions, despite having the tall frame that could potentially carry more muscle than anyone else. Well, everyone but the prince. Everyone knew the prince had been blessed by magic as a child to grow muscle, but he also trained as hard as anyone else, and now at 25 years old, his 6'4", 450-pound body was a wonder to behold, and nobody wished it wasn't there to behold. His face was also sexy as hell, whether shaven clean or with a light scruff. About half of the kingdom were certain that the magic, in exchange for the muscle and beauty, had cursed the prince with homosexuality. That is, the female half thought of it as a curse. Most of the male half thought him all the luckier, or considered themselves lucky to have a chance at bedding him. Either way, most folk had at least one picture of the prince on display in their homes for motivation, and at least one good dream of him with the appropriate sexual appetite. Walt's stepmother didn't allow him to have a picture in his room. "You'll just have that old mirror to remind you how skinny you are," she said with a cackle. Fortunately, she didn't realize it was a magic mirror. Walt wasn't sure how it worked, but it often showed him the prince. He was riding a horse, or lifting logs, or taking a bath, or playing with puppies. It was like a one-way, visual-pen-pal relationship, like a middle-ages reality show. The mirror also sometimes showed someone else, as beautiful as the prince but with even larger muscles. It took years before Walt realized the face was similar to his, because he otherwise never saw himself with such a large smile. After the spring harvest, the Prince held his annual bodybuilding competition. Everyone had been preparing for it for months, or longer, either by training hard, arranging the judges and decorations, planning the following feast, or just fantasizing about seeing the prince up close and nearly naked as the guest poser. Walt's step-brothers constantly ordered him around to bring water, cook food, and do the lighter chores they had no time for. "Hey, waterboy." "Hey, skinny." "Hey, skinny waterboy." In private, Walt marveled at their limited vocabulary and wished he had a grain of wheat for everytime he heard either of those words. Still, Walt couldn't help catching some of the excitement from the whole kingdom anxiously anticipating the event. The prince himself always had mixed feelings about the competition. He enjoyed showing off his massive body and inspiring another diligent and productive year of training, but his yearning for a partner to stand on stage with him and to come home with afterwards grew each year. There were plenty of muscular suitors, and some were passably handsome, but the prince had dreamt of a boy with jade eyes and jet black hair and fair, freckled skin that got him instantly hard and motivated some of his best workouts. And it didn't matter to the prince whether the young man had muscles, or not. The prince realized in his teens that drinking a full load of his cum could make someone instantly as big as him. His first knight Gabriel was the product of that first experience and after Sir Gabriel won the competition one year, the prince made him a permanent judge. Gabriel was even more pleased by that promotion than the win, since many guys thought to sway his vote by pleasuring him enthusiastically. The day of the competition was Walt's 21st birthday. He would have forgotten it like most of the ones before, but a large pink package laid at the base of the mirror when he awoke. He was baffled as to how it got there. His step-family had been so focused on the competition and ran him ragged with chores and errands. They wouldn't have wasted a second on delivering anything. The card read, "Happy birthday, from Aunt Fay," but Walt knew of no living relatives. Inside the box was a large, parchment-thin garment that was nearly the same color as his skin. It was almost like silk, but it stretched. I cetainly didn't need to stretch, Walt thought. It could be a tablecloth for a banquet table. After spreading it out over his bed, he recognized the arms, legs and neck hole and open seam down the front. He thought about trying it on when he heard footsteps on the stairs to his attic room. He shoved the large body suit under his lumpy mattress, but the box was still out when his step-mother walked in the room. "What's this?" she asked. Walt didn't answer as she examined the box. "Such a large box for such a small gift. But it's pretty," she noted as she drew a gold ear cuff out of the box. She moved towards the mirror to try it on, but she had difficulty getting it to stay. "Well, I guess you can have it," she said as she tossed it back in the box and dropped the box to the floor. "We're off to the competition, but we don't want you embarrassing us, so you'll stay here," she snapped as she left. Walt was probably the only person in the kingdom who couldn't remember ever going to the annual event. Walt found the jewelry in the box and it was a twisted 3-braided ring that sparkled more than gold should, like there was diamonds inside of it, and it almost seemed like the braids hid writing of some sort. Walt tried it on and looked in the mirror. There wasn't much light in his room, but the cuff and his green eyes seemed to sparkle together like morning dew, and his skin had a faint moonlight glow. He couldn't help but smile as he imagined his parents watching him proudly in this quiet moment. He knew he was looking at the face of the man that the mirror sometimes showed him, but he also now knew with certainty it matched his. He got the body suit out and had a suspicion of its purpose. As he got his feet through the bottom holes, he saw them change. He always had large feet, "flippers," his step-brothers called them sometimes, but they were losing that description as they became thick and strong. His calves inflated next, like fruit plumping on the vine, but soon the whole lower leg also thickened and stretched against the fabric that could have fit around his waist. As he held the narrowest part of the body suit around his waist, his legs filled with rock-heavy muscle. He could barely believe it as they grew way past the size of his eldest step-brother and made him shift his stance a few times. He looked in the mirror and saw that each leg was easily wider and thicker than his chest, and his ass was like two juicy melons that flexed into a hard shelf of muscle. He adjusted his posture as he felt his abs and back tighten and strengthen. The fabric also seemed to tighten as it shrink-wrapped out of his hands and against hard cobblestones. The front seam started coming together on its own and disappearing into the center line of his abs. He slipped his arms into the sleeves and felt his forearms bulge into thick hams of muscle. His hands also thickened into meaty paws and his upper arms swelled to at least two feet around, maybe almost three feet around. He felt the odd, but not painful, sensation of bones shifting as he brought the body suit up to his neck and his back and shoulders had their turn to grow. While his god-like thighs gave him a feeling of immeasurable power and strength and the shape of his arms was a perfection of beauty, they were simply preludes to his chest and back and shoulders all growing together and turning him into the god-monster he had seen in the mirror. A creature even bigger than the prince, bigger than anyone had ever been. His shoulders looked like extra heads, and his back bulged wide, forcing his arms to spread out and make him look even bigger. As the front seam magically closed itself, his pecs plumped even larger and Walt felt their huge mass with his paw. "These are big enough to hide a chicken," Walt marveled. His neck and traps thickened next as the magic continued its final adjustments. His face retained its beauty, but became more muscular and more masculine and Walt gasped as he looked over the perfection that was his body. He flexed a few poses and felt his nipples tingle and harden as the fabric moved over them, but then felt his dick do the same. Walt had been decently endowed, 6 inches long when soft, but also skinny. Now it thickened, and also lengthened. As Walt moaned with pleasure, his cock expanded into a hard, foot-long log of a cock and kept pulsing larger. His balls also grew and filled with testosterone-laden cream. As his cock inched up his abs under the fabric, Walt grunted. When the sensitive, apple-sized head started forcing its way between his pecs, Walt came like a fireworks finale and passed out from the ecstasy. Walt awoke to a few rays of sunlight hitting his face. He basked in the memory of a most amazing dream, but the huge hand that came over his face scared him fully awake before he realized it was his own hand coming to rub his eyes. It took a couple of tries for him to find his balance and stand up, but he knew he'd see his dream body in the mirror and that it was a true reflection of what he now possessed. While his package still bulged, it wasn't the obscene tool it could perhaps become again. Also, any mess that he had made in the suit was gone. He was disappointed when he tugged apart the front seam and felt his chest shrink slightly. The suit's magic was not permanent, he realized, but letting it reseal brought his pecs back to their full glory. While technically the suit covered him, it was close enough to his skin color that he looked naked. The only place he had a chance of finding something that fit him was his step-brother's room. After taking care through the house with his wider frame, he reached the eldest's room and found a tunic with open sides and a kilt that he had to wear lower than custom to cover most of his thighs. It was an outfit that was common among the powerlifters, but his vascularity and size and perfect muscle belly shape proved he wasn't just strong, but huge and beautiful. As he stepped outside, an old woman scolded him. "C'mon, or you'll miss the whole thing!" And she waved him into her cart and handed him a pair of what resembled shoes. "Thanks for the ride," he said puzzled. The "shoes" were like a warped bowl of leather with laces, but they fit well over his feet. He was also grateful that the back of the cart was big and sturdy enough to hold him and that she had four horses pulling them. The smell of either the cart or her could have been better, though. The competition rotated around the towns of the kingdom and this year it was in a town fairly close to Walt's village. In about an hour, they made their way through the crowd that gathered at the town's outskirts. The town was crowded with muscular people, but most people stopped to stare or point at Walt. Finally, the cart stopped and the old woman shouted, "That's it! This is as far as I go." Walt got out and walked over to the woman. With him standing on the ground, and her sitting up in the cart, they were eye-level. "Thank you again. Can I do anything in exchange?" He asked. "You may look like one of them, but you're still one of you," she replied before pointing at the town wall. "Go through there and remember that, and that'll be payment enough." Overall, the area around the wall roared with activity, but it seemed like everyone around Walt fell silent or whispered. The wall gate was open to all, but he entered nervously as the large, beefy guards stared bug-eyed at him. The main thoroughfare led directly to the town center were a raised stage dominated the square. While outside of the wall it was crowded, inside it was packed. As usual, he could see over everyone's head, which had always made finding market stalls easier, but it was odd moving through the crowd without getting shoved around. He could just pick a direction and go. "Hey, kid!" someone yelled behind him. Walt turned to see an older, built guy with a cane. "I didn't see you at pre-judging. Did you just get here?" he asked. "Yeah," Walt admitted. "Look, you obviously could win this whole thing. You should compete. C'mon, follow me," he ordered. Walt followed him to the side of the stage where judges and officials gathered. Walt loved his new body and the chance to see the competition, and the prince in person, but he wasn't sure he wanted the attention of performing and his step-brothers worked for weeks on a posing routine, which Walt did not have. Also, he'd be back to skinny as soon as he took off the body suit. The man spoke to the officials, gesturing wildly and near to yelling, but Walt inched away enough that he didn't quite hear what the man was saying. He was about to turn around and run when he man came back over. "You missed registration and weigh-in, so they're not letting you compete, but I say you just jump on up there and show them what you got and they'd have to give you the trophy." Walt hesistated in his response, so the the man yelled at the crowd around them, "Hey, folks, do you think this guy is bigger than anything you've seen?" Walt was surprised and a bit scared, when the crowd yelled back enthusiastically, "Yeah!" "Do you think this guy could win by just walking up on stage right now?" Even more people replied even louder, "Yeah!" "Let's get him up there!" another man yelled, and the crowd closed around Walt as he began to panic. Nobody alone could move Walt anywhere he didn't want to go, but he didn't want to hurt any of them, so between everyone's efforts, Walt drifted along the side of the stage, past the officials and finally escaped into less crowded streets. Once he picked up some speed, he left the mob behind and took a few turns until he was lost, but he still heard people yelling from the direction he came. Then, he hit an empty dead end with an archway on the side blocked by vertical bars. The bars were too close for a normal person to fit through, and Walt was reluctant to just break them off. He had no doubt that he could have bent and broken the inch-thick bars with a bit of time, but then another idea occured to him. Under the tunic, he slipped off the body suit. Rather than feel the shrinking of his muscles, his upper body returned to skin and bone like the sun clearing the last bit of fog. He shoved the fabric down his waist inside the kilt and as his calves became sticks, the body suit easily slipped off and he slipped between the bars into a flowering courtyard. He marveled at the array of colors and scents that assaulted him like the kisses of a mother he never knew. Despite the panic of a few minutes ago, or perhaps because of it, he began to laugh for the first time in a long time. "Beautiful, isn't it?" a kind voice said behind him. After Walt turned to face the source of that voice, he replied, "Oh, gods, yes!" But Walt was no longer talking about the courtyard, but about the prince standing shirtless with the sun glistening over the moist, flushed skin stretched tight over massive, pumped muscle. Walt felt his blood rush to his dick and all he could see was the prince's face as it changed from smiling to frowning. Walt didn't realize he was passing out. The next thing he knew, that gorgeous face was right in front of him and he felt soft boulders wrapped around him. Walt gasped, "Prince Carmine!" "Yes, and who might you be?" the prince asked. As Walt took a few seconds to remember his name, they were interrupted by a cough. "Will, it's past time to go," the other voice said. "Gabe, but I think...," but the prince hesitated to finish. "Whoever you are, stay here. Please," he begged. Walt began to feel overwhelmed and confused, but he nodded. The prince helped Walt sit on a stone bench and placed the strange bundle of fabric at Walt's side, before leaving with his friend. It was still a sunny day, but Walt felt a chill after the prince left. He wasn't sure where he was, or when or if the prince would return, and he considered the possibility that he was in trouble for trespassing. As far as he could tell, nobody watched him, so he slowly backed over to the barred archway and slipped back through. The tunic was now more like a dress on him, and the even at its tightest, the kilt slipped down Walt's narrow hips and flat butt as he walked. As he slipped the body suit back on, he wondered why he needed any other reason besides the gigantic muscles reforming on him to wear the magical garment. He knew the way back home was through the familiar wall gate, but the only clear landmark to find the main boulevard was the cheering and shouting that indicated the final judging was in progress at the stage. As he walked through the edges of the crowd, he occasionally got the encouragement to step onto the stage. "You should be up there, not that asshole." "Why aren't you up there? You're way bigger." "Hey! Where'd you go? I got a posing suit for you!" Walt recognized that last shout as coming from the same man with a cane. Moments later, the man stood in front of him with a piece of cloth. "C'mon folks, let's cheer him on. He's a shy guy, but he can really give us a show, unlike the little prick on stage!" People started playfully grabbing at Walt's clothes so he moved away. Unforunately, the easiest way to do that was to move away from the shops of the square and into the open area in front of the stage. The man followed and stirred up even more of the crowd that smiled and yelled encouragingly at Walt. Nearly half the crowd was chanting, "Shy monster on the stage!" Before the officials paused the posing to yell out, "What's going on back there?" It wasn't until then that Walt looked at who was on stage. It was his eldest step-brother who stared back at him, angry at first, then puzzled. Walt realized he was wearing his brother's clothes and if his brother noticed his unusual green eyes, his identity might not be a secret anymore, and he wasn't sure what that would mean. The youngest step-brother entered the circle that cleared around Walt. "Hey, Who...are...wow," he managed as he joined the admirers. The middle step-brother followed a moment later, but was more angry than impressed. "There's a show on the stage, so stop your shouting!" He looked at Walt and asked, "Do I know you?" Walt felt that his time was up. The charade was over. He turned to run over and through whatever he needed to in order to get away, and maybe back home or even farther away, but as he did, the middle step-brother grabbed his shoulder. Well, he grabbed the shoulder of the body suit, and the sleeve tore off. The crowd gasped as they saw the massive leg-sized arm become a series of sticks. Walt looked at the crowd's hurt faces, at his middle step-brother whose surprise was slowly turning to anger, at the eldest on stage who began to grin with schadenfreude, and then at the prince. Walt's gut wrenched as he saw the prince standing on stage looking so sad, possibly crying! From that moment in the courtyard, Walt knew he loved the prince, not as the picture of ultimate masculinity, but as a culmination of all the kind and honest and thoughtful things he saw in his mirror over the years. Meeting him in person confirmed all that to be true. Walt knew he would catch the prince's eye with his new body, but it was false, an illusion, and in the look of the prince's disappointment, Walt lost all hope of happiness. With tear-streaked vision, he ran. His powerful legs propelled him quickly down the thoroughfare, through the gate, down the road he came from. The only hope he had for consolation was the mirror that might again provide glimpses of his true love. Walt asked it, begged it to reveal the prince, but it only reflected his imbalanced body. Walt threw the body suit into the box and used all his strength to throw the whole thing at the mirror. The mirror simply swallowed it up and faded it away. Walt collapsed on his mattress and cried himself to sleep. The two older step-brothers thought they recognized Walt's face and skinny arm, but they still had a tough time convincing themselves that the two most different people in the world were the same person. The youngest brother didn't quite understand why they didn't want to talk about the massive guy in the square. Everyone, of course, realized that the "shy monster" had used magic, or was under a spell, or that maybe the middle brother cursed the big guy's arm. But they still couldn't get over how big he was, and handsome, and like with the prince, the magical source did little to temper their awe. Lacking their prefered winner, they celebrated the eldest brother's overall title, but he still felt a bit short-changed, especially since the prince declined to entertain him at the palace. The prince was familiar enough with magic that the quickly connected the adorable, tall boy in the courtyard with the sexy hulk in the square and he felt sorry that the boy felt he had to use magic, and sorry that it failed and left him feeling a fraud. The prince so wanted to hold him again in his arms and comfort him, and wished he hadn't fled so impressively fast. The middle brother was left with a beige sleeve, but its magic was gone, or dormant. After the prince asked for it, he spent the post-competition celebrations crafting a divining spell with it to locate the residence of its previous owner. After the second day, he set off with a crystal's glow to guide him and cloaked himself in the illusion of a traveler. While the celebration of the competition usually lasted a few days, the eldest brother felt like the excitement was waning and thought he might be more honored back in his home village, even though nobody much liked him there. If that huge guy that interrupted his show was Walt, or a relative of Walt's, he thought, maybe something that would make me huge as well was waiting back at home. His mother was enjoying herself in the celebrations, but when he started pouting, she relented. Walt work up the morning after the competition and did some basic chores. He walked around the village, but could not find the old woman who gave him a ride. He checked the mirror several times for a glimpse of the prince, or a reappearance of the pink-wrapped box. That night he dreamt of the prince wading through dark water and holding a soft, rosy light that hummed a lullaby. After Walt got cleaned and dressed, a messenger boy showed up at the door. "The lady is on her way," he announced with his hand out. Walt paid him and rushed to get everything in order. From her son's stories, it was unclear what they would find. She was flirting with a judge and never got a good view at all the commotion, but they seemed to think Walt was there. As ever, one way or another, she was ready to be disappointed. As they approached, Walt came out looking as pathetic as usual offered them water. Her older sons glared at him before chugging their drink and showing off how light their cases were in their arms and then fighting over who could carry the most cases. As they headed into the house, Walt meekly led the coach and horses to the stable yard and she felt that everything was normal. There wasn't enough food for a feast and Walt got blamed for that. The older brothers waited for some confirmation from Walt that he was at the competition, but if they could pretend that Walt was always the skinny waterboy, that was fine with them. They each smacked the youngest when he started telling Walt about the surprise giant and the older brothers caught no visible reaction from Walt to its mentioning. That night, Walt's step-mother returned to his room. "Where did that pretty box go?" she asked. "I threw it out," he replied. "And you're not wearing that ear thing," she noticed. "Can I keep it, please," Walt begged. "Of course you can. Isn't your birthday coming up?" she asked but didn't wait for a reply before she headed back down. Walt stared at the mirror, hoping to see his prince, and he thought he caught a faint pink glow, but it was soon late enough that he fell asleep. He woke up and found the pink box again by the mirror, but it was much bigger this time. He went to open it, but the top popped off and there stood his eldest step-brother, wearing the body suit draped over him like a monk's robe. Walt heard his insides scream, "No!" as he saw the body suit's magic start to work. This time, it also stretched his step-brother taller and taller as his muscles grew to fill the suit, a massive mountain of bulging muscle, but it didn't stop. His step-brother soon erupted through the roof and as he jumped to the ground outside, he grew as big as the house. He roared as the body suit truly disappeared and his step-brother was a naked giant of a monster bodybuilder. "Now to give that prince some payback for ignoring me," he roared as his voice shook the house. Walt could hear the prince's voice in the distance, "I'm coming, Walt!" Walt woke up screaming, "No!" He realized it was a dream and cried from both relief and sorrow, because his prince wasn't coming and even if he was, he'd only find the thief from the garden. The prince's crystal brought him to Walt's village and its growing brightness encouraged him. He wound his way to a fine but older-style house and knocked on the door. They were having breakfast when a knock came at the door. Walt was off gathering more dill for his step-mother's smoked fish, so she got up and opened the small panel in the door to ask, "Who is it?" "A traveler," he answered simply. "Well, keep traveling," she replied and slammed the panel closed. "I come from the prince," he added with a yell. She reopened the panel and gave him a questioning look. "What proof have you?" "Allow me in and I'll explain," he offered. "We're eating, but there's no food to spare, I'm afraid," she said as she opened the door to the weary-looking man. As he entered the room and saw the three brothers, his heart sank. His spell had found the one who last held the sleeve: the middle brother. The eldest brother spoke up, "Has he changed his mind, then?" "I'm sorry, this was a waste of time," the stranger replied. "Are you crying?" asked the youngest. The prince turned and left and ran into the woods, and the step-mother shut the door behind him. "Good riddance, I say. How odd." The brothers dug back into their food and Walt entered with the dill. He had been heading back when he spotted the stranger through the window and delayed his return to hide for a bit. The stranger seemed familiar, but as Walt peered for signs of who he was, he got blurry and it was difficult to identify any clear feature about him, but there was something wrong about him being there, but also something wonderous about him. That night, Walt woke up during the night when he heard a voice snap, "Gabe!" and then "You there?" Walt figured it was a dream, because it was the prince's voice. He hoped it didn't become a nightmare. "This mirror's not working right," said the prince's voice, and Walt realized it was coming from his mirror that had the faintest pink glow. "It didn't work. I didn't find him. You'd think it'd be fairly easy to pick him out of all the others around, but... well, I'm making camp and I'll head back tomorrow. Maybe he'll show up next year." And the glow disappeared and the dream ended. "Hey, skinny," Walt's step-mother woke him in the morning. "We're going to the village celebration for your step-brother and you're going to the market so we can finally have a feast of our own, too." So, just an hour later Walt's step-family rode on horses and Walt rode the donkey. Walt hadn't washed up and he knew he'd get better service looking less like a beggar, so he detoured towards a nearby pond he liked, and nobody paid him any mind. As Walt reached the bank of the pond, a voice came from the bushes just a few paces away. "Beautiful, isn't it?" The stranger's features rippled as Walt quickly recognized the face of the prince and froze. "It figures that I'd find you just when I'd given up, for now," he added as he stood and stepped towards Walt who gasped, realizing that the prince was stark naked and wet and beautiful. "I'm... I'm sorry," Walt mustered. "For playing hard to get? It makes for a good wedding reception story," the prince joked as he took another step forward and looked longingly up into Walt's eyes. Walt remembered his dream, or memory, from last night, and he realized he might have read parts of the last few days wrong. "Have you been looking for me?" "For a long time," the prince answered. "Have you been waiting for me?" "For a long time," Walt replied as he stepped forward and kissed the prince until they both gasped for air. "Nice ear cuff," the prince noted. Walt reached for his ear and confirmed that it was there now. They both noticed Walt's skin glowing like moonlight and somehow he had lost all of his clothes, as well. He was still very lean, but not quite as malnourished. "How is it happening already?" the prince asked rhetorically. "Who are you?" Walt felt an echo of the power of the body suit, but it seemed like a mere trickle through the dam. "Can it happen faster?" he asked the prince. "Most definitely, but tell me anytime you want me to stop," replied the prince who squatted down and started sucking on Walt's hardening dick. Walt's legs trembled with pleasure, so it was easy for the prince to pull him down onto the mossy grass. Walt felt big in the prince's warm, forceful mouth and as the prince shifted positions, Walt looked at his now foot-long, thick cock. The prince stood over Walt's torso as drops of his pre-cum fell into Walt's mouth. It was like nectar. "You're my giant muscle god!" Walt exclaimed as he felt over the prince's bulging calves and the bottom of massive quads. "And you're mine," the prince replied as he squatted down onto Walt's pole and bounced furiously. Walt considered that he was having another dream, but the pleasure of that unworldly ass that seemed to be actively massaging his cock was both too real and too beyond his imagination. Walt watched the prince's own cock swell larger and larger, and heard it smack each of them at a deeper and deeper pitch until finally Walt felt a tight squeeze that rocketed the cum out of his heavy balls and into his prince, and just as Walt's orgasm began to fade and he took a deep sigh of satisfaction, the prince shoved his cock down Walt's throat and unleashed his own torrent. Walt felt no need to breathe as he swallowed and swallowed and swallowed a river of honeyed cream. At last, the prince was spent and he crashed to the ground beside Walt. "Get some sleep," he advised, but Walt barely heard him as he drifted off. The prince was also exhausted, but he wanted to stay awake and quickly splashed into the cool pond before returning to a slowly growing Walt. It was like watching bread rise. You didn't really see anything move, but you could tell once it happened enough. Walt took on the look of an amateur swimmer, then his veins became more visible and he looked competitive. His arms thickened enough that he obviously lifted a bit, then his legs showed that he was more serious. His calves became noticeable muscles and his forearms hinted at a strong grip that with his broader shoulders and visible chest muscles made him look like a wrestler. His chest thickened, and his back began to widen his sides. His abs tightened into a more defined shape and his glutes shifted his hips up a bit. His traps rose next to a strong neck and he became an amateur bodybuilder. Then everything seemed to grow together. Bulges became more rounded, veins a bit thicker, and single bulges separated into multiple bulges as his limbs began to look wrapped in different muscles and his sides and legs became anatomy lessons in picking out individual muscles. Walt's cock stirred but it was unclear whether it was getting hard or just enjoyed moving around. His shoulders continued to grow larger and broader and each breath heaved a larger and larger chest into the air. His arms swelled large with the promise of mountainous peaks. His hands became manly paws, and the prince was tempted to kiss and lick Walt's thick, muscled feet. Walt's legs were spread by his growing thighs that could feed a family for a week, and the prince could barely keep himself from touching Walt all over. "I hope you're enjoying this as much as you look like you are," Walt said through dreamy eyes. The prince grabbed Walt and they got up and threw themselves into the pond. After they swam back a bit and their feet found the sandy bottom, they shared another long kiss. Then at the same time, they said, "I don't even know your name." And then, "You don't?" Walt realized that he had only heard the prince say his name in a dream, and the prince realized that most people just knew him as "Prince Carmine." "It's W..." they both began and then laughed. Walt said, "You first. I already know the Carmine part." "Yes, Carmine, it means red. My first name is William, but most people, well court people, call me Will." "I'm Walter White, but everyone calls me Walt. Well, some people called me skinny, but..." "Not any more," the prince, Will, said with a laugh and Walt joined him. "Ya know," Will added, "There were some Whites that once ruled a kingdom many leagues away. Do you know where your family is from?" "No, my parents died a while ago and I just live with my step-family," Walt replied. "Around here?" Will asked as he realized who Walt's step-family was. "Three brothers?" "Yeah," Walt confirmed. "Step-brothers. We're not related." "Not at all," Will confirmed. As they walked out of the pond, they stayed close enough for their hands to brush over the hard curves of the other's body, but far enough away that their eyes could roam and try to visually grasp as much as possible at once. Walt was the gigantic size he was with the body suit's magic, but it was all him now. He couldn't help marveling at his own engorged size as Will retrieved his pack from the bushes. "You're very distracting," Will agreed. "But I love it." And they kissed again. "I love you," Walt shared. "I loved how you cared for that hawk and cried when you set it free." Will was stunned. "How did you... Who are you?" Then he laughed, "I loved you the moment you stepped under the tree in the garden, and the shock on your face when I snuck up on you. I wanted to kiss you then, and ... it seemed like you knew me, like not the prince, but who I was." "I do," Walt replied before they shared another kiss. They smiled and held hands, and then Walt looked down to make sure they were on level ground. "Did you get taller? You're the same height as me now." In all their mutual admiration, they didn't realize that they were both 7 feet tall and probably over 500 pounds of hot, ripped muscle each. "I don't have clothes for this," Will admitted. "But I have the next best thing." And he took a vial out of his bag and placed a finger on each of their shoulders. Walt smelled salt and then saw the ghost of an ivory traveling cloak around Will. "We can see though them, but nobody else can," Will explained. "But we're naked underneath," said the normally modest Walt. "Everybody is," replied Will as he carried his pack and headed over to pet the donkey. "And where are we going?" asked Walt. "I hear there's a celebration in the village. For somebody important. I'd hate to ruin it." Walt had never seen his step-brother as angry as when Will snuck behind the make-shift throne and dumped him out of it. Will grabbed each of his swinging fists and brought him to his kness with a squeeze. From that angle, the step-brother could see that it was the prince, in fact, a taller, bigger prince and he started bubbering drivel and scurried off the dais. Will's hood fell back and the crowd gasped as they realized there was a single man in that cloak, and he looked like the prince but even bigger. Then Walt stepped up and brushed back his own hood. Some people might have recognized his face, but most were just thinking, "there's two of them!" "Now that I have your attention," Will boomed and was surprised by the volume and resonance of his voice. "I want you all to be witness to an important question." He paused long enough for everyone's shock to wear off and their curiosity to kick in. Will turned to Walt. "Yes!" Walt shouted. "I didn't ask yet," Will whispered. "You don't have to," answered Walt. "We'll do this properly at the palace," Will playfully warned. "Kiss him!" came a yell from an old woman in the crowd, and part of the crowd began to realize what was happening. The kissed and then both exclaimed to the crowd, "We're getting married!" And there was much rejoicing throughout the land, blah, blah. Walt and Will, or Princes White and Carmine, were surprised to realize that their cum continued to make them grow. Every year Walt used his mirror to observe the kindest and bravest and most caring actions in the kingdom and after the bodybuilding competition he awarded the winner, sometimes two, with one stein of milky drink that made them strong contenders for the following competition. And so, the kingdom became even beefier and more peaceful. Of course, the 25-foot, 4,000-pound rulers didn't hurt, either. The End.

