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Found 168 results

  1. mfergie15

    Houston

    First time posting and first story. Hope people like it. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Houston, Part 1 My name is Trevor and growing up I was a larger guy. Now, I am 24 years old, 6 feet tall, and 280 pounds of mostly fat and some muscle. My family didn’t accept me being gay so I packed the essentials into my car and took off. I ended up in Northern Texas in one of those towns that is small, as in everyone knew each other, but large enough to have some bigger chain stores. I found a cheap apartment and got a job as a cashier at the locally-owned supermarket. Despite feeling inadequate, since I had a bachelor’s degree, I gladly accepted the money that the job provided. On my second day of work and my fifth day in town, I met someone that would change my life. —— At the check-out line, I have a good view of every patron entering and exiting the store. At about 10 in the morning, a man walked in. He was about my height and looked like he was in his late 40s, but he was probably 260 pounds of muscle and about my height. He was a solid wall and he was wearing a tank top that showed his hairy, massive pecs and huge biceps. Very good looking. He was followed by an even bigger, better looking, and younger man. Guessing, the younger man was about 26 or 27 years old. They looked like a father-son duo coming in for their weekly food supply. The son was absolutely stunning. He was about 6 inches taller than his dad and I; probably had about 30 pounds on his dad, all muscle. He was wearing a similar tank top but instead of jeans, he was wearing basketball shorts. He had a sprinkling of red hair across his chest and in his pits that matched the hair on his head. As he and his dad walked through the store, I tried my best not to appear that I was staring and the younger muscle stud’s huge biceps, jutting pecs and ass, and noticeable bulge in the crotch. The stud had amazingly sexy bluish-green eyes and brownish-red hair. They spent about 30 minutes going through the aisles. As I was checking out an older lady who insisted on paying the exact change, the duo got in my check-out line. The father was looking through the cart and it appeared they forgot something; he left to go find it and as I was still helping the old lady, I was blinded. Blinded by the stud stretching his arms up over his head and his shirt riding so high up, I saw his furry 6 pack of abs and his defined obliques; I even saw some pubes sticking out of his waistband. I popped an erection right there. I looked away to finish assisting my current customer. However, when I next looked over at him, he was staring at me with a cocky grin. He stepped up to the register as I began ringing up his items and started up a conversation with me. “You’re new in town. What’s your name?” “Trevor.” “Well, Trevor. My name is Houston and,” the older man walked up and joined him on the other side of the register, “this is my dad, Ian.” Staring at the two of them, I couldn’t help but focus on their nipples. Ian’s were pushing against the thin fabric of his tank and Houston’s were hard and exposed, almost staring at me. I almost dropped the milk carton by missing the counter because I was so distracted. Ian continued their introduction. “Nice to meet you. I own the gym in town and we live behind it in the small house. We come in about 3 times a week, so we will be getting to know each other.” He paid with a debit card and started loading the bags into his cart. As he was loading, Houston pulled out a business card and wrote something on the back. “Here is the business card for the gym. I work as a personal trainer, so come by if you want to get in shape.” In a whisper, “my cell number is on the back if you want to hang out sometime.” —— That weekend on my day off, I walked over to the gym. Upon walking in, the receptionist greeted me, but Houston came over before the guy could say much more. Houston looked amazing. He had a light sweat and I could smell a musky odor emanating from his body. He was wearing a tight black tank top with the gym logo on the back and black leggings. Houston’s pecs were very prominent and I could see his 6 pack through the shirt. His ass was very perky and round and hot and his thick quads pushed the bulge in his leggings forward. Houston asked if he could show me around; I agreed. He pointed out the cardio room and the weights room. He showed me the steam room, the locker room, and the showers. He showed me Ian’s office. Moved to another room then spoke in a whisper again. “This room is not well known. My dad built it for his bodybuilding days and you are the fifth person that has been shown the posing room.” The posing room was completely mirrored, had hardwood floor and one wall had sofas and bean bags and some ottomans. Houston dropped into one of the large sofas and motioned for me to join him. He pulled out a laptop. And started asking me some questions. “What is your ideal body? Like what is your ultimate goal for working out here?” “I want to be big. I want to be pro bodybuilder size, like bigger than you.” “Okay. Dream big and I believe I can help you as your trainer. So what is your weight goal?” “I am around 280 lbs right now. But it is mostly fat. So my goal is to be about 300 to 320 lbs of muscle with low body fat.” “Wow. So this will be a major lifestyle change for you, which I can also help with.” Houston kept taking notes. “We will need to take body measurements and before photos for motivation and progress tracking. Any questions for me.” I asked the two questions on my mind. “Will you show me how to pose and what is the cost?” Houston chuckled. “Well, for the cost, I will train you and give you guidance for free if you pay for your food and supplements and if you come in during any days off, including half days. As for the posing, I can give you a preview now and I can work with you in terms of posing as part of the training.” While Houston got off the couch, he pulled his shirt off and dropped it where he was sitting. As he walked away from me, I admired the details in his back, the span of his lats, and the sprinkle of hair on his shoulders and upper back. He took his shoes off and started to explain that there were 8 classic poses. “The first pose is, what I believe to be, the most popular. Front double biceps.” Houston had turned around and flexed both of his arms. I hid the hard-on that popped up but couldn’t stop staring. Houston had a nice layer of hair on his pecs and abs and well-maintained bushes in his pits. His biceps were large and his nipples were large and erect. I thought it was cute that he had the signature “outie” belly button. Houston continued with the posing; hitting the Front Lat Spread and the Side Chest. My dick just ached more and more, watching him pose was my fantasy come true. I thought I couldn’t get more turned on, but then Houston peeled off his leggings. He had a jockstrap on underneath. He hit the Side Triceps, then turned around and hit the Back Double Biceps and Back Lat Spread, calling out each pose as he hit it. Like I said, I felt like I could cum at any moment. Houston’s ass was as delicious as I imagined. It had a light coat of hair and was framed well in his jockstraps. I couldn’t get over the definition and size of his quads and hams and calves, also covered in hair. He announced the last two poses he would do: the Front Abdominal-Thigh and the Most Muscular. As he turned around, I was shocked by the size of his hard cock. The head was poking out of the top of his jockstrap and looked like it almost came up to his outie. The arch of his cock pushed the fabric away enough to see his red pubes, even more than what I saw in the grocery store. He kept the forest trimmed well enough. He finished the Most Muscular and chuckled. “It’s been awhile since I made myself hard posing. I apologize.” I barely got out, “No prob.” “You mind if I take care of it here?” “No.” Houston sat back down next to me, pulled off his jockstrap, and started to rub one out. “You can join me if you would like.” I was already hard and felt a little self-conscious, but I pulled my very average 5 inch dick out and started to rub one out as well. As I got close to cumming, I found enough courage to ask him the question. “How big?” His responded in two ways. “This morning I weighed in at 285 pounds and my dick is 8.5 inches long and 2 inches wide.” At those numbers, I came the most I ever had all over myself. This was also the first time I ever came in front of another person. I got cum all over my shirt. Houston noticed that I was finished and did, in my mind, the unbelievable. He forced the back of my head down to his crotch with his large might hand. I opened up and sucked his cock. He worked my head up and down. On the third push down, I took his whole cock with barely a gag. His pubes smelt sweaty and amazing. We went another couple of minutes before I heard him starting to gasp. The next thing I know, I felt a hot, sweet taste in my throat. I swallowed his entire load. As we cleaned up, Houston passed me a tee and struck up another conversation. “So, as an FYI, I am gay and this wasn’t some fling between us or me using you. I purposely stretched so that you would see my abs in the store that day. I thought you were cute.” I was speechless, with the whole jaw hanging open and everything. This big guy was into me. He continued on. “Well, I will still train you and if you want to be 315 pounds of muscle then I will get you there. And I think it will be a lot of fun to tumble in bed with a cute bodybuilder.” Finally, I found some words. “I never actually admitted to anyone that I am gay, my family found porn on my computer and threw me out. And you are the first guy I have done anything with. I must be dreaming.” “No dream. Just you and me in the posing room. I will talk to your boss and see about cutting your hours back so you can train more.” “Well, okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Houston came up and pecked my left cheek with a kiss and replied “Tomorrow for sure.” I walked home and showered off. I did some sit-ups and push-ups, had dinner, then watched some TV till around 8pm. I stripped off, climbed in bed and jacked off to my mental snapshots of Houston, his muscles, and his cock.
  2. TWINK NUMBER TWELVE (or “FUCK ZOMBIES -- THE SERIES”) (A Later Chapter from the “Saul Bennett” Saga) By absman420 (AUTHOR’S NOTE: After reading Tattcub’s awesome contribution my “Saul Bennett” universe, I decided I wanted to play with a chapter myself. So, yes, this is a sequel to “Why You Shouldn’t Trust Saul Bennett”, but not a direct sequel -- it would come somewhat later, near the denouement of the series. And it doesn’t end the saga, either. Ha! But it should give you some idea of what I was intending to do with the overall plot.. (Thanks, tattcub, for re-inspiring me.) ************ They wanted to film a test scene -- that’s all Mikey knew as he walked into the studio -- but he had attitude, anyway. They were making him audition, like he was just some kid looking for work, not an established name at a major studio. He’d heard rumors that the producer guy, this Saul Bennett he was meeting today, was kind of an asshole. But he was big in the industry -- really big -- he could make or break a guy’s career. And MIkey was kind of hoping for “make” -- he’d suck anybody’s cock for the right incentive. And Mikey was a VERY talented bottom boy. Youth and flexibility -- and a seemingly insatiable sexual appetite -- kept the public interested. No matter who was fucking him, not matter what the scene, no matter the budget, Mikey looked like he loved it. And in fact, he really did. He got to fuck for hours on end with these amazingly hot guys in front of an audience -- nothing could be more tailor-made. Right before he got out of his car, he did a little bump of tina -- it helped him relax and ride the ride -- he had a whole little system of bathroom breaks worked out to keep his buzz fresh when shooting. He kept a supply in his makeup kit. The offices were on the ground level and the studio was in the basement -- so they could control light and noise more easily, Mikey guessed. He quickly crossed the parking lot and entered the building, thinking to himself how empty and deserted the area was -- an anomaly in Southern California -- but porn studios had to exist where they could afford to, he supposed, usually on the outskirts of society. Mikey entered the reception area and found it empty, though the lights were on and the background music was lightly playing -- it appeared as if the receptionist had just stepped out for a second. On the other hand, Mikey thought, it WAS a Saturday -- maybe there was no weekend receptionist? The receptionist’s desk was completely clean but for one manilla envelope that had Mikey’s name written on it in marker. He dropped his backpack the floor and opened the envelope -- a handwritten note paperclipped to a form. “MIKEY --” the note read, “WE ARE DOWNSTAIRS IN PRODUCTION. PLEASE SIGN THE ATTACHED RELEASE AND JOIN US ON SET AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. THANKS, SAUL BENNETT” A standard release form with the title “FUCK ZOMBIES -- The Series” across the top. “Zombie Porn?” Mikey thought, rolling his eyes. “What next…?” Giggling to himself, he quickly signed the form, assuming it was like all the others he’d signed through the years. He wasn’t sure whether to leave it on the desk or take it with him to give to them on set, but he quickly decided on the latter and stuffed it into his backpack. He didn’t see the small digital camera mounted on the wall behind the desk that emotionlessly recorded his signing the form, stuffing it into his backpack and exiting the office. He didn’t see the camera in the hallway that followed his progress to the staircase leading downstairs to the studio, either. More, he didn’t realize the staircase door locked behind him as he went through. Mikey had no idea that he was already in the movie. ********** There was nothing to tell him he shouldn’t -- no production light, no sign -- so Mikey pushed the door open and stepped inside, hearing the swoosh and click of the door closing behind him. It was a big space -- bigger than anything Mikey had ever worked in -- easily a thousand square feet, each corner with a separate set (except the corner he was standing in, that just had production equipment, cameras and cables and boxes) -- great porn backgrounds. But empty -- not a soul on set, although lit like they were filming -- it’s like everybody took a smoke break at the same time. The place stank of new sex and old sweat. “Hello?” Mikey tentatively called, his voice echoing through the space as he looked around more carefully. In the far left corner was a locker room set, replete with a row of metal lockers, a tiled shower area, a urinal and a wooden bench. The far right corner, another set, a wrestling mat with a giant scoreboard on the wall behind it, another bench and a banner reading “PRIAPUS U” in collegiate font. And before him was the gym set, a squat rack, a cable crossover, big mirrors on the wall for the Priapus Tops to flex for themselves, and a bench press, partially obscured in Mikey’s sightline. But then he heard somebody move, as if coming to awareness themselves. “Hello?” Mikey called, taking a few steps forward. Again, another moan -- and then Mikey could see. There was a guy tied to the bench press! “What the fuck…?” Mikey said under his breath as he quickened his pace. Okay, it’s a porn set, and the guy was tied to the bench with those rubber warm-up bands that bodybuilders use to pump up with, but still… The guy was face down on the bench, his hips straddling the end, so that he wasn’t quite able to kneel on the floor -- his arms tied to the opposite end with the rubber bands, so he couldn’t get up either. He wore the remains of a jockstrap and athletic socks pulled to the knee -- from the looks of it, his hole had been worked hard -- there was clearly the remains of sex leaking from him. From the sounds he made on Mikey’s approach, he was clearly gagged, too. Nicely built guy, lean, swimmer’s bod -- oddly, there was something familiar about him. It wasn’t until Mikey saw him from the front that he recognized the poor gagged boy. “BUNNY?!?” he nearly screamed, kneeling to pull the gag off. (The gag was a jockstrap tied round Bunny’s head, holding another jockstrap that had been stuffed in his mouth -- both used.) “What the fuck…? What’s going on?” Bunny was talking before the jockstrap was completely out. “You gotta get out of here!” he squealed in his bass-less tenor. “Hurry! Before he comes back! It’s not a movie, Mikey! It’s not a fucking movie!” Mikey frantically untied the rubber straps, trying desperately to free his friend. “Hold on,” he whispered. “Almost got it….” And then he did! “There!” Bunny was nearly crying, trying to sit up on the bench -- Mikey had seen Bunny naked a million times, but he’d never noticed fey little Bunny being in this kind of shape -- he looked like a swimmer, not a twink. Bunny must be off the meth. “He just kept fucking me and fucking me. He was fucking relentless!” Mikey sat next to him and held him as he regained his strength. “What happened, Bunny?” he tried to say calmly. “What’s going on?” The tears started to flow. “I thought it was a movie,” he sobbed. “Just a scene -- but with Mick Masterman! A fucking legend! Who wouldn’t do that?” “Mick Masterman? That limp-dicked old has-been…?” “NO!” Bunny yelled, suddenly agitated again -- scared. “He was on something! He was fucking HUGE, like some over-roided bodybuilder, hairy… crazy! Like, roid-rage crazy! And his cock -- that gigantic cock... he just. Kept. Fucking!” Sobbing again, Bunny buried his head in Mikey’s neck. Mikey tried to comfort him, reaching around his friend’s well-defined upper back (since when did Bunny have such a nice build?), but in fact, his only real thought was escape. Escape and sort it out later. