Search the Community

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.

Took me forever but I finally finished another chapter of this old story. Problem is, when I thought of it, I didn't expect there to be so much for a new chapter. Oh well. Comments are appreciated. Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1510-belly-down/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1525-belly-down-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1530-belly-down-part-3/ Part 4 Casey shuffled in his sleep as the night progressed. He wasn’t conscious enough to be frustrated that he wasn’t sleeping with his phone music playing in his ears. He was still coming to and hearing something nearby. Thump……grunt……thump……..grunt……thump……grunt…. Casey pulled his eyelids up in a squint as he looked up at the ceiling of the athletic dorm with his nose wrinkled and his brow furled. “Wha….” he grumbled as he could hear the sound a little better. Thump……grunt……thump…..grunt…..thump….. Casey looked over to his roommate, Kenny’s bed and concentrated into the darkness to find his bed empty. Rubbing his eyes a little, Casey over again and thought he saw something move and duck under the bed. He went silent and his senses peaked a little as thought that, for a moment, there was another creature besides he and his roommate in the room. Every few seconds, something went up into view slightly before quickly ducking back down. Casey sat up a little, expecting a mouse or a lost wild animal but, rather than that, he found something a bit stranger. The timing of the floor thumping and the grunt were in a perfect rhythm that didn’t slow down as Kenny proceeded to do pushups on the floor. Casey was wide eyed looking at what must have been a familiar red head doing pushups on the floor. Kenny was glistening in the moonlight as he dripped sweat from head to toe. Kenny was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that were clinging to his body as they were the only thing he was wearing. Casey was unsure how to react as he saw Kenny lift himself up and down at a steady pace for more than the entire 2 minutes Casey had watched trying to figure out how to respond. “Kenny?” Casey finally asked after realizing that Kenny might not finish doing push ups at the speed he was going. Kenny was in a zone of his own, taking deep breaths and grunting without hearing Casey. Casey started to snap into Kenny’s ear as he’d proceeded to return to an upward position. It was only then that Kenny stopped and realized he was no longer the only one in the room conscious. Quickly, he sat up as if he hadn’t just done n uncounted number of push ups and quickly went over to his gym shorts and shirt in an attempt to quickly cover himself. “Casey! Shit! I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep!” “I was but then I heard noises. Were you just exercising, buddy?” Kenny was silent for a moment as though he were weighing the odds that he could get away with pretending that he wasn’t just trying to push the floor down. He sat down on his bed and crossed his legs, pressing his hands on each calf. “Yeah….” Casey could see that Kenny was having trouble figuring how to handle the situation and smiled a bit. “You don’t have to be shy” he said. “Once in a while, exercise works fucking magic to get you to sleep.” He was relieved to see Kenny become less red with that comment. Casey propped himself up on an arm and scratched through his bed head. Kenny looked up and his cheeks reddened some at the sight of Casey waking up in his shirtless state with his muscles bulging in the light with his beautifully shining hair.. “You’re really full of energy, huh?” Casey asked. Kenny nodded. “I couldn’t sleep cause I felt like I’d end up beating my head against my pillow. I can’t figure out why I’m so wired.” “Did push ups help?” Kenny looked down as though he were ashamed, which Casey thought was cute. “I’ve been doing them for a while.” “How long?” Kenny didn’t respond this time. Casey got the hint that they were still not close enough for him to speak the truth clearly. Casey yawned, covering his mouth, and shrugged. “Don’t be ashamed just because I’m here, man. I’m sure you’re still glowing after killing the competition yesterday AND killing your weights. You worked hard to break your PA.” Kenny didn’t respond again but that was the perfect opening for a voice to ring in his head. You definitely worked but you're not tired are you, came a voice. Kenny tightened his grip on his calves as he heard Nick awaken within his mind. Casey continued to speak. “Just be sure not to tucker the shit out of yourself, OK? I got work tomorrow so you’re on your own getting a ride to class. Maybe you can get a ride from Tex?” Kenny looked at the ground as if contemplating what to do but he couldn’t hear his own thoughts with Nick speaking. Tex? Oh, I didn’t know you kept some side beef on the side. You’ve already got a beef cake right in front of you. You hungry boys and your appetites. Kenny spoke under his breath without thinking. “He’s not beef. He’s Tex.” “What?” Casey said, hearing Kenny say something out of earshot. Kenny looked up and scrambled what to say. “I said….um….we’ve got beef. He’s been really shady lately.” Nice save, Nick said. “Kenny, we both know that if Joe is in a bad mood, it just means he’s having a great day. When do you not expect him to act that way?” Casey asked. Hmmm, interesting, said Nick. Kenny was having trouble keeping up on his points in the conversation to speak with Nick talking. Oh, I’m intruding on your ‘private’ conversation, huh? “I’ll call him in the morning and see if he’s free” Kenny said to Casey reassuringly. Casey turned in his bed, facing away from Kenny and prepared for sleep before stopping to turn his head. “Oh, and you can use my pull up bar if you need to. It definitely puts me to sleep when I’ve got insomnia kicking my ass.” With that, Casey turned fully away and, after a few minutes, was back to slowly purring in his sleep. Kenny looked at his beautiful back for a few minutes. Umph, you could use that thing to watch a movie on, Nick joked. Kenny got a bit mad at that. “Pervert.” Oh, don’t tell me you don’t want it, Nick said. Kenny didn’t get to respond before Nick came back with another strike at his shell. Oh, I see. You don’t just want that. You want your own, don’t you? Kenny stood up abruptly and went to one of their dorm closet to pull out Kenny’s pull up bar. He ignored the laughing as he attached it to the bathroom doorframe. Even when inside your head, you don’t cease to interest me. We’ll see if we can wrap some of him up for your birthday. Kenny was completely silent and unresponsive as he grabbed the bar and struggled with his first pull up before catching up to a steady and modest speed. The entire time, he couldn’t control the hard and dripping cock that was fighting with his waistband on the way up and down. --- Kenny was impatient as he waited outside the athletic dorms for his friend. “Leave it to Tex to come when he’s ready.” Kenny was wearing one of his largest t-shirts underneath his jacket. It was a little chilly this morning as he tried to keep himself warm and it didn’t help his clothes felt wrong. The sleeves he wore were slightly higher and had shown just a bit more arm than he usually preffered (which was normally just the forearm and outward). Kenny’s jeans were snug and felt like they were leaving his ankles defenseless since he wasn’t wearing long socks and his shoes felt like they fit perfectly, so perfectly that he could feel both ends and moving his toes was now a bit difficult. Kenny’s bag on his back felt a little light but it made sense since the class for today was going to be so short. He’d been waiting outside for atleast 30 minutes waiting before a silver car came around the corner and parked in front of Kenny like a cab that was always punctual. The door on the passenger side opened but Kenny wasn’t pleased. “Come on, princess. We haven’t got all day” came the voice from inside the car on the driver seat. Kenny got in roughly, threw his bag in the back seat and slammed the door shut. “Don’t dent my fucking car!” said Tex as he glared at his passenger. Kenny glared back. “Where were you?!” Kenny said angrily as he buckled his seat. Tex pulled off without a hitch and turned to glare at Kenny’s blue eyes with his own. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? You’re getting a ride from ME. In this car, I’m the only fucking person whose shouting!” exclaimed Joe. Kenny didn’t argue as he looked out the passenger side window. He couldn’t look at Tex and be angry when he was as hot as he was. “I don’t need you fucking pissing me off after Geoffrey just broke up with me!” Kenny rolled his eyes. “Again?” Silence pulled Kenny’s attention to look back at Joe’s face. Already his anger was gone looking at that beautiful face as it drifted off into the road they were on. Tex was a really handsome guy when he wasn’t angry or testy. He had a cleft chin that was molded well with his solft yet firm looking skin as the early showings of a blonde beard were showing across his well crafted chin and his high cheekbones. His manly brow and perfect length blonde eye lashes were like a shield to protect his glistening eyes that shone like the deepest parts of the ocean. Tex was wearing a black windbreaker for a jacket that was doing little to hide his muscles as he drove and his arm muscles would press against the adjustable fabric. Ken could only assume he would only have met someone like Tex face to face thanks to Casey, who was close friends with the school powerlifting team. Tex was one of the largest at over 250 pounds and looking like he had the muscles to bench press with just his neck! Tex made a solid cut at somewhere around 10% body fat and atleast 6’3. His muscles rubbed against each other with some movements because he was so well built which made him just that much harder to contain himself near Tex. It was miracle he was gay but it was a bit of a let down for Kenny that they hated each other and that Tex was in an on-and-off relationship with his boyfriend. Kenny knew that he’d have to face this but he didn’t want to do so with Nick near. That’s hurtful! Nick said with a mock voice that sounded like he was pouting. Kenny ignored him and tried to talk to Tex. “It’s ok. You two will patch up.” “Who said I want us to fucking patch up, asshole?” Tex struck back. Kenny was silent for a moment. You’re really letting this happen, huh? Nick said. Kenny bit his lip as he tried to block out Nick so that he wouldn’t notice his hard-on growing in his snug briefs to no avail. Oh, now I’m caught up. Those within the car didn’t speak for the rest of the trip. When Kenny got out, Tex finally spoke. “I’m not giving you a ride home too. Good luck.” As he drove off, Kenny felt a little stranded as he stood there alone amongst other people heading into the building he was heading to. With reluctance, he headed for the building with his mind in the distance and his feet moving themselves. --- The class ended after a 40 minute lecture from Kenny’s professor. The entire way, Kenny had been doing everything in his power to take notes, stop from thinking about Tex, AND distract Nick from scrambling his train of thought. Distract me? What do you think I am? You can’t hypnotize me with a song like a garden variety snake, Nick said with a huff. Kenny was passing around the corner and heading for the entrance when suddenly he felt warm. VERY warm. Oh good. The delivery's here! Nick said with a laugh. Kenny suddenly panicked and tried to avert the gazes of others as he headed for the bathroom with ‘growing problem’. By the time he’d made it to the bathroom mirror, Kenny had already locked the door, barricaded it with a trash can and was splashing cold water in his face. FINALLY. I was getting sick of you thinking about how thirsty you were during that dry fucking lecture. Kenny looked in the mirror to see his face being moved by someone else with his face but owning red eyes. “What the hell are you doing now?!” Ha! I’m not doing anything. You’re the one drawing the gun, quick dick. You think I didn’t see those images of you watching your friend Tex squatting while you were trying to distract me with that crap about some crappy news you heard on TV this morning? Please, that’s insulting. Kenny was now hunched over and clenching the sink as he looked down and witnessed his 8 inch boner pushing against the crotch in his pants. “What do you mean?” he groaned as he fell to his knees and unbuckled his belt. You didn’t think there were side-effects to all this new size and strength? You're pumping a new level of hormones that you’ve never experienced before. Isn’t that obvious? You’re in a fucking biochemistry class, Kenny. Kenny was on his knees and fighting with his zipper as his cock pushed against the fabric like a caged animal. You’re also getting a mix of what it means to really make a contract with me. Just pretend this is like having a panic attack. Well…. except that you’re pumping cum instead and that you’re panicking because you’re horny as fuck. Kenny struggled to fight this sudden urge as he finally got his zipper unlocked and watched as it bounced out of his pants and stuck straight out from his groin. “No…. stop..” Ok, so that’s getting old. You’ve been fighting the urge to cum all day. That’s not healthy with your new body. I’m surprised your dick hasn’t fallen off or your balls haven’t exploded, quick draw. You’re a man (a growing one anyway). You can’t hide all this pleasure or you’re going to either explode in a cloud of cum or have the bluest balls at the ball, my friend. “Shut up! I’m not afraid to cum!” Says the one who spoke to Casey the beef cake and Tex the New York steak without so much as a trip to the nearest bathroom. Something like this is key if you really want me to keep my end of the bargain. “But—“ “Your butt doesn’t apply here. I’m talking about the growing spear sticking out of your pants” said Nick. Nick was now behind Kenny and rubbing his shoulders. “You’re so stressed with all this bullying and bad friendship and school and wrestling. You’re going to suck at all of them if you don’t rub one out here. Everyone needs a little pampering, right?” Kenny was now on the ground grunting and fighting his pre cum dripping cock as he lay, hunched over. “Ugh, you need me to help you with everything” Nick concluded as he stopped rubbing and suddenly grabbed Kenny under the arms and lifted him up. Kenny had no time to protest as he watched himself in the mirror drag him backwards into the outer wall of the stalls in the bathroom. “While you were dreaming up the latest Spongebob episode to keep me busy, I dug a little deeper and found one of your fantasies.” With no restraint, Nick wrapped both arms around Kenny’s torso and got to work. Suddenly, Kenny had his ass pressed against Nick’s own 7 inch cock as he grinded him and had one hand on his cock and the other on his left nipple. “You’ve never told one you have sensitive nipples have you?” Nick asked as he had a hand dipped under Kenny’s shirt and began rubbing up the nipple in his hand and lightly played with it. His other hand was going to work on Kenny’s cock as he tugged on the modest yet reddened cock. “Oh fuck. I think I’ve found your weak spot” Nick said as he leaned forward a bit and nippled on Kenny’s ear. Kenny groaned with his eyes forced shut as he tried to keep under control in a losing battle. “Stop resisting. You don’t have to hide being horny. You’re gay with jock friends everywhere you look. Even in that mirror there.” Kenny opened his eyes slowly to see that he was in the reflection of the mirror with Nick behind him. Nick’s red eyes were noticeable but Kenny’s attention slowly went to his lifted shirt and then to the muscle he could see in his pants. His clothes looked a bit tighter than before and so some decent thighs were visible against the light fabric he wore. Kenny was grinning as Nick noticed how muscular his torso was now with the two pecs above a defined 6 pack of abs. The pale skin made Kenny’s muscles look like marble as he tightened different ones with every pull of his cock and twist of his nipple. Kenny’s grunts sounded less restrained as he began to get off on himself. “There we go. That’s better. Just let it all out. Give up one good blow and you’ll feel better. Just….one….more…..FUCK!” With a tightening of Nick and Kenny’s muscles, Kenny’s cock launched a white wad of thick cream up and out at the mirror a good distance away. For the next 6 shots, Kenny was pumping come from his sizeable balls that hit the mirror at a downward angle before he began to slowly lose the force behind it. Kenny was exhausted as he slumped on the bathroom stalls by himself, his cock dripping and a somewhat noticeable trail of cum went from the mirror back to him. Nick chuckled a little as he viewed his handiwork from within Kenny’s mind. That’s better. Feels good right? There’s more where that came from. To Be Continued….

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

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"

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

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

Twenty-one Back in the basement Anton opened his eyes groggily as he heard the old, squeaky door open. “I’m here”, he yelled exhaustedly and pain travelled through his battered, 580 pound body. “I know”, Matt replied as he closed the door and stepped up to the behemoth attached to the ceiling and floor. “Have some water”, he said and put a cup at his prisoner’s mouth. Anton took a long gulp and spat the water into the football player’s face. “You’ll regret the day you were born once I’m loose.” Matt tossed the cup aside, dried up his face and grabbed the iron bar from the floor. “You’ve said that before. But it seems like the good guys are winning. You’re tied up here, Connor’s being distracted by his tutor and even those hideous wolves have disappeared. Tomorrow, Keith’s uncle, the priest, will be here to exorcise Tomas and then you guys will be back to normal: the skinny runts you were. At the mercy of the big football players. Just like you are now!”, he said and slammed the iron bar hard against the behemoth’s 14-pack. “AUW!” Anton’s loud, pain-filled scream echoed against the basement’s walls as the iron bar dug into his bruised abs. More pain flooded his body as he tried to flex the battered muscles. Another groan escaped his mouth as the bar smacked against him a second time. “I’ll enjoy beating the crap out off your skinny body when all is back to normal. Imagine the pain. Now it feels like I’m hitting a piñata”, Matt said as he took a third swing at the 14-pack. Anton’s mouth hung open in a soundless scream. The air was forced out off his lungs as the iron bar kept raining down on his nearly destroyed abs. “Are you balls as weak as your abs?”, Matt asked. “No…ugh”, Anton grunted as the iron bar softly brushed his cock and balls. “Let’s find out”, Matt said and aimed for the long, soft cock dangling between the titanic quads. Anton passed out and his 580 pound, beastly body went limp as the iron bar hit his cock and balls with a loud smack. “That’ll do for now”, Matt said. He tossed the bar down and left, looking back and grinning over the past out, bruise-covered behemoth. In the shower zone, Alex felt the energy building more and more inside him. The bloated feeling in his stomach from ingesting the large blasts of cum from Logan’s cock, made room for a warmth. He moaned in pleasure as it spread through his muscular, 270 pound body. “Yeah”, he grunted as the sensation of a deep pump invaded every muscle on his frame. He looked down at the drained, fallen star athlete on the floor and abandoned the skinny team captain. He exited the shower zone, strutted through the locker room and barged into the gym. More pleasure-filled moans escaped his mouth as he moved in front of the mirrors and his body began to change. Connor was searching the hallways for the disappeared Anton. Several students yelled in fear as he pulled open the door of their room. He was on his way to the basement as a door on his left opened. A smug grin formed on his lips: his runt brother and his tiny roommate stared up at him. Behind them, two priests appeared. “Uncle?”, Connor asked in disbelief. “Yes. It is me, my nephew”, Father Luke answered, “What has that beast done to you?”. “My friend Anton made me into the man I’m meant to be”, Connor said and put his right arm in front of his abs. Veins exploded on the perfectly round mound of muscle as the beefy, 45 inch bicep came to life. Sean’s and Keith’s pencil dicks surged to hardness as they drank in the sight of the ripped cannonball of meat. “No, he has not turned you into to man you were destined to be”, Father Luke replied sharply, “God gave you the gift of intellect. Your brother had the gift of physical power. That demon and his infernal acolyte interfered with the divine plan. They have corrupted you, my nephew.” “No, they haven’t”, Connor bellowed deeply, “I’ve never felt better!”. He bounced his pecs, making them dance under his skintight shirt, to emphasize his point. “Yes, they have. Deep down you know that I am telling the truth. It is time to set everything back straight and make you return to the path of God”, Friar Luke said and stared up to look his behemoth nephew in the eye. “But I don’t want to be small again”, Connor said like a toddler. “Your brother will be more than willing to show you how to get bigger”, Father Luke replied and patted his nephew’s meaty shoulder. “Yeah. We’ll work out together, bro. You’re body will respond good on the training”, Keith peeped in his high-pitched voice and put his tiny hand on his brother’s thick, hard bicep. “Really?”, Connor asked and playfully clenched his fist, making his bicep swell. Keith’s 2.5 incher leaked a dribble in his briefs as he felt his brother’s 45 inch bicep harden under his touch. “Yeaughn”, he said, “your muscle memory will remember your former size. Your body shall be eager to grow back to like it is now”. “Okay then”, Connor said as he kept teasing his older brother with his bicep, “but I’ll go with you when you take on Tomas. If anything goes wrong I’m big enough to easily overpower him and when he sees that I’m not on his side anymore, he’ll now he has lost.” “Good thinking, my nephew”, Father Luke answered, “Let us get on with it. Father Mark, follow us!”. “You guys stay in your room”, Connor said to his brother and Sean, “I don’t want anything to happen with you. You’ll be the bigger one again when I return”. He ruffled his older brother hair and followed the two priests. “I told you my brother still had some good inside him”, Keith said to Sean as they drank in the sight of Connor’s wide, muscle-filled back. Alex gasped as he stared at his reflection in the mirror: it seemed like his muscles were getting smaller. A smile formed on his face as he realized that he was getting taller. The well-defined muscles on his 270 pound frame were simply adjusting to his lengthening bones. He quickly grew upward, stretching way beyond his familiar 5’7. His head rose up and up and he could see just over the large mirror as his growth came to an end. His body settling at 7 feet exactly. He moaned excitedly as the warmth in his stomach intensified and blasted through his taller body. Connor barged into Tomas’ room, easily hiding the two priest behind his insanely broad back. “It is time”, he said in his deep voice as he stared at the figure behind the desk. Tomas turned around and looked up at his behemoth servant. “Did you locate my pet?”, he asked. “No. Your terror ends here and now”, Connor stated and stepped aside to reveal the two priests. “So, the hour of betrayal is upon me. Haven’t you had enough the first time?”, Tomas said and stared evilly at Father Luke. “Give up your evil ways and return to the path of the righteous. We have already convinced my nephew to abandon the infernal route you had lured him onto. Now, it is your time!”, Father Luke said as he and Father Mark stepped up to the center of the room. “Stop them, Connor!”, Tomas ordered, “Remember what price Anton paid for his betrayal!”. Connor stepped back and positioned his broad back against the door. “You have no more power over him and your other beast is locked away. You will now face the power of the Holy Word of God. Repent your sins and save your soul!”, Father Mark said as he yielded a crucifix in front of him. “Vade retro, Satanas!”, Father Luke screamed and sprinkled Tomas with Holy Water. “Go to the basement, Connor, and get that foul beast that Anton has created now that you are still big enough to carry him”, Father Luke said as he kept sprinkling Holy Water onto Anton. Connor nodded and opened the door. “No! Stay here and crush them!”, Anton yelled in anger at Connor’s broad back. The behemoth left and closed the door. Alex’ muscles sucked in the warmth and began inflating rapidly. His diamond-shaped calves swelled at the back of his long legs and doubled in size in mere seconds. His already meaty quads thickened, the grooves on them deepening. Alex flexed them and they grew even beastlier as veins exploded all over the hard masses of beef. An idea crossed his mind and he quickly grabbed a pair of dumbbells. He returned in front of the mirror and began doing curls to beef up his arms. His tight abs were enlarging and hardening, turning into a hard 12-pack of cobblestone-sized, ripped, steely muscles. Above them, his protruding pecs bulged with mass. The rack of solid, striated muscle pushed his big, sensitive nipples outward and down. The heaving pecs quickly looked like two watermelons shoved under his paper-thin skin. Ripples and striations exploded across the large surface as Alex bounced them in perfect control. He grinned broadly at the sight and tossed the dumbbells aside; they felt like feathers in his empowering grip. He grabbed the heaviest ones and continued cranking out reps. His broad shoulders widened beyond the size of two doors as his delts exploded with mass. The perfectly round muscles looked like beach balls decorated with a thick vein under his skin. At the back his traps shot upward, thickening into a strong bull-sized one. The muscle brushed his ears as he shrugged his meaty shoulders, making striations explode across the surface of the ridiculously wide delts. Alex looked down as he felt something hot grow in the canyon between his hard abs. His cock had swollen to its familiar 10 inches and kept inching upward. It stopped at the top row of his 12-pack as it had doubled in length and girth: 20 solid inches of coke-can-sized meat throbbed against his abs and brushed the bottom of the rack of pecs that hung from his chest. None of his huge muscles compared to his arms, though. Alex had amped up their growth by doing curls as they grew. His biceps ballooned upward and outward, covered in thick veins as he curled the dumbbells up; his thick triceps hardened in a strong horseshoe-shape that exploded at the back of his arms as he lowered the weight. Alex effortlessly tossed the dumbbells to the other side of the gym and extended his arms parallel with the floor. His biceps already formed a football-sized, hard ball of muscle and his thick triceps hung low from his arms. The separation between the two muscles was clearly visible and veins snaked over them, feeding the large slabs of beef. Alex raised his meaty forearms, the size of Logan’s quads at his prime, and brought them in. The orbs of ripped muscle shot upward and outward, doubling in size. Alex continued bringing in his forearms and hardened his flex. The peaks of his intimidating biceps swelled higher and pushed thick veins up, his skin stretching to the max as it tried to contain the muscle. The titanic biceps reached their full new size as Alex tightened his flex: the muscles atop his arms looked like vein-covered pineapples. The 55 inch orbs of meat totally dwarfed the other beastly muscles on his 500 pound frame. A shudder went through Alex and his 20 incher blasted a huge load of thick cum against the bottom of his protruding pecs. His sticky man juice slowly slid down the canyons of his 12-pack as more loads followed. Alex broke his flex and grabbed his throbbing cock, marveling at its size. He put both his big paws on it and still had some room left; he couldn’t even close his paws around the girth of it. He stroked and stroked, shooting cum all over the large mirror. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Tomas’ evil laugh broke Father Luke’s and Father Mark’s concentration. They lowered their attributes and stared at the 300 pound gymnast sitting in front of them. “You didn’t really think I hadn’t foreseen this?”, Tomas asked, “I knew you guys were coming before you did. The infernal spirits informed me of every move you made.” “These lies will not save you from our Holy Church!”, Father Mark said, “Feel the power of Christ! Vade retro, Satanas!”. “Vade retro, Satanas!”, Father Luke joined in. “O, please. Cut it out!”, Tomas declared and got up from his chair, “Those weak, folkloristic chants mean nothing. Veni, Satanas!”. An icy chill invaded the room and hellish chants echoed from the walls. Thunder rumbled outside and lightning illuminated the dark sky; wolves howled frighteningly around the buildings. “I’m too powerful for your weak faith now”, Tomas said calmly, “I’ve decrypted the last piece of the manuscript last week and I’m totally prepared for you religious clowns now. You didn’t really think that Connor was at your side, did you?” Color drained from Father Mark’s and Father Luke’s faces as they heard the door lock magically. Father Mark jumped to it and tried to open it in vain. Panic filled them as they realized they had stepped into a trap. “Wasn’t it way too easy that Connor gave in? Why would he give up his magnificent muscles just like that? He’s not the weak, little boy you know anymore. I’ve shown him his true destination in life! You have no power whatsoever over him; I’m almighty and he knows he’s just a puppet in my command. Now meet your doom!”, Tomas said and raised his hand palms upward. Instantly, Father Mark’s feet left the ground and he floated in the air, totally at Tomas’ mercy. Father Luke invoked God with all his might and prayed out loud: “ Dominus, liberate nos. non abducas nos in tentationem! Connor, my nephew, let the Holy Word return you to the path of the righteous! Repent from your evil deeds, save your soul and come save us in here!”. “I’ve told you before, your weak religion is nothing compared to the forces of Hell! Veni, servitorem diavoli!”, Tomas said. An icy howl echoed through the room as a strange creature jumped through the mirror: it had the body of a rabbit, the tale of a cat and the head of a dog. Sharp teeth flickered in the light as it opened its beak and a short flame shot from it. It howled to Father Luke and sprang toward him. The priest clawed against the locked door and sprinted to the furthest corner as the creature closed in on him. Tomas was playing with Father Mark: he made him hit the ceiling and crash down on the floor repeatedly. The priest was totally in his power. Tomas smiled as he noticed Father Luke running around in circles, being chased by the infernal creature. He raised his other hand and Father Luke also left the floor. Tomas opened the window and made the two priests float outside. “It’s no stairway to heaven, but a highway to hell for you!”, he said and opened his hands. Father Luke and Father Mark shot through the air, lightning striking them as they flew through the dark sky. Their smoking bodies crashed down on two big cactuses and two gigantic, black wolves jumped onto their bodies. Howling at the moon as they devoured their remains. More thunder rumbled heavily through the night and the made the ground shake. Infernal, horned creatures emerged out of nothing and dragged the souls of the two priests to the depths of Hell. A strong, storm like wind rattled the ancient buildings of Orchid University, accompanied by the frightening howls of the wolves. Tomas smiled from his window as he gazed at the scene below. He knew that the hour for the ritual was near.