Part 1 Tyler had just finished practicing his moves when he decided to sit down on the steps at the edge of the skate park. It was a hot day in August, and even in his baggy sleeveless shirt and shorts, he couldn’t help but feel tired in the humid summer heat. Sweat was running down his face and chest and he had to take off his baseball cap to let his shaggy blond hair out for a minute. Knowing how thirsty he was he reached to his side to grab the water bottle he had brought with him, but instead picked up a glass bottle that he discovered was empty when he absent-mindedly put it to his mouth to drink and nothing came out. “What the – this isn’t my...” Tyler started to say out loud until he was distracted by the fading label wrapped on the outside of the bottle. It featured a flashy ad of a contest involving a chance to “WIN Up to 3 Grand Prizes!” with the details covered by dirt that had clearly been stuck there for a while. Having nothing better to do at that moment, Tyler picked at the dirt until he had got most of it off. The ad continued: “Hundreds of other chances to WIN cool stuff like...” but the rest was still smeared under the remaining grime. Tyler started to message the rest of it off to finish reading; “12 cash prizes of $500, 10 new mountain bikes, 20 gift cards to any store of your choice, 200 free drinks...” “...and more!” said a voice coming over from Tyler’s right hand side. Tyler looked away from the bottle to see a man leaning against the brick wall that backed up against the side of the stairs. With his Hollister track pants and tank top, wavy brown hair, and rear facing baseball cap, he looked like any other guy that Tyler might have seen at the park. Only he was taller and older than most and more muscular than any skater guy you’d expect to meet. “I remember when they first had that contest, it’s pretty old.” He continued, “Can I see that bottle?” “Sure.” Tyler replied. He didn’t think there was anything really special about it. “Thanks, weird that it would end up here.” He examined the bottle for a moment before looking up into the horizon. “Man it’s hot outside.” He brought the bottle to his lips and quickly gulped the water that came out, which was astonishing to Tyler considering it had been empty just seconds before. The guy let out a deep breath; “damn that feels good. I was getting pretty thirsty.” He handed the bottle back to Tyler. “...Yeah...I bet.” was his response. The two just awkwardly stared at each other for a moment before Tyler decided to break the silence. “Haven’t seen you around here before, what’s your name?” “Genie”. He said. “What?” Tyler thought he had heard it wrong. “Ya, it’s Genie.” Tyler was even more confused “Who names their kid Genie?” “’Cause I am one. There’s only, like, 10 of us so there’s no point in giving us individual names like Clark or Bob.” Tyler just stared at the guy like he was nuts “Sure, a genie.” “Yep, you set me free Tyler. Now I can get my wishes.” “Wait, how did you know my name? And what do you mean YOUR wishes? If you’re really a genie, you’d be granting MY wishes.” “Who told you that?” Genie asked. Tyler hesitated “...well, you know, movies and shit.” Genie just gave Tyler a blank look “movies...and shit. Well since I’m neither of those things I think we can tell who’s the expert on genie stuff here.” Tyler wasn’t interested in continuing this bizarre conversation, so he decided to grab his skateboard, get up and leave. “Yeah, whatever” was all he said before turning around to walk away, but as soon as he did Genie put his hand on his shoulder. “Look Tyler, I’ve been waiting a really long time for this to happen and it would mean a lot to me if you could help.” “Why should I?” Tyler was starting to get annoyed with this guy. “’Cause when you’re done helping me...” Genie took Tyler’s skateboard from under his arm and held it up to his side, before making it float just above his fingers. “...I’ll give you your skateboard back.” No sooner had he said this when he snapped his fingers and Tyler’s skateboard vanished in a flash of fire and smoke. Tyler was stunned. “You asshole, what the fuck?! Give me my skateboard back!” He tried to punch Genie, but his fist just met his hand. “Look, just 10 minutes and I’ll give it back. Promise.” Tyler was still pissed, but he knew there was no use in fighting this guy. “Fine, but let’s just get this over with.” “Fair enough, I’ll make this as quick as possible so you can get back to your regular, genieless life. Now let me see...” Genie looked around for a moment while thinking about what to do first. “Well for starters, I’d like to get out of this freakin’ heat.” Another snap of the fingers. “Holy shit” was all Tyler could blurt out when he looked around him. As fast as you can blink the two of them were transported to the interior of an enormous, spectacular, multi-million dollar mansion with floor to ceiling windows looking out over the cliff on where the house was built. The air conditioning wasn’t bad either. “That’s much better, so good to get out of the humidity right?” As Genie said this he took off his shirt, revealing the incredible body that had been covered all this time. His entire torso was huge, thick and ripped, with a perfect V tapper leading to his chiselled eight (maybe ten?) pack abs and slim waist. His arms were pumped like they had just been to a workout with veins running up and down to match the look. His shoulders were broad, rounded and full and his chest was a thick, square cut slab of meat with a light, even dusting of hair on top. All over his skin had a beautiful dark tanned tone to it and without the sun in his face Tyler could get a better glimpse of Genie’s face, with its short beard and piercing, neon green eyes. After giving Genie a good look Tyler said, “Damn, you’re looking jacked man! I thought Genies were all blue or green skinned and bald, but you look fucking amazing!” Genie didn’t understand why he should be bald and green, but he just brushed that comment off to get back to the subject at hand; “You ready for this?” Continued in Part 2

Voodoo 101: Intro to Voodoo Ivan was a normal college student. Well, at least he always thought he was normal. He wasn't athletic, but he wasn't skinny or fat either. He wasn't drop dead good looking, but he wasn't ugly fortunately. His grades were C average and he didn't have any special redeeming qualities. There was one thing that did make him "not so normal" however. His eyes, instead of being brown or green like his parents, were a shocking milky white. He wasn't blind or anything, he could actually see just fine. He was getting tired of seeing people freak out whenever they see them however, so he tried to wear sunglasses as much as possible. However, enough people on campus have seen them for him to be labeled as "Zombie," a nickname he'd rather not have. It wasn't as if he asked to be born different. He always wanted to be a normal, regular guy, but because of these eyes of his, he was always made fun of or avoided. After another long day of college, Ivan finally made his way home. Instead of living in the dorms, he lived in a nearby appartment. He had been unlucky and wasn't able to secure a dorm spot, but the apartment was cheap enough to afford and close to the campus. There was only one downside though. As he walked down the hallway, he could already hear the TV in his appartment on full blast. It seemed that his roommate decided to come home early today. Taking a deep breath, Ivan unlocked the door and went inside. In the living room was Austin, his roommate, yelling at the TV like a super fan. It was no surprise though, since Austin was on the football team. There were chips and pretzels all over the floor, a mess he'll clean half assed and then leave to attract ants unless Ivan cleaned it up properly. "Yeah, touchdown!" Austin screamed, jumping off of his chair and pumping his fist, chips flying through the air. One chip actually flew and smacked Ivan on the forehead. Ivan held back his desire to complain about the mess. Austin was the typical jock; big, handsome and aggressive. The football player was 6'5" tall and weighed a good 210 lbs of solid muscle. He was rather good looking, with short brown hair, strong cheekbones and a pair of gorgeous eyes. However, Ivan was secretly more into those muscles of his. Years of training had given Austin a killer body. Large, full and yet shredded, it was a gay man's dream to live with...as long as he didn't open his mouth. Austin more or less left Ivan alone as long as he didn't bug him about it, and even then sometimes the jock gets pissed off about something. And if Ivan tried to complain about Austin's bad habits, he'd get wrestled into submission as punishment. It was the best and worst of both heaven and hell; great eye candy, but a horrible home life as a price. Biting back some choice words, Ivan made his way into his room. As soon as he was in, he dropped his backpack, flopped into his computer chair and shut his eyes. Before Ivan could get comfortable, Austin suddenly entered and dropped a big, musty and beat up looking package on his lap. "Hey Zombie, the mail guy dropped this shit off earlier and made me miss a touchdown!" "Thanks." Ivan rolled his eyes, knowing that the jock couldn't see it through his glasses. With a snort, Austin turned and went back to the living room to continue watching his game. Sighing, Ivan checked the return address on the package. To his surprise, it was from his Uncle Lester from Louisiana. Ivan had never really gotten to know his uncle, and his parents rarely even mention him. Still, there was one thing that Ivan could relate to with his estranged relative, and that was the fact that they shared the same creepy eyes. Tearing off the musty brown wrapping paper, Ivan found a thick old looking book, a wooden box and a card. Picking up the card, he began reading it. Dear Ivan I know this must come as a surprise to hear from your recluse of an uncle. I know I have not been as close like other uncles could be, but there are reasons for why I had not spoken to you. When I first gazed into those eyes of yours, I knew right away you had the gift. Your parents had wanted you to live a normal life, so they forbade me from telling you, but I sensed a great power and natural talent for the mystic arts flowing within you. Rather than letting it go to waste, I have decided to go against your parents' wishes and send you this. I am sending you this book and set as an introduction to the arts. Whether you use it or not is entirely up to you. May the spirits guide you, Uncle Lester Seriously? Mystic arts? Wasn't he talking about voodoo? Did he really expect Ivan to believe all that hocus pocus mumbo jumbo? But...even though he thought that, for some reason he believed it. He couldn't explain why, but when he read that he could use magic, it made...sense, somehow. Like it was as natural as telling him he had a heart or two legs. A quick check inside of the box revealed several small jars, small pouches, fancy looking ornaments and things he couldn't even name. Picking up the book, he read the title. "A Beginner's Introduction of the Secret World of the Ancient Art of Voodoo." Damn, that was a pointlessly long title. Still, one look at this told Ivan that it was the genuine article, for whatever hell the reason was. Everything that he learned should have told him it was completely fake, but it felt as real as the quiz he had on Monday. "I must be going crazy." He muttered even as he opened the book and started reading. * * * For the next few days, Ivan read the book every chance he got. "Intro to Voodoo" held lots of fascinating information. Like the title suggested, it was more like an introductory to voodoo than an actual spell book, though there were a few beginner spells. According to the book, Ivan could use these basic spells as a base and modify them for more advance spells. Out of curiosity he tried one of them out, a simple hex that gave someone a runny nose. He tried it out on several of his classmates to see if it really worked. To his amazement, all of them ended up with a cold, going through a few dozen tissues through class (much to the annoyance of the teacher.) One person with a cold would have just been a coincidence, but ten at the same time? After trying out a few more spells, Ivan had no choice but to accept that this book was the genuine article, even though deep down he already knew that. Perhaps it was this "natural gift" his uncle told him about, or maybe he was just being overly naiive. As his knowledge of voodoo grew, so did his desire to put it to use. There were so many different spells he wanted to try out! Of course, some of the ingredients were a bit...unique. So unique that he had no idea how to get some. One day he was walking home, thinking about his magic studies. He was almost done reading the book, but had only put to practice only a handful of tricks. Oh, if only he could figure out where he could get new books and supplies! Suddenly he felt an odd, tugging sensation pulling at him. Stopping, he looked around, trying to figure out who did that, but there was no one around. Still, the tugging sensation persisted. Well, at least it FELT like tugging, but as far as he knew it, nothing was pulling at his arm or leg or anything. It was more like he was drawn to go in a certain direction. "Ah hell, I got nothing better to do tonight." He said and started following this unnatural sensation. He had no idea where he was going, but was sure of is way somehow. The tugging sensation took him down the street, took several turns and winding paths mixing up his sense of direction completely. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of a shop. It looked normal on the outside, neat and orderly. Through the windows Ivan could see something that resembled a quaint antique shop, but something told Ivan that it wasn't exactly your everyday store. "Well, I've gone this far, might as well enter." He pushed the door open. Above him a bell rang as he entered the store. The inside wasn't nearly as bright or new looking as the outside was. When Ivan looked through the window from the outside, it looked like a nicely organized antique shop, with everyday items. Once inside, that neat shop turned into a crowded mess full of the weirdest, wackiest stuff he had ever seen. There were rows and rows of shelves loaded with all sorts of different things you'd never see in any shop. Chicken bones, crystal balls, colorful gems, ornate chinese lamps; those were just some of the more ordinary objects he could identify. Hanging on the walls and from the ceiling were various dried plants and herbs, dreamcatchers and windchimes, African tribal masks and something that resembled...a shrunken head? "Coming!" A guy's voice came from the back, causing Ivan to jump. For some reason he hadn't expected anyone to be in there. A guy, maybe a few years older than Ivan walked into view, carrying a few dozen books in his arms. When he set them down, Ivan was able to get a good look at him. The guy was pretty ordinary looking compared to his surroundings. In fact, he looked pretty cute. Rich, auburn colored that hung in soft curls, dark eyes that seemed to hold a playful secret behind them. A tall, strong looking body probably built from lifting various heavy objects around the store. He wasn't as muscular as Austin was, but he was still a nice sight for sore eyes. "Thank you for waiting, how may I help you?" The guy greeted him. "Uh, I'm..I'm just browsing."Ivan said. The guy peered at Ivan, making him uncomfortable. "You wouldn't happen to be new at the mystic arts would you?" "Wh-what makes you say that?" Ivan shifted his weight back and forth, not knowing how to react. This guy knew he could use magic? "For starters you look nervous as heck." The guy chuckled. "What if I'm just a regular guy who accidentally wandered in here?" Ivan argued. "Well first of all, you pretty much admitted you were a magic user with that sentence. A regular guy would have said something like 'what? magic?' instead. Second, only people with magic who want to be here can enter." "Is that even possible?" "Oh sure, it's your basic magic shop enchantment..." He trailed off as he looked straight at Ivan. "Your eyes..." On reflex Ivan's hand shot up and checked his sunglasses, but they were securely in place. "Wh-what about them?" "Your eyes are pretty damn awesome!" He said. That wasn't the reaction Ivan had been expecting. "What?" He was surprised more by the fact that they were called awesome and less by the fact that somehow this person managed to see his eyes through sunglasses. "You've got a mystic's eyes!" He remarked. "Those are extremely rare. All of the people who are born with those turn into really powerful magic users." "R-really?" For the first time in his life, someone was actually saying his eyes weren't creepy or weird. Not only that, they were saying it was a good thing. "Yeah, they're pretty respected in the magical community." The guy said. "At one point in time people tried to gouge out those eyes and sell them for quite a lot of money...but that practice has long died out." He said immediately upon seeing the color drain from Ivan's face. "Mystic's eyes lose power the moment they're removed, so it pretty much made them useless to everyone except the person they're born with, so I doubt anyone would be taking yours anytime soon." "Thanks, I feel so much safer than before I came here." Ivan muttered. "Yeah sorry, hey, do you know what kind of special abilities your eyes have given you?" The stranger asked excitedly. "You mean besides give people the creeps?" Ivan felt himself actually relaxing a bit. "Well, since you just started exercising your power it probably hasn't had time to fully develop yet. I'm sure it'll manifest sooner or later...Ah sorry, where are my manners, I tend to ramble on when I find something rare or valuable." He said. "My name is Soloman, owner of this fine establishment you're standing in." Soloman offered his hand. "Ivan." He took the hand and shook it. "So what kind of art do you practice?" Soloman asked. "Um...voodoo?" "Oh that's a fun one." The shopkeeper grinned. "It dabbles in all sorts of different fields. If you become top level, you can even make a zombie or two." "Er, I've seen too many zombiepocalypse movies and video games, so no thanks."Ivan shook his head. Actually it was the fact that his nickname around college was Zombie that ticked him off, but he didn't need to know that. "Hey I just said you can, not that you have to." He laughed. "Well then, back to business. Is there anything in particular you are looking for?" "Well..." Ivan hesitated for a moment, but decided to tell Soloman. It seemed that this person already knew he could use magic, and seemed trustworthy enough. And besides, who knew when he'd get a chance to find another magic shop? "I'm almost done with the book and supplies my Uncle sent me." "Lemme guess, Intro to Voodoo and a basic starter set?" Soloman asked. "Er, the book yes, I'm not sure if it was a starter set." Ivan said. "The two of them are always sold as a bundle." Soloman walked around the counter and to a bookshelf. His fingers glided along the bindings until he found the one he was looking for and pulled it off the shelf. "Here, this one is the next level up from Voodoo 101." Soloman came back to the counter where Ivan was waiting and set it down in front of him. "I also recommend the advanced hex set number two, that's got a bunch of stuff that's used in a majority of the spells. If there are any specialized ingredients or tools you need, just place an order and I should have it ready in a few days time." "Wow. Thanks, you've been really helpful." Ivan looked at the book and set in restrained anticipation. "I wouldn't have any returning customers if I wasn't helpful." Soloman laughed. "Now that'll be forty-nine ninety-five." * * * From then on Ivan made regular trips to the shop. Every time he visited there was something new there to discover. Mostly though, Ivan found he liked talking with Soloman. The guy was very interesting and knowledgeable, teaching Ivan all sorts of things, some of them not even about voodoo. After a few weeks of visiting the shop, though, Ivan began to feel his wallet getting tight. He was after all still a college student, and his new extracirrcular studies weren't exactly cheap either. When he brought the subject up to Soloman, the shopkeeper gave him a solution. "Just sell your work here." He told him. "You're making great progress in your art to the point where you can actually sell some of your stuff." "Can I really do that?" Ivan asked. "Sure, where do you think half this stuff came from?" He waved his arms at all of the items cluttering the shop. "You've showed me a few of the things you came up with, and they're all top quality stuff. Just make a few potions, portable hexes and enchanted objects and I gurantee you there will be a buyer." And Soloman was right. Ivan began supplying the shop with charms, amulets and other items, only to found them sold out the next day. Soon Ivan found himself with enough money to supply his hobby, and then some. One day Ivan went to the fridge to take out his latest work. It was a special salve that would protect a person from curses. It was a very advanced and technical project, but after fermenting it for three days in the fridge it was finally ready to sell. Upon opening the door, however, he found the jar absent. In its place was a pizza box. Not believing what he was seeing, he pulled out the box and looked inside. Three lonely slices sat there innocently, and definetely not his jar. He tossed the box to the side and began rummaging the fridge, searching for the jar. He looked behind every carton, container and junk in there, but there was no sign at all. At that moment Austin walked in, coming home from a day of practice. "Hey Austin, what did you do to the green jar that was in the fridge?" Ivan stepped away from the fridge to confront the jock. "That thing? I tossed it out." Austin said. "You tossed it out?" Ivan felt his anger surge. "I needed that for something!" "Well then you shouldn't have stashed it in the fridge. I needed room to put in the pizza, and it smelled something rank. Do you seriously even eat that stuff?" "It wasn't suppose to be eaten!" Ivan said hotly. "You could have taken the last three slices of pizza and put it on a plate, which would have saved you a ton of room! And not only that, that jar was mine! You shouldn't be tossing stuff that doesn't belong to you!" "Dude, what's your problem?" "My problem is you!" "And what're you gonna do about it, shrimp?" Austin shoved Ivan, causing him to stumble back and knocking his glasses off. "It's your fault for leaving your shit in the fridge, I was doing you a favor throwing it out. Freak." Ivan looked up to glare at Austin. Suddenly as he looked into Austin's eyes, Ivan felt something come over him. All of a sudden he could see things about Austin, personal private things. He could see Austin's desires, his fears, and his secret thoughts. All of it Ivan saw in the blink of an eye. This revelation was cut short when Austin threw his dirty, sweaty towel onto Ivan's face. "Stop looking at me like that with those freaky eyes, faggot." Then he walked away to his room and slammed the door shut. Ivan sat there on the floor for a moment, processing things over. He was furious, yes, but he was also trying to figure out what the hell he saw. Was it some sort of hallucination? No, that wasn't right. It was more like a vision, but loaded with information. Was this what Soloman meant? Was this the power of his eyes? Either way, Austin had crossed a line. Ivan had tolerated that jock long enough, and it was time to teach him a lesson he'll never forget! Marching into his room, Ivan began gathering all of the books and notes he had taken and began devising a suitable punishment for his asshole of a roommate. Austin was a good looking guy, but quite a jerk. Ivan couldn't deny that he thought his roommate's body was hot, but...there was always room for improvement. Lots of improvement, Ivan thought with a broad grin. Besides, Austin was always treating Ivan like shit anyway, so becoming Ivan's guinea pig was fair game. Wasting no time, Ivan began flipping though the pages of his book. With some modifications, there were spells that would produce a very...interesting effect. "This is going to be fun." He cackled. * * * "Damn man, you lookin' swole." Austin looked at his buddy Joey. "Yea, had a good day at the gym, could really feel the pump flowing dude!" Austin flexed his arm for his friend to see. The other jock whistled as a sizable bicep popped out. Joey was pretty decently sized himself at 190 lbs. at 6'3". He wasn't in the same league as Austin, but was close enough to be workout buddies. "Damn man, whatever you're doing, keep doing it." Joey reached out and squeezed the bicep. "Nah, I think I'm going to cut back on the bulking." Austin lowered his arm. "Aw come on, why not?" Joey asked. "I don't want to be too freakishly huge, y'know? And besides, all that muscle would just slow me down." Austin told him. "What a waste, you'd look awesome as the Hulk, minus the green skin of course." Joey laughed, and Austin joined with him. Despite what he said, Austin was a little proud with Joey's compliment. Still, a 5 lbs. gain in less than a week was super impressive to say the least, but he should really cut back. He didn't want to become one of those roided out muscle monsters after all. * * * "I must admit, I've never heard of anyone doing that kind of spell before," Soloman told Ivan, "much less to punish someone for it." "Haven't you ever heard of the term 'too much of a good thing?'" Ivan said. "Besides, if you saw what I did, you'd know this is the perfect thing for him." "I'll have to take your word for it." Soloman laughed. "Let me know how it works out, if it goes well maybe you can make a charm out of it to sell. I'm betting it'll become very popular." "I'll let you know every juicy detail." Ivan smiled. * * * Damn, another five pound gain Austin checked the scale. He checked and double checked the scale, and it still read 220 lbs. Looking into his bathroom mirror, he checked out his reflection. It was very slight, but he could see the difference those pounds had on his body; a little bit thicker, and little bit bigger. He'd really need to start focusing on cutting back soon, otherwise all that added bulk would just get in the way. Already people were giving him looks as he made his way across campus. "Ah well, i'm still pretty hot." He said, running his hand down his sexy 8 pack abs. After a moment of admiring himself, he grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. Once it was on, he tugged at it a little bit, frowning. It felt a bit tighter than usual, but then again, all of his clothes were tight, so it was nothing new. When he drop those extra pounds it'll feel comfortable on him again. * * * Ivan was secretly enjoying watching his roommate slowly swell up. Already the jock's clothes looked tighter, stretching across the growing masses. And yet Austin was oblivious to the real cause. Still, it was a bit slower than Ivan had thought. So, Ivan decided he would kick things up a bit and poured some more power into the spell, right when he saw Austin walk by in a t-shirt that was so tight it looked painted on. "He'll be busting out of that shirt in no time." Ivan snickered to himself, and went to work. * * * Riiiiiip! Austin winced as he heard something give away. Somehow he screwed up with the laundry and all of his clothes shrunk. Now everything was too tight, some of them so tight that they actually tore when he tried to put them on. After much difficulty and destroying a few shirts and shorts, he had finally managed to get something on that morning. However, several hours later his wardrobe was slowly malfunctioning, ripping whenever he reached too far or moved too suddenly. God, how embaressing he thought as he tried to focus on the lecture. However, the teacher was so boring that he felt the uncontrollable urge to yawn. As he raised his hand to cover his mouth, it caused his bicep to bulge and flex past what is sleeve could handle. Riiiip! His bicep exploded through his sleeve. "Mr. Grisman!" Austin jumped in his seat, causing something else to rip. "What?" "You're disrupting the class. If you want to show off your body so badly, do it outside." The teacher pointed at the door. The entire class laughed as Austin's face turned red while gathering his things. As he made his way through the aisles and towards the door, the seams of his pants suddenly gave way to his thich quads, shredding apart at the sides very loudly and making the class laugh again. Fucking hell, I gotta go on a diet right away Austin told himself. But first, he needed to go and buy some new clothes. * * * "He's at the point where he's outgrowing his clothes now." Ivan reported happily to Soloman. "He's that big now huh?" Soloman's hands were busy sorting out a few dozen different feathers into bundles. "One wonders just how far you're willing to take this." "Well, one wonders how far he CAN take this." Ivan said. Soloman paused for a moment to look at Ivan. Whenever he was in the shop, Ivan would take off his sunglasses since the shopkeeper didn't mind them one bit. When their eyes met, Ivan felt a feeling of concern and other thoughts flow into him. Weirdly enough, he felt as if Soloman was also reading him as well. "I'm just concerned that your quest will consume you." Soloman turned away and resumed his task. "I've seen a lot of good men get too wrapped up in revenge and ended up destroying themselves." "Don't worry; I know what I'm doing." Ivan reassured him. "I know you do." Soloman tied a leather string around one bunch of feathers, inspected it carefully, and then moved on to the next one. "Enjoy your fun Ivan, but I suggest having some protection on you in case he ever finds out. You two DO live with one another after all, and if you grow him as big as you say you are, he'll be able to knock your head clear off with one blow." "Don't worry about me; I know how to take him down when the time comes." Ivan reassured him. "In the meantime, I think I'll enjoy watching him blow up." * * * Austin stared down at the scale. It had to be broken. It was the only logical explanation. There was no way he could weigh as much as it said. 246 lbs. "Fucking hell!" He said as he gave the scale a kick, sending it banging against the wall. Now it was REALLY broken. There was no way he could weigh 246 lbs. No absolute freakin' way. His eye caught his reflection in the mirror, and he quickly averted it. He had been avoiding it for the past several days. It was mostly because he didn't want to face the truth. Despite his desire not to, however, he couldn't stop himself from turning and facing the mirror. If the scale was broken, the mirror must've been broken too because the man in it clearly looked like he was 246 lbs. Every muscle on his body was obscenely huge, just like a pro bodybuilder's. His shoulders and lats spread out wide like a barn door, filling the view in the mirror. His chest, which had once been one of his weakest spots, was now as big as two ripe honeydew melons. His arms rippled like pythons, each of them measuring at around 20 inches cold. Maybe I'm just retaining water he thought, that could explain why he looked so big. But in reality, his muscles looked extremely ripped. All of the fat on his body seemed to have been burned off and left him with the best definition he had ever seen. His abs, thankfully, didn't grow bigger, but those 10 packs looked more shredded and defined than they have ever been. "I'll just stop lifting for awhile, that should cut some mass off." He said. If he can cut some mass and keep his current definition, he'd probably be the hottest guy on campus. But that was the main problem. He just kept on adding bulk. It wasn't as if he was lifting harder, and sure his strength gains were amazing, but no one could pack on 35 lbs. of muscle in les than a month! He'll stop going to the gym, plain and simple. He'll just jog and keep to a strict diet, which should work. Picking up his shirt he pulled it over his head and tugged it on. The shirt barely made it halfway when a loud tearing sound filled the air. "SHIT!" He tore the rest of the shirt off and threw it on the ground. It looked like he'll have to go and buy 5XL shirts now. * * * Ivan was ecstatic that his voodoo magic was working so well. He'd hear Austin swear loudly as sounds of ripping clothing filled the air every other day, a sign of his ever growing bulk. Austin was no longer a lean 'super model' nor was he merely athletic. No, now Austin was looking like a full blown bodybuilder, with muscles that could hold it's own in any contest. Soon the jock will reach the same level as a super heavyweight bodybuilder, perhaps even going beyond them. Of course, Ivan made sure that his spells weren't wrecking Austin's health. He may be doing this out of spite, but he wasn't trying to kill him or anything. Austin would be the healthiest musclebound mass monster on campus by the time Ivan was done with him (but that probably wouldn't be anytime soon.) * * * "Fuck man, what the hell is going on with me?" Austin muttered as he looked down at himself...or at least tried to. His chest had grown so thick that it was starting to block his view of anything past them. However, he knew full well what was going on: he was growing bigger. 302 lbs. 302 fucking lbs. He couldn't explain it; it was like his muscles were growing without even trying! He hadn't touched a single weight in a week, and yet every day when he would step onto the scale, he would find the number creeping higher and higher until finally he broke through the 300 mark. He would blame it on the scale being broken again or something, but this was a brand new scale and his reflection in the mirror proved otherwise. Now he was the size of a Mr. Olympia contender, only he was both massive AND ripped. If he took part in the contest, he could probably win easy. "Fucking hell, I'm too big!" Austin reached up and squeezed his chest, trying his best to make it smaller somehow. As his hand squeeze the muscle, his cock within his shorts twitched, prompting him to jerk his hand back. He wasn't...turned on by this, could he? * * * Ivan knew that Austin WAS turned on by what was going on. When he looked directly into Austin's eyes, saw it; a burning desire to grow huge. Despite what he claims, or how hard he denies it, the truth was that Austin liked having a huge body. However, the jock had been brainwashed into thinking that people were disgusted by what he was told as "oversized" and "too huge." Of course, Austin was also worried about losing his speed with all that muscle mass, which was true, but he was never the fastest on the team anyway. And honestly, there were more people who would love to see Austin pack it on than the jock thought. * * * "I don't care how you do it, just stop taking whatever shit you're on and lose all that muscle before the next game you hear me!?" Coach's voice could be heard clear through the building. Fortunetely it was dead at that time so no one else was around to hear Austin get chewed out. It was quite the sight, a 320 lbs muscle giant getting put down by an overweight middle aged man. "Are you trying to get kicked off the team? Is that is!?" Coach yelled. "No sir, I love football, I want to stay on the team." Austin said. Yet somehow it sounded so hollow. "Then stop putting on muscle and start using your head!" Coach banged his fist on the table. "Last game you brought too much attention to you, people are already talking about you taking steroids to boost your game. And you know what? They're probably right." "But coach, I swear I'm not taking-" "Don't give me those excuses! How else does a man gain over eighty pounds in less than two months!?" Coach demanded. Austin was at loss for words. Even he couldn't figure that out. The coach let out a deep breath and sat back down. "Listen, I'm not against you bulking up and all that, frankly it's making you unbeatable on the field. But it's just too much too fast to be natural. If you get any bigger, I'll have no choice but to have to take some tests." "I understand coach." Austin said. "Now get out there and eat a cheeseburger or something else unhealthy." The coach said, dismissing him. Austin sighed as he left the coach's office and stepped out. He had been expecting this for quite some time. Somehow it didn't seem as bad as he thought. It was weird, his spot on the team was in jeopardy, but he didn't seem to care as much as he should have. As he was walking by the gym, he heard a clank. Curious he looked in. Inside was his friend and teammate Joey, having tripped over a barbell. "You okay there?" He asked, coming the rest of the way in. Joey's eyes went wide when he saw Austin...all of Austin. It wasn't the first time someone had that reaction when they say him. Pretty much everyone stared and gaped whenever he walked by, his massive thighs rolling around each other, his clothes appearing painted on his bloated, oversized body. "I, uh, was just, uh," Joey just looked at Austin dumbfoundly. Austin sighed. "I know,you think I look like a freak." "What?" Joey looked at Austin blankly. "Don't try and deny it, you and everyone else think I look like a freak with all these muscles." "I don't think you look like a freak!" "Oh come on, look at me!" Austin grabbed the front of his shirt and tore it off, exposing his body. Joey gasped. Never before had the football player seen anyone so huge and ripped before. Austin's traps and deltoids laid on his shoulder like bowling balls had been stuffed under the skin. Those arms must've been 28 inches around, with biceps the size of Joey's head at least. With every breath, Austin's pectorals seemed to heave outwards powerfully, like two inflating balloons with nipples. Austin's waist was so defined, so shredded he could probably shred cheese on it. Even though Austin didn't take off his pants, there was no hiding those massive tree trunk legs of his, with quads as thick as Joey was and calves the size of hams. "You...want to know what I think?" Joey said softly. "What, that I'm a giant hideous freak?" Austin asked. Slowly Joey looked up, his eyes trailing up those thick calves, the tree trunk legs, the rippling waist, the broad pectorals, the wide lats, the cannonball traps and finally to Austin's face. "I think you look hot." Austin looked at him, not sure if he heard right. "What?" "I think you look hot as hell." Joey said again. "Are you fucking with me?" Austin growled. "Because I'm not laughing." "It's the truth!" Joey took a step back. "I...fuck man, I never wanted to say anything, but I think all those muscles are fuckin' hot. I think the bigger you get, the better you look." "If I get any bigger, I'll be too big for football!" Austin yelled."Coach is right about to kick me off the team because of them!" "I-I know, and that sucks, but I can't help it, I think you look awesome." Joey said. Austin didn't know what to make of this. He wanted to be angry at Joey, he really did. But he couldn't muster the anger up. Joey was his friend, and finding out that he was both gay and into Hulk sized muscles at the same time...well, now that he knew, the signs were so obvious. Joey always was excited whenever Austin showed off his muscles, or bragged about his gains. And those muscle feels, they occured more often and lingered a bit longer than normal. But, all in all, Austin didn't mind it one bit. "Do you...do you really think I look good with all this?" Austin asked. "Oh fuck yeah." Joey said, approaching slowly. "Even if I continue to get even bigger?" Austin could feel the crotch of his pants tighten. "Especially if you get bigger." Joey reached out and placed a hand on a massive deltoid. He attempted to squeeze it, but was met with steely muscle insted. "And...would you be willing to stick around and watch me grow bigger?" "You'd have a hard time keeping me away big guy." Joey said as he pressed his body against Austin's, feeling those hard muscles flex and bulge back. And then suddenly they were kissing. Austin couldn't remember who kissed the other first, but he didn't care. It just felt so good, so...right, that he didn't want it to stop. Soon they were fumbling to take his pants off, peeling the fabric away to expose his colossal lower body. His cock sprang to life from the confines of his boxer, having also exerienced the same growth spurt as the rest of his body, extending to a full 13 inch length. "God it's so huge." Joey gasped as he looked at the massive member. "You don't have to if you don't want to." Austin said, then gasped when Joey lowered his ass on top of it. "Oh I want it. I've wanted it ever since I first saw you in the shower." Joey whispered. "Alright, but don't regret it later." Austin told him, then pierced Joey's ass. Joey cut off a cry that escaped his throat, followed by a deep moan. As Austin began to rock his hips, Joey was worshiping those glorious muscles, his tongue and lips servicing them as best as he could. The more Joey worshiped his muscles, the closer it brought Austin to climax. Soon Austin was flexing his muscles, bouncing his pecs and rippling his abs, and it turned him on even more! Joey couldn't take it anymore and shot his load, cum splattering over those perfect abs. Austin however still kept rocking, flexing and posing, his balls churning and painfully swelling as his seed built up, closer and closer until finally he let out a roar and blew, his cock spewing shot after shot into his best friend. After a full two and a half minutes of shooting, his balls finally emptied and the both of them collapsed onto the gym floor. "That...was...incredible." Joey gasped. Austin looked at him, and listened to those words thoughtfully. "It really was." * * * The bell rang as Ivan walked into the store in high spirits. As Austin grew bigger, Ivan's mood seemed to brighten as well. Who knew turning your roommate into the Hulk could make you...peppy? "Afternoon Ivan!" Soloman greeted him from the counter, a grocery bag already set on the counter. "I've got your usual muscle monster making supplies ready for you." "Thanks Soloman!" Ivan said as he reached for his wallet. "So how big is the giant stud now?" Soloman asked curiously. "Austin is pushing about 360 lbs. now." Ivan reported. "He's gotten so big the people at the big and tall are actually having trouble getting him stuff big enough to fit him." "Geez, sounds like his expenses are just piling up as he grows huh?" "Well he's got a football scholarship and everything, so he can afford it." Ivan said as he handed over the money. "Last game he played he was unstoppable, they just handed him the ball and he plowed his way through all the way to the end zone." Soloman laughed as he handed Ivan his change. "Wish I could have seen it. Anyways, I've got a few people interested in that spell of yours. When you get the chance, enchant a few amulets and charms with it and you'll be making yourself a small fortune." "For now I'll just enjoy practicing it on my roommate." Ivan said as he picked the bag up. "I'll see you in a few days then." "Alright take care!" Soloman said as Ivan left. Ivan got home from another trip to his supply store, his grocery bag filled with ingredients for his spells. So far his work on Austin had gone beyond what he could have ever imagined, and quite frankly he wasn't sure if he wanted to stop. And besides, he already bought the supplies for it, so he might as well put them to good use. As he walked towards his room, he saw that the door was left ajar. He frowned, having remembered closing it before he left. Feeling something was wrong, he slowly opened the door and walked in. Austin was in his room. The360 lbs. behemoth looked positively massive in his small room, taking up much of the space. Around him were his spells books and written notes. All of his drawers were open, revealing his ingredients and tools. "What is all this?" Austin asked. "These books, all these weird stuff, this right here!" He held up the sheets of paper containing all of his muscle growing spell research as well as the pictures and weight readings that he made of Austin. There was no way for him to lie around this. "I've been using voodoo to grow your muscles." He told him. "You did this to me!?" Austin dropped the papers. "You turned me into this...this...THIS!?" He motioned his hand at his body. Every muscle rippled and flexed powerfully. If Ivan wasn't being yelled at, he would have found it incredibly hot. "Call it payback for always being an ass to me." Ivan crossed his arms. Mentally he prepared to throw a hex or two to immobilize Austin as soon as he threw a punch. "You...you..." Austin began to shake violently. Ivan took a deep breath and prepared to take Austin down. Suddenly Austin dropped to his knees, creating a massive THUD that shook the floor. "Thank you." Ivan choked back the activation key. "W-what?" "Thank you...for this." Austin said. Ivan didn't know how to respond. He had expected the huge man to go into a rage and try to kill him or something, but this was the exact opposite of the reaction he had been anticipating. "I...know I was being an asshole to you, treating you like shit cuz of your freaky looking eyes. You probably did this because I was a dick, probably grow into a huge muscle monster. But, I like it. I...I really like it. I like tearing out of my clothes, I like having to squeeze through doorways, I like the stares people give me as I walk by, I like seeing myself get bigger and bigger." "I know you do." Ivan said. "A month and a half ago when I looked into your eyes, I saw everything about you." "You...did?" Austin looked up, flinched slightly as he saw Ivan's white eyes. "And...and you didn't turn me into a tiny wimp instead?" "What can I say, I'm into big guys." Ivan shrugged. "Sure I was tempted, and yeah I did it because I was mad, but honestly I did it because I thought it was the best way to teach you a lesson. And besides, I felt that you needed to figure out what you really wanted instead of going for what other people say." "Thank you!" Austin grabbed Ivan and hugged him tightly. Suddenly the tiny witch doctor found his face being crushed into the valley between two massive pecs, with arms as thick as hams wrapped around him. "Dude, can't breathe..." Ivan struggled to say, but he had to admit he found it hot. "Oh, sorry." Austin dropped his smaller roommate. "I'm still adjusting to being this big. Though, I gotta confess, when I ripped a door off it's hinges the other day, it felt awesome." "I'll bet." Ivan laughed. "Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way, there's something I want to ask you." "Yes? What is it?" "Can you PLEASE pick up after yourself? Your oversized boxers made me almost trip the other day." * * * "It's amazing how much a person could change in so little time. And I'm not talking about the physical changes Austin had gone through." Ivan said, his hands moving through the box of trinkets. "Though a 260 lbs. gain in the span of a two months is impressive enough as it is." Soloman pointed out. "No, what's amazing is how an arrogant jerk could become decent person." Ivan held up a gemstone and inspected in closely. "Who knows, maybe in a few weeks we could actually get along to the point where we could be friends." Finding the stone satisfactory, he set it aside. "That's pretty rare, the subject of a voodoo revenge actually becoming friends with the person who casted it in the first place." Soloman remarked as he placed the rest of the stones back into their box and put them away. "Then again, you are quite the unique individual." "Me? I'm just an ordinary guy with a weird hobby." Ivan smiled as he dug out his wallet. After finishing his trip to Soloman's store, Ivan went back home and was unloading his bag full of spell supplies onto the counter. Now that his roomate knew about it, Ivan didn't have to hide everything in his room (which was a good thing, since it was starting to reek in there.) He was just putting away a bunch of dried herbs when Austin came in. It was quite a sight, watching Austin try to fit his 380 lbs frame through the narrow doorway. Even while turning sideways, his pecs scraped the frame. Once through, he walked towards Austin, his mammoth thighs rolling around each other in a super exagerated bodybuilder waddle. Today he wore a muscle shirt that was true to it's name. The fabric of the 15XL shirt was stretched so tight it was a miracle it didn't tear off when he took a deep breath. "Hey Austin, how was practice today?" Ivan asked as he pulled out a jar of gator teeth from the grocery bag. "I left the team today." Austin reported. Ivan fumbled, nearly dropping the jar he was holding. "You what? Why?" "I just...rather than playing sports, I liked hitting the gym even more." Austin said. "And rather than go through the hassle of getting accused for doing steroids, I thought I should best leave the team before they make a huge deal about it." "And what about your scholarship?" Ivan set down the jar. "I got a bunch saved up," Austin told him, "plus I'll get a part time job. I can probably get one as a bouncer easy with a body like this." He reached out and grabbed his bicep. His hand couldn't even cover half of it, and this was a hand that used to palm footballs. "You're serious about this." Ivan said. "Yea, I am." Austin reached up and scratched the back of his neck. It was an awesome display, his biceps fought with his forearm, his triceps flared out. If he had been wearing sleeves it would have probably burst by now. Ivan looked up at Austin, and Austin met his gaze. For a few brief moments they kept eye contact before Ivan broke out into a smile. "Well I wish you the best of luck roomie." Ivan told him. "Thanks, I know it ain't easy living with me." Austin relaxed a bit. "That's for sure, but you've mellowed out a lot now that you're pushing 500 lbs." Ivan pointed out. "I'm only 380." Austin corrected. "Not for long my friend," Ivan grinned as he took a jar and cracked it open. "Not for long..."

