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The Prelude to this story may be found HERE The preceding chapter of this story may be found HERE * * * PREFACE The initial part of this chapter is unusually violent, at least implicitly so. Sensitive readers be warned. This segment of the story is crucial to the narrative structure. The author do not defend rape or domestic abuse. My Hulk-daddy is Paying Chapter Ten 'Hanced now. BIG. His titanic presence had left the ModPod, anabolic power still surging through his muscle fibres, flowing through his veins. Had watched himself in a mirror and almost cummed. His big hand caressed his vein-covered incomprehensibly big muscles. Entered the suite he shared with Sir ... Shared with the little cunt. The old runt waited for him with an expectant smile and eager gaze. "Look at you! Look at you! I will assiduously engage in adulatory blandishment in the most sesquipedalian of manners. I’m overwhelmed!” He was BIG now. HE was Sir now, and the little cunt deserved a ride on his manhood. No greeting. No pleasantries. Straight to the essentials: "Kneel." His voice sounded like the sound of a sub-woofer now. He took his terrycloth gown off and threw it away, revealing his vein-covered massive presence. YEAH: VEIN-COVERED MASSIVE PRESENCE. He stood there, imposing, with his brutal and obscenely bulging thighs wide apart in an assertive stance, and watched the little cunt obey him. Yeah! His dominant Alpha-ness had manifested and asserted itself, forcing the obedience of lesser men ... The little silver-haired fragile old runt between his legs, fumbling, struggling to swallow his manhood and failing, because of the girth of his telescopic man-cannon ... His dick throbbing ... His entire body throbbing, because of the aftermath of the 'Hancing-process ... The scent of Alpha musk in the room ... the scent of pre-cum ... His anger rising, because the cunt wasn't able to give head ... lifting the runt effortlessly, the runt moaning because of his display of strength and superhuman POWER ... Ripping the trousers off the runt – no time for pleasantries and romance and titillation and other tosh, because his will was focused on the goal of immediate and total RELEASE ... so the old wanker had to excuse, because Brad Maxxx wanted maximum release, and Brad Maxxx was a Bad Boy Alpha ... the old cunt had even payed for Brad Maxxx to become a Bad Boy Alpha, and he would get it ... Yeah, he would get it all ... The old cunt screamed when Brad entered, and screamed when Brad adjusted the position of the toff on Brad's man-pole, like a piece of pork on a skewer ... Look! No hands! Even his dick was insanely strong and muscular now, carrying the weight of a baseline man on its own, though admittedly a tiny and insignificant baseline man ... When Brad began to throb (and throb harder, throb more intensely) the cunt screamed again, but it didn't matter, because Brad was in charge, and Brad was the dominant Alpha, and Brad was BIG now, and Brad's man-meat was like a homing missile now, with the target set on total release, and the old cunt asked for it ... Yeah: Sir would have what he wished for ... Here it was: An 8 foot veiny Hulk-like behemoth with a dominant Bad Boy Alpha mindset, just as ordered, and this dominant Bad Body Alpha throbbed very hard now, throbbed very intensely now, and felt his Hulk-like POWER circulate in his veins and all his muscle fibres, because he was ... Uh! He was ... YES! SOON! ... throbbing Alpha ... HE WAS THE STRONGEST MAN IN THE WORLD!!!!!!!! * * * When he woke up Sir wasn't there. At first, it didn't alarm him. The bathroom perhaps. They could both need to use the bathroom. Then he felt hungry. Without waiting for the frail toff, Brad lifted the phone and ordered a 'hancer-sized breakfast, and return to doze. He woke up again and watched the news. Something about King George VII meeting Joseph I, King of Scots, and then something about wood-based plastics. He switched the screen off. Room service. Breakfast. So hungry after his final 'hancing. No sign of Sir. Then a knock. He didn't bother to dress. Naked in all his ultra-masculine glory he opened the door and received three envelopes. Strange. A document, largely written in incomprehensible legalese. "... on behalf of our client, Dr. Oxford-Cambridge ... not press charges, unless the individual known as Mr. Maxxx refuse to sign the non-disclosure document ..." What the fukk? A hand-written letter: "I'm sorry Brad. I'm sorry for what you did to me, and what I did to you. It wasn't a good idea after all, only an ill-advised attempt to turn a daydream real. Do you even remember, that you raped me? My lawyer tells me, that I would be prosecuted according to the Illegal Enhancing Act, enacted by the Canterbury Parliament, if I pressed charges against you. What do you say about parting of our ways, and leaving each other alone? I have arranged for a return ticket to any destination in the world, if you ask for it in the waiting area – aeroplane or zepp, whichever you prefer. Let my lawyer know where to send your remaining belongings. Some days it was fun, wasn't it? Yours sincerely Hulk-daddy" A message from the lobby: "Dear Mr. Maxxx, Until told otherwise, you will remain in your suite. A nurse will ensure, that you don't suffer any adverse medical effects of last day's 'hancing. The company is aware of last night's events, and Dr. Oxford-Cambridge has been brought to hospital. An enhanced guard will be stationed outside your door, until the legal position of the situation has been clarified. Dr. Korsakoff" Confusion. Contradictory feelings. Legal position? Rape? He wasn't a bad person ... He didn't ... The dawning comprehension ... The rising guilt ... The other feeling rising: No one tells this fukking awesome Alpha Bad Boy what to do ... Was it himself, or was it the mind-implant Sir wanted installed inside his mind? No money from his Hulk-daddy anymore? The following days were a haze, and afterwards he didn't remember them particularly well. No adverse medical effects. No sight of Sir. No opportunity to apologise or say farewell. Ticket to New Vancouver. Trouble to enter the Federation of Cascadia without a passport and a smartwatch, until the border authority took his fingerprints. Told him he was Maximilian Brzęczyszczykiewicz. Didn't feel right. Didn't remember any Maximilian Brzęczyszczykiewicz. He was Brad Maxxx, the strongest man in the world. The days. The weeks. The months. A journalist seeking him. Refusing the journalist. Non-disclosure document. No flat. No phone. No watch. No one paying for his a-Gram account anymore. Sleeping rough. A rush or two when other Bad Boys picked a fight and he won. The pain and the hunger. Shelters were not dimensioned to feed 'Hancers who didn't feed their muscles properly. Guilt. Denied admission to his usual shelter after a fight with a 'hanced veteran. Dark night. Rain. Soaked. End his life? Nothing mattered. Pain and hunger. Guilt. Dark. Soaked. Dark. A kid on a bench watching a vintage commercial. A platinum blond 'hanced giant with an aesthetic physique wearing a He-Man costume shouting: "I have the power!" A fragment of a forgotten memory stirring. Hot 'hancer-guy. Seen him before. * * * A pleasant male voice answering: "Nelson." "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It must be in the middle of the night where you are, too, but I don't know who to call. My name is Brad Maxxx. 'Hancing has made a mess of my life. You are so darned impressive, and I don't know if anyone else can help me." He let out a sob. * * * Next chapter may be found HERE

The Prelude may be found HERE The preceding chapter may be found HERE PREFACE The content of this chapter will become easier to understand, if you have read my story Descent into Growth, which may be found HERE. My Hulk-daddy is Paying Chapter Nine Not quite right, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what was not quite right. Rob felt good. Body felt good. Been afraid of the chamber. Worried for the well-being of Doc, his trusted superior. Worried for the mental state of Mr. V, his employer. Worried for Nate, his newfound friend. The one who had become a more central part of Rob's life, than he had initially expected. Rob felt good. Body felt good. Been afraid of the chamber. Wary of Nate initially: A brash, cocky working-class fighter, but Rob had gradually warmed up to him as the research-project proceeded. Tentatively finding common ground: Their age, of course ... Wartime childhoods ... Both dads dead in the war ... Ambivalence towards their employer ... Nate giving Rob some training advice ... Cocky Nate showing Rob new exercises, how to perform them properly ... Nate's hand on Rob's shoulder, hand on chest, explaining ... Fighter hand of a fighter lad on the tiny and shy lab assistant's shoulder and chest ... Confiding their shared fascination of muscles – BIG MUSCLES, growing muscles – to each other ... Not the disimpassioned interest of Doc, but a curiosity, and urge ... Nate and Rob looking for pics of old bodybuilders and strongmen before the war ... Discussing the build of the new sort of hyper marines, who had won the war ... Discussing films and comics about HUGE heroes, preferably brave ones ... Rob embarrassed when Nate without shame talked about MONSTER STRENGTH and fights, and even more embarrassed, when he found himself aroused by the thought ... Looking trough Doc's archive of scanned physiques ... The possibilities with Morphogenetic Fields ... Taking a swim or two together ... Getting some sun on those young bodies marked by years of rationing ... Nate's eagerness to become big ... "I wish I was more like you, Nate." And the surprisingly insightful answer, which caused him to love him so much: "You don't, Robbie. You wish you were more like how you imagine me to be." Not quite right, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what was not quite right. The hug. Rob blushing, ruddy cheeks contrasting to his platinum blond hair ... The brown gemstones that were Nate's eyes gazing at Rob's icy blue eyes, and embracing Rob in his powerful embrace ... Uh! Powerful embrace! Hugged by his hero-friend ... It was the pay, that had convinced them initially, well, mostly ... Eventually they admitted to each other, that Mr. V had found them both online at a website about exercise, strength-sports, films about muscle growth, comics about muscle growth, stories about muscle growth ... Rob's oft repeated joke: ... a repressed middle-class chap and an oppressed working-class lad working for an upper-class madman ... Rob felt good. Body felt good. Been afraid of the chamber. And then the weird, insane days ... The dreamlike, nightmarish, frightening and wonderful days ... Nate and Mr. V taking turns in the chamber at dangerously increasing levels ... Rob having a bad cold, which turned out to be the DNA-altering virus ... His ambivalent feelings ... Betrayed by his now mentally unstable friend Nate holding him while Mr. V gave him an injection and a buzzcut ... Had been able to deactivate two of the mind-implanters. Hadn't been able to deactivate the two mind-implanters Mr. V had hidden somewhere else. Ambivalent feelings ... Rob felt good. Body felt good. Been afraid of the chamber. But now ... Body felt good ... Muscles ... His instincts caused him to shiver pleasantly, expectant, while his reason silently screamed inside him about the dangers and the lack of caution ... Muscles ... lump in his throat ... body sweating profusely ... muscles like Nate ... muscles like his heroes ... to become able to use the strength of hyper marines or comics characters to help people ... His reason to be wary of Doc's prototype ... His instincts and his urge taking it all in ... Allowing the anabolic emmitters and the hypertrophic coils do their work on him ... on his body ... on his physique ... on his – UH! – growing brawn ... He swallowed ... Not quite right, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what was not quite right. Mr. V had left training equipment inside the Test Chamber, in one of those unserious gestures ... dreamlike, Rob had picked up dumbbells he knew were far too heavy for him, and he was able to use them, lift them in a manner that demonstrated, that they actually were too light for him now... now, when he had reached another level ... Nate watching him outside, shouting encouraging things ... Rob standing inside, dressed like a boxer because of Mr. V's silly whims, but it didn't matter, because Rob felt good now. Body felt good. His visibly growing physique consisted of indurating, swelling globes of muscles ... His legs forced apart, because of his growing quads and hamstrings, forcing him to change posture ... Him, waddling to the bench, and pressing a barbell beyond his wildest dreams ... Lifting 1000 lbs! Big like Nate! Bigger than Nate! Lump in his troat ... swallowing ... He was anticipating ... waiting for the AI to activate ... His entire body buzzing, every muscle buzzing, every muscle fibre buzzing, every atom of his being buzzing, like the Test Chamber and its anabolic emmitters and hypertrophic coils forced him to surge of muscle-growing power and energy ... Feeling how Nate must have felt just hours and days before ... Yes! Like Nate! His brash and cocky hero-friend, who ... Uh! ... waiting for the AI to activate ... Mr. V carrying Doc into the Test Chamber ... Nate entering again ... All of them! Power increasing! Radiation intensifying! His insane power! His insane strength! Couldn't have thought ... Yes! Becoming a hero with a hero bod, together with Nate! Waiting for what he had programmed the AI to do ... Waiting for the activation of ... of ... UH! The activation of Sketch Number 2137! ACTIVATION OF SKETCH NUMBER 2137!!!! ACTIVATION OF SKETCH NUMBER 2137!!!! ACTIVATION OF SKETCH NUMBER 2137!!!! His orgasm caused him to wake up from his wet dream, and he found Nate close himself, his peaceful and regular breath telling that he was asleep. It wasn't possible to describe the depth of his warm feelings for his husband. His reverie was disturbed by a phone call. Mildly irritated, he answered: "Nelson." A deep voice like a sub-woofer began to talk: "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It must be in the middle of the night where you are, too, but I don't know who to call. My name is Brad Maxxx. 'Hancing has made a mess of my life. You are so darned impressive, and I don't know if anyone else can help me." The deep voice let out a sob. * * * Next chapter may be found HERE

The Prelude is found HERE The preceding chapter is found HERE My Hulk-daddy is Paying Chapter Eight After checking in at the ’Hancing company’s guest-facilities and taking showers, following the company's standard procedure, they had entered the same cinema or movie theatre as last time, but this time, Brad knew what to expect. The company was located in one of those new, growing coastal cities of the Siberian Federation. The Arctic Sea was the hotspot of trade and new opportunities, and it wasn't a coincidence, that the Siberian Federation was known as "Asia's Breadbasket". There was a joke about all combine harvesters – horse-driven or hydrogen-cell driven – to be produced in Siberia. Brad had shivered in excitement. His dreams would come true. * * * The first time they had gone there, Brad had noticed a lot of hot guys: Some of them probably working at oil rigs or gas extraction companies, some of them with the outward demeanour of soccer hooligans. He hadn't expected Siberians to look that hot. The second time he was less surprised. The company was seemingly wealthy, and didn't attempt to hide it. It surrounded its customers with opulence and comfort. While Sir had taken care of the paperwork, Brad had glanced at one of the big screens in the lobby: Something about a conflict between the Third French Empire and the Nigerian Realm over the Solar Power Fields in the Protectorates of South Algeria and Mali. The faces of Napoleon VII and President Dangote briefly flashed on the screen, and then there was something about the United Kingdom of Wessex, East Anglia and Midlands leaving the Geneva Convention in order to ”take back control”, but Brad's attention wandered to the other screens depicting 'Hanced men. Soon. Soon he would look like one of them. He could feel his manhood grow inside his Adidas bottoms. The word ”big” floated through his brain. * * * The first time they went there, the information had overwhelmed them. The first time, Sir wanted him to rejuvenate. Though Brad had found the request strange, he allowed Sir’s wish come true, and he didn’t regret it: His baby face didn’t look mature the way he would have wished himself, but his horniness had reverted to the intense level he had experienced when he was eighteen or nineteen – No: turned up into something even more intense, than when he was eighteen or nineteen. This time, he was Sir’s horny st00pid jockboi. Even more intense. He remembered the scientist they had met last time, Korsakoff, talking about his ultimate goal and Sir’s ultimate goal yet beyond reach, which caused disappointment for a few seconds, until Dr. Korsakoff explained: In order to reach that goal, Brad had to undergo the process in two separate steps. An ordinary man wouldn’t be able to handle the extreme dosages and power levels involved in reaching his ultimate goal, so before taking that step, he needed to become more than an ordinary man. * * * Shivering, with naked feet, and only wearing a short-sleeved compression shirt and a pair of posing trunks, Brad stepped inside the glass cylinder. Dr. Korsakoff closed the door behind him. Now, Brad was alone inside the cylinder, isolated from the rest of humanity. Alone with the hancing process. Alone with his desire. Alone with his urge. ”Big.” The word ”big” floated through his brain, loaded with a significance a baseline man wouldn’t understand, at least not a baseline man outside the ’hancer scene. Loaded with significance: His aim, his goal, his purpose, his burning desire and his deep-seated urge. ”Big.” And then his contradictory feelings returned. ”No!” Not the contradictory feelings! Not the awkwardness he had tried to escape! Not now! He felt warm. Sweat trickled everywhere, because of the injection Dr. Korsakoff had given him more than an hour ago. His body reacted, but his mind was trying to steal his moment of triumph. Not the contradictory feelings! Blurry memory … Only fragments before his first ’hancing. Nice blokes Bob and Vitaly, who ’hanced him for free, and delivered him to Sir. ’Hanced him for free … allowing him to flee his past. His past with the contradictory feelings … He didn’t want to remember how baseline he had been, how weak. That baseline pipsqueak wasn’t him. He was a ’hancer now. He was Sir’s baby-faced jockboi now. He had been ’hanced. He was bigger than most men. ”Big.” He shivered in delight. There was a hissing sound in his breathing-mask, and there was another hissing sound inside the glass cylinder. Dr. Korsakoff had tried to explain all the fancy scientific details, but the details didn’t matter. What mattered was, that he was becoming big. ”Big.” But the feeling of an icy lump in his gut didn’t go away. Weak in the past. Fleeing the past. Fleeing more recent shame. Had to repay Sir. Sir paying for his ’hancing. Sir paying for his food and supplements. Sir’s ’hancer-sized gym. Repaying … Sir’s pitiful asparagus-dick creaming Brad’s buttcheeks … Sir not man enough to reach to Brad’s hole, even less enter it, which was just as well, because deep inside Brad didn’t want Sir to … didn’t want Sir to use him … felt pity for the little Sir … so tiny … so old … not bold enough to ever take up a gym habit himself, not bold enough to try ’hancing himself, only daring to watch a substitute … watch Brad … ogle Brad … Anger awakening … Sir using him and ogling him … Anger swallowing shame … Anger and disdain welling up … Disdain for the weak little pathetic toff, who hadn’t it in him … Not like Brad. Not the courage to take the leap. Not the discipline to pump iron. Not the true urge. Not the true urge of a ’hancer. Not the true urge of a ’hancer like Brad. Brad big now. ”Big.” The humming sound was switched on … increasing in intensity … the sound he was familiar with now, after two ’hancing procedures … humming sound of ’hancing equipment, that would soon … ”Uh!” Oh, yes! The build-up now … Brad swallowed. The build-up now, accompanying the humming sound … He knew what to expect, but he knew that he wouldn’t know what to expect, when the next phase would start soon … The pleasure, when increasing discharges of Hypertrophic energy began to bombard him … bombard his body … bombard his muscles … energize his flesh … The pleasure and the anger and the disdain … Leaving the past beyond … Leaving embarrassing memories of his own weak and feeble past beyond … Leaving the shame beyond … leaving all awkwardness beyond … Become a 100% strength-obsessed mountain of enhanced steel-hard brawn who never suffered from any lack of confidence, and only lived for the pump, only lived for his own pleasure and progress and didn’t have to bother with everyday worries, because his Hulk-daddy was paying … ”Big!” The all-pervading word ”Big”, loaded with a significance a baseline man wouldn’t understand, at least not a baseline man outside the ’hancer scene. Loaded with significance: His aim, his goal, his purpose, his burning desire and his deep-seated urge. To become BIG. Happening now. At last. Finally! Becoming BIG. Yes! Happening! His body! The growth! Happening! Now! Becoming BIG! And the other all-pervading word. The word ”Becoming”. Uh! Yes! He inhaled eagerly. The inhalation gas. The nano-bots he needed. The myostatin-inhibitors he needed. The DNA-alteration circulating within his system now, with no turning back … the irrevocable transformation … who would want to revoke it? Not Brad. Becoming. Yes! The other all-pervading word … ”Becoming!” The warm, inviting sea existing where consciousness meet unconscious sleep reached out for him, and his consciousness tumbled, tumbled, as he had been told to expect, into the depth of visions, memories, sleepiness, when the analgesic formula removed any pain from his skeletal growth … The strange scraping sound of of bone growing faster than it is meant to. A weird sensation of becoming … Taller … Wider … Almost asleep, but only almost, because he could feel himself becoming … Taller … Wider … Memories floating. Memories arising. The commercial before … The film about the available options … The men on the screen moving, smiling at the audience, and a narrator describing the options: ”Each customer want to realise his own unique goal. We are glad to offer our customers a wide range of options, and each option is available with additional features and modifications. We offer you DREAMBOAT – an option highly popular among our customers’ wives, girlfriends or boyfriends, and an option, that will not interfere with duty and interaction at work.” Brad had smirked when he had watched the men filmed to exemplify what the DREAMBOAT option included. He already was well beyond the physical shape of the winking and smiling fitness models (with their stylish hairdos) going under the DREAMBOAT label. He was already well beyond their level … bigger than them … Uh! yes! Bigger! Blood rushed to his dick, at the realisation of his own physical superiority to these ’hanced men. This was not the option he wanted to go for, and he had felt relief, when Sir didn’t gave any sign of going for a lesser option. Uh! ”Big!” The narrator had continued his speech: ”The second option was initially designed to help the discerning VIP enhance his bodyguards or bouncers to a suitable level of operative efficiency, but it has since become the option of choice for any customer who aim at a masculine physique that will be outstanding both at work and at leisure. It also come with loyalty implants for those VIP’s who want to ensure, that their men are unfailingly trustworthy. If this is your option of choice, ask for BOUNCER.” The men on the screen had moved confidently, some of them wearing expensive suits struggling to contain the bulging physiques inside. Another bulge at chest-height told about the handguns hidden inside the jackets. Still no sign of Sir going for this option. Yes! Although a tough-looking option, Brad had wished for something more than this. Something more. Something bigger. Something more … extreme. Another scene on the screen, another persuasive description: ”If from news or if from real-life encounters, the presence of hyper-marines among us changed which ideals men would deem possible, for others or for themselves. The male physique beyond former limits is now available for civilian customers. For the man with a sense of duty or for the Bad Boy out there, go for the option PATRIOT. It is also a mandatory preparation phase for any of our remaining options.” The swag was overwhelming, stunning. The men on the screen were all sporting military-inspired haircuts, and none of them was shorter than 6’4’’, most of them taller than 6’8’’. The sight of their necks and traps had mesmerised Brad the first time he had watched the commercial, and the allure of the men’s confident gazes enchanted him. Quite a few of them were wearing the clothes usually associated with the Bad Boy sub-culture, within which ’hancing had become extremely popular. At their first visit in Siberia, Dr. Korsakoff hadn’t allowed Brad to go any further, because the dangers surrounding the remaining options, so, last time, Brad had reached the option PATRIOT with the additional rejuvenation Sir had demanded. Sound of bone. Taller. Wider. His baby-faced PATRIOT physique. Becoming taller, wider. Hissing gas. Breathing. Inhaling the gas for internal use. Surrounded by the gas for external use. Taller. Wider. The all-pervading word: ”Becoming!” He returned to consciousness. Returned to the delicious awareness of his 7 feet body, to the exciting awareness of his still growing 7 feet body inside the glass cylinder, to the sound of raw meet stuffed into a leather sofa, which was the sound of his own swiftly increasing MUSCLE MASS. Returning to the all-pervading and voluptious feeling of …. Of … … BECOMING! With another hissing sound and with a squabbling sound, the exterior gas was now gradually replaced by the solution, Dr. Korsakoff had mentioned. The solution of anabolic salts. Brad felt movement. The cylinder moved from a standing position to a reclining position, and it was adjusted, lowered, into the structure Dr. Korsakoff had called a ”ModPod”. Brad continued to inhale the gas, while his pleasantly convulsing body became submerged in the solution of anabolic salts. Warm green luminous liquid through which bolts of hypertrophic energy bombarded his defenceless body. Bombarded! Yes! Charging him! Charging him with the energy to grow! Charging his ever-growing, yes even more growing, strength. His … Uh! Primed for the … Primed for the dangerous phases beyond … The dangerous phases not every ’hancer dare to explore. The dangerous phases of BECOMING only available to those men who has overcome their fear – the men, inside which the true, deep insatiable urge to BECOME BIG was burning. The one-pointed urge … To BECOME BIG … The phases beyond … His body began to shiver pleasantly, and a buzzing sound was building. He was eager now. Eager to embrace whatever the buzzing sound meant. The build-up. Primed. Beyond. And then it exploded. His mind exploded in ecstatic pleasure, wrath, embodiment, masculinity. His body … It felt like his body was hit, but not in a bad way … so hard to think now … He … The anabolic power streaming into him and the hypertrophic energy crackling … His bulgingly muscular body becoming harder, even harder, and growing in all directions as he became wider, taller, beyond comprehension. Hulking out of the struggling compression shirt … which was the purpose for the shirt to begin with … The sheer strength … His man-rod obscenely stretching his poser to the utmost, happily throbbing as all his muscles were throbbing by incomprehendible energy and power. Expanding. Evolving. Growing. Throbbing. His body. His entire body. Growing into an ecstatic state overwhelming his mind. Overwhelming. Overwhelming. The commercial had called the next step SUPER POWER, and the men on the screen had looked like real-life superheroes. Sir had moaned at the sight of these men, and the narrator had gone on and one about ”emulating one’s heroes”, but it was when Brad had watched the last and remaining option, he had known … Uh! Yes, it was when he had watched the imposing, unfathomable mountains of sheer muscle mass in the next option, he had known … that he craved the option known as ”MEGAMASS XTREME 3000” At last! Now! Undergoing MEGAMASS XTREME 3000! Watched the goal towards which his deep-seated urges and desires were directed. Leaving the past beyond … Leaving embarrassing memories of his own weak and feeble past beyond … Leaving the shame beyond … leaving all awkwardness beyond … Become a 100% strength-obsessed mountain of enhanced steel-hard brawn who never suffered from any lack of confidence, and only lived for the pump, only lived for his own pleasure and progress and didn’t have to bother with everyday worries. Nothing mattered now. Only growth mattered. ONLY GROWTH MATTERED! Yes! The meat-slabs, that were his pecs now, his chest the chest of a superhero or supervillain. Meat-slabs. His palm rubbing his rockhard baseball-abs. His palm clenching his unyielding steel-hard bowling-ball bicepses … His bull-neck … FUCK! YES! EXTREME! Even more! His 8 feet body! His fukking 8 feet body! He wouldn’t know what to expect. He had entered the unknown. Alone inside the cylinder, isolated from the rest of humanity. Alone with the hancing process. Alone with his desire. Alone with his urge. Beyond humanity. Superior. Overwhelming. ”Big.” Becoming. He remembered, when he and Sir had both agreed, that Brad would undergo MEGAMASS XTREME 3000! At last! Now! Undergoing MEGAMASS XTREME 3000! Mind! Body! Exploding! Superior! Veins crawling all over him. Cock throbbing. Mind throbbing. Muscles throbbing. His entire body throbbing. Uncontrollable, limitless, energising, empowering … BECOMING! POWER-BRAWN The rushing sound of his pulse in his ears and the feeling of his pulse in his neck. He was an expanding titan. For a moment, fear had him in his grip, because the transformation was uncontrollable, but he didn’t want to control it anymore. He wanted his wrath and his pleasure, his strength and his masculinity to manifest as flesh: Convulsing, throbbing, growing flesh, through which invigouring power let his inner muscle-beast out: Yeah, the muscle-beast. The smug, confident, undefeatable, virile, power-buzzing muscle-beast, which had lurked inside him for so long. He relished in his steel-bending and rock-crushing strength, and the struggling poser snapped. Entirely naked, his vein-covered monstrosity of a body floated and bobbed inside the ModPod and was a living conductor of hypertrophic energy and anabolic power. He was a living battery, charged with the power current of thousands power houses, and he was a power house himself. The power of vitality itself filled him limitlessly. Nuclear bombs exploded in his mind, when the uncontrollable power transformed into the monster-bruiser he had dreamed about. An ineffable powerblaze stormed in his every fibre. He brimmed of unlimited and unconquerable might. He was strength. He was power. He was virility. He was brawn, he was muscle. He was pure masculinity manifest as unyielding flesh. He was now … BECOMING He was now … MEGAMASS XTREME He was now PERFECTION BEYOND ALL … Mindless muscle-frenzied ecstacy enrapted him, because he was BECOMING PERFECTION BEYOND ALL LIMITS!!!!!!!! * * * Next chapter may be found HERE

