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  1. RoseConspiracy

    The Silver Fox

    "Sometimes you just need to be taken care of by a sexy, older muscle man." *Why, yes. I am, in fact, quite capable of writing a story with plausible growth, a silver fox and slow, steamy sex I hope you enjoy!* "Don't do that, baby girl," he growled. "Don't give him the satisfaction of you looking over there. You're better than that. You're better than him." I didn't even have to look up or turn around to know who was talking. I knew that voice. I knew exactly who it belonged to. It had haunted my dreams for the better part of a year. "Go away, Jim. Nobody wants you here." I groaned. I could feel the warmth of his muscled body pressing against my back. It reminded me of the first time we made out. His chest pinning me to my own car as his mouth and tongue ravaged me. "Are you sure?" He chuckled, moving in even closer. I had forgotten the sexy silver fox had no personal space. "Yes," I hissed. "I told you last weekend that ship sailed last year. It's not my fault you fucked up. I delivered Michelle to you on a silver platter." I shivered as I felt his hand brush the hair away from my neck. "I didn't fuck up," he whispered harshly against my ear. "After tasting your delicious pussy all last year, I told you I wasn't interested in her anymore." I smirked. "I know that look," he chuckled. "I don't even have to see your face.." "Just admit it, I'm the sex goddess of your dreams." The fact that he called me little, did not go unnoticed. "I don't know," he said as he nuzzled my ear. "Do you still taste like gingerbread and cupcakes?" He always had a way of doing that. Of being too close. His head was right beside mine, and I couldn't help but remember how his teeth were always so straight and white. They looked good against his tan skin and his perfectly trimmed salt and pepper beard. And let's not forget, those adorable old man crinkles by his kind, chocolate colored eyes– have mercy. I was still disappointed that he'd let his last girlfriend talk him into trimming his shoulder length hair though. I could feel his hand slowly gliding across my lower back, something he always did to show the entire bar you were his. Only this time it felt different. Of course his touch was rougher with that freakish strength of a man who had worked hard and played harder his whole life. But this time the fingers seemed longer– thicker. "Promise me one thing," he hummed against my skin. "Promise me that when he gets bored with her– and he will get bored– promise me you won't take that manchild back." Jim growled once again, sending shivers down my spine. I could still remember every curve of every muscle in his hard, sexy body. We had fucked so many times last year between March and June, I could have perfectly sculpted his body out of clay. Right down to every vein and fiber. With my eyes closed. I could feel the blush creeping up my cheeks so I turned my head away and pretended to focus on the band. "Let's get out of here," he suggested. "Anywhere. Even your stupid dive bar, Silver Bullet." "You hate Eminem and metalcore," I chuckled. "And mosh pits. And people my age." He laughed at that. "You're right, it's probably past my bedtime." When I didn't say anything he pressed. "C’mon, let me buy you a drink." "No. Every time I let you do that, I wind up going home with you," I said honestly. "You say it like it's a bad thing." I didn't even have to look to know he had let his big arms settle across his even bigger chest "Besides, if you think I'm going to let you drive home now–" he paused, gesturing wildly to the numerous empty glasses in front of me, "-you're wrong." He dug into my purse, whistled and tossed my keys to the bartender with a nod so fast, I barely had time to register what had happened. "Hey!" I shrieked, but Jim cut me off. He gripped me so tightly by the waist and turned me to face him. And I mean really face him. "You're my responsibility now." I gasped as my eyes raked over him. The way the gray shirt clung to his chest and shoulders– and those sleeves! They looked like they would burst open around his arms at any minute. Was he– bigger? He gave me a cheeky grin as he tossed his head back and shook the hair out of his eyes. I swear he pulled a lat spread as he let his curled fists rest on his trim waist. "Like what you see, baby girl?" My mouth opened and closed a few times. Maybe I really was too drunk to drive home. That, or my horny, muscle drunk mind was playing tricks on me. No one could pack on that much size in a week. I needed a distraction. This wasn't me. I didn't stare or lose my cool. I was sex personified, goddamnit. And I certainly. Didn't. Simp. I hopped up out of my chair with glee as Chronic Flannel started playing Smells Like Teen Spirit. I smiled as I looked down at Jim. He may have gotten a little broader, but he was still just as short as ever. That was all the clarity I needed. All was right in the world and I wasn't too drunk after all. I'd wrestle the bartender for my keys later. "Are you coming?" I smirked as I pulled Jim towards the dance floor. His little five foot seven self groaned, growled and snarled the entire way, but he went. "You're still the only one who can get him out on the dance floor," Robbie laughed as he approached us before pulling me in for a quick hug. "What's up hun, it's been a while." Robbie was one of Jim's 'old man friends', as I liked to call him. They both worked at the same auto body shop and could pretty much be found together every Friday and Saturday night. "Was she even born when this song came out?" Robbie teased as he elbowed Jim. I gave them both a dazzling smile as I sang along and jumped with the crowd. It was towards the end of the song when I felt a very hard tap on my shoulder. "Seriously? You