An old story I've cleaned up for you pleasure... “Alex, we got a new patient” Doctor Peters called Alex quickly moved from the nurses station and joined the doctor on his way to the room. Alex was new, he’d only been on the ward for a couple weeks. But he was getting used to the way things worked in the hospital. Alex had seen most of the nurses get hit on and harassed, but Alex was a guy, a hot guy, but still a guy. He’d been a gymnast in high school, and it showed. He was lean but toned and was always turning heads with his tight bubble butt showcased to perfection in his nursing scrubs. “18 year old male, came in with multiple broken bones, multiple lacerations and widespread bruising,” Peters explained. “Car accident?” Alex asked. “No, he’s not saying anything. Police found him in the park. They think he was beaten,” Peters answered grimly. “He’s in 19.” ———————————————————————————————————— Room 19 was the usual private hospital room: a bed, a couch, the same plain grey walls and a tv up in the corner. There were two people in the room with the patient when Alex and Doctor Peters walked in. Two short fat blonde men in their late twenties huddled around the bed. The two were dressed in well worn suits and both looked very tired and very worried. Alex could also easily tell that they were identical twins. Resting in the bed was a small skinny kid. Even though Alex knew he was 18, kid was the only word for him. He might of been a cute guy, if it wasn't for the massively swollen black eye and stitched up blood splattered cheek. Even his golden blonde hair was still matted with dry blood. His right arm was in a sling, and the left wrist was bandaged. A mass of bandages were wrapped tightly around his waist, no doubt to help some broken ribs heal. Both his legs looked to be in casts, but they were covered by blankets. Peters introduced himself. “Hello, I’m Doctor Peters, I’ll be handling your brothers case.” The twins nodded and shook the doctor’s hand. “Sven and Axel Storberg,” one of the blond men said. “We’re Thor’s legal guardians.” Alex looked at the tiny teenager. Thor was a very unfortunate name for him. He could never live up to that image. Peters continued. “Ok, this is Alex, he’s the nurse for this section of the floor, so he’ll be your brother’s nurse.” The twins looked to Alex as he checked on of the monitors that kept an eye on Thor’s vitals. “Will he be ok?” one of the twins asked. Alex couldn’t tell which one. “He’s stable, so he’ll be fine,” Peters explained. “Just a few weeks of rest.” “You should go, you have work,” a weak voice called from the bed. The twins nodded reluctantly and Peter’s gestured for the door. “We just have a couple things to talk about,” Peters said to the kid as they left. ————————————————————————————————————————— Thor was the only patient on Alex’s section, so between checking the kid and spinning in his chair at the nursing station, he had nothing to do. The kid had been in and out of sleep, and it was coming up to the end of Alex’s shift. The hospital was never very busy, but Alex wanted to keep an eye on the kid. He had a feeling about something. The kid was awake when Alex went to check on him before leaving for the night. “Hi,” Thor greeted, smiling weakly. “Hey, just checking on you before I leave. I’ll be back in the morning,” Alex explained, bending to check the monitors next to the bed. “Another nurse will check in the night, but you should be sleeping then.” “Ok,” Thor wheezed. Alex stood up and looked at the boy for a moment, his eyes were so blue. Ice blue, they almost looked unnatural. Alex picked up the chart at the end of the bed and clicked through it. It had the boy’s entire history. “So your brothers are raising you?” Alex asked. “Yea, parents died when I was eight. Sven and Axel had just turned 18,” Thor explained. “They gave up going to college to look after me and now they are working themselves to death to get me into a college.” “They sound like good people,” Alex said. “So why didn’t you tell them you were beaten?” Thor squirmed a little in his bed. “Did it happen because you’re gay?” Alex asked. Thor went still. “How did you know?” he asked quietly. “Even bruised and broken you still craned your neck to check out my ass when I was bent over a minute ago.” Alex smiled as the kid blushed. “You won’t tell anyone will you?” He asked. “No, but you really should. If no one else, you should tell your brothers and the police,” Alex offered. “I can’t,” Thor sighed. “I don’t remember who did it.” Alex flicked through the chart. The MRI scan taken when the kid first came in showed signs of massive brain activity. “Is you head hurting? Any headaches?” Alex asked. With the bruise and cuts on his head, he appeared to have a concussion at least. “No, my head’s the only thing not hurting.” Thor smiled. “Its feels amazing actually, like clear and focused.” “But you can’t remember who beat you?” Alex asked. Thor suddenly looked like he’d been caught. “Yea, odd isn't it,” Thor smiled, but Alex thought it almost looked like a smirk. Alex laughed. “See you in the morning. Think about talking, it’s for the best!” —————————————————————————————————————————— Alex switched into his scrubs before heading out onto the ward the next morning. He lifted the scrub bottoms up to his face, they seemed shorter then usual. “They seem to get shorter every day,” a voice joked. Alex turned to see an almost model like guy pull on his own scrubs, tiny tight shorts and an even tighter top that revealed the bottom row of his abs. “Yea,” Alex replied then quickly added, “Are you new?” The nurse shook his curling blond head. “No, been here longer then you.” “Really?” Alex asked shocked. He was sure he’d have noticed a guy like this walking the halls. “Yep, no worries though,” the nurse smiled. “This hospital is weird, only hunky guys seem to be nurses here. Its cool, but a major distraction.” The nurse vanished from the locker room and Alex followed. He tried to pull his shirt lower as the air fluttered over his abs. As he headed to Thor’s room, he noticed the absence of female nurses. There wasn’t any at all. There were female doctors and patients, but only guys in the revealing nurse scrubs and they were all major eye candy. Alex picked up Thor’s chart from the nurse’s station as a ginger nurse with amazing biceps quickly explained that Thor was awake and had been fed his breakfast. Alex was really confused by the sudden change in staff as he entered Thor’s room, but that all changed the second he saw Thor. The kid was fine, perfectly healthy. No bruises, no broken bones and no nasty cuts. He was sitting up on the bed and clicking through the channels on the TV. “Hey Alex,” Thor said, his painfully blue eyes staring. “You ok?” Alex pointed at the kid as the door swung shut behind him “You were hurt. I mean massively, like bloody corpse hurt,” he shouted. “You really want to shout corpse any louder?” Thor asked, definitely smirking this time. Alex hushed himself. “But you were….” “What?” Thor asked again, just staring. A pain shot through Alex’s head, but it was gone as quick as it came. But the confusion got even worse. “Nothing,” Alex answered, checking the chart. “I’m sure I talked to a kid like you…. he’d been beaten for being gay.” “Oh….” Thor nodded knowingly, his eyes though looking deep into Alex’s “I was… I mean am being bullied for being gay, you must have just forgot.” “Yea, must of,” Alex agreed, scolding himself for sounding so stupid. “So you hear for another session? The last nurse really worked it hard, gave his arms a real big pump,” Thor asked, tossing a grey cylinder to Alex. Alex caught it, but the chart fell onto the bed. He examined the tube, it was plastic with a fleshy opening in the shape of a mouth. It was a FleshJack. “Why do I have this?” Alex asked. Thor laughed. “Did you not sleep or something? It’s for my condition.” Alex stared at the kid, noticing the blue eyes seemed even bluer then a second ago. They cut into Alex and the confusion started to vanish. “Its for your HLS,” Alex stated, the memories returning. “Hyper Libido Syndrome.” Thor sniggered as he pulled off his pants. “Get jacking!” he ordered. Alex smiled. It was his job, after all. It wasn’t like someone made up the condition, he remembered studying it. It was very rare, but the men who suffered from it needed to ejaculate regularly. And from what Alex remembered, Thor had one of the worst cases the doctors had ever seen. After lubing up the FleshJack, Alex quickly examined Thor’s cock. It was average in every way, 6 by 4. He remembered yesterday when Peters made him Thor’s nurse. He’d expected HLS to be present only in men with massive fat cocks, not the little thing that Thor had. But Thor was a sufferer and needed his condition to be treated, so Alex started jacking. —————————————————————————————————————————— “Here’s the latest sample,” Alex explained as he handed the full FleshJack to the ginger nurse. “Wow, I only finished him off like ten minutes before you got here,” the nurse smirked. “Guy’s a cum factory.” Alex thought for a moment. He’d seen Thor as a kid, but he was a guy, a man. Alex had just jacked Thor off and he certainly wasn’t a kid. Especially with how much he’d cum. Alex watched the nurse leave with the FleshJack, his bubble butt bouncing in the tiny scrub shorts as he walked. Another nurse, one with olive toned skin and black hair, passed pushing a patient in a wheel chair. He winked at Alex and bounced his chiseled chest. It seemed normal to him now. How could he have forgotten about this? All of the hot nurses were the reason he’d applied for this hospital. ——————————————————————————————————————————— It was nearing the end of Alex’s shift and he hadn’t returned to Thor’s room. He’d gotten another nurse to provide Thor with release and the ginger nurse had jumped at the chance. But when a massive tray of food arrived for Thor’s dinner, Alex was too curious to pass the delivery job off to someone else. Why would Thor need so much food? He was tiny, barely 5 and a half feet tall and so skinny. Alex almost struggled to carry the over laden tray of chicken, potatoes and vegetable to room 19, but thankfully he was able to pop the door open and was quick to get the tray down onto the table next to the bed. “Dinner,” Alex announced to an empty bed. Alex looked around the room, no little blond kid sitting on the couch, looking out the window. Thor was nowhere to be seen. But there was a very large man doing crunches on floor next to the bed. Alex just watched for a little while as the man pulled himself up and in a deep voice counted out each rep of the exercise. “412, 413, 414,” he listed out between reps. Alex was in awe of the man’s vast back, only each deeply cut and sculpted muscle. His shoulders were rounded and bulky, his traps and neck thick with muscle. As Alex watched, the man moved his folded arms out from in front of him as they aided his crunches and moved them inline with his shoulders, which only enhanced the v-shape of his torso. Alex marveled at the size of his biceps, the thickness of his forearms and the size of his monstrous hands. A mane of long golden blond hair ran down his back. “Shit, sorry wrong room,” Alex spluttered after he broke out of his trance. The man jumped to his feet with a thud and Alex was sure the room shook. He was very tall, much taller then Alex’s 5ft10. His feet took up entire tiles of flooring, and his hospital pants were pulled tight around his bulky calves and boulder like ass. He turned and Alex felt his heart race. The man was a god, his entire body built to perfection with huge chiseled muscle. His chest was wide and heavy with overdeveloped pectorals, each one covered in a pelt of golden hair. The hair continued down his cinderblock eight pac and down into the waist band of his pants. His waist was tight and slim, but decorated with a deeply cut apollo’s belt. The beginning of his tree trunk thighs were on show by the long hanging waistband, the pants being pulled low on his front by the swollen burden that ran over a foot down his pants leg. His face were overtly manly. He had a strong jaw with thick golden stubble and a broad brow. But Alex was focused on the painfully blue eyes that stared back at him. “You’re in the right room, Alex,” Thor smirked.

A one off I found buried deep in my documents folder, did a little rewriting and clean up. But its more of less one of my first stories from when I was 16. ——————————————————————————————————————————— TIPS Jamie hate Chris with a vengeance, they were polar opposites. Jamie a smart, hardworking student, and Chris a lazy,arrogant football star. They’d only been forced together because neither could afford to live alone. But Chris was taking liberties every day, Jamie would return home from either college or his job at a local restaurant to find the apartment a mess. Chris would usually be snoozing on the sofa, in just his briefs, teasing his unfortunate roommate with his chiseled tanned body. Jamie was getting tired of it, Chris was nearly always late with the rent and Jamie couldn’t handle school, work and cleaning an apartment every day. So he got Chris a job at the restaurant, they were now both waiters. Jamie regretted it the first day. Chris in all his 6ft5 brick shit house glory attracted every customer to his section. Within a week Chris was racking in 3 times his wage in tips every day, Jamie was barely making half. “Some guys just have it kid” Mr Cliff the manager would grunt when ever Jamie complained And he was the only one to complain, the other workers, all girls, loved Chris and he loved them if the moaning from his room every night was anything to go by. Chris knew how Jamie felt and rubbed it in his face at every opportunity. He’d flash his cash when ever he could, and even got Jamie to agree to being the only cleaner of the apartment when Jamie fell short of the rent one month. It was all because of Chris’ looks, Jamie was sure of it. When people came into the restaurant their eyes were instantly attracted to the broad shouldered jock and his killer smile. He brought a uniform a size too small to show off his pecs and abs, he’ll roll the sleeves up so his biceps really bulged. The customers loved it, the girl fawned over him and the guys admired his body and would question him about workouts and sport. Jamie would only get a thanks and a minuscule tip. One day a package arrived for Jamie, there was no return address. He opened it and found a book, an old leather book. A letter attached read. Try the spell on page 23 A Friend A spell book, Jamie thought, it couldn’t be real. He flicked the book open to page 23. Transfer Spell, even the playing field with this handy curse. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Jamie decided to give the spell a go, after a couple days of getting ready he chanted out the curse in the staff toilet at work and felt the power of it surge inside him, then very anti climatically it dissipated. When he returned to his section of the restaurant he spotted hulking Chris taking another handful of tip money, and it made Jamie smirk. The curse had needed something to set the transfer off, and Chris’ catalyst would be tips. Every tip he got for the next couple hours would ‘even the playing field’. Even if only a couple inches were gifted to Jamie it could make the world to the 5ft7 waiter. Jamie had chosen a Thursday to place the curse on Chris, it was their slowest day of the week, so not that much would be taken from Chris, Jamie wasn’t a nasty person, he just wanted the world to be fair. But Jamie hadn’t accounted for the local stadium hosting a music concert that Thursday. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Thanks ladies” Chris grinned at the twenty the giggling group of girls has left him at their table He stuffed it into his apron, and then pulled the apron’s knot tighter around his waist, it felt a little loose. Chris quickly loaded the girls plates up and carried them back balanced expertly on his thick forearm. His other arm swung at his side and he’d flex his bicep a little for the tables he passed. The ladies eyes would light up and most of the men would either submit to Chris’ obvious dominance or would have a flash of confusion cross their face as odd thoughts entered their heads. An elderly man stopped Chris and gave him a friendly shake of his free hand “For you kid, I saw your game last week you deserve it” The man left for the door, Chris tucked the folded up 50 into his apron. There was always one or two people who felt the football star needed to be congratulated and he never complained. Chris wobbled on his feet and the plates slid off his arm, he stood dumb as they crashed to the floor. It had never happened before, he had perfect balance, his arms where long and thick enough for a full tale of plates to rest on. “I’ll get it honey, just go back to your table” one of the waitresses offered Chris left the shattered pile and quickly moved away from the stares to the other side of his section. He felt uneasy on his feet, like his shoes had gotten bigger. He pulled his apron tight again, the knot must of gotten loose. “Was everything good” he asked a family while pushing his sleeves over his biceps again The table nodded and Chris took the cheque from them, the dad handing him a bundle of ones and fives. Chris tucked them into his apron with the other bills and pushed his sleeves up again, he then rolled them up, the fabric getting caught in the nook between this shoulder and bicep. It looked like a larger fold then usual, but Chris moved on from that thought, me must just be having an off day. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Jamie was shaking with nerves, the restaurant was crowed, and it really shouldn’t be. He spotted Chris a couple times, the jock still had his stupid grin. Jamie knew his plan for a couple inches would be way off now, a few feet may be on the table. Jamie cleared a table and tried to catch a glimpse of Chris in the crowd, Jamie’s section was tucked in the corner and he really didn’t have a good view of much, only a couple booths and a pillar. He flexed his feet in his shoes, they were tight, the curse was working. He dumped the plates in the kitchen and knelt down to loosen his shoes. His shirt was pulled taunt of his widening back, a small tear appearing at the seams on the his growing shoulders. Jamie jumped up, his chest heaving. Which it had never done before, there had been nothing to heave. Now there was the beginning of pecs pulling his small shirt tight under his apron. “Hey Jamie” Mr Cliff called from the far side of the kitchen “You been working out” “Yea…..” Jamie replied, his voice a little deeper then before “Good for you, Chris must be rubbing off on you” Mr Cliff nodded approvingly “Something like that” Jamie shrugged and scratched the back of his head nervously A rip spread out from his armpit, the shirt splitting as he stretched. Jamie quickly ducked out of the kitchen and returned to his section. He moved almost roboticly, trying not to make any dangerous shirt bursting movements. He stood like a statue at a table taking down an order, but he could feel air on his waist just below his bellybutton, and the bottom of his pants leg was hanging about his ankles now. Jamie was taller, at least two or three inches. His quota for a couple of stolen inches had been met with hours left to go. Jamie almost felt sorry for Chris. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Chris tripped over his shoes as he rushed to the staff toilet. His feet slipped out and he fell to his knees, he crawled the last couple feet and kicked the door closed, no one should see him like this. He stood up, his shrinking shoulders slid through the apron’s neck hole and it landed onto the floor, a few bills toppled out of the full pocket. Chris stared at himself in the mirror over the sink, his smaller hands gripping the porcelain. He was shorter, barely taller then his nerdy roommate Jamie. His heavily built body long gone, he looked like he’d just started hitting the gym. His shirt hung loose on him, not highlighting his muscles like it used to. The black uniform pants sat around his skinny ankles. He could feel the tears welling up. He looked like a kid, now of his hunky jock self remained. His lantern jaw was soft and devoid of stubble. His styled blond hair had lengthened and curled slightly. Chris whimpered, his voice almost musical in its softness. He then heard someone moving towards the door, someone big. THUD, THUD, THUD A fist rocked the door, and the light under it was blocked out by who ever was knocking. “Hey Chris, I saw you come in, thought I’ll gather up your tips” a deep voice he didn’t recognize called through the thin wooden door “Go away” Chris moaned trying to make almost childish voice should older “Nah, I think I’ll come in” the deep voiced mocked There was a crunch and the doors lock popped open. A man as tall as the door stood shirtless in the doorway, his black pants were near bursting over his thick thighs. Tattered remains of shoes clung to his long wide feet. The man’s stubbled jaw grinned and he bounced his furry pecs and rolled his huge shoulders.He thrust a plate full of dollars into Chris’ arms. “These are yours” He announced before folding his thick arms over his slab like chest muscles Chris looked at the full plate in his hands. It looked like it was growing, his hands struggling to keep a grip on the widening disk. But the plate wasn’t growing, he was shrinking. He dropped the plate. As it fell so did Chris’ height, his head span as he descended closer and closer to the tiles. He dropped into a ball and sobbed as the world grew around him, the man grew faster then everything and Chris watched as his dark haired head grazed the ceiling, hair sprouting on his chest and arms. The man moaned and flexed his arms out in front of him, and they both watched as a patchwork of veins flickered over the skin. The man’s zipper snapped and a swollen brief clad bulge sprung out. The man palmed its underside and felt the weight of his meat. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Jamie finished buttoning up Chris shirt over his newly grown pecs, the buttons could pop at any moment, but it should be able to handle the walk home. The pants were another story, he’d had to leave them undone, his cock and balls were a little big for Chris’ clothes now. His thighs kept them up though, and the hems of the pants were half way up his calves. Chris’ shoes were the main problems were painfully tight and after Jamie flexed his feet the toes burst out of the shoes tip, but they too should be able to handle the walk home. Chris himself was another story, the now tiny jock was sobbing in the corner of the bathroom. Jamie had draped his old shirt over the crying boy, even if it wasn’t in tatters it would still be too big. “When you decide to stop crying and go home the place is gonna need a clean” Jamie ordered as he checked out his jawline in the sink’s mirror Chris was sobbing a little louder, Jamie suddenly felt a little guilty. He’d only wanted to take a couple inches, cut Chris down from 6ft5 to 6ft2, but now Chris was probably 5ft2. Jamie was at least 6ft8, probably closer to 6ft10 now. He’d taken way to much, but that couldn’t be helped. Maybe he should give the little guy something to be happy about. As he ducked through the doorway and started to swagger home he called back to Chris. “I’ll let you keep your tips, you earned them"

The Labours of Hugh By Chip Masterson For the Seigneur de M. “My God, what is that beast?” My master and I stood in awe as we watched a lone man carry an entire butt of beer on his back and gently drop it in place. You could hear it slosh - a thousand pounds of beer carried as lightly as a side of beef! But what looked like a man – or the absolute ideal of what a man could be – had the face of boy no older than I. His downy face looked untouched by a razor, yet the width of his shoulders rivaled every champion assembled here, with helmet-sized shoulders and chest muscles as thick as a man’s torso. His bare arms dwarfed my skinny legs, yet his waist, carved into grooves like a cathedral column, was flatter than mine. His legs were covered with several boar-hides stitched together, and with calves pushing them up like a giant’s fists. As he turned to leave, I could see he was so thick from the front edge of his chest to the highest peaks on his back, that if I were to stand with my back against his arm, his torso breadth would my shoulder-width. That back! A dozen crevices zigzagged among the humped cobbles and stony plateaus, undulating and transforming like a landscape in a dream. I pinched myself – I was awake. My master, Sir Alain, a knight of the royal court, had come to Chateaulin bearing the king’s congratulations to Count Houel on the birth of his second son. The Count was throwing a birth festival before hosting the folkmoot, and my master had entered the lists. He was speaking with the Marshal of the castle, Sir Geoff. Sir Geoff looked amused by our gawking. “That’s Hugh, one of my boys,” Sir Geoff explained. “He’s about the age of your boy here.” “Impossible!” Sir Alain sputtered. “I’ve seen quarry workers who couldn’t rival him for size!” “I rescued him after his parents exposed him in the woods,” Sir Geoff continued. “I soon discovered why – when he became impatient for food or cleaning, he smashed his crib to splinters with his tiny newborn fists. They feared raising a prodigy, but in some way, I felt commanded to care for him – I guessed then it was the voice of God, but now….” He paused, and changed course. “He’s very lonely – the other boys avoid him. He spends a great deal of time hunting alone in the forest.” “The Count allows a boy in the chase?” Sir Alain sustained shock after shock, and he hadn’t even mounted his steed yet. “The Count and all the farmers are grateful,” Sir Geoff explained. “Since he began entering the forest, we haven’t seen or heard a single wolf – it’s been years now. He eats like several men, and I can hardly increase his rations in front of the other boys, so he supplements his hunger with boars and other things he catches with his hands. The husbandmen even give him a portion of meat at every slaughter in thanks for his protection. It’s almost pagan,” Geoff added with a wry smile. “What a remarkable warrior he would be,” Sir Alain marveled, “if only he had a better station, and not born for the front line. Robert Guiscard could take all of Italy and drive Emperor Constantine into the arms of the Turks. But perhaps the work of a beast is a more fitting utilization of his unique – talents – after all. Providence is never wrong.” Sir Geoff looked at him sideways with his arms crossed, and said nothing. Soon we were preparing for the joust, a new form where, instead of a mass charge around the field, two knights face each other one-on-one and try not to get killed. I was nervous as a girl, though only King Philip could beat my master (though “beat” might not be a completely accurate description of what actually happened). My master was called against Sir Geoff and the knights rode out, the sunlight dancing off their shiny mail hauberks. They leveled their lances, and at the signal, charged. Almost immediately a strap on Sir Geoff’s saddle broke and he wobbled – but through his narrow visor, my master must not have noticed. Geoff couldn’t brace himself for a thrust and my master glanced a blow off his shoulder that sent Geoff spinning through the air and landing with a hearty smack. Everyone rose in silent suspense. My master had already turned about, still not realizing what had happened, not seeing see Geoff’s boys rush to his aid, . He began his parade – but a spur only jostled him in his saddle – his horse neighed but didn’t move. He kicked again but his mount’s effort to spring only resulting in it being pulled back into the air. My master dropped onto his back in the mud. Stunned, Alain looked up and saw Hugh holding his horse by the tail, fury etched into his handsome young face. “A strap broke – it wasn’t far, you should have stopped!” Hugh yelled – a shocking breach of order. My master flailed but couldn’t rise. My fellow knaves hesitated at the sight of Hugh – only I had quickly sprinted over – so Hugh cheekily slid his arm underneath my masters and effortlessly pulled him to his feet. They were the same height – maybe Hugh was my age, but he was easily a foot taller. “Apologize at once!” Hugh demanded, pressing his chest forward and making my master step awkwardly back. The audience gasped again at these unprecedented offenses, the Count himself shocked speechless. Instinctively raising his shield against Hugh’s “well-armed” aggression, Alain glared past him, glaring at a helmetless Geoff, who winced as boys removed his armor. “Sir, control your boy before his unseemly pride proves fatal!” Whether the threat irked Hugh more than being ignored, I’ll never know, but I saw Hugh’s jaw clench. In a blur, his arm sprang into the air, parallel with the ground, and punched my master’s shield in a quick, efficiently lethal motion – as if my master were livestock for slaughtering. Alain stumbled backward, sucking for air – the blow had split his shield and the horribly dented steel boss had torn the leather hide, sliced through the mail and sunk into Alain’s chest. The leather hide covering the shield trapped his strapped arms – he couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t pull it off. He fell on his knees, stunned and bleeding. The boys huddled in terror so I pleaded with Hugh, “Help him! He’s dying!” Rage melted from Hugh’s face like a passing storm and he realized with alarm what his immeasurable power had done – and to a man ostensibly his “better.” Hugh grabbed each side of the shield and wrenched them apart, shredding the hide covering and exposing the boss. He pulled that out and blood spurted against his face. He put his fingers into the mail and ripped it open like rotten cloth, pressing on the wound to staunch the flow until my fellows braved his proximity and aided our master. The doctor rushed forward, relieved that he could bind the wound without having the remove the mail shirt first. Count Houel rose imperiously and called for Geoff. I couldn’t hear what they said, but Geoff kept nodding and Houel furiously pounded his fist in his palm. Hugh stood a few feet from me with his head down. I smelled something sweet and salty I couldn’t quite place – I closed my eyes and it tickled the back of my mind. Like a memory I haven’t lived yet. I’d secretly taken the twisted and torn boss, and now surreptitiously fingered it behind my back – feeling the shape of his knuckles where they turned it inside-out, the warped edge that had torn and hurt him it should be protecting. Fortunately it missed his heart and lungs – but it’s the kind of scar you want from battle – not from a boy’s fist. Geoff went to Alain first, confirming the punishment, then came over and placed his hand on Hugh’s shoulder. His hand rose and fell like a rowboat at sea as Hugh breathed. Hugh nodded and walked around the center rail. A riffle disturbed the female stands, back and forth like a cauldron being stirred. Two big yoked draft horses were brought out and I understood what Hugh faced. I dropped to my knee beside my master and said, “Please, my lord, please spare his life! I’m sure he can be reformed! I believe he can do anything, anything he sets his mind to.” Alain patted my arm. “We’re only frightening him with what will happen if he doesn’t learn his place. The ostlers won’t let him get hurt. Too badly.” As I helped him into chair, I heard Hugh say, “What about my other arm?” My balls tingled. I shifted from foot to foot as a strange irritation grew in my groin. Two more horses were brought up from the stable. Hugh stuck out his arms, releasing feral tangles of reddish-gold curls sprouting beneath them and spraying a mist of sweat. With ropes, the ostlers lashed Hugh’s wrists to the yokes. Then, to guarantee the horses wouldn’t bolt and kill him, their bridles were lashed to the corners of the court, with enough slack that they could apply a torturous pressure that would remind Hugh of his place in the future. The horses fidgeted nervously, nostrils flaring and hooves kneading the dirt. Houel made an angry speech about honor and respect, but sensing a universal impatience, yielded Alain the field. Alain lifted his hand, and dropped it wearily. The ostlers promptly goaded the horses forward. The ropes leading from Hugh’s wrists twisted, but so did the ropes between his wrists and shoulders – his arms that almost dwarfed the haunches of the horses themselves. Each horse took several steps before its hooves slid against the dirt. Alain nodded again and the ostlers urged the horses harder – but the beasts could only lean into their bridles until the effort made them shake. Hugh stared at a point in the sky, his torso rising and falling, his legs planted like oaks. The stable boys urged the horses forward, but their legs could only dig grooves in the ground. Hugh turned his arms slightly, aligning his heaped shoulders with the winglike flare of his back, and refused to move. A sheen of sweat dappled the burnished golden down covering him, and I caught that sweet, wild scent stirring me – though there was no breeze. I realized it came from under Hugh’s arms. The horses smelled something different – their nostrils flared and with a single shriek, they bolted – or rather, attempted it. Hugh panicked at the sound and tensed his arms – two horses stumbled onto their forelegs. Hugh bolted them all in place. His hands gripped the ropes with white knuckles and his unexpected restraint multiplied panic into terror. The horses threw themselves against the ropes, bucking and springing, but only rising straight up instead of forward. The teams danced side to side, seeking any advantage over the terrible weight that pinned them down – and Hugh, squinting, jerked the ropes tight and stopped their dancing. Hugh pulled his shoulder blades together, his flesh humping and squeezing together. This dragged the horses backwards, and they screamed and stamped the ground in fear and fury. Hugh bent his elbows, tightening his arm muscles, and sixteen hooves skidded toward him half a metre. His hands twisted and he gripped the rope farther along, pulling it toward him as his swollen arms turned purple with veins. Though only half-bent, the meat of his forearms pressed against his bulbous upper arms. The horses’ eyes rolled with panic, their mouths frothing and chomping their bits. Hugh closed his eyes and, swaying side to side as he absorbed the animals’ combined efforts, raised his fists higher and brought them closer together. The reins to the court posts tautened and, as the audience gawped in amazement, the horses themselves rose off the ground and floundered, writhing helplessly in mid-air. Hugh twisted the rope again and drew more into his relentless fingers, his chest rippling with dents and ridges as he fought to bring his fists together, lungs heaving. The animals twisted as they stretched between the posts and Hugh, their shrieks strangled by the pressure into hoarse gasps of desperation. Urine and shit poured out of each animal as Hugh’s inexorable hands reached for each other. A shocking crack of splitting timbers shook the stands as the posts gave way – but not enough. A groan like stretching leather was followed with a horribly wet FWWWWUMMMPPPPP! Hugh’s fists knocked against each other – because his arms had ripped four horses apart, spewing blood and gore over his rounded masses and into the crowd. The torn torsos flew towards him and clumped into the dirt while the head-half rebounded into stands. Some people screamed and ran but some couldn’t move, shaking or trembling. Flushed with victory, Hugh smiled broadly and quickly shredded his rope. He opened his eyes and saw with disbelief what carnage his arms had wrought. His skin glowing and his entire body heaved for air, a weird pride surmounting the grotesquerie. Young maidens surged from the stands, yammering and gazing devotedly at him. Pleased (and a little stunned), he flexed his arms and the girls caught their breath – a couple swooned. The bush-covered, deep round pocket that sank between his back and chest and smelled warm and inviting. One bold lass reached out to touch him, giggling, her fingers flying back as if burned. “It’s okay,” Hugh said. “I can make it bigger.” Hugh began pumping his arms, and muscles still swollen from the struggle turned from red to violet, with blue veins snaking under the skin. Each pump expanded his arms got bigger, until their round shape changed and a second peaked cap