(Hello, friends! I'm posting this CLASSIC ABSMAN story in anticipation of posting the erotic novel that grew out of it. POLLINATION has inspired two comic book adaptations and a slew of fanfic! If this is your first time in the Garden, take your time to stop and smell the flowers...) POLLINATION by absman420 If you expected dumb ol' Mike Milliano to explain the growth-rate of local real estate or the sudden value of property in this traditionally rural area -- you know, the BIG picture -- you were expecting far too much. All Mike Milliano understood was that he had work framing houses for the next twenty weeks, and that it paid enough for him to live through the construction worker's off-season. Other than that, all Mike Milliano cared about was his pick-up truck, his next beer, and what little pussy he could find in this shit-ass flyspeck of a town. He knew this area well, where he grew up. As a boy, Mike and his buddies used to come up here and ride their dirt bikes. It'd been unspoiled land then, lightly forested. If anybody'd actually owned it, he didn't know who -- maybe one of the few farmers that had dotted the landscape in those days -- didn't matter. Now here he was as an adult, clearing that same land, building houses for snotty rich folks who had no history, no connection at all. He tried to pretend he wasn't feeling nostalgia when he slipped away during his lunch hour to walk through the nearby woods. Real men controlled their emotions. Now, sitting at the base of an old oak tree that overlooked a steep, forested slope, Mike Milliano smoked a cigarette and reflected. He wasn't a big man, although he wasn't in bad shape -- working construction kept him fit enough, if he'd hadn't been losing his battle with beer -- but nothing like when he'd played ball in high school. Now, a soft gut rolled over the top of his jeans, and though it bothered him, he did nothing to change it. He still had good, thick arms, and showed them off when he could, but he'd definitely lost his edge. He'd kept his attitude, though. A gruff, unforgiving, obstinate man, he fought as often as he fucked. And he got the same peculiar satisfaction from each. Smirking, Mike removed his well-worn baseball cap and wiped his forehead with the back of one heavily callused hand. Nothing in this old forest but memories, he thought. Time to head back to work. As he was about to stand, a particular flower caught his eye. Now, Mike Milliano was not the type of guy that normally noticed plants -- to him, flowers were just another tool to get into some chick's pants -- but this was like nothing he'd ever seen before. The way it was shaped, it looked like a big dick stickin' up out of the ground. Tube-shaped, like a Venus Flytrap a little, but with the gentle curve of its blossom, it looked exactly like a half-erect cock. A big cock, no less -- the flower was about a foot long. The base was a deep red, which veined its way up until it reached the soft pink "head" -- which was really just a little fold of petal over the end of the bud. When he got close enough, he noticed the half-exposed bulb in the ground, appearing as the flower's swollen ball-sac. He snorted a simple laugh. It's a shame he didn't have a camera -- none of the guys would believe this -- a flower that looks like a dick. He could probably make something off a picture like that. He caught the fragrance in a couple of steps -- frankly, it smelled like old sex, sort of pungent and spicy. All that did was increase his amusement -- it didn't just look like a big ol' dick, it smelled like one, too. Squatting down next to the plant, careful that his workboots didn't accidentally crush it, Mike Milliano leaned in. Certainly, he'd never been this close to a real dick -- and hopefully never would be -- but he almost couldn't help thinking of the image. Suppressing the slightest bit of a gag, Mike brought his mustachioed face close to the bud. It moved -- twitched -- he'd swear it. How could...? Suddenly, the flower before him seemed to burst -- no, actually, to burp -- to cum? -- and a good amount of pollen dusted Mike Milliano's nose, mouth, and mustache. He couldn't help but breathe it in, to taste it, dry and powdery, coating the inside of his mouth and nose. His first instinct was to gasp, which made him breath a little more of it in; he pulled his head back a bit, and brought his hand to his mouth. Brushing the pollen out of his mustache with his thick fingers, he mumbled, "Fucking plants." This close to crushing the stupid flower with his boot, he thought better of it. He could still come up tomorrow and take a picture of it -- a picture of a plant that looks like a guy's package would be worth somethin' -- THEN he could crush the shit out of it. Besides, it wasn't like the silly thing hurt him -- it just launched pollen in his face. Mike Milliano laughed only because no one else was around. His pride was hardly on the line over a fucking flower. Still brushing the last of the shit from his face, he hiked out of the forest and went back to work. ********************************************************************************** "I'm tellin' ya, Smitty, I feel fuckin' awesome! I ain't felt this good since I played ball in high school!" Smitty gave a non-committal grunt and took another swig of beer. Sitting there on the tailgate of his truck, he'd watched Mike Milliano put up an entire lower floor of a house by himself in less time than it took a crew of four. Impressive, but why work that hard, especially now, well after five o'clock, after the rest of the crew had gone home? Mike Milliano stepped off the foundation and walked toward Smitty's truck. There was something different about him, but Smitty wasn't sure what. He looked... well, he looked BIGGER than normal. Heavier. He looked like he'd packed on about ten pounds of muscle since lunch. The thought was so stupid that Smitty put it out of his head. "I don't know what the fuck it is," Mike said, unconsciously adjusting his balls. "I mean, I feel fuckin' great!" Smitty tossed him a beer from the cooler which he caught with a casual ease. He DID look bigger. His arms hadn't been that dense, had they? Mike Milliano popped the top of his beer and took a healthy swig. When he brought the can down, he studied his foreman, as if he debated telling Smitty some heavy shit. "Do you think I look bigger?" he asked, flexing his muscles to illustrate. "I think I've gotten bigger, Smitty." Smitty grunted again. "I was just thinkin' the same thing," he said. "It's weird," Mike continued, rubbing his free hand over his torso. "I don't know why, but it's like, all afternoon I could FEEL myself growing, getting stronger, gaining energy. I can't describe it -- it just feels so fuckin' great!" "What do you think caused it?" Smitty asked. "Have you come into contact with anything unusual?" Mike Milliano paused. Literally, he stopped feeling himself mid-stroke. The look on his face was confused, contemplative -- which was not an often-used adjective to describe Mike Milliano. "You know, come to think of it," he said, "I did." He touched his fingers to his mustache, pinching his lip. Smitty leaned forward. "What?" Mike Milliano was broken from his thought. He looked at Smitty and smiled. "You'll never believe it if I just tell you," he said, suddenly walking toward the forest behind the building project. "C'mon, I'll show ya!" Smitty snorted a laugh, but followed, not forgetting to take an extra beer with him. ***************************************************************************************************** "It looks like a big cock." Mike Milliano laughed. "That's what I thought." He squatted down on one side of the flower -- Smitty did the same on the other. "And the way that root there is exposed?" Mike continued, pointing it out. "It looks like the thing's balls." The two of them laughed together, in that juvenile humor kind of way that men share. Smitty took a swig of beer. "So, what's that got to do with you lookin' bigger?" Mike Milliano was quiet, but intense, like he was exposing his secret -- like he was confessing a great sin. He even leaned in toward Smitty, as if someone were eavesdropping in the middle of the forest -- as if the flower could hear them. "Buddy," he said, "I think I'm having a reaction to this thing's pollen." "What?" "Seriously, man," Mike continued, rubbing his hands together. "I was lookin' at this plant at lunch today, and it spit all this pollen in my face. I think this," he said, flexing his left biceps, "is what happened because of it." Smitty snorted. "That's crazy, man." "Maybe," Mike Milliano muttered. "But you asked me if I'd come in contact with anything unusual, and this is the only thing. Look, there's one way to find out for sure. You sniff it." "What?" "Sniff it," Mike said. "If it happens to you, then we know it's the plant. If not, then it's somethin' else -- but I think it's the plant. It's gotta be. So, sniff it. What's the worst that could happen? This?" He flexed his upper-body in a quick Most-Muscular shot -- he HAD gotten bigger. Maybe even bigger in the fifteen minutes since Smitty'd first noticed it. "It feels fuckin' great, Smitty." Smitty rolled his eyes. "This is stupid," he said, but it didn't stop him from leaning in to smell the flower. On the off-chance that Mike Milliano wasn't kidding, Smitty wanted to cover his bet. No man would mind havin' a build like that, especially if he didn't have to work for it. He put his face right up next to the flower's "cock-head" -- the fold of petal over the tip -- and breathed deeply. Nothing. The plant sat there, inanimate, unconcerned. If it could show less interest, Smitty couldn't imagine how. Worse, its fragrance was hardly pleasant. Frankly, it smelled like stale cum. "Okay," Smitty said, sitting up. "What's the joke?" Mike Milliano shook his head. "It's not a joke," he said earnestly. "I swear to you, man. I just leaned in like this..." Then, as Mike Milliano pushed his cap back and brought his head close to the blossom, the thing reacted. The flower seemed to shift toward him, as if it recognized him. Just as Smitty saw the movement, but before he could speak a warning, the flower shot a huge wad of dusty pollen right into Mike Milliano's face. "Mike!" But Mike Milliano's reaction was exactly the opposite of what Smitty was expecting. Instead of coughing and trying to expel the pollen, Mike Milliano was trying to get all of it inside -- he snorted the dust caked in his mustache, licked it off his upper lip and the fingers that he used for brushing. He was trying not to waste a bit. Smitty thought he looked like one of them heroin addicts handling their fix. What the fuck...? "Yes!" Mike Milliano shouted, standing, holding his arms out at his sides and flexing his back. "Oh, YES!" Smitty bent down at the plant. This time, when he leaned in close, the blossom seemed to turn away, as if it were snubbing him. When he looked back up, watching his crewman and buddy go from pose to pose, he realized -- with no small amount of homophobic horror -- that Mike Milliano had an erection. Smitty could see its outline plainly beneath Mike's tightening jeans. Obvious. When he flexed his abs, hands behind his head, Mike Milliano's eyes rolled back and his hips bucked uncontrollably. When he groaned, a growing wet spot appeared in the crotch of his jeans, proof of his orgasm. Mike Milliano smiled. "Oh, yeah," he purred, his voice relaxed. "Feels fuckin' great." He reached down and adjusted his package, touching the soaking stain in his pants. Mike Milliano didn't seem embarrassed at all. He just looked at Smitty, squatting there next to the plant, and kept on smiling. Ironically, it was the seams tearing open in Mike Milliano's jeans that broke the moment. "I better get the fuck home before I'm drivin' naked," he said, fingering the tear, studying it as if proud instead of amazed. The mass was becoming more and more evident in his thighs. He walked over to Smitty, adjusting his gait to accommodate his new size, and offered a hand. Smitty was speechless. There was now no denying that Mike Milliano had changed. Still in the same grungy baseball cap, but now his t-shirt was too tight, too form-fitting for even a guy in construction, showing a body normally produced through military obsession -- rock-solid abs and bulbous chest, round, wide deltoids and sloping traps. Listen, his pants were still tearing from the growth in his legs -- each step, each flex, opened them a little further -- the seams couldn't contain the mass. From Smitty's angle, squatting there looking up at Mike Milliano, there was no way to avoid seeing Mike's package, either. It seemed to Smitty that even THAT was growing -- a thought he would've considered ridiculous only a few minutes ago. How long before the fly gave out? Or before Mike Milliano spontaneously orgasmed again? The thought horrified Smitty. Mike Milliano's balls were the size of eggs. Even as Smitty reluctantly took the offered hand and allowed Mike Milliano to pull him to his feet, he briefly toyed with the idea of destroying the plant -- stamping it into the ground -- just a fleeting thought that he might be actually SAVING his friend from something, though he couldn't imagine what. Instead, he asked, his voice a little shaky, "Are you okay?" Mike Milliano hadn't released Smitty's hand after helping him up -- the moment was becoming uncomfortably long for two straight men -- then Mike Milliano put his free hand on Smitty's neck, intimate, like he was getting ready for a kiss. He had that look in his eye. "I'm sorry the plant doesn't like you," he said. "But I still do." He winked, then Mike Milliano released his grip and started to walk out of the forest, leaving Smitty standing there stunned, unable to move. Smitty said, "Mike?" and Milliano spun around, still smirking, clearly enjoying the affect he was having on poor Smitty. "Are you okay?" Smitty asked again slowly, a little more deliberately. Mike Milliano laughed, and flexed his upper-body, straining the already-burdened t-shirt. "Never been better," he said, and motioned with his head. "C'mon." Smitty tried not to look at Mike Milliano's thickening ass as he followed him out of the forest, but the sound of the tearing material kept drawing his focus. ********************************************************************************************************** Okay, he didn't have a great body -- he never had, not even at his peak -- and he wasn't particularly handsome, either. Frankly, he'd heard a few too many jokes about his hairline recently. As Smitty stood in front of his bathroom mirror, all he could see were faults and weaknesses. Why didn't the fucking flower want him? It didn't make any sense -- well, NONE of it made any sense -- but the idea that a plant could somehow be particular, that was ridiculous. That the flower would react to one person alone, the idea that the flower could know the difference between one person and the next was baffling. That it could make a guy more muscular was laughable in itself. But what did Smitty know about botany? He couldn't even keep a houseplant alive. He was content to simply drink his beer and watch his collection of adult video -- not that he found much comfort in either at the moment. He couldn't stop thinking about that damn plant! It'd SNUBBED him. How could that have been? As Smitty stared in the mirror after his shower, assessing his physical weaknesses for the millionth time, he began the comforting process of rationalization. Skipping ahead -- there's no need to bore anyone with Smitty's leaps of logic -- here's where he finally arrived: it wasn't that the plant didn't want him. No. What happened was, he'd sniffed the plant, or brought his head into proximity, whatever begins the process, and Mike Milliano just happened to have his face in the way when the plant expelled its pollen. If Smitty had just kept his head there a little longer, HE would've gotten the pollen. HE would've been the one growing more muscular. It wasn't that the plant was particular. No. Smitty just hadn't shown enough patience. What he needed was another chance. He needed to go alone, without Mike Milliano tagging along. He needed to give the plant the proper amount of time. A fair chance. For sure, if he sniffed the plant again, and waited long enough, he'd get the pollen. He'd get the growth. So then, at the first hint of light in the sky, Smitty headed toward the site. Purposely, he wore loose-fitting clothes -- he wanted to make sure his jeans stayed ON through his growth. Not like the way Mike Milliano's had exploded just as they'd reached Mike's truck, exposing his gross size and obscene new package. Worse, the way he seemed to revel in it -- Mike Milliano had hardly been shy about showing his erection when it'd happened. Maybe Smitty couldn't admit it outloud, but in truth, he was jealous. He couldn't believe how jealous he was. It kept him awake throughout the night -- it motivated him now. When he pulled into the building site, he was surprised to discover that he had a partial erection himself. The sky was pink, the forest a dark silhouette before it. Smitty impatiently smoked a cigarette as he waited for the sun to crest the horizon, to give him enough light to see. He didn't know these woods as well as Mike Milliano did -- he'd grown up in the next town over. Finally, Smitty flicked his butt to the ground and crushed it beneath his workboot. He could see well enough, certainly well enough to find a flower. He hiked into the woods the same way he and Mike Milliano had yesterday afternoon. He stayed to the path, even if it was a little dark. The shadows of the forest heightened the sense of mystery and excitement. Smitty couldn't believe the power of his erection. Because of the lack of light, he heard the scene before he saw it. It sounded like a man's low moan, like the approach of orgasm. What the hell...? Smitty was careful, hiding behind a great tree and taking a safe peek. The sun had risen enough to cast light into the small glade where the plant grew, so he could see all too easily. And what he saw horrified him. And because he could so easily see, the image was all too clear. Burned in his eyes, it would stay with him forever. There by the flower, naked but for workboots and baggy gym pants down around his ankles, knelt Mike Milliano. He was gigantic. Bigger than the bodybuilders in the magazines, more virile than the wrestlers on TV, Mike Milliano must've weighed three-hundred pounds, his musculature grown to unbelievable proportion, thick and heavy. But what stunned Smitty was what Mike Milliano was doing. He was kneeling before the plant, his massive legs on either side of it, with his cock buried deeply in the blossom. He wasn't fucking it -- that probably would've killed Smitty -- but it seemed like the plant was giving him head. It looked like Mike Milliano's cock fit perfectly in the foot-long, curving flower, and the moans coming from lips sounded like a man getting the best blow-job he'd ever had. His huge chest heaved. He rolled his head, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open, lost in apparent ecstasy. His muscles still grew, and he softly flexed them in turn, his pecs, his biceps, his wide, wide back. Smitty couldn't move -- couldn't react -- all he could do was watch, try to process what he was seeing. It was almost too much. He watched helplessly as Mike Milliano's tempo increased. But when Mike Milliano suddenly stood, holding his arms out to his sides and flexing his entire body, every single over-grown muscle at once, when Mike Milliano threw his head back and suddenly orgasmed, screaming, shooting rope after rope of cum from his huge foot-long cock, coating the forest floor, Smitty found the strength to run. He didn't stop until he was back in town, at the local diner, where, because of the look of absolute horror on his face, the withered old waitress Sharlene gave him a shot of whiskey from her personal stash below the counter. He had to have two more before he had the nerve to face going back. ******************************************************************************************************* Mike Milliano knew what he had to do -- the thing had a funny way of communicating with him, like with pictures and feelings -- images. He couldn't describe it -- he certainly couldn't understand it. But he didn't need to. All he had to do was protect it, not understand it. He adjusted the pouch of his boxer-briefs to give better support to his balls, pulled up his baggy gym-pants and headed back to his truck -- Home Depot would be open soon enough. Stepping over the wilted flower, flattened and dead, unnecessary, Mike Milliano left the forest. Some of the other workmen were arriving on the site as he drove away. He waved to them with a much more muscular arm than he'd had yesterday -- he'd be back, and they'd get a clearer understanding of what had happened to him. He hadn't slept last night, either. Between the muscle-growth and the spontaneous orgasms and the cocaine-like buzz that had flooded his entire being, Mike Milliano had no time for sleep. The buzz had kept him from being concerned -- instead, it had been more like an exciting, wild ride -- the fulfillment of an adolescent dream. A comic-book transformation turned real. He'd had no fear. Why should he? He'd continued to grow throughout the evening, able to feel himself thickening, gaining mass. Look at him! Thank God he'd found that flower! Around midnight, the growth-spurt slowed, and finally let off. By that time, he'd weighed over two-hundred fifty pounds, and if he'd been paunchy before, there was no evidence of bodyfat on him now. His abs were incredible, drawing the eye to his narrow hips, which in turn lead to his dominant package, his unbelievable cock, his huge balls. That'd been when he'd noticed the shape of his new semi-erect cock, the slope -- it had been exactly the same as the plant. As a matter of fact, his cock could probably slip perfectly inside the blossom... He couldn't stop thinking about the plant. As his buzz had faded, he'd thought about it more and more. "Third time's the charm," he'd thought, beginning his own process of rationalization. He hadn't felt the need to be any bigger -- not that he would mind -- but what he really wanted had been the fuckin' buzz the thing had given him. It had been so strong, it'd reminded him of the crash after doing too much coke -- the impossible desire for more. Finally, Mike Milliano hadn't been able to take it. At four o'clock in the morning, after endless posing and modeling and hand-jobs to pass the time, he threw on his baggy gym-pants and workboots, grabbed a flashlight, and left for the forest. The moon had offered a surprising amount of light, so Mike Milliano had found his way through the construction site easily, the frames of half-built houses rising like prehistoric skeletons in the dark. He'd parked a little way further down the road than normal -- he hadn't wanted anyone to see his truck if they'd driven by. He hadn't even used the flashlight until he was well into the forest -- he hadn't wanted anyone calling the police because they'd seen someone lurking around up here. That would've been an unnecessary complication. He'd found the flower effortlessly -- he hadn't even needed the flashlight -- he'd known exactly where to go. There, waiting for the pre-dawn light, the dew had already begun to form on its bud -- that huge and beautiful cock, as perfect as the one Mike Milliano now had. He'd walked toward it as if hypnotized, with a stupid grin on his face, a loving and adoring look in his eye, his gratitude as powerful as his erection. He'd left the flashlight on the ground, spotlighting the plant like the star of some Broadway show. On his hands and knees, Mike Milliano had opened his mouth wide and took the blossom in. He hadn't cared what it looked like, a grown man taking what looked like a cock in his mouth, because he hadn't wanted to miss a bit of pollen. He'd wanted the whole hit. If he'd looked like a fag doin' it, then he did. And the plant had responded. In time with Mike Milliano's breathing, it'd launched its pollen. Every bit had gone into his lungs -- the blow job-like position had been a good idea. A cock in his mouth had seemed surprisingly natural. If he'd thought the buzz was intense before, it'd been nothing compared to what he felt at that moment, when the growth had begun. The feeling of gaining mass -- of thickening -- had overwhelmed him. He'd sat up on his haunches, enjoying it. Looking down at the flower, and at his semi-erect dick hanging almost next to it, he'd realized that he WOULD fit exactly inside the blossom -- his dick had gotten that big. The idea had seemed so right that, before his buzz-addled brain could stop him, he'd instinctively followed it. He'd slipped his cock into the velvety softness of the plant. Mike Milliano had been right, his cock had fit perfectly. He could feel the flower's stamen tickle his piss-slit. He could feel it slip inside. He could feel it growing up into his cock -- into his balls -- but he'd shown no concern. It'd felt so fucking good. And then, it'd come into him -- the Symbiote, the creature itself, the whatever-it-was that had been living in the bulb. Mike Milliano had been able to feel it come up through his cock, slippery like a snake, and make its way down, settling in the base of his balls, curling around his nuts, somehow connecting to him. And he'd understood. Images -- feelings -- a history had unfolded in his mind. It'd shown an explosion, massive, on a planetary scale -- spores in ice, hurtling through space -- hibernation, a deep, long, empty sleep -- a hundred years, a thousand, immeasurable -- cold -- then, entering THIS planet's atmosphere, the re-awakening -- taking root, beginning to search for a host, a Protector. It had all come into Mike Milliano's mind in an instant -- the Symbiote had spoken to him. A defenseless creature, the Symbiote would find a host organism willing to serve as the its Protector, keeping the delicate Symbiote safe. In exchange, the Symbiote would advance the Protector to his genetic limit, maximizing his abilities, his strength, and his sexual potency as well. Mike Milliano had seen the trade-off as more than fair -- he'd been only too glad to accept the Symbiote completely -- and so they'd joined together. The Symbiote had given him the best orgasm of his life, then -- Mike Milliano shot his seed all over the forest floor. Hopefully, he thought, they thought together, it would take root. Now, in his truck driving to Home Depot, gently cupping his balls so the Symbiote would be more comfortable, Mike Milliano ran over the list of things he had to buy to give the Symbiote what it wanted. Mike Milliano knew that great rewards were coming. ********************************************************************************************************* Finally the sun was completely up, so Smitty couldn't put it off any longer. He was the foreman -- he HAD to go to work. Whatever he'd seen, whatever he'd thought he'd seen, it was only one man, and Smitty had a responsibility to the REST of the crew. It didn't stop him from calling the lead carpenter on his cell. No, Jonas hadn't seen Mike Milliano at all that morning, though some of the other guys said they'd seen him driving off earlier. Smitty said he was on his way and hung up, surprised at his level of relief. He'd wanted a better body, true, but what he'd seen in the forest that morning thoroughly horrified him -- and not just the homophobic part. He didn't want anything at that price. It took Smitty about fifteen minutes to drive to the site. He spent that time debating whether he was glad or not that the plant hadn't picked him in the first place. What had it done to Mike Milliano? And where had he gone? He parked his truck next to the trailer that served as their make-shift office -- the crew, at work on various buildings, waved or hollered "Morning!" -- everyone greeted the foreman. And everybody was busy -- they were working awfully hard this morning, Smitty noted -- someone must've seen him coming and gave the word. Nobody on this team busted their ass until the coffee was gone or the boss was present, and maybe not even then. Then he saw it, back by the edge of the forest, Mike Milliano's pickup, black and shining like new in the morning sunshine. Where was...? Smitty approached the truck cautiously, looking around the site -- the only movement were the men working. The only sound... "Smitty!" A deep, heavy bass. A voice he'd heard but never heard. Smitty turned around, as saw him coming out of the forest. It was Mike Milliano, for sure -- or it had been Mike Milliano once. Smitty had never seen a man as large, as muscular as the beast that walked toward him. Mike Milliano's face, yes, but heavier, the jaw so much wider -- he still wore that stupid baseball cap, which meant his head hadn't grown, but that was the only thing. His neck and traps were so swollen that he looked almost cartoony. Even in the baggy gympants, the size of his legs was obvious, as well as the size of his genitalia. Yet even with the difficulty of getting his thighs around each other, Mike Milliano moved with an athletic gait, like a warrior. He wore a sleeveless t-shirt that didn't begin to cover his abs, that could barely contain his mountainous pecs. And his arms -- good Lord God, his arms! Bowling balls for biceps, hocks of hams for forearms -- his hands, his thick fingers were filthy, as if he'd been digging in the dirt. Smitty hoarsely whispered, "Mike?" Milliano smiled, cupping his balls through the thin cotton material of his gympants. "And more," he said, his voice deep -- his neck was so big, no wonder it had dropped in pitch. "What's that thing done to you?" Mike Milliano went from pose to pose, displaying those ridiculous muscles. "Completed me," he said, again adjusting his package. "What do ya think, Smitty? We're fuckin' amazing, aren't we?" Smitty motioned to Mike Milliano's dirty hands. "What are you doing, Mike?" he asked. "What's going on?" Mike Milliano gestured for Smitty to come closer. "C'mere," he said, then sighed impatiently. "We're not gonna hurt ya, Smitty. We just wanna show ya." He cupped his balls one more time. "We promise." Smitty tentatively stepped toward the giant and his pickup truck. Mike Milliano brushed the excess dirt from his hands as he waited, then gestured for Smitty to look in the bed. Smitty sighed, and finally did. "Our seed took root," Mike Milliano said proudly. There, in the bed of the truck, were almost a dozen clay pots, each of them filled with a plant exactly like the one that Mike Milliano had shown him yesterday in the forest. "Oh my God," Smitty said, as the panic of realization started in the pit of his stomach. But before he could even really react, one of the plants -- not the one closest to him, he noticed, a strange detail to remember -- which he would, for the rest of his life -- one turned toward him, literally, as if taking aim, and then shot a load of dust and pollen that hit Smitty square in the face. No! "Yes!" shouted Mike Milliano. He would scream -- Smitty breathed in to scream -- but coated his throat with even more of the stuff. Oh, shit! Oh, shit! "We just want to re-populate," said Mike Milliano simply. "We're not gonna hurt anyone." Panicked, Smitty ran. And as he ran, he tried to wipe the shit off his unshaven face. But it proved impossible -- it was gritty. It stuck. Trying to get it off just got more of it in. Smitty went to the first person he could find: Jonas. The nearly-obese head carpenter was working on the foundation of House Six, the one nearest the forest. Smitty called to him. "Jonas!" Jonas turned, and Smitty's horror rose a notch. Jonas had the remnants of pollen in his thick black beard. He smiled, and licked a little more of it off his upper lip, from beneath his mustache. "Morning, Smitty!" he said amiably. "Hey, you wanted to know. Milliano got here about fifteen minutes ago, right after you called. But I see you've already found him." "Oh my God..." Jonas smiled again, unconsciously adjusting his balls beneath his overalls. "Yeah, I know," he said. "I'm really startin' to feel it now, Smitty. And Milliano's right. It's pretty fuckin' amazing!" Smitty almost cried. He ran from guy to guy, searched out the whole crew, all eight of them, but Mike Milliano had gotten them first. Every single one of them had been blasted by that damn pollen -- and not one of them seemed the slightest bit concerned. And the thing of it was, after about a half hour, Smitty wasn't concerned, either. As a matter of fact, by the end of the day, he was feeling so good that he was more than happy to take the potted plant home with him. He actually felt kind of protective of it. He let it ride in his lap to keep it safe.

The Prelude may be found HERE The preceding chapter is found HERE PREFACE No. The Aardvarks, of which Rob is a member, does not exist IRL. It is a figment of my imagination, and so are its 19th century founders. They do have a resemblance of reality, though. Don't worry, we will soon return to what's happening to Brad/Max half a planet away. My Hulk-daddy is Paying Chapter seven "Bye Nate. I'll probably come home one hour later, because Big Jim will receive the second degree tonight." Rob stood close to the door, wearing a tuxedo and carrying a bag with some books and some silk ribbons. "Glad to hear. Hope he'll enjoy it." "Still no possibility to see your application some day soon? I shouldn't ask, actually: New candidates are supposed to take the initiative themselves." "You know me, Rob. You're the best man I've ever known; Jim is reliable, Cyrus is a great kid and Rodriguez is like my Gramps was, but I'm still afraid, that I wouldn't fit in. Where I grew up, fraternalism was something for the upper classes – those who were left after the Crisis – and even if I'm affluent now, thanks to Vin's foresight before he lost his mind, I don't feel relaxed around posh people. I don't want to be looked down at." "No one would look down at you. The idea is to overcome class prejudice. We have members from all walks of life." "But isn't it terribly old-fashioned and strange and full of funny handshakes? And shady?" Rob sighed. "I can't vouch for, what other orders do, but The Aardvarks frown at nepotism. There's even a part of the Constitution and by-laws that state that anyone found guilty of using the Chapter for mercenary purposes will be expelled. I enjoy the old-fashioned language. It connects me with history, and our founders were such a fascinating bunch of idealistic eccentrics. I hope, that you'll not feel abandoned?" "It's ok. I'll watch the new Bond movie. It's a remake of Gold will never die tomorrow." * * * The room was almost dark. The silence was broken by a knock from a gavel. ”Is the Esteemed Outer Tiler present?” ”Present, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Esteemed Brother Outer Tiler, where is your proper station?” ”Outside the door, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Your duty there?” ”To guard the door from eavesdroppers, vicious men and those for whom the noble truths of aardvarkdom are yet a mystery.” ”Why is your collar purple?” ”The collar of an Outer Tiler share the color of the Official degree’s sash, but its significance is hidden from Brethren of lower degrees, and to the world a secret.” ”What is the sign of your office?” ”A sword, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”You have my permission to repair to your proper station. The Esteemed Inner Sentinel will let you know, when the Chapter is duly opened and, if needed, raised for business in higher degrees.” ”Is the Esteemed Inner Sentinel present?” ”Present, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Esteemed Brother Inner Sentinel, where is your station?” ”Inside the door, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Your duty there?” ”To guard the Chapter from the vices, foibles and disunity of the mundane world, to allow tested and proven Brethren of the proper degree to enter, even to allow proper Chapter officers accompanying properly invited candidates to the latter’s particular degrees, as that may be the case.” ”Why is your collar purple?” ”The collar of an Inner Sentinel share the color of the Official degree’s sash, but its significance is hidden from Brethren of lower degrees, and to the world a secret.” ”What are the signs of your office?” ”Two swords crossed, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Is the Esteemed Journeyman Officer present?” ”Present, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Esteemed Brother Journeyman Officer, where is your station?” ”In the northhwest, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Your duty there?” ”To accompany qualified, voluntarily applying, properly ballotted, accepted and invited candidates into the Journeymens’ Chapter, and deliver the main lecture of the Journeyman degree.” ”Why is your collar green?” ”The collar of a Journeyman Officer share the color of the Journeyman degree’s sash, signifying the noble virtues of Brotherhood, Duty and Benevolence.” ”What is the sign of your office?” ”A halberd, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Is the Esteemed Squire Officer present?” Rob answered: ”Present, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Esteemed Brother Squire Officer, where is your station?” ”In the southwest, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Your duty there?” ”To accompany properly invited Journeymen into the Squires’ Chapter, and deliver the main lecture of the Squire degree.” ”Why is your collar sky-blue?” ”The collar of a Squire Officer share the color of the Squire degree’s sash, signifying the noble virtues of Reason, Conscience and Equity.” ”What are the signs of your office?” ”Two halberds crossed, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” Rob relaxed, and allowed the familiar and repetitious lull bring him into a timeless place, where symbols, customs and the choice of words had been more or less the same since 1865, and where he would recover from worries from work. ”Is the Esteemed Knight Officer present?” ”Present, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Esteemed Brother Knight Officer, where is your station?” ”In the south, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Your duty there?” ”It is well known, to Brethren of lower degrees, that a Knight Officer serve as Treasurer of his Chapter, and the Coffer is unto me entrusted. My other duties are hidden from Brethren of lower degrees, and to the world a secret. So is the significance of my crimson collar.” ”What are the signs of your office?” ”A shield and a key, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Is the Esteemed Sage Officer present?” ”Present, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Esteemed Brother Sage Officer, where is your station?” ”In the north, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Your duty there?” ”It is well known, to Brethren of lower degrees, that a Sage Officer serve as Secretary of his Chapter, and the minute-books are unto me entrusted. My other duties are hidden from Brethren of lower degrees, and to the world a secret. So is the significance of my black collar.” ”What are the signs of your office?” ”A skull and a quill, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Is the Very Esteemed Past Senior Aardvark present?” ”Present, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Very Esteemed Brother Past Senior Aardvark, where is your station?” ”By your right side, Honorable Senior Aardvark.” ”Your duty there?” ”On behalf of the Provincial Chapter, to supervise the compliance of a local Chapter to the Constitution and by-laws of the Ancient Benevolent and International Order of Aardvarks, to advice the Honorable Senior Aardvark during his term, and to lead Brethren in their devotions.” ”Why is your collar purple?” ”The collar of a Past Senior Aardvark share the color of the Official degree’s sash, but its significance is hidden from Brethren of lower degrees, and to the world a secret.” ”What is the sign of your office?” ”An aardvark, Honourable Senior Aardvark.” ”What is an aardvark?” ”An aardvark is an animal very common in South Africa, measuring upwards of three feet in length, and having a general resemblance to a short-legged pig. It feeds on ants, and is of nocturnal habits, and very timid and harmless.” ”Why do we style ourselves after this particular animal?” ”Because it is emblazoned on our heraldic crest, Honorable Senior Aardvark” ”And why so?” ”Unlike other animals, it is not prone to attack, but, if attacked, it defend itself bravely with its fearsome claws, and it is furthermore a hardy creature able to withstand attacking poisonous soldier-ants. For this reason, it is a useful symbol for an Aardvark’s willingness to defend the grave and noble philosophical tenets instilled into willing and receptive hearts inside the chapter-rooms of aardvarkdom. Furthermore, its nocturnal habits and amusing visage is a proper symbol for the merriment allowed at the consecutive festive board.” ”Does aardvarkdom then allow merriment?" ”As Sacred Writ proclaim: ’To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.’” The Senior aardvark knocked twice with his gavel: ”Esteemable Officers, rise!” ”Esteemable Officers, which purpose under heaven does aadvarkdom serve?” Brother Journeyman Officer began the almost 200 year old traditonal answer: ”To bring together men from all walks of life.” Rob answered: ”To help them recognize in each other men and Brothers true.” Brother Knight Officer continued: ”To remind them of their civic duties.” Brother Sage Officer added: ”To instill noble ideals into willing and receptive hearts.” Brother Inner Sentinel concluded: ”And to enable such innocent mirth, that alleviate the burdens of mundane life.” As usual, the Past Senior Aardvark rose, and asked the Senior Aardvark: ”Honorable Senior Aardvark, where is your station?” ”In the east, Very Esteemed Brother Past Senior Aardvark.” ”Your duty there?” ”To preside as chairman of the business and transactions of a Chapter duly opened in, or raised to, any of the four Local Degrees of aardvarkdom." ”Why is your collar purple?” ”The collar of a Senior Aardvark share the color of the Official degree’s sash, but its significance is hidden from Brethren of lower degrees, and to the world a secret.” "What is the sign of your office?” ”A gavel. Esteemed Brother Journeyman Officer: Perform your duty, at the opening of the Chapter." Journeyman Officer solemnly approached the Senior Aardvarks desk, carrying his halberd in his left hand, and a candle in his right. He lit his candle, returned solemnly to his station, and lit the three candles at his pedestal, saying with a clear voice: "BROTHERHOOD. DUTY. BENEVOLENCE." Senior Aardvark answered: "I hereby declare Local Chapter number 16 of the Ancient Benevolent and International Order of Aardvarks duly opened for business in the Journeyman's Degree, to assist our neighbors in need and to the glory of the Supreme Being." He knocked in a complicated way. Inner Sentinel repeated the knock at the inside of the chapter-door. Outer Tiler repeated the knock from the outside of the chapter door. The Senior Aardvark now addressed Rob: ”Esteemed Brother Squire Officer: Perform your duty, at the raising of the Chapter to the second degree." Rob walked solemnly, and repeated what the Journeyman Official had done, lit the three candles close to his seat, and declared firmly: "REASON. CONSCIENCE. EQUITY." "Very Esteemed Brother Past Senior Aardvark; Perform your duty, at the raising of the Chapter to the second degree." "Honorable Senior Aardvark, Esteemable Officials, my Brethren! We are about to confer the second degree upon a Journeyman, and desire to make a lasting impression upon his conscience. Let us therefore conduct ourselves accordingly. To hear again the obligations taken; the instructions given and the wonderful lessons of the order dwelt upon, can only be of profit to you and to the order. You know how easily we forget. And before the Chapter is duly raised for business in the second degree, let us raise our hearts and minds unto the Supreme Being according to each one's conscience, and silently pray for blessings upon this Chapter." Silence fell. The air felt thicker now, and charged with solemnity. The silence was again broken by Senior Aardvark's voice: "I hereby declare Local Chapter number 16 of the Ancient Benevolent and International Order of Aardvarks duly opened for business in the Squire Degree, to assist our neighbors in need and to the glory of the Supreme Being." * * * It was two and a half hour later. The Chapter had closed traditionally, and they were seated around the dinner table. Brother Esteban joked something about where Brother Jim and Brother Rob were able to buy tuxedos in a fitting size, which caused Jim to laugh in his warm, deep voice, as he protectively patted the old and frail man on his shoulder. Jim leaned in Rob's direction, and whispered: "Now I get from where you got some of the ideas guiding 'Hancer Chapters." "Care for you neighbourhood. Good citizen. Incorruptibility. Not so old-fashioned, is it? Or if it is, some good ideas are old, which doesn't mean that every old idea is good." "Fair enough. Hasn't Nate given Aardvarks a thought? If he enjoy 'Hancer Chapters, he should enjoy the Aardvarks, wouldn't he, even if most Brethren are baseline fellows, and the rituals are more elaborate here." "He know how to apply. No one ought to persuade him. I've said more, than I should, to him. Then there's the bit about belief in a Supreme Being." "The Squire Trial was more shocking than I expected, but it's good food for thought." "Our founders wanted the Aardvarks to be more thought-provoking than Odd Fellows, the Masons or the temperance orders, that's why. It's not just a drama for drama's sake. The important thing is, that you begin to think for yourself. I suppose some Aardvarks are here just for company and the meal, and some Brethren think that the ritual part take too much time from charity, but I think, that there's a place for all three: Some serious food for thought and life-advice, some fun at the festive board, and some money and work spent on charity. There's an orphanage close to the coast which need some help to re-build, as a precaution against flood, and there's a women's shelter, that always is grateful for some donations." "Is it true, that Osiris Jefferson knew something about ancient Egypt?" Rob chuckled. "I've seen books printed as late as the 1970s, which maintained, that some of our imagery was transmitted by Jefferson from the ancient Egyptians, but that's nonsense. He deliberately shrouded himself in mystery, because back in the 1870s it was easier to present oneself as "Egyptian" than African-American. All of our five founders were outsiders in one or another sense: O'Kelly was an Irish Catholic at a time when that wasn't popular, Larsson was a Scandinavian at a time, when they were considered weird because of their bad English, then you have Jefferson, and even if Sanderson-Rattray belonged to an old family with a lot of money, he was considered eccentric, because he studied Thoreau, Emerson and Margaret Fuller. That he was an abolitionist in the South probably didn't endear him to his neighbours either: He moved to New England after a while. Smith was a Quaker. That's the reason why the obligation is a series of questions, and not the sort of wordy oath, it is rumoured, that other orders use. I doubt, that O'Kelly would have assisted in the foundation, if there had been an oath, either: Both Quakers and Catholics are sensitive about that. One of the proofs, that they didn't just talk the talk, but walked the walk, is, that Horowitz was one of the first candidates to become an Aardvark – He later became the third Grand Aardvark. I'll not bore you with our history. You'll have decades to read about that. The important thing is, that you give tonight's lessons some thought, and try to apply them in your daily life. Will you join me, when I fetch some more pie?" * * * The next chapter may be found HERE

The Prelude may be found HERE The preceding chapter may be found HERE My Hulk-daddy is Paying Chapter Five He returned home. Their i-house behaved predictably: "Welcome home. Dr. Nelson. Your body temperature and perspiration level are. Above. Average. Do you want me to prepare a cooling bath?" "No." Rob took the thick skiing jacket off, and began to remove his clumsy but sturdy ski-boots. He was tired, but satisfied. "Robbie?", Nates familiar voice greeted him from another room. "Yes. Home. Missed you." The Machine turned around a corner, approached him and hugged him, saying in a mocking tone: "Ah. The hero has returned! How did it go?" "Two dead, but we saved the lives of twenty-six. Those who say that Civic Hancer-chapters don't fill a purpose, don't know what they are talking about. After the avalanche, us brothers were able to do certain things the baseline rescue team and the machines weren't able to. I'm exhausted, but it's times like this I feel that my life serve some sort of purpose. I didn't just get big for my own sake." "I would have joined you up there, if Coach had allowed me, but I had to prepare for that match." "I know. I don't blame you. Family. Work. Neighbourhood. Citizenship. Fun. You know what I think." Nate didn't answer. He kissed him instead. "Podotelly released it a few hours ago." Rob tensed. Nate enjoyed when Rob tensed his muscles, but not in that particular way. Rob sighed. "Disaster? How did they edit it?" "Could have been worse. I want to have fun with you, Hancer-guru. Before or after watching?" "Fun after watching. I will probably need to let off some steam after Podotelly, and Marketing will probably hunt me down as soon as they hear, that I'm back from the snowy great outdoors, to put a spin on it. I don't like Marketing. I don't ..." "Hush. I've heard it before. I prepared some lentil salad for your return, and ... i-House!" "Yes. Nate.? How may I be of assistance?" "Mix four litres of vanilla flavoured Hulkabolic Gro Bro 3000." They could hear the sound of a mixer starting from the kitchen. "Come, join me in the sofa, so we can get rid of it all. Calm down. I began watching. It could have been worse." Nate activated the i-screen, left Rob in the sofa, and went to the kitchen, to fetch the food. The scene on the screen looked exactly the way Rob expected it to look. "Hello, and welcome to Podotelly's Widescreen, the television pod for you who like how television pods used to be back in the good old days. I am your host, the hologram of the late Mr. Jeremy Paxman, and tonight we will discuss Hancing and Trans-speciesism: Threat or Opportunity? But first a pre-view on next episode's debate: Are horse-carts the solution to Inner City environment in the Deluge Economy?" Rob sighed. Nate returned with the food. Rob stuffed himself. The pod continued: "... and famous psychologist, debater and nmlogger Dr. Ernest Schuster-Slatt. Well, we all watched the initial clips from a commercial produced by the company where Dr. Nelson work. They grow big boys bigger, or so they say, and you have studied this matter for quite some time now, haven't you?" Dr. Schuster-Slatt was a thin-limbed and slender individual with a pale complexion and a receding hairline, wearing a two-piece suit in the new modern plastic fabric, but it didn't look flattering: "We live in a society lost in nostalgia, but not a nostalgia about the past as it actually was, but an imagined past. Men and women have been working side by side in almost all lines of professional occupation for generations, and already before the Crisis some young men struggled to come to terms with what it mean to be a man in the modern age. Some sought the answer in their embodied existence, began to valourize muscular strength and size, and spent significant amounts of time on physical exercise, nutritional supplements and enhancing drugs. The Post-War era saw the rise of Hancing technology for non-military and recreational use, and it attracts a certain segment of the male population today, characterised by narcissism, hedonism, immaturity and a low level of self-esteem. From a psychological point of view, Hancing – as it actually is used in our society – isn't a solution to a problem. On the contrary: It constitute a problem on an individual and public level." The hologram interrupted: "Before you continue, let us allow Dr. Nelson to share his point of view on the matter. You have heard a summary of Dr. Schuster-Slatt's criticism. You work at a Hancing company, and you are a publicly visible high-profile Hancer yourself. What do you have to say?" If he had known about the heat from the spotlights, Rob hadn't chosen to wear a three piece wool suit. Sweat trickled from his temples, and it caused him to look dodgy. Something about the lighting caused his icy blue eyes to look arrogant. "To begin with, when we talk about 'Hancing in the modern sense, we are talking about two things. We are talking about a particular biomedical and physics-based technology, and like all technologies it has to be used responsibly. All and every tech can be abused. At the company where I work with Hancing, we take particular care to ensure, that people who want to buy our products follow a stable psychological profile. Secondly, we are talking about a particular sub-culture, which has emerged around the possibilities enabled by Hancing-technology. I have personally been involved in the emergence of the Hancer sub-culture, and I can assure Dr. Schuster-Slatt and all your viewers, that it is a sub-culture based on certain values. Chapter-affiliated Hancers improve their bodies in order to better be able to improve their neighbourhoods. Hancers talk a lot about 'The Common Good'. Something the Interplanetary War taught us who grew up in those years was a sense of duty." "I can't allow this debate to deteriorate into some sort of commercial for Hancing.", Dr. Schuster-Slatt interrupted, "In my profession, I have seen countless of men, who had their lives ruined either by violent and abusive Hancers in their surroundings or by Hancing-processing of themselves going wrong. They shouldn't be allowed to modify their bodies at all. Authorities ought to prohibit all tampering with human DNA, hormones and morphic fields." "Excuse me?", a shrill voice interrupted from another chair. The voice belonged to an anthropomorphic person of undecided gender with purple fur, cat-like eyes and a distinctly feline shape of their head. A purple cat-like tail moved in an upset way. "Do you say, that you want to rob thousands of Anthro-identifying people out there of their cure?" "Don't interrupt me, young lady.", Dr. Schuster-Slatt snubbed the being in an arrogant and harsh tone, but his snub was met by an upset shout: "Did you just assume my species?" The debate turned worse from there. Rob sighed again. "I want to watch it to the end, but, if they didn't edit it more severely, the quarrel between those two shifted much of the focus away from Hancing, which might be just as well. Not my proudest moment." "You didn't tell me how purple they were.", Nate said, and kissed Rob's ear. "Have I told you, that your sweat smells good, when you just have saved human lives?" * * * Next chapter is found HERE