Tales of a Lust Mage #4 'Halloween, Fiends, and Super Heroes' SUB TAGS; Superhero, Magic, Solo, Forced Growth (some), Hyper (some), Height, Angel, Demon, Characters (Hector, Jenna, Amber, Usiu, Bucardo, Dagger Jaw ), Halloween, Costume Author Note: Thanks for tuning in again, guys. I originally wanted to go with a different direction for my 'Halloween' story, but as you can see, that didn't work out as perfectly as anticipated. I also wanted to shout out to a friend of mine, they know who they are, because I've been wanting to do a superhero story for a while. I bet they didn't think it'd happen! You know the drill, comment your thoughts, even if you didn't like it! Part I – The Costume Shop I’m not exactly sure how to retell this. It was all really strange and happened the spookiest night of the year, Halloween. I thought I was going to just have the usual, boring Halloween I always do. You know, the one where you go to bars and no guys check you out because you wore a banana costume (what was I thinking that year…?) or your friends all ditch you because you don’t like to get ball-to-the-wall drunk. My high school sweetheart, Jenna (joking, I’m gay: we figured it out a few weeks in the relationship), forced me to go to a really exclusive party this year. She handed me the ticket- the only ‘entry’ to this ritzy money bags party. “Wait, don’t they get like, models, and even strippers and stuff for those kinds of parties?” I asked, twiddling my thumbs around the fancy embossed ticket. Jenna was on the phone. “Relax, look, don’t get a normal costume. If you want to fit in or look decent, go to the address I messaged you. It’s an amazing costume shop, a lot of custom made stuff. I already left a tab with them, I told the owner that you’d show them my text message and could get whatever you thought looked good.” Jenna said, on the phone. I grunted, “What?! You can’t keep paying for my junk, you know! Especially frivolous stuff like this.” “Oh stop it, when you get back on your feet you can pay me back.” Jenna giggled. We’d both gone to the same college, too. Now she was a full-fledged lawyer and I was an accountant without work. She offered to get me set up at the firm she worked, but she’d just been hired herself. Her last position let her go with a great severance package a few months ago, so I guess she didn’t mind changing jobs. I walked through the streets, seeing lots of old stores and buildings, all like in a tourist picture for 'old towns'. They didn’t belong in the city. My feet splashed into a puddle, scuffing my shoes. I frowned, knowing I’d become lost. I sat down on a bench and looked at my phone, wondering why I had lost signal. Then my eyes looked upward. I swear I would’ve noticed the tailor/costume shop, I’d passed right by it. Somehow, there it was, two stories high and older than dirt. I walked inside and was greeted by an older woman. I think she was an older woman, she wore lots of older women’s clothes. Her hair was very unkempt; maybe it was the style, big and puffy. She had long nails and waved at me from the counter. I smiled and saw the tons of costumes and normal clothing, all either vintage or extremely well-made, if not both. “How can I help you, young man?” She asked. Her small name tag said ‘Bhain’. I didn’t know how to pronounce that. She had an Irish accent, I think. “Well, I don’t really know. I’m here to get a costume for a party. My friend, Jenna, she,” “Oh yes! Jenna! Oh I love her. Such a nice young lady. You must be her friend, ah, what was your name?” “Hector. Hector Roberts.” “Oh yes, Hector! Well, what are you looking to be this haunted night?” She asked. She spoke with her hands a lot. Before I could answer, customers began swarming her. Each had questions or needed to buy something. I smiled and gave her the okay sign so she knew I’d be patient. I walked around and saw that most of the costumes weren’t silly, but regal. Some were scantly, so I didn’t even dare look at those. “Excuse me, would you like some assistance?” Someone asked from behind me. I turned to see a much shorter young woman looking up at me. She seemed extremely young, but looked related to Bhain. “Oh, well, I’m just looking. I don’t think any of these costumes would fit me correctly, or flatter.” I said. “Well, my mom sent me to help you, she said you were a friend of Jenna’s. Jenna told me to help you however I could last week when she bought a costume. I hope I don’t bother you…” the young girl said, nervously. I smiled, feeling a fellow spaz talking to me. “Well, okay. You can help. Did she have in mind what I should look at? You know, like a costume she might think I look good in? What’s your name, by the way?” I asked. “Amber. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She said, stiffly putting her hand out to shake. We looked for costumes, maybe for an hour. All of them didn’t seem to fit me right. Amber told me her mom could stitch them up appropriately for my size, but I just didn’t find them likeable. I started feeling frustrated at the sight of no costume looking good. I finally told Amber that she’d been very helpful, but I just didn’t think anything was made for me. “Oh…” Amber said, somewhat sad. I was tempted to ask about her age. She seemed really built like a woman, just short and soft-faced. Her overtly-kind demeanor confused me. “Well, I think I need to go get my mom, maybe she could help you better. I promise we can find you a good costume!” She said, walking off. I didn’t argue, she was too fast. I sighed as my hands moved around the racks when I finally noticed the perfect costume. It looked somewhat like a uniform- with a beautiful trench coat, white and blue. I didn’t think it was a costume until I examined its details; buckles, belts, and lots of layers of different fabrics. It looked to be my size, if not a bit form fitting. The costume had feather lining in certain places, which I thought was strange. I saw that it carried a very regal mask- white and carved out of what may have been faux ivory. My curiosity got the best of me as I grabbed the mask and felt its beautiful craftsmanship in my fingers. I finally gave up and put the mask on. Immediately running to the mirror, I saw how cool I looked. The mask covered most of my face, but it had a strong jawline, unlike mine. I still didn’t know what the costume was of and yet I was excited to try it on. “Mr. Hector, everyone’s gone, so we can both help you pick out a cost-” Amber said before stopping right in her tracks. Her mother stood behind her, juice bottle in hand. She didn’t look as concerned. “Too late now, he tried it on, dear.” Bhain said. “Hmm? What’s wrong with it?” I asked. I felt confident in the mask, hidden and somehow accentuated by its design. “Nothing, dear. Would you like to try on the costume? I know it’s not a conventional super hero costume, but we can add a cape and insignia.” Bhain added. “Definitely! I want to try it on!” I managed to say, excitedly. I tried it on and beamed. I looked like a model in a fashion magazine. The outfit looked like a high-class trendy outfit, covered in sharp shapes. Amber placed the trench coat on top. She showed me all the zippers that altered the outfit to shorts if so wished- or small jacket. I couldn’t help but pose. Amber smiled and told me it looked wonderful on me. “How much is it?” I suddenly said, knowing the outfit was probably too expensive to rent or buy, being in its own display. “Take it as a gift.” Bhain said. I suppose my normal ego brought me back to reality when I said, “Oh I couldn’t do that. It’s beautiful, and I don’t even know how to use it on a normal basis. Wouldn’t it get dirty? I’m afraid to even wear it out.” Bhain opened her juice bottle and poured the contents onto the outfit. I almost screamed, but saw that the juice literally dripped off of it. I was surprised! “No, it’s been altered to be defiant of most liquids and other matter. Now take it, before I call Jenna and tell her you’re being stubborn.” Bhain teased. She directed Amber to get me a box and directions on how to keep the suit pristine for the party. I tried to argue about paying for it, or at least paying for some of it with my own money. It didn’t work out. As Bhain looked through some cases she talked about the costume with her daughter. I guess it was small talk, but I tried not to eavesdrop. “Did she leave it here? Did you put it out?” Bhain asked. She always seemed calm, if not happy. He hands pulled out a white cape. It was gorgeous, but I felt the need to wear the outfit alone. It was so cool… “No, Mom. I didn’t even know it was out on the floor. I swear.” Amber said, making the insignia. She later told me it would just stick onto the fabric and could be pulled off for actual wear. Bhain handed me the box and smiled at me once more before I left. She simply whispered to me, “Well, maybe it’s just your destiny to look this good, Hector.” Part II: I Am the One Hiding Under Your Bed I walked into the halls of the great mansion, letting my trench coat sway in the cold wind of Halloween night. I kept my head up high as I passed a few guests. I didn’t know if they were looking at me, but I was hoping they were (for some reason). Jenna stood in a long, gossamer dress. She smoke to a few gentlemen as she played with her martini glass. She bid most of them goodbye as she looked over at me. She gasped and laughed, picking up her dress to come in my direction. “My! A super hero, or are you an anti-hero? What are you, the white vigilante?” She surmised. “Well, Amber gave me a symbol to wear on my belt and chest, but I don’t see any letters, so I think I’m the Super Bird…” I said. I'm not very good at names. “You look great! Does it come with padding? Your shoulders look so wide. You look taller in it too.” Jenna giggled. I laughed, somewhat blushing. I wasn’t attracted to Jenna, but she was definitely someone I wanted approval of. “Oh, I wanted you to meet an old colleague. His name is Bucardo. Bucardo, this is Hector.” Jenna said, introducing us. Bucardo seemed like an extremely serious man. He had a costume of some sort of scaled creature and wore two masks on his shoulders, like shoulder plates. One was a wolf and the other, a bird. “Pleasure.” He said, shaking my hand and smiling. His costume was strange, but seemed so well-made. “Oh gosh, I really don’t want to talk to Gary. He’s such a flake.” Jenna whispered. “You know me, I’m here for the wine.” Bucardo said. “Who’s Gary?” I asked. “Why, the owner of the mansion and host of the party, Gary Codington. I’ve done some accounting for him, among other business. Now he sits with another crowd, however.” Bucardo said, checking his wrist watch. “Oh, you’re an accountant?” I asked, being friendly. My trench coat started feeling heavy. I hadn’t even had a drink yet. “Yes, I forgot to really tell you who Bucardo is. He was in finances back for the last firm I worked for. He managed some of the investments the company did on the side. You remember?” Jenna asked. She hiccupped. “Yeah, I remember, Rourke Law & Consulting. How goes it for them, by the way?” “Well, they’re having a slow start in their new location. It was privately owned by a single person, but Bune over here still works with him through an assistant.” Jenna laughed. She was tipsy. She mispronounced Bucardo’s name and almost lisped all her other words. “I must really be going. I honestly did come for the drinks. I’d suggest you two get home before things get… ugly.” Bucardo said, staring up at the balcony where the lights were turned off. People stood up there, in the shadows. Suddenly, a gray-haired man walked up to us. I didn’t even notice him as he startled Jenna. He touched her shoulders, putting his head close to her he neck. “Why, Jenna Yang, you look marvelous tonight.” He said, rubbing her shoulders. She looked awfully uncomfortable. I would have said something, but he seemed bigger than me… I know. I suck. “Hello, Gary. How have you been?” Jenna said, flattening her tone. She looked like she was ready to puke, but not from the martinis. “What are you this year, Gary? A zombie curtain?” Bucardo said, playing with his wine glass. “Funny, Buck. So funny.” Gary said, stepping back and standing up straight. “I am a vampire, can’t you see from my Victorian outfit?” “You got the undead part right, Gary. I love how sunken-in your eyes look.” Bucardo said. The tension was rising. “Jenna, would you have a dance with me?” Gary asked, ignoring Bucardo. “Oh, I can’t, I’m already drunk, and I might vomit on you. Besides, my date tonight is Hector. Hector, this is Gary.” Jenna responded. I could see the glint in her eye that yelled an S.O.S. at me. I almost laughed. “I see. What is your costume tonight, I can’t tell it matches his?” Gary seemed to joke. I wasn’t sure. “I’m a damsel in distress, Gary. Hector’s my super hero!” Jenna giggled. “Oh, I see. Well, pleasure to meet you, Hector. I’ll see you all around, please enjoy the festivities. And try the food; it’s to die for.” Gary said, leaving before I could respond to his introduction. “See, you are a super hero, Hector. You save me from total creeper-doom.” Jenna whispered. We joked and laughed for a few minutes after Bucardo left. I felt sick to my stomach and didn’t drink. Jenna stopped drinking after a few cocktails, three. I told her I’d be right back and headed to the bathroom. I got lost, of course. I found myself in the library. I had no trouble seeing, although it was extremely dark in the corridors of the mansion. I noticed that there was dust settling on mostly everything- as if the home got little service or use. My landed face to the ground when I heard someone speaking in amongst the shelves. “We should just get it over with now, stupid.” “No, there are few who have to stay alive, or Gary will be pissed.” “I don’t give a shit about what Gary says. He’s about dead, anyway. I can sense the staff missing from his study. I’m starving, man. I need to feed.” “Silence, all of you.” a deep voice growled. I hid myself as I slid upward, trying to glance at the voices’ source. There stood three normal sized men, wearing masks. I was astounded by how realistic the masks were. Their eyes looked like hollow orbs of unsettling glow, and their mouths looked torn open, always smiling wide with giant fangs. Even when they spoke, their monster mouths opened and moved naturally. Amongst them stood a larger man, almost too tall to be human. These rich blokes went all out- The tallest one had vibrant red eyes, and his fangs looked like daggers, jutting out everywhere. “There’s someone here.” The large one boomed. I swallowed my breath and stood, back stuck to the shelf. I held my mouth, hoping to silence any fear-made sounds. “Sounds like we have someone in here, we better kill them now.” “Oh yeah! Fuck yeah! Let’s eat!” one answered as they all ran in different directions. The largest one stepped around, grinding his teeth with the noise that only steel makes against itself. “They’re not costumes, young man.” Said a voice, booming like the monster, yet vibrant. Who was that? I thought to myself. I tried to find the exit quietly. “Me, the guise you wear. I’m not simple fabric, boy.” the voice responded. “What?!” I rasped loudly. The monster grunted, laughing a bit as he knew where I was now. “I said, ‘I’m not simple fabric’, BOY!” the voice yelled. My head throbbed. “Oh, a celestial. My favorite flavor.” The monster said, standing behind me. “Oh fuck.” I managed to squeak out, looking back at the monster. I heard the creature smack its mouth, preparing to eat me, possibly whole. I closed my eyes the moment he lifted his giant arm above his head, ready to smash me to an easy digestible mush. I heard a massive crunch. I whimpered, as the little wimp that I am. But I felt little pain. I opened my eyes and saw my forearms pressed up against the creature’s fist. My mouth went agape as I was holding his force up with my puny arms. “Defend us, boy!” the vibrant voice yelled, angrily. “Mmmmmnope, I think I’m going to run!” I said out loud, running off into the corridor. I fell to my face again, but quickly jumped up and went on my way. The adrenaline really helped, I guess. The monster growled and began pacing after me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m so dead!” I yelped, looking for a place to hide. I heard the music of the actual party coming from the west, the direction I was running in. Once again, a surge of weight pulled me down. I couldn’t breathe well and ran into what seemed to be a bathroom. Fool as I am, I locked the door in hopes to deter the monsters. I ran to the sink and slipped, hitting my head on the hard marble sink’s side. I fell to the ground. It’s almost funny, I thought I was going to die from the head wound and not the monster’s mouths. “Stupid boy. I can’t believe you’re the only celestial blood around.” The voice said. I passed out as I looked at my hands. Something was different with them. They looked veiny, pulsing even. I felt my consciousness leave me as I felt them cramp up. Part III: A Hero, Born I awoke, dizzy. I coughed and dragged myself to the toilet. I felt a lack of balance as I did so, even on the ground. “What the heck happened...?” I asked myself, out loud. “Do people no longer know about the beasts that roam the night, afoul bastards whom create turmoil to the poor souls of Earth?” the voice boomed, annoyed. “Okay, I’m going to need you to show yourself, if you’re going to keep talking to me.” I said, noticing my sleeves were gone. My arms looked weird in the darkness. “I am Iusiu, boy. I am an angel, as you might call it. I have no form but the garb on your skin.” He said. “Oh great, so the monsters back there were probably a hallucination, just like you, then. All’s well, I just need psychiatric help.” I said, looking for a light. I was able to walk, following the wall as my crutch. Walking was different, too. The dizziness made it worse, as I felt like my stance was widened. “Fool, I am no mental illusion. Look in the mirror, the light is right there.” Usiu said. I flipped the light on. The mirror stood across the room. I saw a figure, muscular and wide. He wasn’t massive, or super-built, but definitely defined. I almost jumped for the door, assuming it was someone else. Then I saw its movements follow mine. I slowly walked to the mirror and finally understood. I was about five feet tall at the beginning. I couldn’t believe it, I’d hit at least a foot in growth. I passed my hand through my hair and noticed my chiseled lats and abs. My hair had grown a bit out of control, down to my neck. I’d just gotten preppy crew cut a few days ago. Not much of my face changed, but it looked thicker, manlier. My neck fitted it well, curving into rock-hard shoulders. I noticed my costume wasn’t the same. “I changed my form so those beasts do not recognize us. Sadly, they can change their form too. It is a shame they already ate a poor mortal a few hours ago. The fool who unleashed them will lose control of them soon and they will feed on everyone if we do not hurry.” Usiu said. I looked at my clothes and coughed. My mask lay on my neck. It was more of a helm now. My trench coat had been changed to great shoulder pads, like silver (I still don’t understand very well how I knew what pieces turned into what). My shirt had become a simple harness, hiding inside the buckles and straps. They had grown two intricately made faux wings, like an angel’s. The pants had changed to a skimpy pair of shorts, perfectly accentuating my apparently grown junk. I was so confused and looked at the bulge that stuck round and out from my shorts. They looked more like briefs, tight to my skin. I lost my shoes, only wearing blue boots. “H-holy… What happened to me?!” I yelled. “I had to make some changes, but it has cost me a lot of energy. I didn’t have much to begin with, and there’s no sun to obtain energy from right now, so we must make haste.” Usiu said. “No, no! We are not making any hastes! You need to make another costume, or some shit, because this is too revealing!” I yelped. “I will not. I only looked through your communicative technology to see what people wear on haunted nights.” He said. “What?! You mean my phone? No wait, I had some pretty bad pictures on there! God damn it, you only checked the first picture, for that gay underwear Halloween catalogue! Change into something else!” “No. I will not. We need the energy to fight that Codington man and his attached fiends.” Usiu said, flatly. I wanted to cry. “Excuse me, are you in there, Hector? I thought I heard you. Are you okay? You’ve been gone for forty-five minutes, I’m really worried.” Jenna said, knocking on the door. By impulse I ran to the door and slowly opened it. I managed to squeak out a nervous, “Yeah, I’m totally fine, Jenny.” “You didn’t drink at all, you sure you’re okay?” She said. I opened the door slowly. She gasped and stared at me. I felt my face turn bright red, extremely exposed and semi-naked. “Wow, Hector! I can’t- holy shit, you’ve been working out!” She laughed, “And you’re not afraid to show it, I see! Did you get both outfits free?! I don’t actually mind, they both fit you very well… You belong in a Victor’s Secret catalogue!” How funny. I wanted to hide behind my mask. I clumsily fumbled around as I put on the mask, trying to fix my hair. “You even got another insignia, on your chest? Wow, it looks like a real tattoo, even.” She said, poking my pectorals. They were so defined now. I kept forgetting to breathe. I looked down and saw it. I felt my mind unlocking knowledge from somewhere, I have no idea where. It was Usiu’s name, in a symbol. “W-well, I like to go… All out, you know me!” I chirped, like a robot. We heard a scream. I instinctively grabbed Jenna and pushed her into the bathroom. I said, “Stay in there, something bad is going down. If I don’t come back in five minutes, get out.” Before running off. I felt somehow brave, ready to take on anything. I ran to the ballroom to see a man gnawing into another. People were running away, screaming. The man chewing on flesh quickly dropped his disguise, showing off his ugly true form. There was blood. I hated blood so much. I wanted to run away like the little bitch I am, but I couldn’t. Usiu forced courage into my chest. “Stop at once, demons! You are all under my power!” Gary yelled. I assumed it was him. “Shut up, Gary.” One of the demons said, biting into his neck. After chewing on his meat, he spit it out and kicked Gary around, letting him bleed to death. “Your meat is gross.” The giant demon-monster crashed into the ground, breaking the tiles underneath him. He laughed, already finishing a poor rich-guy’s corpse in his mouth. I wanted to puke. “Let me enter.” Usiu said. “What?” “Let me enter your soul. Don’t be afraid, I will protect you if you protect me. If we don’t do something, more people will die.” Usiu responded. I shivered and closed my eyes. “Fine. Let’s do whatever it is you want me to do. Enter my soul, or whatever.” Immediately I felt a surge of electricity run through me. I twisted as the energy ran through me. I forced my hands into the wall, cracking it as my arms began to grow. I felt my stance widen once more, pushing my legs with more musculature. My clothes did not tear, simply unaccommodating my size. I saw my biceps swell like bowling balls as my chest jutted outward. I blushed as the growth pushed my cock upward, almost ready to burst out of my tiny shorts. They somehow stretched as my ass pushed up, perfectly round. I didn’t know how to deal with all the sensations, but I had no time to react anyway. “Who are you?” The giant demon said, finishing his meal. He was massive too. I heaved my giant chest up and down, trying to breathe. Crap, what should I call myself? I can’t use my name or Usiu’s, I thought to myself. I noticed some dumbass trying to film the spectacle on his phone for the internet. The ‘Super Angel’ was a terrible name. Usiu whispered all the aliases he could think of. I picked one that I thought fit well. I somehow could think as one with Usiu. I knew he’d speak as one with him. “I am the Seraph, defender of the weak, destroyer of evil, paladin of retribution.” I said, much deeper than my actual voice. I sounded incredibly manly and eloquent. I still thought what I said was terribly stupid. God I wish I’d not said that. The idiot filming on his phone even spelled it wrong when he posted it, with an f. How do rich people stay so stupid? The demon laughed. He didn’t even move, he just stayed crouched at the top of the giant stairs. “I also know of you. You lost your name, and you wish to get it back. You were tricked worse than how you trick mortals, and now have the bodies you wanted. You can no longer do much in the other realms, and have even become a laughingstock to other fiends.” I said, somehow knowledgeable. He growled heavily. “I have a name, and you shall remember it well for it is the way I killed you. I am Dagger Jaw. I’m going to rend your pretty little head into a nice butter for my toast.” He quickly jumped at me, using the full force of his giant legs. I heard the resonating sound of the floor cracking as he jumped and attacked me. His mouth opened wide, literally splitting apart just to fit as much as he could inside. I reacted by stepping back and smashing his face into the ground. Before he could get up the four demons jumped at me. They were much smaller than me now, but very quick. One bit into my neck as I grasped two in well-made catches. My hands had become far bigger to accommodate my thick forearms. It wasn’t the strength alone that killed them, but the lightning I shot through them. Their hollow eyes lit up in a shocking blue, leaving burnt husks. I quickly threw the last demon across the ballroom before Dagger Jaw reached out and punched me in the gut. I wasn’t fast enough to squeeze my brick abdomen- but I was able to take the shock well enough to be thrown back. The first small demon to attack me gnawed on my neck as he tore at my back with his claws. I had hit the wall and smashed myself against it, letting the demon fall off like a burnt leech. “Okay, okay. I can use electricity, but can I fly or anything?!” I yelled at Usiu. I guess he responded by letting arcane symbols grow out of my back. I expected wings, but this was good enough. I flapped them and slowly lifted off. I’d never flown before, even in a plane, so it was very weird. Dagger Jaw grabbed a table and threw it at me. I tried dodging but decided to simply knock it out of the way. I lost some altitude. He squatted down to prepare a massive jump. I had no time to pay attention to the other two demons. Dagger Jaw quickly flew up at me and slashed at me with his great claws. I was lucky enough to drop my wings so I could fall out of the way. “I’m running out of energy, use your powers wisely, boy.” Usiu whispered inside me. The two smaller demons quickly spun around my feet with black rope. I really hope it didn’t come from somewhere weird, it felt slimy. I lost my balance and fell backward. Before they could get away I grabbed one and put him in front of me, sensing Dagger Jaw coming down at me. He didn’t care as his claws went right through his lackey, actually ripping into me. I screamed. I dropped my hands down, feeling the incredible pain inside my stomach. Dagger jaw salivated above me, dripping disgusting drool on my face. “You’re mine now, ‘paladin’.” He rasped. His giant mouth quickly snapped around my arm in one last hope of defense I put up. He coughed a laugh, knowing he’d won. “I wouldn’t laugh.” I said, grabbing his head with my other free, non-bloody hand. Dagger Jaw tried to move his mouth, but my arms grew in size, too big for even him to chew on. I remember watching the video and saw my eyes glow a bright blue, right before shocking the shit out of Dagger Jaw. Dagger Jaw pulled away but couldn’t move far, my massive right hand holding onto his forehead. I grabbed him in both arms and began squeezing. It felt so good to be this size. It felt amazing to feel this strong, crushing a giant monster’s head between my hands. “P-please… have mercy o-on…” Dagger Jaw muffled. I was about to say something clever, I think. “Sorry, I can’t hear you, the reception is tightening too quiet.” Wait. No. Okay, I’m not very good at the puns and catchphrases, yet. But I didn’t fuck up my moment because I heard the sound of sirens before I could say anything. I turned back to hear them and Dagger Jaw slashed at me once more. He didn’t keep attacking and ran off, heavy enough to leave shattered footprints in the ground. He even broke through the walls, rather than finding an exit. I held my wounds and noticed they started healing. It was slow, but Usiu put the mass back together. “That’s amazing…” I huffed, falling backward. “No time to rest, boy. I have something to tell you, which may be of importance. The soldiers are coming in. You need to escape. Also, although I can heal you, right now I don’t have the power to stop the growth.” Usiu said. I looked down and saw my arms pushing upward. I was growing again. “Wait, what?! You said you were out of power! You’re telling me you need power to STOP me from growing?!?” I yelled at him. I knew we were alone, I could feel it in the air. “No, boy. The problem lies in my lack of practice. I’ve been dormant for about a few centuries, now…” “Are you fucking kidding me?” “Do not foul your tongue in my presence.” “Are you serious?!?! Now is not the time!” I yelled, getting up slowly. I couldn’t even stand correctly, my legs were becoming too wide. “Run, escape to the woods. You’ll either explode in a bolt of lightning or…” I didn’t bother to ask more questions. I ran and broke my own escape through the mansion. My arms were like giant hammers at this point, smashing through walls like a gingerbread house. It still felt bad on my skin, but I was more worried about exploding. I didn’t want to explode. I finally found myself in the woods, far from the scene. I could see helicopters flying around, looking for suspects, etc. They somehow missed me. “Boy, there is one way you will not die from the explosion…” Usiu said. I fell backwards, no longer able to balance my body. I felt my groin swell massively, finally popping out my genitals out of the shorts. Usiu pulled back the clothing, letting the growth become slightly more comfortable (if that could have been possible). I moaned as I saw my giant cock swell. I could barely lift my arms. “You must release your energy.” Usiu whispered. I didn’t bother to fight and began rubbing the massive erection up and down. I can’t explain very well what it felt like. I could feel the pulse run through my blood, its own separate sensation of electricity pushing through every bit of flesh I have. Every time my heart pulsed, I could feel it force every bit of me stimulate. I moaned as my hands tried wrapping around my giant member. I couldn’t see much of anything, my pecs were trying to eat my face. I finally started feeling my climax and roared my heavy, manly voice. With a flash, I ejaculated. Thunder literally filled the sky, dropping down a bolt of blue lightning. I felt the energy shoot upward- the way science tends to explain lightning. I somehow reached the sky with my force. It was quick, so fast I couldn’t really examine all the sensations. It didn’t matter anyway, because I was ejaculating copious amounts of seed all over myself. With every gush, I shrunk. I roared and roared with every spurt of cum. It felt amazing, like a release that didn’t stop running through me. I crawled for a bit before standing up. I grabbed onto a tree and heard the rain come down, cloaking the night in even more darkness. Usiu pushed my now overtly-sore body in flight. I somehow found my apartment. “You can make rain too…?” I rasped, so tired speaking was difficult. “No, that must have been a stroke of luck, or someone decided to help us.” Usiu whispered as I landed on my bed. I felt paralyzed from the pain. “I suppose you are paladin material after all.” Usiu said, letting me finally sleep. I couldn’t stay awake long enough to tell him he was awful and I wanted him to go away. Somehow, I didn’t want him to. I wanted to be a hero, and maybe that’s why I found him hidden in a chain around my neck. I had a lot to learn, I figured out quickly. I didn’t ask him to leave that morning after, even with the strange ejaculation. Maybe I liked it all. I found my phone mostly unscathed as my memory jumped towards Jenna. I freaked and looked through, hoping for her safety. I was so afraid. She left me a message that said, “I don’t know what happened last night! I think I was so drunk, but thank goodness I got home before things got crazy. The taxi driver said you were with me? Gosh, I’m sorry for all of this. That was a terrible costume party. I really hope you’re okay.” I was relieved. Holding the phone up to my face was very tiring on its own. Usiu said I’d accustom to our powers soon enough, so I simply rested until I could at least get up. I didn’t bother to ask questions, my mouth costing too much energy to move. I simply held my hand on the insignia on my chest. I fell asleep. _______________________________________________________________________________________ “F-fuck… I’m… No… I…” Gary said, holding his wound. He just needed to heal his wound. The cops hadn’t found him, or the secret studies. He crawled around, looking for things to cover the bite with. He then stopped, trembling. Too afraid to turn, he fell to his knees. The light of the doorway outlined a demon’s shape. Gary had no power to subdue even him, and he knew his fate belonged to the demon’s claws. The demon fell to the ground, black blood gushing from its mouth. A large, glowing white hole went right through his gut, burning slowly before fizzling out. Someone stood behind the creature. “Gary. You’re a terrible excuse for a conjurer. I’ve met children who are better conjurers than you. You should have stayed with necromancy, you were at least half decent at that.” Said the woman in the beautiful red mask. She pulled up her dress so she wouldn’t step in the demon’s blood. “Y-you! This was you?! You took my staff! That’s why I lost control of them, you fucking bitch!” Gary spat out before blood gushed from his mouth. “It wasn’t just her,” Bucardo added, flipping on the lights. He pulled of the masks on his shoulders and let the snake-skin shed off. His skin had a perfect, fair tone. He snapped his fingers, letting a black suit fit around him, pinstriped. He fixed his tie and ram broach. Gary cursed at him while he fiddled with his diamond cufflinks. “Well, you see, Gary. You should have stayed small business. You’ve done a great job, honestly, doing terrible things here in New York. But the fact is, you rose up too fast. I’ve had bigger fish to fry, but I decided I needed to stop you before you became too much of a problem.” The woman said. “But- but you’re an angel-worker! You can’t do these things!” Gary said, coughing up more blood. “On the contrary,” Jenna said, pulling off the mask, “I’m an angel-worker by nature. I decided Bune here would be much more powerful in helping me ruin you. Did you notice how bad your stocks fell in the last two months? That was him. He can do that, you know. From time to time I have to use sub-lunar spirits.” She held his face as she slowly kneeled down to look at him. She kissed his forehead and trembled her lip. Jenna didn’t seem happy for a short second. “Do you want me to go find ‘Dagger Jaw’?” Bune asked. He stood straight. “No, our pact is complete. Thank you for your help, oh powerful spirit. I release you.” Jenna said, pulling out a knife of pure obsidian. “Jenna, please… I deserve a trial, by the council, remember? Those are the rules…” Gary rasped. “Dearest Gary, The council has no effect on my mental state, if physical. My methods may be unorthodox…” Jenna said, holding the knife at his neck, “but they exterminate more disgusting bastards like you than someone else’s.” The knife slit through, releasing a fountain of red, like her dress. End