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. But they weren’t able to leave -- the door was locked. It must’ve locked behind him as Mikey had entered. Fuck. He banged against the handle a few times, to no avail -- it was locked. Fuck. His cell phone! He tapped his pockets -- it was in his backpack! He’d put it on airplane mode and slipped it into his pack so it wouldn’t interfere with filming. He’d dropped his backpack by the camera when he first saw Bunny. There! Mikey squatted down and dug the phone out -- no signal, of course. They were in a basement -- when he heard Bunny say, “Do I look bigger to you?” Mikey looked up to see Bunny looking at himself in the mirrors of the gym set. “What?” “I’m bigger,” Bunny said, caught somewhere between joy and horror as he timidly flexed. “What’s happening to me?” Mikey wanted to remain calm -- he wanted to be the strong one, the leader -- but he really wasn’t that Alpha-type. Worse, he was still under Tina’s influence. Still, points to Mikey for trying so hard. “We gotta get out of here,” he said, as he approached Bunny. “C’mon… we’ll figure it out later.” “What if what they’d done to that guy Masterman was, like, something you could CATCH? Like an STD?” “Bunny, that’s fucking crazy,” Mikey said, putting his arm around Bunny’s shoulders and trying to lead the muscular twink toward the door. “It’s the lights, or the mirrors, or something -- we’ll figure it out later.” But Bunny shook him off, keeping his focus on his reflection. “But you should’ve seen that guy, Mikey. He was huge -- like the Hulk huge. And he just kept fucking me with that huge cock…” Mikey suddenly noticed Bunny’s cock, barely held by the tattered jockstrap he’d been raped in -- Bunny’s cock was getting hard. “I’m getting bigger, Mikey. Like, I’m a regular GYM-Bunny now!” He put his hands behind his head and flexed his abs, smirking. “Look at that!” he said, more to himself than Mikey. “This is crazy…” “Bunny....” “It’s okay, Mikey,” he said -- double biceps -- “I feel okay. Better than okay.” His cock WAS getting harder. “Bunny, five minutes ago you were tied to a bench press being raped -- you’re NOT okay.” Bunny flexed his impressive pecs, lost in his own reflection. “Yeah, he fucked me pretty good,” Bunny said, adjusting his growing cock absently. Once he touched it, though, it got his attention. “Holy fuck,” he said. “My cock, too! My fucking COCK is bigger!” “Bunny…” “No, seriously, dude! My cock is bigger. I don’t know what they did to me -- but I’m getting muscles and I’m fuckin’ horny as hell at the same time! This is fuckin’ crazy! LOOK AT ME!!!” He was bigger now -- there was no question about it. Bunny was literally growing before their eyes. What the fuck was going on? Impossible… Mikey was starting to panic, hyperventilate. All he could think about was escape. Running back to the door, he slammed his weight against it -- all 145 pounds -- not that it did much good. It wasn’t budging. He looked back at Bunny, who was openly masturbating while looking at himself in the mirror, a smile on his face, running his hand over his significant cock, while the other hand caressed his rock hard abs.. “Fuck!” Mikey swore. “Fuck… THINK! There’s gotta be a way out of here! Bunny, is there any other way out of here?” “That’s a fuckin’ TOP’S cock, isn’t it?” Bunny asked, his voice gaining a kind of an edge, a kind of roughness, a deepness it hadn’t had before. In the locker room set, there was a door with “Coach’s Office” stenciled on its frosted window -- maybe that led somewhere. Desperately, Mikey ran to it and ripped it open, only to discover it was a prop door that led nowhere. Mikey was beginning to seriously panic. “How come we never fucked, Mikey?” Bunny asked, turning away from the mirror in the gym set and slowly strolling toward Mikey in the locker room portion of the set -- not casually, more like he was stalking his prey. He still had the jock on, but his cock was throbbing out the top band, SIGNIFICANTLY bigger than Mikey had remembered it, even the few times Mikey had seen Bunny hard. It leaked precum. “Cause we’re friends, Bunny,” Mikey said, his voice quivering even as he tried to remain calm. Trying to joke, he added, “And we’re both bottoms…” “Maybe…” Bunny said, stroking his big cock without breaking eye-contact with Mikey, “...but who could be a bottom with a cock like this?” Mikey kept backing away, until he was against the lockers. “C’mon, Bunny… stop…” Bunny snorted, coming right up into Mikey, putting his very muscular arms on either side of him, trapping him. “Why, Mikey?” he growled. “You came here to make a movie -- let’s make a movie!” Mikey pushed against Bunny’s meaty pectorals, unable to move the growing beast. Bunny easily shoved him against the lockers, laughing while he did it. “Stop…” Mikey whined, nearly in tears. As Bunny tried to kiss him, Mikey turned his head away and said, “No!” Bunny was enraged. “Fuck you!” he roared, slapping Mikey across the face. Before MIkey could react, Bunny grabbed his jaw and forced Mikey into a kiss. Mikey could feel Bunny pressing into him, feel Bunny’s rock hard cock against his abs as Bunny’s tongue invaded his mouth. Still, he struggled. He struggled like the caught prey he was. “Yeah, fight,” Bunny growled. “Fuckin’ hot...” Without any real effort, Bunny’s ever-growing strength forced Mikey down over the locker room bench, easily dominating him, knocking the wind out of him slightly. Bent over the side, Bunny was on him in a flash, ready to mount him. Tearing Mikey’s joggers off, Bunny exposed Mikey’s pert little ass, framed in the little neon-colored jockstrap he wore. “Fuck…” Bunny mumbled, his voice deeper along with his new size, gravelly. Mikey tried to escape, but Bunny easily held him down with one massive arm -- then Mikey felt Bunny’s cock press against his hole. “NO!” Mikey screamed, finding his breath. “Stop! Please… BUNNY!” But Bunny slathered his dick in spit and pre, and pressed right on in. Now, Mikey was a talented bottom, but even he needed a warm-up before taking something this large -- and even then, willingly. He tried to breathe. “Tight...” Bunny grumbled, pushing more in. Mikey had done a scene once with a Brazilian guy who was over eleven-and-a-half inches, and it took most of the morning (and most of his poppers) before Mikey could completely take the guy. But that guy had been a good top -- he knew what his dick could do to people -- he spent a LOT of time on foreplay, preparing his target, teasing his way inside. This rabid Bunny just forced his way in. Bunny had clearly never fucked a guy before -- he was like a young buck mating for the first time -- he didn’t know what to do with his dick. His thrusts were uneven and arhythmic, forceful and blunt -- a desperate and angry fuck. He was getting off on his own power, his own growth -- Mikey just happened to be the hole he was inside. Mikey struggled, of course, not that it did much good. As Bunny got bigger and bigger, his strength increased, too. He was so deep inside Mikey, he nearly crushed his prostate. Mikey didn’t want to enjoy it, but he’d never taken anything like this before -- he’d have liked to been a lot higher. His ass was so full… And suddenly, the assault increasing as Bunny neared orgasm. Mikey realized his own cock was rock hard -- why? -- just as Bunny exploded into him, causing Mikey to orgasm himself. He’d never felt anything so unexpected and intense. They both screamed. Bunny didn’t stop fucking, but the thrusts slowed down as he dumped more and more cum into Mikey’s hole. It didn’t leak out -- it was like it was filling him and the root of Bunny’s cock was a plug. When Bunny did finally pull out -- pulling out a cock significantly bigger than the one that had gone in -- Mikey was finally able to get a good look at him. His cock wasn’t the only thing that had grown while he’d been inside Mikey. Skinny twink Bunny was now a bodybuilder, a gym-junkie, a swollen muscle-head overdosing on testosterone. Except his body was making the testosterone -- his body was overdosing on itself. Mikey was no stranger to the gym -- he’d seen those apes. He’d even seen them naked, with their shriveled balls and tiny dicks. But not Bunny. Bunny was like one of those Tom-of-Finland pics come to life, overly muscular and impossibly overhung. Except with crazy eyes. Bunny looked at Mikey, his eyes glazed and unfocused, and flexed a Most-Muscular, roaring. “Fuck!” he yelled, spit flicking from his mouth. “Gotta fuck!” His cock was just as rock-hard as it had been before, if not bigger. Mikey tried to scramble away, but the big beast kept forcing him back. Suddenly, Mikey’s leg was free, so he kicked Bunny square in those ponderous balls, which at least made the guy release him. Bunny stood up straight and grabbed himself, yelping in pain. Mikey wanted to run, but there was nowhere to run. And even as deft as Mikey was, he was nothing compared to his overly-muscled pursuer. Mikey had barely made it to the wrestling area on the other side of the set when he felt Bunny tackle him roughly to the mat, Bunny’s solid shaft against his leg -- Mikey could feel the heat of it. Bunny was humping his leg like a dog in heat, desperate to find a way back into Mikey’s hole, but seemingly too stupid to know where it was. Cum and sweat and spit -- Mikey could taste it in the air -- he’d wrestled in high school for a season, so he knew a little something about rolling with his weight, gaining the advantage. He felt oddly strong rolling on top of the humping Bunny, a strange mix of masculine and powerful. After being raped by this guy, he didn’t feel the slightest bit intimidated by his size or his strength. He was too angry -- to be honest, he felt a little turned on. The more he wrestled with Bunny, the easier it became to control him. He struggled, but Mikey moved him from hold to hold -- whenever Bunny out-muscled one, Mikey was ready with the next. And Bunny seemed to get weaker and weaker, or at least, easier to counter. Mikey felt absurdly strong, powerful, his rage and desperation growing too. Fuck, he was horny. Dominate this fucker, he thought to himself. Fucking take his hole the way he took mine. Hard! Fucking make this fucker my bitch. Show him! “C’mon,” he growled, “let’s make a movie…” And Bunny struggled beneath him, but fuck him, he deserved to be fucked! Mikey’s horny, hard cock slammed into Bunny’s unprepared hole. Bunny screamed -- a masculine, deep-throated “No!” but Mikey was beyond thinking. All he wanted to do was dominate this bitch. He was so strong -- and when he saw himself in the wall mirror, he knew why. He was gigantic, muscular, powerful. What the actual fuck…? He flexed for himself as he fucked Bunny, losing himself in the masculine necessity of dominance and power. He grew. He grew like Bunny grew, muscular and over-hung. And when he finally came, he stopped thinking altogether. After that, it was just two over-hung, hairy muscle-beasts fighting and fucking, each trying to get on top of the other, each trying to score the other’s hole. When they started damaging equipment, apparently, that was enough. Small nodules in the ceiling -- that looked like a regular sprinkler system -- released a colorless/ odorless gas that seemed only to slow them down at first, until they ultimately collapsed, thrusting their hips even into unconsciousness. Less than a minute later, four men in hazmat suits entered through the double doors -- they were armed with tasers, and even though unnecessary here, they still took their precautions -- bringing two gurneys. Carefully, they loaded the things that had been Mikey and Bunny each onto a gurney and rolled them out -- one of the techs wisely grabbed Mikey’s backpack and loaded it onto the lower shelf of his transport. A few minutes after that, a cleaning team entered the set and began spraying it down, the smell of ammonia filling the air. ******************** Safely in his office some two floors away, Saul Bennett turned off the monitor where he’d been watching the scene play out. They’d gotten some good raw footage out of it -- the hidden cameras had captured two transformations, that wrestling sequence, nearly an hour of straight-up fucking, and even some believable dialogue with REAL emotion behind it! Even Saul Bennett appreciated the irony in that. FUCK ZOMBIES -- The Series was gonna be his biggest money-maker ever! His reverie was broken by the uncomfortable, impatient movement from the little bodybuilder who sat in the seat across from him -- he’d been tapping his foot throughout the entire sequence. “Something on your mind, Tino?” “That’s twelve,” the little guy said -- right to business. “You said after a dozen you’d release him.” Bennett nodded, taking a sip from the coffee cup on his desk. “That’s true,” he murmured, a slight smile on the corner of his mouth. “Well, that was Twink number twelve,” Tino said. “There’s your dozen. You said after twelve guys, you’d… let my husband out of his contract.” Bennett chuckled. “Of course, Tino. You’ve been very patient with me.” He paused for a second, and just as Tino was about to jump in, Bennett continued. “One final indulgence, though, if you don’t mind… the last scene. I need him for the orgy, Tino. What’s a porn movie without an Orgy for a finale? And what’s an orgy without the star of the show, Mick Masterman?” Tino sighed dramatically. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he said. “Are you kidding me? A zombie orgy scene? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bennett just sat there at his desk, fiddling with an unlit cigarette, imagining the possibilities, waiting for the little bodybuilder to make the final connection. So Tino continued. “And just who are they gonna fuck? Anyone who gets their cum in them ends up one of them. Then they’re just gonna destroy everything as they fight to see who fucks who. Sounds more like Pro Wrestling Summer Slam than a porn movie.” Bennett lit his cigarette and took his first drag before he responded. “Unless the bottom was somehow… IMMUNE to the effects of the ‘zombie virus’...” He made eye-contact with the little bodybuilder. “That would work. Don’t you think so, Tino…?” Tino was silent -- serious -- suspicious. “What are you talking about?” he asked nervously. “I’M the only one who’s….” Bennett’s smile grew as the realization sunk in. “I”m gonna be very happy to have you in my movie, Tino! I’m so glad we finally found a project we can work on together.” Tino stood, furious. “Fuck you, Saul Bennett! How fucking dare you? You think you’re gonna add me to your little collection, well you can fucking forget that shit! I will never… EVER… lower myself to your blackmail bullshit! I won’t…” Even Bennett was surprised at how quickly the little gadget he aimed at Tino’s face worked -- but when Bennett pressed the button, the little capsule dispelled the gas and Tino went down like a sack of bricks. Saul Bennett smiled. ******************** For Tino, consciousness came an indeterminate time later, with a feeling that he might be floating. No… swinging. Like in a hammock during a summer dream. He was so horny. When he was finally able to open his oh-so-heavy eyes, he realized he wasn’t in a hammock -- he was in a sling. Spread-eagled, his wrists and ankles were strapped tightly to the frame -- struggle though he might, Tino wasn’t going anywhere. He was on set, so he knew the cameras were running. He was about to scream something to Bennett when he heard the thumping at the double doors. Tino could see them through the safety glass -- the fuck zombies, the muscle-beasts, the whole baker’s dozen, including his husband, the biggest of them all. Mindlessly, they attacked the doors, suddenly aware of Tino and his unguarded hole. Tino began screaming as soon as they burst through.