The Prelude to this story may be found HERE The preceding chapter of this story may be found HERE My Hulk-daddy is Paying Chapter Four "No, just the old, dated model. Some of the guys need some initial encouragement to feel the true Hancer urge." "I can't believe, that the old model is still in use. All that debate about safety issues and what it did to some guys' brains." "I'm old enough to have tried it myself." "You are kidding?" "Nah. It was back in the days. I'd worked out seriously for years and tried Tren and Deca and the things that were popular back then, and proper Hancing wasn't a thing, yet: The tech did exist on an early and risky level, but it wasn't general knowledge. There wasn't a word for it, and no Hancer-culture around. No Bad Boys either. It was just about lads wanting to go beyond what gear allowed, and Jock-up Xtreme 3000 was portable. You could do it at home in your bedroom, which freaked some parents out, and there were sport coaches who bought it for their team members. As long as you don't overuse it, there are no risks, but some of the early Hancers got addicted and used it again and again at increasing levels, and they got their brains fried and their metabolisms ruined. It wasn't supposed to be used like that." "I still don't like it. The risks." "What do you expect? Transport an entire Chamber or Tank or Growthpod around? Look what he's achieved already while asleep!" "Only portable option. Well ok. Admit he added some nice tone. More than some tone. But was it really necessary to give him that H.?" "Wasn't any insane dose of H. Not like the crazies overdose it. Just a tiny, little one to make him more receptive. Don't like the name of it, personally. I think they went for "Hulk Out" for marketing purposes, and some of the product names are just ridiculous." "Hey, Vitaly, he's waking up." "Thanks, Bob. Sooner than I expected." The prisoner felt confused. Confused about his whereabouts. Confused about what had happened, and what still happened. Confused about who he was. Why some sort of sack over his head, so he couldn't see properly? Why was he tied to a chair? And then he felt the nice feeling surge through his body. Exquisitely. Voluptiously. "Which sub-routine did you choose? "J.O.S.H."? "Inner Chad"? "Coach's Alpha"? "The invoice says ... O, wait, did you hear that? Is he ok?" "Ok. Better check, that it's running properly." "Just don't upset him." "Who do you take me for?" Yes! Nice feeling. Exquisitely! Voluptiously! Uh! His body! "Hey, bro? How do you feel?" Someone called him "Bro". Deep voice. Sounded like a Hancer. He like Hancers. Big. Impressive. "Do you feel ok, buddy?" "Feel ok. Feel good.", he mumbled. Wow. Voluptiously! Bro. Mmmm. He's a good Bro. Not disappoint his bros. "You are a Hancer, aren't you, bro?" Hancers. Big. He shivered. His body ... Something nice was happening. With his body. Hancer himself? Hard to think. Something didn't sound right. "I'm a Hancer Fan, I guess?" "No. You can't be just a tiny Hancer Fan, bro. You're built." "I do work out. Been disappointed. Can't be a Hancer myself, can I?" "Of course you are, bro. As a Hancer to another Hancer, you look like a beginner Hancer, little bro." Nice feeling surge. Body. Biceps felt harder. Mmmmm. Harder. Quads and hamstrings, too. A certain beefiness he didn't remember. But, then, he didn't remember much, either. Didn't matter. Growth mattered. His muscles. Muscle Growth. Oh, fuck yes! Voluptiously! "You're a real Hancer now. Taken the first step. Wonders ahead of you." Real Hancer now! His dick jumped inside his unfamiliar underwear. Was he wearing a ... "Feel so good, bro." "Of course you do. Do you look forward to your next workout? Lift heavier than ever before?" Beefier. Surging through him. Yeah! Beefier! Not only his arms and legs ... also his back and pecs. His pecs! His ... "Can you see it, bro? I can feel it! I'm ... O fuck, I'm ... ofukkofukkofukkofukk ..." So intense now. All his muscles spasmed, but not in a painful way, but in ... "Yes, I can see it, bro. You're becoming a proper Hancer, now. Looks great. Suits you. Impressive beef. All those gains." "YES! GAINS!", he yelled to no one in particular. A wave of power was building. A build-up ... a fucking good build-up into something incredible. He couldn't believe what he felt. Every single fibre of his body. His muscle-fibres ... His hair tingling. His bodily ... His ... He was ... Build-up ... wave of power ... lift heavier than ever before ... his jock-mind inside his jock-body ... the POWER-gains of his jock POWER-body ... He ... His Hancing career had just begun. "I didn't ask you about your name, Bro? Are you ok?" "More than ok ... name ... hard to remember ... look at me! Look at these gains! My name ... Uh! My name is ... Brad, and I'm ... uh ... I'm ..." Build-up. Power wave. Jock body. Lift heavier than ... Real Hancer now. GAINZ. Yeah! "MY NAME IS BRAD MAXXX, AND I'M A BEEFY ST00PID JOCKBOI!!!" * * * Chapter Five may be found HERE

The Prelude may be found HERE The preceding chapter may be found HERE My Hulk-daddy is Paying Chapter Three "Welcome home. Nate.", their i-house greeted him, when "The Machine" returned home. "There is. Protein-shake. For. Three days. left. Do you want me to order. Protein-shake. From an Apple-approved supplement store?" "Make it so.", The Machine answered in his deep delightful voice, but just now, he didn't want to be "The Machine". He wanted to be just Nate. "Robbie, are you there?" "In the study, Nate. You are lucky: I just finished feeding the chicken and checking the battery." Nate put his bag down on the floor, and slouched into the study. Rob was occupied writing something on his i-top, and sat with his back to the door. Nate came closer, and put his arms around Rob's traps and neck, pressing himself against Rob's chair, burying his nose in Rob's crewcut. "Something wrong?" "Nothing particular. Nothing new.", Nate sighed. Rob continued to write. They were silent together. Rob could feel Nate's body heat close, and pressed "Send". Then he rose from the chair, turned around and hugged his big husband. They hugged each other in silence. "Food?" "Ate dinner according to Coach's schedule, but I could have a supper with you in an hour, if that's ok?" "It's ok, indeed. I didn't have the best of days either. Will you begin, or will I?" "I had to lose against "Space Marine" tonight." "The audience would be bored dead if you won all the time, wouldn't they? This will add some tension, I guess. You are not a bad loser under ordinary circumstances. You know the business. Something else is troubling you, isn't it?" "A bundle of things. I will not repeat the usual stuff, but you know, I wanted to become big in order to compete ..." "... and entertainment isn't about real opposition, real achievements. The best Machine I know has told me those things before." "And then there's time. When I was younger, time went slower. A year was an ocean of time. Now it's rushing. Woosh. Like that. Do I look old, Robbie?" "Don't be silly. You look mature. I prefer my favourite Machine mature. I gather, that many of your fans do, too." "It's not something to joke about. "Space Marine" is just 25. I'm worried, that WHC might consider to move me from the all-age league to the adult-only league, just as they did, when they forced "Biker Brawn" to change nickname to "Leather Daddy"." "Don't be ridiculous. Little boys all over the world love to watch "The Machine" fight and tell them to eat spinach and brush their teeth properly. And WHC wouldn't want to lose the opportunity to sell more "The Machine"-toys." "Coach told me, that I would 'take the time I need' to consider a Rejuvenation at Physical Potential Foundation." "Rejuvenation? I can understand the 70 and 80 year olds, but someone about 40 undergoing Rejuvenation is damn outright ridiculous. What does Coach believe it would achieve?" "Today, heels look mature. If I want to continue as a face, I need to be baby-faced, he says." "Something is wrong with this world. You know, that I seldom lose my temper, Nate, but that's sick, and it's not the only thing, that is sick about this world. All of it makes me furious!" Rob trembled in controlled rage. Nate hugged him again, and there was something with his brainy and usually so composed husband angry, that turned him on. When his bulge throbbed against Rob's fly, he could feel how it caused Rob to become aroused, too. Their breathing changed. Nate kissed Rob. Then he lifted his muscular husband up – all 880 pounds of him – and carried him into the bedroom. Supper had to wait. * * * Next chapter may be found HERE

The Prelude to this story may be found HERE The preceding chapter may be found HERE My Hulk-daddy is Paying Chapter Two Max had finished one of his late night workouts. They had caused him a fit and lean body, but the PT:s, which he only briefly had been able to afford, had told him, that he was a "typical hardgainer", unlikely to ever achieve the bodybuilder physique so popular among a certain segment of his circle of friends. He was ravenously hungry, and popped by a night-open fast food chain famous for their vegan kimchi-burgers. He crossed the street, one lane at the time: Pavement, bike lane, horse lane, oneway RobCab lane, oneway car lane, horse lane, bike lane and pavement – the usual for a street of this size: Only the big roads allowed RobCab lanes and car lanes in both directions. The air was chilly and had some bite. Winter was approaching. He was fumbling with his g-watch for the entry code, but opened the app for his g-fridge by mistake, and he stood with his back to the street. When the big arm locked his neck in its crook, it took him by surprise. He was dragged into a black van, and someone pulled his bag out of his grip. He was vaguely aware of two big blokes, the size of Hancers, before someone put a sort of sack or hood over his head. He felt a sting in his neck, and he blackened out. The last thing he heard was his g-watch, saying: "Welcome, Max. You have one tomato left. Do you want me to order tomatoes?" * * * Dr. Robert Nelson, one of the founders of and experts at Megagrowth Hancing Services, read, watched and listened to the multimedia-news on his i-screen with growing concern. "No new information has been found about the disappearance of Canada-based journalist Max Brad, a Canadian of Polish-American extraction, who left his home two days ago without leaving a trace. Mr. Brad's watch was found without fingerprints in a public dustbin six miles from his home, and the Police does not exclude the possibility of crime. If you know anything, that could be of assistance, please contact the Police authority at ..." The young little fool. He had warned Max about those Hancers who didn't grok, that Max was doing his work for the general good of Hancer-culture, and he had warned about the unscrupulous companies, that competed with Megagrowth Hancing Services and Physical Potential Foundation. No signs yet, of the articles Max had promised to publish soon. Rob felt worried, that someone had tried to silence Max – by which means and how successfully could be anyone's guess. * * * Next chapter may be found HERE

The Prelude to this story may be found HERE My Hulk-daddy is Paying Chapter One HanceCon 8 was over. Max had disembarked the Zepp (which was what carbo-penalty he could afford on his wage, and was also in line with his editors' environment policies) a few hours earlier, and he was back home, writing on his Google-top. His series of articles about "rogue players in hancing-business" was ready to go, and there was enough material for his series about affluent elder men (or women) – "hulk-daddies" and "hulk-mummies" – taking advantage of financially disadvantaged teenagers or young men who wanted to get big by hancing. His trip to HanceCon had been a part private and part professional affair, and he had to work late, in order to post the multi-media article which summed HanceCon 8 up. Rob. Rob Nelson. A delicious shiver rushed along his spine, when he remembered the night spent with none other than Rob Nelson himself and his husband Nate "The Machine" Nelson, one of World Hancer-wrestling Championship's household names. It was part work-related: The seemingly very honest interview with "The Machine" about lost opportunities was journalistic gold. He had to listen to that clip again: "You know, when I was younger, I competed in MMA, and I had dreams about participating in Strongman competitions after hancing, but after hancing – a very experimental and pioneering hancing experience of the sort that existed, back then – and after the Strongman sport came to terms with the existence of hancing, Hancers were forbidden to participate in any baseline sports ..." "Do you regret hancing?" (pause) (a sigh) "Regret? No, not regret ... I loved the experience, and I love my life as it is now ... I'm devoted to WHC, and I love my fans out there ... but I just want young baseline lads out there considering hancing ... You need to know, that hancing shut some doors, and open other doors up. You can't combine dreams about baseline sports with being a Hancer. You have to realise that, before you make an irreversible decision." But other aspects of the night at their hotel room had been less work-related. He hadn't planned to encounter Rob. It had just been a lucky coincidence, that the hero from his teenage years had calmed big little Brawn down. Max had mentioned those old commercials to Rob. That caused Rob to laugh and show those shiny teeth in that suntanned testosterone-radiating well-preserved midlife-face: "The first commercials were ridiculous, I know! Do you remember the one, in which our marketing director dressed me up in a He-Man outfit, and had me read the script: 'Hey, buddy! Do you have what it takes, to absorb the power of Greyskull? If you have, call number MEG-AG-ROWTHNOW today! I HAVE THE POWER!'" Rob had changed his voice, and imitated the old commercial very well. Max had blushed. "We had to pay Hattel-Masbro a lot of money to allow us to use their character, but it payed off in the long run. It was just after the remake of the remake of the movie was released." "Hey, Robbie. He's one of them.", 'The Machine' said. Max blushed, and felt embarrassingly horny. "One of whom?" Rob laughed again. Deep nice laugh. Those penetrating icy blue eyes. That platinum blond crewcut. Max blushed. "I will not ask you anything private, Max, but let me tell you, that I receive a lot of i-mails, g-mails and a-mails from fans, who tell me, that they had their first orgasm, when they watched that commercial or one of the other early – cheesier – commercials. The days when rationing ended were carefree and silly and playful in my whereabouts. All that pent-up need for fun and games after the Crisis, the War and the early Post-War Years. Most of those commercials were prohibited in the Confederacy, the Continuing Russian Federation and Rump-China, and we had to produce censored versions of a few of them for the market in Rump-UK, because of the political campaign Decent Media in a Decent Wessex-Anglia, but they were a success in the rest of the world. Despite the backlash more recently, Saudi youth were eager to embrace everything new immediately after the Revolution, and young lads in the Siberian Federation loved it. The negative side of the latter fact, was the rise of rogue players in hancing-business operating in the Siberian Federation, because of the lack of regulations, but I guess you have encountered that in your investigations." "Shut your trap, Robbie. Can't you see, that he's not just a journo, but a Hancer-fanboy, too?", 'The Machine' interrupted. The Machine flexed his biceps. "Do you like the sight of this? I bet you like the sight of this?" Rob fell silent. A playful glint awakened in those icy blue eyes, and then he tensed his biceps, too. "Yeah, son. Watch this! How about TWO Hancer-blokes showing you what they've got?" Rob rose from the Grande-sized hotel bed, all his 7 feet, moved considerately all their glasses of vodka to a safe distance from any movement, stood there – all his 880 pounds of conditioned muscle – with his powerful legs wide apart, made a double biceps-pose, met Max' gaze and roared in that exaggerated commercial-voice: "I HAVE THE POWER!" That caused the first of Max orgasms that night. It had been followed by several. The night had turned out very satisfactory for all parts involved. * * * Next chapter may be found HERE

Before we begin with the chapter 5 of this saga, some observations: This is the most complex chapter and it might bore some readers, if you are here for the muscle growth, I suggest you advance to the end of the chapter. This saga is coming to an end soon, one more episode or two and it shall be completed. I hope you like it. What happened shocked the scientists. There was something they were missing on the equation of the pattern of behavior of those creatures, none could have predicted they would do something like this to one of them. Later that day, they gathered to discuss the issue, how to proceed next. Everyone was in eager of saying something on the matter, so the environment was an agitated one. "Clearly there is a threat, they claimed Noah!" "Is that a threat or a breach in our security? How could we let him go to meet Anthony?" "We had no idea that this could happen, it is not our fault! And we needed their sample, how are we going to proceed with our studies?" "There is simply no precedent to what happened today, in history. We also have to discuss if a crime was committed" "They did not killed Noah, they just... changed him. It was no crime. The formula is within their system, and they have the means to spread it as they please. This formula, is the one we've been looking for, one capable of turning humans into supersoldiers, this was precisely what happened, Noah transformed into one of them. It's a landmark. They should not be punished, but cherished! Noah is the future of warfare!" "With this speech, we should've sent you to them, Alfred, not Noah" "It would've been an honor. But on regarding what we should do, we have some options: Either we continue with the study as it is, or we integrate them into the army of the colony, and send them to train with the soldiers on the barracks, see how they would interact with the others." "No, we can't let this happen to our soldiers!" "And why not? It is not our intention for now to produce legions of supermen, but if it happens, I say that is a pleasant side effect" "If we'd consider doing that, we would have to contact our superiors, this is supposed to be a secret experiment!" "We will just integrate them into this legion for now, in the future, it is to be hoped, we'll be able to open up about the project" They kept on discussing what to do, and while this happened, the would be soldiers were still receiving Noah, now Enok, as one of their own. He was proud of his new power, his new muscles, his new body, his new lust. He was, for the third time, masturbating and wasn't slowing down on his need, his new brother in arms let him enjoy his new life while exercising and flexing for each other. After a while, Enok spoke: "I received a blessing from you, Anthony, and for that I'm grateful, brother" "Call me Zeus, Anthony is dead, buried deep within my mind" "Zeus, king of the Olimpus, very suitable name" "We have the need and desire to spread the seed within all. If it was in my power to decide, all of you would have been transformed, but me and my brothers need to contain ourselves, our life is only beginning, we will have plenty of opportunities to do so”. A day passed and they still were in the grey room, their new home, preparing for a war they never seen before, but as their minds reprogrammed, they were knowledgeable about it. Two days passed, and then a third one. After this time of silence between them and the scientists, the declaration: “Sublime Soldiers, hear that: you are to be integrated to the legion of this present barracks and to the army of this colony. You will be reallocated to the dormitories effective immediately. Follow the path that will be presented. End of transmission.” The door of the grey area opened, and even if no human came to show them the way, they knew what to do. Going to the end of the corridor, they went to the elevator of the facility, and returning to the surface, they were put in another truck, being transported to the barracks that was close to the complex. The regular soldiers of the barracks were told that new special recruits were to be received by them. Most of them were clueless on the project, and received the sublimes with awe. Both the scientists and the government knew their actions were a gamble, and not sure how to proceed, the sublimes were told to adapt to their new place and to integrate with the regulars. Their routine was straightforward, with them skipping feeding time though, and being put physical activities more intense than the others, something, specially Saturn, greatly enjoyed. Even with their sexual drive, their desire to spread their seed, their sense of duty was stronger, and their routine was purely martial. Their self control was huge. The soldiers of the colony were more of public workers than actual fighters, the colony took their defenses seriously, but wars were not common. Even so, they were put to physical activities, tests of strength, agility and so on, most of the soldiers had a good physique, specially one, on this barracks. Known as Brick, he was proud of his body that he acquired with much discipline and hard extra workout sessions. An exemplary soldier, was the biggest in the barracks prior to the arrival of the sublimes. He was like a brother to their comrades, but he saw with disdain their new colleagues. Considering them unworthy, he let his opinion be known to every recruit around him, while he’d flex his huge biceps in defiance. His insolence put the sublimes’s self control to the test, one of them, Enok, was particularly enraged by his attitude. Over the days, the tension was clear, until it explode. Brick mocked Enok, and him, at his limit, gave him a punch, before anyone could know, they were furiously in physical confrontation. Enok, even if transformed and incredibly powerful, was finding Brick, the human, to be a worthy foe, as he was incredibly strong and his muscles were impressive. He knew of Brick’s disgust for them, so he quickly thought of the perfect revenge. As the sublimes and the regulars tried to separate the both before the authorities could arrive, Enok’s natural needles, coming from his nipples and penis, were ready, and they promptly perforated Brick on his pecs and scrotum. “Now you will become what you hate, transform, transform, transform!” Brick tried to keep fighting Enok, but soon the pains in his body made impossible for him to do so, it all happened quickly. After the frensy, everyone gathered around Brick and watched him contort on the floor. He was already changing, his big muscles were in the process of becoming legendary, his pecs expanding, his abs being sculpted beyond comprehension, his clothes tearing apart and his screams turning to roars, his dogtag was dangling as he felt humiliated, he did his best to keep defiant, but his mind was at war. He resisted the transformation as much as he could, he was fighting against it, and the tragic thing is, the more he fought, the more his body changed, he observed with tears of anger in his eyes as his skin boiled and became steal, his dogtag integrated into his body, his bones were deeply changing and tall horns came from his skull. His mind resisted the reprogramming as it could, but his body was enjoying the experience and he was cumming in front of everyone, his cum getting dangerously closer to the other men. His cum that was being infected with the formula, and that could transform anyone. He roared and bellowed, cursing the changes and cursing the sublimes. As he became a God and changed beyond measure, he became a Sublime too. His cum finally touched a couple of soldiers around him, and even one scientist that came to experience the change got touched by it too. A legion of supermen was about to be born, a pleasant side effect, like Alfred said.

I just continued the story as I imagined it would take place; consider it a parallel story to theseventhwave's very hot series, The Symbiote War. Of course, acknowledgements go to theseventhwave. The moment the door closed and I heard Shawn‘s heavy footfalls receding down the hallway, I began fiercely struggling against the steel bedframe, in whose twisted grip I found myself. It was no use. The twisted metal bands of the bed were so tightly wound around my wrists, there was no way to squeeze my hands through. I tossed and turned for what felt like an hour. At some point, I gave up and looked forlornly around the room, looking for anything to assist me, or if not assist me, at least distract me from my predicament. My eyes settled on the little Inca figurine an aunt had brought back for me from Peru. She had told me it was of a priest, which I guess you could tell by the fact that he wore very colorful garb and his face was also painted. As he was facing my desk, I could only see his side profile, the sweep of his cape masking his body. I looked at its rustic browns and reds and must have passed out. The next thing I knew, there was soft knocking on the door, almost indistinguishable from the humming of the air conditioner. „Who‘s there?“ I yelled from the bed. „It‘s me,“ said a muffled voice on the other side. „Mark. We had a date tonight. When you didn‘t show up, I thought I‘d check on you!“ „I‘m trapped!“ I yelled through the door. „The key‘s under the doormat! Let yourself in!“ A moment later, I heard a key in the door and in came Mark, with a look of deep concern written on his face. He looked so sweet in his black polo shirt and skinny jeans. „My God, Corrigan! What‘s happened to you! Who‘s done this to you?“ „Ugh… it was Shawn“ I slurred. „He was waiting for me when I came back…he fed me this stuff“ I said, pointing to the flask on the night stand. „What is it?“ asked Mark, retrieving the flask and trying to find a label. „I don‘t know… he said he met some chemist who was into his body who gave it to him…“ „What‘s it for?“ asked Mark, looking seriously in my direction. „It… well –“ I stopped myself, because I didn‘t know if I was ready to cross that bridge with Mark. I thought about it for a moment, and then realized I had no choice. I told Mark everything, and as I was recounting the weird fetishistic horror of the past week, Mark and I hatched a plan. He would feed me the stuff in the flask, and suck my dick until I came. He needed to do it lots fo times in order to gain enough strength to bend the steel bars that were constraining me. „Are you sure you want to do this?“ Mark asked me finally. „It‘s our only choice, Mark!“ I replied. I certainly trusted Mark more than I did Shawn. Who knows what awaited me if I simply lied here for him. „Shouldn‘t I rather get the RA and try to find some tools to cut you loose?“ „We don‘t have time, Mark! Shawn could be back any second, and what then!“ So Mark got to work. It wasn‘t hard for him to get me hard. The tincture helped with that. And under his ministrations, I was burbling precum down his throat in no time. I could feel his back expanding in his black polo shirt immediately after I came the first time. He fed me more of the liquid and, in no time, I was cumming down his throat again. This went on for at least half an hour. I got into it, holding Mark‘s soft brown hair in my hands, face fucking him with fury and feeding him fuel for growth, which he accepted with more and more ferocity, moaning more loudly and relishing the growth – a virtual feedback loop – until I heard some ripping and popping noises: Mark‘s polo shirt was ripping at the seams. As he went to take it off, the sleeves also burst from his swollen biceps. He struggled to get the ripped and shredded fabric over his torso. Once on the ground, he got to work again. Mark was really quite huge now, and as he looked up into my eyes with a loving glance, he cocked one arm and I watched the biceps swell to the size of a coconut, a thick vein running across its peaked center. I tried to lift him up, he went to kiss me, but I had other plans. I planted my face under his arm. The muscled armpit was heaven, a deep masculine gorge, a slight pelt coating its musky innards, the deep curve of his bulging lat sweeping out, dripping with my spit and sweat from the exertion of muscular growth. His arm was capped with an enormous delt head, which made him look sso incredibly masculine. I rubbed one hand all over it, while I rubbed his dense and corded back with the other. His traps now nearly reached to his ears, his cute face the only resemblance to the old Mark that had timidly knocked on my door a half hour ago. In his place, an imposing giant squatted between my legs. I kissed him on the lips and said, „Now, Prince Charming, rescue me!“ „Let‘s see if this is enough power,“ he answered, smirking. He struggled with the bars, which started to give way. Just then, I heard voices at the door. Mark turned around just as Shawn and Greg, the guy who sucked me at the gym, entered the room. Both were dripping in sweat and visibly flushed, apparantly having finished an intense workout. Greg was wearing a gaudy yellow stringer and some baller shorts, his thick calves pushing out from underneath. Shawn had changed into some spandex pants and was shirtless, his huge cockmound looming imposingly behind the black material. His expansive chest heaved, covered in a sheen of wet droplets that ran down the crevice of his pecs and dispersed in the labyrinth of his abdominals. „What the fuck? Is there a party here?“ asked Shawn, a cocky grin on his face. „I‘ve come to take Corrigan. Your abuse has traumatized him. This ends now!“ said Mark, in a tone that I wasn‘t accustomed to hearing from him. „Well he wasn‘t complaining earlier“ said Shawn with a grin, and winked over at me. I felt my stomach turn. „Hey Greg,“ he said, turning to the other built bro, „I told you you could enjoy your protein shake here in my dorm, so there‘s the tap! Enjoy, while I take care of this loser.“ Shawn‘s pumped and sweating frame approached Mark and the two started scuffling, Shawn punching Mark in his firm abs, and Mark pushing Shawn back onto the ground. The two muscled bodied heaved back and forth. I saw the Inca priest tumble from his perch. Other objects were strewn around the room as the two tussled for dominance. Meanwhile, Greg made his way over to me, smiling with a sly grin. Pulling his stringer over his head, exposing his pumped pecs and rippling delts, he smiled over at me in a sultry way. „Hello Corrigan,“ he cooed. His glance fell on the bottle on the nightstand. „This must be the formula Shawnie was talkin‘ about.“ He grabbed the bottle and straddled my torso. „Get off… of me!“ I shouted at him, tossing left and right but still unable to budge from the spot. „Now, now, Corrigan. That‘s no way to behave yourself“ was the only reply. Greg grabbed my chin and forced my mouth open, pouring way too much of the liquid down my throat. The reaction was almost immediate. I felt that familiar warmth travelling down to my cock, and Greg pushed himself between my spread legs and got to work. He vacuumed up my swelling cock and violently bobbed his head back and forth, getting my cock and balls and thighs slick with spit. All the while, grunts and shatters could be heard as Mark and Shawn wrestled for dominance and destroyed everything in their wake. Shawn had some size on Mark and also enjoyed the advantage of being on the wrestling team. At the moment, Shawn was on top of Mark and had him in a headlock. Mark was struggling for breath and looked up at me with tears streaming down his eyes. Mark managed to elbow Shawn in the gut, but the wall of muscle took the blow with little shock. Shawn grabbed Mark‘s bulging arm and began turning him around, removing his own spandex shorts in the process. Soon, his tube steak‘bobbed freely, swinging with the rhythm of struggle. „That‘s right, fucker,“ spat Shawn, „now you see who‘s numero uno, who‘s the alpha.“ He ground against Mark, letting his big sausage slide between Mark‘s pert butt, the river of pre acting as lubricant. All the while, Greg was hoovering up my precum and growing ever more heavy as he straddled my legs. I saw his pecs, jiggling with muscle, his large nipples pointing straight down, his thick traps and full delts, the dick-skin stretched tight and veins visible. Fuck, I wasn‘t going to last long, these huge muscles were really turning me on! I cast a look of defeat as I caught Mark‘s gaze. He was turning blue and looked about to pass out. Shawn was pistoning in and out of his muscular ass, deep dicking him for what it was worth, all the while holding Mark in the tightest of chokeholds. His monstrous biceps bulging in every direction and preventing Mark from catching any breath. Shawn smiled up at me as he continued rutting. I couldn‘t last much longer. Shawn was aware of this, laughed and looked at me: „thought you‘d get away, little buddy! I hope you‘re ready for a night of fun, because my bro and I have quite the program planned for you!“ As he said this, I recalled the hot rape session earlier and blew my load into Greg‘s waiting throat. He was ready and greedily sucked up everything I had to give. I felt him growing between my legs, the veins criss-crossing his arms growing all the more pronounced, his back expanding even wider. At the same time, I heard Shawn moan loudly. He released the now-limp body of Mark, whose girth fell to the floor with a loud thud, and came up to the bed, enjoying the sight of Greg growing before his eyes. Greg did a double biceps pose and I couldn‘t help stay stiff as a flag pole watching the muscle pile on his already large frame. Suddenly, Shawn was next to me, whispering in my ear: „you want my sausage inside you, little buddy?“ „Fuck you!“ I shouted. Before I could say more, Greg had shoved his now 11 inch tool down my throat. I couldn‘t do anything but allow him to face fuck me. I felt another body on the bed, as Shawn positioned hismelf between my legs. He placed his 14 inch monster at my spit-lubed hole. He rammed himself in and his dick graced my prostate almost immediately. Precum spurt out of my cock, which Shawn grabbed and licked off his fingers. I could feel him swell a bit more inside me. At this I moaned around Greg‘s large member. This caused him to thrust in deeped, his back sliding against my cock, which dripped more precum onto him. I felt his cock swell just a bit in my throat. Jesus, I thought. This is fucked up and yet I couldn‘t help but get off completely by being abused by these two monsters! What was I to do? Resigned to my helplessness, I started pushing my ass back to meet Shawn‘s huge member, doing my best to regulate my breathing as the second cock ravished my throat. All the while, I thought of that room full of pungeant, masculine muscle jocks, using me to get even bigger. I could see Shawn‘s enormous sweating shoulders, rippling with freakish muscle, behind Greg‘s slightly smaller, but equally impressive frame. I looked up at Greg‘ ripped cobblestone abs, his happy trail that led up to perfect square pecs and perfect nipples. I reached out and squeezed Greg‘s nipples. He leaned back and moaned and again brushed my cock, which was hard as a lava stone, as I felt him swell again in my mouth, I reached the point of no return and shot load after load into the air, some landing on Greg‘s back, some on Shawn‘s abs. Both mean moaned and came in unison. Shawn‘s already enormous fuckstick taking up even more space in my ass as it continued to slowly piston and unloaded its hot juices inside me, and Chris‘ cock choking me in a torrent of salty cum, the head growing and suffocating me. I was overwhelmed in pleasure tinged with foreboding and guilt. „Fucking awesome!“ said Shawn and, turning around to Mark‘s body, „too bad your buddy couldn‘t join in the fun!“ Turning back to us, Shawn – obviously the alpha in the room, with Mark knocked out – asked „whose ready for round three?“ „Fuck yeah“ came the response from Greg, who was standing in front of our door, admiring the growth in the mirror. And what growth it was. The multiple loads had further converted Greg into a formidable form. „But first, do y‘all have a scale?“ „Yea bro, just down the hall in the bathroom!“ Shawn answered, himself glancing in the mirror and bouncing his humongous pecs as the space before the mirror cleared. Shawn was truly Godly. He could hold par with the hugest super heavyweight bodybuilders. His thighs were thicker than his waist, his pecs were shapely masses even with his arms over his head. His neck was at least as thick as his head. His lats would make it difficult to enter the room normally, or walk through any door. And swinging between his legs, the largest and fattest dick I had ever seen. Shawn glanced at me through the mirror, smirking as he saw my hard-on. „So little buddy, I see you like what you see! We‘re going to have alot of fun with you now…“ He turned around and said, almost lovingly, „you love making me like this, don‘t you Corrigan?“ „Fuck you!“ I spat. „Untie me!“ Shawn approached the bed, his huge pole leading him toward my prone form. Marc‘s unmoving body lay crumpled on the floor. Greg would soon return from his auto-worship session. I didn‘t know how this would end… God, what was going to happen to me? To follow my own transformation to Pure Muscle™, visit here.[

“Who are you both? I ask again” Geoffrey was more confused than anything else, seeing both very muscular naked men, the embodiment of masculinity, in front of him. ”I should call for Dr. Anthony” ”No need, Geoffrey. I am Dr. Anthony. Or I used to be, I was reborn as Zeus a bit ago, your brother, Grant, was somehow transformed, and he gifted me his new powers.” Geoffrey was listening, even if he couldn’t understand. ”You are not Dr. Anthony... dad? This is... impossible” ”It used to be, son, but years of research have brought its fruits. The world will never be the same. Our world will never be the same. Me and the scientists have been working for the development of the serum for years, and it is a success! Not only one specimen, but a whole family!” ”No, this cant be! How did you both... I am too tired for this”. ”Not for long, brother. Our family is torn apart, we don’t share the same DNA anymore. But you can change this. Join us, brother, join us and be transformed.” ”I am too tired to deal with this, I’m leaving for a walk” He was reaching again for the door, but as he was walking outside of the lab, Zeus pressed a button, and the door was shut down. ”We need to discuss this in depth, son. You can’t turn your back on your family, your future brother in arms! You shall transform” ”No, I won’t, whatever is happening here, I am not taking part of this.” “Brother, you already are, you are stepping in our seed, which is everywhere on this lab. It will break through your shoes and enter in contact to your skin, transforming you. You can go the slow way, or let me offer you my gift” ”I am fine with my shoes, thank you” But the shoes were being eroded, and as he made another step, he slipped on the lake of cum on the lab, and fell on the floor. The cum entered in contact with his skin, causing a massive amount of pain, he screamed. ”GAH! This burns!” ”It is happening, brace yourself, you are about to turn into a sublime soldier” ”GAH! No! What... is... happening to me?” As his face and hands were covered in cum, his transformation was happening. He got into his knees and cried for help, but father and son were roaring with every cry. His body was growing, the thin angelical body of Geoffrey was metamorphosing. His abs came to life, so did his chest, his heart was beating strongly and he was still crying as his shirt was being torn apart by his growing muscles. ”GRAAAAAAAAAAAH” he shouted a deep gutural roar as his hair was burning with the cum in it, the cum covered his whole body, head to toe, passing through his nose and mouth, his eyes were burning as well, being remade. Zeus and Saturn watched with pride their new creation, the birth of the new brother in arms. ”So you are my father” said Geoffrey with a thick deep voice, still transforming, “Grant, whatever happened to you, fuck, this is good” ”You are turning into a God, embrace it” ”Roar, ROAR!” The transforming Geoffrey bellowed. His skin was being reformed, his muscles were at the height of his power, being transformed into a huge machine of war. His shoulders alone could sustain the whole world, his abs going as deep down to his cock as they could. And his fucking cock, stretching thick and powerful, reducing to nothing what was left of his shorts. ”I...... am... remade! How is this possible?” Geoffrey couldnt believe it yet. His whole body was covered in his new metalic skin, he was feeling a pleasure he never felt, and still, he couldn’t believe it 100%. He roared and bellowed as he was discovering his new body, touching himself and masturbating, cumming and passing his cum through his body. He was even stronger and more vigorous than Saturn. This was the birth of Apolo. Soon, his family greeted him, after he finished his pleasurable moment. ”We are one now. You joined us, the family is reunited”. The three roared, and proceeded to explore each other’s bodies in celebration. The soldiers were here, stronger than any scientist could ever dreamt of. Life would never be the same, neither for the new Men, neither for anyone else. But for now, pleasure reigned supreme in the house of Anthony.