just can't get enough of that old man dick, can you!" I stumbled backwards, but Jim was right there. With one arm he had pulled me against his body for safety. "Daddy," I whimpered. And fuck, did his hold ever tighten around me. "You need to go home, son. You're drunk." I found myself fixated on the vein bulging out of his neck. His voice left no room for argument and his entire body thrummed with power. My drunk ex looked down at the both of us. But I saw how his eyes followed the thick vein sprawling over the massive muscle in Jim's outstretched arm. Much to my surprise, he turned and tucked tail back to his new slut. I watched them argue for a bit before they headed for the door. "Do you think he'll come back?" I asked softly. "Dunno," Jim replied. "But we aren't sticking around to find out." I started to protest, but the words were caught in my throat. I gave a little squeal as I was unceremoniously lifted and tossed over one very broad shoulder. "Wait. What the fuck? No!" Jim stopped barreling through the crowd but didn't set me down. "You really want me to leave you here?" He growled. "No. Well… wait! I mean–" But Jim had started moving again, and it was all I could do but cringe. Especially as mutual friends spotted us heading out the door. "I knew it was only a matter of time before they got back together," Ashley elbowed her husband who then gave me a grin and a thumbs up. "We're not together!" I called back to them. But that just didn't suffice. Jim swung back around, "She's a stubborn little thing, isn't she?" "And in denial!" Robbie, who had moved to where Jason and Ashley were sitting, added. I found myself staring at asphalt, listening to his boots heavily stomp across the parking lot. He swung open the passenger side door and then uprighted me inside. Not a word was spoken as he buckled me in. It was a three minute drive to his house and ten seconds in he was grabbing for my hand. I surprised myself when I didn't pull away but instead inner laced my slim fingers with his thicker, calloused ones. "I can take you home," he offered. "If you don't want to go back to my place." I smirked and rolled my eyes. "And say no to a chance at seeing your cute little ass in a silk robe? I don't think so." He lifted my hand and brought it up to his lips. "I was hoping you'd say that." We rode the rest of the way in silence and soon enough we turned down the familiar road. My heart started racing a mile a minute. It was slightly intimidating afterall. I was confident for the most part, but he was so much older and experienced. Seasoned, as he preferred. "Nervous?" He chuckled. He had cut the engine to his truck and backed into the garage. I watched the door close before forcing a smile. "Nope." "Liar." "Whatever!" I hollered after him as he got out and slammed the driver's side door. "Why would I be?" I continued as I followed him into his kitchen before leaving my shoes at the door. "It should be you that's nervous. I mean, you've never actually even made me cum," I taunted. "That's true," he said as he spun around to face me. "But that's only because you're a stubborn little brat." "Am not! I just know what I like." "Oh? And did nine incher ever make you cum?" "Ugh, seriously?" My eyes visibly rolled so far back in my head, I thought they'd get stuck. 'Nine incher' was the bodybuilder I had been dating last year, until Jim made his move. "Not him again. You clearly stole me and won, so what does it matter?" "Just tell me," Jim insisted. "Fine. But just so we're clear, green is not your color. And he only made me cum once, and not with his dick." Jim looked confused. "I came on his arm." "His arm?" "Yeah," I blushed. "Listen, I really don't wanna talk about this. But Jim had no intentions of letting this die. "How big were his arms?" "I dunno. Twenty-one, maybe twenty two inches?" "Yeah," he whistled. "Nine incher was a pretty big boy. How big do you think I am?" I bit my lip as he lifted his arm and flexed. I could feel myself blushing. Harder. "I don't– I don't know," I stuttered. They looked so much harder and fuller than last year. "Tell me about the porn you watch, Rose. Tell me about your deepest, darkest desires." "I– I–" my mind was growing hazy as the room seemed to be getting smaller. The air seemed thicker, warmer. And then suddenly it clicked. "What did you just call me?" "Rose," Jim smiled. "My dirty, little Rose" "How did you–" "It wasn't that hard to figure out. The way your eyes always gravitate towards the biggest man in the room." "That's not true–" "Isn't it though? How big do I have to get for your eyes to finally land on me?" "Is that why you've started taking steroids?" I asked. "So you've noticed." Jim lowered both arms behind his back, clasping them so the bloated muscle in his triceps would pop. "How could I not? No one packs on this much muscle in six days." He chuckled. "I haven't taken anything since I played for the St. Louis Cardinals back in the 90s. This is something else entirely." "Daddy–" Jim groaned and I rushed forward. "Oh fuck, what's wrong. You're not having a heart attack are you?" "What? Jesus, fuck no! Just say it again!" I took a step back. Confused. "Say what?" "Daddy. Fuck! Call me Daddy." I smirked as I moved back in front of him. My hands brushed across his chest. "Is that all it takes, Daddy?" Jim let out a groan as his entire body shuddered. Sure, I'd written about this kind of stuff before, but seeing it actually happen? My eyes widened as my chin started to lift– watching Jim as he straightened to his new, full height. "That's the look I've been waiting for. Am I big enough now?" He thought he had the upper hand here, but the mistake he made was giving me the power and control over his growth. I think he realized that– too little, too late. A wicked gleam flashed across my face. "Not even