  3. radiokida

    Black Hulk

    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 brutal 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, protuding 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 protuded 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 had 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're 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 her. "I mean, uh, thanks," I corrected herself. 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 hack 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, untl 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. 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 I had filled up earlier and 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 satisfactory. We're good. You may leave." "Take this as a tip," I said, handing him seventy bucks. "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
  4. JasonDarkfire

    Bracers Of Greed

    I've been spending a lot of time lately taking care of others, saying how I'm being such a good person by giving up so much. Well, I decided to make a story where the protagonist can be a little greedy... Another day, another time where somebody else besides me gets taken care of. A heavy sigh escaped me as I tossed my bag onto a nearby chair, having just returned home from yet another shift looking after my grandfather. It’s not like I don’t want to help, don’t me wrong. It just get frustrating when it seems like everyone and anyone wants me to take care of stuff for them at the expense of any kind of concern for my health and well-being. It’s bad enough when I have to do it at work; at least there, I’m getting paid to spend most of my time cleaning up my co-workers messes. Not nearly enough, of course, but I am paid. No, what’s worse is all the uncompensated work I have to do when I’m off the clock. Running chores for my mother/landlord, having my niece and nephew dumped on me by my brother, friends always expecting me to chip in equally for group purchases that I barely get to use; it sucks. It feels so often like all I do is give and give and give, and get nothing back in return. I’m not asking for a reward or compensation every time, but to never get it at all is quite annoying. Really, what probably bothers me about it more than anything else is that it’s rarely ASKED if I’d be willing to help/do someone a favor. It’s just assumed I’ll put up with it without question, even if it’s at the very last minute and interferes with my own plans. On the rare instance when I push back, I get crap and made to feel like I’m a monster for turning them down no matter how unreasonable the request is. It’s hard not to feel like an afterthought even when what I’m asked to do is important. Take last night’s request for example, the reason I was walking in the door so early in the morning. My grandfather, who I’ve always known as Pop, is over 90 years old now. My mother(his daughter) wants him to feel as independent as possible despite dealing with severe memory loss and early dementia. His wife passed away long ago before I was even born 26 years ago, and despite most of his other children living closer than us, they always have a reason that they can’t help with his needs or even keep him company. She does a bulk of my grandfather’s caretaking, but she also expects me to pick up shifts looking after him as well, often with barely a moment’s notice. I sorta can’t blame her, but I really can’t blame Pop despite him ultimately being the source of my frustration. It’s not like he asked for his current condition, and taking care of him isn’t really difficult either. All I really have to do is make sure he takes his medicine, make him some dinner and breakfast, and stay overnight in case of an emergency. Otherwise, all he wants to do is watch TV and tell stories of dubious levels of truth and ever changing details, something everyone’s owed in large part to his dementia. He did have a new story for me yesterday, though, and one that came with souvenirs. Shifting through my overnight bag, I pulled out the long wooden box Pop had given me. It was about a foot long on each side and a little more than that in depth. From one of the pockets of my bag I pulled out the small metal key that matched the lock on the front. Pop said it was something special, something I deserved. I wasn’t sure about that, but the whole exchange in which he gave me this box was just plain weird. “You’re a good looking guy, Xavier.” I never really thought of myself as that, being a bit over 200 pounds and not much of it being muscle. The fact that he was also bringing this up out of nowhere in the middle of the string of game shows we were watching on TV also caught me off guard. “And you’re a good person, taking care of an old man like me when you should be out there, living your life.” Lately Pop only responds when he’s spoken to, so him talking to me at all without prompting was weird enough. My blue eyes followed him when he rose out of his easy chair and wobbled over to a nearby brick wall and stared very intently at it, I was worried he was having a mental episode. He knew what he was doing as he pulled on one of the bricks, which slid out with ease. Reaching his hand in, he pulled out the box I was holding now and motioned for me to come over. He said it was an artifact he’d gotten when he went overseas during WWII(Mom said he never actually got deployed, so this claim seemed dubious at best), and was something he’d keep for safe keeping. “You’ve been giving a lot of yourself to others. I think you’ve earned the right to be a little greedy.” With that, he handed the odd box to me. The whole time he sounded oddly lucid, at least compared to how he’s been lately. Soon after the box was in my hands, he seemed to go back to normal(or his version of it), asking where the box he’d just given me came from. I figured it was best not to tell him that he was the one who’d handed it to me and guided him back to the chair before storing the box away in my bag. The story was weird, but the box did have something in it judging from the sound it made when I shook it gently. I had the place to myself for the moment, and Pop did specifically give it to me. If it was something valuable, I could always ask Mom what she thought we should do with it. Might as well see what this is, I thought as I stuck the key in the lock… …and my next conscious thought was noticing the golden, jewel adorned bracers around my forearms. “…Wait, what the hell?!” The box was on the floor, though I didn’t remember hearing it hitting against the hardwood as it feel. Nor did I remember taking out or putting on the strange things now on my arms, but there they were. And around the edges of my arm around them…are those burns?! And smoke coming up from under the bracers?! “What the hell?!” I repeated, looking over my arms. Both forearm bracers seemed to be made of solid gold, with a set of 4 large jewels spaced roughly an equal distance around each bracer. Each of the gems were roughly the size of a golf ball, the ones on my right arm a deep red color and the ones on the left were all deep blue. And the bracers seemed solid to a point that I had no idea how they got on or how to get them off. There seemed to be no seam or anything that I could use to open it, nor when they move when I tried to slide them off. It seemed like they had fused to my skin judging from the burns and smoke, but weirdly I felt no pain from them either. I supposed the nerves could’ve just been fried to the point that I couldn’t feel pain, but my hands and arms felt and moved normally, and I could feel the muscles of my forearms moving under the bracers without pain. So they were smoking, had apparently burned my skin, and yet I felt no pain…again; WHAT THE HELL?! Well, whatever was going on, I needed to get these stupid things off. No amount of physical force was making them move, so maybe there was another way? Maybe one of these jewels activated a mechanism that opened them, somehow. How about this one here on my right arm; this one jewel seems to be a little differently colored than the others… Uh-oh; that did something, though given how the bracers began to glow it wasn’t what I wanted to happen. Soon the glow started to turn into an intense heat, the smoke coming off the bracers starting to grow thicker as well. The heat surged downwards into my hands, and though still not necessarily painful it definitely didn’t feel good either as they started to go from normal pink skin to boiled lobster red in a matter of seconds while swelling like an overcooked hotdog. Just as they felt like they were about to explode… well, they kind of did, but not in the way I expected. I could only stare in numb shock as thick brown hair suddenly burst through my skin, covering both of my hands instantly in a thick coat of brown fur. My fingernails were lost under the new fur coat, replaced with the end of each finger becoming hard, flat and coarse. My hands looked almost hoof like, though despite their increased size and thickness I hadn’t lost any kind of dexterity. It looked like I was wearing the gloves from a sports mascot. The thought, “Is it over?” had barely crossed my mind before I realized that it was nowhere near over as the heat started working its way up my arms. The same reddening and heating up feeling that had gone through my hands was being matched on my arms. It wasn’t content to stop when it reached my shoulders, spreading to my chest and core quickly thereafter. The heat was becoming unbearable as I tried to make it to the nearby couch before my legs gave out, only able to get behind the couch and grip the back of it before I felt too dizzy to move. I heard the wooden frame of the couch creaking as I gripped it in my hoof-hands, growing louder as my forearms starting to swell. The bracers seemed to enlarge and swell along with them, remaining about the only part of my body that wasn’t feeling like it was submerged in boiling water. I assumed the bulging veins along my arms were what was making it look larger, but no, my arms weren’t just growing in proportion to my hands. There was a noticeable increase in their definition and thickness, and that was before the explosion of fur and size hit them like they did my hands. When they did… CRUNCH! That was the sound of the couch frame crumbling to splinters in my hands, sending me crashing into the back of the couch as my arms suddenly surged with muscle. Even the new fur coat that stopped just below my shoulder did little to downplay the size of my biceps, the bulge seeming as big as my head as I flexed. My triceps looked equally powerful, and somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered how ridiculous I must look with the massive furry arms on my human body as I struggled back to my feet. Even aware of my strength, the unbroken parts of the couch I gripped when I tried to get back to my feet felt like they would snap with just a little more effort. “AH!” A sudden spasm down my spine made me arch my back, almost breaking the couch again at the shock. The feeling almost, but not entirely drew my attention away from the bubbling sensation that was building along my upper and back and shoulders. The sweat pouring off my body made my t-shirt cling tightly to me, though my shirt was the least of my concerns now. My heart was pounding in my chest in a way I never felt before, each beat pounding in my ears. What happened next occurred in a few seconds, but in my mind it felt like it had taken an eternity. The first was the, “SHRRIP!” sound of my t-shirt splitting down my back as my shoulders and upper back exploded with size, my neck feeling like it was trapped between a pair of fur covered boulders. The second was the, “SHRRIP!” of the couch being torn in half as my newly expanded back forced my arms and hence my grip further apart, holding a half of the broken couch in each hand. The next was the, “BOOM!” of what felt like a bomb going off in my chest, drowning out the sound of the couch remains getting tossed aside as more changes occurred. I couldn’t tell if the noticeable flabs of fat on my chest disappeared or simply blended in so deeply with my filling pecs that it looks that way as my chest pushed forward. As fast as my chest was bulking up, my gut was slimming down and tightening as the heat seemed to boil away all the fat around my belly and sides. Soon the size of my pecs and the thick mat of fur made it impossible to see my abdominal development, though I could still feel the solidness and firmness I’d never known before in them as they flexed. If I had any means of conscious thought I might have been ecstatic with them, though nothing compared to the feeling as the heat reached my groin. The changes hadn’t been painful, but they hadn’t exactly felt good either until the heat started to permeate my cock. As soon as the heat touched it I was hard, the jolt of pleasure combined with my heavy upper body and normal human legs finally causing my knees to give out and send me crashing toward the floor. I couldn’t tell if it was just my hardening cock that was making the seat of my pants feel tight, but in the time from when my butt flexed as it started to head toward the ground and the moment it made contact with the ground, my jeans had split at the seat and my fully exposed ass was hitting the floor. The firmness made me bounce up a little at first, and in the milliseconds between bounces my butt was cushioned by fur on the second hit My cock surged again, and it might have been painful if my quads hadn’t quadrupled in size to split the denim even more to relieve the growing stress on my cock. O.K; quadrupled may have been a bit of an overstatement, but my thighs were two thick pillars of corded muscle that were now rubbing up against each other. The changes continued further down my legs as my calves were starting to feel closer to cows, though I barely noticed. My attention was instead fully locked on what had happened to my groin. What had happened was surprisingly little; yes, I was hard as hell, but other than that my cock and balls had escaped the changes that had hit the rest of my body save for my head. It was almost disappointing that my normal 6 or so inches was still just so, and I felt like I could go off at any moment. When I prodded it with one of my hoof hands, the familiar feelings of an approaching orgasm started to rush through me. My butt clenched as the orgasm hit… and then things got weird(Well, weirdER). My cock started to throb and pulse like normal, but instead of my seed shooting out of my dick, my cock just… grew. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me for the first few pulses, but by the forth my cock was noticeably bigger. My nuts also started to feel heavier as they rested against my thighs, but no cum seemed to be coming. Soon my cock seemed to be pushing double digits while being about as thick round as a bratwurst. For the first time in a while, a conscious thought passed through my mind. It wasn’t why this was happening, or how I could stop this strange transformation. It was just one simple word that went through my mind as I wrapped my hands around my member. More. “More.” I gave voice to my desires as I started to pump my dick, the rough hoof structure of my hands feeling weird but not unpleasant as I stroked. I pulled my cock against my body, feeling the head rubbing between the ridges of my 8-pack under the fur as it continued to creep its way up. A piece of my shoe flew past my face as my feet changed, though I didn’t see nor care what was happening there. My cock was the only thing that mattered now. “More!” My cock started to reach the bottom of my pecs, my hands slowly being prevented from fully encircling my cock as it continued to grow wider and longer. I could feel the bubbling feeling of transformation at the base of my neck, but it wasn’t my cock, so it wasn’t important in the slightest. I had to use both hands together on the same spot to continuing beating myself off, my legs kicking and squirming as my nuts continued to grow. It felt like a pair of oranges were stuffed in there, and yet I still didn’t feel like I was done. “MORE!” My voice sounded deeper that time, most likely owing to whatever was happening to my face. Another mini-explosion hit at the base of my neck, the fur seemed to grow up from my thickening neck in an instant as I went from clean shaven to full beard and mustache to coat of fur in seconds. Even my mouth and nose started to push out from my face, soon giving me a short furry muzzle. I should’ve thought it was awful that I was definitely no longer human, but the extra length of my mouth meant I could get the head of my cock into my mouth now, so it was the greatest thing in the world. “MPPH!” My muffled demand for more was not met this time, though perhaps that was for the best as my cockhead filled my muzzle. Even with the increased width and length of my mouth I could barely fit it in my mouth, the flesh so thick I had to use my teeth to even make a dent in the thick column of flesh. I still continued anyway to stroke the underside of my cock with one of my hands while the other slid down to my balls. Each of them were about a big as a softball and covered in the same fur as the rest of me. I was a virgin, inexperienced with either sex. Still, I was pretty sure men’s semen didn’t take like… well, the closest I could imagine to was thick, gooey honey that started to finally form at the tip of my cock. Neither was it supposed to be so hot that I probably should’ve been worried about burning myself as I eagerly lapped up the ambrosia. The heat continued to persist as it slid down my throat, down into the pit of my stomach, and fuck, did I need more. The more I drank, the more my cock seemed willing to provide. This was so, so wrong. I was some massive, muscular bull thing, who was becoming more bullish by the second if the strange itching sensation emerging from either side of my head. I was growing pointed horns that continued to push out from my skull with every passing second. My normally short and neatly trimmed hair was becoming a wild, thick mane that was flowing down my back. And somehow without even being able to see them, I knew my eyes were now a deep blood red, wiping away pretty much any trace of the human I once was. This was on top of the small puffs of smoke coming out of mouth from either my strange seed or something else. This was so, so wrong, and I was loving every bit of it. I was a monster, with a monster’s strength and size. I felt like my muscles could bend steel and break blades if someone were to strike me, and that was if said blade could even make it through the thick coat of fur. I felt so masculine, so powerful, so fucking STRONG! And not to mention my massive cock; how could THAT be really be so wrong? “FFFFUUCCCK!!” A sudden swelling of my cock forced my member out of my mouth lest I choke on it, letting my three foot length that was about as big around as a 2-liter soda bottle jut straight into the air. My hips bucked as my cockhead swelled again, slamming my fists into the ground and splintering the wood underneath them. The massive balls that were now my testicles clenched, the veins of my cock throbbing angrily and visibly underneath. And finally, I came. The windows rattled with the roar I let out as my cock exploded, seed shooting like a geyser from my monstrous member. The living room ceiling of the condo had to be at least 12 feet or more from the floor, and the first burst of my seed nearly hit the ceiling. The second one did reach as gravity took hold of the first burst, making it drop back on me and the surrounding floor. The seed felt warm as it covered my fur, small wisps of steam coming from the puddles that were forming around me. Thirty seconds in, and it showed no signs of slowing down. The seed covering my fur made my muscles seem even larger, and I couldn’t help but rub and squeeze my muscles as my cock continued to spew. As I flexed my left arm and licked my bulging bicep, I noticed in the corner of my eye one of the blue gems on that bracer were glowing softly. Something had changed, though what had made it happen or what it meant I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of really anything at this point, except for one thing as I looked at my still spewing cock and bought my hands to it again. “More…”