His father returned to the lab and saw the creature he unwillingly created. The creature then said, on a deep thick voice: "Hello father". "WHO ARE YOU?" "I am your son, Grant, or I used to be Grant, I'm not sure of my new name, now, I can't possibly go as Grant after this change, this metamorphosis. Thank you, Father, you did this to me, and I, in return, will transform you" "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT" "I must spread my seed, and you are bond to become my father and brother. I will transform you and you will become like me, only then can we become a family again. Only then can we be as equals. This research project is over, is a success, we will have long years to catch up, and this will be a new beginning, prepare yourself." Anthony first instinct was to run, and run he did, but Grant was faster. Grabbing his father, he gave him a hug, as if prepping his father for the upcoming transformation. Grant roared and siringes came from his nipples and into the body of Anthony. Much to his horror, the cock of Grant also injected his seed on Anthony's scrotum. It was painful and Anthony felt many things at once, as betrayal, confusion, anger, disgust. He wanted this to be over. It was a long minute, after that, Grant released his father, and said "It is done, you shall transform" And he did, Anthony couldn't handle the pain and went on his knees, crying, begging for mercy, asking why this was happening to him, Grant observed proudly. "You will enjoy this. Embrace your new being, father, you and I will be one!" The muscles of the man came to life, his pecs inflated, becoming like balls of so big, so strong, so powerful, so did his abs, every single ab enhanced and sculpted in a raw masculine way. He was roaring now, feeling pain, and resisting the pleasure. "FEEL THIS, FATHER, BECOME A GOD, EMBRACE THE TRANSFORMATION" The muscles of the man were a wonder to behold, his clothes were ripping now, slowly revealing an extremely powerful body, even more powerful than of his son. He was roaring, resisting as he could, but he knew it was a lost battle. His dogtag was revealed in the change, was hidden beneath his disappearing clothes, ripping sheets covering his powerful muscles. "YOU SEE THIS TAG, ANTHONY YOU ALWAYS WANTED THIS, EMBRACE, BECOME ONE WITH YOUR SON, WE ARE BROTHERS" "AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! UHHHH UGAH!!!!!!!!!!! I AM BEING REFORMED, I CANT RESIST ANY LONGER" "YOU WILL BE TRANSFORMED" "I WILL BE TRANSFORMED, SON" "DONT CALL ME SON, WE ARE NOT FATHER AND SON ANY LONGER, WE ARE SUBLIME SOLDIERS! CALL ME SATURN" "I WILL BE ZEUS" "YOU WILL BE REMADE" "I WILL BE REMADE" By each passing sentence, the voice of Anthony became octaves low. "YOU WILL IMPROVE YOUR PERFORMANCE" "I WILL IMPROVE MY PERFORMANCE" "YOU WILL SUBMIT TO THE ENHANCEMENT WITHOUT WORRY" "TRANSFORMATION, I DEPOSIT MY LIFE IN YOU, CHANGE ME, I WANT MORE" "YOU WILL SUBMIT TO THE ENHANCEMENT WILLINGLY" "I SHALL TRANSFORM" "YOU ARE EAGER TO BECOME AN ENHANCED SOLDIER" "I AM A SUBLIME SOLDIER, AND I AM ZEUS, UGAH!" "YOU ARE PROUD TO BE ENHANCED" "I KICK MY CHEST WITH PRIDE, AND I EMBRACE YOU, SATURN" "YOU WILL SPREAD THE SEED" "I WILL SPREAD THE SEED" "YOU EMBRACE THE CHANGE WITH PASSION" "I EMBRACE IT WITH PASSION" "YOU WILL ROAR" "GROOOOOOWWWWWLLLLLLL" "ROOOOOAAAARRR" He tried to resist but he could not, and Anthony turned into Zeus. The transformation was over, and former father and son first bumped their chests in salutation, then hugged each other. They were reunited. Saturn knew Zeus had to release himself, so he dedicated of turning this into a rite of passage for his former father. Grabbing his huge cock, he masturbated his father with vigor, as he roared almost breathless, when he came, he licked his father seed, feeling stronger with every gulp.

PREFACE: He was just getting out of his teenage years, but still was on his youth, Grant. Was young and had a delicate face. His life on the planet was an average one. Most people are homeschooled in this new world, so was he, and he grow to be quite the smart kid. Of course, with the father he had, the scientist, a brilliant one. But he didn't know much about his father's work. Anthony worked in the military facility of the Colony, there was much to be done. The human soldiers were powerless on this new environment, and the sooner the leaders of such colony realized that, they decided that only genetic engineering could save them from the hostile alien fauna, the miasma, and the other colonies. For many years, the project was based on creating enhanced humans from scratch. Since they were babies raised to be special soldiers, with special abilities. Anthony was from day 1 involved in the project, so he settled in the military district with his family. It was an irony that Grant and his brother grew on such environment, they could be further from soldiers, his father didn't want them to go on his direction, neither his mother, neither Both of them, dedicated to knowledge and culture from the Old Earth. Such was life for them. First the scientists tried to raised the would-be-enhanced-soldiers, but that turn to be extremely expensive for the colony, only 3 specimen survived the childhood, and neither of the 3, with their strong free will, wanted to go on the military path. This was not a dictadorship, so the enhanced humans grew to be scholars such as their "parents", the scientists. Then they decided to harvest them like crops, the enhanced humans, to skip childhood and teenage years, straight to mature soldiers ready to serve. This was more successful, though still incredibly expensive, and that didn't bare many fruits, something was missing, Anthony knew that. After many trials, for him, an idea started itching his mind, a dangerous one: to turn regular humans into super soldiers, sublime ones, even. He brought the idea to the council, and it was vividly debated. But even if it was being considered, something was missing: how to transform one into such creature, flawlessly? Genesis was the missing link. When Anthony heard of the story of the creature that came to visit its old base, that claimed to be the soldier once known as Topher, but that suffered such a transformation it became unrecognizably powerful, more than a man, a God, he had to go there and study the creature. Anthony quickly traveled to the location and talked to him, to Genesis. They had a revealing conversation, where Genesis told him that he was blessed by the planet on such way he was forever changed. The more they talked, the more Anthony gathered information, and a plasma sample from the God amongst them. It was revolutionary. The missing link provided the scientists with precious information for their studies, everything was held in secrecy, with key scientists being the head of teams of research. Anthony was one of them, his house became a secret lab, while Grant and his Brother lived there, the mother was gone at this point, she unfortunately was deceased at this moment in time. Anthony dealt with the grief by focusing even further on the studies. Thanks to his dedication, everything was advancing very fast, and by each passing week a milestone was reached. At one point, one prototype, a very delicate and secret machine, was brought into Anthony's lab, and entrusted to him. This is where this should end. But it's now that the story begins. CHAPTER 1 Life shifted for Grant when his mother died and his father became further and further invested into the secret project. Anthony became increasingly alienated from his family. Grant and his brother, a younger version of him, called Geoffrey, were friends, but they missed their father. Once upon a time they were allowed to visit the lab and even to study there, a couple of years have passed and that was not the case any longer. Grant and Geoffrey missed their father. They were living under the same roof, but they barely could see each other. The situation was weird, and became unsuferable for Grant, who decided to investigate why such secrecy, even if his brother Geoff told him not to put his finger on stuff that could be potentially dangerous, Grant didn't listen to him. One day, for whatever reason, his father had to leave the laboratory, and forgot to close the doors. He wasn't expecting what happened next. As soon as Grant discovered that, he knew this was his chance to start investigating, he went to the lab and saw how things changed there, it was a darker place, packed with papers and formulas that he didn't want to touch, of course. Too much information for him at the same time. Then he saw it, the machine. It was glowing a blue light, and it consisted of a very heavy cilinder of the size of a grown man, it was begging to be analised closer, Grant, still studying the papers, went for the machine, he put the papers on the bureau closer and entered in it, studying it. He didn't know, slowly, the doors of the machine were shut, and he was trapped. He was a calm guy and didn't panic, but he tried to break free, and he could not, he could do little, anyway, as soon as the doors were closed, a voice said "specimen detected, starting process". More curious than scared, his scientist side were at a hundred miles now, he observed as the chamber was filled with a very thick liquid. He was properly dressed, but when the substance reached his skin, it hurt like hell and he screamed. Now his scientist side was shut down, and he started to scream for help, beg for mercy, and to cry of panic, the liquid was rising slowly, and the process was agonizing for Grant, as he slowly observed the chamber being filled with the liquid and he skin burning with it. It was like the hair of his body was on fire with the contact with the liquid. When he was fully covered, Grant was convinced he was doomed, he was preparing to die. But he didn't die, even if it was still burning, he noticed, once the chamber was filled with the liquid, that he could breathe in the substance. Also, he couldn't see the exterior surroundings any longer, being like in front of a huge mirror. He could see himself and his clothes floating, and started to notice that his clothes were starting to dissolve, very slowly. It was like the machine was trying to convince him to be calm. Then it happened. A strong voice filled the chamber and a text was displayed on the "mirror", the voice said as it follows, over and over, louder and louder: YOU ARE AN OBEDIENT SOLDIER YOU WILL BE TRANSFORMED YOU EAGERLY ACCEPT THE CONDITIONING YOU WILL BE REMADE YOU WILL IMPROVE YOUR PERFORMANCE YOU WILL SUBMIT TO THE ENHANCEMENT WITHOUT WORRY YOU WILL SUBMIT TO THE ENHANCEMENT WILLINGLY YOU ARE EAGER TO BECOME AN ENHANCED SOLDIER YOU ARE PROUD TO BE ENHANCED YOU WILL SPREAD THE SEED YOU EMBRACE THE CHANGE WITH PASSION YOU WILL ROAR ... Meanwhile, electric shocks stroke Grant over and over and he transformed, too much information at the same time, he screamed in pain, in anger, in reject to every sentence the voice said, and he was being transformed, he felt pain as his muscles came to life, his weak body was slowly but surely replaced with the body of a monster. His pecs inflated vigorously, becoming enhanced by every minute, they became strong, large, imposing, defined, sculpted, and so did his abs, all 6, no, 8, no, 10 abs came to life, begging to come out of his skin, his burning skin, he smelled flesh as he was reformed, all of his body was enhanced by the transformation, his arms became huge and powerful, like the arms of the strongest soldier, his shoulders came to life too, becoming rigid and gigantic, his neck had to fight to survive on this environment, being swallowed by its pecs and shoulders. His face became enhanced, his delicate completion was no more, being replaced by a strong chin, powerful nose, vibrating eyes, square jaws. His hair did burn, and was reduced to a buzzcut, a very rudimentary one. Even his penis grew, because his production of testosterone was dramatically increased in order to sustain such body. His clothes were gone, he was a powerful machine of war now, in everything but his mind, as he refused to let the program in. But to his surprise, it was not his instinct who capitulated to the transformation, but his intelect, he thought: I am transformed. I am remade, I am no longer Grant, whether I like it or not. Look at my body, this is not what I wanted, but it's a gift from my father nonetheless. Look at my body, wow, look at the abs, at the pecs, at the arms, at the biceps! I'm not even flexing! Fuck, yes, fuck, I am a soldier now, I can swear all that I want. I feel... free! Look at my fucking cock, look at my fucking manhood! My balls, they tremble with sperm, my seed, ready to be released. I will spread the seed, since there is no way I can resist this change, it is done, forever, engraved, I shall embrace it with passion! In order to maximize my performance I should be an obedient soldier, I should be proud to be enhanced! Yes, this is my destiny, this is who I am now! I accept you, transformation, turn me into the beast I'm destined to become! And I will transform others too, I have the power to do so. The transformation ended, the liquid was absorbed by his body and a new strong skin was formed, covering his body like a soft blanket. The chamber was opened, and he roared in satisfaction, and not being able to contain himself anymore, he grabbed his cock and slowly masturbated, masturbated like he never had done in his life, he was free to do whatever he desired. He was thinking only of his new body and his vigor, his horniness, he was transformed, he masturbated, and then he came, gush after gush of cum came out of his cock, covering his body and the lab, the gush was strong, and the cum was thick and silver, he roared and licked the cum, as if believing that would enhance his new powers. His father returned to the lab and saw the creature he unwillingly created. The creature then said, on a deep thick voice: "Hello father".

Story removed

Hello to you who may read this story, first of all I would like to thank Hialmar and DieselMass for the wonderful pieces and for inspiring me to write this homage to their style. Second, I was torn between making the story a full dialogue or fully description based, this is the final result, let me know if it is confusing, but well, hope you enjoy it ——————————————————— He wakes up on this cylinder, naked and there is this dog tag posing on his pec, with the number 0605. Panic rises fast.. -Hey? What is this? Why am I trapped here? What is this on my neck? Why am I naked? Let me out! LET ME OUT! PLEASE! SOMEONE!- The place appears to be desert, he keeps on screaming for help even so. Soon the cylinder starts to be filled with a thick liquid, the contact with his skin hurts him. -UGH! AAH! THIS BURNS! LET ME OUT LET ME OUT! He keeps on screaming and the liquid slowly fills the chamber. This one is dense, at a certain point it becomes hard to move, the substance slowly burns his skin and he keeps on screaming until the chemistry on the substance makes him quieter. The room is quiet now, he is floating on the center of the cylinder. It’s like he’s back into sleeping, but he’s wide awake. It all happens on his mind, where his ears start to capture sounds. -INTERNAL DIALOGUE- ”You have been selected for the program”. What do you mean, selected? I want to get out. ”Negatory, you will be made useful by the process.” Process? ”You will obey” I don’t want to obey. ”You soon will obey” I doubt that. Ah this hurts! “The process is being felt by 0605, it begins” This hurts so much! Agh! What is happening to me? My whole body, I feel stronger! My muscles, I feel them. ”You will be made present” What do you mean? Ahh! My pecs! They burn! My skin! If I could just move! Ugh! Ah! ”You will be remade” My abs! What is happening? What is this?! It hurts! Ahh! ——————————————————— He feels pain as his body transforms, and the voice keep on going. He feels pain, as his pecs expand, his abs come to life, his traps are remade, his quads become stronger. He is transforming. Ah! This hurts so good! Aahh!!! Aaaaahh!! Aa augh ”You enjoy the procedure” This is starting to feel good! Agh! My pecs, they are getting bigger! If only... Ah! My abs! I wanna feel them! ”You become the soldier” I become the soldier? ”Reprogramming your mind” Agh! This is getting better! I must... I must fight this! I need to return to... my life! Ugh! Such... pleasure! My penis is getting... is it expanding too? Ugh! It feels... stronger now! I am... a soldier! With a body like this... I should... Gah... indeed be a soldier... it’s getting... It’s getting better! Must... fight... Look at my arms! My arms! So big! So strong! Ugh! Ugah! Oh... I am... a soldier! Oh Fuck! Look at my... cock! It’s huge! I want to... fuck! My abs! My fucking cock! I need to... transform. My body! Ugah! Uhh! Uhh! UHH! I WANT MORE! I WANT TO GET BIGGER! I’m becoming... a fucking God! Tremble... humans! YES! I WANT MORE! I WANT... 0605 WANTS FUCK!!! LET ME FUCK! ”iniciating metamorphosis” WHAT THE... AAGH!!! FUCK! MY SKIN! BURNS! AGHHHH!! BOILS!!! Reform. My bones, AGAH! Expanding! Must, be, more. Must, be, monster! 0605 wants fuck! ——————————————————— He is transformed, his body is expanded, his muscles are glorious, his horns are powerful, his metallic skin increases his potency. Only one desire on his mind now: to masturbate, and masturbate others. The liquid soon is absorbed by his body and the cylinder opens, he is able to move. He jerks off furiously and groans on a thick dense voice. UGHH UGHHH FUCK MORE! 0605 A GOD! UGH UGAH! He masturbates strongly and when he comes he roars vigorously, after that, he licks every drop of cum he can, like a starving beast. He is reformed, and ready for action. He is Soldier 0605

Keith had a restless night. The minute he’d hit his bed, he had sunk into a deep, dark sleep. Strange images of a little grey, octopus-like thing sliding across his body had haunted him. Shivers had run along his muscular body. He shot up atop his bed, inhaling deeply. “Finally awake, sleepy head?” He looked up and saw Matt standing in the doorway leading to their bathroom. “What time is it?”, Keith asked somewhat groggily, noticing his sheets were drenched with sweat that was still sliding along his torso. “6.15 p.m.”, Matt replied, “You almost slept for 11 hours. I just got back from the gym.” Keith looked at Matt, who was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his muscular waist. His arms and shoulders still looked pumped from his workout. “Seems like you could also use a shower. Man, the entire rooms stinks of your sweat. I’ve got a date tonight so you have the room to yourself”, Matt said. Keith got up from his bed and walked to the bathroom. “Have fun, man”, he said with a grin and entered the shower. The shower worked wonders: the hot water made Keith’s muscles relax. He felt his balls churn and moved his right hand down to cup them. “Aughn”, he groaned as his fingers made contact with his over-sensitive balls. They felt a bit bigger than normal and he quickly turned off the water and moved in front of the large mirror. His balls did look a bit swollen. His entire body seemed a bit saggy, his muscles lacking their usual hardness. “A night of bad sleep. Most be some kind of flu”, he said to his reflection. Right then, his stomach growled loudly. He patted his six-pack, dried off, and walked toward their little fridge. He began eating and kept going until every ounce of food was down his body. He even eat the protein powder in the two tubs. He then gulped down two gallons of milk and burped. His right hand patted his somewhat bloated six-pack as he walked back to his bed. He got in and dozed off, not even hearing his roommate return deep into the night. The sound of water running pulled Keith from his sleep. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and felt his cock pulse inside his boxers. A grin formed on his face and his left hand disappeared beneath the sheets, moving toward his shaft. It disappeared inside his boxers and grabbed his morning wood. He began pumping his shaft. He felt his body heat rising as he stroked away. “This time you’re awake.” The remark made Keith return to the present. His roommate had just emerged from their bathroom. His hand froze atop his shaft as he looked at Matt. “I’m gonna grab us some food ‘cause you ate everything in the fridge. Make sure you’re ready to hit the gym when I return”, Matt said as Keith got up from his bed. “You’re not impressing me with that 8 little inches of cock”, Matt added with a grin toward Keith’s tented boxers before he headed out. Keith watched his roommate leave and then walked over inside the bathroom, dropping his boxers. He entered the shower cabin. Instantly a mixture of shower gel and musk hit his nose. He looked at the tilled wall and saw the sticky remains of his roommate’s orgasm slowly sliding down toward the floor. He didn’t know why, but the white liquid seemed to pull in his attention. Lick it A strange voice inside him seemed to whisper to him. Keith blinked a few times but felt his body move toward the tilled wall for some unknown reason. Feed…hunger… Lick it The next moment Keith’s mind went dark as the organism took full control of him. As his vision went dark, his body bent down, stuck out his tongue and licked the cum from the tilled wall. His tongue slide along the cold tiles as he licked away the last sticky remains his roommate had left on the wall. His vision returned as he stood back up. He blinked a few times, not knowing what had just happened and felt his cock smack against his six-pack. Mechanically, his right hand grabbed his shaft and stroked it roughly. Within seconds he was panting, his muscles hardened and he came. He threw back his head in pure bliss and closed his eyes. “UGHN”, he bellowed loudly. Inside him, the organism absorbed the cum pushed out by Keith’s balls. Unknown to Keith since he had his eyes closed, his cock blasted out a dusty cloud instead of its usual blasts of cum. He reopened his eyes as he heard his roommate come back inside the adjacent part of their room and turned off the water. He toweled off his body, put on his clothes and emerged fully energized from the shower. He followed Matt to the gym and had the workout of a lifetime, feeling stronger and more energized than ever. “Geez, what did you have for breakfast?”, Matt asked after their workout. He had struggled to keep up with the pace of his roommate. “Back on top, little guy”, Keith replied, “Let’s grab some diner. This one’s on me.” The next morning Keith awoke first. He heard his roommate’s calm breathing on the other side of the room. He got up and went into the bathroom. He sighed as the hot water cascaded down onto his broad, muscular back. He rubbed the shower gel along his torso, sliding his hands across his chest. Down below, he felt his 8 incher smack hard against his six-pack, begging for release. His left hand played with his nipple as his right hand closed around his rock-hard shaft. “Upf” Keith felt the tension build up inside him as a soft moan escaped his throat. His breathing got faster, his strokes longer and harder… “Dude, how much more time do you need?” The sound of his roommate’s voice and the knock on the matted glass pulled Keith back to reality. He noted the silhouette of Matt’s muscular body through the glass. He stroked his cock a final time as he was so close to his edge. “UGHRN!!!!!” Keith roared as his entire body jerked. His vision went dark from the pleasure that washed over his body. Like a day earlier, the organism inside him fed upon the cum produced by his balls. Before the liquid could reach the end of his shaft, it was consumed by the organism. His cock produced four large clouds of dust that sprayed in the air toward the ceiling. He reopened his eyes and gave his cock a final jerk. He inhaled deeply, turned off the water and stepped out of the shower cabin. He froze in his tracks as he saw his fully nude roommate standing against the sink. He noted the smug grin on Matt’s face who handed him a towel. “Hope you didn’t smear you cum all over the shower. Man, I think they heard you roar three rooms further”, Matt said as he moved toward the shower cabin. He pushed Keith aside and inspected the shower cabin. “Seems like ya produce more noise than cum, bud”, he said and turned his head to see his roommate leave the bathroom. He stepped inside the shower cabin and closed it. He breathed in, inhaling the cloud of dust produced by Keith and then turned on the shower. “Ready for class, dude?”, Matt asked 10 minutes later as he emerged from the bathroom. He grabbed his backpack and followed Keith to their lecture. After the boring lecture the two buds got back to their room to drop off their books, grabbed their workout gear and headed straight for the gym. Like the day before, Keith had an excellent workout. He hit a new PB on the bench press. This time however, Matt managed to keep up with his bigger friend. His energy was through the roof and he outworked his roommate on every exercise they did: he pumped out more reps and an additional set with weights that were only slightly less. By the end of their training, his sweat-drenched shirt hugged his pumped torso like a second skin. “Ow yeah”, Matt growled to his reflection as he threw a most muscular in front of the large mirror. The seams of his shirt popped open a bit at the sides as his pumped lats pushed the overstretched fabric past breaking point. “Someone’s having a good day. Looking good, man”, Keith said appreciatively. “So much energy”, Matt let out and hardened his flex some more. An obvious tearing sound signaled that his shirt lost the battle against his pumped lats. “Ya better got some new shirts”, Keith added with a grin. He blinked as his roommate ripped off his shirt and exposed his pumped torso. Every muscle on Matt’s torso seemed ready to burst through his skin. The shiny layer of sweat only added to the image. “Let’s shower”, Matt said and strutted past his buddy toward the locker room. Inside Keith, the organism was gathering more knowledge of his host. It lay in a near-dormant status inside his host, consuming very little of the man’s testosterone to avoid weakening him any further. It used its previous knowledge from the experiences in the lab in its advantage: it had acquired the knowledge not to drain the precious testosterone completely and kill the host. It was slowly bonding with the human body to survive on this new planet. Having been the dominant species on Mars for several centuries before falling into a near-fossilized state the tests inside the spaceship had brought it back to life. The rats had been a good snack and the first male had fallen victim to its overpowering hunger and urge to feed. The period inside the nurse had allowed it to get to know the dominant species on this planet. The lack of testosterone had forced it to feed upon itself and diminishing to almost nothing until the strong scent of pheromones given off by this young specimen of the opposite sex had pulled it back from its dormant state. Taking control of the female host to gain access to the male had been easy: these beings were no match for the impulses of the organism. It wondered how this species had managed to become the dominant one on this planet: it instinctively knew it could destroy these beings within seconds. Ever since entering the young male, it had been getting stronger feeding on his testosterone and the remains of spore the other male left on the cold surface in the rainy space they called ‘shower’. As it grew stronger and gained more insight in the functioning of its host, it began fusing slowly with its host. Two days later, Keith was changing into his football gear in the locker room as Matt patted him on the back and laughed as he hung onto his shoulders. “Heard some rumors you made Stacey a bit sore”, Matt said grinningly. Keith turned his head to look at him. “What…” “Geez, man”, Matt went on with his grin, “just crossed her on my way over here. She was still walking kind a strange. Heard the rumors there were very load groans coming from her room and ya were seen leaving pulling on yar shirt.” He squeezed his buddy’s shoulder more tightly. “Ya should ‘ve seen her face: smiling like a child on Christmas.” A grin formed in response on Keith’s face. He felt his legs working more and harder than usual to support his roommate’s body. Is he bulking?, he asked to himself, knowing that Matt had had excellent workouts the past three days. “Well, bud? No details?”, Matt asked. Keith felt some fatigue spread through his quads from supporting his roommate. He shrugged him off and went back to changing. “Ya could say I wore her out,” he let out. That’s the least, he thought as his mind went back to earlier that afternoon. He had been strangely horny and had pumped his cock into Stacey until she was begging for mercy. “Hope ya saved some energy for practice, bud”, Matt added and got changed himself. At the end of the week, Keith was standing in front of the mirror in their bathroom. He was looking at his shirtless reflection. He had lost about 10 pounds, making him look more ripped. “All this running at least got the summer pounds from partying off me”, he said to himself. “Yo, Keith. Ya in here?”. Matt’s voice made Keith turn his attention from his own reflection. “In here”, he replied and walked over to the adjacent room. He blinked as he saw his roommate standing at the end of his bed. “Back from the gym?”, he asked. “Nope. Class until now. Still have to hit the gym”, Matt replied as he turned around to face him. Keith couldn’t believe what he saw: his roommate filled out his shirt to perfection. Matt’s traps pushed the fabric slightly upward as his delts pulled it snugly around their round mass. His sleeves only came up to the top part of his biceps that filled them to their max even though his arms hung at his sides. A prominent vein ran along the side of the relaxed bicep and several smaller ones branched from it and crossed across the width of the upper arms. His forearms were decorated by more veins. The front of the shirt hugged his bigger pecs protruding more prominently from his chest. The shirt hung loosely around his midsection. “Wait… You don’t come from the gym? Geez… you look pumped as fuck, man. Guess you just need a bigger shirt then. Seems like this one shrunk”, Keith let out with a hint of disbelief. “Been growing like a weed. Like a second growth spurt or something”, Matt replied, “Gained like 20 pounds this week…” “20 pounds in a week? Better go easy on the food, chubby”, Keith let out with a grin. “And it’s all muscle”, Matt went on and lifted his shirt to reveal a tight six-pack. Keith’s grin melted away from his face as he stared at the chiseled six-pack that looked more defined than his own. He hardened his abs reflexively to make his own six-pack look more defined. His mind did the quick math. Fuck, that puts him at the 230 pound mark, he thought. “Looking good, bud”, he said”, “I lost 10 pounds.” “Of fat”, he added quickly. “So, ya’re about 210 right now?”, Matt asked. “Guess I’m the bigger guy now: have 20 pounds of muscle on ya”, he added with a grin. Being more muscular than his roommate made a rush of adrenaline shoot through him. “You’re heavier, but I’m still taller, chubby”, Keith shot back playfully. His smile froze once more in mere seconds as Matt came closer: Keith always looked straight at Matt’s forehead but now he was staring straight into his roommate’s blue-green eyes. A look of calm realization of someone that knows he’s the bigger man stared back at Keith. “Guess again, buddy: 6 feet. Just like ya”, Matt stated, “but bigger”. He flexed his right arm, making an 18.5 inch orb of muscle explode into hardness. Keith’s gaze was torn from his roommate’s eyes to the rock-hard bicep. Almost instinctively he raised his own arm and flexed it. His own bicep stopped as it reached 17 inches. The difference was obvious: his arm was more ripped but lacked the size of Matt’s bulkier one. “Come on. Let’s hit the gym. Having the greatest workouts of my life all week. It’s like I have energy for five. Can’t wait to pump some iron”, Mat said while he relaxed his pose and went to fetch his workout gear. “Well, ya coming or not?”, he asked as he saw Keith still standing in the exact same place. “Yeah, sure. Just a sec”, Keith replied and shook his head as he too got his workout gear. Inside the gym, Keith was relieved that his strength wasn’t off despite being 10 pounds lighter. He managed to match his personal record and even cranked out two reps more than normal thanks to lots of help from his buddy. “Fuck yeah. 6 reps”, he grunted as he sat up on the bench. “More like 4 and a half and one and half from me”, Keith replied grinningly. “Come on, buddy, move. My turn”. He pulled half the weight from the bar. Keith was still inhaling deeply as he got up, took a sip from the drink his buddy handed him and moved behind the bar to spot Matt. Matt laid down on the bench, took a deep breath that made his torso expand, grabbed the bar and cranked out 20 quick reps. Carp. 20 pounds more than my warmup weight, Keith thought as he looked down on his roommate who did a second and third warmup set. “Right. Add some weight, bro”, Matt said while he racked the bar. He waited for Keith to add the a plate at either side and then did his first work set. “…8,9,10,11,12”, he grunted and racked the bar. “More weight”. Keith obeyed and added another plate at each side. He watched his buddy crank out 12 more perfect reps. “More weight”, Matt let out and stared up directly into his roommate’s eyes. Two more plates were added to the bar and he un-racked it, groaning a bit as he lowered it slowly to his chest. “…8,euh9,euh10”, he grunted between his teeth while his face began getting red. Keith ‘s hand were near the bar to help but his roommate completed his set without a problem. “More weight.” “Are you sure, man?”, Keith asked. His buddy’s look filled with determination convinced him: he added two more plates to the bar, making the weight on the bar equal his own record. “Yeah”, Matt groaned as he un-racked the bar and lowered it to his chest. His face reddened further as he pushed the bar up. He growled, a deep guttural sound escaping his mouth as he continued his set. “…argh… 4,…humpf5, 6, yeah… 7… 8…9” Keith watched in disbelief as his roommate outperformed him with a weight he was proud off benching himself. He gave a spot and helped his buddy complete his tenth rep. “Geez, Matt. 4 reps more than me”, he let out appreciatively. “More…like… five”, Matt replied between deep breaths, “ya only did 4 solid reps with this weight. I did 9 perfect ones.” “More weight”, he added. Keith blinked at the remark. His mind was still processing the fact that his buddy had outperformed him with this weight. “Maybe you should call it a day, Matt. I mean, you already did better than me. Why risk…”. “More weight, I said”, Matt interrupted forcefully. Keith obeyed the order. He added two more, smaller plates to the bar that was now 30 pounds heavier than before. He looked down feeling a hint worried. He noted how his buddy’s engorged pecs protruded clearly against the sweaty shirt. Further down, he also noted a clear lump in the guy’s shorts. Matt un-racked the bar and lowered it in a controlled manner. “Fuck yeah”, he growled as he performed his first rep. Two more perfect reps followed. His face was dark red from the effort, sweat sliding along his forehead and his arms shook as he did his fourth rep. his pecs felt like they were on fire as more blood was pumped into the muscles. Keith moved in as his roommate lowered the bar for a fifth rep. “NO!”, Matt groaned to make Keith pull back his hands. “….arghugh…5” Keith stared in full disbelief as the bar was lowered another time and moved back up very slowly. He saw Matt’s arms shake as they pushed the bar further up. “…a…6…”, Matt grunted as he completed his sixth rep. Keith moved in and helped his buddy rack the bar. His mouth hung open slightly as Matt stood up and turned to face him: the guy’s pecs stretched his shirt insanely tight across the wide surface and seemed ready to burst through the fabric. There was no doubt who was the bigger guy now. “Fuck yeah”, Matt let out as he moved his arms back and forth to harden and relax his chest. “So pumped. Feels like my pecs ware gonna rip through my skin”. He grabbed the drink his roommate handed him and gulped half it down. “Right. Some pushups to finish things off”, he said more than he asked and moved toward the other side of the gym. Keith wandered behind his buddy and laid down next to him on the mat. Pushups had always been his favorite finisher of a good chest workout. He began pumping out reps, focusing on his form and breathing. He glanced aside and saw that Matt’s rhythm was faster than his own. He upped his pace a bit. After 20 reps, he felt the mild burning sensation spread through his chest. His breathing also got faster. Next to him, Matt kept pushing out more reps. At 35 the burning sensation turned into a painful soreness. He managed to pull out 5 more sloppy reps before his muscles gave out. Matt grinned as his buddy crashed down on the mat. “Giving up already?”, he asked playfully while he turned his head slightly. “I’ll show ya how it’s done”, he added and went back to his pushups. Keith just stared as he laid there, trying to calm his breathing. Matt passed the mark of 60 pushups without any faltering in his form. At the 80th rep, his arms began shaking slightly. “More”, he groaned as his chest began burning again. He closed his eyes as he pumped out more reps. “90”, he heard Keith say in a tone with hints of disbelief. His arms now shook more violently and his pecs felt like they were going to rip from his chest but he refused to give in. “Mo…re”, he wheezed, trying to ignore the almost stabbing pain in his chest. Keith shook his head in awe as his buddy went down at his 99th rep. He sat up grabbed the half empty drink and handed it over to Matt. “Thanks, man”, Matt said and grabbed the drink as he laid down to catch his breath. “You’re crazy, man”, Keith said laughingly while he stood up, “Too bad you didn’t get out a 100 reps. Better luck next time.” Matt gulped down the last bit of his drink and rose to his feet. Keith took a step back involuntarily as his roommate stood up: Matt looked massive with his pumped torso. The guy’s chest was so pumped it had ripped small holes in the fabric of the sweat-soaked shirt. “Ya were right earlier: I’m gonna need bigger shirts”, Matt said and ripped away his shirt. Keith’s stomach growled as his roommate revealed his torso. Inside him, the organism reacted to the scent of sweaty musk and testosterone. “Fuck. My pecs feel like they’re gonna burst through my skin”, Matt stated and looked past Keith at his reflection, “Fuack. Look at my chest. Just insane”. Matt laughed at his reflection. Keith stared at the pumped pecs that had a reddish shine beneath the sweaty surface. His roommate’s pecs looked like they had doubled in size during their workout. “Man, I can’t even flex ‘em. There so pumped”, Matt said grinningly. “Fuck. There so hard”, he added as his right hand groped the pumped chest. “Feel ‘em” Keith blinked at the remark. “Come on, man. Don’t be shy”, Matt went on. Keith didn’t move. He felt Matt’s hand grab his wrist and move his right hand up. He felt the warmth emanating from the pumped muscle as his hand was brought in closer. He sighed slightly as his hand was placed atop the left pec. It felt like concrete heated by the sun. “Watcha think, man?”, Matt asked and released his buddy’s wrist. Keith didn’t react. Instinctively, his left hand joined his right and placed itself atop the other, pumped pec. His fingers tested the pumped muscle, but couldn’t dent the rock-hard surface. The sweaty odor filled his nose and drove the organism inside him wild. Matt placed his hands atop his hips and stood there as his roommate fell his pecs. Having outlifted his former bigger buddy and feeling his own rock-hard chest resist the grabbing fingers, made him feel like a total alpha. He felt his plump cock inflate further inside his shorts. He closed his eyes in pure satisfaction. The growling sound of Keith’s stomach pulled him back to reality. “Let’s shower and grab something to eat. Seems like yar more hungry than me”, he said and brushed away his roommate’s hands. The shower zone was deserted as they entered and Matt walked over to the furthest shower in the corner. His hard 9 incher smacking against his abs in the process. Keith followed and took the shower next to his buddy. He looked aside and saw that Matt was facing the wall. The guy’s back looked more like a V each day. Matt’s right arm was placed against the wall, making a thick tricep jut out at its back as he let the hot water cascade down on his pecs. Keith noticed the faint rocking movement his buddy was making and heard his breathing getting faster and deeper. He automatically got what was going on. “Yeauhgn!”. Matt bellowed as he came in long bursts against the wall. The orgasm washed over him as the excitement of the workout and the realization of his new status flooded his mind. He pumped five thick blasts from his cock before he calmed down. “So fucking horny this week”, he said to his buddy and turned off the shower. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, man”, he added and walked back to the locker room. Keith didn’t react. As his roommate strutted away, the organism violently grabbed full control of him. His vision went dark while his body moved toward the adjacent showerhead. He moved toward the wall and began licking away the cum. Within seconds, he had consumed the last evidence of the powerful orgasm. The organism absorbed the precious liquid and felt the surge of energy as it returned to the slow process of bonding with its host. “Ya coming?” The shouted question made Keith return to reality. He shook his head, turned off the shower and joined his roommate. He toweled off and got dressed quickly to follow his buddy to grab some dinner. They decided to go to a diner off campus that was popular among students they had discovered a year earlier as freshmen. “It’s on me”, Matt said as they finished their meal, “I’ll go pay and see ya outside”. Keith stared as his roommate got up and left him to finish his drink. He noticed a cute brunette getting up from the adjacent table to follow Matt. As he joined his roommate a few minutes later outside, Matt was flirting with the girl. “This is Gwen”, Matt said to Keith. “Gwen, this is my roommate Keith”, he said to the brunette. “I heard Stacey and some of the cheerleaders talk about you”, Gwen said to Keith. Keith grinned a bit, catching the wink Matt gave him and also noting that the brunette’s hand was caressing Matt’s bicep. “Gwen studies literature. She wants to show me some of the poems she wrote”, Matt added, “I’ll catch ya later, bud.” Keith shook his head at the lame excuse as he watched his roommate walk off with the brunette, his hand firmly on her ass. “Show him some poems…”, he said to himself as he walked back to the dorm. Hours later, Keith was awoken by the sound of the door. “Interesting poems?”, he asked as he rolled over on his other side without opening his eyes. “Well, she had two very nice ones”, Matt replied with a laugh. Keith heard his buddy pull off his clothes and get into bed. A few minutes later, he heard the gentle breathing coming from the other side of the room and he fell back asleep himself. Later that night, when Keith and Matt were sound asleep. The organism took full control of its host once again. The organism had discovered that somehow this other male responded to its spores of dust by producing more testosterone. This reaction made the other male produce more of the precious, white liquid it could feed on without having to drain its host. Therefor this other male was the perfect source and the organism fathomed it had to provide him with a daily dose of spores to sustain the process. The side effect was that the other male grew bigger for some reason. The organism didn’t comprehend why just yet, but knew it had to learn much more from its host and that his knowledge would come with the process of bonding. The increasing size of the other male could perhaps come in useful in the future. Unknowingly and his brain fully shielded off by the organism, Keith got up from his bed and moved over to the bed of his roommate. He lowered his boxers and began jerking his cock. Within seconds the 8 incher was at full mast and throbbed. Matt turned onto his other side in his sleep, facing the exposed cock as it exploded. 4 big clouds of dust were blown onto his face and disappeared down his nose as he breathed in. Robotically, Keith pulled up his boxers again and got back in his own bed. He drifted off in a deep sleep filled with strange dreams as his brain regained control of him.