close–" I paused. My grin went lopsided as the evil streak started to show. "Daddy." I almost mouthed the word, in a sultry, seductive whisper. I said it again. And again. And again. "Rose," he growled. There was so much muscle packing on to his body. "You have to fucking stop." His much thicker and stronger fingers wrapped around my upper arm. His forearms bordered on freakish, the rest of him monstrous. He was doubled over, chest heaving– abs bloating into rock hard slabs. The floor creaked as his legs readjusted a thousand times. The denim looked comical as his quads and calves fought for space. In a matter of seconds he had swelled into a super heavyweight bodybuilder. I had planned to keep going until he hulked out of his clothes, and by the look of them, they were barely hanging on by a thread. "Just one more," I begged. His hand moved to cover my mouth but I was just too damn fast. "Daddy." His body and the growth spurt did not disappoint. The gray polo shirt that was struggling to contain those arms and that chest suddenly ripped where the fabric formed a V. Two juicy, meaty pecs flopped out followed by the flexing of his big, powerful and massive guns. His jeans and boxers followed suit in an explosive matter of their own. Denim and cotton laid at his feet. "Fuck, baby girl. What did you do to me?" His voice, so much deeper now, caused me to shiver. I greedily drank in his arm as he lifted his hand to my throat. Fingers bruising the soft skin, he forced me out of the kitchen and into his bedroom. With one hand he grabbed me and tossed me on the bed. He stood at the edge for a moment, looking down at the hard swollen muscles. Experimenting. Flexing. Exploring. But he realized it would feel so much better with my mouth and hands. Jim laid down and rolled me on top of himself, holding me tightly with those bigger hands and stronger arms. I felt his hands slide down my back to my ass before grabbing and rolling my hips into his erection. He was in total control as he started to kiss my neck and remove my clothes. In the past, he had always been gentle, but not tonight. Daddy fisted my shirt with both hands and ripped that fabric open. I was about to curse when he silenced me with his warm mouth on my breasts. He was so much bigger now, able to manhandle me with the greatest of ease. In seconds he had my nipples hard and solid. I decided it was time to return the favor. I gripped those huge, rock-hard boulder shoulders and lifted my head to kiss his chest. He lingered for a moment, enjoying the feel of my fingers dancing across his skin, but then he moved on. Kissing my tummy as his hands started to play with the waistband of my leather skirt. He stopped suddenly, brown eyes turning up towards me. "You're not wearing any–" he choked on the word and I couldn't help but smirk. "Panty lines," I shrugged. "Goddamn," he growled, then slid the skirt past my ankles before tossing it somewhere in the room. "Oh god," I writhed. I had forgotten what an expert he was at eating me out. Tongue sliding around my clitoris while his hand fingered my hole. He looked up at me as I grew wetter and wetter. "You taste so fucking good!" He growled so deeply it rattled my clit. Gradually climbing back on top of me, Jim pressed his cock into me as he crawled. "Oh fuck, you're so big." "And you, baby girl, are so tight." With his upper body on top of me, he penetrated me slowly– passionately. I think he was relishing in the difference of our size. His arms wrapped around me, easily crushing me to his massive chest. I couldn't help but moan as he started to pound harder, faster, deeper. I kissed him as he pulled his cock all the way out before burying it deep within. My pussy pulsated– tightened. Jim flexed as I gritted my teeth, his lats flaring so wide he was the only thing I saw. He clenched his ass and I prepared myself for the pleasure. "Cum for me. Now!" He roared. I did just as he said, both of us moaning loudly in sync. With one final thrust, he fucked me so deep his balls slapped against my ass. Jim fell to his side, taking me with him. His cock still resting inside. He wasn't done yet, I realized, as his large hand squeezed my chest. His other moved back to my pussy– Ring finger relentlessly circling my clit. Almost immediately my body started to shake. "Daddy," I whimpered. I grabbed hold of his wrist, much like I had done in the past. But this time he was too big– too strong for me to push away. His wrist expanded in my grip as he growled deeper and loudly in my ear. I squirted all over his hand and the bed, then watched as he brought the wetness up to his mouth to taste. His eyes rolled back and without warning he started thrusting his hips again. His lips and tongue traced the sweat that dripped down my neck. As his chest pressed against my back, his arms wrapped around my waist. "Daddy," I whispered again. I felt him cum deep inside me a second time as his body exploded with more growth, more size and more power. His cock stretched my cunt to its limits, but if felt so damn good as it brushed deeper inside. He hesitated for a moment, before asking me to crawl on top. He knew he was even bigger now. Grunting and growling while he looked down and bounced his pecs. But he also knew only I could grant him the worship he wanted. I sat down, slowly easing his fat cock inside me. A wicked grin, once again flashing across my face. "Make no mistake, you're my plaything now. I might be the little one here, but I will force you to grow. You're going to get so big and strong for me, you'll beg me to stop. But I can't. And I won't. Don't worry though, I know just how to treat my toys–" Jim looked terrified, realization that he'd fucked up written all across his face. He started to sit up. His hand locked around my wrist. Leaning forward he held his breath. "Daddy."