  5. Ryogatsu

    Muscle Pills

    Muscle pills by Ryougatsu Part 1: "You're sure this stuff will work?" I looked at the small pill before my eyes, shifting it to see the magic hidden behind the surface. But there was no magic. Just an ordinary white pill someone would take when he had a headache. "You dont believe, do you?" Mike crossed his arms in front of his chest. We'd first met when i'd started training at this new gym across the park. I'd somehow decided it was a good idea to sign in for a membership and get in shape for summer... you know the time when everyone wants to go to the beaches, impressing hot girls with their abs and biceps. Well ... i didn't wanna impress any girls. I didn't swing that way. I wanted guys, hot dudes with well defined abs, a wide chest and a strong back. Mike must have sensed something because on my first day at the gym he straight aimed for my place. I was just trying my first set bench pressing, struggling a little bit with the weight, when suddenly this shadow lurked over me. First i wanted to grunt some curse but when i looked at that sweaty chest, heaving under his breath, i couldn't do anything but gasp. Mike had just finished his chest-day and was offering me some help. Obviously he noticed me struggling. He was a nice guy which i didn't expect cause usually all the buff dudes were full of themselves. Somehow i agreed. It must have been this damn smile of his. That day we did the full program. He had taught me the most importing exercises, including bench press, barbell row, deadlift and squads and how to perform them well without hurting myself. After that we went over nutrition and the goes and no-goes of every workout-routine. All the fun we had together was forgotten when i'd awoken the next day. Curse this pain. Muscle soreness was my nemesis from this day on but it in the end it was worth all the hard work and dedication. Over five months I'd managed to build a solid athletic look. I had abs, still layered with some fat but i could definitely see them pushing through my shirt. The same applied to my chest and arms. Flexing them felt so good and thanks to my broader back and shoulders i looked bigger too. Still... i was nothing compared to Mike. This guy somehow managed to put on 20 Kg of pure muscles in the same amount of time. When i finally gathered all the courage i could muster inside of me to ask him if he were juicing, he just broke out in laughter. "I'm not juicing, idiot!", he had said. "Well... if you really wanna know my secret i can show you next Friday." And he did. "Why should i believe you? Like swallowing a pill not bigger than my fingertips and growing to Mr. Universe proportions sounds reasonable to you." I was right about to refuse his offer when he lifted his shirt, revealing a solid brick wall of abs. "Go ahead", he said flexing them , "Touch them and tell me that it doesn't feel real." I gulped. Damn they did look big and full... i wanted to feel them so bad... but no! I wouldn't let him have his fun with me. "Just hide them already." I tried to hide my face but from his next action i could tell that he still saw through me. Suddenly he pulled his shirt over his head, leaving him bare chested in front of me. This time i couldn't avert my eyes. I just stared at him, his powerful muscles, his heaving chest eagerly waiting for my fingers running over it, feeling the muscles beneath. "I know you want this, Aaron", Mike said. He flexed his pecs, making them almost double in size. I realized my fingers running over his chest and slowly moving down until i could actually feel his abs. Damn... when did it happen? When did i move towards him? "The pill did this to me." Mike was totally enjoying this. I could tell by his smirking expression. Fucking idiot. "The pill can do the same to you", he said and pointed towards my own chest. "Just take one every week. You don't even need to work out more or anything at all. The pills will do everything." With that he handed me a small bottle full of white pills and a little piece of paper. "Just make sure to not violate the instructions. Don't want any negative side effects, do we?" He winked, grabbed his shirt of the ground and threw it over his shoulder. "You know that i still don't believe you, right?" I tried to think about something nasty like an old duded body to keep myself and most certainly my little member from escalating. Just put your shirt back on already! Mike turned around, showing me his back which, under the influence of sunlight, looked super buffed. "Told ya already. Take the pill and see for yourself. See ya at gym." This fucking jerk flexed one last time before he ran down the walkway and disappeared into the park. After my meet and greet with Mr. Muscle i decided to make myself comfortable in the living room. My parents weren't at home. My mother was visiting some old school and friends and wouldn't be around until 2 a.m. i guessed and my father was working out of town this weekend. We had this super big TV in the living room on which i wasn't allowed to to use my console. I did it nevertheless cause damn, you haven't played a PS4-Game right when you've only played it on a pathetic PC-screen. I plugged in the console and started the game. I've chosen "The Last of us" cause i wanted to prepare myself for the second part. I sucked at the missions where you had to sneak around and slowly murder every infected without alerting anyone around. Everyone could tell i was the type of guy who preferred the more action-driven missions. Unfortunately i had to sneak into a building know. Not ten minutes into the game i could caught and died a pathetic death. God dammit! Keep yourself together, Aaron! You can do it! I noticed the pills which i had put on the glass table my mother was so proud about. Pff... He's juicing for sure. Bet his balls are already shrinking. Dumb idiot. After five more failed attempts from which one was especially not my fault (the game bugged), i decided to put away the controller for some time. Instead i reached for the little note that Mike had given me. I still didn't believe in his story but better learn something about those fake-pills instead of dying to some infected. Unfortunately the note didn't say much at all. There were some warnings about not taking the pills when underage cause your hormonal balance couldn't handle it. Glad i turned 18 last month. Other warnings included a stronger libido, additional gain in height, addiction and something about pregnant or ill persons not allowed to take the pills. After that the note showed a table hinting about the dose. According to it you should take only one pill per week and not stress your body with excessive sport. Sounds reasonable enough. Too bad, it's just a fake. Wouldn't even surprise me if there was nothing but peppermints in the bottle. I thought about taking one just before the door rang. Huh? Who could it be? Mom? No way. Once Mom meets some friends no one can tell whether she even will return. A Visitor then? Curious i rumpled the note and slid it down my pants pocket. "Who's there?", i asked, trying to peak through the door hole. I saw nothing but short blond hair. "It's me!", a voice came from outside. "Fynn! Don't say you forgot my exam." Fynn! I suddenly remembered. I promised to help him with math cause of the exam he had the following Monday. Nothing against a change of pace. "Nah", i replied. "I didn't forget." I opened the door and entering was Fynn, happy and smiling wide as always. "Hah! You totally forgot! But that's fine! The math exam is next week. I lied too." He grinned and gave me a light tap on my shoulder. "But i know you don't mind me intruding. Your parents aren't home?" "Nope", i yawned flexing my arms a little. "Damn! Look at those arms!" Fynn had this special talent always looking at me when i was changing clothes, flexing unconsciousness or adjusting myself down there. I knew he appreciated my newly build body. He always did. Back then when we had our first tutoring lesson, when I'd decided to work out, when we'd went to the outdoor pool and just now when i'd lifted my arms slightly for a yawn. Fynn was 2 years younger than me what made him 16 years old. He had this short blond hair which i had him encouraged to cut because it was a shame to hide those beautiful blue eyes like an ocean every sailor would get lost in. His physique was rather slender. Where i was 1.85m in height, he was only 1.67m. So he always was looking right at my shoulders which he didn't mind. One time he wanted to compared our two bodies, a damn excuse to see me in my underwear, but i agreed. Just couldn't resist this cute innocent smile. At the beginning we both flexed. He had no visible muscles, neither defined abs. Just a smooth flat chest and belly. After a while he just made me copy some poses he saw on a flexing video online. I knew he admired my muscles and that he loved guys like i did (after all he told me right away) but i didn't mind. "You know you could just accompany me to the gym, right?" I gave him a critical look because he was just about to ask me for another flex. Fynn crossed his arms behind his head which made his black shirt rise over his belly button. "I coooould", he said unimpressed. "But with you right next to me I'd just couldn't focus. I'd rather hurt myself while watching your workout than growing some muscles." "Please someone, explain this boy to me." I sighted. "I'm gonna take a shower." Fynn's eyes lightened. "Need some help?" Suddenly he was holding a towel. "I could dry you." The thought of it certainly was intriguing and i caught myself blushing. "No way!", i replied. "Just make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back." Something inside of Fynn might have died this moment but nevertheless he agreed, leaped over the couch, grabbed the controller and started where i had stopped. "Good luck with that", i smiled before i turned around and disappeared into the bathroom. The shower sure did wonders. Not only did it help me getting clean, it also made me forget the pictured of Fynn rubbing my body with that towel, gaping whenever i would flex a muscle. When I'd finally left the bathroom and entered the living room i couldn't believe my eyes. There was Fynn playing the next mission on "The Last of us". That lucker did manage what was impossible for me! I totally had him to replay the level for me so i could learn from him. I sat next to him and slapped his back. "Good work!", i praised. "Couldn't do it for hours." "That level?", he said, munching something. "Piece of cake." He gave me a quick look and took another peppermint out of the bottle. Wait a minute? Peppermint? Suddenly it hit me. "Don't eat that!", i shouted, taking the pill away from Fynn. "Why?", he asked, burping. "They taste fucking good. Like dextrose or something." After seeing my shocked expression he shrugged. "Should i have asked? My bad." He grinned and swallowed another one. "Stop that", I persisted. Quickly i took away the bottle, only realizing it was half empty. "Dammit, Fynn! How many did you eat?" Fynn looked at me like he didn't know what was happening. "Just fifteen or twenty... i don't know. Damn? Why are you getting so upset about it?" I stood up and hid them in the drawer next to me. "You should just..." I paused for a second. This stuff was still fake... why was i getting so upset? "Just don't eat them." "You are right. I'm sorry." Fynn stood up, looking at my chin. My chin? Wait! "Woah! Fynn weren't you only 1.67m?" I gulped. They are fake... right? Fynn gave me another weird look. "Of course I am! Why are..." Suddenly i heard a faint rumbling. It came from Fynns belly which was showing a little under his shirt. "Guess you were right", he grunted. "Shouldn't have eaten those mints." His eyes went wide. He must have realized it too cause i saw it right in front of me. Fynn, the little neighbor boy was growing until he looked right at my nose. His shirt now revealed his little belly button and more. I could actually see the faint outlines of abs like he had just started working out. "Did you see that?", he asked me eagerly. "Damn! That weren't mints, were they?" I nodded silently. The pills... weren't they supposed to be fake? His shocked expression shifted to a wide smile. "Guess i grew a little." He flexed his right arm only to see a little peak. Nothing notable but enough for him to feel amazed. "Aaron...", he said, with awe to his new body. "I can still feel it. And it's building up." I gulped. Again i could hear that faint rumbling instead it wasn't faint right now. I could actually hear it and see his body shift beneath his shirt. First i saw it in his arms. Slowly they started filling up with muscles, gaining in size until they were as big as golfballs. "You see that?" Fynn flexed his arms, making the first fibers rip apart. "This feels fucking fantastic." They continued to swell until they were the size of tennisballs, nearly as big as mine. My focus was suddenly drifted towards his center as i saw his shirt ballooning outwards. "Feels so good", he said, closing his eyes. I could tell by his expression that he enjoyed it with every part of his body. I would have risked a quick look down there but i was too distracted by his growing pecs. They continued to push outward until first rips started to form. Damn Fynn was already looking down at me. In just one minuted he had gained another 10 or 15cm in height. "It's getting tight in here", Fynn said pointing at his shirt. "Want to rip opening my shirt?", he asked. "How about it? Go ahead or my pecs will do the work." It was no question nor an invitation. He leaped forward, grabbing my hands and placing them on his chest. I went instantly from soft to full-mast. Feeling his pecs fill out this shirt, seeing skin showing through ripped fibers, i couldn't hold myself back anymore. I kept hold of his shirt and ripped it apart only to reveal huge muscled pecs, now the size of two footballs. Beneath his chest was a solidified brick-wall of abs, still pushing outwards, inviting me to touch them. Fynn had to notice my thirst for his muscles because he pulled me towards himself and forced my hand over his abs before he gave them a flex. Gasp... i felt my dick twitching. He didn't even have to force me anymore. I started to rub my hands over his torso alone, feeling every rill, every muscle fiber beneath his hot and sweating skin. Suddenly i could feel another rumbling, shaking Fynns whole body. He moaned in ecstasy, when i noticed his legs pushing his shorts to the limits. In the past his meager legs used to be thin and weak but now they had the strength of a horse, nearly as big as my torso. "It feels... so good..." Fynn certainly was enjoying this. He looked down at me, waaay down at me. He must have been around 2.5m right now. And with the size of his shoulders... damn the size of his shoulders was gigantic, like two cannonballs, slowly growing towards both walls of the room. Again Fynn noticed myself looking and grinned. "You should see yourself right now", he said, panting. "You are like me back then, eagerly waiting to touch this bod. Well how about this?" Fynn turned around. For a brink of a second i could see his triceps, now bigger like both my legs tide together, making his arms almost as big as the couch. He then prepared a lat-spread which made him double in width. I moaned, grabbing my own dick. His back was only muscles now and he still wasn't slowing down. "Someone needs help down there?" Without me agreeing, Fynn took hold of my waste band and ripped it apart, revealing myself in tight trunks which didn't hide anything. My 18cm dick was fully erected and i was eager to rub it. Fynn did the job for me. "You know, i always wanted to suck your dick", he said stroking it outside the fiber with one finger. I realized that one of his fingers was already as thick as my dick. I moaned as he grapped my dick gave it a small flex. "I have a better idea", he smirked. I couldn't tell, what he meant, until he flexed his mountainous legs to shred his once loosen shorts. What i spotted hidden behind it was fully erected 26cm dick, working his way up his belly button and pointing towards his solid 8-pack. Damn... i wanted his body... this globe-like pecs, this monstrous shoulders, this trunk-like arms, this wall of abs i was right looking at, this enormous legs and I wanted his still growing dick... This damn monster-boy was