Topher was lost in the forest of that very odd planet, and was starting to get very concerned. Even if he was born in this foreign place, he never got used to its surroundings, to its miasma, and wanted to change that when decided to be a part of the corps of his colony. It turned out to be a bad idea, being at the bottom of the hierarchy, he was put in menial tasks. This was supposed to be his first true mission, to just explore the region, but things went terribly wrong, and there he was, lost. Had his armour, but nothing could shield him from hunger and the dangerous nature, he had to go return to his headquarters. As he walked, not paying attention where he was stepping had a terrible price, caused him to fall on a deep hole. It was fast, he didn’t even have the time to think about it. At its bottom there was a lake, but not of water. It had a different name: Xenomass. Green and thick. His armour absorbed the impact, but his weight was too much for it to float on that piece of substance, even if it was thick. He sank into it. His despair was visible, as no human ever was exposed to the xenomass, and as the miasma, it was supposed to be toxic and deadly, it had no use to no one, and yet he was immersed in it, protected only by his armour. He was scared, but didn't scream, as he figured the armour would keep him safe. After a bit, he started to try to move his body, trying to reach the surface of the lake. Again, bad idea, the substance started to damage his equipment, to corrode it, and then layer by layer he was getting more vulnerable. Finally, it reached the last sheet before entering in contact to his skin. It was a matter of time before Xenomass would touch him. It happened, and the pain was extreme. He screamed, drowning on it, scared and feeling his skin burn, as the xenomass started to invade his last layer, it was quick, all his body was exposed to it. After a huge dreadful first encounter with it, he relaxed. He took it in. Something else, happened. Topher didn't die, but his body was offered to the planet, as a sacrifice, but the planet was benevolent. Exposed to the weird chemicals, he started to grow in size and in muscle. He started to develop. Before, he was a skinny awkward boy, but that started to change. Slowly, Topher was becoming more muscular and thicker, taller. More robust and resilient, tougher. His pecs soon started to grow, becoming large, defined, robust, hard, his nipples followed, and soon were pointing downwards. His abs came to life and were carefully sculpted by the substance, 6, then 8, hard packs, developed slowly but surely, carving into life his strength and endurance. His shoulders would greatly expand, becoming round, thick, huge and large, strong, enough to support a great deal of weight. His arms expanded, becoming huge and as muscular as ever, and so did his legs. Skinny awkward boy no more, he was getting big. The chemicals changed his DNA and the mutation became deeper, his burnt skin transformed, being covered by metalic scales, his teeth grew and sharpened, his feet and hands metamorphosed. His two feet became paws with 3 huge fingers with claws, and his hands were formed by 4 fingers with claws in it, his eyes boiled and melted away, reshaped and were covered by a multitude of lenses, becoming multifaceted, fractal, transformed and superior. All his hair was gone, and a group of horns appeared on his head and shoulders. His heart was obsolete, giving place to a strong plasma producer that would supply his body with his new needs. His lungs were transformed, and he could breathe through his skin, but his nose was kept. He was no human anymore, Topher gave in to a magnificent creature, that was about to come to life. The armour had disappeared, everything merged into him, his dogtag was now where his heart once was. The creature awakened from his frenzy and opened his changed eyes, coming to the surface quickly, and soon, he roared. But he was still human on his mind, so the roar made him scared, Topher soon realized the changes in his body and was desperate, he cried for help and begged for mercy, with his deeper and changed voice, and then he had a need to drink the xenomass, he did it like an animal. Confused and worried, he had no idea he had no need for anything, anymore, that this was a blessing. He could still talk but his voice was changed, similar to a growl, even if he still was the awkward guy in his mind, what was left of him. The self discovery journey was a long one, he spent weeks in the cave, learning that he needed xenomass now like a human needs water. He discovered how strong he was when he had to open passages through the walls, so frustrated he was by coming into dead ends. He discovered how powerful his vision was when he could see creatures hiding beneath the rocks. He slowly started to like his changes, to find beauty in it, seeing his new muscles made his cock awake. He was only vaguely sexually awaken by then, as a human, let alone as the creature, but his new powers made his cock hard, and since he was alone, he decided to relieve himself, he jerked off, first very timidly, then more confidently and finally he was enjoying a pleasure he never felt. He felt so many things when he came, felt aggressive, felt in charge, felt like he was meant to be the creature, he licked the cum in his hands and roared of satisfaction, this was a new beginning for him. This cave was his new home now, as he found out he needed no one anymore, he spent a month living in it after finally discovering a way out. That cave was his home, but he decided to pay a visit to his former brothers in arms. Not as Topher, but as Genesis.

New Breed: Super Mutants (Prologue) Hi all! My first time writing AND posting a story here. So, what happened was, I made a couple of morphs some time last year. Instead of posting them in the media section though, I thought I’d try my hands at writing and share their backstory too. Only got the chance to write a bit recently. There’s not much eroticism in this chapter, just a prologue, sort of. Anyway, enjoy the story (and photos)! Link to my morphs’ thread for more stuff is at the end of this story. Also, English is not my first language so please bear with me. - New Angeles city – I really need to start going back to the gym, Jason thought as he twisted and turned in front of the mirror. The clock on his desk beeped and Jason looked over to check the time. 12:00 AM. Time to call it a day, he thought as he stretched his arms and yawned. He has spent the whole day, and the last few days reading reports of missing persons on the online “Missing Persons Database”. He had also been going through news portals and social media to check posts related to missing people in the city. The more he read, the more concerning it became for Jason. Over the past six weeks, there was a sudden increase in the number of people going missing across the city. A new report was filed every few days. What was even more alarming to Jason was the fact that all of them were mutants, including the young man Jason was hired to find, a 21-year-old named Benjamin Park. His sister, who saw Jason’s ads posted online, gave him a call a few days ago and offered him a pay of $50,000 to find and return her brother safely. Her brother had been missing for almost two weeks, and her family had grown frustrated with the police and their work. At 26 years old, Jason left his office job of two years to set up his own private investigator agency. Despite having no experience whatsoever with P.I. kind of work, Jason believed he could make it work. Jason was in fact a mutant with the power to cloak himself with a shroud that makes him (or others) invisible to the naked eye, and untraceable by most senses. The only weakness to his cloaking ability is that whatever he cloaks does not become intangible, so they are not completely undiscoverable. Jason’s ability had been super useful for his P.I. work based on the few cases he had taken and solved since he started the business. He could tail his “person of interest”, listen to their conversations, follow their every move and learn their secrets without the person ever knowing he was there until he gets the clue or proof he needed to solve the case. A bit creepy on his part, but it works. However, Jason had a feeling that this Benjamin Park case would not be a walk in the park like his previous cases. The fact that there were over twenty other mutants missing out there could not be a coincidence. And there is the risk that whoever or whatever is responsible for the missing mutants may not be good news for Jason himself. I’m gonna go on a long vacation after this one, Jason thought to himself. He looked at Benjamin’s photo on his Instagram again. The 21-year-old college junior has dyed his hair a deep red color, probably to match his mutant ability of pyrokinesis (the ability to generate and control flames). “He’s kinda cute,” Jason said as he smiled warmly. “Kick-ass power too.” Jason has been single for over a year now since he broke up with his boyfriend of six months when he left the Brotherhood. Putting aside the missing persons’ reports, Jason turned back to his personal investigation file for Benjamin where he had mapped his movements and activities, and deduced that whatever is happening has something to do with Stark Industries and their huge experimental facility just outside the city center. As a mutant, Jason has been wary of the multinational conglomerate and their work for quite a while now. His suspicion grew worse after “new management” took over the company several years ago, not long after Earth was invaded by aliens. The invasion ended with the disappearance of half the world’s population, which the media calls “The Purge”. The U.N. estimated exactly half the planet’s population disappeared, or more accurately turned into dust due to the event. Jason and his family were fortunately spared of the mysterious phenomenon, but most people he knew were not as lucky. Then, the infamous group of superheroes, The Avengers left Earth not long afterward. Some said they went to exact justice on the aliens responsible for The Purge and undo the event, while some believed they had abandoned Earth for greener pastures (or planet). Regardless of which was the truth, they never came back, the legendary Tony Stark included. Back to the present, there had been rumors that Stark Industries under the new management is involved in many shady businesses, including promoting terrorism overseas, discrimination and violence against mutants, and running illegal clinical experiments. The government, who is highly dependent on the company even before the Purge, was powerless against the conglomerate. But Jason was convinced that in order to find Benjamin, he had no choice but to get inside the experimental facility. Early the next day, Jason geared himself up for his ‘mission’. He has never been to any Stark Industries facility, but he assumed there are security measures he would need to overcome and being invisible may not be enough. Jason took out his precious stash of gadgets. He packed all three of the mini EMP generators, each the size of a DVD and capable of taking down electronics within a 10-meter radius. He also packed a few smoke bombs and an extendable blade, just in case he needs them. He had gotten these tools from his brief stint in the Brotherhood of Mutants just after he graduated college, which is a period of his life he would rather forget. Not only because he abhorred the Brotherhood’s goals and methods, but also because things did not end well with his ex-boyfriend, Kareem, who was a hardcore supporter of the whole “homo superior” ideology. Jason also added a few other tools he felt he might need like a utility knife, a headlamp, a mini first aid kit, and a small bottle of water, all packed in a small sling bag. By 8:30 AM, Jason was already standing (cloaked) just inside the main entrance of the great, white building complex. Getting through the guarded entrance was no problem, and getting into the building was easy enough as he only had to tail one of the employees. Jason spent the next few hours exploring the complex, trying to find clues that would point towards Benjamin’s or any of the other missing mutants’ location. He was walking along an empty corridor when a door on his right suddenly slides open, and two researchers walked out. Jason turned to his side just fast enough to avoid contact. One of them was a white male in his 30s, while the other was an Indian woman. “I still think we should’ve waited a bit more before we call the whole Board of Directors to come and observe,” said the female who wore her black hair in a tight bun. Both of them seemed like they were in a hurry, so Jason decided to trail them. “I agree, Nina. But Dr. Hopkins does not, and in the end, it’s what he thinks that matters most. He’s confident the experiment will work, and we are running out of test subjects. So, I guess he’s pretty much going all out. You know the Board is already considering pulling out and retract their funding for this project.” The two (with Jason in tow) continued walking along the corridor as they chat about the big experiment of the day.. “So, who’s going into the demonstration today?” Nina asked her colleague. “Is it 35?” The man, who Jason identified as Dr. Bryant from his name-tag, looked briefly at the notes on his tablet before he answered. “Yeah…Subject 32, Nikolai Mironov, and Subject 35, Benjamin Parks.” Jason went wide-eyed upon hearing the names. For one, he has found the clue for Benjamin’s potential whereabouts. In addition, Nikolai Mironov was a familiar name, unless subject 32 just coincidentally have the same name as the mutant he knew from the Brotherhood. From what he remembered; Nikolai was a 26-year-old, tall but skinny guy with the power of telekinesis (ability to move objects/matter with his mind). Though they never had much interaction before, Jason suspected that Nikolai had a crush on Kareem (his ex). “The two of them are the only ones to pass the preliminary tests with flying colors, so it’s only a matter of time,” Bryant continued. “I know…I think I just feel a little sorry for 35. When we offered him the internship here, he was so happy and excited about it. He’s quite intelligent too,” Nina said sympathetically. “And 32…did he really kill all those people at the diner?” “No idea. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, does it? Even for 32, they are all mutants, Nina. You have to remember our end goal here. Imagine if all goes well like Dr. Hopkins’ plan, soon we’d be able to create a team of super mutants under our control. We won’t have to be scared of any of them anymore.” If Jason was in the conversation, he would have been speechless after that. Looks like the rumors about Stark Industries are true. They are no different from the Brotherhood either. Bunch of extremists, Jason thought. The two scientists took Jason past a few electronically-secured doors into a huge room with control panels and computers. A handful of other scientists were either busy typing away or discussing work around the room. Solid walls enclosed the room on three sides including the entrance, while the fourth one was made of clear glass from the top to halfway down, which allowed them to look into another room that was connected by a door. This room was more chamber-like, with higher ceiling than the room they were in, and illuminated with bright white lights from the top. In the middle of the chamber was a huge, bluish crystalline object. The crystal, which Jason estimated to have a diameter of at least 6 feet, was suspended midair by a machine with cylindrical base and top parts. The machine was spinning slowly and emitted a soft, humming sound continuously. In the middle, the big crystal remained static, suspended by magnetic or whatever force was being produced by the machine. On either side of the machine were two reclining medical chairs with straps on them, which Jason assumed were for Subject 32 and 35. While Jason was busy examining the brightly-lit room, the door suddenly slides open and a group of people arrived. An older man in a lab coat who led the new arrival proceeded to introduce the other scientists to the newcomers. These must be the board members, Jason thought as he looked at the business-suit-wearing newcomers. One of them approached the glass wall and narrowed his eyes as he examined the crystal in the other room. “So, Dr. Hopkins, is this the Terrigen Crystal you’ve been working on?” the bald man said with a heavy southern accent. The others also stepped closer to have a look at the glimmering crystal. The leading scientist, Dr. Hopkins’ face lit up as he saw their interest in the crystal. “Indeed, Mr. Bowman. This, ladies and gentlemen is not just any Terrigen Crystal. This is our very own creation based on the Obelisk that was secured by S.H.I.E.L.D. This crystal, Extrigen as I call it, combines the best of both the alien technology that is Terrigenesis and an advanced version of the Extremis formula.” “Extremis…isn’t that--” one of the female board members started before Hopkins interrupted her. “Yes, Ms. Wilkes. The Centipede did an amazing job stabilizing the flawed work of the late Aldrich Killian and Dr. Maya Hansen. But I took it one step further,” Hopkins said, beaming with pride. “I—We, have done our own extensive studies, and we managed to produce a variation even better than the Centipede’s. From our tests so far, the subjects’ physical conditions were enhanced three to four times compared to what the Centipede’s can do at similar dosage.” “And this occurs without any adverse effects?” asked another Asian-looking, middle-aged man. “Yes, Mr. Hong. We have tested various dosages and the subjects all reacted positively. Of course, there are a couple of caveats for this. The first one being the dosages must be customized based on the subjects’ genetic makeup.” Hopkins explained. He paused for a few seconds and seemed hesitant before he continued. “The second condition is…the subject must be a mutant.” Upon hearing that, several of the board members’ faces soured and they began throwing questions angrily, while Hopkins and the rest of his team looked at each other uncomfortably. Raising his voice over his irate colleagues, Mr. Hong remained composed as he asked, “And how is this beneficial for us, Dr. Hopkins? Surely you are aware our main goal is to enhance our own race so that WE are the superior one, not the mutants.” The others stopped and fell silent as they waited for Hopkins’ answer. “We are very much aware of that goal, ladies and gentlemen.” “And yet your creation benefits them, not us!” spat a female board member. “It might seem that way, Ms. Goran. But I assure you we’ve figured out a way to take advantage of this.” He stopped short from adding “We are not stupid, you morons”. Instead, Hopkins produced a vial of bright blue liquid from his pocket and held it up for everyone to see. “This, ladies and gentlemen, is Cerulyze. A compound also developed by us that is capable of incapacitating a person’s cognitive ability, so much so that all they do is follow orders. Our orders.” “And this stuff works?” asked a skeptical Ms. Wilkes. “How are we not aware of this product’s development?” “Yes, it does, Ms. Wilkes. As long as we keep this compound running in their bloodstream, these mutants are not much of a threat to us. In fact, they are much easier to control,” Hopkins explained. “Cerulyze is a new product that we synthesized and developed from one of our earlier test subjects, a mutant with psychic abilities. She did not survive the Extrigenesis process, but we have progressed so much since then.” When he saw the Board members still looking at him with skepticism, Hopkins continued, “Words doesn’t mean much, I know. How about we proceed with the demonstration instead?” Hopkins stepped towards a console in the middle of the room and pressed on the button for the intercom. “Renner, Thomson, bring in subject 32 and 35.” “OK, Dr. Hopkins,” a gruffy male voice answered. “In the meantime, allow me to introduce our two subjects for today’s experiment,” Hopkins started as one of the screens switched on and a profile of Nikolai and Benjamin appeared. There was nothing new for Jason on the screen especially on Benjamin, but he noted Nikolai’s current status as a convicted felon who was charged with multiple homicide. He knew some of the Brotherhood’s members could be quite violent, but he would not have suspected the blond guy to be capable of something as horrific. Was he falsely accused? Jason thought to himself. There must be a whole story behind this. Plus, seems like kidnapping innocent mutants are not their only source of test subjects. As Hopkins was reading the stuff on the screen for his audience, a door in the experiment chamber opened and two security guards entered, guiding a test subject each. Nikolai and Benjamin both looked normal enough, if only a little sleepy. Both of them wore a plain, pale blue hospital gowns. The guards instructed them both to sit in the reclining chairs, with the ominous crystal in the middle. After securing the two mutants in their seat, the guards left through the door they came in from. Meanwhile, Jason was running possible scenarios in his mind. He knew he needed to rescue Benjamin before he gets subjected to the Extrigenesis process. He has heard of Terrigenesis before, and how the process is deadly for those who are not part of the race it was created for. Jason considered whether he should try and rescue Nikolai too, knowing it would make his mission much harder. “Fuck it,” Jason cussed under his breath as he took out two of his EMP generators and set the timer to two minutes. He then placed the devices under the tables at separate locations, hidden from view as he can’t use his cloaking ability from afar. He carefully sneaked his way past Dr. Hopkins and the other people in the room as he moved closer to the door connecting the room and the chamber. He hoped the EMPs would be enough to disable every electronics in the room and the hallway, create a distraction and give him enough time to rescue the incapacitated mutants. As long as I can cloak them, we don’t have to go far, Jason thought. “Now, as you can see subject 32 and 35 are under the effects of Cerulyze. They were given their daily dosage this morning, so they will remain under the effects throughout the whole experiment. We are going to subject them to Extrigenesis—” Hopkins’ speech was cut short when suddenly Jason’s EMP device went off. The computers and the lights immediately went out, plunging the room into darkness. In the experiment chamber, the equipment holding the crystal aloft also ceased to function, and the crystal itself dropped onto the floor. Elsewhere, the sound of a distant blaring alarm could be heard. The scientist Nina was the first to realize the danger they were in. Everyone was panicking in the darkened control room, but she quickly made her way towards exit, and managed to pull the door open. “Everyone, we have to leave now. Please come this way!” The panicked men and women became even more frantic and tried to make their way out of the room by following Nina’s voice. Hopkins too was panicked, but he was more worried about his experiment than his guests. It took quite some persuasion from his fellow scientists before he finally agreed to vacate the room. Meanwhile, Jason quickly made his way into the chamber. There was no light in there either, but the luminescent crystal was shimmering with a bluish light, and it was enough for Jason to find the strapped Benjamin. Uncloaking himself, Jason tried to shake the mutant awake. “Benjamin, can you hear me? Benjamin?!” Jason called as he took the young man’s shoulders in each hand and shook him roughly. The red-haired mutant let out a soft groan, but otherwise remained rigid and unresponsive. Jason struggled with the wrist straps holding Benjamin to the chair as he called for the other mutant. “Nikolai! Come on, wake up!!” Frustrated as he was, Nikolai remained completely motionless. Just as he managed to undo one of the straps on Benjamin, Jason heard a cracking sound coming from the crystal. He stared at the crystal, knowing something bad was about to happen. True enough, after a few seconds the Extrigen crystal suddenly exploded. Jason reflexively brought his arms up to cover his head. He expected to be bombarded with tiny shards of crystal, but when nothing happened, Jason opened his eyes to see that whole chamber was filled with a luminescent mist. Jason looked around him but the shimmering, blue mist was too thick that he could not even see Benjamin. “Benjamin! Nikolai!” Jason called for the two mutants, even though he knew it was useless. Even if they could hear him they were still too intoxicated to respond. Jason walked several feet through the mist, trying to either find Benjamin or find his way out. Then, just as sudden as the explosion, the Extrigen mist swirled around and began to envelop him, as if his body was sucking in the gaseous substance. Jason felt like he was being suffocated, and his whole body was suddenly overwhelmed with pain. He wanted to scream, but he felt like his mouth was sealed shut. His vision quickly darkened until it was pitch black. This is it, Jason thought. I’m dying here with these two. A few seconds of silence passed, when an abrupt, sharp pain stung his whole body. The pain continued and felt like it was never going to end. Or so he thought. After what felt like an eternity (which actually was only a couple of minutes), Jason felt the pain gradually leaving his body. His breathing became more stable, and Jason could feel like his senses have gone back to normal. He was still immobile, and an attempt to move his right arm resulted in him breaking out of a shell of some kind. The Extrigenesis mist must have solidified and formed a hard shell when it surrounded me, he thought. As he fully emerged from the destroyed shell, Jason knew everything was different. What…what is this intense feeling? Jason wondered. He felt invigorated and full of energy. He blinked his eyes, and the first thing that surprised him was how he could see clearly even though the chamber was in total darkness. Jason inhaled, and again was shocked by the diverse smells he could discern. It was as if he could smell each and every thing around him. Jason instinctively looked down at his own body, and his jaw dropped. Not only was he completely naked, but he has lost his swimmer physique and in its place was a body built like the hulk. Somehow, the Extrigenesis triggered a physical transformation in him. During the process, his clothes were torn to shreds and his sling bag was lost on the floor, somewhere. Jason knew he had grown massively from his 6-feet height, as the high ceiling looked closer than it had been. He estimated his new height to be about 8 feet tall. Looking down, Jason could not see past his pecs that now extended far above his torso. Jason lifted his arms to inspect them, and was greeted with a pair of arms more massively muscled than any bodybuilders he has ever seen. Their size was more like a bodybuilder’s thighs, easily measuring 25” around. His arms felt heavy and powerful, but then again so does every part of his new body. Jason moved his hands to his pecs and felt its hardness. It felt like he was touching satin-covered steel, smooth yet dense and hard as hell. Jason moved his hands slowly downward. His bulging, 58” pecs was so huge it created a good 6” overhang over his torso. His palms brushed over his thick nipples, and they were so sensitive that Jason had to stifle a moan. He traced his abs with his hands, and counted three pairs of rock-hard mounds of muscles each nearly the size of his palms. Jason pulled his elbows up towards his sides and ran his hands across the serrated contours of his lats. This is amazing! Jason thought. His transformed body felt powerful. He could feel the immense physical strength within each part of his body. A cracking sound from about ten feet away brought Jason back to reality. He must have closed his eyes while he was feeling and testing the fullness of his new muscles. Jason noticed a weirdly-shaped, 8 feet tall rock standing where Benjamin was before the crystal exploded. Surely enough, more cracking followed and suddenly a figure ‘flew’ upward and out of the rock-like shell. “Benjamin!” Jason said when he saw the figure’s face. He was elated to see the mutant had survived the process too. And like him, Benjamin was a new man. Benjamin floated several feet in the air with his eyes closed as if he was still not fully conscious. When he opened his eyes a few seconds later, they shone brightly with red energy, and immediately his body burst into flames. The fire enveloping Benjamin’s body was so bright and intense that it would have definitely burned or blinded those at such close distance, but Jason was able to look on comfortably (part of his new ability). This continued for a short while before Benjamin finally dismissed the flames and lowered himself back to the floor. With the flames gone, Jason was able to appreciate the physical transformation in the younger mutant. Similar to himself, the Korean-American mutant’s body had been fully transformed by the Extrigenesis process. Benjamin’s new hypertrophied body was a lot leaner, and yet still heavily muscled. The youthful mutant now stood at 7-foot-6 of pure, lean muscle. Even his face has become more chiseled, his previously youthful good looks transformed into a beautifully masculine face. His brown eyes have turned into a bright red color similar to his hair. His steeply-sloping traps bulged out from his thick neck, leading Jason’s eyes to a pair of striated, boulder-sized delts. His incredible 54” pecs bulged with power over eight pack of corrugated abs and erotically tight, 31” waist. His 22” upper arms featured definitions and vascularity of strenuously pumped muscles even as they remain relaxed on either side of his muscle-bound upper body. Moving his eyes lower, Jason was treated to a display of Benjamin’s insanely-defined quads which flared out with pure muscle, each measuring nearly the same thickness of his waist. The muscles of his upper legs flowed gently toward his equally defined and striated calf muscles. Studying his own enhanced musculature, Benjamin gracefully moved his massive left leg forward, causing the muscles to ripple and dance under his glistening skin. To top off his incredibly aesthetic physique, his equally beautiful and meaty cock hung 10.5” down, completely soft. He would later learn that his sex organ when completely aroused would push the measuring tape to 16” long and over 3” wide. In addition, Jason thought his bodyfat must have been as minimal as humanly possible since all his muscles looked as if they were shrink-wrapped with flawless, tanned skin that was almost golden in color. Jason also noted the young man seemed filled with life, unlike earlier when he was under the effects of the mind-paralyzing Cerulyze. Looking up straight ahead, Benjamin finally noticed Jason, who was still busy drinking in the view. As he laid his eyes on Jason, Benjamin was immediately attracted by the vision of the dark-skinned muscle-god before him. Similar to his own body, Jason’s transformed physique was the epitome of virility and masculinity. Benjamin’s eyes hungrily took in the sight of Jason’s handsome face and overdeveloped muscled body. His eyes were bright gold in color, which contrasted strikingly with his rich brown skin. His full lips were just so luscious and inviting. Benjamin could not help but to fantasize how good they would feel on his own. His eyes traveled down Jason’s thick, powerful neck, toward the twin plates of pectoral muscles so big they hung far out over his chiseled abs, even further than his own. Despite his relaxed standing posture, his muscle-strewn lats pushed his arms far out on either side of his twin breastplates. Jason’s arms were laced with a network of thick veins, and relaxed as he was, the muscle fibers within them bulged with promise of impenetrable hardness and power. The rounded masses of muscles were topped with deltoids that resembled the size and density of cannonballs. Jason’s taut waistband must have measured no more than 34”. His relatively small midsection simply highlighted the proportion and immensity of his upper and lower body. If it was not for his own overdeveloped muscles, Benjamin would have thought Jason’s physique to be simply unreal. Gigantic, rippling quads supported the heavy upper body and framed his equally powerful-looking genitals. The soft organ was easily a foot long, and thick as a beer can. Behind the organ, his balls which were pushed forward by his heavily-cabled thighs hung low. While Benjamin’s balls resembled large apples in size and shape, Jason’s testicles weighed down his sac like two unnaturally large eggs. Benjamin’s cock throbbed as his eyes took in Jason and his muscle-bound body. He had always been attracted to muscular men, but Benjamin noticed whatever caused his transformation was also making him hornier than usual. A vibration in the air temporarily brought Jason and Benjamin out of their muscle-appreciation daze. They both turned their attention to the source that was subject 32. The two mutants were too mesmerized by each other’s transformed physique that they did not noticed the blond mutant had only just now broken out of his shell. And just as Benjamin and Jason were busy appraising one another, Nikolai was busy contemplating his own transformation. His post-transformation build was more similar to Jason’s, though he looked like a muscled wonder in his own right. The new Nikolai remained the tallest of the three as he had grown from a scrawny 6’ 4” man, to an 8’ 2” absolute hulk. The blond super mutant’s previously brown eyes were now a mix of blue and green, and at the moment they were fixated on his own huge guns. He lightly shook out his arms. Even unflexed they were astounding in size and definition. Nikolai bent his right arm, and slowly raised it into a bicep pose. As he raised his forearms to vertical, the bicep peaks grew and grew into a huge, hardened ball of muscles rippling with throbbing veins. His triceps too bulged and rippled on the underside. Still studying his gigantic bicep, Nikolai flexed the balled muscle, causing it to harden and grow even thicker to the point of threatening to burst through his paper-thin skin. As he did so, Jason and Benjamin could feel an invisible force acting in sync with his flexing motion, though the blond mutant seemed oblivious to it. Each time he tightens his flex, an invisible wave pulled every movable object within the chamber toward him, while the force pushes everything outward when he did the opposite. As he stood there watching Nikolai’s demonstration, Jason thought the Extrigenesis must have done more than enhanced the three of them physically. Their unique abilities must have been enhanced significantly too, and god knows what new powers they now possess as well. Satisfied with the power in his flexed, 28-inch upper arm, Nikolai lowered his right arm and turned his attention to the rest of his body, as did his audience of two. Benjamin in particular was drawn to Nikolai’s gorgeous, 60” pectorals, which were dominated by a pair of dark, fleshy areolae and huge nipples that projected half an inch outward. Under his monstrous pectoral muscles, his fat-free abs featured an 8-pack of cobblestone-sized muscles and crisscrossing veins. The rest of his body carried the height advantage he had over the other two as well. Just like them, Nikolai’s new body was a sculpted perfection. Wide lats, tremendous upper body, 35” thighs, and stupendous calf muscles all tied to a trim, 34” waist. In between the tree-trunk thighs, his limp cock measured over 14” in length, and was quite similar to Jason’s in girth and its vein-lined appearance. A pair of grapefruit-sized balls competed with each other for space as they were pushed forward by his rock-hard quads, and they in turn forced his cock forward. The footsteps and voices of a group of people approaching from several hundred meters alerted the three super mutants and stopped their examination of each other’s godly physiques short. Heightened as their senses were, they knew the security force was coming their way to secure their test subjects and precious, yet ultimately lost, Extrigen crystal. As the footsteps grew closer, the three super mutants looked at each other and as if reaching an unspoken understanding, readied themselves for a fight. --End of prologue— For full-resolution photos, plus a few other extra stuff including a bonus character, visit my morph thread here. Also, thank you for reading! Feedback/comments are very welcomed. p/s: No idea when/if I'd write the next chapter though.