TALES OF A LUST MAGE #3 by roboprobo SUB TAGS; Magic, Subtle Growth, Hyper (some), Height, Characters (Bradley, Xaekus, Hunter, Maker, Bahketh), Genies (Efreeti), Demons, Archers The following work of fiction portrays fictional characters in sexual situations. Please do not read if you interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format/medium. Author Note: I apologize sincerely for the length if it is a bother. I really wanted to set up the universe and then move onto more sexual themes. I still plan to keep expanding, growing, if you know what I mean, but for now I really wanted to get some muscle to grow in the actual text. Part I – Bronc, Imps, and Fire “All right, I officially end your punishment, Xaekus.” Bradley said, tearing a small strip of paper in two. Its arcane symbols seemed to burn the paper into ash. “YES!” Xaekus exclaimed, forming a human guise he accustomed to. He didn’t have enough energy to create a tall guise to match his beautiful master. Right now he couldn’t care less about how annoyed he was at Him, he just wanted to feel His skin’s energy. “No, no stop. Please, you’re going to choke me with your foulness.” Bradley muttered, looking through his files as Xaekus flew up and embraced his master’s arm. “What are you doing, master?” asked Xaekus, floating as his lower body fizzled into smoke. He hadn’t gathered enough energy to maintain full guise. Looking at his master’s full, striated pecs, He decided to size himself down to land right in the cleavage. Bradley looked down at the small, muscular, doll-sized man between his pectorals. He wished he had more than his white tank on. “Do you remember Barry Yates?” Bradley mumbled, walking into a storage room. “Barry Owen Yates?! They call him ‘Bronc’ nowadays! Yes, you helped him get as big as he is now, didn’t you?” Asked Xaekus, excited. He looked over and saw some file cabinets opened and fluffed into a mess. His urge to clean won over. The imp flew off to clean as Bradley responded. “I helped him before. He didn’t want to take steroids because he wanted to stay lean and clean. I can respect that. At the time I had just set up the business. He called me recently, said he’d saved up enough money to get himself massive with my help, to inhuman proportion. I’d told him I could give him a consultation, but no sex. I have to use magic to keep his cock from breaking me in two.” Bradley said. “Oh, I can transform him, sir! And I can do the other part too…” Xaekus trailed off as he finished cleaning the files. “No, I’d rather you didn’t. You still prove unruly and his general libido would easily let you possess him. I’m not stupid,” responded Bradley, finally finding the big bronze chest he’d tied up in blue chains. Xaekus managed to bite, “Sir, you never let me have any fun anymore!” before seeing the chest. He became silent. His glamour faded and turned him into a simple puff of blue smoke. “You don’t mean to use him, do you?” Xaekus muttered. “I do. I can control him easier because he’s been locked away from this world for centuries. I plan on syphoning a pact if the consultation with Bronc leads there. Now let’s see, what artifacts do I have that belong to him?” Xaekus peeked from behind his master and fiddled with his glasses as he tried to make some guise. He was nervous. Bradley unfolded a handkerchief and pulled out a small idol from the brass chest. The crude clay statuette was of a four armed figure with horns. Its red paint had chipped away long ago, leaving only a few marks that Bradley had tried keeping intact. Maybe he’d use a spell or two to fix the thing, but he didn’t want the subject to anchor any more into the normal world. “How old is that thing…?” Xaekus managed to ask before looking over to the beginning of the storage room’s dark side. Xaekus himself was no hero, but he certainly didn’t do the things a lot of the artifacts Bradley had there did. The familiar grumbled and decided maybe he’d go to his bottle or clean the house. Bradley’s left hand drew an arcane symbol that acted as a small flashlight. The darkness seemed to try eating the simple light as Bradley’s eyes examined the ancient idol. “Hmm. How old indeed.” Part II – Four Branches Lit Aflame The winter was terrible, at least by what Papa had said. Pa was a great man. He took me in when my mother had died. He said we were once a great tribe. The war with the Yellow clan had ruined us, even if we had won. Both clans had died out when the winter came after. We’d traveled a long time afterward going South- the lands where people did not move through the land. Fairly close to our territories in the south people had come and built a small village down in the valley. We didn’t travel anymore but chose to live farther up in the mountainous region, away from the village. Papa had taught me to do many things. He taught me how to forage, hunt, and fish. He told me all the great legends of our tribe. The saddest was the last one, that our Great Spirit guardian had sacrificed itself in the war. I asked him if that was why we had become so alone; he never answered. The winters were never cruel to us as they had been in the years before my birth. We hunted a large amount of game and ate as much as needed. Eventually we settled fairly low on the mountain, away from the village. Even both of us could not always eat all the food we caught. I was proud of my Pa. I was now eighteen years of age. I was very worried about my papa. He’s changed so much since that cold night. It was a few nights after I’d just hit my seventeenth year. I was afraid. I was not very good at hunting or fishing. I had become very adept at planting and creating things with wood. The Wise Woman of the village taught me to plant things like squash and carrots, so we started to plant things at our home. Her husband had taught me to build things after we traded many furs with them, so our small house is very sturdy. Papa was not very good at these things because he was stuck in the old ways of our people. That is what the Wise Woman had said. “We’ll follow the tracks in a bit, boy. We should rest up a bit. These muddy trails make it easy to spot them, but aye, my boots look terrible.” Papa laughed, putting his bow down. I saw the prints in the snow leading uphill too. Pa smiled. I was worried because he was ill. His lungs heaved with phlegm as he sneezed. We sat down and began snacking. “Should we really be hunting, still? I think you need rest, Pa.” I told him. “Nonsense. I’m fine. You just keep scouting for me until you can hunt as well as I. Then you can worry about me getting rest, boy.” Pa said, chewing on dry meat. “Yes, sir. I wish you’d let the Wise Woman give you medicine. You’ve been sick since the last frost.” I said, drawing in the mud with a stick. I was going to plant seeds whenever we got home from hunt. The dirt was starting to dry the perfect consistency for new seed. Pa began coughing hard and looked up at me as he spit up foulness. He asked me to look away. People died often because of illness, so I began to worry more. I think he could see it. “Calm down, lad. I will be fine,” He huffed, “And you need to be less like your mother and other father.” I didn’t think about it much, so I asked, “Pa, what were my parents like?” I chewed on some salted meat. We would dry all our meat this way to carry around. It’d make me very thirsty, but the stream was on our trip after this deer hunt. Maybe I could convince Papa to get medicine then. “Your mother was a wonderful, smart woman. She was very pretty and your father went through some trouble before the war to marry her. And your father, well, he was smaller than me, like you are. That’s certain.” He said, poking my arm. I laughed a bit. “He was a much smarter man than I ever was. I really wish he’d been around to see you grow up. He’d do a much better job than me. Both he and your mother.” He added, seeming sad. I didn’t ask these kinds of things much. “He was smart enough to name you for what you’d be really good at. Maker.” He said, packing up his ration of food and preparing to seek the deer. His name was always Papa to me, but in the village they called him simply Hunter. We went up the trail, seeing the prints go off. This was no problem, as the mud of the beginning spring left the prints terribly obvious. We’d never gone into this part of the forest for as long as we’d lived in the area, from what I could scout. The woods were extremely thick and many of the plants had gone green with moss- there seemed to have been a fire in the area. Pa had mentioned that the ‘Hidden Woods’ were cursed but as long as two people went in together and wore amulets, they’d be fine. So we cut through the woods quickly and reached the entrance to the mountain’s side. I’d never seen a cave like this. It looked like the mouth of a beast; jagged stone coming from the ceiling and ground of the cave. Mossy logs and brush lay all over the ground outside, like Pa’s feet moved quietly, pointing into the cave. It’d be too dark to see if we went in too deep, so we had to decide what to do. “Maybe I could go in and scare him out? I doubt there’s a bear in there or anything. If there is, it’ll get the deer before it gets me.” Pa said. “No, I’ll go.” I told him. “I’m not as strong or have great aim, Pa, but I can probably move faster than you.” “Ah, fine. I’ll admit you that.” Pa said, looking for a place to hide from the deer. I looked back and saw his pale skin under his clothes and cap. I’d hurry so we could get to the valley. My feet were very quiet and I tipped through, finding the best footing to sneak. My eyes adjusted to the darkness as I went deeper into the cave. Then I saw it. I wish I hadn’t. An altar sat alone in the spokes of the cave’s cold floor. I didn’t know what it was back then, but now I do. Atop the broken altar sat a small figurine. It was beautiful, looked like a real person, but smaller. I didn’t have time to see everything as the deer stood in front of it. I hadn’t made any great kills before and by instinct I shot the young buck quickly. The arrow pierced the buck’s neck all the way through. I was amazed and set another arrow in case it wasn’t enough. The deer lay its head atop the stone surface. It then fell to the ground. Without much thought I went to the deer and pulled out my knife. I was a fool for being in such a hurry. Maybe the evil one whispered to me without me knowing. I was just trying to get ahold of the buck’s neck to drain it. And that’s what I did. I pulled the buck’s head to the altar’s surface and slit its throat. I was stupid as I whispered out loud how great it was I’d found it. Then I heard the whispers, almost immediately. He whispered behind me as the blood dripped over the altar slowly. It pooled. I quickly turned and held my knife ready to attack whatever was in the cave. Nothing there. My other hand went looking for my amulet, failing to find it. It had fallen off, or maybe I had never put it on. I was doomed from the start. “Light… Fire… The room…” I thought I heard. Although I certainly didn’t want to follow the command, whatever it was saying, but I could definitely see better if I had. I quickly pulled out a small torchlight I carried for these situations (not that they happened often) and struck it against my belt many times. I tried to stay calm, but I shivered in fear of whatever was in the cave with me. “The room… Light… the room…” My small torchlight burst into a flame! I threw it at the altar, no longer worried about the buck. I grabbed the knife with both hands to defend myself and finally saw it. The flame landed right in the altar’s small brazier. The figurine finally showed its detail in full as the fire glowed. “Ah… It’s so good… to be back.” It muttered. His voice was somewhat like a puff of smoke, always blowing up from the flame. I fell backward in cowardice. The flame danced about chaotically at first, somewhat shaping itself. Eventually it did shape itself above the brazier, like a lantern, midair. I held my breath. “What a helpful young… Man. I’ve been gone for so long… What an offering!” the lantern blurted out before laughing hysterically. I clenched my teeth, trying to think of when to run away. “Oh, this is not the proper way for me to look like,” He said, sounding much clearer than before. He flickered around and stopped in different places of the area, observing the objects of the altar. “My, I remember this gift. What an artisan, he was. He was one of my favorites…” He said, covering the figurine in its flame body. The figurine didn’t burn. The flame seemed to disappear into the statuette, making it glow a strong red. “I’m glad someone called me back. I wonder where everyone’s been! I’ve got a bone to pick with them if they come back. They’re probably dead… fools, all of them.” The figurine said. I could feel his sight upon me. It felt burning hot, but inside, skipping my skin. I trembled and closed my eyes, not knowing what to do. I was so afraid of this thing. I didn’t know why. “Do you plan on sitting there or coming to meet your new friend?” He said, cackling a laugh at the end. I opened my eyes and saw the figurine sitting at the southern end of the altar. Pieces of cracked stone had blown off and the buck lay at the edge, its blood smeared. I tried getting up, feeling incredibly sweaty. “Well, aren’t you a handsome lad…” He said, vibrating the figurine. I could see it clearly; a great man like an ox. It had great big arms for its size and horns like the animal. I stood away from the altar for a bit before it boomed, “Come closer, weakling! I only wish to give thanks!” I couldn’t help but inch closer in fear as the brazier blew a bigger flame. “Who are you?” He asked. “I am called Maker. I make things from wood and can make plants grow strong.” I whispered, coughing from the heat my lungs felt. I can’t explain why, but my body felt as if I was soaking in sweat quickly. “What an interesting name. Maker. You’re an interesting boy, too. Heheh… Do you know who I am?” He said, seeming to whisper to me again. “No. Who are you?” “I am Bahketh, Prince of Fire and Strength…” He whispered. I felt his voice in my right ear, as if his mouth was there, whispering to me closely. I was so nervous and sweaty. “O-oh…” I stuttered. “And I would like to thank you for helping me. I will grant you…” He trailed off. As he did, I saw the blood on the altar disappear, leaving the stone clean. “I will grant you one wish.” He said. I stepped back. I looked around to see if my eyes would find him. “What do you mean? Where did you come from? I don’t want anything, you can have the deer, just please leave me alone.” “My dear lad, it’s only fair for me to repay you. Your tongue is too crude, but some have called me a djinn. We’re masters at granting wishes, you know. We’re even better at it when we’re given a gift… All I wanted was the blood. Now take my humble thanks or I will get angry.” He said, fire changing scarlet red. “W-well, I’ve never wanted anything. I don’t need anything. It is the way of my people. We only take what we need.” I stuttered. “Foolish boy, all men have wants. I have many powers… I can grant almost anything… Is there nothing you want? Do you want to be strong? I can make you the strongest man alive…” He said. I could feel my arms tighten as his magic fire filled my chest. “Or is there something else? Do you want the power over fire? I can make you bring down great storms of flame upon your enemies! I can make you wake the salamanders that slumber under the mountains, boy!” He said, his brazier lighting up bright yellow. It released sparkles that shaped into snakes of smoke. “No? Do you… covet someone? I’m especially good at that, boy… Is there a girl you desperately desire? A boy? You can tell me…” He said, making me feel awfully warm all over… “No, I don’t need anything. I have plenty of food, and a good home, and my health,” I said before stopping my breath. “What about my health? Could you do something for that?” “And so much more, my boy. You look awfully healthy to me!” Bahketh laughed. The bastard knew I was a fool. “No, I mean… Could you help the health of my papa?” I asked him. “Oh yes, boy. I can make him very healthy…” __________________________________________________________________________________________ Bahketh taught me to draw his name. I didn’t know how to write, but I certainly knew that words weren’t made that way. Even so, he made me repeat it again and again, in the mud of the cave on the walls. He told me to take a small cup left behind by his ‘stupid caretakers’ from before. It had a small lid and he stuffed it with ashes from his brazier. He told me to light them after my father went to bed. The flame bastard told me that although it’d sound painful to my papa, but it was him burning away the illness. I believed him. I hurried out as I recalled that I’d been in the cave for a while. I carried the buck on my back, feeling stronger than ever. Pa came running out of the bushes as he saw the buck in my arms. “Amazing, boy! I am sorry for not having so much faith in you, bucks are hard enough to catch in the dark on their own. You are definitely a man now!” Pa laughed, examining the buck closely. I felt proud as he patted my back. He coughed and we decided to head down into the Valley after cleaning the deer. Papa refused medicine again and went to sleep early that night. I light the fireplace so the house would be warm. I wasn’t as skilled with stone as much as wood, but the Stone Worker had taken a large fur as payment a while before. Father slept on the upper level of the house. He slept like a corpse. I began drawing Bahketh’s name with some of the coal he’d given me. It was soft and left stain all over the parchment I had at home. My hands trembled as I lit the small container’s ashes with some of the fireplace’s flame. I whispered again and again for Bahketh to come. And he did. Like smoke in the night, his shadow crept through the cracks of our home. The shadow quickly found home in the fireplace. He seemed more shaped this time, almost a man out of fire, flickering out of the shapes the large flame held. The dying winter felt like nothing with his presence around. I didn’t understand the whispers Bahketh made in the shadows of the house. Before I knew it, I found myself covered in sweat again. I saw Papa get up and walk towards the fire. At first I was afraid he didn’t know what was going on, but he seemed asleep. His feet moved clumsily as he reached the fire. Bahketh’s name began to burn into the parchment- red embers popped out in bits as I made a small slit in my finger with a knife. I let the blood drip onto the parchment only a bit to see it wrinkle up in flame. Bahketh laughed and covered my father in a blue fire. My eyes switched around, trying to see everything that was happening as Bahketh ‘cleansed’ my papa. The fire of the hearth blew out and ate at the walls. I tried to scream but found no breath in my lungs, just smoldering ash. I couldn’t breathe and fell to my side. I sought the strength to pull myself up as Papa screamed out words I knew he never learned from our people. I wanted to move, but I was a coward then too. Papa moaned and then began to scream as the flame ate through his sleeping garb. He fell to his knees and twitched as the flame diminished. He seemed to move back and forth, screaming in agony. Bahketh’s tongue was no longer my own. It said a great many words I did not understand. I got up and decided this wasn’t the course of action I wanted to take- Papa was certainly in pain. I ran over to him but only remember Bahketh’s burning arms slam me away. I landed across the house, hitting my head on the door. I blacked out._____________________________________________________________________ That was that. I woke up lying on the ground. I saw nothing out of the ordinary in the house. No fire had taken our home, no parchment or old container. Everything seemed fine. I raised my hand up to see a simple scar on the left arm. I looked burnt there, but it didn’t hurt. I then noticed my arms looked extremely striated, as if I’d not eaten the fats of animals ever. I’d say it looked sickly, but the arms looked fairly healthy and my skin looked fine (aside from the black scar). “Papa? Are you here?” I asked, nervously. From where I was standing, the stairs blocked the view of our home’s second level. I heard a grumble and then some shifting of our beds’ fabric. “What? Oh. Lad, how long have I slept??” asked Papa, from where I could not see. I held my head. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would; I’d felt worse on mornings after drinking with Pa. “I don’t really know, Pa. I fell asleep down here.” I said, sheepishly. I heard his footsteps as he walked down. They sounded different. Finally Pa came down and I saw him, naked. “Pa! Your clothes!” I yelped. “Oh! I’m sorry, boy. I didn’t… I don’t remember taking them off!” He said, embarrassed. I noticed how much better he looked today. His skin wasn’t pale and he looked to have eaten much better. His thick facial hair had grown in quickly in sleep. The shadow it cast on his face had become a tuft of mess. His hands looked thicker and less callused than before as they quickly grabbed things to hide himself with. That’s when I saw Bahketh’s name on his back. Sometimes people scarred themselves with fire. These are tattoos. It seemed to be Bahketh’s name, tattooed on my father’s lower back, above his buttocks. I swallowed my tongue as I saw that it seemed perfected and even more complex than what Bahketh had shown me. In all honesty, it looked beautiful, but I couldn’t help but be afraid once more of Bahketh’s presence in our home. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary though, and things went on much the same. “Well, I will tell you what, I feel amazing! I told you I didn’t need some Wise Woman’s medicine!” Pa said, lifting his arms in a stretch. They looked full of energy- powerful. “Just fine on my own.” We got dressed and did our duties for the day. It turned out little sun was left and we didn’t get much done, but we still had deer to eat for a while anyway. I made broth as Papa finished up around the house. He seemed unable to sit down, even when we’d worked hard all afternoon. “Pa, are you going to eat?” I said, tasting the deer broth. It tasted wonderful. My eyes watched the fire carefully, ready to put it out if necessary. “Aye, but gimme a bit! I’m just trying to,” He huffed, lifting and rearranging things in the house, “move some things around!” I looked over and saw Pa sweating a river. He had moved almost everything in the house so quickly- alone. He looked over and showed me his usual big, funny grin. “Now that you mention it, though, I’m really hungry. And thirsty! I suppose you already caught on though, as you made both food and drink!” He said, running over to the fireplace as I began to make our servings. Pa quickly ate his helping and went for three more. I got two helpings in (what I usually eat, anyway) before we ran out. He laughed and said he could’ve eaten more; I was astounded. Even he could usually only eat about three servings of broth, especially when I stuffed it with things from the forest. He held his distended belly and complimented my cooking. “Maybe we should learn to make bread, it sure fills you up better than broth.” Pa said. I liked the idea, considering I always wanted to learn to make things to eat aside from soups and cooked meats. “Well, if you keep eating like this. I think so, Pa.” I said, smiling back._________________________________________________________________________ Things changed. I didn’t know what to do and even ignored what seemed subtly suspicious. I became afraid. At first, everything seemed great. I never went back into the forest and even told Pa we shouldn’t. He obliged. He told me he had a great idea about how we could train to hunt better, one he’d gotten in a dream. I gave little mind to it and made the tools he asked for. We cut up tree logs in a way that we could hold stumps with our hands easily; handles. They weighed different amounts. I couldn’t lift as much as my Pa, but I still tried to do it with him. Then we began to eat much more. At first we were fine, hunting the usual amount. We seemed to keep up with our need for food by hunting almost twice, if not three times as more food as before. We didn’t need all the furs so we traded for even more tools and different resources. Pa ate a lot more but he pushed me to eat as much as possible. Sometimes he’d even get angry when I didn’t eat ‘enough’. I always wanted to make Pa proud, so I usually ate as much as he made me. My eighteenth year came. He said it was exactly on the full moon. Almost a year had passed by since the incident with Bahketh. I ignored most of the signs that his influence lingered. As long as Pa was healthy, I didn’t really care. One day, however, I asked Pa something he didn’t like at all. “Pa, doesn’t everyone from our clan marry young? I’m eighteen, and you have never told me to seek a woman.” I said. Pa looked over and quickly became serious as he responded flatly, “You don’t need anyone.” I was confused. I looked at him. He’d changed so much in the past year. His arms looked thicker than ever, the rivers of his veins popping out of his skin all over. I’d traded some clothing for Pa to wear but he seemed to only like the fur vests we would mend out of animals in the woods. They always seemed small around his barrel chest. Although he ate well, the only thing I could see on his body was lean. His abdomen seemed pulled in, tight like river stones collected neatly. I looked down at my own body. I’d changed too, but not nearly as much as he. My face scrunched up in confusion as to what Pa said. “Pa, are you sure? There’s no real way to keep our clan alive if I don’t marry, or if you don’t marry. You’re still young, I think you could. I wouldn’t get jealous of siblings, I’m a grown man anyway.” I said, trying to be positive. “You don’t need me, is that it?” Pa asked. “What? That’s now what I’m saying, Pa. Don’t you want to have more children?” I asked him. Pa lifted the handled stumps and huffed. He was drenched in sweat as usual. His hair had gotten very thick this spring, shiny with sweat. Often his skin would look red as he breathed in heavily to lift. “Pa?” I insisted. “What, Maker?! You don’t want me around, right?!” He yelled, throwing the stumps far. “Just do what you want! You’re obviously not my boy, you don’t need me anymore, that’s what you’re saying, yes?!” I was almost afraid. Not because I couldn’t defend myself, but because Pa had never been this angry. His great chest bounced up and down as he huffed. He seemed angry, but not just that. He seemed anguished. “Pa, you know I can’t do anything as good as you. You’re a better hunter. I’ll never find someone I can count on like you.” I said, almost shaking and not thinking about what I was saying. It was true, though. That was how I felt about my Pa. I remembered trying to figure out how old Pa was when the winter took our clan. He’d have been about sixteen when I went under his wing. My father was much older, I’d say. Pa always looked up to my real father- at least by the way he spoke of him. I figured it was an age difference. I tried to understand how lonely Pa must have been. “I’m sorry, Pa.” I said, wondering what he would do. I couldn’t see his face anymore as he’d went to pick up the weights. I almost trembled thinking he would become violent. He came back. I couldn’t see if it was sweat or tears covering his face, especially as he kept his head down. We didn’t talk much that night. Then I started to hear the noises at night. I’d made a few additions to the house now, so Pa and I could have some privacy. I started hearing noises coming from Pa’s room. I couldn’t tell what it was he was doing. I became afraid because I heard grunts and strange moans. Was Pa sick again?Pa started becoming really big. He made sure I ate as well, but his hunger for food was astonishing, if not amazing. He ate and ate until he practically fainted one night. I tried to help him up, but he just held me. There was a sadness in him that I did not know how to help. He also pushed me. I would feel very sore in the mornings after a night of freedom where we could lift for as long as we wanted. Not everything made sense of what he said about ‘lifting’, but he knew so much. Pa and I started a tradition of seeing our progress ‘growing’. I didn’t understand it, but it looked to be enjoyable to Pa. I thought it was fun too especially when I could show off my strength. Pa would show me how big he’d gotten in the week and then I’d do the same for him. We seemed to make great progress. I did something one night. I didn’t understand my body and felt pain in my groin. I thought of asking my Pa what to do even though it was very late in the night. The pain was keeping me awake. I went to his room and found nobody there. Quickly, I dressed myself and grabbed my bow. I’d become very fast since we’d started training ourselves for hunting. Even though I weight quite a bit more, I was sure I could find Pa quickly. I went by the river, close to the mouth. I became worried as the full moon shed its bright light upon the trees and mountain stone. My feet stepped quickly, noticing a smell that I somehow recognized as Pa’s. I’d learned to make soft –but durable- boots from fur and cloth and slipped into a shadow as I heard the rushing waters of the river grow. There Pa was. He kept complaining about the heat. It was now summer but the heat of the night was still nice and calm, so I didn’t understand. Pa splashed himself in the water and drank. He coughed as he drank. He was probably drinking so fast. He washed himself and relaxed, naked on the water’s edge. I’d never tried to pay attention to the body. Pa said it was a private affair for only a wife to see, once. I couldn’t help it as something in my chest pounded. Pa’s body seemed perfect. It seemed sculpted, massive, like stone. It seemed powerful, like the fires Bahketh had fed him. I felt the pain in my groin again. Pa stepped out and looked at small pool of water at the river’s side. I assume he was staring at his reflection. He lifted his arms and forced his muscle to push out, like a large rock pressed to escape his thin skin. He laughed and posed again, showing off his pectorals more than anything else. I guess by instinct I dropped my bow. My hands rubbed my own groin, as if I needed some release from there too. “So big.” Pa said. “I’m so fucking big.” I knew not what that word meant. I’d never heard it myself. Pa posed again and again. I saw something happen to his appendage. The leg appendage you call a phallus. It seemed to swell as he posed. I felt my heart race. “Look at how big you are. No normal man is this strong.” He moaned, rubbing his body. Every movement forced certain muscles awake. I know now what they are called. He grabbed the nubs men can’t use on his chest. I swallowed my breath, feeling aroused. Pa moaned loudly, his phallus bouncing. It looked like a large, red rod. His hands eventually moved around and grabbed onto his phallus. They wrapped around it like a large knife handle. His member was much larger than mine. I pulled mine out. I wanted to feel what Pa was feeling. His hands went up and down. I saw his big balls swinging around. I looked at mine and felt them. They felt tender, swollen. “I want more. I want to grow more!” Pa yelled, groaning as his hands moved up and down his rod. I copied, feeling a sensation I’d never felt before. I would say I had felt it before, but I’d never done such things to myself in those situations. I then could see something strange as my Pa turned sideways. He must’ve wanted to see his side but couldn’t see his wide back. Bahketh’s name shimmered in a way I assume was enough for someone to see from afar, but not without direct line of sight. Pa moaned as my chest’s beat pounded. I couldn’t take it anymore and spurt out seed. Almost right after, Pa moaned and pounded his rod. He exclaimed once more, “I want to be huge!” Pa didn’t take much longer and spurted seed too. He fell backward as his white liquid gushed out like a small torrent. It splattered everywhere. On the ground, his chest, his face even. I looked down and saw a large sum of seed on the ground as well. I didn’t have nearly enough to match Pa, but I thought there was so much, considering it was like a small puddle two feet away from me. I couldn’t stop from moaning as I felt pleasure in my body. My phallus didn’t feel painfully hard anymore and set down to rest. As I did this, Pa grabbed his bow. “Who goes there?” He said. I quickly recovered myself and went on my way. Pa was skilled, but he’d never track me. That night I got to the house and cleaned myself as best as I could. I was too tired to worry if I had done right, watching my own father do such things. Part III: BAHKETH Another year passed and the fall season came. Pa had gotten massive. He couldn’t walk normal as his legs seemed to get in each other’s way. I’d heard someone in the village say he was an ogre. Pa looked very rugged but maintained clean. I obtained a blade to shave with regularly and I did it for both of us. Pa asked me to shave his body too, even though it was very difficult. I followed suit because he once said muscles looked bigger that way. At least this way people wouldn’t say mean things like that. And Pa wouldn’t fight them… I didn’t seek a wife. I met a nice girl in the village once, but Pa quickly scared her away. I wasn’t very interested, but I was determined to keep our clan’s bloodline alive. One night Pa’s bed broke. It was one of the first pieces of furniture I made. He only laughed and said we should just share a bed. I disagreed as we both were far too big for a single bed. If one of us didn’t fall off, it’d surely meet the same doom his bed had met. I’d gotten very skilled using tools and made a better bed for Pa. I found mine broken (with obvious assumption as to how when Pa told me he might have taken a nap on it) but made no argument. It was just proof that I was a skilled craftsman if the bed didn’t break, right? I didn’t get much bigger since the year before, but Pa said I did great. I smiled often when he measured my growth. I was starting to wish to be as big as him. He would sometimes show off in the village. He picked up men in each arm and would curl them like he did our weights (Which, by the way, I had to replace with bigger ones…) and would pull great animal-sized carts with ease. Things took a turn for the worst at night. I started planting more things and did very well. I grew lots of cucumbers and started harvesting. I found one missing and eventually learned what Pa had done with it. On his usual ‘cooling’ nights when he’d get his terrible fevers, he played with the cucumber. He would push it inside of himself, moaning and making many noises that bothered me. I found myself spilling my seed as my needs asked for something I shouldn’t have wanted. I started wondering if that was what Pa wanted, and started experimenting myself. I went down to the village one day and made friends. They seemed to make fun of me for not understanding sex as well as them, but I think they feared me. I was very strong and known as Hunter Son. Maker Hunterson. They didn’t laugh at me in front of me. One of them brought a harlot along and had her spend time with me. I learned that I didn’t like what she had to offer. Pa became more verbal that fall. “Do you like my size, boy?” He said, very seriously once. “Yes, Pa. You know I do.” I said, laughing. We sat on the ground, cleaning beans. “I don’t think I can get any bigger. I want to be bigger. I want to always take care of you, lad.” He said, tossing my hair in his hand, as if I was a boy still. I felt like a boy, always smaller than him. “I doubt I will, though. I can only get older from here on.” I pondered a while on what he said. I found myself later walking through the cursed woods, holding my bow ready. I was stronger now, and I knew I didn’t have to be afraid. The Wise Woman taught me how to make holy items. I wasn’t good at it, unusually, but she said that the items would drive away evil spirits no matter what. I never told her what I was doing anything for, but I’m sure she knew something was going on long before I had. I stepped through the thick brush- thicker than I remembered. Pa would go hunting by himself. Said he wanted to find himself a bear. I felt sorry for the bear. I pushed back the thick green and saw the cave again. It’d been two years, maybe more. I stood in front of the cave. It had changed since I was there last. It looked cleaner, as if it were more of a temple. I slowly walked in and looked around. There was much lighter than before. The heat was heavier too, I could feel my chest breathe in humid air. The altar was much more well-kept now than ever in my memory. The statuette sat there, waiting for me. “Well, well, well…” huffed the spirit. “Hello, Bahketh. I greet you with respect.” I said. I wasn’t nervous. “I hope you do, but I really hope you greet me with more…” He whispered, rubbing my body with his unseen warmth. “I seek nothing, Bahketh. At least nothing for myself.” I said, pulling out a small bag. “What is that, young man? My, you’ve gotten so much bigger on your own, without my help. Well, direct help. Do you like that power?” He fizzled. I opened the bag and let out the contents. I had obtained a box of incense. It was very rare, I’d received it as a gift for helping the counsel of the village stop a pack of bandits with my father, from a prominent family’s daughter. Jewels dropped out, all from different mountains from afar. “There is something I want,” I managed to say before Bahketh interrupted. “I know what you want. Your father is a very strong man. But he wants more, yes?” Bahketh asked. “Yes, oh great one.” “Maker? Boy?” I heard from outside the cave. I turned around. Pa was there. He looked over at the altar and back at me. “What’s going on here?” He asked. “Where are we? I followed you because I was worried. Should I be worried?” “Pa! How did you follow me?” I asked, nervously. “I followed your smell –I mean- tracks.” He said. “Come, my acolyte.” Bahketh whispered. Pa walked slowly, without hesitation. “Your boy wants to make you bigger. Stronger. You want that, yes?” Bahketh asked. Pa stared at the statue before processing all the information. “Yes! That’s what I want! Wait- is this- is this how I’ve gotten so strong?! I’ve never felt this way in my entire life! It’s amazing! I feel so powerful!” Pa said. Bahketh laughed. “Your boy is no normal man. He is a Maker, just as his name states. He has the power to focus magic. You should thank him as much as you should thank me.” Pa looked over at me. I noticed the erection he was growing. He was practically glowing. “Your boy and I are also alike in other forms. He is benevolent, like me. He wants to make you even stronger.” Bahketh whispered. “Is that true, son? You can make me stronger? I want to be stronger, boy! I want to be the strongest!” Pa said, grabbing my arm. He then pulled me in and embraced me. I’d never felt the way he made me feel when he embraced me. “Well- Bahketh granted the wish. What do you want, oh Great Spirit?” I said, nervously. “I want your Pa to give me his name. But he can’t do it by himself, you need to give it to me.” Bahketh said. “I don’t understand.” I said. “Why don’t you ask your father?” Bahketh said with a grimace. I could see his smile in the fire of the altar. Pa looked nervous. I looked over to him and asked, “What does he mean?” It took him some time before responding. He seemed to think about it a bit before Bahketh complained loudly. He made the room burning hot. Pa finally answered. “Our clan gives up our names to the person we love the most. It’s a tradition we hold in the spring. I did it a few years ago for you. It’s usually something for marriage… But I have nobody, lad. I always have only had you.” He said. “And that means that he doesn’t own his own name. You do. The binds of your clan’s tradition make it so he can’t do anything. I will grant you this wish, if you want me to, but you have to give me his name.” “I-I don’t think I should be doing that!” I yelled. I still understood very little. I looked back and forth at both of them, skin red hot with embarrassment. “Boy, please! I want to be the strongest!” Pa said. He held me close, almost crushing me. He posed his arms and smiled before embracing me again. I desperately remember his embrace. “But Pa, I don’t want to make this decision for you! Why don’t you just take back your name?” I said, trying to pull out of his grasp. I didn’t want to, really. “I can’t do that, boy…” Pa said. He looked sad at me. I knew what he meant. He didn’t have to say it. “And that’s all, right? You’ll make him the strongest as long as you have his name?” I asked the flame spirit. “He’ll be as big and strong as he wants. All I need is his name.” Bahketh said. “Just say ‘I give thy true name away, Hunter, to the great spirit BAHKETH.” I breathed in heavily and held it in. “I give thy true name away, Hunter, to the great spirit BAHKETH.” I smiled at Pa and held his hand. I’d never held his hand, at least not to my memory as boy or man. I laid mine inside his one last time. Pa smiled back at me, with his big smile. “YES! FINALLY!” Bahketh screamed. The statuette fell to the side and cracked. Out came the flame and grabbed onto my papa’s face. A shockwave sent me flying. Bahketh’s cackle filled echoed on and on. The flamed disappeared as it went into my pa’s mouth. “Pa?” I grumbled, rubbing my neck. “I don’t feel much different,” Pa said, looking back at me. He then screamed and held his stomach. “Oh… Oh! It burns! Gah! It burns!” Pa screamed. He trembled as his skin went red hot. He fell to his knees as he screamed again. His hands grabbed his head as he howled. Pa’s forehead quickly pushed out two small horns, little points that poked under his long hair. The mark on his back began to spread its ink, like a black flower. It covered his chest and upper legs, like vines around to his neck. Pa then began to moan. He seemed to stay alive and well even if the flames came alive on him. At first I saw his arms shake. His shoulders widened and found more space close to Pa’s neck. He growled as his arms weighed heavy with swelling muscle- it looked like a pumpkin was stuffed under his skin on both sides. His hands, however big they were, seemed very small as his arms trembled. I tried to come closer and even shot an arrow at the altar in hopes of distracting (and maybe stopping) Bahketh. The arrow evaporated in flame quickly before reaching the altar and I felt the singe of the fires myself a few steps in. I could not get close as my pa’s arms moved up from the pushing of his enlarging back. He looked like an hourglass as the sides of his midsection popped out like small wings. “Bigger! I want to be bigger! It feels so good!” I pulled out my crude amulets in hopes to use them against the foul spirit. Bahketh cackled the moment I pulled them out. They crumbled in my hands. My eyes let out tears as I saw father’s stance widen. His legs had become thicker than many young trees of the forest. They looked denser too. His abdomen cracked as the bricks on his abdomen pushed outward. I started feeling the warmth in my groin again, in shame. Pa’s close tore as his chest exploded outward along with his legs. “So good! So fucking strong!” Pa said, flexing his body as he grew. His rod pushed out from the burning clothes, swelling up in a size I could never imagine fitting a normal human. It looked thicker than my forearm. Somehow it lifted upward even with the massive weights that were under it, both sized like many fruits from the garden. It simply bobbed up and down and trickled seed onto the ground. Pa thoroughly enjoyed what was happening, even though his head seemed to be being swallowed by his massive body. Bahketh laughed and let the fires die down as my father started fondling himself. Pa’s chest had stretched out his nipples like coins, yet grown them outward to large nubs that he moaned when played with. I breathed heavily as I tried to remain capable of clear thought. Bahketh whispered terrible things in my ears, caressing my body in a softer heat. He tempted me. Pa stroked himself as his height increased to accommodate his growth. I’d say he was about eight feet tall at the end of the ordeal, but I couldn’t keep track of such things. He moaned and yelled out in a thick, deep voice. It was deeper than before, like the growl of a beast in the woods. My pa could no longer contain himself and spewed outward, shooting far into the air and away from where he stood. It came like a river of white, splashing and somehow not evaporating from the embers that had dwindled with the ending growth. I felt myself wet inside my gear, but not from fear and piss, but longing. I longed for my pa’s massive body to touch me. “Foolish boy! Do you know who I am?!” Bahketh finally exclaimed. His voice seemed to cover my pa’s. Pa’s eyes themselves had gone white. “I am BAHKETH! Efreeti of Lust, Fire, and Strength! Genie of Smolder and Ecstasy! The pinnacle of all flames! None are stronger than I! I fell from grace, but now I will return to the material world I was once barred from, so full of delicious pleasures! All thanks to you, my boy! Or should I say, my son?” I felt my heart sink deeper than I will ever remember. I understood what Bahketh had done. The statuette lifted into the air and cracked, letting out a small tear in time-and-space open. Now I know what had happened. I saw Bahketh’s truest form. It barely peered into our world as he commanded Pa to walk over to me. I stood there, afraid and aroused. Pa walked up to me. He was not Pa anymore, but not Bahketh. He grabbed me and squeezed me in his palms. I thought he would kill me but he simply tore off my clothes. The possessed man pushed me onto his skin, letting me feel the mass. I felt Pa’s massive chest, rock solid and burning hot. He forced my mouth open to taste Pa’s stone-like abdomen. I felt a shameful delight as my phallus hardened in its own rock-like density. The possessed Pa licked my own body, tasting different parts and biting where he saw fit. My neck, my buttocks, my sides. He bit hard enough to hurt, but not enough to pierce through. I closed my eyes in hopes of living, in hopes of forgiveness should my pa come to his senses. “Tell me you like my mass, boy.” Pa said, deep and slow. “N-no, Pa… Please… Stop this… We can get away…” “Feel these arms. Feel how strong and powerful they are.” I couldn’t hold on and finally whispered, “…It’s amazing, Pa.” "Do you want to be crushed between these great legs?" He said, forcing my hands onto them. I felt their density on my fingers. My chest couldn't contain the energy I received from the arousal. "You're gigantic, Pa..." I said, moving my hands around on the striations. Pa’s mouth landed on mine. I couldn’t stop myself and tasted the inside. It was somehow sweet, like fresh fruit cooked in a warm fire, yet different. His tongue played around with mine, long enough to touch the insides of my throat. I thought I’d choke but I only moaned. Pa held me in the air with ease as he did this, finally letting me feel his massive rod touch me. His tongue licked mine. I whimpered at the amazing sensation. He fit mine in his mouth and suckled as he lifted my legs over his shoulders. I moaned and felt the ecstasy wisp me away. Pa pulled me out of his mouth and then licked elsewhere. I feel great shame for he licked me in an awful place. It felt so pleasurable, it bothers me today. His tongue pierced through and played around inside me. I finally understood why Pa liked to do this to himself. Pa finally pulled me down to his own throbbing member and pushed my mouth on it. It was literally too big to fit inside, but he was gentle. He simply growled, “Lick it, boy. Satisfy your papa.” And I followed suit. He moaned quickly and played with my body as well as his own. He pushed his hands over mine so I could feel his massive legs while I licked. I was lost. I had no congruent thought. “I curse you, Maker Hunterson. I curse you to lust as badly as your father did, every night thinking of giving your own name to me…” Bahketh whispered under my pa’s voice. I looked up and saw the black tear that dripped from Pa’s eye. He smiled still as the tear dripped away and evaporated on the burning ground. Pa came again. He drenched me in seed, cooked like milk in the winter morning. I opened my mouth and swallowed what I could. It tasted like honey. I moaned and came as well, whimpering as the sensation squeezed my groin tighter than ever. It hurt as it tightened out every last drop inside me. I heard the voice in the window cackle. A colossal arm -both muscular and bigger than even Pa’s- smashed through. The voice growled loudly in its own beastly form as another arm stretched the doorway out. I could see Bahketh’s smoldering orange eyes. His name burned on my arm, unfinished but obviously his. I screamed in pain as it burned to the bone. Bahketh laughed and petted my papa. “My acolyte. You shall walk the earth, spreading my name in the shadows. When the time has come I shall become a glorious god as I so deserve.” Bahketh said, voice booming. It was certainly not a whisper anymore. Pa turned as the seed forced me to change slowly. I fell to the ground as my body became led. Pa walked towards the door and bowed. “Yes, master.” He said. “But now, you shall enjoy true paradise. Come to me, my acolyte. Enter the plane of Lust, where my flaming abode hides. Our enemies have been winning for so long, and we must plan… We must rejoice your coming home. I shall soon take even the planes of the Abyss and Heaven as my own.” The portal stretched even more so. Bahketh’s face smiled with teeth like a monster’s. His red skin burned with embers and eldritch-orange symbols. He caressed my pa as he walked into the burning doorway. I could only whisper my Pa’s name before I began sensing the loss of it in my existence. I felt my bones push and break as my body grew when Pa looked back at me once more. I still think the pain was worse in my heart than it was in my body. I would have screamed as the door closed, leaving the cave steaming and alone. I lay, growing slowly and painfully. I could feel everything; the bones cracking, the muscle tearing. All of it, before the growth rebuilt me. It felt pleasurable underneath the pain. To this day I want more, in secret shame. I felt my arms swell and my neck become thick. My legs felt like pillars in a temple, heavy as well. My eyes opened as I saw the thunder rolled in the night sky. I got up very slowly, trying to move with the new size. I looked at my body, remembering what my Pa’s looked like. I would certainly be a weaker scout now, but that was fine. I needed to become a warrior. I needed to find a way to defeat the foul genie, Bahketh. I stumbled around, learning how to use the self-obtrusive legs I had just obtained. My groin felt heavy already with seed as I looked down at a massive member that swung from side to side. I didn’t get far before having to release. I met the Wise Woman in the dark. She said my voice had become even deeper. The rain helped conceal me. I begged her for advice. The Wise Woman told me this was certainly beyond her power. I cried in agony. She gave me a pendant that had been passed down to her. It carried the symbol of an ancient people. She said that the mountains hid a strange prison whose lock was now broken beyond repair. I asked for her forgiveness. The Wise Woman said nothing. I learned later I had been fated to release the burning djinn long before. Her people had dwindled (ironically like mine) and hid amongst the village. They were prepared to end their bloodline. I prepared to end mine. The pendant was to help me find someone who could battle the bastard, but that was the only help the Wise Woman gave me. I returned to the house and packed what I could. I packed extra to head to the village and trade. Nobody recognized me in the darkness of the rain and night. I quickly obtained a sword and things a traveler could use. I gave up my tools. I was no longer a maker. I was no longer anyone. I write in this journal, hoping that if I should fail, someone finds it. I can feel Bahketh’s whispers at night. I can feel his hands toying with me. I know the knowledge to give him my being is hidden in the dark depths of my mind. Every day is a struggle. I want that power and strength. I beg the spirits of the land –the only few benevolent left- that they guide me to death before my mind finds destruction. But who knows, deep down, I want Bahketh to grow me as much as he can. End? Author End Note: I thank you very much for reading my work. Please suggest themes that you think would be interesting, or tell me what you thought could use work through a comment! I sincerely hope you liked it.