reading my mind again. Right after i finished my thought he freed his giant dick from his pathetic trunks and pushed myself closer to him. Soon i found myself wrapping my hand over his cockhead which had the size of my fist. I saw heard him moaning and gasping as i took another hand to support his heavy shaft. He then did something i did not account for. "Don't stop", he moaned as he reached over my head, broke the drawer and lifted the bottle of pills towards his mouth. I thought about stopping him, this gigantic beast. Really! But in the end i just watched as he emptied the bottle and swallowed all the pills. The effect didn't take long to trigger. No, i didn't see or hear it. I just felt it between both of my hands. As Fynn was growling like a beast i could feel his dick widen and lengthen. It grew until it had the size of one of my legs. I felt myself getting weak by the sheer view of his dick growing over my head, knocking me almost over. I heard the ceiling creak and knew Fynn was now as tall as the room. I didn't mind. I was too focused on his dick, stroking it with both my hands like fighting a giant snake only not to kill it but to pleasure this 16 years old giant. "Aaron...", Fynn moaned as he lied down crushing the couch and TV beneath him. His body filled the whole living room. Suddenly Fynn lifted me up the ground, placing me on his popping abs. I had to stand and two of them. That's how big and muscular they where. With a peak behind my shoulder i saw Fynns wanting face and knew what to do. Again i stroke his dick, stroke it with both my hands. Fynn was still rumbling beneath me, hitting his head on something but i didn't stop. "Damn... this feeling... this pressure..." Suddenly Fynns eyes widened. I quickly escaped to the side of the living room before a hot load of cum could knock me off. With every spasm Fynns whole body flexed and gained an additional Kg of pure muscles. This view alone made myself cum. I couldn't hold it back anymore and watched as one load after another escaped my dick. After we both finished i gave Fynn a brief look. He shrugged at me only to flex his right biceps which knocked over the cupboard my father loved so much. I almost came a second. Damn. This idiot. Then it hit me. I grabbed my smartphone, dialed a number and spoke: "Mike, i need another one of those bottles." Part 2: “So, you are telling me you actually dumped all my pills into the toilet because you didn’t believe me but now you do and want more?” Mike sighted. I could tell by him lifting his eyebrows that he wasn’t buying it. I just stood there in full silence, nodded and made small circles with my feet. My mind drifted back to that monstrosity, that sheer wall of muscles I’d left home alone, hidden away from curious eyes. The thought alone made my little member steer up. I wanted those muscles, this feeling of growing bigger, swelling and flexing, only to burst free from my own clothes. Damn. I wanted to touch myself so bad right now, but I couldn’t lose myself in front of Mike. I had to play it cool. “Well… after tossing away those pills I remembered your body a month ago. You were huge before, I would be foolish to deny that, but now you are nearly 20KG bigger.” I approached him, gently tabbing his shoulders. “I believe you”, I said. “No way on earth would you be juicing with some illegal stuff. So please… I want to be built like you. Having those beautiful pecs overshadow those ripped abs… I can’t help myself but droll over your body.” With that I had to convince him. When Mike loved one thing more than his muscular torso and working out it hat to be someone admiring him. And it worked. Mike was turning bright red, smiling like a dumb child whose childhood crush just had confessed to him. He was rubbing the tip of his nose, secretly showing off those arms of his with one gently flex. “Of cause you want those muscles”, he giggled and gave me a double bi. Nothing compared to Fynns newly grown muscles, but it still made me lose my cool. For a moment I found myself just standing there admiring the swollen muscles which he hid under that tight tanktop. I finally released myself from his stunning look. “So, will you help me out?” This time I didn’t have the guts to look him directly into the eyes. Therefore, I shifted my eyes downwards where I saw his abs moving under his top. “I might really do it”, Mike said. “After all it’s you we are talking about. You wouldn’t lie to me, would ya?” We both laughed as he reached down his backpack and searched for something until he found it. “How much do you want?” In his hand he held a glassy bottle full of white pills. There had to be nearly thrice the amount than in mine. Around 60, I guessed. “W-well…”, I stumbled, “could you give me like… like 50 pills?” In fear of being rejected I close my eyes. I had to go all or nothing when I really wanted to outgrow Fynn. I wanted to surprise him, show him a muscular sight he could not even imagine in his wildest dreams. To my surprise Mike did agree to my demands. “Someone is eager to catch up to me, isn’t he?” The buffed-up guy laughed and made his pecs bounce. “Take one hundred of those and you wouldn’t be able to catch up to me because I have all the genes and hard work.” With that he tossed me his bottle and threw his backpack over his right shoulder. “Anything else?”, he asked with a slight look at his smartphone. He probably had to go back home, taking care of his little sister, I guessed. “You are really sure about this?” I still couldn’t believe he had tossed me all the 60 pills. With that I could be gigantic within an hour. Damn… the thought made me hard again. “It’s fine”, Mike replied. “Just be sure to follow those instruction I gave you earlier. And don’t you think about giving any to them to Fynn. I don’t want to imagine what those testosterone-bombs could do to this muscle laughing boy you are so proud of.” He could turn into the most beautiful muscle-beast, I thought and stayed silent. With that we bid our farewells and I went back home. From the outside no one could tell that I was hiding a huge 16-years old boy with muscles every bodybuilder would dream off. I hid Fynn behind those huge stonewalls and checked twice that every curtain was in place where it belonged. Although I could hear a dull rumbling from inside like someone moving big furniture around. As I opened the door and stepped inside I couldn’t believe my eyes. Somehow Fynn managed to move everything from the living room into the kitchen next to it. Only a lonely dresser was still in his right hand. He used it as a weight, lifting it up and down, up and down, up and down. I could see his biceps swelling a little and his chest pushing outwards whenever he took a deep breath. Downwards were his abs still as big and wide as my head. I couldn’t ignore the huge dick hanging between his legs and slowly rubbing over the carpet as he noticed me and leaned forward a little bit. “If it isn’t my beloved tutor, Aaron.” Fynn grinned like only he could and pushed me towards his member until I could actually feel the blood rushing through it. I knew if I stayed there longer, caressing his giant member, I would lose myself and we would start all over again. Therefore, I moved back, a little disappointed because his dick was just coming to life, and shook my head. “We can’t”, I stressed. Not yet. Not before I grew to your size. Suddenly Fynn’s expression shifted to sadness. “And I thought you’d enjoyed our little session before.” He put down the dresser and pushed it away into the kitchen like it did weight nothing. “That’s not it”, I replied. “Just…” I had to change the subject. That’s why I showed him the bottle full of white pills and just like that his expression shifted again. Now he was full of anticipation. Fynn wanted those pills, I could tell by the look on his face, but I pulled them away from him. “Nawww. C’mon… just five or ten more…” Fynn made hist best puppy expression he could muster which didn’t fit his monstrous body at all. I remained focused. “Five or ten? Dude, you don’t want to outgrow this house, won’t ya?” Fynn shrugged. “Why not?” For a split second I really considered it. Fynn growing huge with me riding the top of his arms to the sky. Hmmm… my dick was stirring back to life again and Fynn was smirking. “See, you like it.” Again, he tried to grab some pills and again I evaded him. “No way! It’s my time to shine!” I took five pills out of the bottle and stopped right before my mouth. “Why are you hesitating?”, Fynn asked. “Don’t you want such beautiful muscles like me?” He flexed which made my dick twitch in response. Slowly I inspected his towering body. He nearly had enough room to sit straight without hitting his head on the ceiling. I wouldn’t get this big just by swallowing five pills, but I would definitely be bigger. Without further ado I swallowed the five pills. It didn’t take long for the effects to kick in. At first, I felt a warmth building up inside my body. It started at my centered right where my stomach was located. The heat started to increase and soon it was like an intense fire burning inside of me. Sweat was running down my back which made my shirt stick to my skin. After that I could hear the rumbling. It was like a fine earthquake caged inside my body, making my feet and hands shiver. Then everything went silent. Fynn and I both looked over my body. Nothing had changed. Why didn’t it work? “Maybe swallow another pill? It worked on me”, Fynn grinned and flexed. Yes, I even considered it but before I could snatch another pill something else happened, something… different. As I looked down I could see the floor moving away from me until I realized that I was growing. Fuck. I actually grew. I fucking grew! My shirt didn’t fit me at all anymore. Between the waistband of my trunks and the lower end of my shirt were more than five centimeters missing, revealing my lower abs. My shorts, in the past covering my knees, now looked like a kid’s boxers. How much did I grow? I had to be around 2.2m right now, because I was right looking at Fynns pecs. Sure, he was still sitting but it was an improvement of around 40 centimeters! “Can you believe it?”, I asked and didn’t realize that compared to Fynn I still looked pretty weak. But not for long. For I could feel another growth sensation. This time it wasn’t my bones. No. This time it felt like someone was pumping me up like a never stopping balloon, growing bigger and fuller with every heartbeat. I could feel it in my chest first. Like fucking cement. “Hell yea!”, I shouted as my chest pushed outwards, growing heavier with every second. Slowly I started rubbing my growing pecs, feeling the muscles move and twitch beneath my tightening shirt. As my fingers slid down my body I felt my abs like cobblestones erupting from an already uneven surface. With every breath I took in I could see them bulge out, separating like mountains from valleys, until first fibers appeared to rip apart. “Holy shit. This feels amazing.” I looked up to Fynn and could see his giant member filling with live until it pointed straight towards the ceiling. Hell, you better enjoy the view because I do. I fucking love this feeling, this never ending growth, ripping apart my own clothes. I did a most muscular which shredded my shirt completely. Damn. I almost came. My chest must had doubled in size and now my shoulders and arms were joining in. I clenched my fist and relaxed it. Before my biceps were the size of baseballs but slowly they morphed into firm handballs. Again, I flexed. Fucking softballs. Right now I had to be bigger then Mike, bigger than he who had been working out for months. And I wanted more. Suddenly I let out deep growl like a beast that was hidden deep into a cave and finally broke free. All those muscles that erupted behind me, making me wider, bigger and stronger. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel them. Gradually my bulging arms were pushed sideways as my lats expanded. I had to be fucking 2 meters wide. Hell yeah. I did a lat spread and could hear Fynn moaning behind me. Hope you enjoy this show cause I ain’t done yet. The heat was shifting from my steel-like core down my hips and finally converging inside my legs and cock. Fuck… I moaned like someone was giving me the best blowjob ever. Grasping for more air to fill my lungs I looked down and saw my crotch inflating. Slowly my hardened dick was working its way down my legs rubbing over those bulging muscles, giving me the best sensation, I’d ever had. Something deep inside me was wishing for it to never stop, an endless growth, an endless sexual euphoria. Hearing the first fibers tear apart as my legs grew to the size of powerful trunks, I turned around to reveal what was happening down there to Fynn. The giant boy instantly smirked. “Don’t you think, it’s unfair? Havin all the fun alone?” He gently stroked his member which was already leaking pre over his huge abs. Like mesmerized I stumbled towards him, admiring his dick that was right in front of me. I heard another rip and at last my dick broke free, slapping against my abs and still growing towards my heavy chest. “C’mon, big Guy”, Fynn teased while his left hand found my dick. “I know you want it. You want to take it inside of you, feeling it pulse with every heartbeat.” He caressed my dick. His words turned into a whisper inside my head. Like a Siren it was calling me and like a lost sailor in the middle of nowhere I followed it. Only did I not suffer shipwreck, but managed to meet his Fynn’s cockhead, gently caressing it with my tongue until I tried to swallow it whole. At first it was difficult, nearly impossible. In the end I could taste the first fruits of pleasure from him. While he was fully engulfed into the process I couldn’t stop but feeling something odd. Somehow his dick was growing inside my mouth. I took hold of it with both of my hands, trying to fight it like a living sea monster. I was resisting the beast with all my might, pressed it against my chest. I thought it was all due my imagination but when it suddenly broke free and almost knocked me over, I had to retreat for a moment. “Fynn”, I said. My own dick was leaking pre. A few more stroked and I was a goner. “I think something is wrong with your dick. It’s…” I turned silent before what I had to witness at that moment. Fynn was holding the bottle inside one hand, swallowing one pill after another until they were no more. With another wave of pleasure, he almost instantly gained one meter in height, only to hit his head at the ceiling. He bended forward, his mountainous arms to both of my sides, and his feet pressed against the kitchen’s wall. At this moment several thoughts were rushing through my head. What have you done, you idiot? Fynn, are you for serious? What should I tell mom and dad? What should I tell his parents? Thanks to some muscle-drug your 16 years old son is turning into the most beautiful and horn muscle-giant. In the end I remained silent. As Fynn was bending over me I could look right at his still growing dick. It nearly measured two meters in length and was as big as one of my legs (after the growth). I gulped as I saw his abs rearrange into a landscape of muscles with chasms bigger than I could ever imagine. Every section of his now 10-pack had to be as big as my torso and they were still growing. “Why don’t you …” Fynn let out a soft moan. “Why don’t you feel them?” Obviously, he meant his arms. No… those weren’t arms anymore. Those were weapons. If he really wanted he could have lifted one of those heavy loaded trucks with ease. Damn, they wouldn’t even provide a serious challenge. Those biceps were loaded with brute muscle force. And then he flexed them, enjoying the size of his ever-growing muscles to the most extend. They had to be the size of me and Mike curling up together. I heard the ceiling giving in but his giant back was more than enough to protect me from falling rubble. Fynn giggled as his feet destroyed the kitchen wall only to extend further behind and finally breaking the first window. Fucking hell. This giant was as big as my parent’s house. Another wall collapsed under his growth. At this point I didn’t even care. The only thing I could see was his monstrous chest. Something I couldn’t even describe with simple words. It was so full and hard that I actually could spot all the separate muscles. Every time his upper chest was bursting with sheer muscle-force his middle and lower chest followed, only to be beaten by his upper chest again. Was his growth ever slowing down? I didn’t care. Carefully I made my way towards his pecs, crawled beneath those huge muscle-globes and reached the front of his cock head which by the time was long and wide like a tree trunk. “Maybe I overdid it.” Fynn was smiling. This damn innocent smile. Every time I would be mad at him, this smile was enough to calm me down for years. And those eyes. Those beautiful ocean-like eyes. “Shut up”, I said. “And prepare yourself.” Fynn knit his brow. “Prepare for…” Instead of finishing his sentence he let out a soft moan. “Hmmm… please…” I was working on his dick. Now that it was too big I couldn’t give him a blowjob. Therefore, I decided it would be better to let my new muscles do all the work for him. With every stroke I did, I could actually feel the pressure building up inside of him. Every time his dick was twitching, gaining an additional decimeter in length. Every time new muscles where surfacing beneath his skin. Every time I could feel myself closer to cumming. In the end it didn’t even take ten more strokes for both of us to cum. I was the first one. Shooting load after load I gave Fynn another stroke until all of his muscles contracted, breaking another wall finally towards the ceiling. The moon shined especially bright this night. With the light forming deep shadows on his body, Fynn let out a deep and vibrant growl. Like a beast he shouted and like a beast he came. The streets were flooded with his seed of youth. His growth was finally slowing down until it stopped. “I kinda did a mess to your house”, Fynn said and stood up. He rose and rose and rose. Like a giant mountain made of muscles he was towering over me, a monster the size of two houses stacked on top of each other and as wide as a truck. “Shut up, Idiot”, I said. “Just make sure to leave some pills for me next time.” “No way in hell”, he instantly replied and we both had to laugh.