The bass thumped in Jeremy’s head, and he grimaced. He was going to have fun tonight and wouldn’t let a headache get in his way. Work was demanding, and he definitely didn’t get enough sleep, but Austin invited him out and was, well, fun and sexy as hell. It seemed like a good choice for tonight. The lights were hazy and full of dark shades, and made the dancefloor look like one large clump of bumping silhouettes. There were bodies of different heights and sizes, some with style and others like robotic copies of each other. Jeremy’s eyes were drawn to the thick ones, the ones that looked full and powerful. The men danced and their pecs bounced with muscular weight. Two were making out and rubbing their cobbled abs against each other. Jeremy felt his dick harden in his pants as he watched for a few seconds more. Then he turned and leaned against the bar. He shifted his bulge around and straightened out his shirt. Jeremy didn’t look like those guys, but confidence was key. He lifted his eyes and looked around the bar. He toned up a bit since college and his chest modestly stretched his tee. He looked good. He had to tell himself that, otherwise… “’Scuse me, stretch,” he heard a voice yell over the music. A hand tapped his shoulder. Jeremy furrowed his brows in amusement and turned back, “Stretch?” Then, his eyes fell on a scruffy brown haired face with eyes that were both friendly and mischievous. “You know, ‘tall guy.’ Long guy. I make fun of your height, then you make fun of mine,” he smiled. Jeremy couldn’t help but copy him. He grinned and said, “I’m not that tall, you’re just short.” The guy chuckled, “Is that your best work?” His smile was contagious on his handsome face. Sure he was slim, but he stood proudly. “Isaac.” The guy raised his hand to shake, the sleeves of his button down rolled up past his wrists. Jeremy offered his hand in return. “Jeremy.” At that moment, Austin came pushing through the crowd with two drinks in his hands. He had a hard time getting his round shoulders past people without going sideways. He made eye contact with Jeremy and flashed a grin. “A vodka coke for the queen,” he said as he shoved the drink into Jeremy’s free hand, “And who is this?” “This is Isaac. Isaac, Austin,” Jeremy said and released Isaac’s hand. Austin sipped from his straw, “Know each other?” “Just waiting for the bar,” Isaac smiled for a moment, “Nice to meet you both.” “C’mon.” Austin grabbed Jeremy’s hand and pulled him away. The two of them made their way through the crowd. Once they reached a spot Austin seemed to approve of, somewhere smack in the middle of the mob, he turned back around and planted his lips on Jeremy’s. Jeremy felt Austin’s bulbous pecs collide with his own. He returned the kiss and began to wrap an arm around Austin’s wide back. Then Jeremy felt him pull away. “Drink up honey,” he said. He winked and took a chug of his own. Jeremy followed suit and took a couple sips. The carbonation woke him up, but it tasted funky – like cheap vodka and plastic. “I forgot how bad the drinks were here,” Jeremy yelled. Austin leaned in to whisper in his ear, “They’re perfect.” The music shifted. Something with a deeper bass and a frazzled synth. Jeremy felt his body melt into Austin’s and the two danced in sync. Jeremy could feel the tingling excitement in his pants spread throughout his body, sending sparks to all his nerves. Their lips locked together once more, and the heat radiated between them. Jeremy could feel it, in every bone and every muscle. The fabric against his skin took his breath away. “What did you give me?” Jeremy was so close to Austin, and only had the faintest sense of concern. “Ride it, sexy. Ride it. You’re welcome.” “Austin…” The music pumped vibrations that surged through Jeremy. His tingling skin was tight, everywhere. With each pulse the warm blood in his veins filled his muscle fibers. In moments, every limb of his body was swelling larger. His jeans tightened around his thighs and bubbling butt. The hem of his tee came up as his chest and back grew in different directions. His arms and shoulders filled his sleeves and stretched the fabric apart. Austin growled, his hand on Jeremy’s back feeling the rising muscle. “Oh my fucking god,” Jeremy gasped. “I told you. You’re welcome.” “What the fuck?” The power rising in Jeremy’s body turned shades of red. He suddenly got his hands in between himself and Austin and pushed him away. He felt his shirt strain at every movement. It felt good. “Calm down baby. We’re not the only ones,” Austin inched closer to Jeremy as Jeremy scanned the room around him. Everywhere there were men sticking their heads up to the ceiling, like they were orgasming gallons of cum. All of them were pumped with muscle. Jeremy’s eyes lowered to his pecs. He was pumped with muscle too. “Yeah, baby. Look at you.” Austin reached his arms back around Jeremy. “This is fucked.” Jeremy turned and left Austin standing there with the strobe lights and music blaring. End of Part 1

Prologue "Oh, Titan, how can I ever thank you?" "I followed your description of the fantasy you had when you proved yourself to be a Titan, Henri, I trust that it meets with your approval?" As Henri gave Porthos a massive kiss, Porthos thought "Yes, it meets with his approval!" As Henri broke off the embrace he looked at the dungeon and started to moan with desire. Exactly as in his fantasy, a few days previously, Porthos had made two rack like devices, each of them made to fit each other with manacles at the base for their ankles and wrists, along side helmets that resembled the type seen on barbarians in the depth of history. Henri's moans grew louder as he started to undress and with the command of "Buckle me, Titan" he was attached to the device that was his size. "When you absorb my strength" said Porthos, his breathing quickening, "break free of these restraints Henri, I beg you" "I will, Titan, if you promise me something in return. Take out the rock in the pocket of my breeches" As Porthos took out the grey coloured rock Henri added "Whilst you were winning the amulet, I was visited by a friend. I didn't know he was a friend at the time, but when I first met him, his eyes just screamed for help and pity, and as you know I would help anyone. Would you like to know what his name was?" Porthos nodded and Henri replied "Ganymede!" "A strange name?" asked Porthos "For a suitably strange lad, you see, Porthos" and with that Henri looked around, "and pray, never tell a living soul this, he was not of this world, he came from beyond the heavens" and with that Henri explained what happened. How having been given a telescope by the Captain in recognition of his qualification as a full blown Musketeer, he set it up that evening along with Aramis to explore the heavens, how he had spied an object, dubbed a meteorite by Aramis, land in the Bois de Boulogne, how, after seeking it to claim it for His Majesty, he came across the strange lad and how, he had ended up defeating an alien munity and been rewarded with the rock that the Titan was holding concluding his memories with "Porthos, Ganymede said that that rock would transfer a fraction of your strength into me, but as we will be using the amulet to do that I want you to transfer a fraction of my intelligence into you to make my fantasy complete. I become the Titan in mind and body and you become me in mind and body. Please, Porthos, I beg you, I have been dreaming about this every night for the last week, please, please, Porthos, I..." "What is our motto, lad" interrupted Porthos, "and our creed?" "All for one and one for all" replied Henri, his eyes closed "There is no need to ask, mon amis" came the reply as Porthos undressed and attaching the manacles to his ankles and then slamming his wrists into the restraints he smiled and with a proud voice declared "Amulet of Athelstan, your victims lie ready!" As the amulet started to glow, Pierre took a deep breath and announced "Dear Ganymede, I call upon your gift" and the rock next to the amulet also started to glow. As the glow brightened, both men started to breathe deeper and their weapons started to engorge, then looking at each other they roared their devices into action "GIVE THE TITAN'S STRENGTH TO THE LAD!" roared Porthos "GIVE THE TITAN MY INTELLIGENCE!" roared Henri Both amulet and rock sent out beams of energy that stimulated both men causing them to moan and groan in a combination of ecstasy and agony and as they did, they resisted the pain and pulled on their restraints, stimulating their organs even more so and as they did the beams became brighter and brighter until unable to stand the glare both men closed their eyes and as they did so they felt compelled to scream the same thing "TRANSFER!" and with that both men were knocked out cold. *** "Oh yes" moaned Henri as he raised his sword to the heavens, his powerful chest no longer burdened by his Musketeer uniform despite the King's emblem emblazoned on his breastplate, "if this is what it means to be the Ultimate form of a Musketeer, then, non, I never want to let it go!" "And neither do I mon amis" moaned Porthos in reply, in an outfit almost the same as Henri's save for the lack of a breastplate, making his pumped pecs easy pickings for Henri's mouth as he first kissed his lover and then started to suck on those five inch long nipples. Indeed it wasn't long before Porthos could barely speak being able to mumble "Ultimate of Titans" which seemed to do just as much for Henri as it did for him, as both men's weapons unloaded over each other causing them to moan in ecstasy As Henri opened his eyes, the moaning of his dream was the first sound he made, any dream that involved him and Porthos expressing their love for each other and their desire to become the biggest, strongest and most powerful men ever to walk the earth always made him moan as he became accustomed to the light the smile of his face grew so large it might have escaped for he was now in Porthos's quarters, just like last time. His body enhanced by the amulet and now able to pass himself off as Porthos where Porthos would now be able to pass himself off as Henri, but this time, thanks to Ganymede's gift instead of having a blank face when he was asked a question his would be the first hand to be raised as the tutor would ask "There is a detachment of Cardinal's guards, two kilometres from you, marching at ten kilometres an hour. You are four kilometres from headquarters and can run at eight kilometres an hour. Which happens first, you reach Headquarters or bash as any guardsmen as you like?" and with that he got out of bed. Stretching out his massive eight foot frame, the sense of power surging through him, he chuckled as he approached the mirror and with his eyes closed jumped in front of his and roared as he puffed out his chest as much as he could and would have moaned "The Titan is awake" if he hadn't opened his eyes and screamed in horror at what he saw. The reflection was that, not of Henri's familiar physiognomy expanded to look like Porthos, but Porthos himself. Patting his face in a panic he tried to reason what was happening and had a frightful thought. What if, instead of transferring a fraction of his intelligence to Porthos, as he had expected, Ganymede's gift had transferred all his intelligence to Porthos and as he looked in the mirror a sense of dread washed over him. His mind was now trapped in Porthos's body and that meant that Porthos's mind was trapped in Henri's body. Panicking, Henri made for the door and found it blocked by the Captain who chuckled "Who's been yanking on your weapon today, eh?" noting that Henri was still naked. As he let himself in, Henri dived back into the bed and covered himself up, an action that the Captain found strange and reassured him "Porthos, I have seen you naked hundreds of times before, once you have seen one weapon you have seen them all!" and with that sat down on the end of the bed and said "I'm sorry to say that you're needed in my office. The Duke's arrived and he is not a happy person!" "BUCKINGHAM?" exclaimed Henri wondering what manner of mess he was involved in now "No, Bavaria!" came the reply as the Captain explained that Duke Christopher had been prevented from attending the strongman contest that Porthos had won due to an internal dispute and felt that he was the strongest man to walk the earth and therefore had come to Paris to challenge Porthos, and of course, the Captain had accepted the challenge and therefore had come to ask "Would you mind if Henri acted as referee, after all his has such the perfect English accent on occasions, you would think he was English himself!" and with that chuckled. Henri didn't know what to think however the Captain took the slight shaking Henri exhibited as approval and said "Excellent, meet me at my office after lunch along with Henri and I'll explain what the challenges are!" and with that got up and said "Now, you can go and be a man!" as he let himself out. Instantly, Henri leapt out of bed, raced to the wardrobe where he flung the first things that he found on and less than a minute later was running like never before to his digs in an effort to try and get them back in their correct positions as soon as was possible, if not quicker. *** "Ah, Monsieur Porthos, to what does my master...Monsieur...Monsieur, is everything all right?" As Henri dashed past Francois, his manservant of the last three years, he barged into his room and gasped at the sight in front of him. There he was, sleeping completely naked, something he never did at all, rubbing his gently enlarging weapon moaning "Oh, oui, mon chere, to feel this body again, it is magnifique!" and with that he started to breathe deeply. Henri knew precisely what was going to happen next and so shooing Francois away asking him to "get an extra loaf of bread, I believe your master will need it" knelt down next to the quivering mass that was him. "Porthos, Porthos, wake up, mon chere!" whispered Henri but it was no good Porthos was too far gone. "Oui, Oui, Hercules, I hear you and wish to wrestle you" at which point he grabbed hold of Henri and threw him on top of him, then grabbing hold of his sides he started to force his weapon towards Henri's mouth, all the while Henri desperately trying to wake him up. Realising there was no option, Henri raised his hand and with a whispered "Forgive me, mon chere" delivered a slap across the face that was said to be so loud that every single husband in Paris instantly confessed their indiscretions to their loved ones. But it had the desired effect as Porthos opened his eyes and gasped in amazement at the sight before him and lowering his body to the ground listened as Henri babbled his explanation panting at the end of it. "Oh, Henri" replied Porthos, hugging his lover, "thank you, thank you for making my dream come true. I am some twenty five years your senior but when I was your age I wasn't anything like as strong as you are, now, I shall be able to make you even more powerful than me" and with that grabbed hold of his body's arm and giving it a squeeze moaned "Twenty six inches, mon chere, compared to your twenty two, imagine, imagine how much bigger you will become!" "If I survive that long!" replied Henri and explained about the Duke, as he did Porthos's eyes opened wide and he roared "I AM THE STRONGEST MAN AND NONE SHALL CHALLENGE ME!" and instantly reached for the amulet and rock and placing them both on him and Henri declared "Amulet, release us from your power" but nothing happened. Gesturing to Henri who added "Ganymede, mon amis, we need to be ourselves again" still nothing happened and the two lovers realised their dilemma. "Then, if the gods will it" said Henri, "I must defend your honour, mon chere, if you are as strong as you say you are, then this Duke will be no challenge" "But, Henri" replied Porthos, his voice quivering, "you do not know what the Duke is capable of" and recounted a tale he had heard of the Duke throwing a five hundred pound rock the length of his courtyard to which Henri replied "That doesn't sound difficult" before Porthos added that he had done that after running the length of his kingdom, some twenty six miles, in less than four hours and all without any food for the previous day. Henri's eyes widened as he realised the challenge he now faced but stood next to Porthos, unsheathed his sword, raised it high and declared "ONE FOR ALL, MON CHERE!" to which Porthos replied standing next to his lover and holding the sword, "AND ALL FOR ONE, MON CHERE!" and agreed to meet with the Captain that afternoon to formally accept the challenge. *** "Gentlemen" announced the Captain as Henri and Porthos stood to attention in front of the Captain's desk, "the Duke of Bavaria claims to be one of the strongest men in the world, I find this claim debatable at best, but his belief that his claim is valid has to be taken. He has given me a list of the feats of strength that he wishes you to be tested on, Porthos, and that Henri will judge upon, however, I have been told I cannot tell you that list unless both of you accept. Gentlemen, do you?" "AYE" both men announced "The first task will be to carry four objects from one end of the courtyard to the other, one after the other, with the winner being the person who does it the fastest, the second task will be hold two bags of rocks equal to one and half times the weight of the person holding it for as long as possible, the next task is to haul a wagon containing up to four people of your own choice ten times the length of the courtyard running to each end in-between, that will then be followed by holding two anvils off the ground against each other, the person who drops theirs first being deemed the loser" As Henri looked at Porthos with concern, he was pleased to hear the Captain say "After that test, there will be a pause for lunch which in itself will be a test, whoever can devour a full roast pig the fastest will gain an advantage in the next test. That test will be a test of both strength and power as you will have to swim from here to Notre Dame which is then followed by a run carrying the heaviest horse that we have on your backs. That is then followed by lifting an anvil as many times as you can and finally pulling yourselves up and down as many times as you can from the window of my office" "Sir" said Henri, raising a hand, "I make that eight tasks, what happens if I win four and he wins four!" "Then there will be a final challenge, a tug of war between the two of you, whoever pulls the other will be declared the winner!" As both Henri and Porthos looked at each other, Porthos could see the first signs of concern written on Henri's face but as he stepped forward he declared "I realise that I will have to be independent from now on, but wish permission to say something to the Titan" and as the Captain nodded he turned to his former body, placed his hands on his broad shoulders and said "Porthos, you have always been a true paragon of strength to me, I have complete confidence in you and want to know that even when I am being completely independent, this will still be supporting you" and with that he placed his hand on his chest to indicate his heart. Henri smiled in return and said "Thank you, mon amis, that means a lot coming from you" and with that announced in a loud voice "The Titan is really to face all challenges for the honour of His Majesty!"

Unit 246: Prologue It was unreal. It felt unreal, at least. The other six young men were writhing in pleasure inside the chamber, as their bodies transformed into something else. Something new. Something the galaxy hadn't seen before. There were Smith: the cocky delinquent who had been sentenced to service in the Space Fleet after too many knuckle-fights, Larson: the tall, sinewy and taciturn tracker with a past in martial arts, Eymundsson: with an impressive record in Strongman competitions, Blanchard: the explosives expert, who looked like an ancient Greek statue, Karpov: the short and stocky bodybuilder, who was a skilful sniper, and Schnauzerschwarzwald, another sailor with a bodybuilding-hobby. Despite his short and fragile physique, Pauwels had been re-assigned together with the other six to the Marine Research branch of the Empire's armed forces. Weeks had followed, when Corporal Collins maintained high-intensity drill with them, only interrupted by repeated time for blood-samples and urine-samples taken by the Research Team. The first two to go into the chamber were Eymundsson and Schnauzerschwarzwald, after being injected by Version 1.1. Like any other tall man, Eymundsson hadn't been able to build a wide and V-shaped physique: His strength was impressive, but his muscles were lean and oblong, rather than peaking bulges. The opposite had been true about Schnauzerschwarzwald: Built like a heap of globes of brawn, he wasn't particularly tall, and didn't demonstrate the same amount of explosive or persevering strength of Eymundsson. The change had begun already after their first session in the chamber. Early on found suitable for encryption and code-breaking, Pauwels wasn't the typical field operator, and the first week at the Research Ship had been uncomfortable. Although bullying wasn't precisely the right word for it, Smith had spent some time intimidating Pauwels, and Schnauzerschwarzwald had been slightly too smug about his physical superiority. Eymundsson had noticed, and had a little talk with them, and after that things changed to the better. Karpov had become a good friend: They were both about the same height, though any physical similarities ended there. Karpov looked like "a little tank" -- a description he earned from Blanchard. The following week Smith and Blanchard had went into the chamber: Though any physical changes had been less obvious, than in the case of Eymundsson and Schnauzerschwarzwald, Blanchard had begun to show the same assertive and confident behaviour of Smith, and the latter's general physical shape had changed into the same symmetrical and harmonious body-type as Blanchard. Corporal Collins and Pauwels watched their six brothers in arms undergo the next level of the treatment. Instruments were fastened to their chests, arms and buzzcut heads, and the equipment hummed of power directed into the chamber. The men inside the chamber writhed and moaned on their reclining seats. Their glossy boots rested against their foot pads, and their growing legs were covered in wide camo-patterned trousers. Their tanned and sweaty torsos were naked under the impact of the transforming process, and their glistening individual shapes were scanned by the equipment. One of the anonymous white-clad researchers impassively declared: "Scanning physical shapes of test subjects.", and pressed a few buttons. "Fusing scanned shapes into desired enhanced shape." The sound from Pauwels' friends became more excited and intense. "Fuck! Can't believe ... Uh! Adding more of your symmetry, Blanchard, and getting beefy like you, Karpov.", Smith exclaimed. "No, I don't want to ... Uh! I don't need more mass ... I ... No, I don't need obedience-implant ... I ... NO! What's happening?", Larson shouted, with an increasing level of fright in his voice. "YES! Do it! Taller like you!", Karpov moaned, watching Smith, Larson and Eymundsson change before him. He was right. Pauwels could see his stout and sturdy little friend grow taller, without loosing his wide and brawny body-type. One of the researchers approached Pauwels and Corporal Collins from behind: "Corporal. It is time. You and Pauwels will be given Version 1.3." Without any further ado, Pauwels and Corporal Collins were injected with Version 1.3. It stung. Pauwels felt warm, and felt some perspiration to form. He removed his t-shirt, and the dogtags dangled on his conditioned but thin naked chest. He felt Corporal Collins' hand on his shoulder. "It has begun. Do you understand how your ability to keep lean will affect the field, and how your decryption talent will affect our shared brainwave-pattern?" "I suppose I don't." "Are you afraid?" "I would lie if I told you, that I am not, but you and these six are among the finest men I have ever met." Pauwels hesitated and shivered. "Sir. Will I ... Will I achieve similar traits like the others?" "If our calculations are correct: Yes. Hurry up, test-subject. Entering chamber NOW!" And they entered. One minute later, Pauwels felt how he became more like the other men of his unit. Eymundsson's height and raw strength. Karpov's mass. Smith's confidence. Blanchard's and Schnauzerschwarzwald's symmetry. Larson's endurance and relentlessness. And Corporal Collin's courage. They were transforming into the Prototype Marines together, and Pauwel's let it happen. Two hours later, he wasn't Pauwels any longer. He was Unit 008. He had the body of Unit 008. He had the mind of Unit 008. He was proud to be Unit 008. * * * Chapter one take place decades later. Perhaps centuries. You'll find it here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13112-unit-246/

First chapter is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13112-unit-246/ Former chapter is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13150-unit-246-chapter-five/ Unit 246: Interlude ”Is there any Mr. or Mrs. Czythia in your life?” Unit 246 was sitting in a space harbour with Sister Czythia, though the title Sister was just an archaic convention. There were male human nurses called Sister, and the extra-terrestrial physiology of Sister Czythia made it even more of a non-gendered word. ”No, I live for my work as a nurse, in this phase of my life. Death will come soon enough.” ”It sounds lonely. Even some of us Units have someone dear in a harbour or two.” Nurse stared at him, and expressed vapours of surprise and disbelief. ”You don’t read about Bleronia in school, do you?” ”My memories of school are fragmentary. It feels like I have aways been a Unit. The only knowledge kept, is the one reinforced by the Programming. We read about the First Encounter, the Peace Treaty and the emergence of the Galactic Empire, but not much about details, unless you are Blero-geek or a Blerotarian." ”A Blerotarian? Oh, forgive me. I had forgotten about the First Blerotarian Galactic Church of Intermediate Days’ Benevolents. Now, when you mention them – yes, I am aware of their existence.” ”Have you ever wondered why we Bleronians find it so hard to translate the words for… let me see… ’sex’, ’children’, ’death’ and ’suicide’?” ”Sorry, wasn’t aware.” Sister Czythia had changed their way of speaking, like they were talking to a young child: ”You see, when three Bleronians love each other very, very much…” ”Three?” ”Don’t interrupt me. When three Bleronians love each other very, very much, they merge, and then they divide into three offspring. What you humans call ’sex’ is in every practical sense the same as what you call ’suicide’. That’s why the Bleronian-French expression suicide passionnel has entered several human languages.” ”Don’t the children remember their past life?” ”Not the life of their three parents, no. Some do remember the past lives of their middle souls.” ”Middle souls?” ”We believe Bleronians have three souls. The upper soul comes from The Great Spirit, and returns to The Great Spirit at final cell division. The middle soul transmigrates – sometimes as another Bleronian, sometimes as other life forms, even on other planets, other realities or as a being in Purgatory. Perhaps my middle soul has been a human in the past? After final cell division the lower souls of the three parents are honoured by the three resulting children and their descendants, and it might sometimes return to haunt the living. That’s what the memorial household-shrines are for.” ”So you simultaneously believe in salvation, reincarnation and ghosts?” ”We don’t use these words. They do not entirely convey the meaning of the Bleronian words about the matter, and it would be impolite and insensitive to project telepathic communication about that subject matter. Human Blerotarians are considered mistaken by most Bleronians.” ”Why? On Earth, religious adherents try to spread their religions. Don’t Bleronians like, when human Blerotarians take up the Bleronian way?” ”That’s not true. I have read about the Human paths of customs you call Confucianism, Hinduism, Sikhism, Judaism, Shinto and Zoroastrianism. They do not hunt new adherents like the human Blerotarians do. Bleronians do not recruit humans to the Bleronian way of doing things, and on that point Blerotarianism is a self-contradiction. Knocking on doors? Public revival meetings? Very strange. Very non-Bleronian, but rather Human, though, as I said, not typical for all humankind.” ”Do Humans have three souls?” ”How could we know? You’d better ask yourself that question. What if you have four? Or seven? Even if you have three souls, you don’t need to behave in a Bleronian way to cultivate them. One or several of your existing Human paths of customs might be what Humans need, but how would I know? I’ve understood that three ancestor-spirits are of particular importance to your species: Buddha, Jesus and Mohammad.” ”Uh. It’s complicated, and I’m not an expert, but I’m sure, that it is more complicated than what you say. Let’s talk about something else, eh?” ”As you wish.” Unit 246 inhaled to begin another topic, but abruptly arched in what seemed like a sense of pain. His eyes were tightly closed, and the metal table they shared was bended out of proportion by his powerful legs. Their glasses fell to the floor, and Sister Czythia asked in their usual calm and empathic voice: ”Unit 246, are you all right? What’s happening?” ”My name is William! Yes, Max, yes, Sarge, I’m coming! I know who I am!” * * * To be continued.