Tales of a Lust Mage #2 By ROBOPROBO SUB TAGS: Magic, Basic Growth, Height, Combat, Characters (Bradley, Xaekus, Rafael, Alice), The following work of fiction portrays fictional characters in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. Author note: I feel there is much more plot in this installment than there was in the last. I do apologize if this feels like fluff. I DO split up the stories in parts, so if you feel you don't need too much plot, head over to Part 2, about halfway through the story. The sexy things start happening there. I un-officially will be using 'sub' tags so you know what will be involved in each story. TALE II Part 1 – Mortals and the Gazes of a Magician Rafael was a pretty boring, average eighteen year-old. As he mopped the floors of the shop he worked at, he pondered what he'd be doing for another year in this town. He was excited to go to his dream university but -due to his father's illness- he'd deferred his attending date for another year. He'd come to terms with how things were going, and figured at least it'd be another year before he reached full solitude. Rafael wiped the counters of the yogurt shop’s registers. The tiny little shop was called ‘Leche Lucy’ and was owned by an old family friend (Lucy). She had known Rafael since childhood and was considered a ‘godmother’- she gave him a job for the next few months while he took care of his dad. For now Rafael took a few classes at the local community college and worked part time here. Things were pretty calm in his life so far, if not somber. Recently Rafael began working out a lot more. He had enough time to do so and liked the ability to excel in a physical activity. In school he wasn’t very coordinated and he never made the teams for any sports. He’d tried out for wrestling, soccer, football, tennis; all in vain. He’d been a late bloomer and he happened to be a year younger than all his classmates, giving him a very large disadvantage in the physical department. Now that he was a year and some months out of school he felt capable of at least weight lifting appropriately, and hopefully athletically in the future. Because Rafael often worked alone in the store, he found himself wandering mentally about everything. School, work, and so far- fitness. He’d started dieting these last few weeks and certainly noticed some good changes. Changing your lifestyle so drastically always made you think about it constantly, but he was finally getting used to it for the most part. Rafael wished it hadn’t poured today- business had gotten really bad in the last few hours. It made him anxious enough to clean the shop twice. Now he had nothing to do. He stood inside the kitchen and decided to rearrange some things. The young man could even practice his squats a little as he picked up large tubs of flavoring and yogurt ingredients. He liked to feel his muscles ask for more oxygen, even if it were more warm-up than work-out. A few minutes went by of him moving boxes and tubs of different things before he heard the bells on the door signal the entry of a customer. Rafael almost groaned as he had just started to pick up a sweat (he’d started counting how quickly he could move a certain amount of things at a time, sort of like reps). “At least some people are not so afraid of the rain,” Rafael whispered to himself. The shopping was not one large building but rather many shops linked to roads. The mall was indeed big but fell prey to the weather’s mercy. Rafael swallowed his breath before he could finish his thought. His eyes were looking downward, so he’d gotten fairly close before experiencing the sight visually. There stood a tall, wet guy in the shop. Rafael tried to not let the intimidation shake him as it often did when there were attractive people in his vicinity (men or women). This guy though- this guy was on a different plane. The guy wore what seemed to be a blue pair of slacks, but really expensive looking ones- perfectly shaped to his fairly muscular frame. Rafael’s eyes had already gotten to curious by instinct before he could look away. They noticed this guy had no jacket on, simply a white shirt and red tie. Rafael had immediately begun holding his breath as he knew that this man had been drenched. This meant his physique was certainly seeable through said white shirt. Often, Rafael felt jealous when people like this man were around. They were perfect –and even if they worked for it- he always felt inadequate around them. He tried not to look and finally noticed his breath was still on hold. He almost gasped as he remembered to breathe. Time seemed to go far too slow as everything felt awkward. “Can I help you?” Rafael said in an octave higher than his usual voice. The man wasn’t looking at Rafael and turned his head away from the outside windows to greet him. “Oh. I was caught in the rain. My umbrella broke.” Said the wet man flatly. “That sucks. What were you looking for, exactly?” Rafael tried to say. Rafael could feel the guy seek eye contact, almost menacingly, like an animal that could roar anything into submission. Rafael couldn’t help but be pulled in to the man’s gaze as he learned his name. “I’m Bradley. I’m new in town and I figured I could just check out the shops. Weather came down and greeted me with open arms.” As he said this, Rafael couldn’t help but swallow his tongue. Bradley was fairly tall and carried a wide pair of shoulders. His black hair had gotten wet and curled over his forehead. Rafael could not prevent the man’s brown eyes snare. His brow was intense- like an action hero, shooting his eyes at Rafael forever. That’s what it felt like, but looking back Rafael knew it must have been an awkward minute. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Bradley said. Rafael returned to Earth and coughed, “Yeah, yeah it’s over there on the wall, I mean, by the wall! I mean.” Bradley laughed and looked at the puddle that was under him. He didn’t seem to mind that his chiseled abs and pectorals clung to his wet white shirt. He simply looked back up to Rafael and said, “I’m so sorry about the mess, should I run to the bathroom?” You could get shirtless, it would keep the dripping at bay and you’re basically shirtless anyway, thought Rafael. Bradley immediately began unbuttoning his shirt. Rafael almost jumped back at the feeling that his mind was being read. “Something wrong?” asked Bradley, pulling off the soaked shirt. His skin’s muscular ridges glistened with droplets of water. “What? No-“ “I just thought it’d make more sense to not drip all over the place,” Bradley said, placing the shirt on the ground. “You’re not uncomfortable, are you? We’re just guys.” “No, of course not, I don’t care!” Rafael almost yelled from anxiety. “I’ll go get you some towels or something!” He said, stumbling about. Who was this guy?! Was he a model? What was he doing in boring Tripole?! Bradley dried his hair with both hands, seemingly showing off his well-developed triceps and v-shaping lats. Rafael tried to not look. Luckily he was accustoming himself to speaking normally. Bradley looked at him and asked, “I didn’t catch your name.” Rafael observed his facial features as he said this. Bradley carried a prominent brow- it made his eyes intense, aside from his stiff demeanor. The young man –by Rafael’s guess, twenty-one, maybe twenty-five- carried well-groomed facial hair that matched his now waving brown locks. His skin was fair, almost pale but lively still. His face was longer than it was square, making his general visage look more slender than muscular at first glance. “I’m Rafael.” The shopkeeper responded. “Call me Brad.” Rafael almost smiled out of instinct as Bradley talked to him. Rafael was interested in this stylish, athletic person (as there seemed to be few and far between in Tripole). Rafael never really thought about sexual attraction as much as he pondered what was beautiful and what wasn’t. Bradley made him more afraid than sexually interested, if anything. Rafael didn’t think himself gay, either. “It’s a good thing I brought some clothes with me,” Bradley said, “I heard it might storm terribly today so I used my weather-proof backpack.” “Backpack?” Rafael asked, seeing Bradley open an orange pack. Bradley did not respond. Rafael could have sworn the guy walked in without anything on him, but whatever. There was no point in asking. “Mind if I change in your bathroom?” Bradley said. “No, it’s basically public to customers.” Rafael said. He quickly wanted to take back what he stated- knowing it sounded a bit rude. “Oh, I don’t even know what this shop is. I’ll get something, then. You sell yogurt?” Bradley asked. It either seemed that Bradley smiled sparingly or he was not very amused. “Y-yeah, ah, all these different machines have a different flavor. I can give you a sample of each, if you like. You seem pretty fit, are you interested in some fat-free pineapple yogurt? It’s my current favorite.” Rafael rambled. He gulped at the realization. “Yes. That sounds like a good idea. Are you interested in fitness?” Bradley said. It seemed Bradley blinked little. He was always observing, from what Rafael could tell. Observing from far away. Rafael grabbed a tiny sample cup and let Bradley taste. Bradley licked the top and looked at him. There was no reaction. “Did you like it?” Rafael asked. He was starting to get nervous again. “I’ll take four ounces.” “Right away, here, just take this cup and you can add things from the bar over here. Fruits, candy. Whatever you’re into.” Rafael said, with relief. “Oh, so I don’t really order. That’s a pretty clever idea. Do I pay by weight? Flavors?” “Weight. Sorry, I should probably explain everything.” “I think I can keep up.” Rafael kept worrying that Bradley was unamused or offended. He walked awkwardly around the bar to the register. “Add your toppings, and we’ll weigh it for your total price.” And so, Bradley got a small cup of yogurt. “May I go change now?” Bradley asked. “Sorry, I didn’t really mean you had to buy something or you couldn’t use the bathroom. That probably sounded kind of rude.” Bradley was tasting the yogurt. He actually closed his eyes for a long time- maybe to savor the yogurt and do nothing else. “Oh, this is really good. I’m glad I walked in here and not some fast-food trough.” Bradley said, moving his spoon around in the cup. He lifted the spoon and looked over at Rafael. “I am having a bad week, I thoroughly enjoy all these little shops usually, just haven’t had the chance to really-” He was saying, before dripping some yogurt onto his chest. He looked down. Pineapple yogurt dribbled down his dense pectoral. He looked up at Rafael- whom was staring. “Well, are you going to lick it off? Or do you want to wait for it to slide onto my nipple?” asked Bradley, indeed seriously. He was still shirtless. “What?!” yelled Rafael. His face flushed. “Hmm? I said, ‘is this a family owned business?’” Bradley repeated. He grabbed a napkin and cleaned off the spill. Rafael scratched his head. “Yeah, sorry, I misheard… Yes, well, technically. I call the owner my Grandma, but she isn’t, really. Her son and daughter take care of the store, but they just opened another down south at another mall, so they really don’t get here often. They hired someone else for the weekends, but that’s basically the only time there’s someone else besides me here. I came in early today because a lot of chores needed to be done. I even though of closing, but.” Rafael tried looking out the window. He felt uncomfortable. Was he interested in this Bradley character? “I’ll be right back, going to change.” Bradley said, grabbing his backpack and walking off to the bathroom. He came back out wearing a tight green tank top and blue shorts. He seemed ready for a work-out or a day at the beach. Somewhere somebody could enjoy his physique. The clothes seemed small for him; made his musculature look even bigger than the wet slacks and shirt. “So, do you work out, Rafael?” Bradley asked. “Yeah, I try to. Been trying to gain weight. Well, muscle.” Rafael tried to say, jokingly. His progress was still not too much to show off with. “Oh. You only work here? School?” Bradley said, slowly sitting in a big round chair. Clarisse, Gram Lucy’s daughter, had funded a new ‘look’ for the shop so it would resemble a modern café. There seemed to be a giant void around Bradley. Maybe it was just how Rafael felt. “I have two classes, both at different store hours. I don’t really need to miss work.” Rafael said. He had a habit of rubbing his fingers into his hands away from view when he was nervous. His hands were at his sides, behind the counter. “Oh. I see.” Bradley said, quietly. His eyes seemed to stare down Rafael, who was ironically standing up. “What else do you want to tell me, Rafael?” Bradley said slowly. Rafael opened his mouth before thinking and quickly spouted out everything that followed. “Well, my father is dying and I know it and it’s been causing so much turmoil in the house. My Gram is such a nice woman but I know she doesn’t know how to help more so than making my father and I feel like family. I’m not skilled enough to do anything and even though I got accepted to the university I’ve wanted to go to since forever I doubt I’ll become a good sociologist because people don’t even know what sociology is and I’m a hug nerd that somehow got to talk to one of the cool people. You’re one of the cool people- you’re some really buff cool dude from who-knows-where and you somehow ended up in the terribly normal Tripole, where no cool people ever stay and I find you extremely intimidating; so much so that I’m questioning my sexuality because I kind of want to be your friend just to see what exactly it is I’m feeling. I also feel so shallow because you’re pretty interesting as a person on your own, without being so cool and buff and attractive.” “So you don’t always get this nervous around attractive, muscular men?” Bradley said, letting his tongue reach out for the spoon slowly. “I don’t, what-” Rafael tried to cough up as his face went rose red. What just happened?! “You have bad hearing. I said, ‘Do you research a lot of fitness? Bodybuilding, and the like?” Rafael looked around the room; what was happening to him today? Did he have a lack of oxygen? Was he hallucinating? “Oh! Ah, sorry, I. I do, I’ve started trying to eat enough macro-nutrients to obtain my goals. Kind of hard, but slowly.” He said, trying to calm down. After some talk about lifting, Rafael said something awful. “Sometime maybe I can have a physique like yours.” He swallowed his tongue immediately after his brain registered how awkward he sounded, only to become surprised at his new acquaintance’s expression. Bradley’s lips pursed. They almost curled at the ends –upward- as if to hide a smile. Rafael almost smiled too, were it not for his unease. “You like this physique?” Bradley said, returning to his almost monotone voice. He flexed his arms by placing his hands behind his head, elbows pointing upward. His lats spread out like wings. They squeezed his well-defined pectorals- whom were peeking out of the tiny tank top. Rafael felt his chest squeeze as well, but from a loss of air. “W-well yeah! I mean, not to sound weird, but you have a great body. I know you probably worked really hard for it, so I won’t be rude, but I’m pretty jealous.” Rafael said, laughing. He felt like he could say anything right now. Bradley had told him about his old home in New York, work with a law firm, and school education. They were almost friends, right? “Well,” Bradley said, looking down at his expensive-looking ring. “I wouldn’t say I ‘worked’ hard for it. I don’t really deserve it, I just happened to be at the right place at the right time. I’m actually trying to slender down. I have a few persons to blame.” Xaekus sneezed as he filed paperwork into cabinets back at home. He was having a hard time not following his master around. He at least wanted to yell at Bradley for not faxing all paperwork properly (the printer jammed). “Oh, you mean, like your genetics? Lucky you.” Rafael said. Bradley almost smiled again. “Do you have a training partner?” he asked. He tossed the yogurt cup away. “No, I don’t really.” Rafael said before stopping his sentence. “You don’t really? You don’t really training partner?” Bradley asked. “I don’t really have any friends.” Rafael said, sheepishly. “Oh. Well, if you ever want to work out, I’m new here too so I need a good spotter. Would you be interested?” Bradley asked. “Yes!” Rafael said loudly. He swallowed his tongue as he tried to gain composure quickly after. “Here, this is my office number. I’ve got to get going since the rain has dwindled- need to pick up some groceries.” Bradley said. He put on his backpack and picked up the wet bag Rafael had given him. “Call that number to set up an appointment with my secretary. I’ll see you Thursday, that’s the next workout day for me.” Bradley said, walking out of the store. Rafael looked down at the business card- it looked so fancy. It was an ivory, thick paper with shining ‘gold’ leaf. It looked like it belonged in an old movie about business men and CEOs. The words were made up of small, intricate script. Apparently, Bradley owned his own ‘multi-level consulting service’, whatever that meant. Was Bradley a lawyer? Rafael stared at the card, wondering who exactly he had just talked to. ___________________________________ Thursday came and Rafael found himself inside the gym. It was early in the morning, before the yogurt shop was to open, and Rafael had nothing else to do. He was almost excited but feared how much he’d drag down Bradley- if he were to come at all. The voice on the phone sounded really annoyed to hear about having to set up an appointment, Rafael wanted to tell them it was okay not to. “No, you already called, we don’t want all my time to go to waste,” said the secretary on the line. Rafael thought his name might be ‘Xak’, by what Bradley had mentioned of his employees. “Ah, I really mean it, if it’s too much of a bother, I can tell Bradley,” “Excuse me, I think you mean ‘Mr. Rourke’. If you have no professional business with him, I would suggest you use his professional name, at least. Thank you. I’ve set up the appointment for 9 A.M. sharp. Do not be late.” The voice on the other side said quickly before hanging up. And so, Rafael found himself inside the gym. It was raining hard again so he’d gone inside. Someone asked if he needed help with anything and he told them he was waiting on a friend. Rafael began to fret as the clock struck nine. He looked to the door to see Bradley walking in with a large black umbrella folding in his hands. Bradley wore a black suit today to match. His silver sunglasses made him look distant as he put the umbrella away in his leather gym bag. Rafael looked down at his baggy sweatpants and grey shirt with a frown. “He’s with me,” Bradley said, handing the attendant his badge. She blushed. He was so commanding, somehow without a direct word. “Do you need workout clothes? I brought an extra set, in case.” Bradley said, walking to through the locker room. “Well, I think what I’m wearing works?” Rafael asked. “Nonsense, you can’t see any of your physique in that. You need the motivation of seeing your body pumping new growth, or you’ll get slow results.” Bradley said, unbuttoning his shirt and placing it on a hanger with its jacket. Rafael tried to look away. He looked at the clothing Bradley had set down. A cerulean V-neck and black shorts were folded neatly. Rafael picked them up and saw tags still on them. New clothes? Rafael thought. They looked expensive, too. Brands he’d never heard of. “Relax, I didn’t buy those for you,” chuckled Bradley. He seemed to know what Rafael was thinking. He chuckled. “Ah, but they’re about my size.” Said Rafael. “Because I got those in the past- I forgot about them, but they were for my size.” Brad said. “Oh.” Answered Rafael. Bradley was once a normal size. Today was predominantly leg day. Bradley spotted Rafael. Rafael knew that workouts were sacred, so he tried pushing aside his anxiety to later. It was difficult, as Bradley tended to spot real close. Sometimes Bradley’s chest would touch Rafael, or Rafael could feel the static between their clothes. An exaggeration, but Rafael felt that way. Brad’s form was almost perfect. He swayed a bit when the weight racked. Rafael tried to help as much as possible. Bradley didn’t focus much in weight but seemed to push out tons of reps. Rafael found himself trying to keep up and sometimes bumping into Bradley. The quiet athlete said nothing. Rafael couldn’t help but wonder what it’d feel to touch Brad’s big, meaty legs. They stretched the fabric of his shorts with every squat. Brad looked like he pumped up quickly, his quads seeming to push his shorts out every exercise or so. Rafael thought maybe all bodybuilders (or whatever Bradley considered himself as) got this way when lifting. And so, Rafael worked hard. At the end he found himself exhausted and drenched in sweat. He huffed, upset that Bradley had mostly just-started breathing heavily most of the time. “Sorry if I drag down your workout, Bradley.” Rafael said, as they were changing. The gym was small and had no showers. “This town needs more gyms.” Brad said, showing off his chiseled abdomen. He put on a loose sweater. He looked tired too. “Also, just call me Brad.” He added. “Oh. Okay.” Rafael answered. Bradley and Rafael went to the lobby. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around, or whatever?” asked Rafael. “If you like, you can work out with me anytime. I’m not trying to gain mass, so we can go ahead and workout light until you’ve reached my ‘level’ of expertise. Just call Xak again, he’ll take care of you.” Bradley said, putting on his watch and rings. “Oh, that guy… Sure.” Rafael tried to laugh. “What, was he trouble?” Bradley asked. “Oh no! Sorry no, he seemed pretty cool.” Rafael eased. “Hmm. Is that so?” Bradley said, “Well, I’ll see you, training partner.” He raised his hand out for a handshake. Rafael smiled and clasped the hand. “Ouch!” Rafael yelped. He pulled his hand to see a small red dot on his hand. “Oh. Sorry, I forget this ring has a jag. I should toss this thing, but it was a gift.” Brad said, “Do you want to get a band aid or something?” “No, I’m fine, it’s not that bad. I’ll just wait until it clots on its own.” Rafael said. “Thanks so much for the workout!” He managed to add, happily leaving the gym. Bradley waved good bye and smiled, almost forcibly. His sunglasses seemed useless at night, but he sure looked good in them, Rafael thought, stealing a glance once more. Bradley waited a bit to observe his ring. There was definitely a drop of blood on it, preparing to dry. He needed to be quick. He almost grimaced at the ease his plan had worked with. Part 2 – Dream Walking Rafael prepared to shower. He couldn’t get Bradley out of his mind. Was Rafael gay? He’d never felt any attraction to anyone. He knew so little about Bradley, but there was an essence to him. A feeling around him. Rafael felt comfortable and somehow scared in his presence. He looked in the mirror and frowned- there was nothing like Bradley’s in the reflection. No well-groomed hair, no defined and masculine beard, no intense brown eyes and long, handsome face. Rafael felt his chest sink; it was hard being average. He didn’t consider himself even that. Rafael went into the shower and lathered, rinsed. The norm. His mind wandered around. Work, Dad, Bradley. No! Work, Dad, school. Rafael folded down a bit, trying to get his mind off of Brad. He lathered downward and couldn’t help wondering what it’d be like to maybe hold Bradley’s bicep. It was so toned, like a baseball. Crap. Rafael had an erection. Maybe he’d deal with it, but he certainly wasn’t going to think about Bradley. “What are you doing, master?” Xaekus said, trying to push the bottle around. When Brad got home, it was to the bottle for Xak. “Nothing!” Brad yelled out. He couldn’t find the jar of lavender incense. “Master, who was that young man that called?” Xaekus asked, slowly pushing the bottle. He couldn’t see what his master was doing in the other room. “Just a friend. Is that you moving your bottle, should I come in there?” Bradley said, lighting the large brazier. It spout fire upward. “No, Master, I’m not doing anything. Just like you.” Xaekus growled. He saw a pile of papers on one of the tables in the room. I just cleaned up those files, Xaekus thought, angrily. There were a few specks of mud on the floor Brad had tracked in. Xaekus growled. “You don’t have friends,” bit Xaekus. Bradley found the lavender. He’d make Xaekus arrange all the incenses alphabetically tomorrow, this was stupid. He heard Xak’s remark and grabbed the shade’s sage too. “I close this room by the power of my god spark.” He said, tossing a handful of shade’s sage into the brazier. It gushed out black smoke and began circling the room. Xaekus groaned- now he would certainly not see anything. “Go clean the house, Xaekus, by my will and order.” Bradley said. “But master, you haven’t fed me!” Xaekus whined. He didn’t say more, knowing he’d receive no answer. He went onto his business. _________________________________ Bradley grabbed a handful of lavender and tossed it in. He pulled out a red pendulum- amethyst, his favorite for this work- and chanted. He began undressing himself. The white vial of strange oil popped open in his other hand. He rubbed the pendulum with it and then his tongue. It tasted awful, but Brad was used to it. He closed his eyes as his focus seemed to waiver. The white vial held a strong hallucinogen. The pendulum swayed around, finding its own focus. Bradley had dream walked before, he did it often without wanting to as he slept. One night he’d been going through the town, learning about it and seeing if he could find a good place to post an actual office. Last thing he wanted was a witch hunt- they somehow happened in the modern world still. Maybe it was the subconscious telling mortals there was magic? He’d been going past dreaming people, many spirits, and definitely ghosts. None bothered him. He looked over and saw something glint that night. He went to see out of curiosity and saw Rafael. He saw his soul squirm in sadness, worried about the future. To each their own, Bradley said, preparing to leave. “Oh, you know he seems interesting.” Alice said. “Ugh, no. Not right now, Alice.” “It’s that time of year.” She said, playing with her long, blonde locks. She weaved them into a bun and giggled. “AliCiel, look. I know I’m supposed to reach my quota, but I don’t know what to do right now. I did some pretty good things last year.” He said, sitting next to the sleeping Rafael. “It’s not even against your better being, honey, and as great as those things were, once again they weren't for yourself.” Alice said. She wore a very crisp white suit. “Fine, okay, so what do you want me to do?” Bradley said. His usual calm demeanor was wavering with annoyance. “Make a friend. All you have to do is something good for the better of others and for yourself.” Alice said. “So I just change him how he wants, and then I don’t deal with you again for a while?” Bradley snapped. “You make him confident in who he is, and improve him. Don’t replace him. You didn’t replace yourself, you just improved, remember? Besides, he's much more important than you think.” Alice said. The feathers of her jacket’s shoulders glistened. “Angels are almost as annoying as djinn, and are half as useful as demons. Have I ever told you that? I set up an extremely successful large-scale adoption agency that helps kids find homes last year, and that wasn't enough? You’re at least two months early.” Bradley bit. “Oh stop it, you know you love me. I’m your higher guardian. You don’t call on me often anymore, but I know you’ll always need me for some emergency.” She said, giggling. “Now help him. He’s trying hard, he just needs a push. You know it isn't small if I direct you to one person. He may look normal, but he’ll be important soon enough. Who knows, maybe you’ll learn to be friends with people.” So once again, Bradley found himself standing above the thin, average looking young man. He’d been seeing him regularly for a while now. If it were in person, it could be considered ‘stalking’, but Bradley had been doing most of his information gathering through dream walks and his black mirror. He learned about Rafael’s hard work, his skills, and his kindness. So tonight he’d help Rafael the best way he could think possible; giving him some will power. He knew that although Rafael worked out, studied hard, and tried his best there was always something dragging him down. Rafael’s father was dying and there was no family left to connect with Rafael. Maybe it was that? Maybe it was the bullying Rafael had received as a child. It could have been the differing look he carried in comparison to most of the ‘attractive’ people that he saw often in town. He was different too- he loved art and could not focus on certain things in life. Rafael was told time and time again to choose simple careers like his other schoolmates. The boy had not listened. Bradley didn’t feel too bad for him, everyone goes through this. Everyone can choose to be successful. And yet here he was, wondering what his Guardian Angel could mean about this seemingly normal man. As Rafael slept, Bradley poked his body, looking at what foundation there was to work with. Bradley was very good at magic of the flesh, but as Alice directed, he would have to do most of the work the good old fashioned way. He found that most minds kept intact better if they were changed slowly, anyway. _______________________________________ Rafael yawned and wrestled around with his sheets. He would get very cold and used a lot of them. His hands crept around slowly, half asleep, looking for his big pillow he would often sleep curled around. He rubbed something smooth, not like fabric. Rafael did so for a bit, looking for a way to grab on. His mind began noticing the anomaly that was skin not his own. “What the hell…?” He murmured, about to bounce out of the bed in a startle. “What’s wrong…?” murmured someone else in his bed. Rafael almost jumped out of the bed as he pulled the cover off. There lay a muscular, tall man. He curled up a little as his small red underwear proved weak only against the cold room and massive basket. Rafael had no time to pay attention to such things, but it became obvious in the seconds to come. Bradley curled around and opened an eye to look at him. He let a small smile show. “What’s wrong?” He asked, groaning and reaching for Rafael with his fair, sculpted arm. Rafael tried to gather his thoughts but was still very sleepy. He felt light as air as he tried to step out of the bed. Everything seemed to vibrate in different rhythms- making him want to lie back down. “Are you all right?” Bradley asked, getting up and stretching a bit. He yawned as his hands played through his hair. His chest heaved up with said yawn. Rafael couldn’t manage to respond and hung onto the edge of the bed, lest he puke or fall from the strange vibrating. Bradley didn’t show much emotion, as usual, but he seemed to carry a semblance of a smirk. He seemed almost cocky, in a way. “Come on, Rafael. Get back in bed. I told you I would return home in the morning.” “I’m not. What is…?” Rafael finally managed to say, stupefied. Bradley’s hand rubbed Rafael’s leg slowly. He whispered “Oh, you want to go again?” Rafael couldn’t manage to say anything and certainly not figure out what was going on, seeing tall Bradley pull himself out of bed and walk around. He stood in front of the sitting Rafael in the darkness. He lifted his arms and placed them behind his hands behind his back- stretching so as to show off his v-shaped body. His lats spread upward and framed what was an abdomen that could be made of marble. Bradley breathed in and let his chest expand outward, on display for Rafael. Rafael didn’t know what to do. He hoped that his time sitting up would help him awake and sense things better, but he felt light-headed even now. He felt like he was going to vibrate out of control, especially with Bradley showing off his body in such a way. Bradley let go of his pose and stepped closer to his small friend. “Do you plan on just sitting there, or touch me?” He said, quietly. Slowly Rafael responded by reaching out and feeling only Bradley’s skin. “Bradley, I don’t know where I am.” He whispered softly. Bradley hushed him and said, “Just call me Brad, Rafael. I already told you. Now enjoy what you like. It’s for you to do with what you will tonight.” Rafael calmed a bit and slowly got up. He still didn’t know how to feel, but he’d wanted to see what so much musculature was like. Brad was certainly lithe and tall, but his definition and dense mass looked amazing in the violet moonlight. Rafael’s hand moved around, feeling Bradley’s hard abdomen. There were no blemishes, no scars, all of it perfectly smooth skin. Rafael rubbed upward and felt Brad’s dense pectorals. They were like mounds of rock, stuck to a human’s front. Rafael couldn’t help but slide his finger up and down his cleavage. He could feel arousal rush through his legs. He couldn’t help but look up at Brad and observe every inch he wanted to since the first day they met. Rafael didn’t understand what he was feeling, but he certainly liked it. “Do you like my face?” Bradley asked, rubbing the smaller man’s shoulder. “Yes…” Rafael muttered quietly. His mind was adrift the blue mist in the room. “Do you fear me?” “Yes.” Bradley breathed in quickly to flex his biceps and show off his chest once more. He did this for a few seconds and then sat next to Rafael. “Do you want to be strong, like me?” Bradley asked. He held both Rafael’s hands on his legs, pushing the fingers over the ridges of his striated quadriceps. “Yes, I want to be strong.” Rafael coughed. The world stopped bouncing around and Rafael felt everything balance. He looked up at Bradley’s outstretched hand and put his own in its grasp. Immediately he felt a warmth- an energy. He closed his eyes. Everything seemed to move slowly. Rafael felt his blue boxers tighten as he looked down at his legs. They were outstretching along with his feet. He found himself skinny as a twig but as tall as Bradley. Bradley himself leaned in and kissed him passionately, squeezing him in muscular embrace. This sent a wave of ecstasy through Rafael. He felt his frame widen with sinew that grew between his shoulders and chest. His legs thickened as Bradley’s arms squeezed in on his abdomen. His waist tightened smaller. Bradley let go of Rafael, not once wavering his gaze. Rafael looked at his hands as they pulsed with blood. His arms had become veiny. He looked at his body and saw that it was solid as rock, pressing the veins out and stretching his dark brown skin. His hands still up he looked back at Bradley. “Flex for me, stud.” Bradley commanded. Rafael followed suit, posing himself only how he thought he could, since he’d never posed for anyone. He let out his arms and then showed off his biceps. He couldn’t manage to look forward at Bradley in shyness. Bradley managed to chuckle and pushed his arms slightly up to fix his pose. He let his fingers land between Rafael’s now stone-solid pectorals. They slid down, pushing to get to the cleavage’s base; Rafael instinctively flexed. Bradley then let his fingers run like a weaving snake between Rafael’s brick abdominals. “Are you a great man now, Rafael?” Bradley asked, “Strong enough to dominate me? I’m almost invincible, you see.” Rafael once more acted on instinct and reached out with his elbow to knock Bradley down. He didn’t know why his body reacted this way- he didn’t want to hurt Bradley. This was of no matter as Bradley quickly bent backward and then pulled himself up with ease. “Use the force you were given.” Bradley commanded, now certainly as menacing as ever. Rafael lifted his hands up into the air to slam onto Bradley, whom did not dodge. He instead reacted by tossing his own two arms above himself to take the hit. Rafael groaned as the force vibrated through both of them. Their forearms acted like blades; tough as steel. Rafael pressed down as hard as possible, feeling Bradley weaken. Bradley’s hands slipped to the sides as he moved out of the way. He opened his palms and thrust both arms straight at Rafael’s midsection. Almost as if time slowed down, the shockwave of force from Bradley’s shoulders exploded into and through his hands. They sent Rafael past the bed and on the floor. Bradley slowly walked around. “You need to be stronger, Rafael.” He said, lifting his foot above Rafael, preparing to slam into him. Rafael felt a tinge of fear as he saw the massive quad tightening and getting ready to crush him. As Bradley slammed his leg into the ground (so hard, the wooden floor shattered into the base under), Rafael quickly knocked him down with a swoop of his own leg. It was difficult hitting him, as they were both dense like metal. Even if he himself was this dense, the shock would cause pain. Bradley looked at him from the ground and finally smiled once more. He slowly crawled back to Rafael and whispered something that Rafael could not understand. They then kissed. Rafael woke up. He held his head. He looked around and saw the bed empty, aside from himself. He looked around and saw that the room was normal. No cracked floor. No mist. He crawled out of bed, as if dizzy from a night of alcohol. His eyes went to the mirror and saw no difference in his body. Just a dream. Then he saw it. He looked at his abdomen. It was tighter than the night before. He grew excited and flexed- just like Bradley had made him in the dream. His arms didn’t look much bigger, but they certainly had gained mass. Rafael couldn’t believe it and almost jumped with excitement. He looked at every corner of his body and saw a little progress everywhere. A single work out with Bradley had helped him so much. He thought it was impossible. And then Bradley was on his mind. He was so different and strange. Now he grew nervous, thinking about his obviously sexual needs for a man like Bradley. What was going on? Rafael sat down on his bed and tried to examine his situation. Eventually he got up and went on with his day, happy he had improved so much by making friends with someone. Bradley sat in his kitchen. He drank his coffee and rubbed his forehead. It was early in the morning. Xaekus had long finished his duties and must have grown tired of trying to see into his master’s affairs. Brad sneezed as the smell of sage and lavender blew out of the room. The curtains flailed slowly in the morning winds of the kitchen windows. “Why didn’t you just do it altogether?” Alice asked him from behind the counter. “Because he has a great deal of self-integrity. If I give it all to him now, he’d lose his respect for hard work. That’s one of his most amazing qualities.” Bradley said before sipping his coffee. “Did you call him amazing?” Alice giggled. “Did I say ‘amazing’? I meant to say ‘interesting’. It’s one of his more respectable qualities.” Bradley said. “Oh, I can definitely see him in your stars soon!” Alice said, walking out the kitchen door. She knocked over a file cabinet, not to anger Bradley, but to prod Xaekus. “I certainly hope not.” Bradley said, staring blankly at the dancing blue curtains. END TALE II Ending Author Note: I do apologize if there's not much sensuality in this story. I wanted to flesh out some more plot points in my series. I might add more to this story, but I doubt it. I have so many ideas for other tales that will span out to other characters (like a solo for Xak, he seemed popular in LM #1. Thank you once again for reading my work and giving me feedback.

Well, it's safe to say I'm using a lot of new things in this story. Never used the italic button so much in a story. Also, have never had someone grow at this speed. Thought I'd make enough parts today to reach a real growth spurt before I take a breather. Nick is starting to be a really interesting factor for me as I normally don't have someone with so much influence hanging around in a story (not to mention such a strong personality). Don't be afraid to correct me on him as this is my first time actually attempting a character like him. Comments and feedback please. Belly Down Part 3 The competition was going rather smoothly as the team arrived at their college gym. Kenny sat at the end of his own team's line of chairs as he sat and watched those of the class below fight it out on the mat. Isaiah was doing well to keep himself on his toes, almost being pinned down but squirming out with some quick readjustment. All the team knew that, if Isaiah wanted, he could be the perfect professional wrestler if he truly wanted to build himself big enough. Problem was Isaiah loved being the smallest and yet he was so good at what he did. In almost 10 seconds flat, he had the other guy on the floor and pinned, his skinny frame failing under the pure beef on Isaiah's arms and legs. Tapping out, the other guy walked off defeated and Isaiah came towards our side with an intense look. “What's wrong?” Kenny asked him. “It took me too long to get him. I need to work harder.” Isaiah sat down with a stern expression on his face. Kenny couldn't see Isaiah loved wrestling far more than he realized. Then again, Kenny wasnt aware of how much he loved wrestling deep down either. Someone else in his head knew, though. “Calling the next weight class!” came the voice of the intercom. Kenny felt his body pump with adrenaline as he felt his fears come alive. Casey arrived in time to wrap his hands around Kenny's thin shoulders and then his head gear. “You got it, Kenny. Put it all on the mat” he said own to him, his eyes focused on only Kenny. Kenny felt himself squirm in Casey's grasp before shaking himself out of it. He couldn't afford to grow a boner in the fabric of his tight singlet. Speaking of which, it was suddenly starting to chaff as he escaped his friend's grasp. “Right.” he said. Kenny saw the other guy he was up against and felt like he was going to cry. He was 142 pounds of lean muscle. Veins were running down his arms like spider webs. His muscles werent big but they were definitely below 5% body fat. Kenny was practically wetting himself before the referee even blew the whistle. Circling in the same direction as his opponent, Kenny ran scared when he threw a hand out and nearly got him by the neck. Kenny felt every thought of fear crossed his mind. I can't do this, he thought. I can't defeat a guy who's that strong looking. Kenny was proven to be up against someone strong, not just strong looking, as he was grabbed and slowly pulled into the opponent's grasp. He's too strong. I can't do it. I'm not big enough. I'm not strong enough. I can't win. Before long, Kenny was pinned on the ground in a rough grab and losing air faster than a balloon with a hole. That's one more loss on the chalk bored. Great job, Kenny. Not like you'd win against a lean ball of muscle like this when you got to this class with nothing but fat. Kenny was about to tap out when he heard Nick's voice. And that's where you're wrong. How could I make you any stronger with fat? At that, Kenny felt burning that he thought was the air leaving his brain. I'm not strong enough for this, I can't be. And you're wrong again. See how this works? Assumptions, assumptions. All you have to do is want to more. You want more strength, take it! You want more size, take it. I'm supposed to be in this box you call a head. How about you do yourself a favor and think outside of it. Kenny heard the words ring in his head. Time seemed to slow as he came to a realization. I fucking want to win. Oh really? Then win. Stop making fucking excuses. At that, Kenny felt his body tense. The guy wrapped around him, pinning in down, was glad to have gotten such an easy target to go up against. He'd lost the last match and couldn't afford to let himself get down in the dumps because of some loss. When he saw Kenny, he knew he'd win. There was nothing stopping him from taking a free win. Nothing except he could feel something wrong in his hold. He struggled hard to hold himself in place but he knew something was wrong. The guy he was holding was really fighting his grip now. His arms were tensed as he fought with the little guy's grip on his tensed arm. His arm was tightly fastened around Kenny's neck but, little by little, he was losing the fight and Kenny's face was becoming a lot less red and sweaty as he slowly pulled off his arm. Kenny had a wicked smile as he pulled with more and more strength on the guy he was up against. Everything was burning and..... it all felt so good. With a quick roll, Kenny was back on his feet again. Kenny didn't know what came over him but he felt every muscle tighten in his body, including his 2 inch cock in his singlet, the short stub suddenly chubbing to its hard 4 inches. Of course, as the two circled around each other, the opponent Kenny was up against felt his eyes hurt as the atmosphere around the boy he was up against got wavy and hard to see. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought the guy was a little bigger than he remembered. Also, he looked down and saw that his cock was hard and starting to go down his leg. He was used to seeing it as, in the heat of wrestling, its average for the blood to pump a bunch and cause a spontaneous boner. What he wasn't used to seeing was watching it grow hard to a measly 4 inches and then seem to slowly lengthen. The guy thought he was seeing things at first but, as he continued, he was sure. This kid wasn't in his weight class anymore. Before he knew, Kenny had made a grab for and, though he fought, the opponent was on his back and struggling against a wave of new strength he didnt expect from a previously little guy. The opposing teams and their coaches were cheering as Kenny turned the tables unexpectedly. He struggled but he could hear what sounded like a grumble as the kid held his grip over him and locked him. He was trapped like a bird in an iron cage. Reluctantly, the opponent tapped his hand against the mat with his free arm. He held his head in shame as he returned to his team with another defeat. He couldn't figure out what happened but he remembered the last thing he saw. That red headed little guy who suddenly wasnt so little...... with red eyes. Kenny returned to his team and looked across their shocked faces. Even Hans's big mug was gaping open at the sight of Kenny and his win. Casey had a big arm on Kenny's shoulders and a big, shit eating grin on his face. “Fuck yeah! Told you you'd kill it!” he said as he threw his other arm tightly around Kenny and pulled him in for a big hug. Kenny felt himself melt in Casey's grasp as he felt the big muscles wrap around him and give a new kind of warmth to his cold, sweaty body. Kenny pulled on a weak smile as he felt the on his face. “ You know we're going to fucking celebrate, right?” Casey said as he released Kenny. He stealthily looked down and smiled as he caught sight of his roommate's crotch and smiled. Kenny's cock was hard and very noticeable at its 6 inches. Casey quickly looked back int Kenny's eyes. He knew Kenny wasn't ready to admit he liked Casey. That was fine for him though Kenny didn't know it. Kenny himself couldn't figure out what was up with himself. He felt the new power coursing through his body and deeply felt happy about it and yet he knew where the source was. As long as I'm with you, you'll never be “weak” or “pathetic” again, came the echo of a voice within him. “ Slow down, killer! You're going to get sick eating that fast!” Casey said as he patted Kenny's back. Kenny was having trouble stopping himself from eating as he chowed down another large double cheese burger topped with fries on the patty. Kenny didn't know why but his stomach had been gurgling all the way to the fast food joint as he rode in Casey's car. Kenny stopped scarfing down fries to look up embarrassed as he looked at Casey. He couldn't figure out why Casey was looking at him with such a happy look on his face. Casey's were so beautiful as they looked into Kenny's. Kenny was redder than a tomato as he realized he'd just scarfed down 3 double cheese burgers like an animal in front of his roommate like a glutton and sat up straight. “Sorry, I'm just so fucking hungry. I don't know what's come over me.” “I see what you mean, man. I don't know what it was but, somewhere in that match, you were just changed and you were coming at him like a fucking demon!” Kenny cringed at the sound of the word demon. Oh please, you can't react to every time someone throws that word at you, came Nick's voice. I don't start shaking in boots every time someone shouts 'Jesus Christ' or 'God dammit'. Kenny ignored the voice as he looked down at his food. He still had 2 more burgers to finish and the one he was eating was just about destroyed. Casey saw the look in Kenny's eyes and smiled. “Don't be so shy, champ. A winning man needs lots of food if he's gonna keep winning, right?” he said as he lifted a handful of fries and started eating. He couldn't loose to his roommate in such a competition as eating. Kenny only smiled as he looked at his food again. “Hey........ can we go to the gym? I really need to see myself in profile” he felt brave enough to say. Casey looked shocked at what he just heard but nodded his head. “Uh, sure, man. We can work out a little too if you want” he joked. “That'd be great, man” Kenny said. Casey stopped eating and looked at Kenny. What part of him had started calling him 'man'. That wasn't something Kenny would say. “155.” Kenny's jaw dropped as he heard that number. Casey wasn't far off as he looked at the number at disbelief. “ Well that's impossible. We just weighed you yesterday. You're 134. That's 20 pounds....” Casey looked at Kenny and began to ponder that as he looked him over. Kenny didn't look quite the same in his uniform now. The singlet he'd worn under his clothes at the fast food restaurant was a lot tighter than he remembered as he looked him over. His arms were starting to look kind of rounded now that Casey looked at them. His shoulders and traps were a little bit more full than they were before. As he looked further downward, Casey could see that a bit muscle was showing in his friend's chest area. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought they were pecs. As he looked further down, he saw that the muscle in the waist, the singlet was struggling against Kenny's 6 pack. What was most noticeable was Kenny's lower body. Casey was shocked at the new definition in Kenny's legs. They were actually fighting against the singlet with a real push, making the flesh remain constantly flexed against the constraints of the leg holes. Casey had looked at the waist of his friend's body and gasped as he saw something he didn't remember in Kenny's crotch. A cock about 4 inches in length was starting to grow and elongate down Kenny's leg. He'd accidentally caught Kenny naked in their dorm and knew without a doubt Kenny wasn't all that big if not ridiculously small. That was no longer the case as Casey saw Kenny's cock bounce and push through the fabric of the singlet leg. Before long, Kenny was sporting a thick 7 incher in his crotch now. One that was starting to form a wet spot at the angry tip. Casey licked his lips before shaking his head clear and looking back up at Kenny. “ Scale must be fucking broken.” Kenny looked up with his big blue eyes at Casey. “Yeah, definitely.” Casey put his big hand on Kenny's shoulder. It was kind of hard now. “ Ready for a workout, kid?” he asked Kenny face to face. That was when he realized it. Kenny was taller than he remembered. He looked down and realized he'd never been so close to Kenny standing on the scale. Kenny took the invitation to work out as permission to leave the scale. “Sure, Casey” he said up to him. Casey took the response but he still looked shocked. Casey remembered for sure. He was 6'1. Kenny was 5'6. He remembered being able to look at the top of his head. Now, he had to stand completely straight to see the top of his hair. Must be my imagination, he thought as he began the walk to the other part of the gym. He wasn't aware of what was growing inside Kenny. And per usual, neither did Kenny. To Be Continued.