  6. Ryogatsu

    Der Camping-Ausflug (German)

    Der Campingausflug Kapitel 1: Fynn saß auf der hintersten Bank des Minibusses und folgte träge jeder noch so kleinen Kurve mit seinem Körper. Draußen sah er die von einzelnen Hügeln gesprenkelte Landschaft, die kargen Bäume, die allmählich an Laub verloren und dafür an Nadeln gewannen. Als sie von zuhause aus aufgebrochen waren, hatte er nicht geglaubt, dass die Fahrt so ermüdend und anstrengend werden würde. Mittlerweile schmerzte ihm der Hintern, war vermutlich seit der letzten Talüberfahrt eingeschlafen, seine Augen waren trocken von der kalten Luft, die die Klimaanlage ihm ins Gesicht blies und allmählich verspürte er einen unangenehmen Druck auf der Blase. Ich hätte doch gehen sollen, schmollte er innerlich, und schaute aus dem matten Wagenfenster. Vor gut einer halben Stunde hatten sie am Fichtenplatz Halt gemacht, um neben dem Tank auch ihre eigenen Kraftreserven aufzufüllen. Während Aaron und Caleb die Chance ergriffen hatten, um sich nochmal auf dem Klo zu erleichtern, hatte Fynn lediglich einige Runde an der frischen Luft gedreht. Er war zusammen mit Leif an den Autos und Lastern vorbeigeschlichen, hatte kurz einige mürrische Blicke mit einem echt mies gelaunten Fahrer ausgetauscht, um sich und seinem Freund anschließend einen Müsliriegel mit getrockneten Kirschen zu kaufen. Auf die Frage seines Vaters hin, ob er nicht auch nochmal auf die Toilette wolle hatte er bloß mit einem Schulterzucken geantwortet. „Ich bin schon groß und kann meine Blase gut unter Kontrolle halten“, hatte er gesagt. Groß mag ich sein. Groß und selten dämlich. Fynn wälzte sich in seinem Sitzplatz umher und verschränkte die Arme vor der Brust. Der Wagen hüpfte über die losen Holzleisten einer alten Brücke, die einen sprudelnden Bach überquerte, und er stieß sich den Kopf, wobei er sich auf die eigene Zunge biss. „Verdammt nochmal“, fluchte er. Der Geschmack von Eisen lag ihm im Mund. „Ah ah ah“, ermahnte ihn sein Vater, den Blick stets auf die holprige Straße vor sich gerichtet. „Was habe ich dir übers Fluchen beigebracht, Mr. Hopps?“ Aaron und Caleb stimmten mit ein. „Genau“, kicherten sie. „Das gehört sich aber nicht für solch einen frommen Jungen.“ Die beiden selbsternannten Scherzkekse schauten über die Rückenlehne und warteten wohl darauf, dass er vor Scharm rot anlief. Die Genugtuung gebe ich ihnen ganz gewiss nicht. Stattdessen ging er in die Offensive. „Caleb, warum zeigst du meinem Vater nicht diese tolle Zeitschriftensammlung, die du mitgebracht hast. Du weißt schon, die mit den nackten…“ Eine Wasserflasche flog an seinem Kopf vorbei und traf den schnarchenden Leif genau auf die Nasen. Der Junge schrie auf, stieß sich den Kopf an der Rückenlehne seines Vordernachbars und merkte wohl, wie ihm Tränen ins Gesicht stiegen. Irritiert hielt er sich die Nase und suchte Antworten bei Fynn. „Alles gut“, flüsterte er. „War nur der Wurfversuch des schlechtesten Pitchers, den ich je gesehen habe.“ „Bitte?“ Caleb stieg die Röte ins Gesicht. Du hast mich schon verstanden. Seitdem letzten Monat hatte Caleb angefangen, in einem professionellen Baseballclub mitzuspielen. Zugegeben, er hatte sich als Batter beworben und war somit wesentlich effektiver im Umgang mit dem Schläger. Dennoch hielt er auch einiges von seinen Wurfkünsten, vor allem von seinem angedrehten Caleb-Spezial. „Du darfst es ihm nicht verübeln.“ Aaron legte Caleb die Hand auf die Schulter. „Die Flasche war schon echt beschissen geworfen. Du hast Leif mitten auf die Nase getroffen. Sieh, er blutet sogar.“ „Brauchst du ein Taschentuch?“ Fynn kramte bereits in dem Rucksack, den er provisorisch zwischen den Beinen fixiert hatte, aber Leif schüttelte den Kopf. „Alles gut“, entgegnete er durch zugekniffene Nase. „Ich lasse es einfach ausbluten.“ Er lächelte. Typisch. Verpass ihm nen Schlag auf die Nase und er bedankt sich eher bei dir, als dass er zurückschlägt. Der „gutmütige Leif“ wurde er in ihrer Klasse genannt. Leif der Friedliche, Pazifisten-Leif oder sogar Gandhi. Ihre Mitschüler hatten sich allerlei Namen für sie ausgedacht und einige hatten sie sogar davon übernommen: Caleb war der Sportkoster, weil es keinen Sport gab, den er noch nicht probiert hatte; Aaron nannten sie den Zahlenverschlinger wegen seiner mathematischen Begabung dafür in jeder Aufgabe eine Zahl zu vergessen und trotzdem zum richtigen Ergebnis zu kommen; Leif nannten sie den Gutmütigen und Fynn hatte den Titel Buffetzerstörer verliehen bekommen, weil er einst während des der Abschiedsfeier ihres ehemaligen Schulterleiters gestürzt und das halbe Buffet abgeräumt hatte. Gut, dass er die Schule nach diesem Vorfall verlassen hat. Inzwischen hatten sie die Grenzen des Waldes überschritten. Kiefern, die wie Speere zum Himmel aufragten, umsäumten die schmale Fahrbahn und schufen einen natürlichen Zaun. Sorgfältig verarbeiteter Pflaster wich erdigem und rauem Boden. Die verschlissene Federung des Wagens ließ sie jeden erdenklichen Stein und jede Vertiefung spüren. Fynn meinte, eine Herde Rehe im tiefen Dickicht gesehen zu haben und presste sein Gesicht daraufhin gegen die Fensterscheibe. Waren dort tatsächlich Rehe gewesen, hatte der Motor sie verscheucht. Ein Bach plätscherte zwischen einer alten Kiefer und einem erdigen Felsbrocken hindurch und verschwand hinter einem moosbewachsenen Hang. „Glaubst du, wir werden Hirsche sehen?“ Leif rückte auf, bis sich ihre Beine berührte und ihre Schultern streiften. „Wenn wir Glück haben, sehen wir sogar ne ganze Herde“, entgegnete Fynn. Er fühlte Noahs warmen Atem in seinem Nacken und näherte sich ihm heimlich, indem er die Hand auf das Bein legte. „Und wenn wir Pech haben?“ „Dann finden uns die Wölfe.“ Caleb stieß ein entsetzliches Jaulen aus und Aaron schloss sich dem Schauspiel an. „Zwei Idioten wie für einander geschaffen“, grinste Leif und entfernte sich wieder von Fynn. Im Zelt werde ich über ihn herfallen. Im Auto konnte er das nicht. Nicht, solange sein Vater mit seiner Frömmigkeit noch anwesend war. Ein guter Christ sollte seine Gelüste unter Kontrolle halten, mahnte er stets. Außerdem würde er seine Beziehung mit Leif niemals gutheißen. Ganz anders da seine Mutter. Sie hatte die beiden bereits durchschaut, da waren sie noch gemeinsam zur Realschule gegangen. Es waren diese Blicke, die sie sich gegenseitig zugeworfen hatten, während Fynns vierzehnten Geburtstag, hatte er später erfahren. Anfangs hatten Fynn und Leif noch Angst und Bange gehabt, doch schon bald stellte sich heraus, dass Fynns Mutter sie Voll und Ganz unterstützte. Fast jedes zweite Wochenende scheuchte sie seinen Vater durch irgendwelche Parks, Museen oder Einkaufscentren, sodass sie wenigstens ein paar Stunden alleine hatten. Und welche Stunden das waren. Sein Vater lenkte den Wagen tiefer in den Wald hinein. Sie passierte ein rustikales Schild, dessen Anstrich die Sonne bereits ausgeblichen hatte. Vor ihnen lag der Westliche Caniwald, ein tiefes Geflecht aus meterhohen Kiefern, deren Nadeln in der Mittagssonne golden glänzten; ein Ort voller verborgener Wasserbuchten und bergischen Aufstiegen, die sie dicht unter die Wolken führen würden sowie finsteren Minenschächte und rustikalen Berghütten. Zumindest wenn man all diesen Geschichten glauben durfte. Der Wagen hielt. „Was machst du?“, fragte Fynn und lehnte sich nach vorne. „Bis zur Lichtung ist es noch ein gutes Stück.“ „Dann werdet ihr den Rest laufen müssen.“ Sein Vater deutete auf einen umgestürzten Baumstamm. Wohl ein Opfer des Sturmes vergangener Woche. „Ein Glück, dass ihr junge und kräftige Beine habt.“ Er drehte den Schlüssel herum und erstickte somit den Motor. Draußen schlug Fynn zuerst die unbändige Hitze ins Gesicht. Trotz der Schatten, die die hohen Bäume auf den schmalen Waldweg warfen, hatte die Sonne die Luft gnadenlos aufgeheizt. Er griff an die Wagentür und verbrannte sich dabei fast die Finger. „Ver…“ Ein Fluch wäre beinahe über seinen Lippen gewandert, aber er konnte sich noch einmal zurückhalten. Nicht vor deinem Vater, maßregelte er sich und nutzte die Unterseite seines Shirts zum Schutz, um den Kofferraum zu öffnen. Darin fand er vier große Rucksäcke, jeder mindestens halb so groß wie sie selbst und auch halb so schwer. Jeder von ihnen bekam einen und dazu noch einen Schlafsack und eine Isomatte, die man provisorisch am Rucksack befestigt hatte. Caleb stemmte das Gepäck wie ein Weltmeister. Aaron hatte anfangs ein wenig Probleme und Fynn selbst wäre beim Anlegen fast nach hinten umgefallen. Nach einer Weile hatte er sich allerdings an das neue Gewicht gewöhnt. Der Sport letzten Winter machte sich endlich bemerkbar. Es war Leif um den er sich sorgte. Der fast achtzehnjährige Teenager hielt nicht viel vom Krafttraining und verbrachte seine Freizeit meist auf Spaziergängen oder gemütlichen Wanderungen. Die mangelnde Sportbegeisterung wurde ihm nun zum Verhängnis. „Alles gut“, versicherte er, das Gesicht rot angelaufen und die Knie zittrig wie Pudding, als Fynn ihm näherkam. „Nein, wirklich. Ich schaff das.“ Und in zehn Minuten darf ich dich dann vom Boden abkratzen, wenn dich der Rucksack unter seinem Gewicht begraben hat. „Habt ihr auch wirklich alles dabei?“ Sein Vater tupfte sich mit einem Tuch den Schweiß von der Stirn. „Wenn ich nicht dran gedacht habe, hat es Mum. Du kennst sie.“ Vermutlich trägt sie die Schuld für das schwere Reisegepäck. „Was ist mit den Zelten? „Ein Camping-Ausflug ohne Zelte wäre wohl witzlos, findest du nicht?“ „Die Konserven?“ „Im Notfall gehen wir Jagen oder Angeln. Denk dran. Vor dir steht Baltimores bester Pfadfinder.“ „Und das Kreuz?“ „Glaubst du wirklich, dass unser Ausflug von Dämonen heimgesucht wird?“ „Mr. Hopps!“ „Trage es stets bei mir.“ Fynn fischte ein silbernes Kreuz aus dem Kragen seines Shirts und zeigte es seinem Vater zur Beruhigung. „Gut. Sollte was sein…“ „…finden wir dich und Mutter in der Herberge keine Stunde von hier entfernt. Papa, wir sind keine Kinder mehr. Das wird schon.“ Fynn schloss seinen Vater ein letztes Mal in die Arme und überhörte die überaus erwachsenen Zurufe im Hintergrund. „Wenn ihr so viel Gefallen an einer väterlichen Umarmung findet, warum kommt ihr dann nicht hierher und bedankt euch auch mal bei meinem Vater? Immerhin hat er euch den ganzen Weg hierhergefahren!“ Seine Freunde hörte ihn nicht länger. Caleb war längst über den morschen Baumstamm geklettert und hatte die anderen drei weit hinter sich gelassen, während Aaron gerade drumherum schlich und Leif brav wartete. „Das ist okay“, entgegnete Fynns Vater und löste die Umarmung. „Mögen sie mir nicht danken, so wird der Herr diese gute Tat erkennen.