  2. Chapter One "ALL FOR ONE AND ONE FOR ALL!" As Francois, James and Larry all held the pose, the selfie timer clicked and posted the photo of "The Apprentice Musketeers (NFSW)" onto their Only Fans account and as the likes and tips came rolling in, James chuckled saying "And you though me creating a fantasy account combing naked Musketeers wouldn't make any money!" Larry and Francois laughed as James chuckled "Without it what we are going to do tonight would be impossible. We three are going to travel back to 1642 and become bone fide Musketeers under the tutelage of those brave men we know Henri and Porthos, you never know we might get to meet Aramis and Athos as well, although just so you know Athos is a bear and Aramis is straight as a railroad!" "Shame" replied Larry, "I'd like to show him my red rose!" and with that pretended to ram Francois who pretended to moan "Hide your thorns for I am lost and forlorn" poking fun at one of Aramis's poems that Henri had told them about. As James set about entering the last of the calculations needed to transport them to 1642, he chuckled "And the best part is, the Terminator movies were right, clothes can survive time travel, so we'll arrive naked as well!" *** "Oh, mon chere" moaned Porthos, "the waiting is driving me crazy, I cannot stand it any longer" and with that he dived under Henri's bed, grunted "Lie on it, mon chere" and as Henri did so Porthos raised the whole bed weighing, with his husband on it, some four hundred livres, ten times in a row, holding it at the top of the lift and allowing Henri to note "Mmm, there appears to be something eating the wood in the ceiling, best let the Captain now about that soon!" As Porthos lowered the bed for the tenth time, he suddenly yelped and rolled out stating "That metal ball at the end made me yelp!" "Ah" smiled Henri, as his hair started to stand on end, "I think our guests are arriving" and sure enough a large ball object arrived in front of them that slowly dissipated to reveal James, Larry and Francois, all completely naked and thanks to their incredible machine, now in 1642 and even more muscular than they were. As the three slowly stood up they all flexed their muscles and caused Porthos to moan "Oh, mon dieu, muscles!" and he instantly prostrated himself and cried "My lords, I am not worthy of your presence!" "Yeah!" moaned Francois, hitting a side chest, "You love us this big don't you? Yeah, between us we have a combined mass of 650lbs of lean, powerful, masculine muscle!" "And we are going to use every single bit of it" added Larry, flexing his glutes "Indeed" smiled James, making his quads bulge, "by the end of this week we are going to be Musketeers" and as he relaxed panted "Are our applications in order?" Henri nodded as he handed a parchment over and added "Nothing, bar your deaths, can prevent you taking the..." Henri's sudden stop caused Porthos to look up and as he did he asked "Are you alright?" "Mon chere?" asked Henri, a note of concern in his voice, "Is it me or are my feet disappearing?" "Your feet?" exclaimed James and as he looked down he gasped "No...oh, no, please...Henri, how much you do weigh?" "275 livres, why do you ask?" "And Porthos?" "375 livres" he grunted, thumping his chest, "375 livres of solid man!" "Six hundred and fifty" stammered James and then and then added "No, this wasn't meant to happen!" "What wasn't meant to happen?" asked Henri, his knees now joining his feet in disappearing "The universe hates things changing" explained James, "so when we moved ourselves from 2042 to 1642, that meant that our time was 650lbs lighter and your time was 650lbs heavier, so the universe is compensating by taking 650lbs from 1642 and putting it into 2042, but it was supposed to do so by taking that fatso you told me about recently" "Oh, you mean the brother of the Earl of Exeter?" replied Henri, now vanished up to his waist, "he died last week!" and then suddenly started to grunt in pain. However as Porthos went to help him, he found himself rooted to the spot and his feet disappearing too. "Please, mon amis" wailed James, "you're our mass substitutes, please believe me, I didn't want this to happen!" "You are forgiven, mon amis" replied Porthos as the two men screamed in agony as they completely vanished with a bang leaving two scorch marks on the floor. As Larry, James and Francois looked at each other James whimpered "The Test starts tomorrow, and we have no coaches"
  3. londonboy

    A General Increase (Parts 1-6)

    The man wrote the number forty-five on the calendar page sitting on the desk and then circled it three times. He stared at what he had jotted down for a long time. It seemed so far away, but after anticipating that day for so many years, what was another month and a half. Pages were quickly flipped – like a movie scene where you move into the future. The turning stopped on a page that was covered in hand drawn stars and the word ‘retirement’ underlined about seven times. The man’s finger ran across the word lovingly – or hesitantly. And then, just as quickly, the pages were moved back to the present date. General Artemis (Art) David Scala returned to the forms on his desk. Paperwork that required his signature. As he put pen to paper, the desk wobbled, causing the man’s signature to go wildly off the line. An expletive was muttered under his breath and then Art slid back his chair and carefully bent forward to readjust the piece of cardboard that had come loose from under one of the legs. He knew that one false move could make his back go out, which usually caused him to hit his head on the metal piece of furniture he had been battling for seventeen years. Once the cardboard had been wedged in place, the General slowly returned to a sitting position – careful to not twist the wrong way. He glanced at his signature – terribly askew – and contemplated asking his assistant, Private Ron Sanders, to print out another copy of the page, but he realized that this was just his obsessive compulsiveness about things being neat and tidy getting the best of him. He glanced at his clock and saw that it was almost time to go down to the lab. “Ron!” “Yes, General.” “Jesus! You scared me. What were you doing – hanging out by the door?” “Yes sir. I saw what time it was.” Damn, this kid was a great assistant. It almost unnerved the General how Ron could anticipate almost everything that his boss would need – from bringing coffee mere seconds before a request was going to be made to opening the office door right when said coffee had run its course and a bathroom was needed. Coffee did that to the General – well, coffee and his age. A need to pee could come on with little warning, but Ron always seemed to be one step ahead and ready to make the General’s dash always successful. A brawny twenty-one-year-old who’s six-foot frame always made Art feel a little intimidated – even though his uniform had so many stars every soldier on the base snapped to attention in his presence. Ron was definitely the son Art Scala had never had. The General, however, never played favorites and, if asked, Ron probably would have said his boss barely noticed him. That was far from the truth. “I have all those papers, here, for you.” “Yes sir,” the young man said as he stepped to the desk to take the folder. “Any news from the lab?” “I’m afraid so, sir. It seems the tests, today, did not go well. Dr. Brown called the latest round a complete failure and thinks they’ll have to return to the drawing board and start over.” “Damn, damn, damn. I bet that put Martha is a terrible mood. I almost want to skip going down there to talk to her.” Martha Brown was brilliant. Art Scala had personally requested she be hired for this job. She was also as much of a perfectionist as he was. She had been working feverishly for six years to find a way to enhance fossil fuels. To make natural gas – what she called – a hundred times stronger than it already was. She wanted to somehow make it last longer, do more work with less effort, to basically become ‘super’ powered. Another setback in her work would not only be discouraging for her, but it was going to make the Pentagon take a closer look at the continually failed work she was doing. Art knew that in forty-five days he would no longer be here to defend her. Whoever was put in his place would probably side with the powers that be and her project would no longer be funded. “I might as well get this over with. Let’s go to the lab, Ron.” “Yes sir.” Art Scala had turned sixty-eight two weeks ago. He had put off retirement for three years in hopes that Martha Brown would have some success. He knew he couldn’t put it off again. Even at retirement age, the General was what the girls in the front office called ‘a catch.’ He was a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, bull of a man with graying temples that only made him more handsome. He could still command respect just from entering the room, but he also knew his king-of-the-pack days were almost over. It took him a lot longer to recover from a cold, he ached for days after a hard workout, and getting out of bed without any aches and pains was impossible. It was time for some younger buck to take the lead at this base. They were a secret facility out in the middle of a desert that was out in the middle of nowhere. Hell, Art didn’t think he could find the place if he didn’t come and go in a helicopter with an excellent pilot. The General didn’t know what it would be like to live back among civilians – in a regular city. He knew he was going to find out in a few months, though. He paused briefly at the door to the lab. Ron, knowingly, waited for his boss to be ready. With a heavy sigh, the General opened the door and went in – followed by his assistant. “What’s the good news, Martha?” the General said when he saw the red-headed brilliant chemist coming towards him. She had been alone in the lab. “General, don’t patronize me. We both know you already heard we haven’t had success. You have the most efficient assistant on the planet. I will steal him one day. I’m really sorry, Art. You deserve better news.” “Oh Martha, you never were one to beat around the bush, were you. I’m sorry for you. What seemed to be the problem – and don’t use all that chemist jargon I don’t understand. Tell it to me in layman’s terms.” “My perfect enhancement formula doesn’t want to get it on with the fossil fuels. It’s like the football team captain is trying to seduce a devout lesbian that hates athletes. It’s like…” “I get the point,” the General said, smiling. “What if you threw in some alcohol? That always helps opposites attract.” “Not in this case, I’m afraid. I think alcohol would dull the power of the enhancement formula – it might not know how to ‘get it on,’ so to speak.” “Then you start over, Dr. Brown. Isn’t your motto “Now you know,” when something goes wrong?” “Yes, it is,” Martha said, smiling, “But we both know you have limited time here and I won’t have the big scary General to fight all the bureaucratic bullies anymore. I’m wondering if I might skip out before you do.” “Nonsense! Start again. Tonight, if you have too. I believe in you. Let’s keep fighting until we can’t anymore. I leave in forty-five days – that’s a lot of time. And the military might be very slow to replace me. You might even have six months to a year. Back to work, my dear.” “Um, Dr. Brown,” Ron said, after clearing his voice, causing both the General and the doctor to turn toward him with looks of surprise. It wasn’t like Ron to interject with a comment. “Have you tried the enhancement formula on anything else besides fossil fuels?” “Like what, Ron?” Martha asked. “I don’t know . . . supplements, foods . . . animals.” “Well, we have tried it on all of those things and more, except animals. We have not gotten clearance to test this on living things . . . well, except micro-organisms. So far, we’ve batted zero on everything. We did have some organisms that seemed to become different after we mixed the formula with them, but then they just returned to normal. It was very discouraging.” “I see,” said Ron, “Thank you.” “Martha, let’s chat a little about your next plan of attack,” the General said, glancing back at Ron – confused by his interruption. He moved Martha off to the side to chat with her, privately. Ron walked around the lab. He had learned a long time ago when his boss needed him to be invisible. And right now, that’s exactly what Ron wanted. He stood to the side, looking at all the testing materials while the General and the doctor spoke. Soon, the General turned and started to exit. Ron followed. When they were back in the hallway the General turned to his assistant. Ron was nervous that he was in trouble . . . that he had overstepped the boundaries. Artemis Scala put his arm around the younger man’s shoulder – something he had never done before. “How about you and I go have a drink at the Officer’s Club, First Lieutenant?” “I can’t go there, sir…” he began, but then he fully comprehended what the General was saying. “Any officer, approved for his promotion, but waiting for the paperwork, can accompany another officer into the club. Section blah, blah, blah of the official military rules on Officer’s Clubs. It came through today, son. Congratulations. You deserve it. I promised I would get this promotion for you before I left and, by god, I did. At least something good has happened today.” “I’m speechless, sir.” “That would be a first, Ron,” the General said, laughing and then they headed out. ********* “May I get the drinks, sir? It would please me a lot.” “Of course, Ron. I’ll have a double whiskey. I need something to make the day a little more tolerable.” Ron walked to the bar and ordered the drinks. He was nervous as hell, this being his first time in the Officer’s Club, but there seemed to be something more. He fumbled around the bar for a little longer than he would have liked, but the General had been busy talking to other officers when Ron got back – so he didn’t notice. Ron handed his boss his drink and there were beads of sweat gathering on his brow. The General thought it was adorable – watching his unflappable assistant become rattled just because he was around all the officers for the first time. They brought their glasses together, the General impressed that Ron asked for the same drink. “To your health,” Art said, smiling. “And to yours, sir,” Ron replied and they both took big gulps. ********* Ron loved the General. Wait – years of therapy had taught Ron to be more precise with his thoughts - Ron was in love with the General – deeply and hopelessly in love. The General counted down the days to his retirement with a little sadness, but mostly with excitement. Ron counted the days with nothing but despair – his own desk calendar marking the time left, as well. Whenever Ron contemplated his boss his hands unconsciously went up to his own nipples and he scraped them with his thumbnails and pinched them hard. Fur covered pecs – seen with secret, furtive glances at the gym. A deep, gravelly voice that made Ron’s ass tighten. A wide he-man bubbled butt, which still ignored gravity even at his age. Thick legs that looked as sturdy as trees. A face that perpetually had a five-o’clock shadow. How could any gay man on earth not fall in love with this man. Of course, Ron had never let his feelings for the older man interfere with his work. Ron was the consummate professional when it came to his job. Everyone told him so. But when he was in the privacy of his own bungalow his desire for the General was not hidden. A stolen used jock kept sealed in a Ziploc bag and taken out for late night sniffing. A flannel shirt not washed since it was taken – worn to bed on cold nights so Ron’s bed smelled like the General. Multiple pictures snapped inconspicuously and printed on special photo paper so they’d last longer. Ron’s shrine to his boss. The private acknowledged and accepted how weird his actions were. He was always as honest with himself as possible. He was simply head-over-heels in love with General Artemis Scala. That’s why he had made the decision to help his boss. He knew the General was getting older. He could see how the love of his life had trouble sometimes rising from a low-sitting chair. He noticed the grimaces on his face the day after hard workouts. He could see that the General was tired. Ron didn’t question his decision to do something about it. He never doubted that he was supposed to find a way to make the General feel better. He even decided that being court-martialed for insubordination would be justified – in his mind – if he extended the vitality and the life of the man he would love forever. It was worth getting in trouble, if he could just help the General. That’s why Ron stole an entire vial of Martha Brown’s enhancement chemical while she was talking to the General. That’s why he had poured it into the glass of whiskey he had served the General that very evening. That’s why he now pinched his own nipples unconsciously looking into the bathroom mirror of the Officer’s Club after he had stepped away for a few minutes to calm down. The man of his dreams was going to be enhanced . . . or dead . . . within twenty-four hours. It was now just a waiting game.