Here's part one of a new idea I had. The growth starts small but I plan on having the morphing continue as our hero(?) deals with the results of his actions. Please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2014 by [email protected] Tit for Tat Mickey was dead tired but arguing did that to him. That was one of the reasons he never argued with girls – it was exhausting and you were never gonna convince them of anything, so why bother? He unlocked the door to his apartment, stepped inside and kicked the door shut with his foot. His arms were full with his briefcase, tennis bag and dry cleaning but he just tossed them in a heap on the sofa. Glancing at the clock he saw it was almost 10 PM already – fuck, a whole evening wasted. He hadn’t even had time for the gym. The girl’s name was Amy and when he saw her standing outside a coffee shop in Oldtown a month ago he had whistled to himself and pulled his car over into an advantageous parking spot. It was summer and she wasn’t wearing much – a beautiful girl with long hair, long legs and an amazing rack. She was just his type as long as it didn’t take a huge investment to get her in the sack. It usually didn’t take Mickey long to score. He’d graduated from Notre Dame two years earlier having coasted through school on a baseball scholarship. He never kidded himself that he was good enough to make it in the majors but baseball got him a degree and more tail than even he could shake his dick at. Girls at school were already primed to go for baseball jocks but with his blue eyes and the dirty blonde hair on his head and chest he hit a homerun every time. He was all smooth muscle everywhere else with broad shoulders, thick arms and a tight waist, not to mention his own long, strong legs and a fat dick between them to complete the package. He wasn’t exactly huge down there but definitely bigger than average. He got the job done. And he was nice too, or seemed so when he was trying to get their panties off. He was very nice to Amy that July afternoon, nice and polite and didn’t mention her tits once even if he stole a glance or two when she was looking down bashfully. They ended up going into the coffee shop and he had her number before the barista finished making their lattes. Turned out that for all her blushing and shy looks Amy was a kick in bed. It took two dinners to get her there and Mickey was justifiably proud when he was able to sidle into her apartment after the second date, a smooth move that ended up with them naked on the hallway floor outside her bedroom. And those tits – they were everything he knew they’d be. After the hallway they managed to make it to her bed for the second fuck and then he kissed her goodnight and went home. It was a school night after all. The truth was he didn’t like staying over. He was convinced that girls spent the time when a guy was asleep next to them in bed planning out weddings and marriage and all the other shit he had no time for. Better to keep things a bit more casual by ending up back in his bed at night. It was part of the reason he preferred to fuck at the girl’s place since it was easier to escape than it was to convince her to leave his apartment. They fucked around for three or four weeks and it was all fun, at least the sex part. It didn’t take long for the dinners and earnest conversations to get boring. Amy was a beautiful girl but God could she talk. He couldn’t remember half of what came out of her mouth; a mixture of romantic idiocy, liberal crap and uninteresting details about the thesis she was writing on American folklore. Pretty soon their dates turned into hookups with minimal interaction prior to jumping in bed. But girls like Amy couldn’t be happy without all the stuff advertising and romantic comedies told them should go along with great sex. After a month he realized the sex wasn’t gonna make up for all the hoops she wanted him to jump through to get to her tits. Still, there was no reason to be a complete dick about it. He handed her a story about not being over his last relationship and needing time to himself to sort things out – that kind of bullshit. Problem was her university wasn’t far from his office so when she appeared at the side of his car in the parking garage one evening after he’d left the office he had no choice but to agree to a latte to discuss what had happened. She did her best to talk him into working things out but not even her rack could convince him to keep going. He spent most of the time mentally going over his fantasy football team. “You never really wanted this to work, did you?” she asked and that got through to him. Maybe it was the tone of voice, which was much colder than usual. “Babe, that’s not true,” he said with a sad note in his own voice. “I really thought I was ready but I guess I’m not. And I know that sucks, I really do, but I’ve got to be honest with myself. I just need space right now.” She crossed her arms over her chest and they rested there on those two big mounds of support. For just a moment he was tempted to… but no, he’d regret it. “I think it was just about the sex, that’s what I think. You just wanted to fuck.” She wasn’t trying to be quiet now and a couple nearby heads in the café swiveled in their direction. OK, Mickey thought, time to shut this down. “I’m sorry you think that, Amy,” he said standing up from their table. “It’s really sad that your mind works that way. I thought so much more of you.” He gave her a sad shrug before heading towards the door to the street. She followed him outside. “Just fucking admit it, Mick. For once just be honest. It was just about sex wasn’t it?” He stopped on the sidewalk and turned back to her. She wasn’t cute anymore, she was just annoying. He hated girls who couldn’t accept the facts of life. He was man, she was a woman, they had some fun – that’s all there was to it. He decided to give her the honesty she asked for. That was his big mistake. “OK, fine, you’re right. I wanted to fuck so we fucked. I thought you were cute and had amazing tits so we fucked. Are you happy now?” From the look on Amy’s face she was anything but happy. Even Mickey could see that she was hurt but overlaying that was very obvious anger. He was suddenly glad that she had never been to his apartment. “Yeah, I’m great,” she said in a low quiet voice that was almost lost in the evening murmur of city traffic. “I’m just dandy, Mickey.” “Glad to hear it,” he replied though by now he didn’t care in the least. “So then we’re all done here.” Her eyes glinted in the fading twilight and for a moment he thought she was about to cry but then she smiled a rueful smile and seemed to get herself under control. “Yeah, I think we’re pretty much done,” she answered and then stepped forward, going up on her tiptoes. It looked like she was going to give him a goodbye kiss but at the last second she averted her face so that her lips slid up next to his right ear. She whispered something then, something long and complicated that he was never able to recall, and he stood there frozen until she was done. Then she stepped back and he caught a glimpse of her now triumphant smile before she turned and walked off down the sidewalk, never once turning back. “Crazy chick,” he muttered to himself and then glanced at his watch. Damn, he was running late. Now he was finally home trying to forget everything that had happened. She was just one more girl who couldn’t handle a grown up relationship. Life sucked for guys like him who knew what they wanted and, more importantly, what they didn’t want. Sure, someday he’d settle down with some beautiful, young lady and start a family out in the suburbs but that wouldn’t be until he was at least thirty. Maybe even forty. By then he’d be making big money and there wasn’t any reason he couldn’t snap up some young coed looking for a handsome father figure. But right now he was beat and it was all he could do to drink a quick protein shake before crawling into bed more than an hour before his normal time. Stupid, exhausting girls he managed to think before falling into a deep slumber. He felt better in the morning. Much better as a matter of fact. He whistled as he got ready for work and tried out a selection of dazzling smiles in the mirror while shaving. He felt happy, giddy even, and the events of the previous evening only lightly touched at the periphery of his mind. Life was good and he was going to go out and enjoy it. After wiping the shaving cream off his face he stopped and looked at himself once more. There was no denying he was one hot motherfucker. Yep, everything was just about perfect. Just about. Then an idea came out of left field, something he’d never considered for himself and had always thought was pretty ridiculous on other guys. Despite the strange nature of the impulse he didn’t hesitate and picked up his shaving cream again, releasing a large dollop of cream onto his hand and then rubbing into the hair on his left pec. It only took ten seconds to completely cover his chest and the treasure trail of hair that led down his abs to his groin. It was a couple minutes more work to completely denude his torso leaving it as smooth as, well, as a baby’s butt so the saying goes. He wiped off the cream and stood there a little nonplussed. Never in his life had he considered doing the manscaping thing. It certainly made is chest stand out more, made it more sensitive he thought as he ran his left hand over the smooth skin. The hand stopped on top of his right nipple and he couldn’t help tweaking the hard nub which had grown erect in the cool air of the bathroom. He shivered then but more from the sensation coming from his nipple than the air. He exhaled a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and quickly stepped into the shower. Enough playing around or he’d be late for work. On his drive to the office he couldn’t help noticing how his undershirt felt sliding across the smooth expanse of his torso. It was erotic in a strange way, enough that he had a chubby most of the way into work. Truth was his suit pants and dress shirt seemed to be rubbing him in a lot of strange places too. He wondered if the dry cleaner had shrunk them both. Mickey worked in sales at an advertising firm. It was good job for someone with self-confidence and a winning personality, and he wasn’t lacking in either. He shared an office with a fellow jock named Doug who had played football for Michigan and had graduated a couple years before Mickey finished school. They got along pretty well except for the couple weeks before the Notre Dame – Michigan game. As soon as he got into the office Mickey had to hustle to make it to his boss’ weekly sales meeting. He slipped into the conference room just as Mr. Wilhite was getting started, sharing a nod with Doug who was sitting in a chair near the end of the conference table. Mickey took a seat across from him and flashed an apologetic smile to Wilhite who droned on without noticing. The meeting was as boring as ever and didn’t take long for Mickey’s mind to wander. He began to daydream about how the rest of his day would go. Work, of course, but afterwards he’d hit the gym hard to make up for missing last night. He had a feeling that today’s work out would be killer. Might even start that mass building program he’d be thinking about, put on some real muscle like Doug on the other side of the table. It was easy to see that the linebacker back had kept up with his workouts after leaving school. His arms filled his sleeves and when he stretched, like just now, the buttons on his dress shirt looked like they had a tough time keeping his chest contained. It was difficult to say whether his chest was smooth or hairy but maybe if he–. “You have something on your mind, Mr. Rose?” a voice said cutting through his thoughts and Mickey literally jumped in response. He caught a glimpse of Doug giving him a puzzled stare before whipping around to see Mr. Wilhite with a much less friendly expression on his wrinkled face. “Uh, I’m sorry, what sir? What was that?” He felt warm and flustered like he’d be caught with his pants down. Shit that might actually be a good thing; they felt so fucking tight in the butt and thighs. “I was hoping you could fill us in on your sales progress this week,” Wilhite said in a very cold and measured voice. Mickey did his best though he still felt out of sorts. After he’d gone over his account book they continued around the table, Doug calling out two major wins he’d pulled off in just the last few days. Mickey listened but kept his eyes on the table, trying to concentrate but finding it difficult. His mind suddenly seemed to be floating a bit, wandering in and out of focus. What the fuck was wrong with him? Was he coming down with something? Doug asked the same thing when they were back in their office after the meeting ended. Mickey shook his head and told him he was just a little tired, inventing a late night with some girl in his apartment complex to explain his spacy attitude. Apparently that made perfect sense to Doug who launched into a more detailed story about a hook up he’d had with a woman on the client side, something that was strongly discouraged at their company though all of the guys flouted the rule whenever they had the chance. Mickey listened to his hunky officemate describe the torrid scene in the empty coat check room of a downtown restaurant and couldn’t help slipping away into another dream state as he imagined Doug going to town on some faceless broad. She truly was faceless, a mere shadow in his mind though Doug was displayed in intimate detail; so much so that when dream Doug dropped his pants Mickey’s mouth fell open and he leaned forward to get glimpse of his huge–. “What the fuck, dude?” Doug said and Mickey once again had to shake himself awake. Mickey found himself pitched forward in his chair staring up at the former football player who was leaning back against the edge of the desk on the other wall of the small office. He gulped and quickly sat back, trying to say something, anything, to explain his odd behavior. “Quit staring at my junk,” Doug laughed and then dropped down into his office chair to get back to work. After a silent moment Mickey swiveled around and did the same. By the time lunch rolled around it seemed his missteps had been forgotten so he and Doug went out to grab something to eat at a food court in a nearby building. Mickey’s head was clearer now and as he stepped out onto the sidewalk he took a deep breath of the clean, summer air. It felt amazing. Lunchtime in the city was always crazy so they weaved their way through the crowd, dodging tourists and other office workers also out enjoying the weather. They crossed the street and walked across an open plaza before passing into another building. Just inside Mickey caught site of men’s room and waved Doug on ahead to the food court. “Gotta drain the main vein,” he joked and headed into the restroom. “Great idea, me too,” he heard Doug reply behind them and a moment later they were standing at neighboring urinals. Mickey unzipped and started taking a leak, his eyes looking off into the depths of the tile wall in front of him, following the grout between the square tiles and making invisible patterns. He could dimly hear Doug going on about something next to him but it didn’t seem important and soon his head lolled around, his eyes glancing down at his own dick and then sliding over to his neighbor’s. Doug was big, just like he imagined. It also looked like he trimmed down there so maybe that’s why he looked so large, cuz it wasn’t covered up at all. He was cut too, just like Mickey, which was good. It’d be easier to work on a dick like his own, at least the first time. “Guess you like what you see,” Doug said in a low voice and Mickey’s looked up to see his work buddy staring right into his eyes, grinning slightly. No, not grinning. Sneering. A part of him quailed at that look which signified that Doug wasn’t looking at him as another dude but as something much less. Some sort of pervert, a fairy. He opened his mouth to object, to deny such a sick thing, but he couldn’t say a word. Instead he just stuck out his tongue and ran it around his lips, moistening them, making them shining and inviting. Doug just shook his head in disgust and zipped up, exiting the restroom without washing up. It took a moment for Mickey to get control of himself but when he did he slowly zipped up as well and staggered to a sink. God, he really was sick. Something was wrong and he had to get out of here before it got worse. Outside the restroom he saw Doug waiting but with his eyes on his cell phone. Mickey made a break for the doors back to the street. It was still sunny and beautiful out on the plaza but he ignored all that and made a beeline back to the office. In the elevator on the way up he found himself sandwiched behind a delivery guy in a brown polyester uniform. He looked down at the guy’s large thighs which were only half covered by the shorts he was wearing. The calves below looked strong too and he could imagine fondling them, kneeling down and running his cheek over them, the coarse hair scratching the soft skin of his face. When the elevator doors opened on his floor he shoved his way past people towards the front to escape but couldn’t stop himself from turning his head to catch the profile of the delivery guy, from his strong chin down past his thick chest to the bulge in his shorts. He thought he might have seen the guy’s eyes flick his direction but then he’d escaped into the reception area of his office and made a dash for his office, ignoring the looks he got from the receptionists and the people on the office floor. Alone in his office he took a moment to collect himself. He had no idea where all these crazy thoughts were coming from but he knew he had to get home where he could clear his head and get everything back on track. That whole weird thing with Doug would be hard to explain but he’d take care of it somehow. He was good at coming up with explanations for the shit he did – he could manage this one too. Doug might be back at any moment and he knew he had to avoid that so he gathered his stuff and casually went back out onto the office floor. He told reception he’d be out for the rest of the day on sales calls but to email him if anything important came up, then he took a mercifully empty elevator down to the parking garage and his car. The drive home was uneventful. He woke up several hours later sprawled out on his bed, a bit groggy but otherwise OK. He stumbled to the bathroom and took a piss but on his way out glanced in the mirror and did a double take. He stared for a moment then quickly stepped to the full length mirror on his closet door. “What the fuck?” he muttered. His body had changed. He knew the body he washed and clothed and worked out and this wasn’t it, not quite. At first he thought it might just be because the hair was gone on his torso which was really the only hair he had except for that on his head, pits and groin. And yeah, his chest did definitely look different, looked larger, but his waist looked smaller. And his ass – it had been uncomfortable all morning in his suite and he could see that somehow it was fuller and rounder. It stretched the fabric of his boxers to the limit. His chest was… well, it was amazing. He’d never been one of those big body dudes like Doug but then it was never a look he wanted or needed, not for baseball. Now his pecs looked bigger, like he’d gotten some sort of super pump at the gym. Just as earlier that morning he slid his hands over the smooth mass of them and ended up on both nipples, nipples that looked much more pronounced than normal. It seemed so natural to grab them between his thumb and forefinger, to twist them hard and hear the low, sensual moan that escaped from his mouth as the sensation hit home. The doorbell rang at that moment. Mickey’s eyes widened and a guilty look washed across his face as if he’d been interrupted doing something not quite right. He stood there frozen, hoping that whoever it was would just go away. He couldn’t see anyone right now, not before he figured out what was going on, what virus or hormonal issue had caused all this. He needed to get to a doctor, some kind of specialist–. The bell rang again and was followed a few seconds later by a heavy knocking on the front door. It sounded like whoever it was wasn’t in the mood to come back. He slowly walked to the door and peered through the peephole to see Doug’s distorted image. Jesus, what was he doing here? “I can hear you, asshole,” Doug called through the door and Mickey knew he was caught. He took a deep breath and then cracked the door, hiding most of himself behind it. “Hey man, what’s up?” he asked trying to sound normal. “You tell me – why’d you ditch me?” “I’m really sorry, I felt like I was gonna heave or something. I just needed to get home and get some rest, so I’ve been-.” “Dude, what the fuck? “ Doug interrupted looking annoyed. “I came here to check on you and I gotta stand on the fuckin’ porch?” Mickey hesitated and then stepped back from the door, letting Doug come inside. His visitor looked him up and down making Mickey feel very vulnerable in his too-tight boxers in contrast to Doug’s business suit. He mumbled an apology and headed to the bedroom to grab some clothes, his mind once again whirling. Something about his coworker’s presence had once again put him off kilter, like he was half-drunk or something. Maybe this all had something to do with Doug and not some sort of hormonal thing. Things had been kinda strange since this morning when he woke up but they definitely got worse at work when… His thoughts trailed off as he realized that Doug was watching him from the bedroom doorway, the same smile from earlier on his lips. Mickey was still in his boxers and still felt vulnerable but somehow it wasn’t a completely bad feeling. Part of his mind was confused and jumbled but another deeper part almost liked the feeling that came over him when he saw his officemate stand there, so strong and commanding. He couldn’t help the coy, inviting look that stole over his face, which seemed to be just what the other man was waiting for. Doug stepped into the room and crossed over to him, his big body coming to rest mere inches away. “So what really made you run away?” he asked in a low voice as one oversized hand slid up the side of Mickey’s torso. Mickey could only sigh in response as Doug’s touch made his skin come alive. He arched his back, throwing his chest forward in stark relief. The big man chuckled and placed his other hand on the smooth expanse of Mickey’s pecs, kneading the muscle in his strong grip and setting off fireworks in the baseball player’s brain. Suddenly he was in cradled in Doug’s arms and the big man’s lips came down hard on his own. Mickey couldn’t fight it anymore and didn’t want to, grabbing the other man around the neck and kissing him back. He felt Doug’s leg come between his own and instinctively he began riding the other’s muscled thigh, grinding his crotch in wild abandon. Doug’s hands slid down into Mickey’s already strained boxers and cupped the globes of his ass. When a thick finger moved between them and rubbed at his asshole Mickey felt a charge shoot through him that he’d never felt before. How was it even possible for something to feel so good, so completely right? He didn’t know or care and when Doug slid the boxers down his legs and past his knees Mickey hopped out of them to stand nude in his coworker’s arms, at least for a moment. Doug pushed him back until Mickey was forced to drop down into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He looked up at the big man, mouth open and eyes wide with lust. One of Doug’s hands cupped the side of his face. “Damn, baby,” he growled, “you shoulda told me you were down for some fun.” Doug slid his thumb in to Mickey’s mouth and watched him suck it, the lower man’s eyes still glued to those of the man above him. After a moment he pulled his thumb out and gripped Mickey’s head tightly with both hands, forcing his face into his crotch and against the thick tube that arched to the left under his suit pants. Mickey moaned again as he felt the heat of that throbbing dick through the fabric, aching to feel it free and rubbing him skin to skin. If there was any part of him that objected to Doug’s rough treatment it was hidden away, screaming in some dark corner of his mind. Something new had taken over, something that commanded him to give himself to Doug, to do whatever the other man demanded of him. It was what he needed more than anything, to submit to the bigger man’s desire. Whatever he wanted Mickey knew he would do. Doug shrugged off his suit coat and threw it on a nearby chair. His tie and dress shirt quickly followed leaving just a tight t-shirt covering his upper body. He pulled this up over his head and Mickey drank in the sight of Doug’s corrugated stomach and expansive chest as they were displayed. Apparently there had been no new grooming habits for Doug this morning because his torso was covered with a short carpet of dark hair that swirled in a pattern around his nipples and then led down to the packed mound of his groin. He leered down at Mickey as he unbuckled his pants and let them drop to the floor revealing a pair of red boxer briefs that were molded to mass of his erection. Mickey dove for the other man’s dick, mouthing the thick tool through the briefs while his arms circled around Doug’s big thighs. The bigger man threw his head back and reveled in the sensation. God he loved desperate little pigs like this. He’d never have guess that Mickey was one but it was a damn good thing he’d finally found out. He looked back down at Mickey just as the other man slipped off the bed and onto his knees. Mick attacked Doug’s dick with renewed ardor, slobbering through the cloth that covered the huge pole as if hoping to actually eat through the briefs. Doug decided to help him out by pulling down his waistband and letting it swing free to slap the face of the subservient slut. A moment later Mickey opened wide and slid his mouth down Doug’s dick, gagging himself as he attempted to take it all in. “That’s it baby,” Doug growled grabbing the back of Mick’s head and forcing him to take another inch. “You’re gonna take it all on both ends.” An hour later Doug pulled on his and pants then stood up from the bed and slipped into his loafers. He looked down at Mickey who lay on his stomach, his ass still raised as if in invitation. With a grin the big man slapped it hard, the sound ringing out in the bedroom and mixing with a deep moan from Mickey. “Fuck me again,” he breathed, his eyes fixed on Doug’s crotch. “Damn, you’re a little slut aren’t you,” Doug laughed in response. “Sure, I’ll fuck you again but right now I got work to do.” “You can come back. Anytime you want you can have it, I swear.” “Don’t worry baby, I’ll be back,” he assured the eager bottom while his hand went to Mickey’s ass again, this time to grab and fondle it. Doug turned away to continue dressing and Mickey watched him while unconsciously pulling at one of his sore, distended nipples. His body hurt in ways it had never hurt before but he still felt a deep need and craving to get fucked again. It made no sense but he didn’t care – he just knew he’d have to get it again and soon, if not from Doug then from some other man. “Don’t get it twisted though,” Doug said from the bedroom doorway, completely dressed now and ready to leave. “I’ve already got a girlfriend and I’m not looking for another one.” “I don’t care,” Mickey replied with a lazy smile, “I just wanna fuck. That’s all I ever wanted.”