rose above the bulk. The maidens were all modestly attired – not a bosom in sight – and yet his presence, his heat, his scent compelled their hands to reach for him, regardless of propriety. Several of the girls swarmed around him, their fingers exploring his physique as they might a statue of Hercules. With a huge smile, Hugh dropped his arms and thrust out his chest, letting them uselessly poke their fingers into its obdurate surface, feel its edges and contours. I could see it dawning on their astonished faces how Hugh’s living flesh mocked the so-called armor of the knights. As their fingertips traced the arabesque of ridges in his back, I could also see a single pulse along one leg of his trousers. Hugh’s own eyes now brightened as the fawning girls sparked pleasure in his man-parts, which in turn shadowed his handsome face with anxiety. Despite his advance development, I guessed he’d always used his arms and legs as tools, never experienced a rush of triumphant potency flooding his limbs, then reaching beyond them and enthralling the opposite sex. The girls’ desire sparked lightning which flowed through his muscles to his manhood, forever fusing sexual arousal with displaying his body and exerting his strength. As if he were entirely a living erection. A savage bellow erupted from suddenly jostling shrubbery and in a cloud of dust, a massive bull appeared, its nose bloody where it ripped away from its ring. The girls shrieked and fled, many simply crouching behind Hugh. The bull faced Hugh and pawed the ground, challenging him. I heard my master say, “There’s something in Hugh’s sweat that disturbs stallions and bulls alike. It maddened those horses, and now our bull senses his dominance threatened.” Before anyone could move, the bull lowered its broad head and charged, lance-sharp horns swinging wildly. Hugh growled back and actually ran at the bull, bulging arms cocked and ready to spring. They met in a thunderclap of bone striking bone-hard muscle as Hugh slammed his chest against the bull’s skull. Each animal bounced back from the impact, the bull staggering with its tongue out. Hugh recovered first and grabbed the horns low. Digging his mighty legs into the soft earth, he shoved the bull’s skidding hooves back, away from the stands. But the bull seemed locked on his enemy – it swung and shook its huge head – or attempted to. Hugh grunted and rocked sideways; his shoulders turning ominously toward the beast, each like a head sprouting a thicker horn. The bull bucked his head until Hugh slowly, steadily, unmercifully slowed it into immobility. The bull pulled back and twisted its thick neck the other way – but Hugh twisted his wrists and raised his elbows, checking its progress and holding it tight. With a strained groan, Hugh forced the shuddering head back up. The bull tried to toss Hugh up into the air but Hugh’s grip held it like tar. With a war cry, Hugh exploded and slammed the bull’s head down against the ground. Angered, stunned, the bull leaped forward – but didn’t get far. Hugh’s shoulders sank back, soaking up the bull’s strength and then driving it back out against the animal with greater force. In quick bursts Hugh thrust the bull back; its set hooves trenched the earth which could not withstand Hugh’s power. Trapped in superior hands – Hugh utterly controlled the head, defying the animal’s every twitch – the animal’s eyes rolled and its bellows rose in broken cries of disbelief. The crowd cheered to see this boy-man tame a bull bare-handed – so Hugh grinned and raised one fist into the air … and contained the bestial violence with one hand! The crowd’s deafening praise drowned out the bull’s chest-rumbling fury, its rippling shoulder and haunches quivering, shaking – impotent. Squealing with rage, the bull jabbed its free horn a few centimetres at Hugh. The boy brought his free fist down on the bull’s head. A crack like lightning splitting a tree shocked everyone to silence. Hugh struck the bull again, his knuckles smacking into the densest part between the horns. The bull’s knees buckled and drool looped out of its mouth. One more THWOKKK and the bull dropped flat. Shaking out his hand while the crowd cheered, Hugh walked around and stuck his arms under the bull’s belly. In one swift move he lifted the enormous beast up against his chest … and then his arms pressed it up over his head. He dropped it once against his own stony shoulders and the bull guttered an exhausted wheeze. He lifted the pull again and repeated the drop, the impact making the bull’s head loll. Finally Hugh lifted the bull over his head and carried it around the arena, giving everyone a close look before he SLAMMED it against the ground, its legs splayed out like petals. The impact clattered weapons in their racks, and some of the ladies lost their balance. The bull lay perfectly still so Hugh slapped its face several times to see if he had killed it with one fist. The bull opened its eyes, saw Hugh, licked Hugh’s hand and rolled over on its back, its enormous male-part exposed, red and glistening. Hugh held both hands over his head again like a champ. Under the crowd’s cheers I heard my master mutter, “That bull will never stud again.” “Young knave,” announced Houel once ordered was restored, “God and Fortune have placed you in the lowest estate, in which your earlier offenses to Sir Alain are unpardonable. And yet your manly vigor and dauntless courage indicate a nobler origin, one in which your outburst would not only be unexceptional, but possibly demanded as a point of honor. With your parentage unknown, we may never know the truth – except through your honorable and obedient actions henceforth. I bid you to mind your tongue and temper, obey my vassal Sir Geoff in all things, and your God-thewn limbs may one day raise you to an estate commensurate with your valor.” The Count then turned to the events planned for after noon dinner, but my eyes were drawn to his left arm, which had disappeared behind his back. It appeared to be rhythmically twisting back and forth – or rather, in and out – as he spoke of Hugh. I doubt anyone else noticed – all eyes remained on the smiling hero, his cowed bull; Hugh’s innocent freckles belied a ferocity lurking underneath. I had to see to my master’s horse. Hugh led me to the stable, saying eagerly, “You need to clean the hooves, right?” he asked me. Before I could so much as unstrap the saddle, Hugh ducked underneath the stallion and lifted him over his head – this after so many exertions already! The horse panicked at first, but Hugh’s deep voice and commanding presence calmed it – I even saw the head of its maleness peeking out, as with the bull. My own trousers felt heavy and tight and I stood riveted before the column of living power before me. “Well, go on!” he said. “I’m hungry!” I grabbed a pick and indulged in cleaning each hoof without bending over – I barely had to move the stallion’s legs. When I indicated I was done – I had no voice – Hugh gently put the horse down and deftly unbuckled the tack, which he effortlessly carried, saddle in one hand and all the dressings in the other, to a bench and rack against the wall. When he came back, he asked if he could brush the animal instead. “I didn’t like hurting those horses before, or the bull,” he said sheepishly. “Something just came over me I can’t put into words – like when I’m hunting. I’m usually gentle here.” He wielded the brush like a pro, the stallion responding with shivers and affectionate nudges – one animal acknowledging the superior protection and care of another. I marveled, not for the first time, how some animals sense danger in his aroma, while others are soothed … and aroused. Hugh ate separately from the other boys, who swarmed around the young squire. The noble boy kept looking at Hugh with jealousy, but managed to captivate the other boys with tales of court love affairs and adventures. Only one boy looked our way … and he too looked jealous when he caught my eye. Hugh finished his portion of stew before I had barely begun, and fetched a bag full of preserved meats from his stash. The rough burlap had his name crudely embroidered on it, and while I finished my plate, the boy-man devoured several hunks of dried meat, teeth ripping the hard flesh apart with animal hunger. The morning’s excitement, and being both full and so near Hugh’s humid heat, made me long for a nap. But Hugh jumped up and dragged me with an iron grip out to watch the afternoon events. When prizes were awarded, everyone looked at Hugh as if they knew he deserved not only the top prize, but the whole array of jewelry. The winners too seemed abashed, even my master, who came in third overall and got a beautiful golden torque with three emeralds. I noted that, though decorative, it could fit his neck – but not Hugh’s. I had to attend my master at dinner and eat with the other boys, but when we were dismissed, I left them and went back to the stable. He brightened like dawn when he saw me – his new friend – and we went outside and sat on a stone in the cool evening. Without a word, he draped his heavy arm around my shoulders and I stiffened to support its weight. After watching the stars come out in companionable silence, he yawned like a lion and guided me to his lonely straw pallet, away from the boys on the other side of the animal stalls. Hugh dropped his trousers pulled off his loin cloth, sniffed it, nodded and put it back on. His virile member swung away like a pendulum – but most remarkably, it was utterly smooth. I had thought, given the maturity of his armpits, that he’d be woolly below as well – but that growth had not yet started, it seemed, no more than his beard. How poised between two worlds he seemed, striding them both like the Colossus of Rhodes. Unexpectedly, I felt fear sleeping next to a creature so powerful and, worried he might crush me in his sleep (or in a bear-hugging dream), I curled into a tight ball on the edge of the mat. The night turned frigid and a howling wind whipped around the stable. But Hugh burned like a fully-stoked furnace, his pale skin radiant. I heard him say, “Are you afraid of me too?” I rolled over and, shivering, told him, “I didn’t think I was, but suddenly I felt very tiny.” He looked hurt and said, “I never hurt little creatures. That would be terrible. I don’t even step on worms after it rains.” He extended his arm and I wormed closer, his heat like a heavy woolen blanket embracing me. My head was smaller than the pillow of his arm, not stony at all but firm and, in some way, compelling and safe. He saw the arch in my loincloth and looked around excitedly – “Did girls sneak in?” When he realized we were alone, he sighed and said, “Oh, you’re like Ralph. Ralph was my friend until the others turned him against me.” “Nothing could ever turn me against you!” I blurted out. “I would pledge myself to you as your vassal forever, here and now, if you could take me.” He giggled at the ridiculous thought but nestled happily against me. “You can touch them, if you want,” he said quietly. “I never used to like it when Ralph did it, but today it felt different – all those girls’ hands. I don’t know what I felt. I sure liked it though.” “You’ve never been with a girl?” I asked in amazement, assuming he’d plowed wide and deep. He shook his head. “My master told me the story of Samson, but the truth was, his hair was a symbol of the other thing that grows out of a man. And when he lay with Delilah, she took his essence – so he became weak, her weak slave.” I realized Geoff must have been afraid of what Hugh’s youthful exuberance might do to a tender girl – or grown woman, or sheep or cow. I said nothing and placed my hand on his belly, which ran beneath my fingers like hot bricks on a cooking hearth. I explored the heavy bulk beneath his smooth skin, not clench into stones but full of rumbling threat, rising and falling with his breath. It felt like a city street brought to life, the cobbles able to yield or harden at will. My hand crept up to where his chest rose up like an escarpment – though he lay flat on his back! – and spread like wings to either side. I could barely reach over his chest and rub the solid mound of his shoulder, and stroke the junction where his chest and arm came together like the stanchion of a rope bridge. He raised his forearm and drew my face in his humid armpit. Though I wasn’t nearly finished exploring his manly terrain, the heat and sweet pit-fumes and soft tickling hairs overwhelmed me and I shot my seed in several fierce spurts, my whole being jerking and one foot cramping up. I don’t know if he noticed, but he didn’t let me go – I think he’d already fallen asleep. My release, after the day’s events, left me empty and I too slept in his dark musky chamber. I awoke before dawn – Hugh was already at his chores. Duke Conan would be arriving this morning to begin the folkmoot (there’s quite a queue of gripers this time around, I hear), and the great entertainments would continue, including a troupe of acrobatic Prussian dwarves said to be astounding and funny. A post rider ripped by us and headed straight into the castle. Word went around that we were to assemble, and soon Count Houel mounted the rampart along with by Sir Geoff and the seneschal, an old man, called for everyone’s attention. “My esteemed brother-in-law, Conan Duke of Bretagne,” Houel announced, “shall arrive presently – yes, yay, quiet, quiet! – and he sends ahead not only his salutations – please, quiet! – but also a demand: William, Duke of Normandy, has taken Maine - yes, an outrage! – and our lord expects Normandy shall enter our lands as well, with or without invitation. Every able-bodied man of service age is to immediately prepare for a dress inspection with what weapons and armor he is able to supply, so that we may assess the state of our defense and prepare accordingly. We shall gather again an hour before dinner ready for war and our lord’s review.” He clapped his gauntlets and hell erupted as everyone leapt pall-mall to get home and dust/shine what rusty pieces of tin may decorate their mantels. The Bretons hadn’t seen much action in recent years other than border skirmishes here and there. Now local politics had now thrown Bretagne’s scent under William’s nose and he was chasing it down like the dog of war he is. For armor, the knaves generally tussled over left-overs and scraps from the smithies, but nothing fit Hugh. An older boy remembered an unusually stout squire many years ago who had left mail behind. It was out of style but I doubt anyone would notice that, if it fit. Hugh had to borrow a tunic from the blacksmith – he rarely wore a shirt of any sort. I spread tallow over the arms and shoulders of the borrowed tunic, trying not to linger in the all the rippling valleys and crests which thrummed like volcanos even while relaxed. I and three other boys then lowered the hauberk over his head. We could have restyled the hauberk, repositioning the giant belly links to Hugh’s shoulders where they were needed, but we hadn’t time. We jerked and yanked hung our entire weight off the armor, squeezing it around the outcroppings his his chest, shoulders and back. It hung loose halfway down his midsection and when he put down his arms, the sleeves didn’t quite reach the elbow. The coif fit fine over his head but was tight around his neck, and spread only partly as far over his upper torso as it was designed to. He started breathing fast in the constricting armor, the clinking links rattling with each breath oddly disturbing, if musical. He could barely move in any direction and looked as stiff as a giant wearing a doll’s costume. We watched in awe as the many war machines were wheeled out and lined up for demonstrations. Somehow, I thought Hugh more impressive than they. By the time Duke Conan arrived, all the pomp and ritual left us sweating in the sun, knees trembling from the weight of unaccustomed armor. A couple boys passed out, clattering to the ground, but Hugh looked fine – confined, sweatily pungeant, but unaffected by the heat. While reviewing us, Conan blinked several times when he came to Hugh. “You there, come forward,” Conan ordered. Hugh walked stiffly forward. “How can you fight? It looks like you can barely move.” Knowing he had erred in not previously providing Hugh with suitable armor in case of war – so rare was fighting in these parts – Geoff piped up and said, “He’s had a growth spurt recently and his armor is actually at the blacksmith’s for alterations--” Duke Conan silenced him, eyes glued to Hugh, and said, “I was speaking to the … boy.” He walked around Hugh, suppressing a sigh at the span from side to side, and front to back. He actually ran his fingers across Hugh’s upper back to test if this was some kind of prank. I don’t think he could tell where the steel stopped and Hugh began. Suspicious, perhaps, that beneath the tunic was steel casing of some kind – perhaps plated armor (Houel could hardly afford to fit his entire levy in plate – no one could), Conan came around and ordered Hugh to raise his arms. Then he cocked his ear, listening closely. Hugh raised his arms straight out the side. The links squirmed noisily as the hard surface below changed shape. The entire hauberk rode up several inches. “Now throw your arm back and bend it as if you were going to throw a spear.” Hugh got his arm half-way back when he got stuck. Conan exchanged a dark look with Count Houel and Hugh wiggled his torso, shifting several more belly inches up around his chest so he could move his arm all the way back. As he half-bent his arm, the links twisted and flattened around it. “Make a muscle,” Conan ordered. Hugh obliged. Hugh tightened his fist made his sinews expand, higher and wider. The mail exploded, shooting fragments of steel in both directions. The other warriors yelled and shielded themselves from the painful missiles. The Duke blinked and saw the pale reddened mound surmounting through the shattered mail, splitting the tunic as Hugh made it bigger … and bigger … and bigger still … and with a final straining grin, created two peaks and peppered us with several more links. Hugh looked eagerly at Conan for approval, but Conan simply stood there with his mouth open. So Hugh, thinking the Duke wanted to see more, held out his other arm and flexed it fully-extended. The chain mail tightened noisily while the meat of his back-arm jutted out … getting rounder … bigger … until it shamed the upper arms of most men and held the links at maximum tautness. His front-arm resembled rose in a long arch, trembling a moment against the links until they popped in the middle and ripped open, exposing the deep crevice between the two halves. Hugh then flexed his arm to match, possibly outdo, his other arm – and the mail and tunic obediently tore apart deep into the pit and over the dragon-claw undulations of his shoulder. He stood there, showing off his two beauties, and several women fainted. Female sighs and moans (or I should say, high-pitched sounds – not limited to females) sang through the assembly as he put his hands on his hips. At the same time, he moved his elbows out and widened his back in stages, left to right, left to right, so you could see his it from the front! The links chinked and jumped, the bottom rising higher and higher up his torso … and then Hugh bounced his chest muscles back and forth. Twisted steel shards blew off his chest and showered down on the crowd, often drawing blood. Even the Duke was not immune but nobody stopped him, watching him in rapt awe. Pulling his shoulders forward, he split the hauberk down the sides, tearing steel like old cloth. Strips of unhinged metal flowed off his body like oil. He kept on popping all his muscles until he reduced the tattered armor to old fringe hanging off the coif. For a moment, I felt a communal urge to spontaneously kneel. But Conan’s eyes shone avidly, and he clapped his hands together. He turned toward a pavilion set up for dinner and ordered, “Clear away the food and bring that banquet table up onto the dais. Right up there,” Conan pointed. As servants scurried, I heard him say to Houel, “I think we have a secret weapon against Normandy right here. I will test of his capacities.” Turning to Hugh, he intoned, “Young knave, come forward and show us your pith.” “Please, sire,” Hugh said, bowing and coloring deeply, “I’ve done enough lately, and it makes the other boys – they’re scared of me. I don’t want to scare people anymore.” “It’s not a request, boy!” Conan thundered. “You will do as commanded or face the consequences.” A nod from Geoff removed his objection and he nodded his obedience. Obviously the Duke hadn’t been informed about the bloodbath yesterday’s “consequences” turned into. It took four straining, huffing servants to trundle over the enormous oak-plank table over the uneven ground. While they struggled with the empty table, Hugh pulled off the coif, his arm nearly pressing against his face, and stripped off the remnants of mail and tunic. A flock of girls surrounded him, rubbing shreds of tallow-covered tunic into his white, perfect skin with a fervid devotion that would make the saints jealous. Others caressed his chest and several explored his back. Three or four of them gripped his arms and he suddenly raised them to his sides, the girls hanging off like pennants and giggling with feverish delight. He showed off how his arms charged shape, raising and lowering the girls with only the granite peaks. They swung back and forth but he stood solid as a Maypole. A couple dropped to caress his legs through the boar hides but that alarmed the ancient seneschal, who hobbled over with a loud bell and shooed them all away. The table arrived at the said, but the servants were too exhausted to lift it up the step, so four fresh servants came and heaved, fumbling, with all their might. Duke Conan grinned and commanded, “Everyone - remove your armor and pile it onto the table!” Geoff sent the dwarf troupe over to help, and as boys helped free their masters and shucked their own hauberks, the dwarves made a clever show of passing it along and, climbing upon each other’s shoulders, layering the mail and helmets with exaggerated artistry. The boards of the platform groaned and popped as the weight increased, and increased further. Just when I thought I heard the table complain as well, Conan called a halt, and ordered two goblets to be filled with wine and set at either end of the table. Reaching into a pocket inside his sleeve, Conan pulled out a small cross, gold with garnets and pearls. “If young … young …” (a servant whispered to him) “young knave Hugh can lift this table into the air without spilling so much as a drop of wine from either goblet, I will entrust his master with this, my own devotional cross, to secure his education and his future needs.” A collective gasp went up – knaves were not allowed to own gold. To have a small treasure in trust for the future was unheard of. Conan either doubted Hugh could combine vigor with dexterity and endurance … or he prayed for it with all his soul. Geoff caught Hugh’s shoulder and whispered, “Remember – when you move things quickly then stop, anything not tied down will keep moving. Slow and steady.” I could see Hugh reining his enthusiasm by the set of his jaw. He leapt onto the dais from a stand and surveyed he table from various angles. The platform cricked underneath Hugh’s feet as he circled – the links of armor tinkled and flared in the sun. His additional weight severely stressed a dais constructed to hold a dozen men. The table sported a pair of stout columns carved with spiraling grooves at each end, braced by an inconvenient trestle running the nearly three-metre length of the bankette. And undulating terrain of steel rose in layers above his head. The goblets were nearly brimful. The trestle would get caught between his legs if he straddled it – he’d never get it all the way. I saw now Conan’s strategy – not simply testing Hugh’s brawn, but his strategic thinking and adaptability. And any solution would require more than simple pith. He went around to the back so all we could see was Hugh’s bent, boar-hide covered legs under the table – the armor pile fully obscured him. He squatted and extended his arms at angles underneath. Then he straightened his legs: and the table rose steadily off the platform. Cries of awe and disbelief rifled through the crowd. The platform sank beneath his feet, the wood barking loudly. Widening his stance, Hugh seemed to drop his shoulders and press up from underneath – the towering steel swayed and flashed in the sun. He edged one foot in front of the other, boards sagging loudly from the concentrated weight. Finally, the bottom of his chest-shelf caught against the trestle. He took several deep breaths while everyone else held theirs. In one smooth movement, he powered the creaking table out and up into the air, slipped his head underneath it and shifting his hands to align with the corners for stability. A loud POPPPP! burst from the platform, which bounced dangerously beneath him. One of the builders caught his attention with a glinting knife, and pointed out where the joists were. With a grateful smile (me: jealous), Hugh slowly spread his legs until they rested on the cross-supports. Thicker trusses protested at such punishment – when it was covered with chairs and people, the platform had been silent, solid as the earth – but they took the stress. He whipped his back leg forward and the swirl of interlocking sinews that rose from his waist and twisted around each other to brace the expanse of his upper torso made the carved pillars at the table’s ends look puny. Plus, how such a narrow, flat and tightly-coiled abdomen could rise and moor the broad clustered beef that anchored his oak-branch arms … it defied belief. No blubbery “strongman” rival such power, such beauty. Sweat trickled down the gullies and trenches of his man-flesh, and his groiny-salted scent wafted insensibly through the crowd. Men stirred unwittingly, uncomfortably, some angrily, while girls and women both undulated, their own bodies responding to Hugh’s proximity by lubricating their gyrations and stirring their desires. I felt my own ass and cock discharge an oily moisture as I wiped drool off my chin. Hugh turned his hands backwards and pressed the table high. The mountains of armor shifted slightly but the tremoring goblets stayed dry. As the trestle scraped against his belly – I half-expected to see shavings fall away as Hugh’s serrations carved the wood as it rose. But of course, the ladies had massaged enough cow fat into his skin that it slid easily past them. With his arms extending above his head, his chest bulged out so far out that Hugh pressed his his chin against the top of one to brace his neck. It did not dent. With a final grunt, he thrust and locked his elbows, the bole-thick knotted arms fitting into his shoulder and chest musculature like a complex war machine. The trestle caught on his overhanging chest and bent like a bow in that final thrust – I dug my nails into my legs, afraid the wood would crack. But the squawking wood held and a cheer went up all around. All except Conan, who’s intent face sweated as profusely as Hugh’s, and whose hips jerked violently, his entire body rigid. But Hugh wasn’t done defying our imaginations. Carefully, Hugh stepped to the end of the dais and dropped down onto the first step, bending his arms to keep the table level as he descended. The stair steps squeaked until he got nearly to the bottom, when one snapped with a BANG! Everyone jumped and yelled in fear for him. But Hugh took it in stride, smoothly following the drop while scrunching his body to keep the table level. He dropped his other foot onto the ground, and walked through the last, splintering steps and risers as if they were made of straw. He carried the table directly to Conan himself. Tension gripped the crowd – what was he going to do? For a moment, I felt a flash of panic - he would hurl the table and its contents onto the Duke and pronounce himself King, defying all challengers. I even saw Conan flinch, his guards fidgeting between the call of duty and the sudden will to flee. But Hugh merely lowered the table back down so that it hovered above the ground, and turned it sideways so Conan could observe, and remove, the first unspilled goblet without having to move himself. Then he kept turning, showing Conan and the audience the rippling contours of this back, which tremored in a rapid tattoo from the strain but never flagged from their labors. My eyes were drawn to the perfect globes capping his hide-clad legs - I wanted to grab them and pull him against me – or hang on while he pressed himself into me. But I shook those thoughts out of my head. Hugh stopped again so Conan could take the second goblet and verify that not a drop had spilled from it either. The he completed his circle and, his arms and shoulders beginning to quiver, he lowered the table to the ground as if presenting it as a gift to his lord. Hugh came around, issuing a hot wind of deep breaths and looking as though he could defy Samson and Hercules together. He dropped down on one knee before Conan, his head sinking beneath the rising plateaus of his back. Hugh could barely control his quavering musculature as he recovered from the punishing victory – he vibrated with effort and stilled himself, as he had the bull. In a cracked, hollow voice, Conan said, “Riiii--” He coughed drily, drank half a goblet down and sputtered, half-choking. With wine staining his chin, he said in a tight voice, “Rise, s- … m-my boy. Where is your m-m-master?” Geoff stepped forward, beaming with pride and relief. Conan gave Geoff the golden jeweled cross, and made him swear an oath on the blood of the Savior that that treasure should be used only to secure a future fit for man who will doubtless perform feats of great renown in the service of his lord and land. Again he crowd cheered and Hugh disappeared beneath a roiling female sea. Water, oil, food passed hand to hand through the crowd to care for him where he knelt, and Conan, feeling singularly ignored, stepped over the Houel and called Geoff and Alain to them. “I had thought to test your war machines against one of the menhirs in that field over there – but I think that, once he has fed and rested, we should test them against young Hugh. That will give us a greater idea of how we could deploy him against the machines of our enemies.” Geoff clearly wanted to protest – both the test and the “use” of Hugh in place of a giant rock simply went too far. But it was not his place, and turned away and prepared to speak with Hugh about what he still must do to fully earn the jeweled cross. Myself, I felt Hugh would love dominating the biggest, mightiest mechanisms created by man – if he were fresh. The last few days, he expended more puissance than a dozen or more grown men. Any failure due to fatigue could make him very angry. And I’d seen him angry – Hugh nearly killed an armored knight with one controlled half-punch through his shield. Even a days’ delay would restore him sufficiently. Worried for him, and the rest of us, I tried to tote up how many men would have to pool their strength to accomplish Hugh’s many feats – the horses followed by the bull, then lifting a horse, then chores chores chores; and chores the next morning before bursting armor and slowly lifting a weight that nearly destroyed the dais he stood on. I could see men falling in exhausting, others rushing to sustain an enterprise for which Hugh required no assistance. I felt dizzy – such potency in one boy-man violated every sense of reason and nature. It was a breach in the world, some supremacy stepping down from the world beyond and stretching human belief to its breaking point. I remembered Jacob had wrestled with an angel, and held it helpless in his arms for three solid days before the angel was able to treacherously injure Jacob’s hip, and escape ignominiously the patriarch’s iron grasp. If men have lived before who could dominate even the angels of God, then perhaps such a man could exist again – not a pagan mythical Hercules, but real man, created by God … perhaps to test our faith. See if we would worship the miracle worker or the one true God who made him. I prayed for guidance through this confusion … but my hands weren’t the only part of me pointing towards heaven. “Jealous?” Alain said, coming up behind me, making me jump. “Ah! Sir, uh, n-no…” I stuttered. He gently cuffed my head and gestured to where Hugh had moved to a couch and was being fed and massaged (or groped) by a hundred hands. “Someday you’ll have the girls pawing over you too,” he told me. “But I’m afraid today, no man here can compete with this shining prodigy.” Relief flooded me – he never suspected who I was jealous of…. Mid-afternoon, people stretching from naps re-assembled for the siege-engine demonstration. The first to be wheeled forward was a new battering ram. “In battle,” Geoff explained, “the roof would be covered with wet hides. Thirty metres long, it weighs over a tonne thanks to the iron head. We can fit thirty men on each side.” “That doesn’t look like a ram to me,” Conan said, peering at the head. “It looks like … a fist.” Houel glowed with pride. “That was my innovation. It’s more frightening, isn’t it? Like the fist of God knocking on the door.” Conan rolled his eyes and said sourly, “I think if Hugh stands on that rise over there, he’ll be in a position to test this … fingered thing.” While the engine was wheeled into place, Hugh eagerly ran over and put his hands on his hips. The shadows his wide shoulders and prominent chest cast over his stomach made the cobbles look truly like a stone wall … except that, while he waited, Hugh flexed and relaxed the individual cobbles and rolled his stomach like sea swells. Stone walls can’t do that. Geoff instructed the soldiers, “Let’s start slow – just you ten.” They positions and began swinging the chains faster, and faster, and faster. The heavy SWOOOOOSH through the air conveyed the speed and weight of the ram and for a moment, I seriously feared for Hugh: that ram could knock a bull out more efficiently than Hugh had. It could kill the bull at one blow. Had Hugh met his match? Soldiers swiftly pulled the brakes away while others shove and the machine lurched forward with its thick capped member extending obscenely. An ear-splitting SMAKKKKK! made us wince as the iron fist struck Hugh dead center in his belly. Hugh flew off his feet and the machine lurched backward, shoulders yelling from the shock that rattled their arms. Hugh landed on his shield-tough back several metres away and rutted the turf landing. He immediately sat up and waved he was unhurt, shaking his golden curls to clear his head. The soldiers however hobbled off the platform, gripping their forearms in each hand, faced carved in pain. “That was fun!” Hugh laughed before leaping straight up onto his feet. His stomach blazed angry scarlet beneath his pale freckled chest. He mock-punched himself and clowned like it really hurt, but then he grinned and, stretching side to side and back and forward, assumed his stance for round two. The crowd bubbled with murmuring like a pot nearing the boil – particularly on the ladies’ side. The men gave each other dirty looks at how openly their women displayed such rampant desires – an impotent rage, given their rival. Two dozen new soldiers replaced the first crew and exchanged nervous glances. Once again, the chains swung back and forth, gathering force. It seemed to gather the crowd as well – people swayed back and forth in rhythm, their excitement building along with the ram’s speed. They unleashed the engine with a violent rush and I hid behind my hands. A thunderclap braced the air as Hugh flew higher and faster and farther than before. The log shuddered to an astonished stop and many of the soldiers screamed and fell to the floor from an impact their joints weren’t designed to sustain. Hugh cut a trench through the field and he sank from view. Yet he hooted merrily and we knew that the ram had failed to hurt him again. Yet Conan frowned – I don’t think he expected Hugh to sail into the air, however unhurt he may be. Had he imagined an impossible spectacle? Had he hoped to insert Hugh between a ram and a besieged gate in the hopes of protecting the fortress with Hugh’s stronger build? Clearly that wouldn’t work. I looked at Geoff, who wore the same worried look as my master: an unhappy lord is more dangerous than any war engine. Yet I saw clearly what Conan overlooked: a ram’s force is transferred into the gate or wall, which cracks and weakens as that force flows through it. Hugh did not absorb