  4. londonboy

    The Toy

    I loved watching his mouth open wide in shock. He couldn’t speak – hell, he probably couldn’t even think straight. He obviously wasn’t used to being manhandled so easily. I could feel his little heart beating a thousand times harder than it normally did. I didn’t need to look down; I knew his cock was rock hard. There was no way he couldn’t be turned on. I held his small body two feet off the floor. I had simply slid my hands into his pits and lifted – no knee bending, no waist bending – I merely lifted his entire body off the ground with my mouth-watering giant guns. Man, it was amazing how light some fellas could be. His weight barely registered to me. I would have guessed one fifty or one sixty – nothing higher. That was one arm curling weight for me. He also couldn’t believe a sixty-one year old man could be so big and so strong. In his mind, I was getting close to the age where I might be put out to pasture. Gazing at my body in bits and pieces he would have said the arms were of a twenty-year old. The chest, he would have guessed, belonged to some guy who was twenty-five or younger, but then the dusting of salt and pepper fur made him think differently. It’s when he looked into my face – the crow’s feet at the corner of my eyes, the slight wrinkles around my mouth, and the stunning silver blue hair that was my crowning glory – that’s when his little mind couldn’t compute the facts. It wasn’t time for me to sit in a rocker or keep a walker beside my bed – as he so quickly stereotyped older men. The kid was only twenty-one and it was his first time in the bar called ‘Silver’ – a place frequented by men similar to me. We were big older men looking for toys. And by toys, I didn’t mean dildos or slings. I meant younger little men we could play with like a kid with her or his dolls. We didn’t take men against their will; that was definitely not our style. We came to ‘Silver’ because it was like going into an electronics store on Black Friday – tons of toys came to the bar in hopes of being chosen by one of the elder giants. I came here every Saturday night. I’d down about ten beers, get a little buzzed, and then pick some saliva-dripping young thing from the crowd to take home and rock his world. I had a certain look that pleased me – the innocent little preppy kid. There was something about a trust-fund looking young man in khakis and a button-down that made me want to flex and dominate all night long. My dream toy was a rich little brat that couldn’t earn his dad’s love because he was gay and I’d come along, literally sweeping him off his feet, and take him home to offer him the kind of love he so desperately sought. Blessing some young pup with the attention and the affection he eagerly needed made me feel like some kind of muscled Robin Hood spreading joy throughout the village. The universe blessed me with the ability to pump my huge frame into something bulging and monstrous – so I kind of felt obligated to share that with others. At the same time, it got my juices boiling so hot that I felt like I could blast a boy-toy all the way to the ceiling – just from the power of my gusher. That made it a win-win situation in my opinion. The toy I presently held in the air was like a wish come true. He had on an adorable pink Polo button-down (PINK!), some butt-hugging Chino’s, and loafers with no socks. Loafers with no socks – it didn’t get any better than that! He had on a watch that cost more than a Hummer and used a money clip with his initials engraved in it. It was like the bar Gods had decided to bless me with the perfect plaything. What clinched it for me was when I asked him what he did for a living and he got confused. I finally had to ask what his job was and the heavens parted with angels singing when he told me he didn’t have to work. I asked if he had a rich daddy and he simply nodded his head. I swear – that one little nod made my cock shoot hard. I asked if his pops would have approved of him being at the ‘Silver’ and he made me ooze lots of pre when he said no. I was by far the biggest daddy at ‘Silver.’ Other men who frequented the place were muscled and large – but my bulges popped out much more than any other regular patron. It kind of made me like Zeus at Mount Olympus – all the other gods looked up to me and gave way to me when needed. This particular night I had decided to come directly from the gym. I knew my sweat-covered body – now partially dried – would give off pheromones that would permeate throughout the entire bar. I would make everyone in the place go a little stiff just by walking in. I had also learned a long time ago that my testosterone-laden aroma made smaller men actually become light headed whenever I drew near. I loved that my daddy-ness could make toys weak in the knees. When I had entered the bar this evening, I paused in the doorway just to let all the heads that turned my direction have time to soak up all the muscled goodness. I counted a total of seven gaping mouths – only those in close proximity – fellas unable to hide their lust-filled shock. Forget about gaydar – I possessed something better. I had little-preppy-man radar. I could hone in on a cream-filled, Lacoste-loving, prep-school beauty quicker than most men could blink. It was like I had a sixth sense of which man in the room would love my senior-aged giant muscled body the most and who would please my particular toy fetish completely. I didn’t even scan the room once. I immediately picked up on the pup’s Polo-cologne infused scent even though the bar was completely packed. His smallness made me growl out loud – causing a group of toys standing by to actually quiver a little in fear. I quickly glanced at his petite hands – knowing that before the night was over I would beg him to interlock fingers and without even applying any pressure I would make him squeal in delighted pain. Oh fuck, he was gorgeous. A twenty-nine inch waist, about five feet five inches tall, perfect hair that was clearly cut every week, and size seven shoes – not even large enough for my big toe. And then there was the cherry on the top – a winter tan, obviously from a rich-boy trip to somewhere exotic. To make things even sweeter – the poor little dude was clearly nervous as a rabbit that stumbles into a den of foxes. There were three elder musclemen who had cornered him against one end