This is one of my all time favorite stories that was on the old forum. I took the liberty of posting it here in the hopes that you all might be able to find more stories like it. I would love to see an illustration of this as well. Just putting that out there haha. Also if you're wondering why the text looks funny, trust me it looks a lot worse on the archive. ....................... `Backfired Spell` by slave4life `Part 1` `` `Darren was a complete asshole. He was the most arrogant guy I had ever met with a sadistic streak that he took out on me. ` ` ` `My name is Paul. I had just started my junior year of college and was living on campus. I went to a community college my first to years at home and was living in the dorms for the first time ever. I had a few friends at the school but they already had living arrangements so the student housing office paired me with Darren. I was immediately attracted to him. He was 5’9 a lean muscular build dark hair and piercing blue eyes. He has very little body fat and weighed in at 17` pounds. He loved spending time at the gym. He was not a bodybuilder by any means but had more of a boy next door look. In high school he was on the wrestling and lacrosse team. In college he began playing rugby for fun. ` ` ` `However, at first meeting he wanted nothing to do with me. I was below average in every way 5’6 and a 13` pounds wet. I was never into working out but liked running so have a very slim build. I am also extremely shy so am very quiet and have a difficult time making new friends. I did not fit anywhere into his social standing.` ` ` `At first he just ignores me but then things got progressively worse. At first it was small things like intimidating me with his size over me to get his way. Then he began to slap me around. When he realized I was too afraid to fight back he began threatening me to do tasks for him like cleaning his clothes, making his food and completing his homework (except math which I was terrible at). He stopped using my name. He simply referred to me as slave or bitch. ` ` ` `One day he came home drunk and woke me up and told me he noticed the way I stared at him every time he took his shirt off. He said he knew what faggots like me wanted and proceeded to shove his cock down my throat. He threatened to hurt me if I didn’t take it. I was so afraid of him I let him do what he wanted (though in the back of my mind enjoyed it). Soon I was not only his house slave but his sex slave. He never showed any kind emotion to me though. I was just a thing to him. I hated living with him and tried switching roommates but the student affairs office said there was no openings. I was too embarrassed to tell them what was really happening. I also thought about dropping out and moving home but my parents were so proud of me for being the first in the family to attend a University. On top of that they would have been out of a lot of money. I was stuck in hell.` ` ` `During Spring break my parents had dragged me to an estate sale. My father had purchased a large crate of old books. When we got home he left them on the counter to search though later. I was curious and began searching though it. At the bottom of the crate there was a very old, dusty and torn book. When I opened it I quickly realized it was a book of spells and magic. I of course thought didn’t believe it was real but was still curious so I snuck it up to my room. Jokingly I read one of the spells out loud trying to turn my blonde hair dark brown. When nothing happened I laughed and went to bed. ` ` ` `When I woke up the next morning to pee I was astonished when I looked into the mirror and had a head full of dark hair. Shaking I ran back to the book flipped to the spell and recited a counter to reverse it. Bewildered I watched in the mirror as my hair reverted back to blonde before my eyes. This book was for real! My mind began to focus on Darren and the revenge I could reap onto him. ` ` ` `The book contained several spells that could be fun to use but one caught my eye. The spell was a strength stripping spell. The victim of the spell would be stripped of all their strength and muscle leaving them a weak and powerless. It was a permanent spell. So even after it was cast they would not be able to gain strength even by working out. It was meant to strip warlords and kings of their power an authority. It would be perfect to use on Darren. The spell seemed very complicated and the faded and torn page was hard to read but I was desperate to make it work.` ` ` `I returned to school like nothing had changed. Darren was already there and when I opened the door exclaimed “On your knees and suck my dick faggot” I complied but laughing in my head that things were about to change.` ` ` `The next day when Darren left for classes I began to prepare for the spell. The spell had called for black candles but I couldn’t find any. I did not want to use white but figured red candles would be fine. The spell had called for some very specific herbs. When I went to the herb store to get them I was having a hard time locating them. The teenager behind the counter did not seem interested in helping me. I located what I believed to me most of them but one. When I asked the worker where it was he rolled his eyes and walked me down one aisle. They were out of it. I told him it was an emergency and need it now. He grabbed a packet near the empty space and told me that it pretty much was the same thing. Again in my desperation for revenge I ignorantly accepted the package not realizing that the teenager simply did not want to deal with me and simply handed me a random package of herbs.` ` ` `Frantically I rushed back to the room. I began mixing the necessary ingredients into a bowl. As I was cutting one of the roots I was shaking and I accidentally knocked my finger with the knife. A few drops of my blood leaked into the mixture but I kept working. I had to place symbols on the ground. I used a can of spray paint. In addition to several other symbols I had to make a large circle on the ground that he had to step in. I put it a few feet in front of the door. There was supposed to be some sort of symbol in the middle of it but that part of the page was so faded I could barely make it out. I had noticed a symbol drawn near it though that looked like a sideward 8. I figured that was it and was happy someone was nice enough to document the faded symbol. I painted it onto the ground. ` ` ` `I knew Darren would be home soon so I took my place. The spell had an enchantment I was supposed to read. It too was very faded. So I copied it onto a piece of paper so I could read it easier. I thought I had copied it correctly.` ` ` `Nervously I waited for what seemed like an eternity when the door handle began to jiggle.` ` ` `Darren walked in and kicked his sandals off. Then he looked around. He looked down at the circle with the sideward 8 that he was standing in and looked at me and said “What the fuck”?` ` ` `Everything was going as planned. I quickly read the spell out loud perfectly. Darren tried to walk toward me angrily but when he reached the end of the painted circle he was unable to exit it. He had a look of terror and bewilderment in his eyes.` ` ` `With my hands shaking I lit a match and threw it into the mixing bowl of ingredients I had placed on the ground a few feet before me. The bowl burst and smoke began to rise from it. It was not normal smoke it was an eerie yellow color.` ` ` `Suddenly like a bolt of lightning the smoke separated into two flew into me and into Darren. The force threw me onto my back. It seemed to hit Darren with the same force square in his chest but he remained standing. There was an odd sound and a slight rumbling and then the black symbol under his feet began to glow a bright yellow. The glow radiated through Darren’s feet up his legs and then radiated all over his body. “This is it” I thought. I thought Darren would be in pain but instead he began too smile and moan as if he were having an orgasm (I would know that face anywhere). ` ` ` `The light then faded. There was no change to him. He then came back to reality and a look of anger came to his face when his focus came back to me. I was screwed. The spell failed. I immediately felt like an idiot. ` ` ` `What the fuck are you doing faggot” Darren yelled at me as he began to walk towards me. He was no longer bound to his circle. “What the hell have you done to the room you are going to pay motherfucker.”` ` ` `I rose to my feet but then suddenly I was hit with an extreme pain that started in my gut then radiated across my whole body. I dropped to my knees moaning in pain. Darren saw my pain and laughed. “Serves your right you little shit. But you are about to feel the pain of my fists you little homo” He raised his arm to punch me as he approached me when all of a sudden I screamed as I had a sudden sensation something had exploded out from me. “What the fuck” Darren said in shock as he stared at me. I looked down at my hands and there was a soft glow all around them. Then I realized it was all over my body. An aura of light flowing softly all around me. The light began to grow brighter and brighter. It was coming from inside of me. Whatever it was I could feel it being pushed out from inside my own body. ` ` ` `“Dude, what the hell have you done,” Darren asked as he began to back up and the light brightened even more. All of a sudden a burst of light separated from the aura around me and hit Darren square in the chest. His whole body flashed. His eyes went wide and his whole body stiffened as he gasped. He stood there looking confused. Another burst of light then flew from me to him again this one longer. As it hit him he threw his head back and began to moan. Then another burst hit him and another. He was smiling again as if he was in the grips of an orgasm. ` ` ` `I did not feel so wonderful however. As each burst left me it felt as if I was being punched but from inside my body. I wanted to run but I couldn’t move. I fell to my knees in pain. What the hell was this light around me, why was it going to him and what happened when it absorbed into him?` ` ` `“That feels wonderful!” Darren exclaimed as he came back to reality. “More I want more!!” Three more bursts flew to him. “Fuuuuck” he screamed out in joy as I screamed out in pain. “uung” he bellowed as he gripped the front of his shirt and then ripped it open. He kept ripping all the way down. And then he flung the shirt off of him. His body was shaking. Not him, he was standing perfectly still. But it was as if his muscles were vibrating. He was watching in disbelief. “ ` ` ` `“Please” I begged you are scaring me. “and it hurts”` ` ` `“I don’t care fucker” he snarled at me. “It makes ME feel good and I need more. Besides I didn’t do this, you did. So I’m just taking what you have freely offered. Now more faggot.” He had an angry tone in his voice. “I SAID MORE” ` ` ` `Suddenly he threw his chest forward. As he did this I could feel the light around me reacting as if some force were pulling at it. It was Darren. Before the light was flowing to him by its own accord. But know it was as if he was pulling it to him. As if there was an invisible force between his chest and it. I screamed out in agony as all of a sudden the light exploded and began to rush towards him. It was absorbing into his chest. Darren threw his head back and screamed loudly. There was so much light it seemed endless. He then brings his hands to his chest and then rubs them down to his stomach. As he does this his hands are glowing and streams of it follow them from his chest and absorb into where he touches. It is as if he is grabbing the light somehow. He then brings his hands back to his chest and pulls some light over his biceps and then down his arms. He looks as if he were cleaning himself in the shower. He is literally bathing himself in energy. He then bring his hands back to his chest and then up to his face. When he takes them away I can see light flowing into his mouth and eyes. His eyes momentarily hold an eerie glow. As they fade back to normal I can see he is looking at me dead in the eye. ` ` ` `“What is he thinking” I wonder. He can tell I’m in pain maybe he will stop. But then all of a sudden he says “You haven’t even begun to feel pain yet” as he brings his arms up into a double bicep pose and flexes every muscle in his body. I don’t know how but the force of the light becomes stronger. The light that is absorbing into his chest begins to radiate out to cover his whole body. ` ` ` `His muscles begin to flex over and over. Then all of a sudden something very scary begins to happen. I notice it first on his bicep. It seemed to flex and then from its flexed state it seemed to flex again. Then all of a sudden his shoulders begin to broaden. Darren notices too. “I’m growing. Holy shit my muscles are growing. I can feel the power feeding them. Yes more feed me more faggot.” As I look at his hamstrings it is obvious he is becoming aroused as his cock begins to tent in his shorts. As his body begins to broaden the only thing that is getting smaller is his waist I watch as his already six pack begins to tighten and form into an eight pack. ` ` ` `“Yes Yes.” he says excitedly. There is such an enthusiasm in his voice. I wondered what he could be thinking of and what sensations he was feeling. Whatever he was thinking I was obviously the last thing in his mind. He seemed not to care what was happening to me. I was in so much pain at this point I was crying. At first it was like a hot hot fire within me but then it as more light left me I began to feel cold inside. As it continued my body began to feel exhausted. Whatever was making him stronger was definitely weakening me and the light around me began to dim more and more. What would happen if he took it all? Would I die?` ` ` `Darren was a sight to see. His legs were spread wide his chest jutting forward still pulling at me his arms were outstretched at his sides. His head was slightly tilted back. His whole body was glowing in light waiting to be absorbed into him. It was swirling all over his body, flowing into his mouth. He muscles still growing larger on his 5’9 frame. He just kept moaning. He appeared to be in a state of total ecstasy. I wondered what in the world could be going through his head. His thoughts were obviously focused on himself. ` ` ` `Suddenly the light around me began to fade even more and the stream to become intermittent. He threw his chest forward more and it strengthened back for a second but then stopped. I fell to the floor. I felt so tired and sore. I couldn’t even pick myself up. I was still alive though. There was still an ever slight aura around me. Maybe there was so little left he couldn’t maintain the stream.` ` ` `My eyes were focused on Darren as the last of the energy absorbed into his skin. His body had grown quite a bit. He wasn’t body builder huge though but he was large. His body had put on maybe 25 pounds of muscle but he looked very bulky for his height. Suddenly Darren looked at me as if he had just remembered I was in the room. His eyes had a dazed look to them as if he buzzed. Then he began to run his hands all over his new body admiring his engorged muscles. He looked down at his body as he flexed into a most muscular pose. Then he held one arm to his side and stared at his bicep as he flexed it over and over. ` ` ` `Then while still flexing his arm he looked at me coldly. “Look at me” he sneered at me. “LOOK AT ME” he then screams and then pulls his other arm into a double bicep pose. He was imposing. Of course it was a very unreal and I still had no idea what exactly happened. It was also a scary thought that someone who already treated me like shit had gained so much power. He could do so much more to me now.` ` ` `“This is incredible” he said. Still admiring his new physique he was in total awe as if he thought it was a dream. “But how. I mean once it started it was like instinct kicked in and I knew what to do. But what the fuck did you.” I was still in shock and was only able to stutter. Darren then began to look at the symbols around the room, the herb bowl on the floor and then noticed the spell book still open on the counter. “Magic?” he said in disbelief. “You cast a spell?” I could tell something didn’t feel write to him. “But I make it a point to make your life a living hell. Why would you make me more superior to you then I already was?” He then walked over and stared at the book. I could see the realization in his eyes when he read the title “To weaken an enemy.” ` ` ` `“You little shit.” He said looking at me. “You were tying to hurt me” He then put his attention back at the book. Then he began to laugh evilly. “But you messed it up didn’t you. Tell me exactly what you did.”` ` ` `‘Darren…” I began to say. But then he walked over to me and grabbed me by the hair. ` ` ` `“Let’s get one thing straight fag slave.” He said coldly. “You don’t have the fucking right to use my name. You will show me the respect I deserve and address me as Master. Am I clear?”` ` ` `“Yes master” I said timidly.` ` ` `“Now tell me what you did.” He said “Every detail.”` ` ` `So weakly I proceeded to tell him every detail of the ritual. He began to laugh hysterically when it was done. “You fucktard” he bellowed. “Did you really improvising would work? You made so many mistakes it hard to keep track of. You can’t just go around changing ingredients. And that symbol I stepped on. Where did you get that” I pointed out the sideward 8 drawn on the page. “I’m sure that was a huge mistake cuntrag. Didn’t you ever pay attention in math? That is the sign for infinity. That was probably the last symbol you wanted me on.” He began to laugh again. ` ` ` `I felt awful. I mean I figured if I messed it up that just nothing would happen. What a cruel trick that it would do the exact opposite of my intentions.` ` ` `“I guess destiny is on my side.” He said proudly. “I can’t wait to try out my new body.” Then he looked down at me. “But I don’t think we are quite done.” I realized that I still had some aura around by body. ` ` ` `“Please no” I begged. “I already feel so weak. ` ` ` `“Of course you do.” He said “I just drained you of most of you life force.” ` ` ` `“What” I exclaimed` ` ` `“What the fuck do you think that was faggot? I could feel it as it coursed into my body. It was your life energy why do you think you are so weak. I can still feel you inside me.”` ` ` `“But I could die” I began to cry.` ` ` `He stared at me for a moment. “Not my problem. You have already offered it up to me and now it is mine to take. I want it all! You have no idea what you have done fagslave.` ` ` `He then reached down and picked me up by the hair bringing me to my feet. He places one of his meaty hands around my neck. “Why the hell would you think for one second I care about you? This isn’t about you, you disgusting piece of shit. You are nothing more than scum to me. This is about ME about what I want. And right now I want to feel your energy inside me. Making me grow”` ` ` `I then felt a wave of heat at my neck and then a coldness filling my body. Light flowed into his hand and up his arm began to course all over his body like electricity. He moaned as he brought his free arm up and flexed his biceps. I again watched as the flexed and inflated. He was looking at me directly in the eyes. His were full of lust and intoxication. “Yes faggot watch me grow before you eyes.” His body began to pulse in light. I was getting very dizzy and the room darker. ` ` ` `He began to groan loudly “So much.. ugh so much energy I can feel it trying to cram into every cell of my body. Then something strange happened. I felt increased pressure at my neck and then my feet began to rise of the ground slightly but his arm was staying perfectly still. It wasn’t just his muscles that were growing it was his whole body. He was actually growing taller. “YES” he screamed in excitement. “This is really happening. Make me grow you little bitch. So amazing. I feel so amazing.` ` ` ` ` `The energy in me began to deplete and his growth slowed. He began to shake me. He wanted every last bit of energy I had. As he shook I could see small dots of light flow to him. I was hanging on by a mere thread and could feel one last bit within me. He pulled my face his then he screamed. “You belong to me now.” And still holding me by the neck he threw his arms straight to his sides, threw his chest forward and his head back and flexed every muscle in his body. The very last of my energy flowed into him and he glowed brightly and screamed louder than I have ever heard. ` ` ` `When it was over he threw me in disgust to the ground before him.` ` ` `“Kneel” he commanded.` ` ` `I have no idea but I rose to my knees before him. His muscles had grown even larger but he had also grown a few inches as well to about six feet. It made his muscles seem more proportionate to his taller and wider frame. There was something else different about him but I didn’t know what.` ` ` `I had no idea how but I was. He had drained all of the life energy I had. I could feel it. I felt empty inside. All I could focus on was him standing proudly before me. I was his. I don’t know and couldn’t explain the feeling within me but somehow I knew that I was now his property.` ` ` `“Do you have enough materials so prepare the spell again slave? He asked me with no emotion in his voice.` ` ` `“Yes Master” I said meekly` ` ` `“Good.” He said “I’m not done growing.`

Hi everyone, As many of you know, I'm one of Michael Fitt's biggest fans. This week is his site's sixth anniversary. I've been a member since day one. To celebrate, I've written another story with Mike as a super-hero. Enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- While the life of a super-hero certainly has its excitement, Super-Fitt, in his everyday identity of Michael Fitt, was planning something very exciting: His site's anniversary. He had shot videos. He had written blog posts. He had prepared for cam shows. It was ready to roll. He had been so preoccupied that he had not been using any of his super-senses. When he turned on the TV, he got a terrible shock. Dr. Malgenie, a renegade scientist, had sent the following announcement to the media: No one should be allowed to have the kind of power the man who calls him Super-Fitt seems to possess. How do we know he is not planning on global domination? I hereby demand that he surrender himself to me immediately or else I will destroy all he holds dear. What was this crazy person saying? As Super-Fitt, he had been as open as he reasonably could about his willingness to use his incredible powers for the good of all. The news report was interrupted with a report that there were three bizarre situations happening simultaneously in three U.S. cities: A giant robot was attacking Miami, a mysterious cloud of poisonous gas was approaching Denver, and a missile was approaching Houston. Super-Fitt realized that, as the homes of three of his most loyal VIPs, these were cities he had spent a fair amount of time defending. There was no time to spare, so, as his Super-Fitt costume appeared on his body, our hero bounced his Super-Pecs, thus triplicating himself. Each of his selves teleported to the appropriate city. In Miami, Super-Fitt I found himself facing a forty-foot-tall robot that looked like a refugee from a low-budget sixties horror film. “Not that big, really,” he thought, but he knew he could handle it without a problem at his normal size. The robot took a swipe at Super-Fitt with its hand. SF grabbed the hand and, with his super-strength, pulled it off and, crumpled the human-sized hand into a ball as if it were aluminum foil. Sparks flew from the robot’s arm. It attempted to stomp SF who simply stood firm on the ground as the robot's leg shattered into pieces against SF's indestructible body. “Time to bring this to and end,” Super-Fitt quipped as he grabbed the robot's toppling form and lifted it over his head. Flying into the stratosphere, he took the metal monster into his right hand and hurled it toward the sun. Within two minutes, the robot was incinerated. Meanwhile, in Denver, Super-Fitt II flew over the outskirts of the city and saw a weird pink cloud floating. Knowing that it would be fatal to humans who inhaled it but harmless to him, Super-Fitt decided to beat them to it. He began drawing the cloud into his mouth with his super-breath. Within a minute, the whole huge cloud was within his super-body. Super-Fitt hovered over the city, closed his eyes and concentrated. He then released the gas through his mouth, having transmuted it to pure oxygen. In Houston, Super-Fitt III faced a somewhat different challenge. The missile headed for the city was coming from outer space. He had to lead it away from its target without touching it, lest it be set off. He changed his body into a super-electro-magnet and flew up to intercept the missile. Attracted to SF's magnetism, it followed him away from the ground and back up into space. De-magnetizing his body as the missile left the atmosphere, the weapon headed off into the void where it would do no harm. As he consolidated himself back into one super-body, Super-Fitt used his telescopic vision to follow the trajectory the missile had taken to Earth. It apparently had originated on the planet Mars. SF's super-hearing then detected a message sent from Dr. Malgenie: Surrender yourself to me, Super-Fitt! Transporting himself to the Red Planet, Super-Fitt found a structure he guessed to be Dr. Malgenie's lair. Appearing before the mad scientist, SF grinned and said “Here I am!” “Ah, Super-Fitt! I knew you would see reason.” “Reason? I'm not surrendering. I'm here to return you to Earth.” “Don't bother. It won't be there much longer.” “What do you mean?” “My blaster weapon beam will obliterate the whole planet within a few minutes. I will have my revenge on those idiots who laughed me out of academia. I had to get you off the Earth first. And even you can't save them now. It's impossible!” Smirking, Super-Fitt spoke in a voice that shook Dr. Malgenie's whole building: “For me, nothing is impossible!” In the next instant, SF teleported himself into space, very near the Earth. The Earth had to be surrounded by something indestructible. Bouncing his Super-Pecs, Super-Fitt caused himself to grow and grow to a size he had never imagined before. He continued to grow until he was enormous enough to swallow the Earth. As it disappeared into SF's mouth, Dr. Malgenie's blaster weapon beam was harmlessly deflected from those amazing Super-Pecs. After returning the Earth to its place and returning to his usual size, Super-Fitt reappeared before Dr. Malgenie. “Care to try that again, Malgenie? No, don't bother!” With a bounce of the Super-Pecs, the blaster weapon beam generator was turned into a jack-in-the-box with Dr. Malgenie's face. “You dare?” Dr. Malgenie began. “I dare? You're the one who nearly destroyed three major cities and then the entire planet. Do you realize all the ways I could mess you up? I could crush your bones. I could turn into an ant and step on you. I could blow you into deep space. I could throw you through the wall and let the Martian atmosphere take care of you. But I'm going to return you to Earth and turn you in to the authorities.” “With my genius, I'll find a way to escape.” “Yeah, about that.” Super-Fitt put his finger to Dr. Malgenie's forehead while bouncing his Super-Pecs. Malgenie held his head on both sides. “What have you done to me?” “You now have average human intelligence. Congratulations, Mr. Evil Genius. You are now mediocre.” With that Super-Fitt returned his vanquished foe to Earth, where he would have a lot of explaining to do, if he still could. SF then returned home. He had an anniversary to celebrate.

The two giants turned and looked down at the three priests. "Bring your workers" and both grabbed simultaneously their huge rods, "and we do feats of strength and build mountains, as easy a woman grinds flour." The two priests stared at the monster muscle men before them. Hesitantly, one raised his hand, the other one bowed to User. "Take us - give us the power of the gods, too!" The two powerhouses looked at each other silently. Both priests now embraced the gigantic calves and were downright begging. Without comment, they suddenly grabbed the two priests and tore roughly the fine clothes off their bodies. The high priest dared a brief outcry when the huge cocks entered the two men and the two giants began fucking the priest violently. The cries of the two weaklings got deeper and rougher until they moaned voluptuously in the onset of transformation. With horror saw the high priest - lying in the corner of the room - as slowly but inevitably his colleagues transformed to muscle bulls, from underpowered, frail beings to muscled men who soon would be a match for the two fuckers. As User and Nakht came at least, the two priests were hurled with violence and force to the ground, were rolling over each other and saw with pride at their now powerful bodies, while User and Nakht without rest laid hands on themselves again and came shortly afterwards even more powerful. When responsive, the two new vessels of the gods power rose, her eyes shone as silver. User and Nakht laid a satified eye on their creatures. User turned his mighty head and looked at the larger of the two, whom he had fucked: "Min-em-heb" The called ex priest put a massive fist on his wide chest, which was as much as hairy as its creators chest and nodded, while the silver fire flowed from his eyes. "Min-in-feast" fit well, because the god Min was known for his huge prick he always stretched in the air - and Min-em-heb was well stocked and until now permanently hard. Nakht turned his massive head, so that the muscles stood out impressively, and muttered to his protege: "Sobekemsaf" Here, too, nodded the ex priest and flexed his biceps, then bowing humbly: "The crocodile god" - who had the mightiest and most powerful tail - "is at his side" - even that was suitable. So they got their new names. Their old names were given to oblivion. Then the wide guys put their paws on the broad shoulders of the former priests. Slowly, they pushed them down until their faces were at the height of their phalluses. Wordlessly, they began to suck their creators. Nakht and User laid an arm around each other's shoulders and enjoyed it, but without visible emotion. Only shortly before the climax they threw their heads into the bull's neck and roared briefly. Then they helped up the two ex priests with a firm handshake and knocked them appreciatively on the shoulders and covered their now flaccid genitals. User played with Min-em-heb’s dick, Nakht with the rod of Sobekemsaf until both had their powerful erections again. The four Musclebeasts had now the desire for a place something more intimate ...

Panting and moaning there was a huge bald guy by almost seven feet in front of the priests, shoulders wide as three men, a dark hairy chest, musclebound without end. His still stiff cock leaked further and the precum ran like a brook down the thick, veined shaft to the scrotum. He flexed his huge biceps and roared again. Barely human sounds, as Nakht thought, shivering. Then he just stood there, his mighty legs wide apart, let the impressive arms dangle to the floor and gasped. And growled in the direction of the priests who were now silent, probably amazed by the transformation, too. One of the three priests, the eldest one, finally approached this monster of a man and took a risk to have a direct look in his eyes. It seemed briefly as if the muscle monster would made - with one blow of his huge paw - a bloody stain out of this man. But he hold himself and bowed at last to the old priest. The priest approached and took another hold of Users testicles, which were much larger than before. "My choice was good, very good. In thee rages the force of Ra and Set... The priest then grabbed the thick shaft, but he could not even cover half of its circumference. User gasped loudly and the priest began slowly stroking the huge cock up further. "You like that, don’t you?" When he touched the bottom of the glans, a heavy flow of precum started to emante from Users dick, like a spring steadily and dripped down the monstrous hardon. The priest rubbed on and User’s stubbled face twitched and he growled quietly. "You will be the tool which I will make a name for myself before Pharaoh ..." whispered the priest and continue massaging the incredible cock, still further swelling and trembling. The frail fingers of the old man looked ridiculous on this gigantic penis. "And you will be the father of many of these muscled gods as many as we need, until we will be the masters of the world ..." Here already splashed the first heavy surge out of Users fat glans and the priest flinched. At that very moment, a heavy and seemingly neverending rattle and chinking from falling metalstandards ruined the moment. All heads flew around, just to see a shivering peasant, Nakht. The old priest took his smeared right hand off User’s enormous tool and turned to Nakht. User growled dangerously. The priest ignored it and smiled at Nakht. "What are you doing here?" "I'm his friend ... what have you done to User?" Without answering him, he turned to his fellow priests: "Well, then we will just start the second phase at the same time.” And with a melodramatic gesture of his still cumsoaked fingers, he bekoned the former peasant and screamed: “User, show him - the power of the gods! " User broke free from his rigid habitus and approached Nakht with a groan. Nakht tried to drew back and tried to appeal to User, but no understanding or recognizing spoke from the silvery glowing eyes of User. Finally, the hulking muscleman grabbed the panicked Nakht, and held him that he had no way to escape. "User, User! It’s me! Nakht! Stop it! User! " Users calloused fingers tore Nakht’s skirt in seconds to shreds. Nakht screamed and cried User’s name. When Nakht was naked, User held his trembling friend in front of his huge manhood that seemed to have grown even further. While this dramatic scenen one of the priests whispered to his colleague: "This is the solution to our problem. To transfer the godly force from the shrine to thousands of workers would be too time consuming. So we can use the power of the gods easily transmitted from man to man, by fucking each other ... " And that was the keyword: Users huge phallus rammed in the blink of an eye into Nakht and he cried out. User roared with him, a deep, booming, satisfied roar. Nakht believed to die, while the huge cock moved in and out. Soon after that Nakht was almost as numb as he was raped by this incredible monster. It was only when that musclebeast began to cum, he awoke again. At the beginning it was just bad. And then it was warm. Nakht felt his muscles – they began to grow as he itself grew bigger and wider. A feeling as if he was inflated and then filled with heavy sand, seized him and amazement him. Mesmerized he looked at his paws, which were swollen beyond belief. He touched his growing pecs and biceps, while User grunted over him. The growth was orgasmic. Each thought of revenge against the priests went out as soon as his will subdued to what was provided: absolute obedience to the men of the gods. They were the rulers of the force, they had to obey. As User pulled his huge cock finally out of him, Nakht was almost as massive and muscular as his buddy. Both rose up together and looked at each other from silvershining eyes. User laid his paw on the massive shoulder of Nakht and pressed vigorously. Then he winked. Following this, both turned to the priests.

II Nakht decided to watch the walled area more often. His kitchen duty gave him some free hours for that. The next day he slipped into a little gate. A dark passage led deep into the building, he tried in vain to find the location of the room of his friend. A large, dark room that hid a massive shrine of dark granite, taller than a man, was the next place, that Nakht entered trembling. The shrine glowed faintly. Was he on holy ground? Superstitious fear fell upon him. Suddenly a man stepped out from behind the shrine. It was User! User had changed further. He was now slightly larger, but mostly much wider and heavier than in the last meeting. His shoulders were massive and twice as wide as before, and his arms were so swollen that they were almost as thick as Nakht’s legs. But it was all muscle, all solid muscle. A thick vein stretched across the spherical biceps. Then suddenly Nakht remembered an incident he had experienced on the trip here to Giza. After they were forced by the henchmen of the Pharaoh to embark on the long journey, they passed the first night thereafter at the shore of river Nile for the night around a big campfire. Some peasents, a little further away seated from the warming fire, wore a blanket around their shoulders, but most wore only her usual skirt or were naked, because they washed their linen and dried them on a Palm or tree branch. As usual stories were told and beer was drunk. An old man told the history of an ancestor of the current ruler, of Menes, the unifier of the Empire. "He lived at a time when Egypt was divided in more countries than we have all toes," he began. "Everyone did what he thought was right. But then discovered King Menes a way that enabled him to change everything! " The men listened spellbound. "In the temple of Ra he was kneeling before a shrine containing the power of the gods. They saw a perfect tool for their will and he was recognized a favorite of the gods and so they gave him unimaginable power." The men were amazed. "When he left the temple, he was a man, as it had never existed before. His back was as wide as three men, he had swollen arms like granite and he was three heads higher than any other Egyptian. He was strong as a hippopotamus and potent as an elephant! The royal women got it painful to feel," laughed the old man. "What happened?" "How could this happen?" "Tell more!" The old man laughed and continued his story further - as the powerful king used his gigantic muscles to subdue all the small kingdoms one after another. One by one petty king he defeated everyone – and fucked many rulers after the battle with his massive manhood to death. He was the first king over all Egypt ... Nakht remembered that this story had excited many of the men - either sticking their dick directly into the cold night air or dented their loincloth. Also Users loincloth tented prominently and he sighed: "That would be rad – one must never let them be pushed around again ..." User was strongly built, but against the cudgel and whips of the overseers he was powerless. Nakht glanced at Users thick erection, then his buddy turned to the side. Nakht was not yet asleep, when he heard User jacking off powerful. Was this now this legendary shrine of the power of the gods? Dark and threatening it stood on the stone work, on the incised scenes he saw really powerful, broadshouldered gods who showed-off their powerful arms ... Then User brought Nakht with his dull look and groaning back to reality. First, User just stared fixedly at Nakht, then glowed knowledge in him. "Nakht ..." "User! What happened to you! " User now wore no loincloths and his extremely thick and heavy dick hung down almost to his knees. Nakht could hardly look away, so prominent he wore this thing before him. "I carry the power of the gods in me ... Nakht ... I am strong like Horus ..." Nakht shyly touched the hard muscles of Users arm. User flexed his biceps with pride. Suddenly Nakht felt his hand has been led by User downwards to this horsecock. "This is also very powerful ..." Nakht would flinch at first, but then he let his hand slide down to the big glans. But this part alone had become as thick as his fist. He pressed his fingers firmly to try and he heard User above him briefly groaning. As footsteps approached. User stepped back, even if it woke him from a beautiful dream and his dick was deflating quickly. "Quick, hide ... you can not be here ..." Nakht frantically sought a hiding place and found it behind a pillar, metal standards leaning nearby against it. Three priests entered the room shortly afterwards and looked with favor on the gigantic body of the former peasant. "Are you willing to get the gift of the gods?" "Today you will complete the final transformation. Then you will be a true servant of the gods, a vessel for their unimaginable energies. " "You'll be the willing tool of Pharaoh." "And the first of many!" User nodded dumbfounded and let himself be led by two small priests - who only came up to his shoulders - to the great stone shrine. With a few words and incantations the three priests circled the shrine, then they threw incense lumps on its polished surface and sang. The shrine began to glow and vibrate. Nakht saw the huge paws User pressed on the smooth stone and how User bowed his head. It looked as if he wanted to overthrow the shrine. Then a tremor went through him and his entire, already very muscular body began to pulsate and grow. Short lightning flashed across the pumped body of User, who thickened and swelled up. User stood now legs wide apart before the shrine and pressed himself against the massive structure. Nakht, watching him from directly behind saw how Users cock began to lift, until he could no longer see him. The priest mumbled holy words and had their arms raised. The two younger looked admiringly at the changing body and Nakht meant to notice their stiff cocks in their fine folded garments. Users powerful body now braced himself against the heavy, massive shrine, his arms swelled again, the pulsating biceps grew enormously in spurts, until they had grotesque sizes, the back was even wider and the whole body glistened with sweat. His solid cock was already fully extended and had the circumferences of Nakht’s forearm. Trembling, the incredible boner stretched in the air, his apple-sized testicles twitching. With a loud, long-drawn scream User raised his head suddenly. His eyes shone like the sun and a silver light flashed around his limbs, which grew out of every human proportion. The growth ebbed slowly, but then it happened: User really grabbed the top of the massive stone shrine now, and in one fluid motion he pumped it towards the ceiling and yelled and grunted horrible, it sounded like sex. And then his huge cock squirted in powerful spurts a load after another, directly into the centre of the shrine. With each splash the shrine emanated an energy cloud that enveloped User. His screaming dropped another octave and got ridiculously deep. It remembered the screams of a lion or something even more powerful. Nakht was frozen in shock. He wished himself out of this room, he was witnessing things a normal peasant shouldn’t be allowed to see. Soon Nakht saw nothing more than golden fog. He only heard the thin chant of the priests. Then the vision cleared again. With a mighty thud, the giant let the heavy shrine fall down to earth again and turned around. Nakht, hardly daring to breathe, didn’t dared to have a full look. Apparently his buddy had again gained more mass in the final seconds of his transformation.