This is my first complete story. Some of you have been reading this in the Unfinished section of this forum. It's now finished, so I'm posting it here. Thank you to those people who have already given me positive comments on this story. They will undoubtedly encourage me to write more stories. The story has six chapters. Some of them have gay themes, others straight themes, and others bi. I have made some very slight edits to the original six parts that were posted originally, to hopefully improve the story slightly, when it comes to grammar and continuity. Hope you enjoy my story! ------------ BLACK HULK Chapter 1: Kris meets Black Hulk Everyone gasped when he entered. He swaggered slowly to a deckchair, with his belongings, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. This was not odd, since we were in the hotel indoor pool, me and around six or seven strangers. What made everyone gasp was the sheer amount of muscular development this man's body was presenting to our senses. To me, those muscles were instantly recognizable. They belonged to Henk Kuria, or, as everyone in the porn industry called him, Black Hulk. Winner of the past three Mr. Olympias and a long string of other bodybuilding contests, Black Hulk stormed into the bodybuilding scene in 2020 as a 6'4, 380lbs unknown 20-year-old from Kenya. That year, he not only easily defeated, and humiliated, the then Mr. O. Phil Heath, but has won every bodybuilding contest he entered. The incredible thing is that, according to the latest news from the IFBB, Black Hulk weighed an astonishing 420lbs in last year's Mr. O., with a barely comprehensible 4% bodyfat. How do I know this? Well, I've jacked off at least once everyday as soon as my eyes feasted on this giant monument of musculature back then in 2020. So much, so that this year I decided to travel all the way to Las Vegas to witness this guy live. I truly am a huge fan of his. Not just for his giant muscles, but also for his lifestyle. A few months after he won his first Olympia, Black Hulk came out as bisexual. At first, there were rumors that the IFBB would retract his title, but soon common sense prevailed. At that time, Black Hulk started to feature in a lot of porno movies, some straight, some gay, and some bi. The astonishing thing is that, as time went by, not only did his incredibly huge muscles became bigger and bigger, but also, visibly, his cock and balls grew in unison. In his first porno, fucking Lela Star, he had a very respectable 8 inch cock. In his last, not only did he grew 40lbs of muscle since that first porn flick, but also 2 inches of cock; moreover, his dick is visibly much thicker. This last porno was a reverse gangbang, where Black Hulk fucked 20 women in 2 hours. One after the other, every woman roared in an earth shattering orgasm, begging him to stop. Then, in the end, he climaxed on all of them at once, in a cumblast that lasted a full minute. Needless to say, this porno flick proved very popular. The gay porn community have now asked him to film a gay-themed similar flick, with 20 men. Anyway, Black Hulk is here, a few feet away from me. Apparently, he decided to use the services of the same hotel I was in, during his stay in Las Vegas to undoubtedly conquer Mr. Olympia for a fourth time. My cock instantly grew rock hard in my swimtrunks; luckily I was in the pool, so nobody noticed. What also helped somewhat was the fact that every other person that, up till that point, were with me in the pool decided to pack their things and leave. Maybe they were disgusted by his muscles, or by his well-known overly sexualized lifestyle, who knows. Fact is, I was the only one to witness him casually removing his towel from his overly-muscular waist, revealing a swimsuit that was clearly struggling to contain the massive cock and balls inside it. Then he proceeded to jump in the pool, with a grace that beguiled his enormous frame. This was too good an opportunity to miss. I had to talk to him! But... I completely froze! "Hey man, nice traps" a heavily-accented voice said. It took me a while to realize that Black Hulk has just spoken, and, further, that he was referring to... me! "Uh... fuck. I mean... uh... thanks" I stammered. "I'm... I'm Kris... I'm... uh... sorry, I... big fan... I... I..." "No need to be shy around me, Kris" he grinned, his teeth's sparkling whiteness contrasting sharply with his dark black supermuscular body. "You must work out? I like your traps a lot." Black Hulk is complementing ME? Wow, this must be a dream. "Uh, thanks, uh, yes, I do..." That was all my brain could muster. "You've got a nice package down there too", he continued, grinning even wider. Instinctively, I turned beet red, and tried to cover my erect genitals. Damn, I must be so erect that he could notice from above the water. "You are indeed a big fan." he continued. "Am I responsible for some of your orgasms?" "ALL of them" I blurted out loud. "Since your first Mr. Olympia win, I haven't orgasmed to any human being except you." That was the brutally honest truth. "Good. I like sexy fans like you. You here to see me win another Olympia, right?" "Yes... yes I am. Nobody comes close to your hypermuscular body." "Indeed, nobody does." He climbed out of the water. "Come here. Feel my body. I don't bite." Suddenly, like a wild animal overcame with lust, I jumped out of the pool and started squeezing all of his bodyparts. Those traps, that seemed to go all the way level to his ears. That barrell neck, thicker than the circumference of his head. Those huge shoulders, so monumentally massive and defined. Those impossible biceps, that, even relaxed, seemed like somebody had stuffed a melon inside them. Those triceps, that protuded so far out of his arms that they almost looked like biceps. Those forearms, so incredibly thick, thicker than a normal man's legs. Those pectorals, incomprehensibly thick and full shelves of muscular power. Those abdominals, looking and feeling like eight slabs of diamond-hard bricks on his tapered down waist. Those lats, popping out so ridiculously wide of his back that they seemed like almost having a life of their own. That unbelievable back, so thick and defined and wide and massive. Those quads, impossibly muscular and immense, so massively muscled that I couldn't even hug one. Those calves, scarcely comprehensible slabs of meat, each bigger than my own pecs. Those glutes, protruding out of his hips even more than his monstrous back muscles. Every single bodypart of this incredible human specimen required your constant attention and worship. I found myself squeezing, feeling, massaging, sometimes even licking each and every one of his bodyparts. "Mmm, you really like my body, don't you Kris? This year, I weigh 440lbs, 4% bodyfat. That's another 20lbs more than last year's Mr. O." He moaned contentedly. I was slowly turning him on. "How do you do it, Black Hulk?" I asked him I licked one of his nipples, then continued "I mean, I'm proud of my 5'9, 190lbs body, but I have to work really hard to stay in shape. You look godlike all the time. I'm squeezing as hard as I can and it feels like squeezing a marble statue." "Man, you want my body so bad. Your lust for me is actually turning me on" moaned the superbodybuilder. "Let's go to my room. It's more private." He dried off, and re-wrapped his towel around his waist. Even like this, the towel was slightly tented... his cock was indeed half-hard. "You sure? I mean... yes, YES" I almost shouted. I hurriedly dried off and wrapped my own towel around my waist, concealing my own totally erect cock that had been straining my swimtrunks for the past half an hour. As we were leaving, a family entered the pool premises. The mother and the father were shocked by the dimensions of my idol, and they were relieved that we were leaving. Their son, who couldn't have been older than 7 years old, pointed at him and said "Look, Mommy, it's the Hulk!" We exited the pool amid the voices of the mother and father trying to explain to their kid that my idol wasn't the Hulk because his skin wasn't green. It took us around five minutes to reach his room at the twenty-first floor. During those five minutes, a million thoughts raced through my head. Are we going to have sex? Will this be just a worship session? Am I dreaming? Whatever it was, I thought how blessed I was to be with the man of my dreams, even if this was, indeed, a dream. We entered his room, and I closed the door. The room was huge, almost like an apartment. I was marveling at the beauty and size of the room, when I felt him hugging me from my back. Then he whispered, in that sexy accent of his, "Let me give you a pre-show." He allowed me to turn around. His cock and balls were now visibly straining his swimtrunks more than before. He started to practice his posing routine in front of me. Now I already described to you his incredibly huge muscles, how massively thick, huge, hard, and bulging they were. That was when he was relaxed. When flexing them, his muscles really came alive. When he did a crab pose, his already enormous and thick pecs inflated outwards like balloons, except that they were even harder than before. I found myself getting so hard that I had to take off my swimtrunks, because they were hurting. He slightly gasped when he saw my erect cock, probably because it was leaking precum. He did a back pose, copying Ronnie Coleman's signature pose, where he would spread his lats more and more, until he reaches their maximum spread. Except this man's back was infinitely thicker and infinitely wider, to the point where, in his final lat spread pose, his fists couldn't even reach his relatively small waist. I moaned slightly in response, as my precum was forming a small puddle below me. He then turned sideways, and here his absurd thickness was made clear. My eyes traced through his neck and traps, going outwards through his immense back muscles and monstrous pecs, to then narrow down to his waist and well-muscled abs, to then stretch out absurdly by his impossibly thick glutes and monumental quads. He started doing his signature pose, where he slowly flexed his right bicep, making it turn from a melon, to a bowling ball, to a watermelon. As my eyes bugged out, witnessing the incredible flexing of his bicep, I was absolutely sure that bicep couldn't grow any bigger, but then he grinned and effortlessly flexed it further, making it probably as big as a basketball. I lost it; I started to cum powerfully all over myself, at the sight of this incredible display of musculature, all without ever touching my dick. So powerful was my orgasm that most of my cum hit his forearm, bicep and right quad, even though I was a good two feet away from him. My cock was an erupting volcano that was being kept in check for far too long, resulting in a more massive eruption than usual. My orgasm took about seven seconds to complete. It was, easily, my most satisfying orgasm ever. "God, that's so hot" he murmured, as he scrambled to remove his own swimtrunk, which only succeeded in tearing it off his hulking body. His own cock was now rock hard. "I made you cum just by flexing my muscles... that's the hottest thing I've ever witnessed." he moaned. His cock was covering his navel and his midsection, probably around a foot long and as thick as my wrist... no, probably even thicker. His balls hung low, and looked as big as the rest of him. I came closer to him, rubbing my own cum along his quads, then my left hand cupped his balls. They must have easily been five times bigger than mine, maybe even six. My right hand managed to just encompass the huge girth of his erect cock. Then I started to stroke it, caress it, marveling at its incredible size. "Harder, Kris. Use your full strength with me! Do not hold back!" the massive superbodybuilder implored. "Yes, yes, certainly, I apologize, Black Hulk." "Do not apologize. I like you a lot, Kris. Nobody has ever turned me on as much as you have done today." I started to nibble on his left nipple, which was almost the size of a small penis, while I simultaneously pinched his right nipple and jerked his amazing cock with my hands. He moaned in delight. "Ohh yes, you're good at this" Black Hulk moaned. I'm GOOD at this? This is my very first sexual encounter with anyone, and fate wanted that my very first sex session was to be with the biggest, most muscular bodybuilder on the planet. "Please, don't stop" he continued. I rubbed my hands against his abs, with all my might, in the meantime licking and biting them. I tasted his savoury sweat and a bit of my own cum. His huge cock became even bigger, as it almost hit my head. "FUCK, that's it, I HAVE to fuck you," he roared. He lifted me up like I was a rag doll. He let me face his gigantic upper body while pointing his giant dickhead towards my ass. "Hold on, hold on, Black Hulk! Please... please... be gentle... this is my first time." I felt his massive dickhead penetrating me. Surprisingly, it didn't feel as uncomfortable as I thought. Using just a fraction of his hulk-like strength, he pushed inside me, using his own precum as lubricant, until most of his cock was in. "Relax," he whispered in my ear. "Let go of me, balance on my cock alone, feel how even my cock is super powerful." I did as he told me, and indeed, his cock managed to support my entire weight. I also felt some liquid squirting inside my ass. "Are you... cumming?" I asked him. "That's my precum, Kris. It squirts as far as most people's cumshots. It will help with keeping your insides nice and moist for my cock to slide easily." "Wow, you're amazing, Black Hulk!" I hadn't finished saying this completely... he grabbed my ass and pushed his cock partially out of my hole and pushed it back in, slowly. "Did that hurt?" he asked. "No, no." "Good. Enjoy the ride. Cling to wherever of my body you like!" I grabbed his giant pecs as he started fucking me, first slowly, then faster and faster. At some points, he was almost hitting my prostate. My dick went rock hard again, as I realized that I was completely at this monstrous hulk's mercy. Soon, he started to moan louder, and his body started to glisten with sweat. His glistening muscles flexed several times as he edged closer to orgasm. Then he hit my prostate, sending me into an instinctive orgasm, and... "Oh GOD, Kris, I'm CUMMING... OH... OOOHHHOOHHH... Fuck YEAH!" My butt was blasted repeatedly with this incredible man's cum, in an orgasm that must have taken a full minute. Then, slowly, it abated, and his breathing became more normal. "Ohh... phew, that felt really good Kris." He disengaged his cock off my ass. Surprisingly, none of his cum rolled out of my butthole, and I did not feel bloated or anything. "Uh... where did your cum go?" I asked him. "Is this normal?" "I honestly have no idea" he told me, concerned. Then it hit me. A massive spasm all over my abdomen. Then all over me. Then it went as quickly as it came. Perhaps it took two seconds, tops. "Fuck, what was that?" we asked, together. ---------------- Chapter 2: Mysterious Bodily Reactions We looked at each other, stunned. "Did... did it hurt?" the overly-muscular black bodybuilder asked, after a protruded silence. "No, no. It felt... weird, though. Like there was something inside me stretching my body parts. But now, I feel fine." "You sure?" the muscle monster mused. "Really, Henk, I do." It was the first time I called him by his real name. The hulking muscleman smiled faintly, in approval. "Look, today has been unbelievable getting to... know you better, Henk. You fulfilled my utmost dreams, and more. I'll never forget this day, ever. But now, I'm sure you need to prepare for tomorrow's prejudging and Saturday's contest." "Yes, I do, Kris. But I have an offer for you. Would you want to be backstage tomorrow and Sunday, with me?" "You're kidding? I'd really, REALLY love to! But, I'm not, uh, very well-acquainted with... being back-stage." "I just need you to apply oil on my body. You know, to make my muscles show more. I'm sure you'll do very well in that regard, after how you worshipped me earlier." The huge muscleman winked and grinned. "The rest, leave it up to me. You in?" Rubbing Black Hulk's giant muscles with oil? Who in their right mind would refuse such an offer? "Of COURSE I'm in! I'm just afraid that I'll be turned on all the time by your..." "Good. That's exactly what I want." Black Hulk grinned again. His grin is so hot, I thought: pure white teeth atop a sea of bulging black muscles. "What do you mean?" "You'll see tomorrow." I wanted to ask him why such a successful bodybuilder does not have a team of trainers, nutritionists, sponsors and spokespersons, but I decided not to raise this issue. Still, this IS a little weird. He seems to be all alone in this hotel, after all. The other Mr. Olympia contestants are probably answering questions in press conferences, whereas Black Hulk is in a hotel fucking a stranger... "Oh, and another thing. You're free to come to my room any time while you're staying in this hotel," continued the multiple Mr. O. winner. "Likewise, Henk. Listen, I'm starving. Shall we get something to eat?" "Yes, there's a buffet going on. It started while we were... swimming", the massive black bodybuilder winked. "Let me shower first. I still stink of your cum." He laughed. "Okay, I guess I'll go shower in my room and come back," I said. "No you won't," the immense muscle mountain quipped. He lifted me up with one arm. "You'll shower with me. Why waste water? Besides, you can lather my back much better than I can." "Oh, I can lather every INCH of you, not just your back" I moaned, getting horny again at the prospect of showering with the man of my dreams. He carried me to the shower, and opened the water. We lathered each other. He was right: his upper body was so wide that he couldn't ever lather himself at various places. I paid extra attention to each of his bodyparts, rubbing them with shower gel repeatedly. Even though I had orgasmed twice in the past half an hour, I found myself getting hopelessly horny again. He showed me his massive biceps again, flexing them for me, making them basketballs of power. "Fuck, man, those biceps, they make me rock hard every time. They're so FUCKING immense," I moaned. He placed my cock between his super thick left forearm and his giant left bicep, and flexed the bicep around my cock. Needless to say, this had a very quick effect: my cock blasted another copious amount of cum all over him. He smiled. "It's my turn now" I told him, as I recovered from my third orgasm in thirty five minutes. I grabbed his cock and gave him a good handjob. The cock rose to its barely-believable length and girth. Then I took his cockhead in my mouth; it was as big as a fucking apple. I sucked him as hard as I could, while simultaneously jerking it off with all my might and fondling his oversized balls. He started to moan louder and louder, until finally I was rewarded with a mighty roar, accompanied by a large stream of cum blasting out of his cock, hitting the sides of the shower with impressive force. His orgasm took about half a minute to abate, which was incredibly amazing, considering that only half an hour before he was spraying cum for an entire minute. We finally headed off the shower. I dried off and wrapped my towel around myself, when I noticed something. "Hey look, that's weird... I don't have any hair anymore! Like, no hair on my chest, my forearms, my legs, my armpits... I don't even have pubic hair!" I touched my head and face. My hair and stubble were still there, thankfully. "Hmm... that IS strange..." the black muscleman mused. "You're... you're kinda like me, now, with no hair below your neck at all." "That's different - you probably waxed it for the contest. Right?" "Uh, actually I didn't. I don't have any hair on my body. Below my head, that is. Maybe... that's what your spasms did to you earlier... still, why would your bodyhair disappear so quickly?" The overly-sized muscleman was deep in thought. "Don't worry about it. I'll get used to it. And, maybe it'll grow again. I'll pop out to my room to wear something. We'll meet near the elevator," I said. A few minutes later. I was next to the elevator, wearing shirt and trousers. I saw him coming, and was stunned again. He was wearing a white T-shirt with the words 'BLACK HULK' embroidered in black, and blue shorts. However, they were so tight on his bulging mountains of muscle that all of his muscle beneath the fabric could easily be traced, including not only his immense pecs, but also his abdominals and his nipples. His shorts expanded ridiculously around his superhuge quads and glutes, each overinflated muscle group threatening to rip it off at any moment. "Jesus, Henk, your clothes leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, don't they?" I murmured. "They don't. I had made these to order when I was 410lbs, a year and a half ago. Now that I'm 440lbs, they are juuuust a little bit tight," he teased. We entered the restaurant and took a plateful of the buffet food. People actually stopped and stared at the huge muscleman. Some murmured something to themselves, others turned to their friends and nudged them to take a look at Henk. I felt proud that I was next to him. Nobody in the whole world has an amorous partner as hot as mine. I was really starving, so I visited the buffet several times, like four or five times. The massive bodybuilder did likewise. I noticed that he was not much choosy with his food; he was eating carbs, protein, fibre, milk products... he was enjoying everything. That's weird, I thought: this guy is going to be in the world's biggest bodybuilding contest tomorrow, and he's not even trying to eat well for it. What I soon found weirder was how my appetite was not satiated, even after eating 7 platefuls of food. Even Henk said he was full after taking seven plates of delicious food. On the other hand, my stomach felt like I barely even started. "Man, you eat even more than I do... that's impressive," the black muscle mountain mused. "I'm surprising even myself... I usually just take three plates, tops, including dessert," I said. "What's happening to me? I'm still starving!" "I honestly have no idea... good thing we have this buffet going on... you can keep eating without paying extra!" Black Hulk said, glancing towards another table. Looking in the direction he was glancing at, there was a young woman sitting down, eyeing both of us, but especially staring at my idol. "You know her?" I whispered. "I don't think I do," confessed the huge bodybuilder. "She wants me badly, though, judging by how she's looking at me. I know that look. Bet her panties are soaking wet!" He laughed faintly at his own joke. "I'll go get another plate of food," I said. "Cool. I'm good. I'll wait for you." As I filled my plate for the eighth time, I actually felt a little bit jealous. But then I remembered that his superhuman musclegod is a well-known pornstar... it is to be expected that he's not into one stable sex partner. Just then, I noticed the top button of my shirt had popped off. That's strange... even my sleeves are filled more than before. It seems like my body is getting bigger. Well, of course it is... I must have eaten close to 8000 calories in the past hour or so. But, my waist was still as trim as ever... it's like the extra weight has gone to my... pecs and arms? I went back to my restaurant seat, noticing that, in the meantime, Black Hulk was in the company of the girl that was eyeing him earlier. "Uh, excuse me, I'll go to the bathroom quick," I quipped, then immediately raced to the bathroom close by. * * * Everyone gasped when he entered. He swaggered slowly to a restaurant seat, accompanied by a man who must have been in his mid-twenties. This was not odd, since we were in the restaurant buffet room, me and around six or seven strangers. What made everyone gasp was the sheer amount of muscular development the former man's body was presenting to our senses. To me, those muscles were instantly recognizable. They belonged to Henk Kuria, or, as everyone in the porn industry called him, Black Hulk. This guy was, in a word, freaky. I've always secretly loved professional bodybuilders. My female friends somehow always found them 'gross' or 'disgusting', and, in front of them, I agreed. But, secretly, I get wet whenever an overly muscular man flashes past my eyes. And Black Hulk wasn't just overly muscular. He was, like, twice as big as the biggest pros. This guy's muscles were astonishingly huge... really, there was no comparison. It was like his muscles had muscles of their own. And he was BLACK. I LOOOVE black men. They look so virile. His skin was really, really dark, too; he was one of the blackest men I had ever witnessed. That made him even hotter, in my books. I had searched for his name ever since I stumbled upon the first porno I watched that featured him. He fucked Lela Star senseless in that porn flick, and the poor girl with the comically enhanced butt just didn't know what hit her. She must have felt like she was being fucked by a bulldozer. And then, his orgasm, showering all over her body... his cumshot was easily that of 10 men combined. After that flick, Lela Star actually took a six month break from porn, citing 'personal issues'. But the stage was set. Black Hulk had stolen her limelight, and that light is still shining brightly. Indeed, he not only shot several other porn flicks, with men, women, or both at once, but he became even bigger, and his orgasms even longer and more powerful. Some people started to question how real his orgasms were, although most did not care. The porn industry made sure to mention that none of what they're filming was staged or faked. And, in most nights, I end up shoving a cucumber in my pussy, fucking myself furiously, wishing that cucumber was Black Hulk fucking me into oblivion as I watch him on my phone in my bed. Anyway, Black Hulk is here, a few feet away from me. For some reason, he happens to be in the same hotel I'm in. Maybe for a new porno shoot? Who knows. I was staring at him. He was wearing a white T-shirt, with the words 'BLACK' and 'HULK'. The word 'BLACK' was stretched all around the top of his enormous pectorals, while the word 'HULK' was below it, in the middle, with his two nipples on either side of the word. Fuck, his T-shirt was so tight that even his nipples were visible; that's insane. His pectorals must be much bigger than my own breasts. That's really saying something, as I wear a 34M cup size. I'm a chubby 5'7, 175lbs woman with a 48-32-40 figure. You either love or hate my body. Some guys find me disgustingly fat, while others just adore my voluptuous body. I've had a few one-night stands with men from the latter category, and they have honestly given me much-needed self-confidence about my body. This made me accept what God has given me, and now I flaunt what I have, rather than try to hide it. Which is what this incredible male specimen a few feet from me certainly does; that T-shirt he's wearing just makes him flaunt the godlike upper body he has. Fuck, he's even hotter up close than in the pornos. My juices were flowing. Just then, the guy he was with him stood up to take another plate. I decided to show slightly more cleavage, to see if the giant black bodybuilder noticed. He did, and smiled. I smiled back, then stood up and came next to him. "Hi, I'm Chloe, nice to meet you, Black Hulk." I extended my hand. He took it and kissed it. "Likewise, Chloe. I'm Henk. You've got a very naturally beautiful body, miss." He smiled. "Thank you. Nowhere near close to your magnificence, though," I said, my heart racing. He likes me. Helikesmehelikesmehelikesmehelikesmeeee... "You're a fan, Chloe?" asked the god, known to us mortals as Black Hulk. "Yes. Big fan of your, uh... movies. Big fan of your huge muscles. You're the best!" I enthused. "Thanks, dear. On holiday?" "No, business trip. I'm a journalist, working for the website CoolnHot.com. I'm assigned to write an article about the gambling and entertainment industry here in Vegas, by witnessing them first-hand. I return home tomorrow morning. You?" "I'm here to win the Mr. Olympia contest for the fourth time." I stared at him blankly. I never heard of a Mr. Olympia contest before. "What's that... a pornstar award?" I asked, innocently. Black Hulk laughed. "No, no. It's the biggest bodybuilding contest in the world. I've won it three times already. I'm here to win it for the fourth time. It starts tomorrow and ends Saturday." Just then, Black Hulk's friend returned, and told us he was going to the bathroom. He left the plate on the table and rushed away to the lavatory. "Who is he?" I asked, curious. "He's Kris. A REALLY good friend. He's responsible for making me look good during the contest while I'm backstage. Mostly by rubbing oil on my body." Wow, I'd love to do that, I thought. "You'd like to do that, don't you?" the massive muscleman asked, grinning. "Uh... yeah... admittedly, I'd love to." How did he know what I was thinking? Am I really that easy to read? "Then come to my room... I will let you do that, and more." He winked at me and smiled again, flashing those pure white, sparking teeth. "That's if you've finished eating, of course," he added. "No, no... I'm finished. But... what about your good friend... Kris?" "I'll just leave a note on the table that I had to leave suddenly. Come on, I'll pay for your meal." Just then, he stood up. "Oh, uh, you don't..." I stopped midway through speaking, as I witnessed his 6'4, 440lbs supermuscular frame towering over me. "I mean, uh, thanks," I corrected myself. The black god endowed with the most immense muscles I had ever seen went to the counter and paid for three meals. He then scribbled a note and left it on the table. I was actually impressed that his thick, muscular fingers could still hold a pen relatively easily. "Let's go, my room is in the twenty-first floor," Black Hulk cooed. People stared at us as they walked out of the restaurant and into the elevator. My panties were practically soaked now. I was worried that some wet spot would be visible down my dress, especially since there was another couple with us in the elevator. Their eyes bugged out when they saw the mountain of muscle that was with me. I felt proud of my catch tonight... I was sure this one-night stand will be my best one ever. We arrived at his room. I guess it was some kind of executive suite, because it was much larger and spacious than my room. I closed the door behind me, and immediately sneaked in his bathroom, removing all my clothes. I was never so wet and horny in my life. I tiptoed out, and, before he had even turned around from placing the door key on the desk, I rubbed his massive back, and whispered: "Ready when you are, Black Hulk." ---------------- Chapter 3: Chloe Sex and Muscle Growth He turned around, surprised at my directness. His deep brown eyes scanned my naked body from top to bottom. They approved of what they saw. "I'm always ready, Chloe. You have a very curvy, beautiful body. It reminds me of the beautiful women from my home country. Except your white skin, which I find very appealing," the muscular pornstar said. He put his well-muscled arms around my nude lower back, inviting me to draw myself even closer to his titanic body. I gladly accepted the invitation, and began to grind my entire body, especially my ample breasts, against his hulking, bulging muscles. My head could only reach his monstrous pectorals, so I cradled it between them. He moved his hands towards my round butt, and squeezed them. Being so close to him, I felt his cock starting to stir. "You like my ass, huh?" I cooed as I lifted his T-shirt, willing him to remove it. This exposed his fantastically muscled eight-pack abdominals. I started to squeeze them, but they felt like hard bricks. They were so thick that I could insert my entire index finger in the space between each of the brick-like abdominals. "Holy cow, you're a fucking muscle brick shit-house. Your muscles are even bigger than they look in your pornos," I continued, in absolute amazement. He said nothing; he only grinned at me. Then, his right hand moved towards his T-shirt. Tugging it from the bottom, he tore it off his ridiculously overdeveloped upper body like he had been tearing off toilet paper. His entire upper body was now exposed, and I almost fainted. From the position I was, I could see two enormous orbs of pectoral muscles, each as big as a gravel sack. I rubbed them slowly. They were dense, thick slabs of power; no wonder he could rip off this oversized, yet barely-fitting T-shirt so incredibly easily. The minimal effort he produced to tear off his T-shirt off his body made his arm visibly bounce... it looked as big as one of my buckets I use when I wash my apartment's floor. It was my turn to get speechless. I felt my vaginal fluids roll down the inside of my thighs - I was THAT turned on. My breathing grew heavier. He then gently lifted me up, so that my eyes were level with his. His grin was confident, cocky. He was definitely my first one-night stand that could lift me up so easily, as if my curvy, 175lbs body was as heavy as a book, to him. He lowered his head and sucked my right nipple, which I felt was as big as one of my lipstick bullets. Instinctively, I lowered my head back in ecstasy, as I felt his lips leave my right nipple to plant themselves on my left. I started moaning loudly, wishing him to ravage my pussy with that huge cock of his, that 10 inch monster I always fantasized would, one day, be sliding inside MY pussy instead of the pussy of some random plastic-surgery-filled pornstar. He placed me back on the floor. My eyes were transfixed on the ridiculous bulge between his massive thighs. He removed his shorts, freeing his massive cock from its confines. It immediately sprang upwards, hitting my abdomen in the process, then started to lengthen and thicken further. He had no pants beneath the shorts. Finally, the magnificent dick eased its growth. It pointed directly to my face; I imagined it telling me that, since I was responsible for waking it up, it was going to fuck me really hard. It looked bigger than 10 inches, and thicker than the cucumber I practise with when watching his porn flicks. My sexual arousal has never been this high. My mind was completely blown away by this god. I felt my juices trickle down my thigh and reaching my knees. "You told me 'ready when you are' earlier. Well, I'm definitely ready NOW," Black Hulk announced. He lifted me with one arm and placed me on his bed in a doggy position, with my ample butt facing him. I then waited for him to insert his giant black fuckstick inside my waiting pussy. I felt him do precisely that a moment later. His cock felt really hard and filled up my vaginal walls completely, but I was so well lubricated that there was no pain at all, just ecstasy. "Oh God, you're so big, you fill me up so much. Fuck me, fuck me HARD!" I shouted in delirium. He didn't need my compliance. I felt his hands grab my ass, then he started to fuck me senseless. Each push of his cock inside me felt like a mini-orgasm. I started shouting obscenities, strings of dirty vulgarities that my mind was stringing up there and then. I was nearing an earth-shattering orgasm, so my slurs were becoming more and more high-pitched. In response, he fucked me faster. That was it: my eyes rolled backwards and my mouth made an exaggerated 'OOOOOOOHHHHHH' shape as I climaxed powerfully, my vocal chords trying to keep up with the intensity of my orgasm. He slowed down, waiting for my orgasm to subside, then picked up the pace once again. I felt his cock throbbing even bigger inside me, probably triggered by my insane climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuckk, FFFUUUUUCCKKKKK OOOOOHOHOHHHHOHOHHH GODDDDDDDD FUUUUUUUUUUCK YEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!" I shouted as another orgasm hit my senses. He slowed down again, then restarted his relentless pussy drilling with that insane cock he has. I've seen him do it several times in his porn movies; how he'd fuck a girl repeatedly, sending her into countless orgasms, until she literally couldn't take any more, and then, and only then, he ejaculates. I used to think that a lot of editing was involved for that to truly happen. It turns out no editing was required; this man, or should I say, god, knew how to please a woman in a complete, entire way. "Fuck... fuck... Hulk... HULK... BLACK HULK... PLEASE... no more... oh god... you're so good... but please... no more... that's more than enough... fuck... so much cock..." I finally told him after my latest mind-blowing orgasm. I must have orgasmed eight, nine, ten times, I don't remember. He slowed down, then proceeded to slide his cock off my pussy. "No, Black Hulk, what are you doing? I want you to fill my pussy up with your seed." "You sure?" "Yes, I am. I'm on the pill, and I've had my period six days ago. It's safe. Please fill me up with your seed. I beg you. It would make me complete." Black Hulk obliged. He inserted his still rock hard, massive cock inside my vagina. He started to fuck me yet again, but this time, his technique was subtly different. This time, he was doing this to pleasure himself, not myself. Soon I heard him moan louder and louder. I figured he was getting close to orgasm, as his fucks became quicker and more powerful. Finally, I felt him insert his cock completely inside me, almost together with half of his balls, and he roared loudly. I felt my pussy being blasted by an incomprehensible amount of cum. His orgasm lingered on for what seemed like a full minute. During this time, his cock was spewing cum non-stop. I felt my belly actually expand a little bit as my internal organs tried to accommodate this insane amount of cum that was being introduced to them. Finally, his orgasm abated, and he sighed contently. My belly went back to its usual form, and he disengaged his gigantic organ off my vagina. I turned round slowly on the bed to face him. He was covered in sweat, which I found really hot. I opened my legs to allow some of his cum flow out of my vagina, but, surprisingly, none did. "Hey, what the hell? Where did all that cum go?" "I... I have no idea," Black Hulk said. He looked concerned. Then, I suddenly felt it. A massive spasm all over my abdomen. Then another one all over me. Then several spasms, one after the other, shaking my entire body. I continued spasming like this, for what seemed like an eternity. During all this time, I couldn't speak, nor move, nor do anything except spasming, although I was completely conscious. Then, finally, as I was expecting another spasm hitting me, it did not come. I waited and waited, but nothing happened. I must have spasmed for, like, an entire minute. Black Hulk looked at me, and uttered "Oh my god!" * * * I went back to my restaurant seat, noticing that, in the meantime, Black Hulk was in the company of the girl that was eyeing him earlier. "Uh, excuse me, I'll go to the bathroom quick," I quipped, then immediately raced to the bathroom close by. I looked in the mirror. My pecs were definitely bigger. I felt them, and confirmed my suspicion: they were not only bigger, but firmer, denser. Removing the remaining buttons of my shirt, my eyes analysed my abdominals. They looked more defined. My arms looked like they were tighter around my half-sleeve, too, and, although I wasn't feeling uncomfortable yet, my trousers looked tighter around my quads. I smiled. I redid the buttons of my shirt - well, all of them except the top one, which popped earlier - and went back to the restaurant. Strangely, my massive bodybuilding friend was nowhere to be seen. When I went back to our table, there was a note: "Something came up. I paid for your meal. See you tomorrow. BLACK HULK." Something came up, huh? He's probably fondling that bitch's huge boobs right now. Oh well, he's a pornstar, after all... I wolfed down the plate that I had filled up earlier, the one I had left on the table. I was still hungry. Like, REALLY hungry. I revisited the buffet table many other times. Each time, I devoured the food like I had not eaten for weeks. After five more plates, another button popped off my shirt. I decided to undo all the buttons at this point. People were leaving the restaurant, it was getting late. I continued to relentlessly gulp down plateful after plateful of food, amid occasional tears of fabric from my short sleeves or trousers. Finally, after eating about 30 plates of food, I was satiated. Mind you, it felt like I've just eaten a salad, but, at least, I wasn't hungry anymore. I stood up to leave, when the kitchen staff manager stopped me. "Sir, you have to pay." "Uh, my friend paid for my meal already." "Yes, he did," he explained, glancing at my upper body, partly concealed by my tattered shirt, then at my face again. "But, uh, you ate much, much more food than I had ever seen in my twelve years of being head of this restaurant. So we thought that, uh, you'd pay again? It would still be a bargain for you, you know." He sounded sheepish, which was something I never got from other people before. It was as if he was afraid talking to me. "Uh, sure, I understand. Here, I'll pay twice as much as the price bill. You deserve it, the food was delicious." My hands reached out for my wallet. In doing so, my right bicep involuntarily flexed, causing my right sleeve to rip completely. The restaurant manager gulped. "No, no, no... uh, you know what, we're fine. We're glad our service was to your satisfaction. We're good. You may leave." "Take this as a tip," I insisted, handing him seventy dollars. "And I'll be sure to recommend your restaurant to my friends." "Thank you, sir. Much appreciated." He took the money and hurried back to the kitchen, relieved. I proceeded to go back to my room. People stared at me as I walked. Part of my shirt and trousers were in tatters, so I thought that's why people were staring. I arrived at my room, removed my clothes, and looked at the bathroom mirror. The reflection depicted on the mirror shocked me. I looked like a professional bodybuilder. My muscles, even relaxed, were round and hard. Nowhere close in size as those of Black Hulk, but easily as big as those of the bodybuilders from the noughties era. I looked like Jay Cutler in his prime. No wonder people were staring at me, and no wonder that restaurant manager was stuttering. I started flexing, and my muscles responded beautifully. My biceps were particularly huge, perfect peaks of muscle flesh. My pectorals were thick and heavy. My abdominals were massive and well-defined. My quads were twice as big as before, and even my cock looked bigger. I felt it grow and harden as my eyes feasted on my own, hot, muscular body. I marveled at its size... easily two inches bigger than before, both in length and in circumference, and completely hairless - like the rest of me. My balls felt fuller and bigger, too. I then noticed a bathroom scale tucked away in the corner of the hotel room. I reached out for it, and stepped on it. My eyes couldn't believe it when the needle stopped at... 260lbs. My brain was trying to comprehend my new mass. Even if I assumed that the scales were not calibrated correctly, it still meant that I had somehow gained 70lbs of mass in a few hours. Even weirder, from what I saw in the mirror, all of this mass was added to my muscles and cock, and none of it went in my body as fat. "Wow," I finally gasped. "I look incredible." But, what caused this? My mind started to recall the earlier events of the day. Then I remembered. The spasms. The cum somehow magically disappearing inside me. Black Hulk! His cum must have done this to me. I didn't mind this at all, of course. In fact, I was grateful for this gift that he gave me. But, I had to go back to his room to have some answers. Problem was, I did not know what I was going to wear. Nothing fit me. I then decided to wear the swimpants I was wearing in the pool earlier. It was still wet, so I wrapped a towel round my waist. People won't ask too many questions, seeing me like this. It would look like I was going for a late pool dip. I arrived at his room. As I was going to knock on his door, I heard muffled voices speaking inside. One of them was of a lady, and she sounded upset about something. Then I heard Black Hulk's voice, seemingly trying to calm her down and reassure her. In the next few minutes, her voice took a different tone, and she seemed much more amiable. I heard them approach the door. "My clothes still fit me," I thought I heard the lady say. "I look really hot!" "You were hot before, too," I heard Black Hulk's voice say, "only now you're even hotter." "I'm ready. Let's go," she said. I decided to knock on the door, otherwise I'd be accused of overhearing their conversation. "It's me, Kris. Am I disturbing?" The door opened. Black Hulk was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, identical to those he wore with me at the restaurants, but, this time, the colours were inverted: the T-shirt was blue and the shorts were white. Then a lady appeared, who I recognized as the woman we met at the restaurant. She looked slightly different, but I couldn't put a finger into how. "Uh, hi Kris. This is Chloe. We were just... OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?" ---------------- Chapter 4: Chloe's Transformation "I grew." I flexed a bicep. With little effort, it became as big as a grapefruit. "I grew a LOT," I continued. "And I wanted to ask YOU, man, what happened to ME, because YOU caused this." "Don't waste time, sexy," the girl who Black Hulk introduced as Chloe mused, "I have already asked him how he did THIS to ME, but he claims he does not know." With that, she lifted her dress, and I gasped. Her breasts were still really big, but now her belly was gone. Instead of it, she had a flat stomach, with visible, but faint, abdominals. Her arms looked narrower and more toned, as did her legs. "He transformed me into a fitness model," she continued, "just by, uh, having sex with me. I started to spasm uncontrollably, and when that was over, my body fat had melted, except for the fat in my breasts and butt." Wow, I thought to myself. What the fuck? "Listen, I already told you that I don't know what's happening. It's the truth," the immensely musclebound, black musclegod said. "And you - and I -love your new look, anyway." "That's besides the point. I look too hot, now, to work in any normal job. Do you think I can continue to be a journalist with a body like this?" she said. "I told you already, you can be my spokesperson. And you agreed, didn't you?" Black Hulk replied. "Yes, I did. And I'm looking forward to it. It gives me an amazing opportunity to be close to you. Although," turning to me, "Your friend Kris here is HOTTT too. Wow, look at that body!" "Thanks, Chloe, but if you're trying to seduce me, it's not working. That's not how I swing. Sorry to disappoint," I smiled. Honestly, however, she did look incredible. Perhaps I could make an exception with her... "Pity," she uttered. Then she changed the subject. "I'm starving to death here. Let's go eat something. Isn't that why we were leaving?", she said, as she lowered her dress again. "Hold on a minute," I said. "What did you say? You're hungry?" "Awfully so. I feel like I haven't eaten for an entire month," she answered. "Well, the same thing happened to me. I don't know if this super muscle god," - referring to Black Hulk - "told you, but we had steamy hot sex earlier today." I stopped, reminiscing those incredible, orgasming moments. "Anyway, my body also spasmed a bit, though only for a couple of seconds. Also, all of my body hair disappeared. Then, I started feeling REALLY hungry. I've just finished eating, actually. More than thirty platefuls of buffet food. And I could eat more, if I wanted to... after all that food, I feel like I've eaten a salad. That is how I got all these muscles." "Wait, so... if I eat, I'll grow muscles?" she mused. "Probably. Judging from what happened to me, anyway." Turning to the massive bodybuilder, I said, "that's why I came to your room, Henk, to demand an explanation." "And I don't have any," Black Hulk said. "I'll repeat what I said to Chloe. I'm as puzzled by what happened to each of you as you are. Honest to God." "So, let me get this straight. If I eat, I'll become big and muscular?" Chloe repeated. "This fitness body is hot, and I can certainly live with it. But, me being huge and buff, like both of you... I don't know if I can handle that. But... I'm SOOOO hungry, dammit!" "Look, uh, maybe it doesn't work the same way for women as it does for men" said the black, musclebound god, to try to calm down the situation. "Come on, let's go. I know of a place close by that offers huge servings; if you eat it all, you get it for free. You need to eat first, Chloe, then worry about what you look like later." "So THAT's how you solve this problem, huh?" snapped the lady. "I eat first, then worry about how I look like later?" "Have you got a better idea?" the insanely muscular hulking man answered, quietly. Then he continued, "Look, if it helps, I did not want to be this big, either. But I did become this big, and I learned to embrace my body." "What do you mean?" I interjected. "You started going to the gym to get bigger, right?" Black Hulk paused. Both my pair of eyes and Chloe's were on his. For once, we were not looking at his outrageously muscular body stretching his T-shirt and shorts to their absolute limits. Then, he broke the silence. "Would you believe me if I told you that I never set foot in any gym in my entire life?" "WHAT???" me and Chloe shouted simultaneously. "Look, man, that's simply not possible," I continued. "Nobody grows a body as huge, dense, and bulging with muscles as the one you possess without lifting stuff. Then again..." I paused, then continued, "nobody grows 70lbs of muscle in a couple of hours, either. So many