“ Er faltete die Hände vor der Brust und schloss die Augen. Das Zeichen für Fynn, um sich davon zu machen. Es dauerte eine Weile, bis sie den Minibus hinter sich gelassen hatten und sein Vater aus ihrem Sichtfeld verschwunden war. Der Weg durch den Wald führte sie über einen schmalen Pfad, der lediglich für Wanderer ausgelegt war und die vergangenen Monate kaum genutzt wurde. Die Wurzeln sturer Bäumen schlugen bereits über den Gehweg hinaus und bildeten verborgen unter getrocknetem Laub gefährliche Stolperfallen. Es war als wäre der Wald einst vor den Menschen zurückgewichen und würde sich ganz leise und heimlich zurückholen, was damals ihm gehörte. Obwohl seine Freunde zielbewusst vorausliefen, Leif ihm allerdings stets dicht auf den Versen, war es Fynn, der sie anführte. Als er seinem Vater gesagt hatte, er sei der beste Pfadfinder gewesen, hatte er nicht gelogen. Nein, ein frommer Christ tat so was nicht. Tatsächlich hatte Fynn die Wahrheit gesagt. Schon damals hatte er den einen oder anderen Ausflug in diese Wälder unternommen und hatte vom Käferabzeichen bis zum Lagerfeuerabzeichen alles ausprobiert. Aus diesem Grund kannte er auch einen wunderbaren Campingplatz, ganz in der Nähe eines Flusses. Ein wenig abgelegener und gut versteckt hinter einer Wand aus dichtem Gestrüpp und garstigen Dornen kannte er sogar einen kleinen Tümpel, der sein glasklares Wasser direkt aus einer Quelle weiter oben in den Bergen bezog. „Hey, Pfadfinderass, wie weit ist denn noch, bis zur magischen Lichtung?“ Caleb lief ein wenig langsamer, damit sie aufschließen konnten. Der Sportkoster stemmte das Gewicht mit Bravour und hüpfte sogar über einen kleinen Graben, durch den ein winziges Rinnsal Wasser floss. Fynn deutete auf ein Buschwerk, in welcher der Pfad scheinbar verschwand. „Der Platz sollte glatt hinter dieser Wand aus Blättern sein.“ Seine Erinnerungen ließen ihn nicht im Stich. Auf der anderen Seite des Gebüschs entfaltete sich eine Landschaft wie er sie als Kind stets genossen hatte. Vor ihnen lag eine Lichtung, eben und flach. Die Sonne hatte das Gras weiträumig ausgetrocknet, doch dicht am Flussbett gewann es seine saftig grüne Farbe zurück und ließ sogar Blumen spießen. Inmitten der Lichtung entdeckte er einen großen Holzpfahl. Noch erkannte er die Farbe und den bunten Schriftzug darauf. Die Zeit hatte diesem Pfahl ordentlich zugesetzt, hatte ihn abstumpfen und bleich werden lassen, doch diese Platz markierte sein altes Pfadfindercamp. Verloren in alten Kindheitserinnerungen ließ er die Hand über das raue Holz wandern und fluchte, als er sich einen Splitter einfing. Dann traf sein Blick einen alten Dornenbusch und sofort wurde er von kindlicher Vorfreude übermannt. Der massive Rucksack glitt von seinem Rücken. „Komm, Leif“, rief er und drängte seinen Freund zur Eile. „Wohin?“, fragte Leif sichtlich irritiert. Dennoch gehorchte er und befreite sich von der schweren Last. Platsch. Der Rucksack landete im Dreck und wirbelte trockene Erde auf. „Was soll das bitte werden, wenn das fertig ist?“ Caleb schenkte den beiden einen kritischen Blick. „Sollten wir nicht zuerst die Zelte aufbauen?“ „Kümmert ihr euch darum“, drängte Fynn und zehrte Leif tiefer in das Dornengestrüpp. Er wusste genau, wo er hintreten musste, um sich nicht zu verletzen. „Das ist nicht fair!“, grummelte Aaron. „Wieso sollen wir die ganze Arbeit machen?“ Fynn musste sich eine Ausrede einfallen lassen. „Müsst ihr nicht“, entgegnete er kurzerhand. „Wir sammeln Feuerholz für ein Lagerfeuer!“ Zwanzig Schritte gerade aus, am morschen Baumstamm zehn Schritte rechts, der erdigen Wand bis zu einem Graben folgen und dann noch fünf Schritte vorwärts. „Vorsicht“, sprach er und hielt Leif einen Ast aus dem Gesicht. „Hier müssen wir kriechen. Ja, genau dort. Zwischen den Zweigen durch, aber zieh deinen Kopf ein.“ „Warum dieser spontane Ausflug?“, fragte Leif. Er kam dicht hinter ihm hervorgekrochen, hatte die Knie Wund vom ganzen Kriechen. „Damit ich dir das hier zeigen kann.“ Fynn führte seinen Freund an den Rand eines Tümpels. Das Sonnenlicht spiegelte sich auf der Oberfläche und verlieh dem Wasser einen goldenen Glanz. Über einen dicht bewachsenen Hang plätscherte ein Wasserfall, kaum vier Meter hoch und zwei Meter breit, herab und schlug winzige Wellen, die sich bis zum Ufer ausbreiteten und die Wassergräser zum Tanzen brachten. Eine goldene Königslibelle ließ sich auf dem Schilf nieder und schaukelte im warmen Sommerwind auf und ab. „Woher?“ Leif blieben die Worte im Halse stecken. Vermutlich war er den Tränen nahe. Der fährt voll auf sowas. „Hab ihn gefunden, als ich noch ein kleiner Junge war“, erklärte Fynn und stülpte das Shirt über den Kopf. „Bin vorm dicken Tom und seinen Diabetisjüngern davongelaufen und bin dabei zufällig auf diesen Ort gestoßen.“ Die kurze Hose und seine Sandalen folgten, sodass er bis auf seine Boxershorts nichts mehr trug. Leif errötete. „Was tust du da?“, fragte er und schaute an ihm herab. Gewiss gefiel ihm der Anblick. Warum auch nicht? Fynn hatte schließlich einiges für diesen Körper getan, hatte einen halben Herbst und einen ganzen Winter geschwitzt, eingeklemmt unter eisernen Gewichten und umgeben von übelriechenden Männern und Frauen. Über die Monate hatte er einen ansehnlichen Brustansatz entwickelt, straff und leicht nach außen gewölbt, wie es sich gehörte. Seine Schultern waren ein wenig breiter geworden, wenngleich sie mit seinen Armen eine große Schwachstelle seines Körpers ausmachten. Immerhin hingen an ihm nicht länger dürre Äste herab, sondern stattliche Arme, von der Größe eines Golfballs, wenn er sie anspannte. Wenigstens hatte er keine Probleme mit Rumpf und Beine. Während sein Rücken die Arme ein wenig zu beiden Seiten wegdrückte, hatte er unterhalb der Brust bereits die Ansätze eines soliden Sixpacks entwickelt. Zugeben war die unterste Reihe noch nicht sichtbar. Dennoch gefiel ihm der Anblick vor dem Spiegel und er wusste, dass auch Leif Gefallen daran gefunden hatte. Auf den Beinen wiederum hatten sich über die vergangenen Monate gut unterscheidbare Muskelsegmente gebildet und ausgerechnet seine kräftigen Waden waren sein ganzer Stolz. „Wonach sieht es denn aus?“, grinste er und streckte und rekelte sich vor seinem Freund. Sieh gut hin. Das alles habe ich für dich getan. „Ich drehe ein paar Runden im Wasser.“ „Du willst echt darin schwimmen?“ Leif schluckte. Der Junge war mit seinen 1.82m ein wenig größer als Fynn, was dieser allerdings auf den Jahresunterschied schob. Während er vergangenen Herbst seinen 16ten Geburtstag gefeiert hatte und fast 17 war, so war ihm Leif ein ganzes Jahr voraus. Als Leif ihm erklärte, dass sie bereits ein Alter erreicht hätten, bei dem sich nicht mehr viel tun würde in dieser Hinsicht, hatte ihn Fynn schmollend ignoriert. „Warum nicht?“, entgegnete Fynn. Vorsichtig tauchte er den Fuß ein und schreckte zurück. Eiskalt. Genau die richtige Temperatur. „Du bist verrückt“, bemerkte Leif. „Nicht verrückt. Nur am Schwitzen.“ Damit stieg Fynn in den Tümpel hinein, fühlte, wie das Wasser ihn allmählich umgab, bis es ihm bis zur Brust reichte. Die Kälte ließ ihn für einen Augenblick erstarren. Sein Herzschlag setzte aus und er vergaß für diesen flüchtigen Moment, dass über ihm die Sonne knallte. „Pass nur auf, dass du dir keinen Sonnenbrand holst.“ „Pass du lieber auf, dass du dir keinen Ständer holst.“ Damit hatte er Leif erwischt. Sofort stieg ihm die Röte ins Gesicht und bald schon leuchtete er wie ein Hummer im Wasserbad. Auch etwas, worin sein Freund ihm Überlegen war. Untenrum war er hart 15cm groß, Leif hingegen 16.5cm. Nicht, dass es ihn störte. Immerhin gab es keinen Wettbewerb zwischen den beiden. Aaron und Caleb hätten sicher einen daraus gemacht. Die beiden verbrachten noch unzählige Stunden am Tümpel. Zuerst zog Fynn seine Runden im Wasser, genoss die erfrischende Kälte, die davon ausging. Danach lagen sie gemeinsam in der Sonne, warteten, bis Fynn einigermaßen getrocknet war, damit er sich wieder einkleiden konnte. Bevor sie zurück zur Lichtung schlichen, füllte Fynn noch zwei Wasserflaschen, die er für die Nacht im Zelt aufbewahren wollte, und verstaute sie sicher in den tiefen Taschen seiner Hose. Als sie wieder zurückkehrten, wurden sie bereits sehnsüchtig von ihren anderen beiden Freunden erwartet. „Ihr lebt ja noch. Siehst du, Aaron, sie wurden nicht von einem Bären gefressen!“ Caleb entspannte auf einem ausgeklappten Campingstuhl und blätterte in einer Zeitschrift über die neuesten Sporttrends. „Haben ja lange genug gebraucht“, grummelte Aaron. Er schlug gerade den letzten Hering des Zeltes fest. In ihrer Abwesenheit hatten sie nicht nur die Steine für ein Lagerfeuer zusammengesucht, sondern auch die drei Zelte aufgebaut und fachgerecht fixiert. „Habt ihr wenigstens an das Feuerholz gedacht?“ Er warf ihnen einen kritischen Blick zu. Fynn und Leifen sahen einander an. Ups. „Das ist ja wohl die Höhe!“, beschwerte sich Aaron. „Lass gut sein“, lachte Caleb sichtlich amüsiert. „Das einzige Holz, das sie wohl in die Hand genommen haben, befindet sich zwischen ihren Beinen.“ Er zwinkerte ihnen zu und ließ sie somit zeitgleich erröten. Am Ende musste Fynn wieder losziehen. Alleine. Leif sollte dableiben und das Abendessen zusammen mit Caleb vorbereiten. Eine notwendige Sicherheitsmaßnahme, nannte er es. Als Fynn wieder zurückkehrte, war die Sonne hinter den Kieferwipfeln verschwunden und hatte den Weg für die Dämmerung freigemacht. Es dauerte ein wenig, bis das Feuer gut geschützt innerhalb der Steine knisterte, doch am Ende brannte es und neben einem Bohneneintopf gab es außerdem eine von Calebs neuen Spezialitäten. „Das Zeug habe ich früher vor jedem Workout verschlungen“, erklärte er ihnen stolz. „Es gibt deinem Körper nicht nur Energie, sondern pumpt dich dazu noch auf. Gibt kein besseres Gefühl!“ Die anderen wussten nicht ganz, was sie von dieser zähen Pampe halten sollten. Nur Fynn war mutig genug, eine Schüssel zu probieren. Er sah es als seine Pflicht, ein Zeichen der Wiedergutmachung, weil die beiden die Zelte ganz ohne ihre Hilfe aufgebaut hatten. Am Ende bereute er es allerdings. Dreißig Minuten saß er auf der Campingtoilette im Busch fest, bevor er endlich zu Leif ins Zelt stoßen konnte. Sein Freund hatte sich bereits umgezogen, hatte Oberteil und Hose abgelegt und lag auf dem Bauch, während er in einem spannenden Reiseführer blätterte. Leif mochte zwar größer als er gewesen sein, doch wirkte sein Körper dadurch auch schlanker und zierlicher. Dank fehlenden Körperfetts zeichneten sich überall drahtige Muskeln ab. Einige waren kräftiger wie seine Beine, was er den vielen Wanderungen zu verdanken hatte. Andere wiederum hätten ein wenig mehr Fülle vertragen können. Dazu gehörten Brust, Schultern und Arme. „Hast du den Toilettenausflug doch noch überlebt?