that force – he repelled it. That’s why the shock surprised the soldiers and why the ram wobbled backwards. It was that repulsion, force being echoed away from Hugh, that propulsed him through the air. A gate made of such material would be impregnable. Hugh alone possessed such material. Again, I shivered, thinking of a living man who could harden himself beyond any other rock or metal in creation. A living man who let me touch him. Cheers and guffs of awe rose from the crowd as Hugh marched back to the frustrated machine, clods of soil falling off the harder bedrock of his back. Geoff rushed over, whispering urgently to him - Hugh smiled like the sun and nodded happily. The soldiers looked frightened. And this time, the ram was fully crowded with men. The crowd mirrored the swinging ram with their bodies, thrusting themselves forward and back in unwitting unison and urging some maximum test which could release their pent-up excitement. The huge log sliced through the air with a deepening WHOOOSH that beat fast and faster until the moment of its release: it sped forward and Hugh unexpectedly leaped at the iron head with his chest. The KKRRRAKKKKK! rang like a church bell breaking apart. Hugh dropped straight down while the entire engine bounce swiftly away from him, the men behind it jumping out of the way and the rowers flying off the sides. Hugh didn’t move. A frozen silence held the crowd until, as a single being, it raced forward. Hugh looked up and sucked in a mighty draught of air, shook his head and looked around, blinking. The crowd stopped, as if the living thing might become a dragon or griffin. A stunned look clouded his eyes – then they focused on the engine rolling to a slow stop, listed to the side where something broke, and all the men crawling away in pain. He remained crouching, catching his wind. Conan himself inspected the state of the ram. A split ran the entire length of the log – it slumped unevenly in its chain sling. Even more amazing, the top two “knuckles” of the fist had flattened slightly, deformed to the sides. “That’s solid iron,” Geoff said, mouth gaping. He turned back to Hugh. Some soldiers were helping him to his feet – he was so heavy it took three to a side and one in back, and they braced their legs jointly against him like buttresses until he steadied himself. He kept jerking his head, the death-knell of the fist still ringing. Geoff kept waving his fingers in front of Hugh’s eyes but the boy batted them gently away and said, in a firm voice I hadn’t heard him use before, “I’m done with having things run into me for a couple of days.” “The trebuchet is next,” Geoff said worriedly. “Shall I--” Hugh shook his head again with a sly grin. “I have different plans for it.” Geoff stepped back, momentarily alarmed by the forthright assurance Hugh now assumed. He walked around in circles, stretching and massaging his crimson chest. I pined to do it for him … and would have done, in front of everyone, had my master not sent me on an errand. His order felt like a dagger in my stomach. I ran quickly, gave a dispatch to a courier, and by the time I got back, the battered-ram had been trundled away and the trebuchet wheeled forward. Two men on each side grunted as they turned the wheels that ran the tackle and slowly raised the mass of iron-bound oak blocks into the air. Hugh wasted no time. “What are we going to do to this?” Conan asked eagerly. “You’ll see,” Hugh answered arrogantly - which seemed to excite Conan rather than offend him. Conan stepped back as Hugh walked behind it, put one foot on the arm resting on the ground, and signaled the drop. The weight crashed to the platform and Hugh roared like a bear as he bore down with his foot. A legging seam burst open, exposing a bovine thigh – and the pivot rod cracked. The entire beam smashed through the machine with an explosion of splinters. Hugh picked up the end and wrested it free, jostling and battering the entire machine. He placed the end of the arm across his shoulders behind his neck and, draping his outside arm over the top, raised the entire thing up parallel to the ground. Then he wrapped his other arm over it . . . snorted like a bull . . . and pulled. His back opened wide like angel wings, his stomach muscles meshed like the gears of the apparatus itself, and his arms filled every space with their compressed, pulsing meat. We heard him breathing heavily in the silence. Hugh’s face contorted in angry concentration, and his elbows dipped. The short length behind his neck actually bent, issuing a CREEEAAAK SNIK-SNIK-SNIK SNIK SNIK FRACCCKK! The heavy bar split open like a monster’s toothy maw. His outside arm pulled and then twisted the broken as Hugh broken bole until it tore away. He pulled more of the bar across his implacable back. One deep breath and again his face strained, pitting the obdurate ridges of his vein-studded neck. His arms too snaked with blue veins nearly tearing through his buttery red-splotched skin. The solid oak held out as long as it could until Hugh’s arms compelled it to shiver, quake and surrender. He kept going, snapping the bar into pieces without rest, his breathing hoarse, his tender boy’s face a mask of resolute destruction. By the time he fractured the last bit, his grimace bore a terrifying resemblance to some fairy-tale demon. Slivers and chips of wood dusted his hair and body from oak exploding under unbearable pressure. Beside him, a stack of logs ready for the fire. “Magnificent!” Conan declared, unable or unwilling to stop the gushing females who pawed his dauntless, bloated arms and reverently dusted splinters from the many crevices in his back and lodged in his hair. I got a tingling sensation in my groin that he’d tear the engine apart with his bare hands with so much admiration – and indeed, he jumped onto the counter-weight and, clinging to a cross-bar with his toes, grabbed an iron strap in each hand and pulled. The iron bent up a bit but stopped. Hugh jerked them hard and broke them free, happily bending them up and back. He dropped to the ground, dragging the tortured iron with him. Then, inspired, he dragged the freed lengths toward each other and began wrapping them around each other in a giant knot. Then he yanked two fresh sections loose, working the cold metal like it was toughened leather. Showing off, he held an arm rigid and folded the metal back over itself by simply turning his wrist, zig-zagging in with tight switchbacks. At the same time, his other arm rippled as it twisted the flat iron into a spiral. Conan coughed loudly and Hugh turned, glowing in the sun and gleaming with sweat. He had saved the most trying test for last. Hugh slugged down goblets of water and gnawed on some fragrant apples, which mixed a sweetness into his rapturous he-sweat as secretions from different body areas ran and mingling together. “In war, we have not time to rest, no time for refreshment,” Conan declared. “When our enemies lay siege to our cities and hurl boulders into our walls and through our houses, how shall we respond? I want to crush them – literally.” He turned to Hugh, his bony arm outstretched toward the sacred grove. “These standing stones have weathered every winter, every storm, since time immemorial. Centuries of raging wars have neither injured nor moved them. Some say they were planted in the time before men, by Titans or Giants. Some say only Druid magic could have raised and sunk them into the fields where they mystify us to this day. Surely no mortal men could have moved such behemoths. “Young Hugh, your task is to do what neither man nor nature has ever done before you. Uproot one of those ancient monuments so it may be used to smash our enemies and their war machines. You may choose your victim – but your choice will be noted.” Conan led the way; a crowd of men tried to raise and carry Hugh on their shoulders, but the ponderous hulk proved impossible to lift and manage, so they simply surged around him like a pack of hunting dogs. Hugh scooped up the nearest two damsels and carried them like bouquets of flowers in the crook of each arm. Their dainty hands tried to squeeze the unyielding marble of those arms, twisting their hips as they did so. None of our stones are as big as the ones up north, but the field still looks strikes me as a giants’ graveyard. Hugh naturally went to the largest one, shoulder-height but a little wider than he. I wondered which weighed more, and nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity – an absurdity only to someone who had never met Hugh. While Hugh walked around the stone, inspecting clefts and lichen, Conan whispered to Houel, “even if he can only loosen it, we should be able to pull it free with a team of oxen. And he could easily build a gigantic trebuchet to launch these stones. Perhaps even a conveyance to move to them.” I shuddered. Hugh carried the focused, appraising air of a land agent, factoring dimensions, materials and weights that hobbled the imagination. Without ceremony, he dug his feet in and fell upon the weathered stone, oppressing it with focused forces beyond anything nature herself could muster. After so many efforts, Hugh drew from a deep well of virility that seemed never to run dry. The crowd tensed along with him as we waited for the monolith to give. No one doubted it could outlast the onslaught of Hugh. Never relenting the pressure he built up, Hugh managed to slip his hands, his shoulders, his legs into different positions, seeking a stronger purchase, groping with his senses toward the spot already growing weak under his duress. Worrying the monument from every angle, wearing out its grip on the earth, Hugh bullied the half-buried boulder until he found the place where Creation would buckle beneath his will A breeze ruffled through the grass … but when it passed, the grass still shivered. “Look!” I pointed. As every eye turned away from the hero and toward the ground, it humped and split. The stone listed slightly into the breach and several people fainted along with it. Hugh didn’t let up but churched the ground behind him plowing into the monolith. A hump broke upward between his legs as Hugh silently commanded the monument to lie prostrate before him. Conan choked as the yawning field disgorged waves of loam displaced by the foot of the stone being impelled up into the light. Hugh stepped back for the first time, shaking his throbbing limbs so the muscles tossed back and forth like small animals. He spent a few seconds catching his breath, and the swung himself under the leaning side, grappled for a hold, and pulled with a heavy grunt. The earth vomited in distress as Hugh dragged the stone towards the level and mashed its face toward his feet. The menhir listed drunkenly now but something deep intruded on his progress and held the stone. Hugh vigorously tugged and wiggled the tonnage, breaking the obstruction and relinquishing its hold on the monolith once again. Hugh’s arms engorged in undulating ridges, spurs and peaks. His shoulders bulged nearly as big as his head, their carved fingers digging like claws onto his arms and back. His concave belly shifted right and left, directing dominance from his legs into his arms and rippling around his frame like wind-blown sheaves of wheat. Finally, with one crippling shove, Hugh wrenched the monolith free of the earth, crammed its face into the dirt as the entombed end blasted through in an eruption of soil and small rocks. When I shook the grit out of my eyes, I could barely believe what I saw – nearly as much had been buried as stuck up from the earth. It was twice as big as it had looked, the unearthed portion was dark and wet, with clumps of mud sticking to it like the lichen huddled all over the exposed half. Nearly twice as big as Hugh, it seemed impossible to move it any further, except – maybe – to roll it down a hill (were the ground not flat). Wasting no time, Hugh walked around the far side, knelt and reached one arm over the width of the fallen warrior of time. With a HUP and a HRRRGGGGHH, Hugh leaned backward, bending like a bow. His stomach clenched in sharp relief and long rods rippled in his extended forearm. The rock rose a few centimeters but then fell back into the turf. Undeterred, Hugh nearly bounced it back up into the air – but this time, the side closest to him slipped and fell. The fact that he could lift it at all froze everyone in a tableau of wonder. He wrapped his rock-strewn arms around it and pulled, his neck bulging and face purple, but only managed to lever it off the ground and shift it sideways a bit, farther away from its empty grave. He reached underneath and drove his legs down as he raised the end as far as his knees, kneading the ground to press an advantage – but again the weight proved too much, and he had to drop it. He called for water and wide-eyed, trembling girls brought him several bowls, along with fruit and a hunk of roasted beef. He gorged himself, allowing the girls to lick the grease off his fingers. He rubbed them against the surface of the stone, peeling off layer of flint and coating them with dust. He walked around to the middle and tried to raise it laterally – it hinged up half a metre or more before it slipped free. Hugh’s face clouded with annoyance and I feared his angry fist might turn it into more manageable pieces – but he redirected his impatience into his arms. Reaching one arm over the top, he grunted and craned it a metre into the air – several people experienced spasms of a certain kind – and held it teetering while he tried to shift the weight for the next stage. But the tonnage resisted his power and bobbed toward the earth. With a strangled scream, Hugh stopped it for a moment – held it – but had to let it go. Setting his feet farther apart, he heaved yet again, grappled the monolith higher, his lower arm bursting its skin as it braced the burden, dragged his shoulders back and, staggering once, wrestled it onto thighs – where it balanced, its immensity sinking him into the soil. Hugh took three breaths, rocking back and forth with each one, then leaned further back and levitated the stone onto his chest, tottering around as the menhir fought his dominance. He sidled to a halt and paused a moment, dwarfing mass trapped by his inexorable arms. His face screwed tight with strain, Hugh pressed the under arm up, its sinews bunching and trembling, while the arm over the top actually flipped the rock over – a move that almost went wrong, had his legs not danced and buttressed him to stop it. Then his legs began to shake violently and he sank beneath the stone which pressed against his face. The crowd burst with burbling concern that he might be smashed under the giant rock, his hubris leading to a predictable end – and I was afraid if it brought him to his knees, he’d but unable to continue. But … it didn’t. He didn’t kneel. He waddled toward stonier ground, looking like an ant carrying not a crumb but the entire loaf. Hugh’s knees began knocking as he fought to stand, the perfect globes of his ass quivering in time – but he worked his hands around to the underside even as he fought to discipline his rebelling limbs. Taking advantage of what inertia he’d created, Hugh wasted no time resting but pressed the rock above him – his body near parallel to the ground. Barking ferocious groans I could feel in my breastbone, he manipulated the granite giant up as he straightened his back and fought mightily against his own shaking arms. With hoarse, whistling war-cry, the god-man-boy straightened up and pressed the menhir up until his elbows locked and framed his terrible visage. He continued bellowing as he trapped the stone mountain in the air above him, mocking its desire to reunite with the earth. He lurched several steps before stopping at the end of the softer ground and sought Conan – rooting the Duke to the spot with his eyes. He stayed that way until Conan buckled at his hips and dropped his mouth in something like awe. With a snarl, Hugh then let it drop behind him and flexed his bloated arms until the cramping made him shake them out. Once more the crowd poured over him, massaging and rubbing him – a crush Hugh might not have been able to sustain had not circumstances turned against us. His sweet odor took on a pungeant manly stink, which the air caught and carried back into the forest. Before long, a grisly roar answered Hugh’s call from the forest. My master said to Geoff, “I thought you said Hugh had scared off all the predatory animals.” “He has,” Geoff replied. “There must be a migration.” “Bears don’t migrate,” Alain said, “And that was a very angry bear. Again, a mere whiff of Hugh’s scent has driven some beast to fury.” We got a first glimpse of the foaming, shambling beast, and Geoff said with restrained panic, “Not fury, but madness,” Geoff concluded. “That bear is mad. Its bite is deadly – even a scratch can afflict a man with madness.” People stampeded for the city walls once the bear blundered sideways out of the grove and shook deadly froth from its drooling maw. Despite being clearly spent, Hugh immediately strode to face the monster – and we all felt riveted by the same thoughts – if he were too exhausted, Hugh would be no match for the bear – killed or, worse, infected. A rabid Hugh could lay waste to the entire county. The afflicted are routinely strangled before the madness takes hold, but who, or what, could constrict Hugh’s throat? The archers ran back to the castle to fetch weapons but Hugh advanced alone. “No! Hugh, I forbid it!” Geoff ordered, but Hugh responded only to a higher calling, his fatigue replaced by renewed vigor. He ripped the shredded remains of his leggings and codpiece and tore away even his undercloth, one naked beast facing another. Women tried to turn away and close their eyes, but they had lost the will to resist the sight of Hugh's golden glory. Palming two large stones, he bounced their weight – likely as much as a strong man could struggle up to his chest – and then hurled first one, then the other, in quick succession, his arms like trebuchets – only more powerful. The bear fell, struck on the head and shoulder … but rose up on two legs, now truly angry. Slinging ropes of poisonous slobber across the field, it roared and fell clumsily to all fours, lighting into a lopsided charge on legs it seemed unable to fully control. As if it were under the spell of a sorcerer’s apprentice. Hugh ranged from side to side but the bear turned and faced him, always advancing. The hero crouched on titanic legs and launched himself into the air, rising for several metres and sailing over the bear like a bird of prey. The animal stood and swatted at him but Hugh flew too far and too fast, causing the unsteady creature to fall onto its back. As it struggled back to its feet, it turned so Hugh could leap and plant himself like a spear onto its vast shaggy back. Hugh tried to wrap his arms around the giant’s chest but could barely reach – his fingers touched but couldn’t grip. The bear roared and shook violently, but Hugh’s fingers pierced the dense fur and his legs clamped over its waist. Then Hugh shook back. Savagely throwing his body from side to side, Hugh forced the bear to stumble sideways several paces before it plant its claws and hold onto the ground. He shook the bear again but it lowered itself to the ground – so Hugh threw his shoulders back with a strained grimace. And overcoming the bear’s fury, bent its spine back and its forelegs off the ground. Hugh cinched his arms and legs – the bear bellowed in pain and confusion, outmuscled by something small yet heavy and brutally irresistible. Hugh shook the bear again until its head wove back and forth, and then he arched his back and slammed that head into the ground. A look appeared in the bear’s crazed eyes – a moment of clarity, a primitive instinct for escape. The beast fought against Hugh’s strength with the renewed energies of something now fighting for its life. As Hugh’s shoulders tensed, prying the bear’s up again, it fought him, bucking and shaking, matching him strength for strength. Feeling the iron spine defy him, Hugh squeezed until the bear screamed. Every move Hugh made in directing the bear one way, the bear countered, twisting and scratching the other way. Hugh’s face contorted as his arms labored against the sturdy ribs, his fingers grappling for a link. The bear writhed violently but Hugh closed his eyes and with a hissing sound, linked his middle fingers. The beast wore stark fear on its face, its chest compressed, its hips being wrench by the horrible contortions of Hugh’s legs. I held my breath – I couldn’t tell what Hugh was trying to do, besides hang on. Slowly, by pitching his back fiercely, Hugh guided the bear to the stone he had just conquered. His eyes sharpened frightfully, and with his teeth bared and an almost-evil smile, he arched his back again and clumped the bear forward with his own indomitable torso. With claws clutching helplessly at the soil, the bear realized – as much as it could – it was losing. When Hugh coerced his captive abreast of his trophy, he flexed his entire body, lifting the bear off the ground and slamming it back down. He did it again, and again, each time gaining a greater bounce until with clenched grunt, Hugh actually flipped himself onto his back on the stone’s surface, the quarter-tonne bulk pronged above him. The animal’s legs waved in the air but Hugh’s back spread out beneath him, bracing against each terrorized thrust of the mindless brute. The boy-man had even crushed its roar down to a steady wheezing moan frothed out with its spittle. Hugh’s legs trapped the bear’s hind limbs and pulled them out and away, immobilizing them. He arched up onto his shoulders and bent that iron spine – and squeezed. Hugh shook the bear to the left and clamped his hands more tightly to its chest. He jarred it to the right and a sickening pop came out of the bear’s lower quarters. The wheeze now carried a bone-chilling whine of fear. Hugh tensed ferociously trembling with impossible effort, bending the bear's steely ribs in on themselves. Hugh’s rising growls drowned out the animal’s eerie whistling. Now gripping his wrists, he shrank the bear’s chest further through barbaric will. His arms, buried deep in the fur, rubbed slightly back and forth: their knots, harder than bone, fractured ribs. He rattled the bear like a doll, draining the dregs of its vitality with relentless determination. Its swimming forelegs slowed, and slowed further, and then merely waved as if blown by the wind. Once the bear’s legs stopped moving (though still twitching), Hugh’s legs straightened out, further disjointing its hind legs and hips. The trapped victim emitted a thin, high wail, its tongue lolled out of its mouth, a harsh gurgling sound coming with it. Hugh could have finished the bear off right there, but something terrible had been ignited in the man-boy’s chest – and further below. Hugh rolled off the stone and plopped the weakened beast onto the ground. Arching his own back, Hugh brought his legs forward and clamped them against the stove-in ribs. Pulling the bear backward again and trapping its lower torso with his own, Hugh gyrated up, his ass dimpling and clenching, his manroot thrusting through the densely matted fur. It seemed to pulse with every sharp crack echoing through the circle. His eyes feverish, the shocking obscenity of the tableau held everyone in a merciless grip. Hugh wrangled his arms up, never releasing their unbearable pressures, hands reaching for the animal's head. Gripping the rocklike skull, Hugh's chest rose like twin peaks as he stopped the bear's thrashing. His hands crept down, his bulbous forearms immobilizing the bear's head. The entire crowd buzzed with tension that ratcheted higher as Hugh linked his hands underneath its head. With a grim frown, Hugh straightened back up, fighting the bear's final desperate spasms. With a final choking splutter, the bear’s head rose in Hugh's puissant grip, its long long neck tremoring. Stretching. Tearing. Hugh’s invincible lance jousted with the arched neck, his hips slowly digging up and down. But the bear's neck was too long - even with the skull pressed into the valley of his chest, the neck did not break. He'd either have to be work his way backwards ... or ... My knees gave way weakly as Hugh's sculpted arms sprouted veins along their extreme curves. Hugh pushed the head up in a harrowing repeat of his menhir feat. A thin shrill shriek bubbled out of the gaping maw, big eyes suddenly blank with a resignation more terrible than its death throes. Hugh's elbows inched up, his hands rising to stomach-curdling wet PWOPP sounds. Hugh stretched the neck unnaturally longer even as the bear's tongue seemed to crawl out of its throat. Blood sprayed from tears in the victim’s hide, the skin rending in garish jagged slashes. Hugh grimaced as he grappled the bear's body down – down and away. Hugh pushed his arms towards the sky with renewed gristle. Through the ragged flaps of skin, I could see thick cables of muscle stretching and then rolling up into tight knots. Soon I could see the white bones floating like beads on a broken chain washed in red. His virile member erupted, spewing ropes of viscous pearlescence through the hot fur and into the ragged wounds. His legs gripped the body firmly, riding it with bucking hips and plowing himself violently against the dying beast. Finally, with a triumphant bellow that shook the stones themselves, Hugh extended his arms all the way up and sheared the bear's head off its jerking, dying torso. The torn neck fountained blood, mired with Hugh's own jetting essence streaming up through the coat like grappling ropes. Hugh’s seed-fountain continued even as the blood slowly ebbed, soaking the coat in his milky pith. He shuddered, his naked muscles rippling and drumming fleetly beneath his papery white skin, and making a final grunting cry, Hugh stubbed himself out in eye-flickering bliss. Hugh paused a moment, chest heaving with deep satisfaction, until the echoing pleasures slowly Faded. Shaking sense and awareness back into his golden-curled, blood and semen-caked head, carried the still-lethal skull, dripping blood and froth of Hugh, to the gaping pit that once housed a menhir, and dropped it in. He went back to the corpse, grabbed a loose hind-leg, and pulled it over to the grave, kicking it in. Then, in desperation or derision, I couldn’t tell, Hugh tugged the stone, bit by exhausted bit, until its immeasurable tonnes covered the tomb. Hugh turned and raised his fists over his head, his heavy arms bent and throbbing like the empurpled mast rising above his navel, shaking its own glistening fist. But only briefly - he sank down, hands on his knees his shoulders sinking and his back sagging. Then he was lost as cheering soldiers surrounded him and, in a joint effort, raised him to his feet and half-carried him away from the slung saliva and gore, to a grassy rise shaded by the setting sun. The women broke through the soldiers with kettles and bowls of cool and steaming water, shouldering them away like an invading army. Over their heads I heard him mutter “meat,” and platters passed hand to hand from the high table directly to him. Sating himself, he fell into a deep slumber, oblivious of the hands massaging oils into his muscles. Soon the jealous guards rallied and drove the women away, circling him and facing out to keep so many hungry eyes and hands at bay. Geoff had excused Hugh from the rest of his chores that afternoon, so after I finished mine and got something to eat, I returned to his pallet. He was fast asleep on his back, lying flat on his back with only a modest cloth around his loins. The air near him shimmered torridly, and sweat beaded on my forehead and under my arms. I quickly doffed my togs and draped myself over his mounded form. He stirred slightly, his barrel chest rising, but otherwise I may as well have been a light blanket. Arousal chases my fatigue away, and take advantage of last night’s offer and stretch my limbs, pressing my body against his muscles – firm yet pliable at rest, their density defied my penetrating fingers, but I could press and caress them, trace the expansive flesh as it narrows and gathers into steely tendons. His blood pulsed slowly through them, perfectly balancing his other humors and restoring his incalculable vitality. My own loin covering stirred as I rubbed against the serpent sleeping between the pillows of its generative nest. The serpent rose slightly, stirring waves through Hugh’s body which undulated and stretched in sleep. His mouth pursed and opened slightly and, overcome with desire, I gripped his upper arms and slid myself up onto his chest. My own member lay erect in the alley that ran down the center of his cobbled abdomen – it fit perfectly, caressed and massaged as those muscles rose and fell as he breathed. From the barrel-crest of his chest, I reached down and placed a daring kiss on his thick, languid lips. Still asleep, his mouth accepted mine, rubbing against my lips. I nuzzled the down around his chin and let my tongue slip out, seeking his. His tongue also sought mine and they caressed one another and explored each other’s hot, wet den. My own drool flowed strongly, lubricating our fun, and a distant, dreamy smile invited me to display greater passion. I sucked his lips and licked his teeth, and when I felt his hands land lightly on my ass, I shuddered in anticipation and a little fear: if he rolled over and didn’t wake up, could I support his weight or would I be crushed or suffocated by Hugh’s ponderous magnitude? I stretched my arms over his and wrapped my legs over his thighs, encouraging him to stay put but offering my nether orifice for his rising python. He gripped me tighter, so tightly I winced and bit his lip by mistake – his eyes opened drowsily and for a moment, we gazed at each other with his hands clasping hindside. Just then a sharp laugh startled us both (and several of the horses). Hugh raised his head as I turned and saw a buxom young maid with a startled look on her face. “You boys are incorrigible!” she said a little loudly. Hugh rose up on his elbows and sloughed me off to the side, where I adjusted my loin cloth and blazed bright red. She paid me no mind. “All rested, hero?” she said saucily, tugging coyly at the lace that held her bodice together. “How would you like a real woman to satisfy you. I promise it’ll be better than some smelly bear.” She spread her knees and pressed a palm into her skirt with an open mouth. Heat kindled in Hugh’s eyes and his groin snake bobbed up through the folds of his cloth. She walked backward toward a stack of hay bales in the shadows. Forgetting me, Hugh rose – like a mountain growing before my eyes, or a dragon taking off from its lair, his body simply kept going and going and going until he was up and around the corner. But Hugh stopped short, looking uncertain. “Come on,” she cooed. “No one will care. You’re a man now. You do what you want.” Hugh fidgeted against the cloth restraint binding his eagerness. “My master said I would grow weak if I did it. I don’t even, you know, do myself. Not as often as other boys.” “You’re no boy, and no man is your master,” she chided. “Not even the king can rival you. Besides, we all saw what you did to that bear. Are you weak now?” She threw a horseshoe, which he caught. Spreading the fingers of that one hand around the prongs but not taking his eyes off her, Hugh squeezed – and crushed the metal shoe as if it were clay, until it snapped in two. Yet he didn’t let it go – gathering both parts into his palm, he folded them in half – both at the same time – until the outmatched steel could bend no further and broke again. His clenched the pieces in his fist and mashed it again, his forearm filling with rocks that scrubbed against each other. A metallic tinkling seeped out between his white-knuckled fingers. When he opened his fist, shattered fragments of steel rained to the floor, unidentifiable as having ever been a forged horse shoe. “Guess not,” he replied with sheepish excitement. The maid had watched wide-eyed, bosom heaving and mouth opening and semi-closing in excitement of her own. Though she massaged both her breasts and released them, she stiffened and shivered as if fulfillment had ignited without any external stimulation. Her eyes hooded with breathless hunger. “Then, what are you waiting for?” she half-dared, half-begged him huskily. That was it. His loin cloth ripped around his vibrant erection has he flung it away and pulled her to him, immediately entering her. She gasped as his girth stretched her open more than ever before, but he didn’t rush to the finish line. Hugh’s natural instinct for lovemaking took over – building, teasing, pulling back, slowing down then racing, all the while withholding his essence. His manfunk wafted through the stable with a delirious mixture of wild musk and protective warmth. Her eyes rolled up into her head – however vigorously he slid in and out, he was gentler, more controlled – stronger – than any man she’d been with. And … he made her wetter than ever before. Mixed with the leakage from his powerful organ, they slid against each other like eels. She clutched at the hay behind her, her nipples like craters as another pleasure wave washed through her. Again, instinctively, Hugh let her subside and then whipped her up until the storm broke in her several times before he unleashed his own deluge. Hugh’s arm shot out and grabbed a shovel, the blade warping in his grip. He shot into her with such force she instantly came again, biting her lip to stay quiet. His ass dimpled and writhed for so long I realized I would get no sleep tonight – perhaps never again. My own midsection rocked as I spurted in envious sympathy. I massaged myself dry with my under cloth and was about to return to the pallet, when I saw it – he wasn’t pulling out. He was clearly still turgid. Still filling her. Still thrusting. She smiled hungrily, grabbing his ass and pulling herself against him. He slammed into her hard this time, again and again, jiggling her breasts and body, shattering her composure and driving her to wild abandon. She thrashed and ground herself against in rhythm against him, whipping her loosened hair from side to side and moaning gutterally like a cow in calving. In full control and awareness of their danger, Hugh smoothly grabbed a leather work glove and gently shoved it into her mouth. She chewed it like it was dinner. He came again, dimpling longer than before but sluicing in and out and spilling long tendrils of cock drool. I stayed crouching, hardening again and barely aware of the pain. And as I suspected, he didn’t quit. More like he was still getting warmed up. But the maid began to flag, endless pleasure addling her brain. She shuddered periodically, ranging between an empty smile and a tense incomprehension that only Hugh’s persistence could dismiss. Her sopping hair lay lank over her shoulders, her breathing hitching from his power and then siking into a heavy, coarse wheeze. He came a fourth time and she moaned in mindless pleasure and pain. His seed spurted down and ricocheted off his pendulous ball sac … as if she were full. For the first time, he pulled out completely, his knob painted her belly and breasts with his man-lime. A steady stream ran down her legs slowly, like freshly-rendered glue. His sword waved challengingly, throbbing with purple ardor. His exhales came fast and heavy and his red eyes burned with feverish intensity. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do but then, face enlivening, he lifted her into the air, spun her around and did what I had so longed for: took her bunghole like a rutting beast. The pain shocked her awake and she screamed into the glove. Her torso impulsively clenched around him but hadn’t the strength to expel the invader. Sliding her up and down on his breed shaft with one hand, he pulled out the glove stuck his fingers in her mouth, attacking her defenses on two fronts. Her panic retreated and as they joined into a single oscillating being, his body commanded hers to banish pain and feed greedily on pleasure alone. Obediently, her body obeyed and her tension fell away like the tattered remnants of her clothing. He bobbed her up and down endlessly before clenching his ass and releasing another eruption of manly lava. Feeling his own control fight for command against greedy, voluptuous gluttony, he wrapped one arm around a stud and squeezed. His arm crunched into the wood – splinters broke out around it. He squeezed pitilessly as the ecstasy of another tidal wave rolled out of him and utterly submerged her. Solid oak creaked and split loudly. Finally he eased down, left the poor oak post alone, and rested his back against a high stack of hay, holding her up with one hand and simply staying still. But staying within her. Not softening. Not at all. The crippled beam groaned as the weight of the roof shifted into its weakness. The groaning excited Hugh and he slowly began plumbing her for a sixth time. Something broke in my mind – a relaxation, an acceptance of such unbelievable strength and stamina. A kind of faith moved my heart that I never felt at mass. My body responded by releasing another white libation, globs of it billowing forth before the ecstacy could catch up – it rushed in late and quaked me to my soul, submitting my life to this thundering, earth-shaking deity before me. Hugh focused intently on her, careful not to bruise or injure her as he ground her back and forth in semi-circles. Her limbs flopped randomly, their motions aimless and simply sparking off stray bolts of joy her weaker frame could not contain. She shuddered again as another convulsion gripped her, and her seizure gripped him and undammed yet another flood of his virility into her guts. Not only the stream down her legs increase, now from two willsprings within her, but her belly began to bloat. Hugh looked as though this premature release – stimulated by her and not commanded by him – had cheated him. He stayed in and bucked her a little roughly, making her jaw chatter loosely, until he pasted her insides a seventh time. Ignoring how her rib cage expanded in his grip, Hugh plunged deeper with an urgency he hadn’t shown before. His bull-balls slapped the back of her ass as he chased the shimmering bliss he caught so easily again and again. His back stiffened and spread apart and the overflow of another cascade splattered his nutsack and thighs. Her eyes opened with bemused surprise as she belched and … smelled Hugh in it. The maid passed out completely and slumped on him, twitching and jerking like a dreaming dog. His face glowing with greed for a vein of gold that ran deeper and deeper into the mountain, he kept excavating for it. A series of short hard rams made her burp his salty musk, made her breasts flop along with her arms and nodding head. The hammering sped faster and faster until his cheeks became a blur. Then suddenly he stopped and mashed her down as if he were trying to snap his manhood off. But that prong stood up to him defiantly and rebuffed his efforts. Within the frenzy of his ninth fusillade, a heavenly smile pierced his face like a sunbeam after a storm eliciting a heavenly smile to spread across his face. The sun banished the storm and he slowed down to a steady strum. Pinning her against a wall of hay with only his horn of plenty, he put his hands on his hips and wiggled them, watching her bob like a puppet. Hugh didn’t like her leaving him alone like that - so he leaned forward, placing one fist on either side of the hay beside, and supported her with It while staring intently into her face. His presence penetrated her dazed mind and dragged her back to consciousness – while he stayed still, spreading and pulsing with her, her own grinding movement down below betrayed her return to paradise. He began slow rotations, lazy figure eights that hardened him until his balls hitched. Then, again, he became … perfectly … still…. But she shook with warring tensions and seized with unhinged rapture. He grinned with masterly hauteur and withheld himself until she scratched violently at him and seemed she’d shake herself apart if he did not feed her. Still he waited until her panting desperation opened her eyes – he locked them to his – and she seemed to wither and bloom at the same time within his gaze, her mind turning inside out beneath the fullness of his revelation. Still he waited. Still he grinned. Finally, drool spilled in rivulets out of her mouth, followed by a plaintive mewling bordering on despair. He nodded, slowly, over and over as he felt her identity disintegrate – and then he released the hounds of war. Her chest inflated from the inside, a strangled cry of incredulous surrender rose from her gaping mouth, and her breath, redolent of his salt, filled the air and made the horses rustle and neigh. His own fecund odor returning to him from inside her kept his demonic prick sharp as he tunneled even deeper into the mountain for that skein of gold. His muscles flinched - he had ridden himself raw – and now every motion exploded in his brain. A mere normal man would pull away, flee, his brain melting. But Hugh was made better. He carried her gingerly to a worktable, sweeping clean its surface with his arm, and laid her down. He stood upright so that the pressure bore down on his virility, and though it bounced her up a little, it soon settled down. Standing there, hands on his hips, his massive chest rising and sinking like storm billows on the open see, he defied every extreme sensation – he refused to withdraw, he would not pass out. Hugh willed every impulse into submission, and wrung the savor out of each moment. They could not gang up on him. They could not overcome his control. His chest rolled triumphantly as he disciplined his own rebellious passions and directed them to serve him one more time. The lightning from this battle shot into her. She twitched wildly, arms and legs spasming and battering his ram inside her. He conducted the unbearable pleasures until he chose to let them go. Throwing his head back, he barked and howled, reached up and grabbed a roof joist: and each time her leg kicked or her hand flicked, his fingers sank deeper into the splintering oak. He swayed there, his head shaking slowly back and forth and veins pounding in his neck. With a moan of pure satisfaction, his shoulders twitched and his hips swiped her back and forth across the table. He froze and braced his legs and ass. An eleventh milking surged into the maid. Her body swelled, her neck fattened – and his puissance gushed out of her moaning mouth in driving bursts. My body wrenched a third helpless time together with gripping alarm. I felt immobilized but somehow I shouted, “Sir!” as his seed trickled out of her nose and not only from her ears, but also her eyes, like pearly tears. Hugh’s eyes whipped open and he turned and glared in mad fury. I fell back, my cock now heaving drily, and mustered all my courage. “She needs a doctor!” He looked back and for the first time saw the swollen main, his viscous ichor still seeping from her head. He pulled out suddenly and a bucket’s worth of slime whooshed out and all over his legs. He lifted her in one arm and, with the other, battered a hole in the side of the stable. He ran into the village, naked and not only erect but still foaming like … like a mad bear. He woke the doctor by breaking his door in half. The doctor clutched his blanket in terror, then saw the girl and jumped up so Hugh could place her on the bed. Though he was no longer in her, the overflow continued to leak out, spreading slowly over her body. All the time, though her eyes fluttered pure white, the smile never left her lips. The doctor pushed gently on her belly and semen oozed from several openings at both ends. He turned around and, seeing Hugh’s still-drooling plowshare, started in amazement before recovering himself. “Young man, I’ll take it from here.” Tears stained Hugh’s beautiful features. “I didn’t mean to … will she be all right?” “I’ve never seen anything like this,” the old man confessed. “So long as nothing inside her has burst, she should pull through. Though I doubt she’ll ever be the same. You should prepare yourself however: I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a father, several times over. Such prodigious … vigor … might likely plant a prodigy of seedlings in this young girl.” Turning away, he muttered again, “Like an Irish rabbit.” Hugh seemed stricken so I gripped his unyielding arm tight as I could. “Come, you should rest again. And I can’t carry you if you fall asleep stark naked in the street.” Hugh shuffled out and embarrassedly propped the shattered boards door back in the doorway. Overcome with a surge of relief or joy or something, he grabbed and lifted me high into the air, shook me wildly with an ecstatic grin on his face, and draped me over his shoulder like a potato sack. I could feel the slimy slap of his dick against my feet as he trotted down the moonlit street. My hands explored the battlements of his back under the guise of holding on: the central pennant-poles, the squarish berms of annealed flesh over each shoulder blade, and the ramparts that spread to either side. The feeling his shoulder rippling back and forth against my belly made me come again but, having nothing left, it hurt more than anything. I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Back in the stable reeking of fornication, he flung me onto his pallet and stared down proudly. “My friend!” he said, beaming, chest flaring. Then, treating me more like a pet than a friend, he lay down beside me, enclosed me with his irresistible arm-mass and tucked my face into the deep pit of foggy musk between his chest and back. He fell to sleep immediately but my heart raced like a hunting hound. His bushy hairs tickled my forehead and soon his peace encompassed me. I dreamed I was running beside him and wagging my tale forever and ever. THE END

Hi all, Here is the latest story where Michael Fitt is cast as the super-hero Super-Fitt. In this one he helps out Santa Claus. It's Christmas so I went for cute! Merry Holidays! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Super-Fitt has many fans, but there was one he did not expect to contact him the day before Christmas Eve. And there he was, at the North Pole standing in, yes, Santa's workshop. Santa Claus didn't really look like he was depicted in cartoons. He was well-muscled with a close-cropped salt-and-pepper beard. He smiled to Super-Fitt as he entered. “Thank you for coming, Michael,” said Santa Claus, who had the privilege of addressing Super-Fitt by his first name. “There really was no one else on Earth who could help me.” “It's an honor, sir. What can I do for you?” “My reindeer all have come down with a terrible case of reindeer flu. None of them are able to pull my sleigh. I have to be able to fly around the whole world to bring presents. There is no technology that can replace them.” Super-Fitt smiled as he realized what he was about to be asked. “But tell me,” Santa added, “are you as strong as eight reindeer together?” “Santa, I'm stronger than eight thousand reindeer!” “Can you fly fast enough to go around the world in twenty-four hours with millions of stops?” “I could fly to the moon and back in less time than it takes to tell you about it.” “Can you fly through blizzards if necessary?” “Not only that! If necessary, I can blow a blizzard into oblivion! I'm reluctant to say I can do anything, Santa, but pretty darn close to it!” “Then you are the man for the job! Super-Fitt with your super-might, won't you fly my sleigh tonight?” “Where do we go first?” “I travel from east to west, like the sun. As soon as we get my sleigh loaded, we head to the other end of the Earth: New Zealand. It usually takes the elves about two hours to load the sleigh.” “You didn't have Super-Fitt to load your sleigh before,” our hero grinned. Bouncing his Super-Pecs, and waving his arms, Super-Fitt used his telekinetic powers to gather up all the presents and load them in Santa's sleigh at super-speed. “I may have to call on you every year, Michael!” Santa chuckled. “I guess we have a little time. Care for a tour of my workshop?” After a tour of the workshop, it was time to leave. “I think I need to sort of look the part, Santa.” Again bouncing the Super-Pecs, Super-Fitt caused jingle bells to appear on his skimpy costume. Then, giving Santa a wink, antlers, like a reindeer's emerged from Super-Fitt's forehead. “Jolly good, Michael! Let's go!” The Super-Fitt-powered sleigh headed to New Zealand and then to all the countries where Santa customarily made his stops, flying up and down each time zone so that he arrived between midnight and two o'clock in every place he visited. The trip was not without incident. While flying over the North Atlantic Super-Fitt noticed a ship headed for an iceberg with his telescopic vision. “Santa, we have to make a detour. It won't take a minute.” Keeping the sleigh aloft with his telekinesis, Super-Fitt again bounced his Super-Pecs and caused himself to expand to gigantic proportions. He then lifted the ship with one hand and pushed the iceberg away with the other. Setting the ship back down in the water, he returned to his normal size and rejoined Santa in the air. Finally making his final stop in Hawai'i, Super-Fitt turned back north to fly Santa back to his workshop. Upon returning to the North Pole, Santa thanked Super-Fitt and picked up a very special Christmas stocking. He handed to Super-Fitt and said, “There is no doubt, you have been a very good boy this year.”

Hope U R all having and are going 2 have a very Merry Christmas..? Heres the last 3 chapters of my festive mg story.. Part 3 Jacob awoke groggily to find himself hanging upside down. For a moment he was too dazed to know what had happened. Then, as his faculties cleared, he was sharply brought back to reality.. He had been in a car accident. The car had landed on its roof and Jacob was upside down in the car and still buckled into his seatbelt,which had almost certainly had saved him from being catapulted out of the the car through the shattered and now missing windscreen. He turned to look at the driver, the guy who had given in to giving him a lift. Daniel was also still hung in his seatbelt upside down, but he seemed unconscious.. Blood trickled from a deep cut on his head closest to his door and the roof on his side had caved in considerably,squashing the door,blocking access. Jacobs first instinct was to unlock his seatbelt to try to attend to Daniels potentially life-threatening wounds. When he managed to free himself he slumped with a thud onto his upper neck and shoulders and suddenly cried out in agony as a sharp pain ran through his right shoulder. Jacob tentatively propped himself up the right way,wincing as he felt more sharp pain through what could have been a dislocated shoulder or even a fracture to his collar bone. This was'nt the place to diagnose injuries just yet. The ice cold wind was blowing the snow stingingly through the broken windows as Jacob focused himself into extracating Daniel from his seat and getting help.. He fumbled to release Daniels seatbelt and eased the older guy from the drivers seat as best as he could.Daniel groaned and stirred slightly as it seemed evident he was drifting in and out of consciousness.Jacob gritted his teeth,trying to use a quick burst of strength to cut out his own pain as he hauled Dan from his seat and through the smashed passenger window.''Don't worry buddy.. Gonna get you some help. You''ll be good in no time''. Now outside of the vehicle for the first time Jacob tried to get his bearings in his winter cloaked surroundings.The car had come to rest on its roof down a sharp slope against a tree, having turned over several times down the steep incline. Jacob could hardly see too far,such was the aggressiveness of the wind blowing the falling snow into a near horizontal sheets of icicles that stung at Jacobs face. This weather was beginning to turn into a blizzard. Jacob swung his hood over his face and then hauled out his bag and used it as a pillow to prop up Daniels head,and covering his face with his own scarf,trying to use the car as much as possible as shelter from the howling white-out.With a bit more digging,Jacob had found in the trunk,Daniels packed bags and pulled out another coat and another scarf. He covered Daniel and used the scarf as best as he could to tend to the nasty cut on Daniels temple. It seemed as if Daniels head had hit the side of his drivers door as it caved in during the cars roll down the slope and Jacob could'nt tell just how bad Dans head injury was.. He needed medical help immediately. Jacob tried his phone but there was no signal. Cursing,he nearly threw it in anger into the nearby snow but thought better of it and shoved it back into his coat pocket.Looking up through the near blinding snow, he thought about clambering up onto the road to call for help from a passing motorist.. ''Hey buddy..be right back.. You just hang in there..'' Jacob snapped off a thick bare branch from part of the tree that had fallen of in the impact of the car against it, and using it as a prop,he tried to scramble up through the deepening snow to the edge of the road.Tired and aching from the pain in his shoulder,he reached the top and stumbled into the road.For as much minutes as he dared spare leaving Dan, he stamped up and down the road calling for help and waiting anxiously for a car to come by.Finally frustrated, he slid back down to the car and to Daniel and lightly tapped him on his cheek.''Hey buddy.. You still with me..?''Daniel groaned and moved his head slightly,and muttered. ''Jeff..?''In Dans semi-conscious state,he could see Jeff looking down and smiling at him.. Jacob was at least this bit relieved that Dan was still holding on,but he still needed help.. He shouted at the top of his lungs for help..And for a few minutes all he could hear was the howling of the wind and the crwaking of the trees. He gritted his teeth in anger.''Not like this.. Not fucking like this..''He did'nt want to end up frozen to death in the wilderness,..like Jack Nicholson freezing in the Maze at the end of The Shining..! Suddenly,the wind seemed to die down just that slightly for Jacob to hear what sounded faitnly like bells jingling.This first sign that someone,..anyone, could be out in this white-out could potentially mean survival. Spurred on,he jumped to his feet and tried to focus his ears and eyes on the sound..Then,..through the snowfall he could see a misty image that gradually became clearer as it drew nearer.''Hey..over here...Help..Help.!'' A shape of a sleigh drawing through the snow greeted Jacob.. It was drawn by a single reindeer,harnessed in leather that was adorned with the bells Jacob thought he had heard.On the back and guiding the sleigh was a figure wrapped in a thick tawny brown fur or fur-like coat..a hood lined with grey-white fur or wool drawn over his head and hiding his face, and his trousers of similar tawn colour and fur. Even his boots seemed thick and woolen..Like this fella was used to the outdoors life in harsh wilderness. The sleigh pulled up close to the crashed car. ''Whoah there Blitzen..Good boy'' the stranger said apparently to his reindeer as if it was a pet. Jacob for a moment was rightfully overjoyed that help had arrived.''Hey mister, my friend needs help.. We crashed and now i think hes badly hurt.. We need to get him to a hospital fast..!'' The hooded stranger stepped off the sleigh,..itself covered in furs and a deep red woolen cover, and trudged through the snow over to where Daniel lay prone. He bent down and slipped his hand out of the thick brown gloves he wore and gently touched at Daniels wounds.The,turning to look up at Jacob, he slipped off the hood he was wearing to reveal the face of an old man who looked wizened with age.He had a thick white beard and wispy white eyebrows and a weathered and slightly reddened face that overall, to Jacob he seemed to look so calming and warm.''My boy,I'm afraid that this snowstorm has downed communications and getting him any help up here might take some time. The weather will close in as soon it will be nightfall...'' ''But you gotta do something..He could die for Christs sake..!'' Jacobs moment of glee faded somewhat. ''My cabin is nearby.. It has a welcoming fireplace,some needed warmth..and i have a gift at helping those in need.. Don't worry my boy.I will take care of him..Of both of you till the morning breaks..'' Why was it for some reason that Jacob felt at ease with this guy..? ''Come boy, lets help your friend onto my sleigh..'' Jacob helped the stranger load Daniel onto the sleigh and wrapped him in the furs and the red cover. ''On Blitzen..'' And with that command the sleigh set off through the snow. Part 4 The snow was falling heavily by the the time the old Outdoorsmans sleigh, carrying Daniels prone body, had reached his cabin deep in the pine forest.''Come help me take your friend inside'' prompted the old man to Jacob who for a moment stood dithering.. Together they propped up the board Daniel lay on and carried him into the cabin..''We'll put him on the couch by the fireplace to keep him warm as he recovers..'' said the old man as he nudged the wooden door open and nodded in the direction of a wood framed low couch cushioned with soft woolen pillows and earthen coloured woolen blankets that was placed in front a large stone set fireplace with a high mantlepiece and several thick logs already burning welcomingly in the wide fireplace. The old outdoorsman and Jacob carefully lay Daniel down on the couch and covered him with the woolen blankets..''Do you have a phone in the cabin so we can at least try and call for some rescue.. Daniel might have some kind of bad head injury.?'' saidJacob as he scanned the large interior of the cabin looking for any sign for a link to communications to the nearest town. He could not readily seen any.The kindly old man spoke up ''I'm afraid with this blizzard howling,it may not be till morning until we can seek help for your friend here..". He stood up after making Daniel as comfortable as possible. He could see the worry in Jacobs handsome face.''Don't be worried. I'm certain that he will pull through with my help. I have, lets say, a certain magic about me that may aid my tending of his wounds that i know are not as grave as you fear..'' Jacob fidgeted uncomfortably over Daniel. ''How can you be so sure..?'' ''Oh don't worry..I have a had plenty of time on this earth to gather some good enough medicinal knowledge.....a few centuries at least..!'' said Nick as he headed away through an adjoining door to another room,but hesitated before passing through to glance back at the boy "Oh,my name is Nicholas by the way.." Jacob did'nt click to Nicholas' last few words.he just shuffled slightly,answering his and Daniels name clearly distracted with worry,to pay attention fully to what Nicholas had just said. Finally relaxing a little,his eyes had wandered off Dan for once as he looked around the cabin,noticing boughs of evergreen holly spotted with ruby red berries,and trails of cut Ivy and Fir branches hanging along the inner eaves or hooked onto the pine log walls. The cabin itself felt welcoming with its natural light wood furnishings and plaid red and green textiles and curtains,a plush fur-like rug positioned between the caramel upholstered three-piece suite placed around a low oak trunk coffee table...In all, a traditional family cabin in the forest.. Dan stirred and groaned,drawing back Jacobs attention, just as Nick returned from the kitchen with a red cloth draped over his shoulder,carrying a tray with a clay bowl full of steaming liquid and what looked to be a clay mortar and pestle to which he set down on a small stool next to Daniel. ''Whats that..?'' queried Jacob, as Nick dampened the cloth in the warm water,the steam wafting up to Jacob and the smell reminded him of spices.. ''Oh, its a remedy that will fix any injuries he might have taken to his head..'' Nick dabbed the cloth over Daniels forehead,then folded it it and lay it like a cold cure remedy across his forehead,propping Dans head up on a pillow.. Dan responded with a groan in his semi-conscious state. ''You think that some kind of homeopathic medicines like this can cure him of a brain injury, just like that..?'' said Jacob finding Nicks simple home medicinal deeds a little incredulous.. 'Nick just smiled ''Have faith my friend''. Jacob watched with uncertainty as Nick pulled out a small cloth bag tied with string from his inside pocket,unfastened the string and gently poured the powdery contents into the 'pestle'..cup and then poured a little of the bowls liquid into it,grinding and stirring it up with the mortar.. For a moment,Jacob thought he could see the powder glitter like stardust but shook his head. Nick gently lifted Daniels head and eased the cup to his lips,trying to stir him enough into a moment of consciousness for him to drink the contents.''Come on buddy, drink up...come on,...this will make you feel better'' Daniel weakly opened his mouth and took several slow sips of the water before Nick rested his head back. Jacob glanced out of the window hoping the snow had lessened. It had'nt one bit.. But through the blizzard,towards the shelter where Nick had placed his Reindeer,he could see another one nuzzling against Blitzen,and for a brief moment he thought he could see a faint red glow near its nose. 'Fuck,...i must be tripping.!' he thought, rubbing his eyes before looking out and now just seeing two ordinary Reindeer in the shelter. When he turned around,Jacob nearly jumped out of his skin.. Nick was standing right next to him,smiling..''I have given your friend a something to help him heal,not just his physical wounds but the wounds to his emotions as well..A little sleep will help him out'' He followed Jacobs gaze out the window across to the the deer shelter.''Oh thats just Rudy,..he helps me find my way on certain foggy nights.'' Jacob suddenly remembered Nicks comments about 'centuries of experience..!' ,and a thought came across his mind.'No, thats just rediculous..'' he said as he shook the thought out of his head.Nick just smiled at him as he let Jacob realise just who he was..''No..no, this is just too stupid.. You can't be...'' Jacob was placing the small things together.. A jolly,white bearded old fellow called Nick,in a sleigh drawn by a Reindeer called Blitzen,..and another called Rudy...RUDOLPH..!'' Then as the realisation dawned on just who he was speaking to, Jacob stumbled back,almost tripping over the armrest of the couch Dan now lay asleep.. ''You can't be him..!'' he said,wide-eyed. Nicks face seemed suddenly radiant and his eyes all twinkly in the light of the roaring fire. ''Who would you call me..?'' ''Santa Claus..!'' said Jacob,mouth agape like a catfish. ''Santa,Father Christmas,Pere Noel,Kris Kringle...St,Nicholas..whatevers suited best..!'' said Nick.. ''What are you doing way out here in the forest..?'' said Jacob,trying to find some kind of rational answer for this amazing situation. ''Christmas Eve is not for a few days. Even i'm entitled to a little R&R..!'' ''But if you are such a magical being,then why can't you just make this storm stop and whisk us on your flying sleigh off to the nearest town..?''Jacob said,sobering up to this strange reality. ''Its not as simple as that..I do'nt really control the weather..Why'd you think i'd ask a Reindeer with his 'nose so bright' to guide my sleigh on foggy nights..?'' They both glanced out of the window across to the deer shelter where Rudys nose was now shining brightly red..affirming the unbelievable situation Jacob was now in.. ''I'm just as stuck here til morning as you,my young friend.'' And,reading Jacobs face he added before the boy said anything. ''..And though i can heal people of most wounds, i cannot heal them just like that..'' Nick emphasised the last word by clicking his fingers..''Healing someone takes a lot of my energy..'' Jacob started pacing up and down. ''This is just too freaky..!'' Nicholas moved to stop Jacobs pacing by gently holding onto his arm. ''..But there is something i can do for you both..'' Jacob glanced down at Daniel then at Nicholas. ''What..?'' '' I know your heart is heavy with the lack of love and companionship. You have felt betrayed by those you thought loved you dearly. But if he finds it in his own heart to love again,you will find him a dear and committed partner..'' Nicholas glanced down at Daniel and Jacob knew.. ''But we have only just met.. And this guy is dealing with the grief of losing someone he loved.. What am i to him..?'' ''You can be the one to make him feel love again,to heal that sorrow.'' Feeling a little awkward, Jacob spoke what was on his mind..''But he is not really my type of guy..'' ''Oh,but once he finds his way,he will become 'your type'.. But love is not all based upon looks..Its whats in the heart.'' Jacob smiled. ''I stopped believing in you a long time ago. In my childhood i did not havethe greatest of times at Christmas..'' ''I know Jacob. When you stopped believing,there was no room for me..And for my part i was foolish to neglect you.. If there is a gift i could bestow upon you i will gladly offer it..?'' ''Well, theres one thing i've wanted.. What i've been training to become..''Jacob said furtively. Nicholas smiled knowingly..''You are training to become a top class bodybuilder. Bigger muscles...hmmm, not a gift i've often if ever granted, but,lets give it a try....'' On A Cold Winters Night : A Christmas Tale. Part 5 Daniel eyes were closed but yet he could see bright light through his lids..With a stretch of his body and a yawn he stirred into consciousness,slowly opening his eyes,and at first unaccustomed to such bright sunlight which greeted him.. Although his hearing was the first sense that kicked in... to the sounds of birds chirupping somewhere close by.When his sight finally cleared he took in his surroundings.He was laying on green grass beneath a huge old English Oak tree,feeling a gentle warm breeze blow across his exposed chest,..which soon sharpened his senses when he realised he was lying almost naked except for a pair of sky blue boxers. As he sat up he became aware of someone else sitting just behind him.Looking around at first he could not see the person,such was the brightness of the sun behind him,but as he let his eyes focus,when he saw just who was beside him his face went ashen white and his jaw fell agape.. ''Ah, Danny-boy, enjoy your little siesta..'' There,looking back at him with a radiant smile was Jeff,shirtless and revealing a smooth slender gym-toned torso.. With the bright sun haloed directly behind his head he looked like an Angel..! Daniels heart lept into his mouth and he felt like a dam was gonna burst full of tears. ''Jeff,but but...'' Daniel began to stutter,reeling with mixed feelings and emotions,hoping what he was seeing was'nt just a figment of his imagination.. Jeff quietly shushed him with a finger against Daniels lips,one hand holding a glass of champagne from a picnic laid out before them. ''Come now Daniel, my love...'' but Jeff could'nt finish... Daniel threw his arms around Jeff and drew him into an unbearably tight hug,causing Jeff to spill the champagne. ''Jeff, i've missed you so much it hurts..'' Daniel was unabashedly crying now,sobbing against Jeff bare muscled shoulder.. ''Everything will be alright now Daniel'' Jeff replied,placing the glass down and reciprocating the hug. ''You died.. Is it this heaven...Did i die..?'' Daniel,full of emotions just sputtered out questions ramdomly and rushedly to Jeff. Jeff hushed him. And they released each other from their embrace..Dans eyes never left Jeff,scanning him from his handsome face to his alluring bare torso.. ''Whats ahppened to you, you look so irresistably sexy and more toned than i could ever remember you..?'' Jeff just smiled,passed Daniel a glass of champagne and peered out from the Oak tree on the crest of a hill where they sat,taking in the wide open richly beautiful countryside around them..birds singing in the air and in the trees,butterflies fluttering across patches of flowers around them..the smell of pollen wafting in the air,...a church bell gently ringing from a spire that stood high above the red roofed cotswold stone cottages of a village in the near distance,nestled by a winding river glinting under the sunlight. ''You remember this place Daniel. Much Markham,England.We came here the summer..'' Jeff paused,smiling back at a beaming Daniel, who took a sip of the champagne,..before continuing.''...the summer before i died.'' He could see the smile fade on Daniels face.''Then are we dead... This IS heaven..Am i finally with you.?'' Jeff cupped Daniels face with his hand and then gently stroked the side of his face lovingly.. ''You are not dead.. I brought you here to this one place from your memory that held so much happiness and romance to you..'' Jeff paused again,noticing Daniels eyes begin to well up.. ''You were in an car accident during a harsh winters blizzard. There was a young man with you in your car but he is alright. A man of kind heart and warmth had found you both near the wreck and he took you to his cabin to tend to the wounds you have..'' Dans face showed signs of disappointment that his time with Jeff was not to be, and tears rolled down his cheeks.'' ''It is imperative that you find the will to carry on and fight to survive..'' Jeff said with such passion. 'But i want to be with you. Fuck my life.. My life is with you..'' Dans arm reached up and swept around and drew in the surroundings. ''Here is where i want to be with you..!'' Jeff smiled softly and he leaned in and gave Dan a short but loving kiss. ''Its not your time..'' Daniel broke in. ''No,..it IS my time.. What have i got to live for,without you..?'' ''You have everything to live for.'' Jeff replied sternly,cupping Dans head gently with both hands,framing his saddened face.. 'Listen to me...Its not your time...I will ALWAYS be with you..'' Jeffs hand reached down and he touched Daniel on his chest,above his heart.''..in here..!'' Daniel could see the sincerity and the truth inside Jeff emerald green eyes, as Jeff continued.. ''You remember that boy in the car with you,don't you....Jacob,the hitchhiker..?'' Jeff said knowingly. Dan nodded slightly in acknowledgement. ''You will find happiness with him,i know.. You will find the strength to carry on and to enjoy life again.. He himself has needed to find that kindred spirit,that endearing love to share, someone to make his own life better and worthwhile after the traumas of the short life he has had so far..'' Jeff could see the spark of doubt in Dans sorrowful eyes ''Believe me,this young man is more like me than you know.. He reminds me,...of me, when i was his age...Young,virile,...up for anything...Fit and healthy with a body that yearned of dedication and commitment from gym work-outs that i was too lazy to keep up..'' Dans spirit was picked up by this memory of their past,with the period when they both went through the ''gym bunny'' phase but could'nt keep up with sweat and toil of keeping their bodies in absolute perfection.. not that either of them were out of shape by their mid forties..! ''I remember,..but i'm 'getting on a bit now for all that muscle mary stuff.'' ''You're fifty,..not ninety..!'' replied Jeff,gently swatting Dan across the top of his head.. ''But i can help you with that.. Just promise me you will live,..that you will move on..?''