of the bar – each with a ravenous look in their eyes. They smelled fresh meat and were surely plying the toy with beer in hopes he would soon choose a victor. I looked down at my ‘Daddy’s Got Muscle’ skin-hugging tank top, rolled my beefy hard pecs a couple times, and then headed over to claim my prize. Moses, with his measly parting of the sea, had nothing on me. As soon as I was about ten feet from the party happening at the end of the bar, the other three men either felt my presence or were overpowered by my pheromones before I even stood among them and they quickly moved away. One of them was clearly in mid-sentence, but it didn’t matter. They all knew the alpha was drawing near. The bartender had a beer waiting for me near the small pup as soon as I arrived – he instinctively knew where I was going to park my huge frame. I swear I could feel my balls gurgling with hot cum when I stood in front of the small prepster. He was so short his lips were even with my plug-sized nips. I made sure to stand close enough so he had to lean his head way back to look up at me. As it was, he could barely see over my protruding pec shelf. I reached out beside the dude, to grab my beer, and he actually flinched in fear. Oh fuck, he was already intimidated and I hadn’t done a damn thing. I had pity on the small thing and stepped back a little – just so he didn’t get a neck cramp. I flexed my gun purposefully as I took a giant swig of my beer – the dude’s eyes widening when he noticed that half the liquid in the bottle disappeared. I quickly calculated all the things that were perfect about this youngster. Skinny as a rail – check, flat and hairless narrow chest – check, arms that looked like twigs next to mine – check, nymph-like face that clearly couldn’t grow a full beard to save his life – check, and eyes the size of dinner plates because he was so freaked out by what was standing in front of him – double check. If I hadn’t been such a strong elder muscleman I would have been spewing something fierce just from all of his tiny perfectness. I towered over the toy. He looked like a one level house next to a skyscraper. And then there was the size difference – with him looking like Bruce Banner and I easily resembled the morphed-into Hulk when he became angry. Again, I looked at his demure manicured hands – obviously, they had never seen a day of hard labor. I knew they would feel so small, weak, and fragile in my big calloused hands. That thought sent a shiver down my entire huge body. Why did tiny hands turn me on so much? And thin, weak-looking necks – they made me feel the same way. My huge paw would almost wrap completely around the bird-like stem between his head and body. My mind imagined lifting him into the air that way – a thought that, again, almost sent me over the edge. It was clear by the look on his face he was on sensory overload. I got the feeling he had never been this close to such a huge muscle daddy before. His body had never seen the inside of a gym – that was a given – but it seemed the little rich boy had also never had the opportunity to be around such bulging muscles for any other reason, as well. He was like a kid let loose in a candy shop. He didn’t know where to let his gaze stick for longer than a few seconds. It was painfully obvious that he wanted to take in all of my hugeness as quickly as possible. I looked down, again, and noticed his little hands were trembling. The beer bottle he held was shaking back and forth a little. Aw, the toy was overwhelmed by big old me. I tensed my chest – making the pecs swell so much it cut off part of his view of my face. His mouth dropped open wide and he stopped breathing. I quickly released the tense – afraid I might give him a heart attack. I reached up with one finger and pushed up on his chin – closing his mouth, which made him remember to breathe. Seeing how huge my forefinger was next to his chin thrilled me almost as much as touching his smooth soft skin. Years of lifting and reaching my sixties had made my skin hard and leather-like, something other men seemed to love, but I got more excited by soft, un-muscled skin that seemed so weak compared to mine. If I asked this little dude to flex his gun I had a feeling there wouldn’t have been even the slightest bump to his biceps. I’m sure his legs were like sticks – tiny enough to be crushed by one of my hands. I had to again pull myself back from the edge – all of these thoughts were turning me on so much I was soon going to explode. I took another swig of my beer and finished it – again, causing my audience of one little man to be stunned. Another bottle was already waiting for me on the bar and this time, the dude didn’t flinch when I reached past his head. His eyes were glued to my humongous arm as I raised it to take a drink. Again, I flexed my giant gun just to give him a thrill. He was actually in control of himself enough to take a sip of his own beer. I was instantly pleased by how his little Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when he took what I would consider a tiny drip of his beverage. I could probably finish my ten beers before he even made it through one. Holy hell, everything about this little dude thrilled me beyond words. I finally decided it was time to speak and I asked him his name. I immediately oozed more pre-cum when he said, in what almost sounded like a pre-pubescent falsetto voice, that his name was Winston. A preppy name to go with the whole ensemble – that was just too much. I had a feeling he was a third or fourth, too – or, at least, a junior. He somehow managed to get enough courage to ask me my name and I kind of leaned down and told him to call me Big Poppa. His hands immediately trembled even more and I swear I saw his crotch twitch with excitement. My little one certainly had a daddy fetish and that made my night complete. I asked him his age and that’s when he told me he was twenty-one. That’s when I decided to shock him and told him I was exactly forty years older than him. As I said before, I knew this simple information would be almost too much for him to handle. I glanced down at his crotch and was rewarded with what I knew would be his response – a small wet stain from not being able to prevent pre-cum from spurting. It seemed we both had the same problem. I asked him if he thought his Big Poppa looked sixty-one and he couldn’t even