Baring Bones: A Halloween Story - Chapter 4 (and Bestiary Notes) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 ------------------------- Can I just state, for the record, that this really wasn’t how I’d hoped I’d be spending the evening? Is it too much to ask that I go to a party, hang out with friends and coworkers, show off my costume, and maybe meet a hot guy who doesn’t turn into a huge brute possessed by the ghost of a puritan witch hunter who decides to murder me in a clearing full of the bones of monsters? Before my eyes, Gosser was transforming Kellan’s body with the life force of over a hundred party guests. The green light illuminated his muscles so that they gleamed slickly, and every so often, like cartoon electricity, it caused his skeleton to blaze visibly through his skin, looking dark and monstrous. His muscles pumped and burst and grew again, almost seeming to froth. His costume tore off his powerful new body, revealing his warped physique to the world and finally revealing that tattoo that had been teasing me all night: the words “To The Bone” written in interlaced gothic script, stretched from just beneath his right clavicle, dipped across the tops of his pillow-sized pecs, and ending beneath his left clavicle. For some reason, even when the eldritch fire revealed his skeleton, the words stayed there, hovering grimly in front of his uppermost ribs and sternum, only to re-attach themselves to the skin when it re-appeared the next moment. His pants also burst, the black fabric charring in the green energy as a naked and increasingly erect, thick cock spilled out, stretching over a foot long! His balls also bulged, dangling heavily beneath his erection, but while Kellan had been a stunning and enticing figure of a man, Gosser’s possession only made his endowment seem threatening and repulsive. In body shape, his physique resembled some cross between a bodybuilder on the cover of FLEX magazines and the oversized physique of comic book ‘tanks’: enormous muscles, but gleaming with sweat and ectoplasm, and sharply defined, with noticeable veins and heavy striation. My enhanced vision noticed that the red lights had been flashing back at the manor, but now they’d gone dark, and as they died, so did most of the emerald flames around Gosser/Kellan, now standing over eight feet tall and looking down on me with a sickening grin that occasionally flashed the horrible rictus of Kellan’s bare skull. Horribly, Gosser took his massive hands, every inch of tightly-packed muscle in his huge arms flexing as he did so, and began to slide them over his new form, caressing and stroking his stolen skin in a blasphemous form of self-worship. “AT LAST,” he moaned, as he continued to feel his own horrific muscles. “LET ME SHARE SOME LAST WISDOM BEFORE YOU TAKE MY PLACE IN THE GRAVE, YOU UNCLEAN THING,” he snarled at me in that creepy dual voice. “WHEN I WAS ALIVE, I SPENT MY LIFE PROTECTING THE PITIFUL HUMAN RACE FROM ITS OWN DARKNESS… THE PURSUIT OF CORRUPT MAGIC, THE WORSHIP OF FOUL ENTITIES, THE REANIMATION OF DEAD TISSUE, THE BEASTS AND MONSTERS THAT LIVE IN MAN’S SHADOW… BUT IT WAS ALL FOR NAUGHT. AS THE YEARS PASSED, FEWER AND FEWER ALLIES JOINED MY SIDE, AND THOSE THAT REMAINED BECAME AS GRAY-HAIRED AND WRINKLED AS I. MEANWHILE, THOSE QUAKERS PLAYED THEIR LITTLE WELCOMING GAMES, PUSHING FOR ACCEPTANCE OF ALL NEWCOMERS, NEVERMIND THEIR ORIGINS AND POTENTIAL THREAT. I WAS RIDICULED, AND MY TRAINING CAMP SHUT DOWN, ONLY TO BE TAKEN OVER BY BRAINLESS BIBLE STUDIES AND WHINING CHILDREN! FINALLY, A DESCENDANT OF MY USELESS YOUNGER BROTHER BOUGHT THE PROPERTY AND BUILT HIS HOME ON IT, BUT HE AND HIS DESCENDANTS WERE ONLY INTERESTED IN MAKING MONEY, AND LACKED TRUE FAITH AND TRUE DISCIPLINE. FORTUNATELY, I HAD ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY. I TURNED TO MY NOTES ON THE VARIOUS WITCHES AND SORCERERS OF WHICH I RID THE WORLD, AND FOUND DETAILS ON AN INTRICATE SPELL THAT WOULD ENABLE ME TO LIVE AGAIN… AND THIS TIME, INSTEAD OF BEING A VIRGIN DEFENDER OF THE FAITHFUL, HOLDING MYSELF PURE, I WOULD REVEL IN ALL THE PLEASURES AND POWER I HAD DENIED MY BODY IN LIFE. AS LONG AS ONE OF MY GODLESS RELATIVES CONTINUED TO LIVE, I COULD USE THEM AS A HOST AS LONG AS THEY HADN’T LET THEIR BODY GO TO SEED. HOWEVER, IN ORDER TO REMAKE EVEN A HEALTHY BODY TO MY IDEAL, I WOULD NEED THE LIFE FORCE OF AT LEAST 250 ADULTS. YOUTH IS WASTED ON THE YOUNG, AND I SHALL TREASURE WHAT THEY WERE THROWING AWAY. EVEN WITH A LARGE NUMBER OF PEOPLE HERE, I NEEDED SOME WAY OF HARVESTING THAT ENERGY AND CONVERTING IT INTO ECTOPLASM TO FUEL THE BODY. SO I ARRANGED FOR SPOTS THAT WOULD DRAW A NUMBER OF PEOPLE AT THIS PAGAN CELEBRATION TO BECOME SINKS OF VITALITY: THE WOODS WHERE THEY WOULD DRIVE BY IN THEIR HAY-FILLED CONVEYANCE, THE BONFIRE WHERE THEY WOULD TRY TO DRIVE BACK THE NIGHT’S CHILL, THE DANCE FLOOR WHERE THEY’D CAVORT SHAMELESSLY, THE BAR WHERE THEY DOWNED THEIR DEVIL BREWS, THE PLACE WHERE THEY DEFECATED, AND THE CHAPEL… WHERE MY MORTAL REMAINS WERE SAFELY INTERRED, BENEATH THE STONE FLOOR BEHIND THE ALTAR, FROM WHICH I COULD BEGIN THE RITUAL TO FILL MY HOST WITH THE ECTOPLASM TO REMAKE HIM AS THE MAN I SHOULD HAVE BEEN! FINALLY, WITH THE DOORS BETWEEN WORLDS STILL OPEN FROM ALL HALLOW’S EVE, I WAS ABLE TO ENACT MY PLANS!” While Gosser monologued, absorbed in feeling up his stolen body, I’d been surreptitiously flipping through the journal, hoping that I could find the details about the spell and some way to break it. Knowing where his body was hidden was great, but I couldn’t escape him now, much less get all the way across the property to the chapel and break through the concrete floor, and then concentrate on the music of the Choir enough to summon the Helpful One and send Gosser to the Great Beyond. I’d managed to find rules for how to trick Kappas into bowing and spilling the water from their heads, how to protect yourself from native American curses, and how to wear clothes inside-out to confuse fairies (and most normal people, I’d suspect), as well as a spell to raise the dead to fight on your side against their killer (which would’ve been nice, but I didn’t have “The Bloode of the Innocent,” “The Bloode of a Dragon,”or “The Bloode of Godde’s Servants”… though there was certainly enough “Ectoplasme” around Gosser/Kellan). None of them seemed likely to work. Then the book fluttered from my hands and floated into Gosser’s waiting hand! I realized belatedly that even in a body, he’d retained ghostly powers like poltergeist activity! “THEN, HOWEVER, SOMETHING INTERFERED WITH MY PLANS. I COULDN’T SENSE ANYONE, COULDN’T DETECT ANY FOREIGN MAGIC, COULDN’T EVEN SEE A PERSON I KNEW HAD TO BE THERE, EVERY TIME I TRIED TO CONVERT THIS WHELP INTO MY HOST! I CAME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT ONLY A CREATURE NOT INTENDED AS PART OF GOD’S PLAN FOR THE WORLD COULD SO EVADE MORTAL MAGICAL AND SPIRITUAL SENSES… WHAT IS YOUR NAME, HELLSPAWN?” I found myself suddenly forced to speak, as if the words were being drawn out of me. “Angelo Chiaro Alinero,” I stammered, revealing my full name to monster. I wondered if knowing my name would give him further power over me, but if he could force me to talk, I’m not sure there’s much he couldn’t do already. However, as soon as I spoke my surname, he smiled with wicked satisfaction, and the book levitated in front of my face, the pages turning of their own accord. A flicker of green ectoplasmic flame illuminated a particular passage, listing the family names descended from the Grigori Armaros, “Who Taughte Men The Resolving of Enchantments”. At the bottom of the list was a name, underlined in green: Alinero. “YOU ARE A NEPHILIM, THE DESCENDANT OF A UNION BETWEEN THE SONS OF HEAVEN AND THE DAUGHTERS OF EARTH. YOU ARE SO WICKED THAT GOD HIMSELF SENT THE FLOOD TO WIPE OUT YOUR KIND. AND LOOK… HE DOES SO AGAIN!” Waving his powerfully-muscled, green-glowing arm at the sky, I saw that the full moon had been replaced by storm clouds, and dimly remembered the weather man talking about a hurricane making its way up the coast. With a howling laugh, Gosser continued. “FORTUNATELY FOR YOU, I SHALL TAKE CARE OF YOU, SO YOU NEED NOT FEAR DROWNING LIKE SOME OF YOUR ANCESTORS… YOUR DEATH SHALL BE QUICK, AND AFTER THAT, YOU SOULLESS THING, THERE WILL BE NO PARADISE FOR YOU, JUST EMPTY ETERNITY!” With that, I felt my body lift from the ground and float towards his grasp. I tried to struggle, but I couldn’t move a muscle. I felt his hands wrap around my torso, and waited for the pull, when a woman’s voice echoed through the clearing, and Gosser froze in shock. “So… it looks like someone has some pretty dramatic plans. And it looks like you’ve already killed some of my descendants, Quincy Gosser. I would rather you not harm another.” Tossing me to the bone-strewed ground, giving me a number of bruises and small cuts, Gosser turned to face an exotic older woman, dressed as Marilyn Monroe, and holding Claudia’s empty husk. “YOU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? AND YOUR DESCENDANT… HE IS SPAWN OF THE GRIGORI, NOT YOUR DEBASED BROOD, WITCH!” ‘Marilyn’ smiled condescendingly at him and wiggled her finger teasingly. “Now now, Quincy, do remember that Armaros hasn’t been seen since the Flood. That’s plenty of time for his descendants to mate with mine, as well as many, many, many other people. Time DOES fly, after all.” Gosser curled his fingers into fists. “I WILL DESTROY YOU BOTH, THEN!” ‘Marilyn’ laughed, a rich, throaty chuckle that almost sounded like a purr. “Oh, that was a good one, darling! You just slaughtered about 280 people in Halloween costumes, just so that you could pose in a speedo and live out the boyish daydreams you never actually indulged in life. You haven’t the vision, the wisdom, or, frankly, the balls, to face me.” She then winked at me. “Unfortunately, I am unable to actually interfere with someone of fully-human descent without provocation, and though you have descended further than most, you still… barely… qualify, Quincy. However, I am allowed to tip the scales in favor of my family.” She pulled a long, thin dagger from somewhere in her billowing skirts, held up Claudia’s gray finger and pricked it, then shouted, “YOUR LEFT POCKET, ANGELO,” before vanishing in a puff of smoke. I found myself able to move and reached into my pocket as commanded, pulling out a small vial labeled “Dragon Blood.” Before Gosser could stop me, I threw it to the ground, enjoying the satisfying sound of the glass shattering and wiping my own blood from my arms as I repeated the small, nonsense chant from the journal. My voice seemed to echo in the clearing, becoming more pure and powerful as the bones began to rise, cloak themselves in blood-red skin and muscle and assemble themselves as a collection of monsters, who immediately turned against Gosser with a vengeance. I saw harpies, trolls, ettins, lamiae, satyrs, and more wade into combat with the enormous hunk, whose green fire charred their reformed flesh, and whose punches and kicks sent them flying. The monsters were relentless, but Kellan’s body and Gosser’s powers together were unstoppable. As more and more of the monsters started to fall and turn to dust, one of them, a hugely-muscled creature with the horns of both a ram and a bull, lifted me up and said, in a voice that sounded like the ruined throat it used to speak, “Thhhhank yooou, brotherrrr. Weeee wellllcommme vennnnggeannnnce agggainnnsssst ourrrr killllllerrrr. Gooo annnnd ennnnd hiimmmm forrrr usss!” With that, the creature threw me high into the air, well over the tree line, back towards the fields. As the storm rumbled around my hurtling body and the rushing wind pulled tears from my eyes, I felt resigned to crashing into the earth and dying, when the costume wings on my back suddenly unfolded, fanning out behind me. The plastic and fabric warped as my body seemed to catch fire, blazing white like a shooting star. As swiftly as they’d begun, the flames went out, and I found that I wasn’t cold, the wind now seemed to caress me instead of blowing at me… and that I was no longer wearing the wings…. they’d become real, and fused with my back. I remembered The Helpful One giving them to me and realized this had been its plan all along! What’s more, I felt powerful… running my hands down my body, I realized that my shirt had burned away, and I now possessed the sculpted powerful body of an Olympic athlete, with curly hair-covered gymnast-like chest muscles to power my new wings, which were clawed at the top like a bat’s but covered in ravenlike feathers that shaded from black to blue, purple, green and red at the tips, with an iridescent oily sheen. I flexed my chest and found that doing so caused my wings to beat, sending me soaring upward! With a cry of exultation to answer the thunder of the storm, I beat my wings, feeling my body pump as I sped towards the Manor. As it came into view, I realized that there was no motion. Gray husks from the party guests littered the grounds, and I remembered that I was now the only living person on the grounds (though I technically was over the grounds at the moment) unless you counted Gosser in Kellan’s body. Far behind me I heard a terrible roar of fury as the sounds of the fight between the dead monsters and the tremendous Gosser continued. They wouldn’t be able to buy me time for much longer, though, and I still had to break through the stone in the chapel to reach Gosser’s real body. My wings fanned out, pulling me up before gently dropping me to the ground and folding up against my back. Then I felt a chill at my back. I whirled around, fanning my wings out aggressively to make myself look bigger, and stared at the sight in front of me. A hazy, transparent version of Claudia, still dressed in her costume, hovered behind me, looking nervous. She parted her lips, and a voice like the whisper of a fall breeze said, “I’m sorry… he took me over and used me while I was asleep. He thought he could get close to Kellan through me. And he did… but you brought me back once, and the lady using my blood for that spell snapped me out of the shock of having my life taken from me. I think she wanted me to help somehow, but what can I do?” I shook myself. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry… I’ve got a crush on your boyfriend, and if I’d been focusing on actually solving this mess instead of how tight his costume was, maybe we’d have been able to keep you alive.” Claudia’s shade moved closer, but her face had a rueful smile. “I’m not entirely comfortable with you and Kellan, together, but he still cared for me… at least before that monster too him over. And I have to say, you look pretty amazing now,” she continued, giving my new musculature a once-over. “If you can somehow manage to save all of us, I think I’d be up to try sharing Kellan.” Before I could respond, behind Claudia (or through her, actually), I saw a sudden burst of green flames exploding from the woods. “That’ll be the end of the reanimated monsters,” I groaned. “He’s coming. We need to get into the Chapel, and we need to get his body from underneath the altar. Maybe we can do it together, or between the two of us, we can get inside Kellan’s head and break him free. Let’s go!” Her face lighting up (literally glowing) at the thought of defeating Gosser and rescuing Kellan, Claudia drifted through me and inside the doors of the Manor. I opened them and followed her, only to be slowed down when I realized that my head was scraping the top of the door! I’d grown in height as well as musculature, and I remembered the stories of the Nephilim had described them as giants. Ducking carefully, I entered the main drinking room, which was eerily silent with no one talking and the dj’s music turned off, and found Claudia’s path blocked by a bunch of ghosts dressed in old-fashioned attire. One of them, a skinny, bearded man, moved forward and said, “We are the soldiers of God and the slayers of monsters. Our brother, Quincy Gosser, has called us back to stop you, Abomination… and you shall be stopped!” Immediately, torches, pitchforks, and other makeshift weapons formed in their hands and they menacingly waved them at me. Claudia ducked through me to avoid getting stabbed by a spectral musket blade, but I’d had enough. “Your time is long gone, and your crusade, while noble, was misguided and callous. Your current goal is foolish and in defiance of both natural and supernatural laws, and I have seen far more frightening things tonight than a group of colonial spooks. What’s more, I’ve BECOME a more frightening thing than all of you. I am alive, and this is my world… your world passed away with you, and you are not welcome here. BEGONE!” To emphasize my argument, I flexed my ripped chest, and my wings unfolded behind me, causing a draft of wind that knocked over more than a few bottles of cheap alcohol and spilled dozens of plastic cups on the lifeless party guests. I stared them down, my eyes never leaving the ghost’s, and my rage at their idiotic temerity caused white flames to lick my skin and dance among my hair and feathers. The ghosts quailed before the sight, and though some looked indignant, they all faded away. The flames died, and I folded my wings behind me, and took off at a run towards the chapel doors. I pushed them open with a cacophonous BANG that echoed through the chapel, and Claudia and I raced to the Altar, only to stare at the unmarked floor. Without being asked, Claudia did a swan dive into the floor, passing through the concrete, only to emerge a moment later, as if rising from a pool. “There is an old, worn coffin with a body down there… about six feet under… but I can’t turn it ghostly and bring it up with me or anything! What do we do? Kellan will be here any moment!” “I’ll have to break through it,” I said, hoping I wasn’t making a big mistake. However, the power of my muscles, and the warmth of the white flames filled me. I focused on Kellan’s kiss, on his attitude, the way he was protective of me, how he insisted I never risk my life again, and all the other moments we’d shared that evening… and the thought that Quincy Gosser, all-around useless member of society, had used Kellan as if he didn’t matter at all filled me with a terrible wrath. With a furious battle cry, I leaned over and slammed my fist into the concrete. I didn’t feel anything when my knuckles connected with the cold stone… but cracks began to form as it crumbled, revealing another layer beneath it. Again and again and again I punched, sifting aside rubble until I reached soil and began digging with my bare hands until they reached wood. “ARTEMIS,” cried Claudia, almost in my ear, and biting back a curse both at the lack of time and Claudia’s inability to remember my name, I looked up to see the glowing, monstrous, skeletal form of Gosser striding into the Chapel. He saw what I was doing, and with a wave of his hand, sent a blast of telekinetic force at me… it knocked the altar backwards, and only a quick beat of my wings sent me upward, dodging it just in time, and giving me the chance to form a blade of white flames. I descended on Gosser like a stooping falcon, and crashed into his billowing chest. Green flames coiled against white ones. My own enhanced physique and fiercely buffeting wings countered Kellan’s much greater musculature. But I had trouble dealing with his poltergeist powers, and once, when I was about to land a punch, he phased through it, becoming insubstantial for a moment, only to solidify enough to take a swing at me! If I was caught up in fighting Gosser/Kellan, I couldn’t get back to the body and call the Helpful One. “I’ve got this,” murmured Claudia in her whispery voice, and I felt her melt into my body instead of passing through it. My white flames blazed around us and I suddenly felt everything slow down… except me. Winding back, I landed a perfect punch straight at Kellan’s “To the Bone” tattoo and, filled with Claudia’s spirit, Gosser couldn’t phase away. I felt Claudia speak through my lips: “Get. Out. Of. My. BOYFRIEND!” As soon as my fist connected, I suddenly found myself, no longer a warrior angel, but my normal body, wearing costume wings, floating beside Claudia in a vast room filled with green mist. Hovering in the center of the room was a naked, skinny Kellan, looking very much like he had when we first met. He looked up at us and his eyes widened in shock. “Did… did he kill you both? I felt him take me over, but I can’t remember anything else. I’m so sorry! I thought I could protect you both, but those muscles were useless! And now I’m stuck like this forever and you guys are gone!” “Um, baby,” Claudia interrupted as Kellan began to tear up, “I don’t feel any different besides being here. I think we’re no more dead than before. We’re in your mind or soul or something. I think that if we can clear out this mist, you can fight back against that creep. And we need you to fight back… otherwise, even Armand here won’t be able to handle him.” I forced myself not to rise to the bait… no one could be that hopelessly awful at names, could she? “She’s right, Kellan. I might be able to take him on, but I can’t fight you… especially if there’s a chance we can get you back. And a really powerful witch and a… an archangel seem to think there’s still that chance. So come on… it’s time to use your muscles and show Gosser that he’s got no clue what he’s meddling with.” I reached out my hand to him, and Claudia did the same. When Kellan tentatively wrapped his agile, musician’s fingers around ours, the three of us began to glow, and the mist turned white and faded away… and then a blinding flash of light filled the room. When my eyes cleared, I found that I was in my angelic form, again, and Kellan was still roiling with Gosser’s energies… but he seemed paralyzed. Claudia’s wraithlike form appeared swirling around them, and she shouted, “We’ve got him! Go!” I turned and sprinted for the unearthed grave, but with each step I began to hum, then actually sing, making up the words. At first it was just my normal baritone, but then I started hitting notes that were well beyond my range, both extremely low and shockingly high. Then I started singing in multiple voices at once! Then some of them were singing different songs in different languages, the words and pauses, the breaths and echoes intertwining. I felt like my chest was swelling, the muscles in my throat vibrated as impossible harmonies poured from my lips. After I worked my fingers into the wood of the coffin and lifted it off with a flex of my muscular arms, I ripped the lid off and revealed the dried bones resting awkwardly inside. I distantly heard Gosser scream in despair and frustration, but those pitiful wails were drowned out as the many voices coming from me were joined by countless other voices… including one that was much deeper and richer than the others. The many separate songs blended together into one, and in a language that sounded more like birdcalls than human speech. I placed my hands on the sternum and the skull, and ended the song with a single word that I intuitively knew meant “Return/Release/Undo/Let Go.” Whatever that language was, speaking it involved more than just saying a word. As I was speaking it felt like a tremendous pressure weighed me down. Some measure of myself went into the song, and I felt like screaming… but I had no more breath to speak after the word left me. I felt the feathers and skin shed themselves from my wings, and the accompanying pain felt worse then when I had my wisdom teeth removed, when I fell off a slide and broke my arm, and when I got sun poisoning combined. I gasped for air, feeling weak and helpless, as my muscles shrank… but not all the way back to normal. I could tell I was still and inch or two taller than I had been, and my muscles retained some of their lithe definition… and a fraction of their strength. My vision felt darker and my hearing felt muffled, as both senses adjusted to the loss of supernatural power, but I could still see a glow and still could hear the Chorus. For all that I was losing, though, I could see that Gosser was similarly afflicted. Kellan’s body broke free of Claudia’s grip, but didn’t do anything except widen his stance, pull his fists back, and then begin punching the air. Seeing an 8’2” guy with rippling muscles shadowboxing was pretty impressive, but as he continued to do it, I realized that there was something odd about his sweat. I pulled myself out of the deep hole in the chapel floor, feeling like all of my muscles were screaming in agony, and shakily made my way towards him, in time to see that his sweat was a rusty red, blood-like shade, and that it seemed to cling to his muscles. However, his skeleton was permanently concealed beneath his skin, which started to look less green and more healthy, though still fair. Gradually his features became less monstrous and twisted, and more determined and handsome. The red ooze formed into a ball, then an actual humanoid figure, rolling back each time Kellan punched, and I realized that he was deliberately sweating Gosser out of his system! I watched as more of his naked body rid itself of the ghost’s corruption. Gosser seemed powerless to fight back, as if my song, touch and word had paralyzed him. Finally, Kellan’s body was coated with nothing but clear sweat, and the slimey Gosser had congealed into a jell-o like consistency when Kellan raised his foot and slammed it down on the ground, sending out another shockwave! Gosser tumbled backwards by about three yards, flipped over the altar and fell into his own grave with a sickening squelch. Unfortunately, without real wings and as drained as I’d become, I wasn’t able to leap away, and toppled over as well… only to be caught by a pair of invisible hands. “Don’t worry, Augustus,” came Claudia’s cheerful whisper. “I’ve got you. This poltergeist thing isn’t that hard.” Meanwhile Kellan was glaring into the grave. “And that’s for hurting my friends, family, and loved ones, and using me to do it, you sick fuck!” He turned and saw me hovering in thin air, and ran over to help me to my feet. “Are you ok, Angelo?” I was about to respond in the affirmative, when I saw that something was stirring from the grave. “Guys, I don’t think Gosser’s quite done yet,” I exclaim as a limb formed of red muck and bone pulled a horrific body from the pit. With sightless eyes and a dripping maw, it hissed at us: “All wassss innnn my grasssp, and you ruinnned it allll… for what? A fewww paltry, spoiled lives, drinking themsellllves senseless? Rommmances that will be forgotten in a fewwww yearrrs? Whhyyyy are theirrrr goals and purrrrsuits morrrre valuable than mine?” “Because,” Claudia retorted. “You have no idea what any of us might accomplish in our lives, and what our futures might be like. You simply took away all of that possibility because you didn’t make the changes you really wanted with your own life, and underestimated and dismissed all of us as unimportant compared to your own goals… to have sex and look attractive and be in shape and party… everything that you accused us of doing.” “Because,” Kellan responded. “You manipulated people, lied to them, frightened them, and tried to control them rather than admit that you might be wrong or that you could have pursued your goals differently. And you betrayed everything that was supposed to matter… your faith, your goals, your family, your friends.” “And because,” I finished, letting the tones of the Chorus flow into my speech. “You died over a century ago. Your time to be in the world is long over. Isn’t that right… Azrael?” The others turned to stare at me, but that deep, rich voice echoed through the chapel. “SO, YOU REALIZED MY IDENTITY, NEPHEW? I AM PROUD OF YOU.” The stained glass window behind the altar blazed with rainbow colors as a figure with four thousand wings, a body consisting of enough eyes and tongues for every human living on Earth, and four floating, masklike faces, one of which was identical to my own, appeared above the altar. “The Angel of Death? You did hint at it after we saved Claudia,” I replied. “And once I got over your appearance and this creep spilled that angels were involved, at least through me, the it was pretty easy to figure out. You called yourself ‘The Helpful One,’ and Azrael means ‘Whom God Helps.’ Besides, he wrote about the different archangels in his journal. I skimmed over the passage the first time, and I was pretty distracted when we met, but it just made sense, in the end.” All four of Azrael’s faces smiled. “OF COURSE. NOW THEN,” his fourth face flipped over, going from my own appearance to a bearded, old-fashioned face that I realized must’ve been how Gosser had looked in life. “QUINCY GOSSER, MANY YEARS AGO, YOU LEFT THIS LIFE. I AM PLEASED THAT YOU ARE FINALLY RETURNING TO YOUR RIGHTFUL REST.” Gosser’s fluid face somehow conveyed an expression of hope. “I’m… I’m going to Heaven? After everything?” Azrael’s voice replied. “THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION. SOME SAY THAT ALL SOULS END UP IN HEAVEN EVENTUALLY, BECAUSE GOD IS MERCIFUL AND LOVING AND HIS SON SACRIFICED HIMSELF. OTHERS SAY THAT YOUR ACTIONS DETERMINE YOUR ULTIMATE FATE. YOUR ACTIONS IN LIFE AND DEATH HAVE BEEN GREATLY GOOD AND UNFORGIVEABLY EVIL. PERHAPS YOU WILL FIND THAT ALL SOULS HAVE THE CAPACITY TO REACH HEAVEN… BUT SOME OF THEM TAKE LONGER TO GET THERE THAN OTHERS.” With a fanning of Azrael’s many wings, and a faint hum of music that I suspected only I could hear, Gosser turned to dust and faded away. The fourth face of Azrael flipped again, this time becoming Claudia’s. “CLAUDIA WILLIS, YOUR TIME, AND THAT OF EVERY OTHER VICTIM OF QUINCY GOSSER’S, HAS NOT YET COME. RETURN TO YOUR BODY, AND THESE TWO WILL BE ALONG SHORTLY WITH MY DIRECTIONS ON HOW TO RESTORE YOU ALL TO YOUR MORTAL FLESH.” Claudia nodded, shooting us a nervous glance, and walked through the walls of the chapel, back towards the clearing where ‘Marilyn’ had left her. That reminded me… who was she? I was about to ask, but Azrael’s face flipped to mine, and its four heads shook in disagreement. “I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO ASK, NEPHEW, BUT I AM FORBIDDEN FROM TELLING YOU MORE ABOUT THE WOMAN DRESSED AS MARILYN MONROE, OR YOUR HERITAGE, SAVE THAT I WAS THE ONE WHO ALERTED HER TO YOUR NEED HERE, AND THAT YOU WILL SEE HER AGAIN SOMEDAY. PERHAPS SHE WILL FEEL MORE OPEN TO CONVERSATION THEN. NOW, WHEN WE SAVED CLAUDIA’S LIFE HOURS AGO, SHE BECAME A LINK BETWEEN THE LIVING AND THE DEAD… AT LEAST FOR THIS NIGHT. THAT IS WHY HER SPIRIT ALONE, OF ALL THE PEOPLE QUINCY GOSSER LEECHED OF THEIR LIFE FORCE, WAS ABLE TO MANIFEST AS A GHOST. YOU WILL NEED TO SING HER BACK TO HER BODY WHILE YOU…” The angel’s face flipped again, becoming Kellan’s. “WILL NEED TO COMPLETE ANGELO’S EARLIER USE OF THE LANGUAGE OF THE BIRDS TO RETURN THE STOLEN LIFE FORCE TO THE GUESTS. I BELIEVE YOUR FAIRY TALES WOULD SUGGEST THE BEST METHOD OF DOING SO. I SHALL ARRANGE FOR THE DAMAGE DONE TO THE PEOPLE AND PROPERTY TO VANISH, AS IF IT HAD NEVER HAPPENED, AND I SHALL SEE TO THE REMAINS OF THE VARIOUS CREATURES ANGELO REANIMATED. NOW, GO AND ENJOY YOUR LIVES… BECAUSE I WILL SEE YOU BOTH AGAIN… SOMEDAY.” With that, the archangel of death vanished. I looked at Kellan, and he actually blushed and scruffed his bare foot against the cracked floor, and tried to cover his crotch with both huge hands (and wasn’t entirely successful). Looking away to spare him some embarrassment, I murmured, “We’d best go meet up with Claudia.” He nodded, and we stepped out into the cold November morning, trudging down the fields towards the clearing. Along the way, he picked up the hayride driver and put him back in the cab of the tractor, but before we reached the clearing, Kellan held up a hand. “Wait… before we go in… I need to do something.” Facing him, I saw his features struggle for a bit, as he tried to decide what to say, before letting out a sigh. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I still need to be filled in on some of the events of tonight while Quincy took me over. I’m kinda worried about giving everyone back their lives. It feels creepy to have them in the first place, but you look like whatever you did put you through the ringer… and I like being a supermuscular, super horny guy with superpowers. It’s been just about the only good thing about his whole night… aside from meeting you. But if I give all that back, I’ll go back to being just another skinny indie guy in a band. Will I feel the same way about you… about guys in general… or will my memories change like Claudia’s did? I can’t just say I can work out or something, because there’s no way that I’d get these muscles through normal exercise… and there’d be no extra height or superpowers either.” He took another deep breath, then let it out, before continuing. “But I have to do it. It’s not right that Claudia and the others die just because I want to be superman. So before I go and restore everyone, I want to do this.” “Wha-,” I started to say, only to have his lips on mine, his tongue seeking entrance, his warm breath a sharp contrast to the cool night air, and his massive biceps and triceps wrapped around me as he lifted me up and held me against his rock-hard, marble smooth chest, the “To the Bone” tattoo warm beneath my fingers. I could feel his groan of satisfaction vibrating through his torso as the kiss became more hungry and fierce. I slid my hands up his pecs to rest on either side of his thick, bull-like neck, caressing the hard mounds of his shoulder muscles. God, could the guy kiss! All too soon, however, he broke away and gently lowered me to the ground in front of his magnificent naked (and hardening) body. “Thanks… even if I forget that and go back to my normal sexuality, it happened, and it happened when my mind and hormones weren’t being messed with. Let’s go break this spell.” It took me a moment to snap out of my kiss-induced stupor, but I nodded, and tried not to stare at his perfect ass as he loped through the undergrowth. I did notice that there were a variety of burns and ashen sticks left over from Gosser’s fight with my monsters, but if I looked closely, I could spot places where shoots were rapidly sprouting and re-growing. I didn’t see any lights, but I could hear the faintest strains of might have been music sung by a choir of angels. Claudia hovered above her lifeless body, and Kellan reached down to pick her up, before turning to lock his blue crystal eyes with mine. “Are you ready?” I nodded, unable to speak at this point. If he did forget and shrink back down, I’d be the only one who remembered anything… since I wasn’t entirely human. That knowledge, while wonderful to know while I was flying through the stormy sky, now made me feel like even more of an outsider than when I’d been the only sober person at a Halloween party. Drawing my attention back to the matters at hand, I cleared my throat and tried to sing. It came out as a croak. With Kellan’s expectant and worried eyes (not to mention Claudia’s translucent ones) on me, I tried again. It was like my throat was filled with silly putty; I struggled to get a reasonable sound out. Eventually I held a long note and was able to clear my throat enough to blend it with others. I drew on memories of flight, white fire, Claudia’s righteous smackdown, Kellan’s growth spurts, and his kisses, and I felt the song echo across the property, collide with the thunder, and seep into the drained bodies of the party guests… right as Kellan placed his lips on Claudia’s. Have you ever mixed a bunch of different paints together, especially in a cup of water? It usually ends up as a gray mess. Watching Claudia return to life was not unlike seeing that process in reverse; her gray pallor began to shift and flicker, and then her skin, hair, lips, and eyes took on their natural hues. To my second sight, however, her aura returned in a blaze like fireworks, or the glow of a summer afternoon when you’re just about to drift into a nap. She took in a deep breath, and Kellan, squeezed her gently, before she began to hungrily return his kiss. He now looked only a little smaller than he’d been a moment ago, but it was hard to tell with him leaning down to make out with his girlfriend. I turned away to give them some privacy and to look in the direction of the Manor, and I could hear the music start back up, along with the sounds of voices as the party returned to life. I could faintly see a blaze of lights from the returning auras of over 250 people registered on my ESP through the trees and walls of the building. The next thing I knew, I was pulled into a hug… not by Kellan’s huge arms, but by Claudia’s skinnier ones. “WE DID IT,” she squealed, almost directly into my ear. “This is awesome, Achilles!” Sigh. “Yeah, you’re right, Claudia… want to go check out the rest of the restored party?” She shook her head. “Nah, we’ll leave that to you. I’m feeling like I need to get my hunk here home and in bed. Have a good night!” Kellan looked like he was delirious that Claudia was back to her normal self (and the prospect of sex with her was a sure thing), so he waved at me and followed her to the car, presumably to avoid being spotted buck naked by anyone else. I stayed in the clearing, watching as the grass and trees re-grew in record time, and stones (actual stones, not fossils of a variety of monsters) emerged from the ground to decorate the space between the foliage. The night was almost over. Claudia was back to life, and the damage was undone. Quincy Gosser would never haunt the world again. Kellan was still in spectacular shape, and his relationship with Claudia seemed as strong as ever. I knew some more stuff about myself, and maybe had some talents I could use in the wide world. I should be happy, right? Except that I’d basically gotten a goodbye kiss from one of the hottest guys I’d ever seen, and I wasn’t sure how to take that. Claudia’s ghost had seemed open to sharing him, but if he was already shrinking, would he retain those feelings for me? And then I smacked myself in the forehead, realizing that I didn’t have Kellan’s number, email, anything! Groaning at my own stupidity, and realizing that Kellan and Claudia would be long gone by now, I began to leave the clearing to begin the long trudge uphill to say my goodbyes to my few remaining friends and coworkers at the party, when my foot kicked something that wasn’t a stone or a plant. I leaned down and picked up Gosser’s journal. And wondered… maybe there could be something in here that I could use. Gosser himself had failed in his mission to keep people safe from the supernatural, but that was because he was going about it the wrong way. Maybe I could learn from his mistakes and take what knowledge there was in the book and do some good with it. Tucking the journal under my arm, I began to follow the path that the hayride had been traveling all night, and reached the party. People were still moving around, shifting from the bonfire to the manor and all about. I decided that one lesson I could take from not following Gosser’s example would be to actually enjoy life as it was… so I went inside, poured myself a soda, and hopped to the dance floor to sway to the music as the dj played a couple of classic songs. And if I was dancing with myself, it didn’t matter. Honest. That goofy couple came around and asked me to flap my wings again, so I humored them, and I spotted Mack dancing drunkenly with another of my coworkers. I went over to them, said goodbye, and headed out. The drive home was uneventful, and I stripped off my costume, hung up my wings carefully, and collapsed into bed. I dreamed, of course, of flying. The next morning, I slept in, slowly pulling myself awake by reading a gay erotic romance novel on my kindle. I got cleaned up, did the laundry, and began the draining hunt for a new job, since I wouldn’t be able to rely on the Halloween Hayride position anymore… or at least, not until next year. As I was applying for an Administrative Assistant position nearby, my phone buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number on the screen, but when I opened it and said “Hello,” the deep, exuberant voice of Kellan filled my ears. “Angelo! How are you feeling?” “Kellan? Dude, I’m fine, but how are you? And how’d you get my number?” “Hahaha… remember when you conked out after singing Claudia back on the dance floor? And you woke up in my car? I went through your phone while you were sleeping in case I had to call your parents or something if you didn’t wake up, and I saved your number. But man, what’s your address… we need to meet up and talk about last night.” “Um… ok,” I murmured, before rattling off my address. I was trying not to get my hopes up, but Kellan had saved my number, even if he’d thought I was dying, and he wanted to meet up… I’m not too proud to take that. In a few minutes, the doorbell rang, and I went downstairs to find Kellan, dressed in a tight band t-shirt and jeans that accentuated his new musculature, while still looking non-mainstream. I let him in, looked him over and asked, “Did you have to go shopping for that outfit?” Kellan nodded. “The jeans, yeah… though I had to wear an uncomfortably tight pair of sweat pants to get into the shop. Nobody ever mentions “No pants, no service, but I didn’t want to risk it. The shirt I got at a show, and accidentally got the wrong size, so it was hanging around. But anyway, I’m too new to this gay thing to talk about clothes, so you might want to ask someone else if that’s all you’ve got to say.” I did a double take. “You’re still interested in guys after last night? I thought with the Sleeping Beauty true love kiss thing and Claudia said…” He flashed me a shit-eating grin. “Oh, Claudia kept me very busy this morning. I really do need a lot more sleep before I’m all caught up. Fortunately, I have a lot more stamina now… and someone else I want to sleep with. So, what’d you say? Want to show me what I’ve been missing?” “Far be it from me to turn down sex with a… what, 7’7” tall, hung, professional bodybuilder guitarist,” I reply, “but…” “I actually sing and can play drums and bass, too,” Kellan interrupted. Then he paused. “Ok, maybe I can’t sing as well as you, but I’m not an angel.” “Demi-semi-hemi-and-whatever-comes-after-hemi-almost-infinitely-back angel, actually,” I retort. “Besides, I’m not sure what I’ve actually got left. You heard me croak this morning, and weakening Gosser enough to break you free took a lot out of me… including my wings and all.” He looked me over, smiling at times, frowning at others. “Huh… You still look more… athletic? Toned? Maybe a bit taller than you already were, too. Maybe you just have to give your singing a rest for a bit, recover, and then practice more… maybe sing normally to build up your vocal skills. If you want to guest star at one of my band’s shows, I’m sure we’d be lucky to have you, even without magic songs.” I did a double take at that announcement. “Are you serious? You’d want me to sing with your band?” “Hell yes,” he said, then looked quizzical. “Can I say ‘hell’ around you? Don’t want to get struck by lightning or something.” I chuckled. “I’m pretty sure we can let it slide. At the most, you might get a static jolt from someone as far removed from the angel family tree as me… besides, I’m pretty sure that my… ancestor… didn’t end up on the best of terms with the Almighty.” “Why’s that,” he asked, a curious expression spreading across his features. “Well,” I hedge. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve been doing some research all afternoon. Apparently, Nephilim aren’t supposed to exist, which is why Gosser couldn’t sense me until he’d possessed human eyes, and why I was immune to the draining he used on everyone else.” His curious look morphed into an expression of shock and then anger. “Dude, never say that God’s mad at you for existing. That’s stupid! I think God sent you to that party just so that you could save all of us. Without you, Claudia and I, and everyone else there would be wiped out, and Quincy’d have his perfect body and be loose on the world. Besides, you helped out the Angel of Death… they fucking owe you, man, particularly since he used to be a man of faith that they let get out of control. Besides, I shouldn’t be the one to tell you that ancient Biblical scrolls written by a tribal scribe in the desert over two thousand years ago aren’t always God’s honest truth, gay boy.” I was speechless at first, but then I closed my mouth and nodded. He took that as assent and changed the subject. “So, you need to rest your voice, and you might or might not have wings anymore, but you’re immune to magic and spooky spying, you can cast spells, you can see and hear stuff that other people can’t, and you’re more fit than before, right? Well, I’m not as big and strong as I was last night, but I noticed something… this morning I reached for the fridge door, and it opened on its own… I think I’ve got Gosser’s poltergeist ability, and some of his other powers. Not sure how to fog people’s minds… and not sure I want to know after all that he did to Claudia, but I’m still super strong and fast, my senses are overcharged still, and I’m probably still pretty hard to hurt, and I might be able to absorb ghosts’ ectoplasm if I work at it, so why don’t we do some ghost busting, on the side? Maybe I’ll grow stronger, and you’ll get your other powers back, and we can continue to clear up other spooky messes. It’ll be awesome… and we can spend more time together and get to know each other better… and then have some hot, superpowered sex!” I had to laugh at his final statement, but then I thought about it. “Just the two of us?” He nodded. “Yeah. Claudia’s talking about how nice you were at the party… though she still keeps calling you other names beginning with A, even when I correct her. I think that maybe normal people’s minds naturally fog over around the supernatural… and she did die twice last night. It’s probably a good thing that she is blocking the memories out… besides, she hasn’t shown any supernatural powers. I don’t want her to get hurt, and unlike us, she’s not able to defend herself against things that go bump in the night. She did wink at me and told me she wanted all the dirty details later when I mentioned I was going to see you today, though, so I think she’s ok with sharing me, though… and honestly, now that I’m this strong, I need to hold back in sex with her… you, on the other hand, are a… napalm? Nefertiti?” “Nephilim.” “That’s it. You’re stronger… supernaturally strong… and if you’re not quite powerful enough to take on a crazed ghost in my body at the moment, my body’s not over 8 feet tall anymore, either. And you’re a dude. Can we at least try? My hormones are still amped up, and I’d rather not find out I have to be mostly celibate for the rest of my life.” “Poor guy,” I reply, laughing. “Oh, who am I kidding? There’s no way I can resist you, Kellan. C’mon over to the dark side!” In a flash, Kellan was kissing me, hungrily, his powerful hands tearing off my clothes with a loud RRRRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPP, exposing my skin to the cool air. Not wanting to damage his new clothes, I slip my hands under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his hard abdominal muscles before sliding the shirt up over his head. He pulled off his jeans, and I was treated to the sight of his naked body, his huge cock growing erect before my eyes. “Going commando,” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “I couldn’t find any thing that looked good and fit me… I’m kinda… gifted, you know” he replied with a shrug of his mountainous shoulders, before pulling me off my feet and pulling me into an embrace, his hard pecs against my face, while his thick cock filled and stretched towards me. “God, it feels sooooo good just to cut loose,” he groaned. Then he looked down at me. “Can… can we fuck? I don’t think I’m going to last long, and I want that ass. I mean, I want everything… I even want you to fuck me in the worst way, which is kinda messing with my head, you know? But I really, really want to fuck you.” “Sure,” I say. “Lube and condoms are upstairs in my room, in a bag under the bed.” Still holding me aloft, he headed towards the stairs. “Which way?” “Uh… all the way down the hall, to the right,” I manage as his muscles flexed against me with each step up the stairs. He deposited me on the bed with surprising gentleness (but also with haste) and dug under the bed, pulling out the promised bag. “Hold on,” I say. “Lie on your back and let me do it.” Taking the bag from him, digging out the magnums and several packs of lube, tearing them open, and sliding the condom down his huge shaft. It fit… barely. I then slathered the lube up the enormous cock, feeling it twitch with surprising force and eliciting throaty moans from Kellan as he tossed his head back against my pillows and writhed. With a liberal helping of lube, I readied myself, noting that my butt did feel a lot more… muscular… than I remembered, and straddled his hips, gently lowering myself onto his shaft., wincing as I did. With painful slowness, I worked my way down, driving Kellan increasingly wild, his breath heavy and his bodybuilder’s chest heaving, his fair skin flushed to a rich rose hue and his dark hair tangled and framing his perfect face, until I was able to rest my thighs against his flanks, feeling his balls against my ass. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I slid up, and then immediately back down, groaning deep in my throat as I felt Kellan filling me again. After a few more trips up and down his shaft, I felt like I could handle it and said, “OK, Kellan… take me!” A growl almost scarier than Gosser’s creepy rasp emerged from Kellan’s throat as he rolled his hips and slid into me, then rolled back out, then in again. “OOoooohhh, FUCK, YES,” he exhaled. “God, this is so tight! I’m not gonna last… ooooh… long!” “Oh wow! Uh… me neither,” I gasp, shocked, as I usually take awhile to get off when using anything but my hand. But I was fully erect (and was it my imagination, or was I bigger as well?) and dripping precum onto Kellan’s sculpted abs, which were gleaming with sweat. He reached up and slid his hands down my shoulders to the back of my arms, as if feeling my smaller, sleeker (but still mystically enhanced) biceps, and raised his head to lock his bright blue eyes with my dark brown ones. His expression was tender and wild and happy, and then I felt it… his cum gushing inside me, straining against the condom, somehow hitting me in just the right spot, triggering my own burst. I watched in surprise as my cock fired across the expanse of his torso, splashing onto his face and then over his head, against my wall, while I felt his juices slide down his shaft and pooling in his wiry dark pubic hair. He pulled me down, still riding his cock, holding me against his chest, and then kissed me long and deep, the motions of his tongue languid and graceful and sated as those of his new body. It took me awhile to pull myself together after being so thoroughly fucked, and I was enjoying just being held in Kellans muscular arms, when he shifted and said, “I don’t know how I feel about this…” Worried, I looked up at his face, and met his cyan gaze again, worried that he’d somehow gone from having a great time to having gay sex guilt, only to see a smile break over his face. “Do I want to fall asleep snuggling with you like this, do it again, or shower together and feel your hot hairy body all slick and soapy?” Deeply relieved that he wasn’t panicking, I pretended to think about it, stroking my chin, frowning, and narrowing my eyes. “Hmmm… all three?” “Works for me,” he rumbled, sending pleasant vibrations through his chest and cock into my body. “By the way, thought you should know something…” “What’s up?” I asked, stretching out on his hard body. “When we came, I could’ve sworn I saw some of your white flames fanning out behind your shoulders… and they were kinda sorta shaped like small wings.” Elsewhere, a woman who had been dressed as Marilyn Monroe the night before finished her ministrations on a couple of the monsters that had been reanimated to fight Gosser/Kellan the night before. They now looked like fully-living creatures, one with neon green scales and fins, one with scarlet feathers and a beak, and one with thick brown fur and tusks. She planted a kiss on each of their humanlike heads and announced, “There! All better!” If it was possible for the three monsters to blush, they would’ve, but at that instant a Barbie-sized androgynous creature with bat wings and a scorpion tail and tiny horns fluttered into the room. “Madam,” it said with all the formal air of a butler, “The spells you set up to watch your newly-discovered descendant show that he and the revenant from last night were successful in delivering the specter to the angel of death, and that they have formed an alliance to explore the supernatural… and a sexual liason, of sorts. You asked to be kept informed.” The woman flashed a perfectly white smile at the creature. “Thank you, imp. Yes, the boy will bear watching, especially if he can sing and attracted the attention of the archangels.” The three repaired monsters, exchanged a look, when the scaly one asked, “Um, Great One, we consider ourselves in our brother’s debt. Had he not possessed his Grigori ancestor’s talent for spells, we might not all have been brought back. Is he safe with the revenant? Even with the ghost gone, such creatures are…” “Problematic?” Finished ‘Marilyn’, with a wry smile. “I am aware. I do not share your debt… my gift of the dragon’s blood was sufficient reward for coming into his heritage, and he hasn’t shown any features of our side of the family just yet. Still, he could prove useful. And I am sure that if we continue to monitor his actions, we might find a way to bring him into the fold.” The feathered monster ruffled its winglike arms, and asked, “If it is just the two of them, are they likely to encounter much of the supernatural? I thought that their powers were both weakened by getting rid of the ghost. More experienced and sophisticated teams have sought out nonhuman intelligences before… there are whole television shows about them, after all.” The woman nodded. “True. Nevertheless, like calls to like. They two of them are already unable to stay away from each other… and together, they will draw the attention of others.” Her smile turned sharp, showing unusually pointed canine teeth. “Besides, I have it on good authority that things will get interesting for them next Halloween.” BESTIARY NOTES: These files are compiled from Quincy Gosser’s journal, independent research, and my own first hand experience with various paranormal and supernatural entities. I figure that if we are going to seek out the supernatural, we should leave a record of them so that others can learn from our experiences. The following creatures were encountered at the Higgins Manor. Sincerely, - A *Ghosts: Ghosts are some aspect of human LIFE that left such a powerful impression on the world that, at least a portion of the dead soul was unable to actually pass on. Ghosts are unique among undead in that they do not haunt places where their bodies are buried so much as places where they had a vivid emotional experience. This experience is often a complicated and tragic death, or some place that they loved and made their own in life, or a particular conflict or declaration that left echoes through time. It seems that ghosts are not actually creatures of death, per se, but of life. There is some debate about whether or not ghosts are actually the spirits/souls of humans, or whether they are just memories and recordings. In support of the latter theory, ghosts do not change, ever. They are as focused on their goals, their “unfinished business”, or their emotional moments fifty or a hundred years later as they are the moment after they died. Many ghosts have powers that would be described as “psychic”: telekinetic “poltergeist activity,” manipulating the minds and senses of others, possession, etc. When they do create illusions and phantasms, it is usually of their defining event in life. These illusions can be particularly vivid, with some people reporting cases not unlike time travel, experiencing some historical moment that shaped the creation of the ghost as if they’d actually been there. Ghostly possession is usually not as serious as demonic possession. Ghosts, however, show a peculiar ability to pick up greater power the longer they exist and are recognized. Some of what we consider pagan gods or elementals might actually have been ghosts at some point… ghosts who finally changed themselves, or gained some supernatural power and a lasting legend beyond their human identities. However, just as not every elderly individual lives to be 100 years old, not every ghost is remembered beyond the lives of their immediate descendants. Ghosts gain power from human energies and attentions, which is why they are so concerned with haunting humans, particularly if it furthers their goals. Ghosts can be reasoned with, however, and logic does work on them. They also seem to be weakened by the presence of people who don’t believe in ghosts (but strengthened by those people who do believe… and ghosts are possibly the most believed-in paranormal entity out there, second only to God). Many ghosts are essentially harmless… but ghosts, like people, are individuals, and they can be fearsome if roused to action. Many ghosts, it should be noted, do not know or accept their deaths, being far more concerned (or obsessed) with their lives. Fortunately, there are a number of rituals, sounds, prayers, and natural elements that can be used to exorcise or calm ghosts. Unfortunately, such things are considered superstition among many modern societies. With a ridiculous number of fake psychics and mediums out there, finding something that works against ghosts is very difficult. Note that ghosts are only ghosts in the mortal world. If you somehow find your way to an afterlife, the spirits there are often referred to as Shades, Saints, and Ancestors. *Revenants: Straddling the border between ghosts and vampires or liches (which are primarily a convention of fantasy rather than folklore), Revenants are undead spirits that manifest in some form of body, usually their own (though sometimes that of someone else). Revenants tend to have many powers similar to ghosts, as well as an effect on the life around them. Such effects include manifestations of plagues in formerly healthy villages, unusual behavior in animals and people, and a certain inexorable threat to the safety of a large number of people. Attacking or destroying the original body of a revenant, especially with the same rituals used against ghosts or vampires, can be a surefire way of both destroying the revenant and cleansing its influence from the area (miraculous recoveries all around are common afterwards). Kellan is a special case, in that, though he is definitely a revenant, the ghost that possessed him wanted to improve his physical health instead of detracting from it. His system has been permanently marked by the dark ritual and the huge amount of ectoplasm Gosser flooded his body with, though, and this has resulted in some unusual powers, even for a revenant. His connection to me, stemming from my interference in the ritual’s progress, might have muddied the waters as well. Since he has been rid of Gosser’s influence, we’ve primarily noticed that these powers, like my own, tend to be stronger around other supernatural influences, rather than being consistently present. Also, Kellan remains alive, though I have suspicions that he might now have a much longer lifespan than most people… assuming he doesn’t antagonize any paranormal entities too much. Besides, I’ll be watching his back. *Angels: “Do not be afraid.” The traditional image of angels as winged people, or little flying babies is very popular, but not exactly accurate. Angels are often depicted with wings to indicate their spiritual nature, but that rule holds true for fairies, pegasi, and many other entities as well. In fact, if angels do have a presence in the world, popular legends suggest that they look like, or disguise themselves, very much like humans. The true forms of angels are probably difficult to perceive from our limited senses, and are usually described as intricate chimerae, with features of lions, eagles, oxen, snake, humans, wheels, and more. For instance, the word “Seraphim” derives from the same root as “Serpent,” and these “burning ones” might possibly be the celestial dragons of the Far East through another cultural lens. The origins of Cherubim actually describe creatures like the Shedu or Lamassu or sphinxes of other legends, with the bodies of beasts like lions and bulls. Angels are often described as having many eyes, being sources of light, and having an unusual number of heads, wings, and mouths. It is uncertain if they work through humans (possessing them, perhaps) or create human bodies and identities for themselves from thin air. What is known is that the main body of angels has been split at least twice. The angels that followed the Adversary (the devil… it is somewhat confusing as to what he was called when he served God, since sources disagree) have been thrown into the mix of creatures collectively known as demons, and instigated a major conflict in heaven itself. They are now banished to Hell, and are generally not considered “angels” any longer. The rebellious Grigori, on the other hand, are a bit more ambiguous, since they didn’t actually fight with the other servants of Heaven. Angels seem to be constantly linked to the Chorus, which some Nephilim can perceive and join as well, and in this sense, they are working to uphold reality in some fashion that is appropriate to their roles as God’s servants. That said, angels seem to be responsible for a number of religions, but they don’t seem to have any actual preferences (Gabriel is supposed to have heralded the founding of Christianity and Islam, for instance). Also, Angels serve as a buffer between the world and God… such an effective one that even most of the supernatural creatures I have encountered since the night at the Higgins Manor have no idea if God, Heaven, and Hell exist or not. Angels seem to have a number of roles. Attempts to classify angels and assign them a hierarchy have been conflicting and confusing at best. The Seraphim are the highest rank of angels… or the fourth highest. The archangels are only the second lowest rank, but they somehow command all the other angels. None of the Powers have ever fallen from grace, but the devil might have been chief of the powers. It might be easier to describe angels by their actions in general rather than assigning one type to particular roles. Angels are Messengers. They are Guardians. They are Warriors. They are Healers. They are Guides. They are Psychopomps. They are even devil’s advocates and tempters, testing people at times (and there are some suggestions that the devil’s fall is actually orchestrated simply for the purpose of testing humans, and that the supposed War in Heaven is an act). Beyond anything else, angels are inscrutable. They are also powerful. Nothing says “beware” like an entity that is really on a mission from God. Their unusual features and vast abilities are likely why many of them are depicted as telling humans to not be afraid. But if they are fearful and maddening to view in their true forms, it puts legends of certain ancient gods and H.P. Lovecraft’s insane horrors in a very different light. That said, angels are not infallible and they are not perfect. Too many of them have fallen or rebelled for that to be the case, and they have since been strictly limited in what they are and are not allowed to do, particularly in the world of the living. They are vulnerable to pride, lust, and envy, and possibly other sins, and their role in upholding reality means they can’t create too many ripples. Angels much prefer to work through other agents unless demons are involved. *Nephilim: “Now it came about, when men began to multiply on the face of the land, and daughters were born to them, that the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves, whomever they chose. Then the LORD said, "My Spirit shall not strive with man forever, because he also is flesh; nevertheless his days shall be one hundred and twenty years." The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of men, and they bore children to them. Those were the mighty men who were of old, men of renown.” – Genesis 6:1-4 Nephilim are the descendants of Angels (mainly the Grigori, or Watchers, an entire choir of angels who were supposed to guide, teach and protect humanity) and Humans. Apparently, the Grigori found human women attractive, and abandoned their divine mission to have lovers among the human population. Each of the Grigori supposedly shared divine secrets with humanity, perhaps secrets which mankind was not meant to know. Their offspring, the Nephilim, were usually described as giants (Goliath, for instance, is supposed to be a nephilim), and many of them lived in Canaan. There is some suggestion that the demigods (Heracles, Helen of Troy, Gilgamesh, etc) of other cultures were also nephilim, but records are scarce. Supposedly, the vast majority of Nephilim died out in the biblical flood, which was sent to wipe them from the earth after their culture had become corrupt and spread its influence to the surrounding human tribes. The Grigori themselves were “bound in the valleys of the earth, under darkness, until Judgment Day.” Without the Grigori to support them, and with their population almost wiped out, the Nephilim never really recovered as a civilization, though there is some suggestion that both royal bloodlines (especially those that espoused “Divine Right” to rule) and some of the more outrageous mutations in the human population are a result of lingering nephilim lineage. I find the theory that all gifted and talented people have Nephilim blood to be rather dismissive and belittling of the true gifts of humanity as a species, as well as grossly overestimating the number of nephilim that remain. According to the journal, only a few families remain that have even the potential to manifest nephilim genes, and of those that do, few every realize that potential. Many people in nephilim families go their entire lives without a clue that they are in any way different. Abilities-wise, Nephilim are gifted. They possess the human capacity for free will, and have no real weaknesses (though some have individual fatal flaws) aside from a tendency towards corruption and a feeling of discomfort with their status between humanity and angels (leading many to pursue apotheosis). Nephilim are stronger and have greater endurance than humans, and their lifespans can stretch for hundreds of years. Nephilim have a surprising presence that they are often not fully aware of, which might manifest as good looks, hideousness, charisma, leadership, or fading into the background. Nephilim also tend to have some sort of talent that is extremely powerful. All nephilim are immune to both human magics (many of which were originally taught by the Grigori) and other supernatural senses. Some scholars claim that this invisibility to scrying derives from nephilim being unnatural creatures who were never part of the Divine Plan. I wonder if perhaps, as links between both the physical and spiritual world, we somehow blend in. Nephilim also inherit some ability related to their ultimate angelic ancestor. For instance, my ancestor, Armaros taught men “the resolving of enchantments,” so I was able to alter and break some of Quincy Gosser’s spells. Another nephilim, descended from Chazaqiel or Azazel, might have some talent for manipulating the weather or weapons and armor and cosmetics and jewelry, respectively. Nephilim can sometimes manifest the natural powers of their angelic ancestors, but usually only if they encounter angels who unlock those powers. These powers include second sight/ESP, wings, a boost to strength and endurance, and heavenly fire and light. Nephilim also have the potential to hear and join the Chorus, a musical representation of reality itself, maintained by the angels. Those that can sing in this fashion are capable of altering the rules of the world around them, however, singing for unimportant reasons can draw negative attention from angels, and sometimes the rest of the Chorus opposes an individual song, rendering changes to reality impossible. Overuse of the Chorus is also possible, especially for beginners, and can make it difficult for a nephilim to sing without extensive periods of rest. Generally, alterations of the Chorus are subtle and temporary, and tend to involve changing the rules of a situation instead of raw creation or destruction (though such effects are possible). For instance, an angel using the Chorus to rescue a human from a burning building could rule that the inhabited parts of the building are fireproof and cool to the touch and smoke free for the duration of the human’s escape, only to collapse behind him once safely outside. A nephilim using the Chorus to create a vast fortune for herself would probably find the attempt exhausting and pointless (all the money might be monopoly money, or obvious counterfeits, or it might be stolen almost immediately). *Marilyn Monroe: ? I have my suspicions about “Marilyn,” but whatever she is (aside from related to me, somehow), there are currently too few clues to be certain. Sure, there are hundreds of supernatural women, witches, demons, goddesses, and spirits that assume female form out there. About the only thing I know about her is that she knows Azrael, has access to dragon’s blood, somehow knew what I’d been reading (or manipulated luck to cause me to read that reanimation spell), and can teleport both herself and other things. She seems to have some limitations involving how much she can influence people, so maybe she’s a fallen angel or demon of some sort? I admit I am somewhat loathe to go asking around, both because she is powerful enough to spook Gosser and I’d rather not antagonize her, and because I already found out I’ve got one of the Grigori in my background… I’m not sure I want to know just what else is hidden in my family tree. This post has been promoted to an article