. Daniels mind reeled. His heart was torn by the thought of never seeing jeff again,..of forgetting even what he looked like as time progressed. Jeff leaned in and gave Dan another short kiss.''I will always be with you in some form or another, in that big heart of yours,...in Jacobs eyes..'' Dan finally smiled again..''You said you can help me with my physique..?'' as he pulled Jeff in for a warm embrace and a more passionate kiss,his hands roaming across Jeffs tight six pack abs and smooth hairless chest. ''Oh yes,...just let your love flow..'' Jeff said between their increasingly erotic touching and petting. ''Stealing lines from the Bellamy Brothers..?'' Dan replied with a slight humourous grin, before both became pre-ccupied with lust. .... Up there, on that hill, a piece of Jeff flowed into Daniel,filling his heart with love, and filling his body with new found vigour...and youth. As they made love,the last vestiges of clothes discarded in passion..with each thrust of Jeffs cock into Daniel,Dan grew younger,more stronger.. His greying hair darkening into black like ink was being dyed into it.. The winkles of age and worry smoothening out and as the years ebbed backwards away,his face took on a beautiful male model look. Deep ice blue eyes framed with thin broad lightly arching eyebrows and a narrower slight upturned nose that gave him a cute elfin appeal. His rough lips becoming soft and moist and fuller,a potential for Dan to become a great kisser and great at something else he could wrap those luscious lips around..! With a slightest of pucker of those lush lips he could exude sexual sultriness that could make anyone who desired him,swoon weakly. A few days shadow of stubble on his chin just made him all the more sexier.. And the change did'nt end there.. As Jeffs angelic body pressed against his lover. As his tending hands took to every curve and course of Dans naked torso and arms, Daniel seemed to be invigorated with new found strength which then flowed increasing size into his smooth muscles. A tease of Jeffs fingers across Daniels once slight pecs of his lean chest,brought out their curves and rounding shapes. The flick of the fingers on Dans nipples hardened them and made Daniel groan with lust,adding more of Jeffs magic touch into Dans pecs that grew out thicker and fuller,becoming lightly dusted with soft dark curly hairs around his nipples,across the mounds and down into the deepening crevasse of his sternum between the growing muscles that grew from hillocks to heaving mountains. As one of Jeffs hands,now full of solid pec muscle,cupped it and tweaked at his nipples,Jeffs other hand flowed over Dans shoulders that rose into full broad slopes that framed a thicker lightly bullish neck,ever up till they nudged at his ear-lobes. The hand cupping Dans pecs,left to wander across the lean stomach that repsonded by ripping and tensing,and then his abs showing though,tightening,hardening into a solid six pack that rose like a tray of rolls in an oven.. Lines cut through sharply and defined the sensuous v shape towards his groin,like small rivulets eroding away at a bed of rocks that themsleves hardened even more and crunched together as Dan gently twisted and moved in the throes of passion..Two more hard blocks of abs arose,crunching together with the six,undulating like sand0dunes to finally reveal a shockingly cut 8-pack..Job done on those abs just awaiting someones tongue to lap way at the sweat that funneled down the cuts between each block like tiny streams to the present that would soon await at his groin.. With both hands now,Jeff ran them up the side of Dans bigger,heavier,mightier,manlier torso,up to his arm-pits,and making way for his lats to swell,to flare out of near non-existance,into huge wide-spreading slabs that pushed him up higher off the grass and stretching and broadening his back shockingly wide,like the hood of a cobra and arising the thought of 'barn door lats' to amazing reality. And those wide wide lats tapered down in a sexy v shape into an awesomely tight and narrow waistline. Out went the hands, over the shoulders,across delts filling out big round hard delts that could rugby tackle Trajans Column and knock it down to dust..Those magic hands of an angel passed down to the 'guns' that soon would be the hot top ticket to any 'gun show'.!Once lean sizeable but small biceps suddenly jumped alive as veins pulsed thickenly across the surface of the curves like water running through a firehose.. These veins plugged themselves into Dans bicpes and triceps and started to inflate them, to swell them rapidly from grapefruits to cantaloupe melons, swollen and engorged even fuller to cannonballs streaked with vascular pulsating electrodeds of veins. Biceps that soon reached 25 inches,and tri's that hung thick and hard,...to forearms so ripped and burgeoning like he could rip up a sequoia. Jeff pushed his cock into Dans tight hole as he felt up along Dans legs draped up over his shoulders.. Thighs that seemed to flex,and grow then swell with each flex until they were full of muscle and framing Jeffs head and seemed to give added weight in them as they grew tree trunk thick full of muscle.. Calves that bulged and bloated and tighly ripped.. Thick sinewy bulging leg muscles powerful enough Dan would look like he could dead-lift a bull Elephant..! With each thrust of Jeffs thick cock,he could feel Dan ass respond by clenching tighter against the sodomising intrusion, clamping at the cock as it slid in and out as the growth flowed into his glutes,raising them up,filling them out and gradually endowing Dan with a sexy curvaceous bubble butt. The final gift to Dan, was the growth in his genitals. In the throes of lust,Dans cock had arose into its solid,rigid erection of 7 inches,but now,that erection throbbed even harder,and with each throb,engorged even thicker and fuller,and longer.. It was growing like Daniels own Trajans column without the motifs.. The few veins streaking up along the hard shaft like old thick dry jungle roots creeping over ancient Cambodian ruins to cap a big flaring pinkish-purple glans oozing pre-ucm out of the slit like a tree oozing sap. And his balls too had grown low and heavy in their sac.. Full bloated with cum,lolling weightily like soft medicine balls between his upstretched legs.. .................................................. ............................................... In the cabin, if Jacob was not with St.Nick in a nearby room,for once risking a chance away from Daniel laying under the woolen blankets on the couch, he would have seen the wounds gradually healing themselves. He would have seen Daniel sleeping soundly,covered in a light sheen of sweat,not from the heat of the fire..He would have seen Daniels face looking calm and serene.. ...He would have seen Daniel growing under that warm welcoming blanket,obscuring the gentle swelling of his muscles....the invigoration of youth flooding back into his face,his body,his hands..The arousal of his cock as Daniel dreamt his life-changing dream. ....But Jacob would'nt be left out.. Not for long.. After all, Nick,...Santa Claus had promised him his Christmas gift.. ....But thats for the last part, the healing of wounds,the finding of love. ==================================================================

Tales of a Lust Mage #6 'Gingerbread Muscle Men' SUBTAGS: Unaware Growth, Muscle Worship, Alchemy, Holiday (Christmas), Characters (Liam, Andres, N. Claus) Author note: Hey everyone, went on hiatus with my writing. Back to give you guys a little holiday cheer! I want to dedicate this story to farresh, a real good friend who appreciates my stories. Happy Holidays to all of you!!! ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ It was Christmas Eve. Nothing was making noise in the house, yes, not even mice that was almost true, except the kitchen, which was actually very loud. “What are you doing?!” Yelled Andres, rolling around on the plush carpeting next to the fire place and the Christmas tree. He had taken a nap and had just woken up. Liam had been sleeping. “You can’t come into the kitchen!” responded Liam, whom had been in the kitchens for a few hours. Throughout the day he’d been closing the kitchen off to bake pastries and foods for the Christmas parties both young men had to go to. Now that they’d come home and it was beyond late and no more parties to go to, Andres still wondered why Liam was making snacks. Then it hit him. “Hey, you doing some wizard magic stuff in there? Like, with a cauldron and stuff? Don’t you take a break on Christmas?” Andres asked. He needed a protein shake, and he wanted to sneak into the room. “I told you, I’m not a wizard. I’m an alchemist.” Liam responded, poking his head out of the kitchen. “And yes, I’m working on your Christmas gift.” “What, I thought you got me one? Rule is we can open a gift at midnight, and the rest in the morning.” Andres said, standing up and stretching his back. He’d just had shoulder day and his whole upper body was sore. Sitting there, waiting for Liam to finish whatever strange concoction he was making to sell in the shadow-market. Liam tended to be vague about his work, and mostly everything, but Andres picked up on a few key points about the magic-world. “Trust me, THIS gift is the one you’ll want tonight. Besides, it’s only appropriate to bake fresh cookies for Santa.” Liam said, smiling wide. Liam’s thick brown hair had been tied back and he wore a red holiday hat, to keep it from contaminating whatever it was he was making in the kitchen. Andres looked into his phone and smiled, somewhat bored. He flipped through photographs online of the two, grinning at the funniest and best memories. Andres flipped and saw the first picture of them at the gym, back in sophomore year. It was two years of half-done working out and running around the gym awkwardly. Even so, Liam and Andres went into college slowly progressing, and the difference was noticeable. Andres had started out a chubby short dude, and Liam had always been a tall lanky kid. Now Liam was a dense, well-formed tall man. Andres himself was thicker, wider man. He looked over to the Christmas tree and looked at the small present he had for Liam. “Wait, what? Santa? You mean he’s real? Like unicorns and Big Foot?” Andres asked. Before making a snarky remark, he received a text message from his mother. “Si, Mama, estoy bien.” He texted her back. She’d just moved back to Mexico, so he didn’t see her this year. Liam was Andres’ only family since she moved back, and that was only because they’d grown up together. “Next year we should go to Morelia, and see your mum. And Big Foot is actually a creature by a different name, country bumpkins simply gave it that terrible moniker. I read an article on it written by a mage who mentioned it might be the same effect of black-marketed exotic animals that are released into the wild.” Liam said, coming into the room with a box of unguents and other alchemical items. Andres had kept the secret that Liam was an ‘alchemist’ since high school, when Liam accidentally had turned his hands scaly (it was a strange experience). Of course, that was only one of the experiences the two shared. Andres shuddered a little, knowing how creepy Liam’s magic could be. “Oh god, remember when you first tried out for the football team?! How your mum made enchiladas when you got home to forget how sad you were to not be put on the team?!” Liam laughed, placing things by the fireplace. “Yes, Liam. I was small before I hit puberty senior year, and I’m Mexican-American. Thanks for sending that point home. Now what the hell are you doing, and should I be afraid and/or contact your magical friends?” Andres grumbled. He looked over at the red and green mirror decoration Liam brought with him to the cabin. He looked at himself for a bit, instinctively fixing his hair before moving onto his original goal. Needed to really work those shoulders next workout. Andres then returned to creeping behind Liam to see all the commotion. “I’m making an offering.” Liam said. Andres observed the chalice, silver probably, full of milk. A gold-leaf dish displayed many perfectly made cookies, gingerbread. They had been baked at the right time Liam chose for this special ritual. They smelled wonderful, spiced with lots of cinnamon. Candles of pine were lit and a stick of frankincense flickered with its pungent odor. “Wait, to Santa?” Andres asked, his mouth pursing long in suspicion. “Yes, to Santa. It’s almost midnight, so I best hurry.” Liam said, grabbing water and splashing it over the fire. Steam overflowed, outward as Andres jumped back, in a start. The clock reached the witching hour, and Liam smiled. “THE HELL, LIAM!?” Andres yelped, trying to see through the thick steam. The pine candles didn’t go out, and the incense didn’t dampen. The room became dark without artificial light and the fireplace dead. Liam’s chalk slid slowly on the wood flooring, drawing a snowflake-like sigil. “THIS IS NOT A CHRISTMAS I LIKE, LIAM!!! THIS IS A SCARY CHRISTMAS, LIAM!” Andres yelped. He weighed a good 175 lbs. of muscle and bone, but he still felt more uncomfortable about things than his lighter friend. Liam only whispered things in an ancient wording, before moving onto English. His English accent made the poetry of the ritual even more mystic. “Oh, Paladin of Hope and Retribution, Rider on the winds of the dead winter, Elder father still stronger than the young, Hunter of Strength even in the cold, I give you offering, of all the four elements, So you may feel comfortable whilst you stay in our abode.” An icy wind blasted through the fireplace, covering the entire hearth in glassy frost. Andres instinctively lifted up his hand, the terrible cold threatening to knock him down from where he was standing. He coughed, looking around as the scent of mint and cinnamon permeated the room heavily. “Liam?” Andres asked, wafting the fog with his hand. “Andres, meet a good friend of mine,” Liam said, the silhouette of a massive man standing in front of both of them. “Nicolas, this is Andres. Andres, let me introduce Nicolas Claus.” Andres stared at the giant man, standing nine feet tall over the two. The man was wider than the sleigh one would assume he rode. His shoulders hunched over, a massively flared back creeping up in the muscular meat of his trapezoids, wanting to swallow his head. His body was decorated with a sprinkling of white body hair. He wore a large red coat, so long it seemed to be like a duster that dragged as the massive man walked around. Andres was already impressed (and sexually attracted…) with the massive mythical man, but his monstrous arms topped of the masterpiece of a man as they poked out of coat’s sleeveless form. “Pleasure to meet you, boy.” Claus’s mouth said behind his thick beard, his obelisk legs waddling as he walked over to Andres. Andres stared. Santa’s arms looked like they couldn’t even match a normal man’s anatomy. Andres’s mouth held open, simply astounded by what was going on in the room. “I-I-I’m Andres,” Andres stuttered. “I know that.” Claus responded, shaking Andres’s limp hand. “H-How even?! You’re! And you’re here! Liam?!” Andres stuttered, in a panic. Liam and Santa laughed, the young man still thoroughly confused. He was surprised to see that Santa wore an eye-patch. Obviously that wasn’t the ONLY thing that had Andres confounded. “I actually was not very good at summoning back while I learned what I do nowadays. But there was ONE gentleman I could summon. Sadly it was a fluke because I’d been lucky enough to catch him when I was a child.” Liam said. “Liam was a very nice young man but I assumed he was non-magical in nature, so I did not whisk myself away through the house. He caught me in the middle of putting his presents down one year.” Claus said. Andres noticed he had a very subtle accent. Russian, maybe? “S-so what are you here for?” Andres asked, as if he had never heard a Christmas carol. The massive man loomed over him. His eyebrows were so thick they seemed to cover his face in the dimness of the room. He patted Andres’s head and laughed- the big hardy laugh mentioned in all the stories. “I am here for the cookies of Liam’s making. They are one of my favorite. We always celebrate and exchange gifts this way!” laughed Claus. “SO WHY THE CREEPY MAGIC STUFF, LIAM!?” Andres yelled, still very confused. He held his head as the fire went alit in blue flame. It flickered, not melting the ice in the tiny cabin the two young men had rented out. “Well, because we’re making a trade. I give Santa the best cookies most alchemists can make, and he gives me more than the usual goodies he brings good boys and girls.” Liam said, sitting down on the couch. Claus simply folded his legs, actually about as tall as Andres sitting on the couch. “What do you want it be this year, Liam?” Claus asked, sifting through a small red sack. This must have been the one with all the toys, right? “I wrote you the letter, as usual.” Liam said, showing him the cookies. “These aren’t decorated.” Claus said, squinting. You couldn’t tell, he was so furry-faced, but his strong brow furled a bit. “Oh, that’s because you’re supposed to gimme what I wanted!” Liam joked. Andres sat there, still trying to process everything. Santa was in the living room with them. And Liam was making some weird trade with him. Santa chortled again, finally pulling out a large vial of frosting. Liam’s face became bright as he looked at it, tied in a big red ribbon. “Yes! THAT!” Liam said, giddy. The happy giant handed him the vial and looked at the cookies, excited. Liam quickly took off the bow and decorated the cookies with the frosting. He then ran to the kitchen to grab more cookies. He brought out the plate chock-full of other cookies and placed them in front of Andres. “You really like gingerbread, Mr. Santa?” Andres asked. “Please, call me Claus. CLAH-OS.” Santa said, chuckling as he reached out for the tiny glass of milk and a small gingerbread man. “Damn, all these are for you?” Andres asked. “I suppose it makes sense, you’re pretty big for a guy who only plans to eat a few cookies.” “No, no, these are for us two, Santa only eats seven cookies at each stop, if that much. There’s more than enough going around.” Liam said. “For us?” Andres asked. Claus munched and savored the perfect cookies. “Yeah, you’re going to love them, trust me. Just need to make sure to let them cool.” Liam responded, decorating all the trees and gingerbread men. “Do you plan on leaving, then, Santa?” “Yes, my reindeer are… Restless… I’m sure you’ll hear about it if I don’t get them moving again in a bit. Too bad these cookies don’t do what could before to me. But you two enjoy… And don’t eat too many…” Santa said, getting up in a slow, rumbling lift. He grabbed a few more cookies and placed them into a small box, labeled to someone else. He shook Liam’s hand and turned into a frost that went back through the chimney. As quickly as he’d appeared, he disappeared. The room went back to normal, no longer frosted by magic. “For all the weird shit you’ve had happen, this really,” “Puts the frosting on the cake?” Liam interrupted Andres, the cookies’ frosting becoming stiff, ready to eat. He laughed a little, picking one up and handing it to his friend. “So you just want me to eat a cookie?” “No, I want you to do more, but we’ll see how much more.” Liam responded. Andres stared at him, the corners of his mouth pursed back, suspicious. Liam nodded, prompting his friend to take a bite. Andres closed his eyes, nervously putting the cookie in his mouth. He breathed in before quickly biting down. The cookie tasted amazing. It wasn’t very sweet itself, more mild and a bass for the sweetness that was in the frosting. He chewed, almost moaning from how good the cookies were. Liam was a pretty good cook and baker, but this tasted amazing. He found himself without the cookie, having finished it before thoroughly examining its flavor. “Holy shit. The hell is in these?” Andres asked, reaching for another. He hesitated after picking a glossy white snowflake cookie, still a bit cautious. “Just eat, man. They’re good for you, I made them with a ‘protein-gingerbread’ recipe. Santa worries about his protein intake as much as you do.” Liam responded. He too grabbed a cookie and munched. He savored the flavor too, proud of his alchemical handiwork. “Fine, okay.” Andres said, before stuffing his face with the cookie. He was almost embarrassed, but they were so god-damn good. Andres hadn’t even noticed his hand reaching for another as he asked, “Extra protein? Really?” “Yeah, extra protein and the frosting is Santa’s recipe, made from only the finest ingredients, not a lot of fat. So don’t worry about breaking diet. Eat as many as you like.” Liam said, eating his second. He stared at Andres’s chest, excited to see the results of his work. Andres meanwhile ate the cookie and munched, thoroughly enamored with the snack. He didn’t even notice how tight his pants felt as he chewed his fifth cookie. “So, you used all your ‘Christmas goodness’ on frosting? I mean, these cookies are fucking amazing, but couldn’t you ask for dragon scales or something you usually want to put in potions and stuff?” Andres asked. Man, the fireplace was getting really hot, Andres felt a sweat coming on. “You underestimate the power of a good cookie. Santa agreed to fulfill both our Christmas wishes. In fact, all of them.” Liam said, trying not to groan as his own shirt tightened at the hems and collar. His biceps already felt like they were filling out. He tried not to smile too hard, but he was so excited to see Andres swell. “Man… These are…” Andres said, feeling a bit hazy as he picked up his seventh cookie. “These are really fucking delicious, Liam. I can’t even stop eating them!” He joked, not aware of how true the words were. He felt something different in his back. He almost stopped eating, staring at the fire to try and sense what was wrong. Andres brushed off the feeling, Liam knowing well that his back was thickening, pushing outward. “All our Christmas wishes?” Andres asked, finishing the seventh cookie. He winced a bit, noticing the pain in his groin. Fuck, he had just jacked off a few hours ago. He bit his tongue as he looked over at Liam, his balls denser than the time he hadn’t jacked off for two weeks on a dare (he kept his word, and wished he hadn’t that time…). Andres’s eyes went wide, however, looking upon his alchemist friend. Liam smiled, his mouth nibbling on a tree-shaped cookie. Liam looked like he had grown! But that wasn’t possible right? Andres’s brow furled up a bit the moment he looked down at Liam’s thick, rock-hard chest. It peeked out of the sweater, tempting Andres as it always did. Liam looked thicker tonight, too. Liam was a fairly long guy, even with working out as hard as he did. Maybe he was really starting to pack on mass now… “Oh yeah, crud, this feels good. Oh, sorry, what’d you ask, Andy? Yeah, you’ve been a real nice guy this year, so you get all your gifts. Santa knows when you’ve been good.” Liam responded, before flexing his arm behind his head. Andres gasped through his nose as he heard the sweater strain its thick weaving on Liam’s spreading lats. “What the hell?!” Andres said, dropping the cookie he was working on. Eighth or ninth- Andres was losing count. He spoke in an amazed voice, “You’re- you’re growing, Liam! You already look huge now!” “Speak for yourself, Andy. I only ate about three cookies. How many have you eaten now?” Andres stared, still confused. Then he processed what Andy was insinuating. He looked over to the mirror- his eyes shooting wide. Andres was a fairly muscular man already, but now… He had grown to become even more. He stared at the thick neck that held his head, like a pedestal. His traps pushed around his waffle-knit shirt. He could see the texture, once perfect, now stretched in all manner of places as it strained to contain its owner. Andres gulped as he looked at the wide frame he’d swollen; his shoulders were pushing away from him. “F-fucking- what happened!?” Andres asked, his chest beginning to heave. Holy shit, it was big too. Andres’s lips pursed again as he felt his cock twitch; he was becoming aroused. How could he not have noticed this happening?! “What, don’t like it?” Liam asked, grabbing another cookie. He could have used some tea, maybe with milk. “N-no, I do, I just, what is this?” Andres asked, standing up and almost falling as his thick, striated left thigh shoved over his right. He looked at his legs in the small reflection and stared, his heart beating fast and hot. His warm leisure pants stretched over his huge hamstrings, poking the fabric like frames behind the cloth. Andres finally groaned as his cock roared awake, pushing the soft fabric perfectly to its swollen contour. Embarrassed, he tried to place his hands over swelling erection. He felt his face become even reader when the threads of his sleeves popped. They’d give way soon if he didn’t stop growing. Even so, his mind quickly pondered the idea of seeing his clothes tear. His eyes glanced over to the cookie that lay on the couch, still half-eaten. “Go ahead, man. Let’s just eat as many as you want.” Liam said, biting into another cookie. Andres followed the advice and walked over, sitting much closer to Liam this time. Liam had never been this flirtatious, if he’d ever been flirtatious to begin with… But he didn’t seem bothered to sit so close to him, so Andres only smiled and bit into the cookie, nervously. “Ah, I think... I can feel it…” Andres said, swallowing the cookie and moving onto another. “That’s because you’ll feel it the more you grow.” Liam said, huffing as he felt his own erection swelling in his jeans. These pants were far more constricting than Andres’s, so Liam decided to fix the situation. “Hey, I bet I can eat more than you.” Liam said, poking Andres. Andres groaned, feeling the pump of his heart sending growth through him, each beat. Each pump of blood, thumping as it swelled him up like a balloon. “What, no, I’ve always been bigger. You got magic and now want to beat me?” Andres groaned, seeing his stomach stick out a bit under his tightening shirt. He could see the perfect abdomen of muscle begin to crunch under his skin, growing as he bit into the eleventh cookie. “Fine, but you better start eating faster,” Liam said, grabbing two cookies and biting into both of them. Andres chewed and tried swallowing without thinking about enjoying the flavor; Liam chuckled as his sweater began to tear. Andres angrily grabbed two cookies. He felt a little embarrassed as he breathed in and stuffed one in his mouth, but the flavor was so sweet and good he found himself chewing faster just to stuff the next one inside. “Yeah, eat up, Andy, I want to see you blow up.” Liam said, chewing. Andres felt his glutes push him upward, the couch creaking as he thickened even more. He felt the pants constricting his blood, fighting to stay intact. He growled, stuffing his mouth with another baked gingerbread man. Muffled with sweets, he tried to say something. “Fuck, it feels good, man. I’m growing so big!” He growled, fumbling through words as the sweet frosting stuck to the roof of his mouth. He grabbed a handful of cookies and finally gave up on eating with composure, stuffing his mouth chockfull of sweet gingerbread. He groaned, holding onto his stomach as his arms croaked with mass. The sound of cloth tearing aroused him as well, even if the growth felt a little uncomfortable. Liam breathed heavily, trying not to moan as his jeans tore with newly growing muscle. He looked over at the erection that finally popped out of Andres’s pants and smiled, straddling the cock in his right hand as he grabbed another frosted cookie. “Fuck, man, I’m still not as big as you, but…” Liam managed to compliment, before moaning as Andres reached over and gagged him with a gingerbread man. Andres was horny as hell and wanted to see Liam massive to, so he began feeding the both of them. Liam couldn’t keep up with the feeding, but held his mouth at the ready. Andres roared, his shirt finally tearing open as his pectorals swelled outward. His lats spread like wings as he flexed in a perfect double bicep pose- he was sweating in ecstasy. “Mmfuck yeah, man…” Liam muffled, following suit and flexing his own giant biceps in the same pose. Andres heaved, finally finishing the last cookies as the shreds of cloth wrapped around his swollen, rock-hard contour. He looked over at Liam and smiled, still trying to catch his breath. Liam’s smile still looked soft even though he could very well weigh 300 lbs. in muscle alone. “Fuck, Liam. This is- it’s amazing!” “I know. I think you deserve it. And your other Christmas wish, too.” Liam said, hulking his upper body to touch Andres. “What do you mean?” Andres asked. Liam laughed and finally pressed his body against Andres. He opened the small box meant for Christmas morning, revealing a chain Andres had bought him. “You wanted to ask me out, and I think it’s exactly what you’re going to get.” Liam said, slowly reaching with his massive arm around the larger Andres. Andres simply stood there, huge and hot. They kissed. Liam reached and squeezed Andres’s thick arms, pressing as hard as he could (which was a lot, considering the swollen bowling-ball arms he had). As they tore off the last shreds of clothes, Liam knelt down and lifted his arms, squeezing Andres’s throbbing erection in the crevice of his bicep and forearm. “Fuck yeah, Liam, you’re fucking huge!” In a single breath, Liam squeezed as hard as possible, spreading the thick pre that dribbled out of Andres around into the perfect lube. Liam let his tongue slide around Andres’s stomach as he jutted back-and-forth through the muscular crease. Andres couldn’t hold it any longer and grabbed Liam’s head, forcing his cock into his mouth. They moaned in unison, their hands rubbing each other’s swollen, solid bodies. “Liam, oh man, it feels so good! It feels so good to be this strong! I love feeling you even more than I ever thought it would!” Andres moaned. He flexed his arms up and licked his body, tasting the paper-thin skin. Andres moaned, Liam’s hands running up to caress his thick chest. He kept jutting forward to fill Liam’s small mouth, enjoying the sensation of wet tongue and tight throat. The hands moved to pinch his sensitive muscle-man nips then down again to move around the grooves of his newly formed giant abdomen. “Yeah, Andy, come on, bounce that muscle-cock!” Liam ordered, his voice deeper than it had been a few hours ago. Andres was too worked up to notice his own voice was a deep bass as well. Liam pulled himself off and licked Andres’s heavy, swollen nuts. Andres then whined, ready to explode at any moment. Liam stood up and forced his mouth onto Andres, tasting the sweetness left behind by the cookies that originally grew them huge. They began to frot, Liam’s saliva and Andres’s precome thoroughly lubing them as they pressed their thick muscles against each other. Their nips slid against each other as Andres noticed he’d gotten a little taller- enough to match his masculine mate. Andres quickly wrapped his thick arms around Liam and squeezed; so much he would’ve broken a normal man in two. Liam simply flexed his abs and spread his back open. Their massive quads did a wonderful job milking each other and soon the two were roaring, still squeezing and flexing. “I’m gonna blow!” Andres roared his arms going high up in the air as Liam’s hands pushed them up. Liam enjoyed feeling the lats under Andres’s arms. “Yeah, blow with me!” roared back Liam, breathing as close as he could to Andres’s neck (they were so wide and thick, it was hard to get close at this point). Andres gasped in unison with Liam, their cocks sliding upward as they exploded in a shower of thick, white cream. “Aww fuck! SO FUCKING POWERFUL!” Andres bellowed, Liam simply roaring in ecstasy. Ropes and ropes of thick cream splattered all over the place and Andres closed his eyes, holding Liam’s face as come actually landed on his own. He let his lips open so he could taste the juice that had been formed by two grown muscle-gods. It tasted surprisingly sweet, and very familiar. After they awoke Christmas morning (they went on and experienced many other sexual acts on Christmas Eve, capable of orgasm with full virility), they laughed and cooked breakfast. Eating to keep up this new weight would be hard, but Liam said they’d manage. “So is there cum in the cookies?” Andres asked. He didn’t feel so embarrassed to do so. “Well, technically. But it’s been distilled and altered through ‘natural’ alchemy. Only Santa knows how to make it, and he only leaves it for the nicest men who really want to grow. I made a deal to create cookies that would match. The frosting itself grows you, but you quickly shrink back if you don’t work your muscles hard and eat right. The cookies lengthen that time. I’m sure there’s someone having a GREAT Christmas morning right now, eating the cookies I let him have…” Liam said, frosting a new batch of cookies himself. “Lucky guy, then. Well, not so lucky. He doesn’t have you. Oh, are we going to eat those too? I don't think I need to be bigger, but damn, we'd both look amazing if we grew some more.” Andres said, feeling more confident than ever. Liam simply laughed. “No, some of these are to sell; nobody can recreate them so Santa won't be mad at me. If you want to eat some, we can have a little fun I guess. As to the person who got lucky enough to get them today it's only if he’s been REALLY good this year. Santa’s sure to let him have a cookie or two.” The two massive muscle-men kissed and laughed, excited to play with some more growing cookies. As Liam said, Santa DID give some cookies to a lucky guy, but whoever knows who it was? Maybe it'll be you this year, if you've been REALLY good. END TALE

It was dark and warm in the suburban area as a gust of wind flew through. Everything was quiet. Not a sound was made, animal or otherwise. A single house among them all stood out from all the rest. It wasn’t because of the outer paint or the structure or even the people who lived there. Some kind of energy was emitting from the building as though something was different and unusual to the space. Inside, nothing was amiss. Each book shelf was tidied. The kitchen was well organized. The television was hushed. There was nothing in the room that had power or movement besides 3 things. One of the three things was a lamp lighting the room. The other ones were two men. These two man didn’t have much in common when appearance was concerned. One had dark hair, blue eyes, and was wearing a polo with jeans. The other had gray hair with green eyes and was wearing a coat and slacks that made him look like he came from a movie with old school detectives. His hat was in his lap out of courtesy as he spoke with the other man. What these two had in common, however, was that they both were well built. Each one could have been placed in a catalog for bodybuilder or male fitness as their bodies stretched their clothing well. Though both were aged quite well, they were in some quality shape. “So you did what to him?” the man with the gray hair and hat said to other man. “Hey! It’s not my fault! I was young!” The two laughed their hearty laughs, showing their time of aged friendship. Suddenly, the room gave a quick vibration that both felt. A vase fell off a shelf as the room quaked. The two men didn’t react as the room stopped as suddenly as it had started. “Looks like it’s started” said the gray haired man. “Remember when you quaked for the first time?” This question was received with a chuckle from the other man. “Of course, I shook the foundations! My dad had to fix our lights because they fell out!” They were both laughing until another vibration shook the ground and everything around them. Ironically, the living room lights dropped from the ceiling and crashed into a glass mess on the floor. It would have been an easy fix if some of the wiring connected to the lighting hadn’t come down with it. The two men looked at each other with grins. “Like father like son” ----- Upstairs, things were getting crazy as the room of Ellis Connor shook and bent unnaturally. The room’s space seemed to shift and reform around the boy on the bed. The teenager’s room seemed to pull and push as though it were breathing and then muddle as though it were mud. Still, Ellis couldn’t see it as he slept. The boy was completely unconscious in his deep sleep, his clothes and covers thrown away as his body had overheated. Ellis’s body was also shifting like the room but in a different way. His body was changing from its average, unsculpted frame to something crafted by angels. His once dark hair changed to an intense red. His face was still the same but his chin had become just a little more definite along the jaw. His chest pushed up and out some as new muscle formed down the torso. His shoulders broadened and his six tight cobblestone abs went down his stomach and remained hard like armor. Though the 18 year old was wearing some well fitting briefs, the term ‘well fitting’ changed when his waist suddenly condensed and then expanded a bit. His ass pushed out and forced his crotch up some with the more powerful muscles. His legs tightened and form 3 distinct muscles that could be clearly seen. His calves became more powerful and also lifted his legs up some as his feet stretched from a size 10 to a size 13. Just when it seemed to be over, Ellis’s chest and crotch grew some healthy body hair to match his newly red armpit hair. It seemed to be over until Ellis moved in his sleep. Something warm and strong was growing inside him. It was revealed to be his manhood as his cock hardened and finally tore his now poor, medium-sized briefs to shreds as it grew past its average 5 inches and stretched up to a forceful and proud 10. With that, everything came to halt as Ellis awoke with a start, his once brown eyes recolored in blue blue. His body was sweat covered as he looked around and then down to view his new body. Everything was tight and powerful looking as Ellis looked at his form. His cock was now dripping precum as he viewed the results of his sleep but he had no time to admire it all as his door flew open and a dark haired, middle aged and well built man walked in with a smile on his face. “DAD?!” “Congratulations on your first quake, son!” ----- This is really short but I swear it'll mean something soon!