weird things happened today that what you've just said could also be true!" Black Hulk nodded. "Is that how much you grew?" asked Chloe, still shaken by the events that have unravelled in the past few hours. "Yes. That's how much I grew." I answered. "I weighed 190lbs this morning. Now I weigh 260lbs." "Wow... then I will REALLY become buff, if that happens to me as well," Chloe mused. "Say, I wonder how much I weigh right now." She stepped on the scales, which, unlike those in my room, were actually easily accessible in this one. "Wow, I only weigh 145lbs. I lost 30lbs!" "Really? Then maybe that's what the spasms were doing... they were melting away your fat," I suggested. "Maybe that's why I did not spasm as much as you did, too." She was probably going to retaliate my last suggestion that she was fatter than I was with a tirade of verbal abuse, but then she felt her tight stomach rumble. "Hey, can we continue discussing this later? I kinda need food URGENTLY." "Sure. You're coming with us, Kris?" Black Hulk asked me. "I'd love to, but nothing fits me. Can I lend some clothes?" I asked. "I could, but I'm 6'4 and I outweigh you by almost 200lbs. You're only, like 5'9." "I don't mind. I can still wear something." Black Hulk rummaged in his luggage. "Here, try these," he told me after extracting a yellow, full-sleeved, shirt and black shorts. "I was going to give them to a lucky fan next Sunday. They're from my first ever Mr. O. win, when I was 380lbs. Sorry, that's the smallest item of clothing I've got." I went to his bathroom, and tried them on. They were definitely too big for me, even though I was a veritable bodybuilding specimen myself. But there was nothing better to wear. I adjusted the sleeves to fit on my body as well as possible, and came out of the bathroom. "This will have to do. Let's go." We hurried to the restaurant, which turned out to be a pizza place. The decor contained a few pictures of past Mr. Olympias. In the middle, there was a picture of Black Hulk from last year's contest, triumphantly flexing his left arm, a barely comprehensible basketball of power, and clutching the trophy with his right. Some of the other clients greeted the arrival of the man, who seemed so revered in this restaurant. The owner greeted us, too, and shook Black Hulk's hand. "Good to see you, Paul," the musclegod said to the owner. "This is Kris, and she is Chloe." "Nice to meet you all. Hope you enjoy my food! Today I've got the Black Hulk pizza. We usually serve it to a group of 6 to 8 people. If somebody of you eats it alone, he... or she... gets it for free!" "I accept the challenge," said Chloe promptly. "My, my, lady, you have a huge appetite," smiled Paul the restaurant owner. "Mind you, if you lose the challenge, you'll have to pay for the pizza. It's worth $80, but, since you're a friend of Black Hulk, I'll give you a discount." "She won't lose," said Black Hulk the person, grinning. "Me and Kris here will split another Black Hulk pizza. What do you say, Kris?" "That's fine by me," I said. "I guess we can manage that." "Cool. Two Black Hulks then! One of my servers will be right back in a moment with your pizzas!" He hurried to the kitchen. "Look, Chloe, bill's on me, so don't stress if you lose the challenge," the supermuscular hulk told Chloe, softly. "But, I'm rooting for you!" "I WILL win the challenge! I've never been so hungry! I swear if I don't have food in front of me in fifteen minutes, then I'll eat both of you alive!" She laughed at her own joke. She looked happy, and raring to go. I smiled at her joke. I was happy too. Today's events made me happy. I was grateful for today. In the space of a few hours, Black Hulk turned from a distant idol to a close friend, who gave me an incredible gift; the gift of massive muscle size. Actually, he gave me another gift: the gift of friendship. I looked at him, at that body, and smiled. Shit, looking at his magnificent, supermuscular, bulging body never gets old. My cock stirred in my pants. The pizzas soon arrive. They were indeed HUGE. They couldn't fit together on our table, so one of the servers combined another table close by to ours. The server bringing the pizzas was a girl. She gave one to Chloe and split the other one. "I'm Amanda, your server" said the girl. "I'll be making sure that none of you boys will be helping the lady with her challenge. Especially you, Black Hulk. Pleased to meet you, by the way. You are even bigger than the pictures suggest." "That's what everyone tells me. Pleased to meet you too, Amanda. I'll be a good boy; I won't help Chloe here in any way!" Black Hulk answered, winking at the girl. The moment her pizza was served in front of her, Chloe began wolfing it down. It was a bit hilarious, in a way, seeing this 145lbs, 5'7 woman eating such a huge pizza. Not only was the pizza huge, but it was also topped with lots of ingredients: pepperoni, minced meat, artichoke hearts, tomato, peas, onion, green pepper, olives, and, of course, cheese. Me and my impossibly-muscular friend started to eat ours. The pizza was, indeed, delicious. Chloe was on a mission, eating a quarter of the pizza before we had even eaten our first slice. She didn't say anything, just ate and ate and ate. Amanda, for her part, had her eyes transfixed on Black Hulk. His upper body bounced and flexed involuntarily as he ate the pizza. She saw the bulging pecs and arms, and swallowed hard. She went in a dream-like state, as if she was thinking about a raunchy situation - indeed, her face turned slightly red. "Amanda, you should keep your focus on Chloe here, you know..." the monumental musclegod told her, grinning. "Uh, yes, sure, sure, I'm completely focused on what she's doing," the girl stammered. But she really wasn't, of course. She was mesmerized by Black Hulk, the supermuscular god of male bodybuilding perfection. Chloe was already on the sixth slice of the 16-slice pizza. She had already eaten more than two person's worth of food. By contrast, I was on my third slice, and Black Hulk was on his second. I watched, fascinated. It looked like her dress was slightly tighter around her bosom and shoulders. While eating her eighth slice, there was the sound of tearing fabric. Chloe seemed not to notice, and continued eating. Glancing at her, I noticed that her dress had ripped slightly from her back. She continued to eat and eat, amid more tearing sounds of her clothes. Black Hulk only ate two slices, then said he ate enough. I managed to eat six slices; not bad, considering I had eaten so much only an hour before. Now, however, I was really full. We could only stare at Chloe eating her pizza and, seemingly unbeknownst to her, growing out of her clothes. Meanwhile, the server girl, Amanda, was barely noticing what was happening to Chloe either. She was still apparently daydreaming about Black Hulk's gigantic slabs of muscle being proudly displaying through his overstretched clothing. She couldn't stop staring at him. I saw her grinding her feet together. Wow, Black Hulk's effect on some people is so strong. But, really, I understand Amanda's reaction to him; after all, I had a similar reaction to him, and probably so did Chloe. Chloe was now two slices away from eating an entire Black Hulk pizza. Her eating rate was steady; she never once took a break. I understood better than anyone how she was doing it, since I went through the same thing a few hours before. People were now approaching our table to witness this busty 5'7 woman manage the feat set by the pizza owner. I noticed her arms were now not just toned, but there were clear biceps, and even triceps, where none were before. She was much wider, too, which was part of the reason why her dress was ripping from her back. Finally, she did it. The last morsel of the pizza was consumed. Everyone cheered. Hearing these sudden cheers, Amanda snapped to her senses, and congratulated Chloe. Sensing that her job was done, she hurried back to help with the other tables. "That's amazing, Chloe. You ate a pizza made for 8 people!" I enthused. "I... I'm still hungry. Can I eat what's left of your pizza?" she meekly uttered. I gasped. "Uh... sure, sure. That's okay with you too, right, Henk?" "Yeah, go ahead. Better not let it go to waste. I'll go to the bathroom in the meantime," said the immensely muscular man after which the pizza was named. Just then, Amanda came out with a tray of drinks for some other table, and noticed the enormous bodybuilder walking to the bathroom. She quickly served the table, then hurried to meet Black Hulk before he entered the restroom. He somehow was not surprised by her; he looked like he was actually waiting for her to meet him there. She entered a staff-only room and invited the huge musclehulk in. After a while, I decided to investigate. "What's taking Black Hulk so long? I'll go see if everything is okay," I told Chloe. Of course, I knew what was happening. I went outside the door marked 'Staff Only', and immediately I could hear moaning and heavy breathing, and an 'oh my god, you're fucking huge!'. Yeah, as I suspected, the black musclegod was making out with the waitress. I went back to my seat. Chloe was almost finished with her pizza. "You okay, Chloe?" I asked her. "Yes, Kris. I'm starting to be full. After eating this last pizza slice, I should be satiated" she said, happily. "You know that you grew, right?" I asked her, softly. "Yes, I know. I actually liked it. How my body was making my dress small. How it couldn't contain it. It felt so good. In fact, I WANTED to grow muscles." I was taken aback by this confession. Just then, Black Hulk came back, looking sprightly as usual. Amanda was close behind him, slightly red-faced, but smiling widely. I went next to my massively muscled friend. "Hey, I know what you did back there," I whispered in his ear. "Yeah, she wanted to see me without my T-shirt. I obliged. Then she grinded her pussy against my right quad until she orgasmed loudly. That's it," Black Hulk whispered back. "After what happened to you two, I'm more careful now," he continued. "Okay, I'm satisfied now!" said Chloe suddenly, chewing the last morsel of our pizza. "Thank you, Black Hulk, for the free pizza, it was delicious!" "Sure, Chloe. I guess it's time for us to go back to the hotel, then. Let's pay and leave," Black Hulk said. He winked at Amanda. She came quickly. He gave her a hundred dollar bill. Paul the restaurant owner came by, to make sure we were satisfied by the food. After assuring him that we indeed were, we left. It was late, almost midnight. Chloe's dress was barely managing to hold her visibly wider frame. I still had a million questions to ask Black Hulk. How did all of this happen? Was it true that he never went to the gym? How did he get so huge, then? Was he somehow affected by someone's cum, the way his cum affected me and Chloe? As I was pondering these things, Chloe suddenly turned to me and said, "Hey, Kris, uh, you have already gone through what I'm going through. Would you mind if you sleep in my room tonight? My room has a double bed, because they couldn't find me a room with a single bed. I... I just want to make sure that nothing happens to me, you know?" "Uh, sure, sure Chloe," I answered. Then, referring to the black, tall, musclebound bodybuilder, I continued "Good night, Black Hulk. And thank you. Today was the best day of my life." "You're welcome, buddy. See you tomorrow at 8. We have breakfast together, okay? And see you too, Chloe. I'll extend your stay a couple more nights, from my own money." And we parted ways. Chloe and I entered her room. It was almost identical to mine, except it had a double bed, as she said. Almost immediately, she removed her dress, shamelessly in front of me, and went in front of the mirror. She gasped at her new, muscular body. Actually, so did I. I'm gay, but this woman was packing so much muscle that this was actually turning me on. Then came a huge surprise. She turned round, removed her bra and her panties, and cooed, in a really sexy voice, "You've feasted your eyes on MY body. Now let me feast my eyes on that sexy bod of yours, Kris." ---------------- Chapter 5: Kris and Chloe Make Out I was taken aback. "Uh, Chloe... you know I'm gay, right?" "Tell that to the bulge between your legs, honey," she replied, pointing to my crotch. "Besides, I only wanted to see your body, not to fuck me." "Fair's fair," I said. And, with that, I removed my oversized shirt, and my shorts. These clothes had made me forget how massively muscular I had become. "Jesus, Kris, you're fucking massive." Chloe's jaws dropped. "You look even bigger than before." "Yes, that could be the case, since I ate almost half a pizza, rememb..." "Oh, shut up. I don't care. All I care about is being in this sea of bulging, sexy, thick, hard muscle." With that, she started feeling my traps, my shoulders, my pectorals. On every bodypart she felt, she moaned appreciatively. "Shit, you're built like a brick shithouse. You're so hot. You're making me so fucking horny," she murmured. This was an absolute first for me. Usually, I'm the person who says these kind of things to another man. This role reversal was unexpected. However, I felt horny, too. Really horny. This woman was turning me on so bad. Her hands traversed my abdominals, a six pack of ripped musculature, then my butt, composed of incredible, striated glutes. I slowly removed my pants. I had to. She smiled. "For a gayboy, you're really turned on right now," she laughed. "Shut up." I admit, I was hurt by her comment. "Good, I hurt your pride. That's what a real man..." she started, but I stopped her. I shoved my half-hard cock in her mouth, and forced her to suck it. Even though she was considerably strong, she was no match for my much bigger strength. "Mmmmmphmphmmphmmphmmppphh!" she complained. The more she struggled, the more turned on I got. Her eyes bugged out as my cock expanded in her mouth. Suddenly I was apprehensive, and let her go. She lashed out at me. "What the FUCK, Kris?" "I... I'm sorry, Chloe. I don't know what hit me. I swear..." "Shut up, silly. I actually LIKED that. A lot. I like it when you're rough. Hey, I can take a beating!" she smiled, as she flexed her biceps, turning them into considerable mountains of female musculature. "In fact," she continued, as she went down on her knees, "let me show you how much I liked that." She took my now hard cock in her mouth, and started to suck it, while her hands tugged at it with all her might. "God, oh GOD, yes, that's good, baby... so, so GOOD. Fuck, you're so good," I was murmuring non-stop. She disengaged her mouth. I was rock hard. My cock felt really huge and thick. Bigger than ever. Probably because it was. "Let's get to bed, honey," she cooed. We did. The double-bed creaked as it took the mass of our considerably developed bodies. I put a finger in her pussy. It was soaking wet. Chloe moaned, and bit her lower lip. "Let me be on top," Chloe whispered. "Let me ride you. I know, this must be strange for you. Sorry about earlier, calling you a gayboy. You're an incredibly handsome man with unreal muscles. You turn me on so bad. I say silly things when I'm turned on. Let me make it up to you." She plunged her soaking wet vagina on my superhard cock. It felt great. My cock felt like it was being sucked by a thousand tiny mouths. So this is what a pussy feels like, huh? I thought. Hmm, that doesn't feel half-bad. In fact, it feels fantastic. Chloe started to ride me. Her ample breasts bounced with each of her thrusts. I was never enamoured with female breasts at all, but now, they suddenly looked really hot. In fact, Chloe looked fucking hot, from head to toe. And not because she was a muscle beast. She was hot because she was a really, really sexy human being, like Black Hulk is, only in a very different way. Her moans got quicker and higher-pitched, as she neared orgasm. Wow, I thought, a woman is going to orgasm because of me? That's so hot. I saw her eyes roll backwards, then her mouth let out a really loud moan. She was in orgasmic bliss. She orgasmed hard. Her body shook all over. Her orgasm was long. It took, like, more than half a minute. All the while, she was convulsing in sexual delirium, and moaning, almost shouting, in delight. Now I'm not obviously an expert in fucking females, but I thought that this wasn't normal. Seeing her climaxing for so long because of me turned me on SOOO much, though. I couldn't believe it. My body, my power, my muscles, must have done this to her. What happened to me? Why am I fucking a woman? Why am I enjoying it so much? Before a few hours ago, my sexual fantasies always involved being with a huge, muscular guy fucking me from behind. Well, I still find that fucking hot. But now, my fantasies are also including people worshipping my muscles and sucking my long, thick, hard cock, which then fucks them hard until they orgasm uncontrollably. Yes, I want to fuck this super sexy, hot woman HARD. "Oh fuck, that orgasm was so intense... your cock is so good! God, that orgasm continued to roll and roll, like a wave... I never felt anything like it!" she enthused, when her orgasm finally subsided. "Now it's my turn, sexy!" I told her. I sat up and grabbed her from her ample back, making her huge breasts squish against my upper body. She was very muscular, but I was stronger, and could easily lift her entire body in this way if I wanted to. Then I started to fuck her, pushing my cock inside her moist pussy. She appeared to like this; her eyes closed and her mouth went slightly wide. I continue fucking her, upping my pace little by little. Soon I felt my orgasm nearing, and I started moaning, first slowly, then more frequently. She sensed my climax was near. "Shoot inside me, honey, gimme your sperm!" I did. And how. "Oh, fuck, FUCKKKK, OHHHHH I'm CUMMINGGG! OHH YESS, OHHH, OHHHHH... it's still going... OOOHHHHOOHHHOHHH SHIIITTT! Ohh god, GOD here it COMESS AGAIN HOLY SHITTT... OHH FUCKK IT'S NOT STOPPINGG! OH MY GODDDD! OHHHH GOD YESS!" I came buckets. My orgasm must have taken way more than half a minute, perhaps even a full minute. It felt so intense, so amazing, so pleasurable, so powerful. That was, undoubtedly, my most satisfying orgasm of my entire life, easily topping my three powerful orgasms I had with Black Hulk a few hours ago. "Holy fuck, that felt REALLY good! I also felt it, the orgasm coming in waves of sexual pleasure." I was almost laughing with pleasure. Chloe was also grinning widely. She disengaged my cock off her pussy. A pool of my hot, white cum poured out of her vagina. "You know, Kris, I thought 'here we go again' when you cummed inside me. Your orgasm felt very similar to Black Hulk's, both in duration and in intensity. But no, your cum was not absorbed inside me, like his did. That's... that's a relief, I guess." "It is," I confirmed. "I never came so much in my life, though. Not even close. Black Hulk must have given us more than one gift. It's not normal for your orgasms to take that long, right?" "No, it's not. It left me completely satisfied, though. It felt better than 10 of my usual multi-orgasms." Then, she looked at my body, again. "God, you're so hot. Your muscles are so thick, so bulging with power. You fucked me there like I weighed nothing to you. Even though I feel very strong myself, and weigh considerably more than an average woman." With that, she climbed out of the bed, and lifted the end of the bed, with myself on it, supporting the bed on only its two front legs. "Wow, girl. You ARE strong. I'm sure many men are incapable of doing that," I enthused. Chloe placed the bed back in its original position. "You know, that surprised even myself," she admitted. "Is there a scale here? I want to find my weight." "If this room is like mine, there should be one stowed away behind the corner of the room, near the door," I said. "Ah yes, there it is. Here goes nothing." She stepped on the scales. "180lbs. Wow, I gained 35lbs. Probably more, since this is my naked weight. Holy shit." "You know, Chloe, your body is not biologically possible," I suddenly said. "What do you mean?" "Your breasts are beautiful and large. So is your butt. On the other hand," I continued, "the rest of your body is completely devoid of fat. This is clear from how apparent are your muscles. Now, that's impossible, because, when females gain or lose fat..." "... they gain or lose it in their breasts, first," Chloe continued. "Precisely. In fact, many female bodybuilders look like men for exactly this reason. To make their muscles visible, they need to lose fat, and they end up literally without breasts. That's why some of them resort to plastic surgery to augment their breasts back. But you... your breasts are enormous, and are mostly fat, and your hips are still very female-like. That's... biologically impossible." "Another gift from Black Hulk?" "Probably. Man, I have so many questions to ask him tomorrow." I then climbed on the scales myself. "Hmm... 270lbs. I gained 10lbs from the pizza restaurant." "You know, I think I'm ready for another round of powerful sex," teased Chloe, as she rubbed my back, feeling its rippling, muscular power. And we spent the rest of the night fucking, fucking and then fucking some more. * * * My phone woke me up. It was 7:30am. Yesterday was a great day. I met two incredibly beautiful persons. I fucked them hard. The sex felt incredible, way better than the sex I perform in my porn movies. They grew after I fucked them. That's weird; that never happened with any of the porn actors. Maybe because I never orgasm inside porn actors - that's strictly prohibited in my contract. Let's hope they don't ask too many questions about that. I stretched my monstrous, black arms and climbed out of the bed. I hope Chloe and Kris wake up in time. You see, I asked the receptionist to extend Chloe's stay for two more nights before I slept yesterday, from my own money. The receptionist rejected the offer, because her room was already booked for today by somebody else. However, he arranged that Chloe switch to my room, so that it becomes a two-person room from a one-person room. I accepted this change - after all, it's cheaper too. So, after asking the receptionist for her room number, I went to tell her the news. However, I heard moans of sexual pleasure when I arrived at her door. She was probably having sex with Kris. So I decided to tell her the news when we meet for breakfast tomorrow. Suddenly, my cellphone rang. "Hello?" "Hi, is this Mr. Henk Kuria?" "Yes, speaking." "Good morning, Mr. Kuria. I'm Tony Halep from the IFBB. You have been chosen for a random doping test ahead of your participation in the Mr. Olympia contest this weekend." "Uh, okay, and what does that... entail, exactly?" I asked. "We'll need you to provide a urine sample by noon today." Shit. That's bad news. Like, really, really terrible news. "Hello? Mr. Kuria? Are you still there?" "Yes, yes, uh, Mr. ... Halep." "We can collect the sample from backstage, don't worry. The prejudging starts at 7pm, as you know, but I'm sure you were going to be here earlier... unless you do a no-show like you did yesterday for the press conference." "Uh, yes, Mr. Halep... I'll be there... at noon," I stammered. "Good. See you then, Mr. Kuria." "Uh, see you." And the line went dead. "Shit, I'm in trouble. Better wake up the others." I said to myself. I dressed quickly, feeling my monstrous, black, hyper muscles stretch the T-shirt and shorts to their limits. I paused... shit, the clothes hugging my huge muscles always feels so good. Then I hurried to Chloe's room, and knocked on her door. "Chloe, Kris, wake up. It's me, Henk." No response. I knocked harder. "Chloe! Kris! It's 8 in the morning. We need to have breakfast together, remember?" Still no response. "Come on, Kris! Chloe! Anyone! Wake up!" as I banged on the door, hoping for someone to wake up. Well, I must have hit on the door a bit too powerfully, because it suddenly gave way, and it fell into their room with a loud bang! The sound was deafening, but, strangely, whoever was inside did not budge. I decided to enter. "Kris? Chloe?" But there was no one there. Then I looked at the door, flat on the ground. There was a number written on it: 427. "Shit, I'm on the wrong floor, I should be on the fifth!" And, with that, I ran the stairs to the fifth floor, and double-checked that I was in front of the right room. 527. Good. I knocked on the door. "Chloe! Kris! Wake up! It's me, Henk." No response. "Come on, Kris, Chloe, please." Then I heard Chloe. "Uuuhhhh... can't we sleep a little more... we're tired." "It's 8 in the morning. Come on. We need to have breakfast soon." The door opened. Chloe was still naked. Her body was perfectly muscular and curvy. She was, simply, a goddess. I never saw another woman as muscular as her, not even among the female pros. At the same time, her figure was sexier than any female pornstar I fucked. She was stunningly hot and massively muscular at the same time. I entered, and closed the door quickly. A massive stink greeted me... the stink of dry cum. "Fuck... did you... holy shit, you both stink of cum." "We do. But we're gonna shower quickly," said Kris, as he woke up. He, too, was naked. He looked gloriously handsome and muscular. Certainly the second biggest muscleman in the world, second only to me. His cock rivalled mine in terms of size. "Good to see you, Black Hulk." "Wow, Kris. And I swore you were gay." "I was. But have you seen Chloe? I mean, holy shit. She's, like, perfection incarnate." "She is. And, so are you, you know." I said. "All thanks to you, man. You still haven't told us how you did it." "I'll tell you today. But first, can you shower quickly? And no more sex, for now, please. Although, admittedly, you do look like a sex god and a sex goddess." "Yeah, let's shower. But we need to buy some clothes that fit us," said Chloe, as she entered the shower. Kris followed her, and they showered and rubbed each other's bodies with soap. This, of course, turned them on considerably. They started to touch each other's sexual organs. But then they decided enough was enough for that day. They turned off the shower and stepped outside, drying in the towels. "Guys, I have a problem." I confessed. "Long story short, I need to provide a urine sample by noon." "Yeah, so? We have ample time to have breakfast, go shopping for clothes, and then go to the contest by noon," said Kris while drying off his huge muscles. "You don't understand... I cannot give a urine sample!" I told them. "Uh... why not? You didn't take... drugs, didn't you?" Chloe said, as she dried her ample breasts. "So THAT's what you didn't want to tell us, huh?" "No, no, of course I didn't," I said. "You took a diuretic this morning. Right? Is that it? Honestly, these diuretics rules are bullshit," Kris mused. "It's not that, either." "Then, what is it?" they asked, together. "Because... because I haven't urinated for the past three and a half years." ---------------- Chapter 6: The Origin of Black Hulk (Three and a half years ago.) I met Chitundu a few weeks ago. He was tall and handsome, with a nice, ripped body. I was actually slightly taller, at 6'4, but I was skinny, and weighed only 155lbs. But he liked me. We were a gay couple, in a country, Kenya, where being gay is punished harshly. I've heard of a friend going to 10 years imprisonment because they caught him having sex with another man. Another gay couple were beaten to death. Indeed, that gay couple was us. We were enjoying ourselves, in a barn. After rubbing each other's bodies and turning each other on, Chitundu penetrated my ass. It felt great, being fucked by my soulmate. But then, suddenly, the barn door burst open, and four men, armed with sticks and tree branches, started beating us left right and centre. They insulted us, calling us things like 'filthy pigs', 'homos', and 'nasty animals' as we succumbed to their beatings. Soon, I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was still in the barn, covered in blood. I tried to move, but it ached horribly. They must have broken a few of my bones. I tried to see if Chitundu was there with me. Somehow, I managed to spot him. He was motionless. "Chitundu! Chitundu!" I called him, weakly. But he didn't respond. "Help! Help us! Please! We were assaulted! Help!" I tried shouting, but my voice was feeble. I was trying hard to stay conscious, but I drifted away again. When I woke up, I found myself on a bed, in a make-shift clinic. I was alone. Somebody must have found us, and took us to some kind of hospital. I had bandages all over. "Hello? Hello?" I called. Soon, a white man dressed in white overalls came in. "Oh, you're up, thank God," he said, in an American accent. "What's your name?" "Henk. I'm Henk." I answered. "Do you have family?" "No, I don't. My parents were both from Kenya, although my Dad had Dutch ancestors. My family died in the polio plague, though, a few years ago. I live with Chitundu, the other guy. Who are you?" "You're in very bad shape," he said, ignoring my question. "You've got a broken arm, a broken leg, and at least three broken ribs. You also have countless bruises and cuts, some of which are infected, and others starting to get infected. Unfortunately, I don't have the necessary tools and equipment here to mend you adequately." "Where am I? Where's Chitundu? And who are you?" I asked him. "That's not important right now. What's important is that you're safe here, for the time being. I'll soon try an experimental cure on you. It's the only way you can heal completely, but it's never been tested on anyone." "Wait, I don't want an experimental cure!" I cried. "It's either this, or you die by the end of the week," the white guy in white overalls said firmly. "Okay, okay then. Please, I don't want to die. I've only just turned 20." "If you believe in my methods, you won't die, Henk. Trust me," the white man said, smiling faintly. "Now, I'll soon administer a rectal suppository." "What's that?" "It's medicine that is administered through your rectum... your... butthole," the mysterious white man said. "This is very modern, cutting-edge technology. I travelled from America to Kenya because my studies show that Kenyans' DNA should accept this medicine better than the DNA of any other person coming from a different country." He paused, then told me, "I need you to help me turn you over." With a lot of pain and suffering, I managed to do a quarter-turn. "That's enough. Thank you, Henk," as he produced a bullet-sized device. He quickly literally shoved it in my butt. My butt muscles accepted the device, and it was inside me. Suddenly, I started spasming uncontrollably. Each spasm was really painful, due to my broken ribs. I started shouting frantically in pain. But, after a while, the pain started to subside. Eventually, after about ten minutes of spasming, the pain had disappeared completely, and the spasms soon stopped. "How do you feel now, Henk?" the white man asked. I turned around to face him. "Much better. The pain is gone completely. In fact, I think I've never felt better." "Good, Henk, I'm glad. The experimental medicine was a success. It should have mended all your broken bones, and healed you completely." I started touching my arm, my leg, my torso. No pain at all. "Wow, it must have! It just works... just like that?" "Yes, just like that. That's the miracle of science," he said, smiling. "I'll need to keep you here for some more tests, but the initial impressions look very encouraging." I suddenly remembered my friend. "Where's Chitundu?" I asked again. The man in the white overalls sighed. "I'm sorry, Henk. He's... gone." I started crying. I lost the only acquaintance I had. "I'm really sorry," the white man tried to console me. "I couldn't do anything for him. He was already dead when I found both of you." Then I felt it. A big stomach rumble. I clutched my stomach. "Do you have something to eat... uh... Doctor?" I asked, amid tears still rolling down my eyes. "I'm hungry." "Sure. In fact, I have something better," the man in the white overalls said. "I predicted that you should feel really hungry after the medicine has performed its... uhm... magic. So I'm going to give you food through a pipe from your nose to your stomach. I'll be monitoring you, don't worry." The man motioned to a large tank, which, apparently, contained food in liquid form, and drew a thin pipe out of it. I winced slightly as the pipe got through my nose, but it wasn't that bad. The man in the white overalls switched on the tank, and that was that. "I'll be in the next room. Please, for your own safety and well-being, do not leave the room. Even more importantly, under no circumstances should you remove the pipe from your nose," the mysterious man said. "Thanks, doc, for saving my life," I told him. He smiled faintly, and left. I tried to be motionless, but soon I was getting bored. Even though I was still naked, I was, at least, covered by a white bedsheet. I started feeling a bit awkward in certain positions, so I tried to shift my body to be more comfortable. After a little while longer, I was feeling... more built? My arms were not twigs anymore, but were getting a bit more manly. My pectorals weren't practically non-existent anymore, but were filling up nicely. My stomach, which was a washboard, was now getting slight hints of abdominal muscle. I was growing muscle, at a steady pace. This wasn't stopping, either. I was getting bigger and bigger. I shifted my legs a bit further away, because they were thicker and were hitting my balls. This felt really good. My arms were now quite thick, and my biceps were now much more prominent. My pectorals were big and strong. At this point, I thought I was as big as Chitundu. But my growth did not stop. Even my bedsheets now took a different shape, due to my bulging muscles beneath them. "This feels so good," I said to myself. I felt my cock getting bigger. I was getting turned on. I started to slowly stroke it, under the bedsheets. I was surprised how huge it felt. I moaned softly to myself, as my strokes became faster. All the while, my muscles were still getting bigger and bigger; I was as big as a fitness trainer now. "God, I'm gonna cum!" I murmured to myself, so turned on by my own expanding body. And cum I did. An orgasm that soaked up my bedsheets completely, that lasted at least half a minute. I must have been moaning really loudly, because, mid-way through my orgasm, the man in the white labcoat returned, alarmed. "Oh, my, you're masturbating!" he said. "That's a relief... I thought you were moaning in pain. Oh my, that's an astonishing amount of semen... I've never seen anything like that in my life. Wow." The white man's jaw dropped. Then, when my climax had finished, he said, "Let me change your bedsheets." I had, indeed, finally done blasting cum, but I was still growing muscles. I sat up on the bedside, naked, with my increasingly muscular body now plainly visible. The man in white was shocked. "What is happening here? This is an unexpected side-effect," he said, more to himself than to myself. He hurried to change my bedsheets, and I covered myself again. "Sorry I masturbated. But, my growing muscles... feel so good," I said. "Tell me, Henk, are you still hungry?" the white man asked me. "Yes. Still hungry." "Okay. Try not to masturbate until the machine finishes its job, okay?" "Okay, doc," I sheepishly said. "By the way, my name is James, and I'm actually a molecular biologist." And, he left. I was getting turned on again. But, I resisted the urge of touching my dick. My muscles were still getting bigger. My biceps now looked as big as volleyballs. Touching them, they felt amazingly powerful and hard. My pecs were like two sacks of gravel. It was like somebody was pumping them up, inflating them like balloons. Except they were hard as diamonds, not soft and squishy. My abdominals were like six... no, eight, perfectly-placed, hard bricks. My thighs were like monstrous barrels. I was wider, too, to the point that my shoulders and biceps couldn't fit under the bedsheet anymore. Finally, my hunger was abating. James, the molecular biologist, or so he claimed to be, returned. "Hello, Henk. Everything alright?" "More than alright. I feel like a god," I truthfully answered. He switched off the machine, and removed the pipe off my nose. Almost all the liquid food inside the machine was gone. I had somehow absorbed all of that food inside me, during the past hour or so. "That's it, then. Good as new. Literally," James said. "I wish I'd keep you a little more while I do a few tests on you, to see exactly what caused this... muscular side-effect, and if other side-effects manifest themselves in due time." "Sure. I don't have anywhere to go now. Might as well stay here. And I don't have any clothes, either, so it's useless to leave," I said, matter-of-factly. James not only did a few tests on me, but treated me like a son. He bought me clothes and brought me meals. Another side-effect he noticed was that I never urinated or defecated anymore. It seemed like any food and drink intake was being completely used to sustain my body, to grow bigger muscles and to produce sperm - a lot of sperm, for that matter. He also noticed that I did not have a single hair below my neck. Looking at my skin under a microscope, he noticed that I had no hair follicles at all, from my neck downwards. His medicine must be completely focused on improving my body all the time, and it had no reasons to produce by-products like body hair and feces, he theorized. Once he was finished with his experiments, he proposed that I fly to America with him. Since I had no family in Kenya, I gladly accepted. My passport and visa took a little while to be issued, but, finally, me and James were in America. I started working in construction. My workmates were astonished by my strength and muscles. I could lift stuff with one arm that required the strength of two men. One of my workmates, Steve, was gay. He once literally threw himself on my body while I was showering. I fucked him and came all over his body. That was the first time I was the one doing the fucking, rather than being on the receiving end of a fuck. It felt so good. Steve loved it, too; he told me he was never so turned on in his life. This 'love affair' continued for a little while. After earning a bit of money, I could afford living in an apartment alone. It was hard leaving James, after what he has done to me. James understood, but asked to keep in touch. I agreed. People stared at me wherever I went. Once, a lady stopped me while walking outside my apartment, and asked me where I worked out. I told her that I didn't. "Jesus, you've got crazy genetics, honey. You should become a pro bodybuilder!" she suggested. "Bodybuilder? What's that?" I asked, curiously. The lady was surprised. Then she told me, "Google it, honey. You'll know." A minute later, she was inside my apartment, and I was fucking her senseless. She orgasmed several times, and I erupted my dick's contents all over her naked, curvy body. It was at this point that I realized that I was not necessarily gay, but that women turned me on, too. Especially women who literally drooled over my incredible, mountainous, enormously muscular black body. I did follow her suggestion. Pictures of men and women with huge muscles emerged off Google. But none had muscles bigger than mine. I dwarfed even the biggest, most muscular bodybuilder. I learnt that there were contests for bodybuilders. The most prestigious one was called 'Mr. Olympia'. I decided to take part. The IFBB were shocked by my size, so they decided to throw me in as a wildcard. Guess what: I won the contest, beating 9-time Mr. Olympia Phil Heath comprehensively, coming literally from nowhere. People started calling me 'Black Hulk', and it stuck. I became an overnight sensation. I did magazine photo shoots, interviews, documentaries... the list goes on and on. I even starred in a movie cameo. People couldn't get enough of my size. They couldn't believe that I was a 6'4, 380lbs supermuscular man with only 4% bodyfat. Men and women, young and old; everyone wanted to know about me, or drool over my hypermuscular body, or both. The photo shoots exposed something else about me: my dick, apparently, was much bigger than average. This prompted some porn houses to call me, asking if I would consider being a pornstar. I told them I'd do it, for the right price. And so my first porn movie was born, where I fucked this woman with an outrageously big, but fake, ass, called Lela Star. The camerapersons were astonished at my stamina, and how my cock stayed hard throughout the whole shoot, without me needing to take breaks or taking substances to keep my penis hard. Lela Star later confessed with me that it was the first time that she orgasmed for real, on set. I took that as a big compliment. Two hours after the porn flick shoot, I was fucking her again, in her house. My sexual stamina was insatiable; I could perform amazing sex after only half an hour of having my cum erupting from my huge dick. After the success of my first porn movie, more and more porn producers asked for my services, including gay companies. I accepted the gay porn acts too, automatically revealing to the world that I was bisexual. The IFBB called me after this, telling me that my bisexual lifestyle was 'damaging their reputation'. I told them, with contempt and disgust, that, apparently, the fact that Mr. Olympia is a pornstar does not damage the IFBB's reputation, but the fact that Mr. Olympia fucks other men does. Year after year, I continued to grow bigger muscles, albeit at a slower pace. On average, I was gaining 20lbs of muscle every year. And in 2023, as a 6'4, 440lbs ultramuscular bodybuilder, I walked in this hotel to participate in my fourth Mr. Olympia contest. * * * I ended up withdrawing from the contest, and resigning from the IFBB as a professional bodybuilder with immediate effect. That was the first thing that Chloe had to do as my spokesperson: announcing that I was not going to produce a urine sample and withdrawing from the contest, citing lack of transparency in doping tests. As a former journalist, she knew what kind of questions journalists ask, and she handled the press brilliantly. I was enormously proud of her. Although maybe, some of the journalists could have also been a little intimidated by this muscular spokeswoman... An uproar ensued, with people furious about having bought tickets for the Mr. O. to see me in action, only to see me announce my withdrawal. Most of them blamed the IFBB for their hypocritical way in which they do doping tests. In order to calm down the situation, I suggested that I could do a free posing routine after all the contestants do theirs, a routine which did not have anything to do with the contest; it was just a bit of entertainment for the public. The IFBB liked this idea, and, after negotiating the right price, I agreed to do it. I got Kris with me, backstage, of course, to 'rub oil' on my massive, bulging, huge muscles. Kris wasn't out of place among these contestants at all; he was easily as big as the biggest Mr. O. contestant there. Mamdouh Elssbiay, who most people called 'Big Ramy', came over and expressed sadness at what happened to me. He also congratulated Kris on his physique. I sincerely wished him all the best during the contest. "You know," he told me, "thanks to your withdrawal, I'm really in with a shot this year. But I'm not sure if I'll win it next year, if Kris here decides to participate." Long story short, Big Ramy did end up winning that Mr. Olympia contest for the first time. In so doing, the Mr. Olympia trophy was transferred from an African man to another African. But the plaudits went for me. The audience erupted in applause when I set foot on stage, and shouted 'Black Hulk, Black Hulk' repeatedly in support. Chloe suggested to wear my posing pants a little lower than usual, to reveal juuuuust a little cock, to spite the IFBB. After all, I was doing this just for fun, not to compete. The audience loved it. I wowed them with my physique as much as I could. As I was leaving the stage, the audience erupted and wanted more. I got back to the stage and did my customary bicep pose where my bicep inflates bigger and bigger and BIGGER. Some of the audience audibly gasped at the impossible size of my flexed bicep. Then I left the stage, this time for good. When I returned to the hotel, I was informed that the security cameras on the fourth floor detected a person of my size ripping off the door of room number 427... ---------------- Epilogue It's been four years since that Mr. Olympia contest; since Kris and Chloe received 'the gift', as we started calling it. I grew even bigger since then. Still at 6'4, I now weigh 500lbs of solid, massive, freaky, black muscle beef. I settled down with Chloe and Kris, and we three live together in my apartment. They are both incredible human specimens in their own right, not just physically, but also emotionally and, why not, sexually too. So I thought, why not? My job is now full time as a porn actor, sometimes even shooting 'amateur' footage with Kris, Chloe, or both. Life is good. Kris is now a superhuman god of muscle development. Incredibly, even though he's only 5'9, which is more than half a foot less than I'm tall, he weighs a scale-crushing 510lbs of incomprehensible slabs of immense muscle - 10lbs MORE than I do. His secret? Well, he still eats well and goes to the gym regularly - unlike me. His muscle development is really insane. The Internet calls him 'Blond Hulk', and I find it quite appropriate. Due to how much shorter Blond Hulk is than I am, his muscles appear much, much bigger than mine. Of course, sex with him is as insanely hot as his muscles, if not more. Recently, he fucked me, rather than vice-versa, and then I fucked him back. It's good to finally have someone with the necessary muscle to fuck Black Hulk; I kinda missed the feeling of being fucked from behind. Kris never competed as a professional bodybuilder, partly because the IFBB dissolved itself a year ago. More on that later. Chloe is also an incredible muscle specimen. She now weighs 225lbs, which, on her 5'7 frame, is really quite a sight to behold. Her muscles are really dense - probably denser than mine or Kris'. She's still got two magnificent orbs of breastflesh jutting out of her pecs, and her biologically impossible hourglass figure is still definitely eye-turning. She's still my spokesperson - now for my porn endeavours, though. People call her 'Curvy She-Hulk' online... I kinda like it! Of course, our lives does not revolve solely into having just us three as sex partners, fucking each other. Part of why we're in this porn business is our extremely sexual lifestyle. We cannot do otherwise; 'the gift' forces us to have frequent sex, or, at the very least, masturbate often. When Kris, Chloe or I go out to eat alone, or go to buy some new clothes, or whatever, it's not unusual that one of us picks some hot guy or girl and give him or her a bit of sexual bliss. If we really like the person, Kris or I ensure that we orgasm inside their pussy, or butthole, thus giving that person 'the gift', slowly turning them into a veritable god or goddess - just like I did to Kris and Chloe four years ago. Interestingly, we recently discovered that Chloe can also give 'the gift' to her sexual partners. It turns out that her ample breasts ooze out a liquid when she's sexually excited, which, when drunk by a person in the right amounts, gives 'the gift' to that person. This allows Chloe, like us, to give 'the gift' to both sexes. We three are, of course, all bisexual. Indeed, that's one other side-effect of 'the gift', we learned - it turns that person bisexual, no matter what sexual orientation he or she leaned to prior to receiving 'it'. Slowly, 'the gift' started to become more widespread. People receiving 'the gift' - which we started calling 'gifters' - of course, fucked other people, due to their heightened sexual desires, spreading 'the gift' like wildfire. Many people, males and females, started becoming hugely muscular humans literally overnight. The professional bodybuilders training night and day in the gym simply couldn't compete anymore. This prompted the IFBB to dissolve bodybuilding as a sport for good. Moreover, the ideal female body perceived by the world at large slowly started shifting to the one that Chloe, and all female 'gifters', possessed. And James? We did decide to meet James, to ask him to study the process of how 'the gift' works. While doing so, James became totally obsessed with Chloe's incredible beauty, and - long story short - he received 'the gift' himself from her. One aspect of 'the gift' that was puzzling James was pregnancy - or lack of. The amount of semen produced by male 'gifters' was about 10 times as much as normal males did, and female 'gifters' had the perfect, ideal vaginal shape to accommodate these males. Moreover, the sperm count of male 'gifters' was astonishingly high, at around 800 to 1000 million sperms per millilitre, with close to 100% rapid progressive sperm motility. Female 'gifters', on the other hand, ovulated more frequently than non-'gifters', and did not have periods. In spite of all this, it seemed like male 'gifters' were incapable of impregnating female 'gifters' at all. After studying this anomaly for long, James finally managed to crack this mystery too. Incredibly, male 'gifters' couldn't impregnate female 'gifters' alone; there needed to be the semen of TWO different male 'gifters' in the vagina of a female 'gifter' for pregnancy to happen. This was confirmed to be true when me and Kris impregnated Chloe the same night that James made this discovery. Our family is expecting our first child; the first child in the entire world that will have two Dads and one Mum. Will we tell the story of our child, and of our future children, in the future? Who knows... time will tell. THE END