(English is not my mother language, so please dont be disturbed about any weird spelling oder phrasing) Nobody knows how the ancient Egyptianss built the astonishing pyramids of Giza... really? No one? Here is a story that might give some hints about that topic... User and Nakht, two farmers from the Sycomore district, had been drafted as thousands of other workers to build the pyramid of Pharaoh. Both were neighbors in the poor village they inhabited and good friends. At first they were mainly blade forces in their division. After two months, most construction projects, which were necessary for the following work, as a water channel and a port, were completed. The site was leveled and soon the first stones would arrive from the quarries. Worrying about how they should perform the miracle of a pyramid construction, they were nervous. They would be told, what they should do. One day their camp was visited by a group of high priests, they stood appeal and the holy men walked the long rows of workers. If they spotted a stronger guy, they would stop and had a closer look. One of the white-robed priest then approached Nakht and User. The priest looked at User who was from both the more stable, more bull-necked peasant. User was a pretty strong man, with broad shoulders and powerful fists. Finally the priest said coldly: "Take off your clothes." Unsure User put off the skirt of dirty linen which he wore during the day - at night he slept mostly naked, like many Egyptian men. Especially since it was practical, because he had an insatiable woman he could sleep upon so quickly. Nakht whistled calmly as he saw the mighty dick of his buddy. No wonder that his wife had such a craving for this breeding animal! The priest approached and engulfed with his hand one of Users two testicles. User winced and clenched his fists. Nakht was amazed - no one in the village would have dared that, neither at the bathing in the Nile nor in a scuffle. But the unapproachable aura of the priest kept User from getting beat up this guy who was touching his gonads so fond. The priest weighed carefully the testicles in his hand and ran his fingers caressing against the thick, quivering ball. Soon after that Nakht saw how Users dick slowly swelled – that petting was not without consequences. But before it could even be more embarrassing for the powerful lower Egyptian, the priest let go and said: "You are particularly suitable. You will first be marked for the construction of the Pyramid of the King. Come at once. " User put quickly back on his apron, when the priest remarked: "You do not actually need that, but if you want ..." The next time Nakht saw User it was in the following evening. User looked tired and pale and fell almost immediately on the cot next to Nakht. When he spoke to him, he was sleeping soundly. So Nakht let him sleep without further ado. The next morning he was gone again, as Nakht woke at dawn. Users cot looked disheveled and messy and Nakht saw Users skirt between the straw, who was stiff with dried cum. Nakht wondered if User was now naked in the temple or whether he was. Would User get a new apron? And why was the skirt full of cum? Maybe it was just an erotic dream? It should pass two days before Nakht saw User again. As he ran around a corner, he spotted him - he just did not recognize him in an instant only because he had changed. "User" "Mm?" User had grown, he seemed to be heavier and was significantly more muscular. His shoulders were broader and his upper body was massive as a hippopotamus, the arms had also pumped up. "What happened?" marveled Nakht, but his friend User just looked at him and grabbed his crotch, where a big bump deformed a new apron. "The priest ... what's he doing with you?" "I am the first one who gets assigned to the divine power of Pharaoh, buddy ..." "How does it work? And the first? Will more men following? " "I do not know ... it's hard to say ... or think ... but you see, I am stronger ... I will lift stones that normal men can not lift, Nakht." Nakht was amazed and knew not to say anything. User did not seem quite to know what to say, so he tugged at the big bump that seemed to be getting thicker. "I must go back now ..." "Wait, why? What happened to you, what about the priest? " "I have to go now. I need some time to myself ... " "Can you come here more often?" The broad guy with the wide shoulders pointed to a window, located about two meters of the wall. "There I sleep now. Priests say it would be better, then it would not be so noticeable. And in the morning it's not so embarrassing when I ... " "If what?" User just grinned and said goodbye. Nakht let him go back into the walled area. Shortly thereafter he heard from said window heavy groans and a noise as if someone would work a heavy piece of meat. User was jacking off, obviously.

Damn Dionysus! Part 3: Revelation Martin gripped his cock and let his thoughts begin to spiral. Not for the first time he wondered what would have happened had he not found his little hideaway up here. Even now, despite the fact that though he had been ejaculating four times a day for the last two weeks, his balls were as swollen with hot cum as ever, his lust as consuming as it had been on his first day on the island. Maybe it was the fact that Sam kept getting bigger. Perhaps the two – Sam’s muscle size and Martin’s lust – were linked in some way. As though he would never be able to feel sated, to turn his mind to more rational things, to think about anything other than muscle and cock, until Sam stopped growing. His dick pulsed excitedly. And Sam didn’t appear to be stopping any time soon. As usual, the moment his thoughts yo-yoed back to the swelling bodybuilder, all of Martin’s other concerns melted away in the impossible heat from his loin-fires. He had indulged so many fantasies over the last two weeks as he pounded his meat. Sam smothering him with his titanic abs. Sam forcing his tiny mouth to suck every drop of sweat from his huge, hairy balls. Only five minutes ago, when his hand had last been on his cock, the cum in his testicles had churned fiercely with the thought of the freaky bodybuilder using him as a human dumbbell to keep his peaks pumped and lean, and he had loved every second of it. In his mind’s eye the hunk’s freaking huge arms had swollen even bigger as blood filled the sinews, getting so big that it became more and more difficult for the massive stud to bend his arms. Not all Martin’s wanks had been triggered by thoughts of the big man’s muscles or balls, however. Plenty of times he had worked himself into a frenzy over fevered thoughts of Sam’s cock, too. He loved imagining the huge man trying to squeeze his cock into his tiny, tight hole, then, with his insane strength behind it, forcing the head in, stretching him wonderfully wide, only to insist, against his smaller lover’s desperate protestations, that he could fit the rest inside him too. Even as he was pounding his meat, an errant thought coalesced in his brain: why did Sam still refuse to talk about his size? He must be over 1,500lbs now…he towered above Martin’s little form…and yet…nothing. Martin had learnt better than to bring it up – but at this stage it was more like denial. Martin couldn’t help but feel short changed. He had only half his fantasy. A growing man…but one who didn’t even talk about his musculature. He wanted a dominant god obsessed with getting bigger and bigger, frustrated at his slow growth, not…whatever Sam was. He pictured Sam forcing more and more of that mammoth tool into his anus, felt it filling him completely, making him so content, so stuffed, so stretched…his hand beat his cock furiously now. “Sam!” He gasped. “Split me in half with your godcock! I NEED to be fucked so badly! Oh FUCK! So fucking BIG inside me, rearranging all my fucking guts…” His next few words were reduced to incomprehensible babble as he drooled all over himself once more, before shooting a half-litre of milky fluid onto his clenched abs. “Damn,” he huffed, “didn’t even get it on the plants this time…” He was always amazed how much he came every time. It was like the magic of the island…the magic of Sam…kept his balls constantly refilled. He wondered – briefly – how much cum he had actually ejaculated on this pile of rocks over the last fortnight. “ENOUGH,” came a voice from the centre of the pool, “TO MAKE ME FEEL THAT IT IS TIME FOR US TO ACTUALLY MEET, MORTAL.” * Before Martin could react, or even put away his cock, the light shimmering on the pool’s surface wove itself into the rough outline of a human face. Not for the first time since he had found himself on the island, Martin’s brain froze. Though this time it was as a result of shock rather than lust. From where he sat, still shivering as the tendrils of post-orgasmic bliss receded across his nervous system, he gaped down at the visage wavering in the gentle pool before him. “YOU LOOK SURPRISED, MORTAL. DID YOU NOT SENSE MY PRESENCE HERE ON THE ISLAND?” Martin found his voice, and replied, somewhat weakly, “Your presence?” The eyes of the face seemed to study him for a moment, though it could simply have been a trick of the light. “AFTER ALL,” the spirit continued, “WHO DO YOU THINK GRANTED YOUR WISHES?” Martin was about to ask, “Wishes?” but hated himself for simply repeating the face’s words back at it. The last two weeks had given him good conversational training – he was a pro at avoiding saying things. “Who are you?” “I AM THE SPIRIT OF THIS PLACE.” As shocked as Martin had been, he found his thoughts returning to their comfortable habitual contemplation of Sam’s massive size. “And…you grew Sam?” “NO,” the spirit said. “YOU DID. I MERELY PLUCKED THE THOUGHT FROM YOUR HEAD. JUST AS I PLUCKED IT FROM YOUR FRIEND.” “You read our minds?” The conversation was getting stranger and stranger. “I READ YOUR SOULS…YOUR INNERMOST THOUGHTS…YOUR SECRET DESIRES.” Desires. Sam started to become painfully aware that he was sitting there with his cock out and cum glistening on his stomach. He stood up quickly, pulling the waistband of his pyjama bottoms over his taut waist. “YOU WERE FAR AWAY WHEN I FIRST BECAME AWARE OF YOU, SWIRLING, SCREAMING IN THE DARKNESS. YOUR FRIEND…IN HIS HEART I DISCERNED HIS DESIRE, ABOVE ALL ELSE, TO SURVIVE. HIGHLY LOGICAL. DESPITE HIS STRUGGLES, HE WAS SINKING BENEATH THE WINE-DARK SEA, AND WOULD HAVE PERISHED WERE IT NOT FOR MY BRINGING HIM HERE.” Not taking his eyes off the face, Martin reached up to check whether the cum on his stomach had started to dry. His finger came away with a glistening pearl of the stuff, still linked with a thin, sticky rope to the gloopy mess on his abs. Clearly not. “I SHAPED HIS EVERY THOUGHT SO THAT AT THE FOREFRONT OF HIS MIND IS THE IDEA OF SURVIVAL…IT IS HIS SOLE DRIVE.” “And my wish?” “YOU DESIRED A MAN TO GROW ENDLESSLY BIGGER AND MORE MUSCULAR.” Martin waited for the spirit to continue. It didn’t. Guess my wish is a little simpler, he mused, wiping his fingers on the worn material of his pyjama bottoms. It doesn’t really need an explanation. Martin’s thoughts had begun to drift back to the ripped god waiting for him on the island below…perhaps he had grown even bigger in the ten minutes since he’d seen him last! His cock gave a twitch. Damn, still horny! This was a real-life supernatural experience and he was acting like some crazy hormonal teenager. He tried to stem his testosterone tide, to focus, with some difficulty, on the conversation. “But Sam’s so BIG!” Martin’s cock twitched again. Focus, he told himself. He went on: “Why does he not acknowledge his size? I mean, he’s massive!” Twitch. Focus! “But he acts like he doesn’t know it. Has that got something to do with you too?” “HE IS A MAN IN LOVE WITH THE IDEA OF SIZE, OF MUSCLE, ALMOST AS MUCH AS YOU ARE, MORTAL. BUT UNLIKE YOU THAT DESIRE WAS NOT AS THE FOREFRONT OF HIS BRAIN.” Martin thought quickly, excited, penis jerking now as though it were being galvanised with a series of electric pulses. “But you’re saying that it’s what he wants? Growing, I mean? He wants to be big?” “THAT DESIRE IS SECOND ONLY TO HIS DESIRE TO SURVIVE, YES. A DESIRE FOR LIFE.” Sam was his dream man after all! Only his mind had been twisted, warped by this spirit. He wanted to grow…to be the muscle god that Martin had always craved…to grow endlessly bigger… Martin was steel hard again. “JUST AS IN YOUR MIND, YOUR DESIRE TO SURVIVE RUNS SECONDARY TO YOUR LUST FOR MUSCLE.” The 35 year-old was so painfully erect he missed the slightly condescending tone in the spirit’s voice. “So you did the reverse with me…” He tried to keep his hands away from his cock. “You amped up my libido – while toning down my rational thought?” He gave his straining member a quick squeeze just to keep it sated, and went on: “No wonder I got over the idea of being shipwrecked so quickly…with about the same alacrity that I fell head over heels in lust with Sam…” He paused. “And the fact that I’m talking to a glowing face in a pool and all I can think about is Sam’s muscles growing – ugh – more and more massive and striated…” His dick squeezed out a dollop of pre. “INDEED.” The spirit’s voice sounded weaker. “AND NOW THAT YOUR QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED, MORTAL, I WILL TAKE MY LEAVE OF YOU. THIS HAS BEEN…ENGAGING. IT HAS BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE MORTALS WERE LAST ON MY ISLAND.” “Wait!” Martin cried. The spirit couldn’t go now. Now when…when everything was so close to being perfect! “SPEAK QUICKLY, MORTAL. MY TIME GROWS SHORT.” Martin’s mind raced. His dream…his desires…were almost tangible…he just had to say something…to nudge an idea here, a wish there… And then suddenly, from some forgotten corner of his mind, the answer came to him. Balance. A story some pretentious idiot had posted on The Evolution Forum had mentioned something about Ancient Greek psychology. How there were two sides to one’s nature. Apollonian and – what was it? – Dionysian. It was a load of garbled, uppity, show-off crap (and there had been no pictures of insanely massive bodybuilders to accompany the story) so he had switched off virtually straight away, but somehow the message had stuck. It clanged in Martin’s brain in a moment of clarity. “We’re not balanced,” he stammered. “That’s why right from the start this whole situation has felt…odd.” (Though miraculous survival and impossible muscle growth might have had something to do with it too, he mused, though he carefully popped the thought to one side.) “Like I’m not in control of my own mind…and I’m sure Sam’s not in control of his. We’re too uneven. So balance us out. Sam can’t live like some logical automaton stuck in “survival mode” – I mean, he’s got to acknowledge what has happened to him, to revel in his sheer, massive size, to share his musclelust with me…” Martin’s cock, always eager to do its bit, dripped a little more pre in agreement. “And me? I’ve been trapped in this lusty Dionysian haze for the last fortnight. I nearly killed myself not masturbating for the first five days here…and even since then, I have barely been able to think about anything other than Sam’s huge, striated,” focus! “muscles…does that sound normal to you? So damn Dionysus – give me a bit of Apollo too…make me…at least a little bit concerned about surviving. Is that too much to ask?” The spirit seemed to ponder for a moment. “I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT,” it sniffed. “BUT THEN, YOU ARE THINKING ILLOGICALLY. SO BE IT. YOUR SECONDARY DESIRES – BE THEY LOGICAL OR EMOTIONAL – WILL ALSO BE GRANTED.” The spirit paused. “NOW MAY I GO?” Martin thought the spirit sounded a little peeved off, and decided to acquiesce. He gave a slight nod. The lights of eyes, mouth and nose spiralled away, and Martin was left looking down at a dark pool. He realised that he had his hand on his cock, and released it, a cool current of strange relief trickling through him as he did so. He couldn’t simply spend all of his time up here masturbating, he thought, shaking his head at himself with a wry grin. He glanced about him at the scraggly plants and palm trees swaying gently in the faint breeze, flecked with the faded drips of ejaculate. There were more important things to do. Like figuring out how to survive. And, of course, seeing if Sam’s personality had changed as well… * The harsh cry of seabirds stirred Martin from his slumber. He stretched out his limbs and gave a yawn. The hot morning sun warmed his face. The heat rising from below him, however, was greater still. “Morning, sleepyhead!” Came the now-familiar greeting. “How’d you sleep?” “Mmm, I had a dream…” The surface beneath him shifted a little. “Was I in it?” Martin’s eyed flickered open to see the face of his huge lover Sam grinning down at him. This had become a bit of a daily ritual for them, and they both got off on it immensely. “Mr Stud, you’re ALWAYS in my dreams.” The surface shifted again and the heat seemed to rise. He couldn’t help adding, with a cheeky grin, “Only, in my dream you were a LOT bigger than you are now…” The warm surface beneath his back jerked suddenly, and Martin had to grab hold of a fleshy fold to stop himself from falling off. He couldn’t stop laughing as the shadow of Sam’s face loomed over him, casting the hilly plain of his straining abs into near-darkness. “Damn it, little guy – I LOVE it when you fall asleep on my cock. You always have the best dreams.” The huge man reached down with a finger and ran it gently over Martin’s body, pressing him into the swelling member. Then he picked the smaller man up and placed him carefully on his thigh. “So tell me,” he said as he wrapped that mammoth hand around his 12 foot, arse-splitting godtool and started to work it with a meaty paw, “how big was I?” Martin gazed up in adoration and silent worship at the towering stud. By his estimation, they had been on the island for nearly three months now. Sam was around 230 feet tall, and well over twice as wide as that, all huge, pulsing, ripped-to-shreds muscle. Or at least he had been yesterday. Today, both of them knew, he would be even bigger. In time, the bodybuilder would outgrow the little island, and Martin would be forced to live on his giant lover’s body. The thought turned both of them on immensely. Martin was glad the hulking bodybuilder had finally shrugged off his cold, survive-at-all-costs mentality and had learned to have a little fun. Almost as much as he himself was glad to have picked up a bit of clearheaded, rational thinking along the way. The little man knelt down on one of the hot, swollen hills of the bodybuilder’s quads. Even the striations between the teardrops, the huge, corded knots of steel hard muscle, were bigger than he was. He ran his excited fingers over the bronze, tensed glory of one of the muscles, his little dick instantly rock hard. Glancing back at Sam’s face as the giant muscleman pumped his gargantuan cock with increasing fury, he recited the words that he knew his lover wanted to hear: “Not big enough.” “Ugh!” The giant let out a grunt that shook the island. A drop of pre the size of a bowling ball swelled at the top of his stupendous cock and ran down over one of his massive knuckles. Martin felt his lust beginning to flare up inside him. In just four more months, he had calculated, Sam would be big enough to attempt the swim to the mainland. No storm or waves would be powerful enough to stop the muscle stud at that size… He grinned, and began to lick and caress the vast, straining muscles below and around him. “Fuck, Sam,” he murmured between licks. “I thought I’d never find a guy big enough for me. But you’re almost there, stud. I love how you’re just so fucking huge! So fucking MASSIVE!” “Ugh! Oh GOD! YES!” The lusty chorus thundered from above. Martin, swimming in ecstasy, kept up his rant. “Insanely huge muscles, so BIG…but I want them BIGGER…you need to get HUGE…I want you endlessly bigger…” “Ugh! More!” Sam’s hand pistoned away at his turgid godcock. “That’s what I want you to scream when I ask how much muscle you want – how much muscle you NEED! You want more!” “Yes! MORE!” The giant roared. “MORE MUSCLE! NEVER BIG ENOUGH!” “You’d still be too SMALL for me! How much MASS do you crave? How big do you want to get?” “INFINITE SIZE! INFINITE MASS! MUSCLES SO BIG…SO HUGE…AND THEN A MILLION TIMES BIGGER…THEN A BILLION BILLION TIMES BIGGER THAN THAT EVERY SECOND!” Delirious, Martin glanced up from the hot, swollen massiveness of the giant’s thigh. His cock was wedged between two tensing striations and he was pumping away furiously. His theory about returning to the mainland wasn’t the only bright, logical idea he’d had the day he met the spirit of the island. He’d solved their food problem too. The giant worked his dick at a staggering pace now. “THEN EVEN BIGGER! SO MUCH BIGGER!” They wanted protein? Who needed fish? “I’M GONNA BE FUCKING HUUUUUUUGE!” Sam’s bass voice filled the heavens as his cock exploded and scorching ejaculate splattered down all over himself, his hot little lover Martin, and the rest of the island. Breakfast was served.