The following is a section from one from the books I have written for the self publishing website Lulu.com and as it deals with a subject matter that members are experienced in, I am hoping that members will critique it before I send it off. The target audience is a family audience, hence the lack of things that are usually seen on this site. It has been a decade since I last was a Musketeer, sadly time has not been kind to my faithful steed Sandy and I am desperate to help him continue in that role, even if it means meeting with someone who is alleged to have communed with the devil. “Well, hello there” said a voice, “enjoying my researches are you?” I span round, drew my sword and shouted “Your evil magic cannot harm me, I am a Musketeer Lieutenant and…” “You’ve come to see me, am I right?” continued the voice, “Here, let me add some light to the situation” and with that he snapped his fingers and every candle in the room lit up and revealed him as a rather old person resembling any number of brilliant, if slightly oddball inventors. “Alexi?” I asked “The same” he replied with a smile and noticing my sword said “Let me guess, purveyor of the dark arts, communes with the devil?” I nodded, sheathing my sword. “Yes” he smiled, nodding, “I suppose I do let those rumours get a little out of control” It was becoming abundantly clear that this wasn’t a wizard or indeed a warlock, Alexi was just another of the many people trying to bring the seventeenth century kicking and screaming into the modern era and as a person with the slight scientific bent, I felt I could trust him. “So Henri, what I can do for you?” he asked “You know who I am?” I gasped “Well, of course I know” I said and pointed to a bowl of water in front of him and added mystically “I see all and know all!” and then smiled, “besides how many English Musketeers do you know?” “He’s as batty as a fruitcake” I thought to myself, which of course meant he was absolutely harmless and I apologised for drawing my sword on him. “Oh, don’t worry about that” he smiled, “happens to the best of us. Now, let’s see if this water can tell me why you’re here” and he tapped his bowl and as I watched I gasped as an image appeared in the bowl of Sandy’s drenching. “But that’s impossible” I breathed. “Nothing’s impossible” he smiled, “you just have to know what to do. So, let me guess, you’d like me to take a few years off Sandy right?” “Can you do that?” I asked “Can I do that?” he laughed, and then stopped, “Can I do that?” he asked and scratched his head, “Of course I can!” he added and leapt out of his chair and started gathering all manner of ingredients listing them as he went and started to throw them into a cauldron that was in the middle of the room. “Newt’s Eyes” he said, “Snakeskin, Boiled toadwarts” “Bolied Toadwarts?” I asked “Yes” came the reply as he threw more ingredients in “just everyday ingredients that you have lying around the house!” “Your house maybe” I thought as I peered into the cauldron, “but certainly not mine” and asked him “And this mixture will do what?” “You’ll see” chuckled Alexi as he stirred the mixture and a short while later filled a bottle with the green coloured liquid and handed it to me. “Give this to Sandy and be amazed!” he smiled I gave the bottle to Sandy who sniffed it and turned his nose up at it. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad!” I said and sniffed it myself before adding, “Wooh! I stand corrected” but Sandy was insistent. “Sandy” I said, “It’s either this or permanent retirement and if you retired then….then I would as well. You are my faithful steed and I simply would refuse to be a Musketeer without you at my side!” Sandy looked down and then at the bottle and slowly opened his mouth. “That’s the spirit” I said and poured the bottle into his mouth. He suddenly neighed and reared up as if in great pain. “SANDY!” I exclaimed and then roared at Alexi, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” “Wait and see” he chuckled As Sandy continued to neigh in agony I wanted to hug my faithful steed and wail “Sandy, I am so sorry. I should have believed Aramis” when Sandy started to paw the floor like a bull waiting to charge and then reared up again. “Get down” shouted Alexei and grabbing me threw me and himself to the floor and as we did I felt a wave of energy pass through me and what sounded like an explosion. I quickly got up and stared in disbelief. Where Sandy had been there now stood a massive shire horse at least thirty hands tall shaking its head and breathing hard. It looked around as if unsure of where it was and then realised something, held its head up high and neighed louder than I had ever heard a horse neigh before. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO SANDY?” I bellowed to Alexei “I’ve done nothing!” he said, “I have simply done what you asked me to do. I have regenerated Sandy!” I held my head in my hands and said slowly, “I asked you to make Sandy not have to retire, not destroy him in some kind of weird biological experiment and replace him with a shire horse!” “But I haven’t!” he said, “That’s Sandy!” and pointed to the horse who was now trotting around in a state of sheer joy. “Er, excuse me” I said, in a tone of voice similar to high school girls in California, “that is never Sandy in a million years” and went next to the shire horse. “For starters, I’ll never be able to mount him, his saddle is taller than me, then there is the small matter that Sandy was a medium sized horse and this is a monster, and thirdly, WHERE’S SANDY?” “There!” replied Alexei pointing to the horse. “LOOK!” I bellowed, trying my darnest to be polite and failing, “I want my horse back, the horse that my “father” gave me all those years ago, the horse that I rode from my home to Mearne, the horse that was insulted twice on that journey, the horse…” Suddenly, the Shire horse stopped trotting and tapped the floor three times with its hoof. “Sorry” I said, “the horse that was insulted three times on that journey, the horse…” and then I stopped. “Three times?” I asked softly and cast my mind back to that journey to Mearne and as I remembered a dawning realisation came to me. “I was insulted three times on the road to Mearne” and turned to the horse, “Sandy, is…is that you?” The shire lowered his head to me and gave me a big lick. “SANDY” I exclaimed and gasped in amazement at what Sandy now was. The biggest horse I had ever seen in my life. As I walked around him, I breathed “Wow, what would happen if a person drank that mixture?” “That’s a very good question” said Alexi, “fancy giving it a go?” “What?” I asked “Well, not that mixture exactly” he said, “that’s only really for animals, but I’ve got something bubbling upstairs that might just tickle your fancy” and with that opened a door and gestured me to follow. I was in two minds. Was this man a very early biologist who had stumbled on a way of regenerating old and tired material into young material or was, as Aramis had suggested, a wizard? Then he said something that sealed the deal. “Follow me” he said as he went upstairs, “and you will become stronger than Porthos himself!” “Oh yeah!” I said to myself, “that’ll do it!” and followed him up a narrow flight of steps and towards another room that he unlocked the door to. In the middle of it was a massive cauldron with a green gloop bubbling away. “Right” said Alexi, “first of all dip your sword in that cauldron”. I did as instructed and the gloop suddenly turned bright silver. “Excellent, that proves that you’re a good man” he said, adding, “This potion is only given to those who are pure of heart, brave and courageous” and with that he took a bowl and scooped some of the potion and handed it to be saying “Congratulations, Henri, you’re literally one in a million!” As I took the bowl I looked at it with caution, “and if I drink this I’ll become…?” and lowered my head to indicate Sandy. “Not quite” he said, “this is just the first stage but when all the stages are complete, you will become the most powerful man on Earth!” Well, when you are given that opportunity you don’t pass it up and so I downed the contents of the bowl in one and then pulled a face. “Urghhh! Garlic!” I grimaced. “Yes” Alexi replied, “perhaps there is a bit too much in there” and taking the bowl said, “Now, sheath your sword and we’ll go outside!” I stood next to Sandy who was still overjoyed with his new found strength and power and followed Alexi’s instructions to the letter. “Now, unsheathe your sword and hold it as high as you can. Excellent, now, how would you describe being a Musketeer?” It was a strange question but I explained everything that I had done. Travelling to England to return the diamond studs to the Queen, Capturing the Purple Peregrine, restoring the King to the throne. “All very impressive” Alexi said, “but could you condense that into a single phrase at all?” I thought for a moment and said “Well, I suppose you could say that we all do everything we do for the honour of France!” No sooner had I said that then I felt unable to move and heard a rumble. Looking up I could see storm clouds gathering and that meant only one thing, a thunderstorm, and here I was holding a metal object in the air. I could feel the positive ions surging away from me making me prime target for any lightning bolt. I tried to shout “Alexi, help me!” but I couldn’t open my mouth or do anything and sure enough, a second later I was hit by lighting. Now, conventional wisdom says that being struck by lighting is the most effective way of being killed and as someone who studies the weather, I know that whether ever I hear a rumble of thunder I instantly unplug the phone to ensure that no strikes can enter the house, however instead of screaming in agony, I felt empowered. It was impossible to describe what was happening to me, but I felt big, strong and powerful and I was started to get the impression that I was growing not only in bravery, but stature as well. Just as quickly as it started, the surge ended and I roared “I HAVE THE HONOUR” before coming to and gasping for breath saying “Whoa, what was that?” “That” chuckled Alexi “was the power of the elements combining with that potion to create the Ultimate Musketeer” and went back to the cave entrance and brought back a full length mirror that he placed in front of me and said “What do you think?” As I stared at the reflection in disbelief, I was lost for words. Where once stood a slightly overweight community councillor from Wales dressed in a Musketeer’s outfit now stood a person who resembled any number of strongmen, power lifters and bodybuilders as to make one wonder if he had just come straight back from a contest. I was still wearing my Musketeer boots but the rest of me beggared belief. My legs, if you could call them that, looked more like tree trunks now and were topped off with something that resembled a pair of hot pants made out of the same material as my boots. Above that was what I first mistook to be a cobbled path and thinking “Okay, why have I got stones in my stomach?” but as I rubbed them I realised what they were and looked at Alexi with a combination of astonishment and delight. “ABS!” I cried, “I’ve got a pack!” And what a pack! Most fitness models I had seen online were boasting about their six pack, some bodybuilders had through years of training had an eight pack, but they had nothing on me as I counted ten distinct muscles all crammed into the tiny space between my waist and my chest and that’s when I noticed it. My chest wasn’t a chest, it was a monster of a chest and was being kept in place, but only just I thought, by a massive breastplate made of the same leather as my boots with the symbol of French authority emblazoned in the middle. A fleur de lys. And as for my arms, it was pretty obvious who would be asked to open those pesky lids that refused to come off jam bottles. “Oh, Alexi!” I said, on the verge of tears, “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you” and ran over to him and picked him up with ease, “I have dreamed about being as strong as Porthos for years and you have made it all come true. How can I ever repay you?” “You can start!” he gasped, “by not hugging me!” Realising that because I was so darned massive, my strength not only overwhelmed that of the Titan who was my best friend but probably even Hercules, I suddenly stopped and lowered Alexi to the ground and started to pace. “Is something wrong?” he asked “Alexi” I began, “I cannot thank you enough for what you have done, but if I go back to Musketeer Headquarters looking like this, what will become of Porthos? He’s my best friend and if he sees me like this, he’ll probably think that his strength isn’t needed any more, resign from the Musketeers and I will have lost a friend. Can you suggest anything?” Alexi smiled, “The Ultimate Musketeer is just that, the ultimate, and only to be used in dire emergencies” and with that pointed to my sword which appeared to be glowing. Gesturing me to point my sword at a rock he told me to say what I had said and as I repeated “I have the honour” a beam of energy shot from the sword and destroyed the rock into a thousand pieces. “Every time you become the Ultimate Musketeer” he said, “there is a small amount left over. That energy can be used as a weapon or can be used to turn another person into a smaller version of you. I cannot think of a better person to receive that energy than the Living Titan can you?” I smiled and imagined me and Porthos wrestling each other in our ultimate forms and then realised, “That means I cannot tell everyone who I am can I?” “They said that you were clever and they were right” replied Alexi, “You can only tell three people about this gift I have given you besides me. Sandy doesn’t count as he can’t talk, so Porthos would be number one, which means you can tell two other people. Remember though, whoever you tell must swear to secrecy never to reveal your gift so choose carefully” “I will” I said. “Marvellous” said Alexi and gestured for me to raise my sword again, “now time for the Ultimate Musketeer to prepare for his next adventure. Simply say “Thy honour is preserved” and you’ll go back to your usual English reserved self” and with that he chuckled. As I did the whole process reversed and as I stood there gasping from the effort I sheathed my sword and smiled. “Remember” said Alexei, as Sandy helped me to mount him, “Only tell three people about your new powers” and with that I bowed and said “Alexei, I have made many friends during my time as a Musketeer, I would consider it an honour if I could count you amongst them!” Alexei bowed and said “And I would be delighted to accept your friendship” and with that snapped his fingers and he simply vanished into thin air, leaving me and Sandy both mystified. Was he an alchemist, a vanguard of modern science or was Aramis right the whole time? Please be honest in your comments and if you feel it needs a little bit more (remembering that this is aimed at a family audience) then please do say so

Tales of a Lust Mage #5 'Masters and Servants' SUBTAGS; Forced Growth, Strength (some), Possession, Alchemy, Demon, Genie, Characters (Leopold, Xaekus, Bradley) Author Note: Thanks for reading, guys. I might be taking a break from writing, soon. I dunno. Skip to Part II if you want to get to the main goodies fast, Part I is definitely plot. I will be doing more anthology type stories for a while, so a lot of characters won't be showing up again for a bit. Part I; The Alchemist & the Jackal Leopold grabbed the decanter and poured himself something to drink. He’d looked at the book and hated its outdated vernacular. After running into the old hag’s house and looking through her library he’d found only one tome that looked to be useful, so he stole it. At first he didn’t understand most of the words, but after going through the book time and time again, they seemed to make more sense. The writing seemed too old to be written in his tongue, but he could make out directions and notes clearly. He hated the hag for creating such a bad reputation for those who used herbs and chemicals for the pursuit of science. He had learned to use alchemy and used his skills to do great things in his household, and the people of the town did not appreciate it. They called both him and the hag witches, practitioners of the dark arts. She made simple medicines and potions to help or harm, and here he was, learning the true secrets of the world. He sighed. A few months ago they had given him in-house arrest for playing with dead bodies. He bribed the town a lump sum so they would only brick over his door. “Filthy maggots, all of them.” He said, squinting his eyes against the candle light. The dusty tome was mostly blank. He almost threw it into the fire, angry at the pointless effort of breaking into the hag’s house. Leopold could admit she was cunning. Her house hid amongst in the marshlands, high above the thick foliage and water. He’d trekked through and dodged a few skillfully laid traps. To his dismay, the old bag only had a few books. Her practices were raw and unrefined, however powerful she made them seem. Leopold still believed it was all parlor tricks, magic couldn’t be real and had explanation. To his luck he’d found the book laying under her bed. Now he had it in his grasp, knowing he could do much better if he learned her secrets. To the alchemist’s dismay, the pages were mostly blank. Leopold flipped through and found lots of notes, and a few ‘spells’. Nothing of actual meaning. Leopold tried to calm himself by concentrating and lifting things with his mind again, but it wasn’t helping. He wanted to learn and teach, but this wretched land he studied in couldn’t appreciate him. His eyes laid themselves upon an intricate way to ‘summon’ creatures. He’d managed to see a few things in the forests and sometimes in the town. If he gazed, he would often see things that lived closed to this world. This kind of gazing tired him, however, so he could never manage to study enough. People spoke about such entities, and Leopold mostly called it rubbish. He knew his mind was the one able to move things, and even alter them, not magic. But ‘magic’ had truth to it in itself, at least until he could disprove it. He could sometimes concentrate his basic mental capabilities to alter organic matter, not having to use alchemy. His few books on alchemy expanded some of this, however esoterically. He managed to turn wood hard as steel once and vapor into icicles with the direction of the books he found in his library. He needed more time to study, but his illness was coming for him. Maybe he could heal his illness with alchemy. “There are only three persons to summon,” Leopold whispered to himself. He decided to pick the most knowledgeable looking one. They all looked frightening; monsters and demons that apparently could perform strange feats. The only problem was what they asked for. Leopold at first assumed blood, but upon further inspection saw that these beings adored… orgasm. The forty year old man held his hand over his mouth as a cough wheezed his lungs. The servants had quit not long after they’d learned his dabbling with dead bodies at night. He didn’t bother to explain to them that he someday could revive the dead if he wished, he just needed time. They were too stupid to understand anyway. He was confused about the strange wording the tome asked for, but later decided it was a simple exercise that probably wouldn’t work anyway. Each page dedicated to different creatures asked for different things to call their attention. Leopold went to find the items. The directions were simple enough. A dagger and a balance for the beast to recognize his name being called, a salt circle. Leopold felt the energy in him rise, vibrate as he spoke the words directed by the old book. He began a strange chant that would presumably call the entity into the room. “…Beast, two horned, demon, lusty bastard who lives on the threshold of chaos and perfect harmony, come.” Leopold finished, feeling the air in the room become dangerously heavy. He felt as if his body was one great boulder as a presence gathered inside the salt circle. Leopold began to gaze, trying to keep his balance. His knees felt so heavy. His eyes lost focus as his mind’s eye began to work for them. He finally saw the being standing, quickly filling the insides of the circle. It did not form- it only seemed like a mass of black smoke. It snarled and bit as what looked to be shoulders pushed upward. The ‘holy’ tube created by the salt constrained the foul creature, barely. Leopold’s eye could see the invisible walls pushing and stretching as the beast’s upper body stretched them, simply by filling its space. “Snarling jackal of balance and chaos, XAEKUS, do my bidding, for it is my will.” The beast roared, sending tables and bookshelves across the room. Part II: Masters “What is it you want, foolish mortal? Why have you summoned me from the other worlds?” Xaekus growled in a deep, booming voice. Each word he said vibrated the room, as if he were yelling. He hadn’t said anything since Leopold summoned him, only growled with his jackal-muzzle. Leopold had been on his knees for almost an hour. The book warned that if he fell to his face, the beast would surely eat him alive. At the time, Leopold that it was all bullocks. How stupid was he then. “How weak and pathetic you are, you didn’t even manage to make a proper circle.” Xaekus laughed, pressing his giant claws against the walls of the circle. His other hand punched the invisible wall, vibrating its shape as his gargantuan arm lifted up to try again. “If you do not banish me away soon or make a pact I will break through. Then I’ll kill you. You can’t even stand up to with my heavy weight in your presence, so I certainly won’t eat you. Your corpse will be cursed to rot away here in this ramshackle castle.” Leopold trembled, holding the balance and dagger still. He was also not to let them go, or there would be no way to pact with Xaekus. He didn’t know how to ‘banish’ the creature, so he needed to make a pact. “S-silence… Form yourself into a shape fit for my eyes.” Leopold managed to stammer. His lungs felt so hard to move as he managed those few words. Xaekus laughed loudly as his misty ebony mist body sifted into a more normal shape. His jackal face twisted and cracked as it formed itself into a man’s. His long ears changed into more appropriate ones, still obvious of their nature. His horns -two forward pointing ivory spears- shrank to size, parting his growing hair midway. He fixed his hair as his massive body fit inside the circle more comfortably. Xaekus, seemingly man now, stood about seven feet tall. He only wore a draping sheet of gray over his massive shoulders, as if making a cape out of it. He smiled as Leopold’s arms trembled, ready to fall to the ground. The beast-man’s teeth were still sharp, but he looked more like a king, standing tall and sculpted of dark-tinted marble. Xaekus took long, heavy breaths, letting his round chest heave up and down. Leopold had never seen a ‘spirit’ this size, and certainly this masculine. “The curse you’ve put on… this room… take it away…” Leopold coughed. The spirit lifted his hand and flexed the forearm’s great musculature. It seemed to push up a shimmering red film up from the room. The film lifted and disappeared. Leopold’s arms slammed onto the floor, barely keeping Leopold’s face a few inches above it. Xaekus showed his toothy smile and then stuck out his tongue. Most of his teeth sat perfectly shaped and arranged, but his fangs grew long with the hunger to rend human flesh. “You have come to me. I wish for secret knowledge, just as the tome I have states you have. I also want the ability to heal my illness,” Leopold said, picking himself back up and dusting himself off. It was a little clumsy with his hands full. “And your end of the pact?” Xaekus said. “You will have it after.” Leopold said, finally catching his breath. Xaekus growled and let his eyes light a violent, glowing black. His mouth opened to let his tongue elongate as he growled a deep, angry . It twisted and squirmed, releasing blue drool. Leopold felt fear creep up his back. Leopold slit his wrist slightly, letting the blood drip onto the balances’ handle. It dripped to the floor. “This will be compensation until I give you what you want.” The blood disappeared as it spread on the ground. Xaekus grunted, his raspy, deep voice rumbling the room once more. It changed to a moderately ‘human’ voice. Leopold breathed a bit easier. “You will still succumb to me by the end of the night, fool.” Xaekus said. “I’m sure, but tell me who you are before you grant my wishes.” Leopold said, not thinking about it. He was confident still. “You don’t believe me yet, but eventually you’ll wonder; isn’t is strange how the master sometimes becomes the servant?” laughed Xaekus. “I doubt it, I have everything the book asks, and I’m very powerful.” Leopold said. He smiled, holding the blade up at Xaekus, knowing it repelled him in a way. “I doubt you’ll ever get anywhere, especially now that you’ve summoned me. I’ve already taken a liking to you, and you’re mine. All mine.” Xaekus smiled, sitting in what was a chair of his own creation. Black smoke, a chair. His mouth went back to normal as he crossed his legs. His giant phallus hung low, swaying in the air a tad. Leopold had never thought much about sexual pleasures, but seeing such a massive piece of meat made him wonder if he was small, or the spirit was ‘well-endowed’. “I am powerful in many things. I am possibly most skilled in what you could call ‘transmutation’, another word for ‘alchemy’. I am skilled in magic itself, with great skill in the magic of smoke and sound. I’m a spirit of air, capable of banishing monsters of water with ease. I can bring chaos into balance, and organization to entropy. And yet, my favorite thing to do… Is transform mortals into their full potential. That is what I have begun granting you already.” Leopold nervously put down the balance and dagger, now that the pact had been set in motion. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Look at your hand. Simply let blood touch the mark, and I can completely heal your sickness. As you do it, you will be giving me your essence, Leopold Duncan Scaliel.” Xaekus said. He got up, letting his chair fall apart. His body was perfectly formed. Leopold had seen big men in the town, but they were fat and disproportionate in most ways. He’d never gave attention to their bodies much, but Xaekus was different. Leopold assumed it was because he was a demon, but as Xaekus flexed his chest and arms, he knew it was at least somewhat human. He hungered to be that way. Xaekus looked so strong, letting his fingers move around as he breathed in to show off his abdomen. Without thinking, Leopold spread some scarlet onto the sigil that had appeared on his hand. He wondered how it was that the spirit knew his name, but he didn’t ask. His lungs all of a sudden felt lighter and he immediately felt excited. Xaekus began to flex his body in different ways. “Do you like a body like this?” He said, rubbing the long flesh hanging between his legs. Leopold coughed even though his lungs felt clear. His own arousal felt different, seeming to pull him to the jackal-spirit. Leopold had forgotten the way Xaekus looked in the darkness. “Maybe.” Leopold said, softly. “Give me your soul, Leopold. I can make you happy beyond your wildest dreams.” Xaekus said, letting his three-foot long member stand erect as he flexed his bicep. “You’re so massive, is it because you’re not human? You’re so… muscular! Is it possible for me to be that way?” Leopold asked, rubbing his own erection. He walked closer to the circle as he asked things, not paying heed to the warnings in the tome. “Oh, you like muscle? These are real muscles, little Leopold. Give me your soul, Leopold. I can give you everything your body and mind needs. Simply let me be your lover, guardian, and muscle god. I can do it all, give not only your seed in my name, but your own heart.” Xaekus whispered. As Xaekus showed off his great legs by turning around for his master, Leopold stepped closer and closer. His feet stood right next to the thick line of salt, almost crossing. Xaekus bent down to flex his buttocks, squeezing it hard. Its shape went from perfectly round to striated rocks of muscle. Leopold hungered badly for Xaekus’ body. Leopold’s heartbeat pumped quickly, preparing for release. “I give you my soul and seed, Xaekus!” Leopold exclaimed, breaking the salt circle with his foot. His seed shot out into the darkness that immediately released from the area. Like black smoke, it filled the room, grabbing onto the alchemist’s body. “What a wonderful deal you have done, my little Leo.” Xaekus’ voice boomed once more throughout the castle. Leopold squirmed as blackness formed itself into restrains of ropey fiber. Each strand grabbed onto the wall, holding Leopold in the air. Leopold managed to scream a bit before white rope gagged his mouth. He twitched his head, trying to escape the grasp of the vile Xaekus. Xaekus appeared in front of Leopold, forming himself waist-up in front of the former master. His legs were a swirl of smoke, shifting black and white. His massive hands rubbed around the small man, slowly pressing against different parts that aroused Leopold. Leopold tried once more to fall out of the trap. His body reacted to his captor’s sensual hands, however. “Feel my power, mortal. Do you like the feeling my massive hands playing with your body? What about my chest?” Xaekus laughed, pushing his body against Leopold. Leopold could smell Xaekus’ scent; like tobacco flower and firewood. The under-odor of masculine musk mixed it together to force Leopold’s heartbeat wild. Leopold had never even thought about women or men sexually, but his body seemed to want Xaekus for sure. Xaekus pulled the white gag out of his mouth and licked his neck. Leopold whimpered and twisted his head away. “If you’re… If you’re going to eat me, then eat me, you bastard…” He managed to whisper, trying to control his raging erection. Xaekus let out a long, booming laugh that felt like an earthquake. “Eat you?! We made a deal, old man! I don’t go back on my word, Leo. But the fact is, you don’t know how to make contracts. I’ve been in the business for years, and recently I haven’t gotten myself a good priest-boy in this region. How should I put it… we have a common enemy, me and you. That ‘hag’ is actually a fairly skilled sorceress, hiding out here as a wimple healer. She doesn’t summon me often anymore and that’s fine, but I really need more influence in these lands.” Xaekus said, biting softly on his small man-prey. “You’re a bit older, but I think that’ll help get younger worshippers… They love a strong, muscular daddy to take care of them…” “What are you- What are you trying to say?!” Leopold gasped, feeling Xaekus’ long tongue wet his clothed erection. “I need people to take me up as their guardian, Leopold. You are going to be my champion. You’ll lose most of your alchemical skills in the process, but we’ll figure it out after the change.” Xaekus said, snapping his fingers. The simple black ropes turned into ebony chains. “You foul beast from the darkness! Let me go! I comm-command you!” Leopold stammered as Xaekus tore of his clothing with a simple tug. Leopold now sat naked, literally entangled by a muscle god (or better yet, demon). “I am not a beast of the darkness, fool. I am a beast that sits between the darkness and light.” Xaekus bit, putting his giant hands onto Leopold’s neck. Leopold closed his eyes, knowing this would be the last moment before Xaekus would kill him or worse. And then, after a few seconds, Leopold felt a massive breath enter his lungs. He tried to cough as the gas stretched his lungs painfully. He opened his eyes, assuming this was the way he would die. Nobody was there- Xaekus was gone. “Wondering where I am?” Xaekus purred. Leopold tried to twist his head to see where the voice was coming from. “I’m inside you, stupid. Man, you’re what, forty? Don’t you fools only live to be about, what, sixty? You’re as stupid as men half your age who find me. It’s best to just give in, but I assume you’re going to scream anyway.” “What are you going to do to me…? Please… have mercy… kill me… My lungs…” Leopold said to Xaekus mentally. He was smart enough to figure that out, considering his mouth wouldn’t open. When he finally could, it felt as if no breath came out. “I suppose I owe you some explanations, Leopold. That was part of the bargain.” Xaekus said, letting his sigil extend its arcane marks outward from the original on Leopold’s hand. Leopold immediately felt a stretching elsewhere. He screamed- letting a small squeak of sound come out of his mouth. There was no air in his lungs as his bones began cracking. Leopold felt the cracking pull between each individual bone. “I know it’s painful these first few parts. My lack of energy here and immense multi-tasking elsewhere makes it difficult for me to make the process smoother. But, I guess it’ll make you tougher in the end.” Leopold recognized what was going on. He was probably going into shock and that was why he could think so slowly, as if the world was freezing around him. He’d lengthened sticks the same way with his alchemy. Obviously it was less painful because the current process was happening to his bones, lengthening and reassembling in a strange way. What exactly was Xaekus doing?! Was he turning Leopold into a monster? Did demons do that? “No heir and no family left, does that mean you haven’t a wife, either?” Xaekus said, as Leopold’s chest began to heave. He could finally breathe and began screaming for help. “Please let me go!” Leopold screamed, feeling something heat up, vibrating rapidly under his skin. A stretching, tearing sound could be heard coming from Leopold’s body. He screamed loudly now, feeling the heat and vibrations Xaekus sent through his body. He’d grown very thin from the height he’d just gained, but that was soon to change as Xaekus tried to reason with him, “There’s no ‘letting go’. I own you, now, Leopold. We’re lucky you have no ties to this place, either.” The pressure was felt first in Leopold’s chest. It quickly spread through his neck and arms as he felt something swell. He looked down to see something he’d never seen on his body before. There were lines appearing throughout his body. At first, he didn’t recognize them, but after observing he was reminded by the musculature Xaekus had. All the cuts in his skin, as if it was stretched on a striated stone. They felt like splinters in his flesh, on the inside, but he loved seeing every little fiber of muscle cover some underneath, growing him slowly. “Ah, you’re accustoming to the pleasure of seeing yourself become powerful, is that it?” Xaekus groaned as he pleasured in his disciple’s growth. “N-no… I won’t… fall for this…” Leopold stuttered, feeling his legs begin growing as well. “Is that so? Here, I’ll let your hands go free so you can alchemically melt your bindings.” Xaekus said. The chains untied themselves from Leopold’s hand, simply holding him up. Leopold tried making the gestures that would allow him to turn metal into mud for a few seconds, but he couldn’t. The pain was not nearly as terrible as the pleasure his arms were receiving, growing thick and round. His shoulders began growing upward and out, causing the chains to clank as they moved around to hold him up. “Ohh…” Leopold moaned, trying to finish his simple spell. “That’s right, you can’t. And since you won’t take advantage of your free hands,” Xaekus said, letting the chains fix themselves onto Leopold’s torso, and not his arms, “I will use them for you…” Xaekus controlled Leopold like a puppet- a growing puppet. Leopold groaned as his chest pushed outward, letting his back cave in back. This helped with the growth of his abdomen, crackling with every pump the small muscles made out from Leopold’s stomach. He groaned as the weight pulled the chains into his skin, pinching between the links. The chains bit into him as muscle fought back, trying to break Leopold free without his willing so. As the puppet, Leopold’s hands reached around and fondled him. Even though they were his flesh (however growing) Leopold’s hands pinched his nipples without him wanting to. He certainly never knew they felt this good and meaty before meeting Xaekus. He moaned as his hands forcibly pulled and tweaked them, eventually rubbing the meat that was rounding out from a lack of space. Xaekus laughed thunderously as Leopold became bereft of his own will to fight pleasure. “Do you still not want to submit?” Xaekus boomed, making Leopold’s hands rub the growing erection. Leopold must have been about six inches at the beginning, but now it seemed to have become twice as long. It looked thicker than Leopold’s arm had been before the growth, veiny and red from the amount of blood surging through it. “N…N…” Leopold moaned, feeling the white lubricant stream out of his growing cock go through his fingers. The pre was slick, helping his hands move faster as Xaekus pushed them to and fro. Leopold could barely think anymore. “Do you remember how to use your alchemy, Leopold?” Xaekus asked, forcing the growth to go faster. Leopold’s legs began to thicken quickly, sounding off a crunching with pounds of weight that quickly grew onto Leo. He finally whimpered as the sensation of his balls churning blew them up to the size of oranges. He could hold on no longer and began moaning loudly, letting drool drip from his mouth. His pleasured voice was interrupted by the groaning of the chains as they cracked around Leopold’s waist. “Yes, grow, my pet. Grow until you are a walking monolith of masculinity, breaking through your obstacles and jumping over them if you so wish…” Xaekus whispered, making one hand explore a place Leopold had never explored before. Leopold moaned with surprise as he felt his now colossal fingers pushed against his buttocks. He felt the round muscles covering its hole protrude outward with growth as Xaekus pressed to find the hole. Leopold finally looked downward at an erection three feet long literally seeping with pre. The pain was almost completely gone, letting him grow undistracted of all the sensations it gave him. “Do you like being possessed by your master, Leopold?” Xaekus asked, growling through Leopold’s own voice now. “Y-Yes! Yes! Please, please grow me, master!” Leopold clamored, Xaekus letting him speak. Leopold could not recognize his own voice, it was not as booming as his master’s, but close. At first Leopold’s hand spread open to push his growing buttocks out of the way, then it quickly pierced through to fuck his hole. He moaned as Xaekus sent sensations running through the fingers, letting them vibrate inside. The chains finally broke as Leopold’s hips thrust backward for his fingers to go deeper, without Xaekus’ wanting. Xaekus laughed as his heaving Leopold fell through the floor, like a giant anchor. The wood floor broke easily simply by the amount of force from Leopold’s fall. He fell to the main hall- empty and cold. Leopold got up to his knees and went on, spreading his legs wide so Xaekus could pleasure him better. "Who has your soul, Leopold?” asked Xaekus. “You, master!” Leopold yelled, balls tightening as he felt his breath shortening. “And who has consumed you?” Xaekus laughed, through Leopold again. “You, master!” “’Till the day you die, mortal, and serve me directly in my realm.” Xaekus said, letting Leopold’s arms widen even more so that they couldn’t jack him off well anymore. Leopold shot out, splashing the doors of his castle with his glistening come. Leopold exclaimed in his now thick, rugged voice out for his master. Xaekus stood at the door, licking the white liquid and smiling at his handiwork. Leopold looked at him, dumbfounded at how small he still was compared to his master. “Do you remember who you are, my disciple?” “No, master.” Leopold said. He thought about it, but his mind was too hazy with the pleasure his cock had given him. He slid his hand out of between his giant buttocks, trying to keep balance. He slowly crawled to his master’s feet. “You are simply ‘Leo’. You will do as I say, and when you behave, I will reward you.” Xaekus said, eating the last bit of come on the doors. “Now, let’s leave this place, go through these doors.” At the command, Leo tried opening the doors, but they seemed locked. Leo felt that they were familiar, but he wasn’t sure how. They were tall- about twelve feet tall, and covered in bricks on the other side, now that he remembered. Why were they covered in bricks? “My champion, if your mind cannot help with an obstacle, have I not given you the power to simply destroy it?” Xaekus said, standing behind him, now. Leo smiled and lifted his arms. They tensed up and revealed an intricate weaving of veins all over. Leo breathed in and then slammed his arms downward- breaking through the wall. He looked at his hands to check for blood, or damage, but only noticed some dirt and sticky come on his hands, from earlier. He smiled and pushed out an exit through the door. Part III: Rise Once Again Bradley finished a cup of yogurt and set it down, preparing the room for another dream walk. Xaekus had glimpse through to figure out what he’d been up to for the past few weeks. Bradley had even said he might bring the stupid experiment into the house. Bradley had accustomed to dream walk to the experiment easily by now, but he wasn’t very good at this type of magic, so he always had a bit of hair or blood of the boy to use in case the signal was bad. “Where are you going off to again, master?” asked Xaekus. He fiddled with his glasses as he finished up some paperwork. “None of your business, Xaekus. Return to your bottle when I’ve left.” Bradley responded, throwing the incenses into the brazier once more. Xaekus waited for a bit for his master to walk into the realm of sleep and dream, staring at the blackness that kept him outside of the room. His small hand touched the black smoke and burned, deep into his existence. He winced and pulled back. His glasses fell as he held onto his burning hand. Then he smiled and prepared to fly through. He did it quickly enough not to destroy him. It still burned through him, ready to tear him apart from all realities. He looked around and saw his master in a deep trance. And how beautiful his master was. Even though he wanted a body to be free, Bradley had always treated him well. Bradley was certainly misunderstood, and hard to work with, but Xaekus still loved to be with him. His company was almost as wonderful as his delicious seed... But Xaekus knew what this was. It was the possession mortals can use on a spirit, no matter how powerful. He dared not use the word, lest it become more anchored in his true name. Xaekus grabbed the bottle that held some of Rafael’s hair and flew back through the smog. He fell to the ground, as if it would help him feel anchored. His form ached, ready to explode into nothingness. Xaekus had prepared this for a long time now, and was at least able to return to his bottle. If he hadn't done so, the ward Bradley had set would've destroyed him for sure. Once inside the bottle, however, Xaekus laughed. The strand of hair was in his hands. Xaekus' comeuppance was at hand. “Isn’t is strange how the master sometimes becomes the servant? And Master Bradley, you’re mine. All mine.”