answer. He was just too flabbergasted. I told him that when I was twenty-one I had been the arm-wrestling champ of my small town. I then told him I still held the title today. This made him take an impressively long gulp of his beer – but his hands were shaking even more. When he was done, I decided to play with him some more. I asked him if he liked older men and he, again, could only nod his head in response. I smiled – something that made him moan a little. I then asked him if he liked his men strong and this time he wasn’t even able to nod his head. His eyes got wider – an answer ‘yes’ if I had ever seen one and he was forced to take another sip of his drink. I was ready to take our new friendship to a new level. And that’s when I put my drink on the counter, reached down to grab him by the pits, and easily lifted him into the air. I could feel his feet kicking back and forth. Fuck, that turned me on. Even if he had wanted to escape, there would have been nothing he could have done to get away. I held the toy in my hands – a doll for my pleasure. I, again, marveled at how light the guy was. It was as if he had never even once come close to hitting his allocated calories for the day. I was pretty sure I weighed almost thee times as much as him. I had this sudden urge to hug him – to hug him really tight. I knew it would crush something if I did, but that didn’t make the urge go away. I simply knew better and didn’t do it. My thick fingers and thumbs seemed to stretch halfway across his chest and back. My little preppy boy seemed so fragile – like thin crystal or something even more delicate. His smallness, at the same time, made me feel enormous and much more powerful than I really was. Holding my toy in my hands – for I did now view him as MY toy – made me feel invincible, like a superhero. I had such a strong desire to take care of my toy – to protect him, take care of him, and do everything for him. God, the idea of him never needing a thing again – except those things I would give him - turned me on more than I could have ever imagined. There was something special about this toy. I couldn’t quite place it, but I had a strange feeling I would stick with this particular one for a long time – maybe even forever. I was overwhelmed by my sudden protective feelings for the little guy. I took a step forward and sat him on the bar. I moved my body in between his legs, grabbed my beer, and still I gazed down into his face – even though the height of the bar made him a lot closer to my level. This time, I took a really long gulp of my beer – emptying it quickly. Another one was sitting on the bar next to my toy before I even placed the old one down. Damn, it was good to know bartenders. The toy had brought his tiny looking hand up to my right biceps and he was feeling the mound as if he were handling some precious ancient artifact. I bent my wrist and tensed the arm – just to make it swell up even harder. His hand froze with his fingers pressed against my hard giant knob of muscle and he gasped out loud. I kept my arm tensed and he slowly started groping the biceps even more – like it was some kind of life force that gave him energy. I looked at how minuscule his hand looked next to my monstrous arm. His fingers turned me on so much – just because they looked so slight and weak. How did this guy not easily get broken or damaged? It seemed like a strong wind could have blown him away. All of these thoughts, however, only made me want him more. I wanted to be the beast to his beauty. I wanted my body to offer him tons of shade when the sun was beating down hot. I wanted to intimidate anyone stupid enough to bully or mistreat my little toy. I needed to be his muscle god and I needed it more than anything in the world. That’s when I did something I had never done with one of my toys before. I leaned in and kissed the man. Kisses were only saved for special people. I pressed my mouth against his and sucked in hard – hoping to inhale some of whatever it was about him that drove me crazy. His body seemed to deflate, so I exhaled quickly. I also ran my big hands up his back and pulled his body into mine – smashing his flimsy frame against all of my hardness. I could actually feel his hard cock poking into my tight-as-hell abs. To say the kiss excited me would have been the understatement of the year. I had never known emotions like this before. This little man, my new favorite toy, was slaying the big giant without doing a damn thing but be delicate. None of this made me feel weak or frail, though. On the contrary, I continued to feel more powerful than ever. I felt my hugeness in a new way. The giant wooden bar my toy sat on seemed small and fragile. Other big men standing near me suddenly seemed like Hobbits compared to me. Even my lovely toy seemed to shrink into something I could cuddle in my hands – like a kitten. Of course, all of this was only a feeling – but it was the most alive and the most energized I had ever felt in my entire life. It took all of my strength to pull my head back and separate our lips. I wanted to stay intimately connected to the little man, but I had a strange suspicion I would have quickly orgasmed. It was uncanny to feel so weak and, yet, so powerful at the same time. I looked down into the face of my precious toy and was enormously surprised to see him smiling. It was the first time he wasn’t shaking or looking scared. This made me happy. This made me feel even more powerful than I already did. Making this beautiful man smile seemed like the only thing in the world I was destined for. I smiled back – and it was the most genuine smile I had ever offered. I smiled because I felt happier than ever – ever in my entire life, and I had had a wonderful life so far. This adorable beloved little man made me feel like the luckiest man on the planet. I was lost in the black hole of complete adoration. I was now this little toy’s devoted protector. And that pleased me very much. His smile intrigued me – so I was brave and asked him what had brought such a lovely man into the bar on that particular Saturday night. I will never forget his answer. Winston looked deep into my eyes and said, “I had heard there was a beautiful monstrous older giant here who loved small men and I decided to come in and find out if I could win his heart.”
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