“, fragte Leif und blätterte zur nächsten Seite. Fynn schwieg. Sein Blick lastete auf Leifs Rücken, unter dessen Haut sich die drahtigen Muskeln verformten, wenn Leif den Arm bewegte, um eine lästige Fliege loszuwerden. Der Hintern in der engen Shorts wirkte prall und wohl geformt. Wer soll da widerstehen? Heimlich ließ Fynn die Hose nach unten gleiten und befreite sich zudem von seinem Shirt, bis er lediglich in Unterwäsche dastand. Sein Glied erwachte bereits zum Leben und er wollte sich dem Verlangen nicht länger widersetzen. Gleich einem Tier fiel er über seinen Freund her, schnappte ihm das Buch aus der Hand und legte es behutsam zur Seite. „Das ist aber nicht freundlich“, entgegnete Leif, doch Fynn brachte ihn zum Schweigen, indem er seine Handgelenke umklammert und sein Gemächt über Leifs wohl geformten Hintern rieb. „Genau so wie ich ihn in Erinnerung hatte“, flüsterte Fynn. Er löste den Griff und ließ sich von Leif auf den Rücken wälzen. Verträumt schaute er seinem Freund in die tiefblauen Augen und strich ihm das pechschwarze Haar aus dem Gesicht. Von unten sah er die flache Brust und darunter die bleiche Haut, die sich über sechs gut sichtbare Muskelsegmente spannte. Wenn ich so wenig Fett am Körper hätte, würde ich viel muskulöser aussehen. Er schmunzelte und presste Leif dicht an seine Brust und fühlte, wie auch er allmählich steif wurde. Ihre Körper rieben aneinander. Verspielt zauste er ihm das Haar und schenkte ihm einen langen und innigen Kuss. Schweiß perlte auf seiner Stirn und floss ihm an den Wangen herab, derweil er die Hände um Leifs Hüften lege und zärtlich über seinen Hintern streichelte. Fynn spürte, wie Leifs Finger heimlich an ihm herabstiegen, ihn von oben bis unten abtasteten und schließlich dicht an seiner Unterwäsche anhielten. Bevor Leif allerdings zugreifen konnte, wälzte ihn Fynn zur Seite, sodass nun er oben lag. „Nicht so vorschnell“, keuchte er. „Ach ja?“ Leif grinste schelmisch und umklammerte Fynns Schaft mit der linken Hand. Fynn stöhnte auf. Schweiß floss von seiner Stirn und tropfte von seiner Nasenspitze herab auf die Brust seines Freundes. Der Atem verließ seinen Mund heiß und flach. Er erwischte sich dabei, wie er stöhnte und um jeden Atemzug rang. „Worauf wartest du noch? Nimm mich!“, betonte er schlagartig und es klang nahezu wie ein Befehl. Zunächst schaute ihn Leif stillschweigend an. Eine Hand lag auf Fynns blondem Haar, die andere an seinem Schaft. Dann nickte er. Mit beiden Händen umfasste er den Bund der Boxershorts und entblößte Fynn vollkommen. Wenig später umfassten zwei Hände sein Glied und massierten es mit vollster Konzentration. „Scheiße“, keuchte Fynn und stieß ein zufriedenes Stöhnen aus. Das Herz in seiner Brust begann zu pulsieren, stärker und härter. Ein Paukenschlag, der ihn erweckte. Während überall auf seinem Körper der Schweiß perlte, fühlte er wie eine unglaubliche Hitze in ihm aufstieg. Verdammt. Am Anfang hielt er es für sein Verlangen, den unbändigen Sexualtrieb, den Leif in ihm ausgelöst hatte, aber schon bald wurde die Hitze unerträglich. „Ist alles gut?“ Leif legte seinem Freund die Hand auf die Stirn und erschrak. „Du glühst ja förmlich! Ist es das Essen? Eine Allergie?“ „Nein“, zischte Fynn kurzerhand. „Das ist keine allergische Reaktion. Das ist etwas… anderes.“ Er hielt einen Augenblick inne und horchte den Schlägen seines Herzens, lauschte dem Rauschen seines eigenen Blutes. Fuck. Ein weiterer Herzschlag brachte seinen Körper zum Beben. Etwas an ihm war anders, etwas, das er nie für möglich gehalten hätte. Es geschah zwischen seinen Beinen und lenkte seine und Leifs Aufmerksamkeit auf sich. Zwischen seinen Beinen hing sein Gemächt, vollkommen erhärtet, doch war es nicht länger seines. Nein. Es veränderte sich, pulsierte mit jedem Herzschlag und wuchs, bis es die Marke von 16 und schließlich von 17 Zentimetern übertraf. Kranker Scheiß. Ist das wirklich meiner? Ungläubig führte er die Hand nach unten und stöhnte. Unmöglich. „Hast du das gesehen?“, fragte er und suchte die Zustimmung bei Leif. „Du hast mich überholt“, entgegnete er, die Hände im eigenen Schritt ruhend. Plötzlich riss Fynn die Augen auf. „Fuck. Es passiert schon wieder.“ „Du meinst, er wird noch länger?“ „Nein“, entgegnete Fynn, die Stirn in Falten gelegt. „Diesmal meine ich etwas anderes.“ Die Hitze, die er zuvor in seinem Schritt wahrgenommen hatte, breitete sich nun über seinen gesamten Körper aus. Er fühlte, wie das Blut in seine Arme, seine Beine und seine Brust strömte und ließ ein tiefes und lüsternes Grollen über seine Lippen wandern. Während Leif weiterhin unter ihm lag, merkte er, wie seine Brust allmählich schwerer wurde. Gleich einem Ballon blähte sie sich vor seinen Augen auf, doch wurde sie nicht mit Luft, sondern mit harter Muskelmasse gefüllt. Beinahe zeitgleich regte sich etwas in seinen Armen. Er führte den rechten vor seine Augen, spannte an und staunte, als eine Erhebung von der Größe eines Tennisballs zurückblieb. Auch der Rest seines Körpers blieb von dem plötzlichen Wachstumsschub nicht verschont. Er kämpfte mit dem Gleichgewicht, während sein Rücken allmählich anschwoll, während seine Arme zu den Seiten hin weggedrückt und seine Schultern praller und härter wurden. Danach folgten seine Beine. Neben den ohnehin schon sichtbaren Muskelsegmenten gesellten sich weitere dazu, nur um von den Hauptgruppen verschlungen zu werden. Schließlich dauerte das Schauspiel keine fünf Minuten, doch in dieser kurzen Zeit hatte sich sein Körper erheblich verändert. Weiterhin ungläubig wandte Fynn den eigenen Arm vor den Augen, betrachtete Bizeps und Trizeps, spannte die Muskeln an und grinste gleich einem Jungen an Weihnachten als er erkannte, dass dies wirklich seine Muskeln waren. „Hatte wohl einen späten Wachstumsschub.“ Fynn richtete sich allmählich auf. Er taumelte von einem Bein auf das andere, bis er im Zelt kniete. Sein neuer Körper fühlte sich fremd, wenngleich nicht weniger aufregend an. „Du hast nen verdammtes Sixpack!“, staunte Leif und kniete sich ebenfalls hin. Nen Sixpack? Voller Aufregung schaute Fynn an sich herab. Verdammt. Das soll mich doch der Blitz beim Scheißen treffen. Genüsslich ließ er seine Finger über sechs perfekt getrennte Segmente wandern, spannte seinen Bauch an und fühlte, wie sich die Muskeln darunter bewegten. „Wenn ich es nicht besser wüsste, würde das für nen verdammten Traum halten.“ „Mir soll’s recht sein“, entgegnete Leif und trat näher an ihn ran. „Hauptsache dieser Traum findet kein Ende.“ Sein Freund tastete ihn gierig mit den Augen ab, betrachtete die volle Brust, die breiten Schultern, das Sixpack, das Gemächt, das zum Bachnabel aufragte und die pulsierenden Beine. „Caleb und du sollten im Flexen gegeneinander antreten und sehen, wer die größeren Muskeln hat.“ Fynn schmunzelte. Die Idee gefiel ihm. Dennoch wollte er zunächst etwas anderes machen. Wild wie ein Tier packte er Leif an den Schultern und presste ihn dicht an sich heran. „Wo waren wir stehen geblieben?“, flüstere er und schenkte ihm einen innigen Kuss. Zum ersten Mal merkte er, dass sie gleich groß waren. Mit diesem Wachstumsschub hatte er seinen Freund eingeholt. Fünf verdammte Zentimeter. Leif schien der Anblick ebenfalls zu gefallen. „Ich wüsste da etwas, das dir gefallen könnte.“ Zugleich glitt er an ihm herab. Seine Hände, warm und glitschig vom Schweiß, umklammerte sein Gemächt und ließen ihn aufstöhnen. Die eigenen Hände zausten liebevoll durch Leifs kurzes Haar, führten ihn näher an sich heran, tiefer in seinen Schritt, bis die Lippen des Jungens ihn vollkommen aufnahmen. Kapitel 2: Fynn kicherte. „Nicht“, murmelte er. „Nicht an den Füßen.“ Das Kitzeln ließ nicht nach. Anfänglich hielt er es für einen von Leifs Scherzen. Schläfrig öffnete er die Augen. Der Junge lag weiterhin neben ihm, hatte den Arm über seine Brust gelegt und schnarchte ausgiebig. Verunsichert lugte Fynn über die eigene Brust, schaute über die ungewohnt kräftigen Muskeln hinweg. Zwischen seinen Füßen raschelte etwas. Ein Büschel rotes Fell huschte an seinem dicken Zeh vorbei und hatte seinen Kopf im Rucksack vergraben. Danach folgte ein flauschiger Schweif. Fluffig wie ein Pinsel, wedelte er von der einen zur anderen Seite. Zwei spitz zulaufende Ohren zuckten, als Fynn sich aufzurichten versuchte. Der Eindringling befreite den Kopf aus dem Rucksack und hielt einen halb geöffneten Müsliriegel zwischen den Zähnen. Beinahe zeitgleich schrien die beiden auf. Der Fuchs stürzte nach vorne, verpasste Fynn einen deftigen Schlag ins Gesicht und flüchte durch das halb geöffnete Zelt. Fynn folgte ihm, das Herz rasend vor Schreck. „Es hat mich gebissen!“, rief er und der Wald erwachte dank seiner Stimme. Noch sah er das feurig rote Tier zwischen den Zelten umherhuschen, dann hatte es sich auch bereits in einem der anliegenden Büsche davongestohlen. Dem großen Tumult schloss sich eine neugierige Krähe an, die in den Resten ihres Lagerfeuers pickte, und den Kopf fragwürdig zur Seite drehte. Danach stocherte sie weiter in der erkalteten Asche herum. „Was hat dich gebissen? Etwa dein Freund?“ Aaron kam aus seinem Zelt hervor. Das dichte braune Haar stand in alle Richtungen ab. Über die Nacht hatte er in Unterwäsche und Unterhemd geschlafen. Die fehlenden Ärmel stellten seine gut gebräunten Arme gut zur Schau. Er war ein wenig kräftiger, wenngleich pummeliger als Leif. So befand er sich auf einer Skala in etwa zwischen seinem Freund und ihm selbst. Das war allerdings vor seinem unerwarteten Wachstumsschub gewesen. Jetzt trennten sie mehr als nur ein paar Muskeln voneinander. Fynn tastete vorsichtig über die blutigen Kratzspuren, die der Fuchs auf seiner Wange zurückgelassen hatte und stieß einen Fluch aus. Brennt fürchterlich. „Das solltest du behandeln lassen“, gähnte Aaron und rieb sich den Morgensand aus den Augen. „Das und… heilige Scheiße. Was ist denn mit dir passiert?!“ Plötzlich hatte Aaron die Augen weit aufgerissen. Seine Blicke tasteten Fynns Körper ab, wanderten über seine Brust, das Sixpack und schließlich weiter nach unten. „Also bei der letzten Dusche hattest du noch nicht so ein Monsterteil.“ Verunsichert schaute Fynn an sich herab. Fuck. Er war nackt wie an dem Tage seiner Geburt, war wohl so eingeschlafen als er und Leif endlich fertig geworden waren und hatte die Kleider im Zelt zurückgelassen. Sofort führte er die Hände schützend nach unten, um zu verbergen, was er zu verbergen vermochte. „Wie viel Zentimeter sind das?“, fragte Aaron neugierig. „17? 17,5?“ „Aaron!“ Fynn hielt das nicht länger aus. Die Röte schoss ihm ins Gesicht. „Nein ernsthaft!“, beharrte Aaron. „Wenn Leifs Mund solche Wunder wirken kann, dann, verzeih mir, aber dann soll er sich gerne auch mal an mir vergreifen. Ich hab euch letzte Nacht gehört und den Geräuschen nach, müsst ihr nen Riesenspaß gehabt haben.“ Das war zu viel für ihn. Mehr konnte er nicht ertragen. Zugleich kehrte ihm Fynn den Rücken zu. Ein Fehler. „Schau sich einer diesen verdammten Rücken an! Verdammt! Warte, bis Caleb davon erfährt!“ Caleb? Auf gar keinen Fall. „Nein!“, schnaubte Fynn kurzerhand und wandte sich um. Er machte einige Schritte auf Aaron zu, bis er direkt vor ihm stand. Seit gestern war er gut zwei Zentimeter größer als sein Gegenüber. „Caleb darf unter keinen Umständen davon erfahren. Nicht heute. Nicht morgen. Niemals.“ „Aber warum denn nicht?“ Aaron legte ihm die Hand auf die Schulter und Fynn fühlte, wie der Junge heimliche die Festigkeit seiner Muskeln überprüfte. „Stell es dir doch nur einmal vor! Ihr könntet euch gegenseitig befühlen, eure Muskeln vergleichen und ich könnte Bilder davon machen!“ Zum Beweis holte er eine Fotokamera hervor, ein Geschenk seines Vaters, dass er vor ihrem Ausflug bekommen hatte, machte einen Schritt nach hinten und drückte auf den Auslöser. Knips. Der Blitz blendete Fynn und ließ ihn für einen flüchtigen Augenblick vergessen, wo er war. „Ein gutes Fotomotiv bist du schon mal.“ Aaron grinste schelmisch. „Was ist denn das? Hast wohl Gefallen an meinem Vorschlag gefunden.“ „Was ist bloß falsch bei dir?“, protestierte Fynn. Zwar mochte er sich unbeeindruckt zeigen, sein Gemächt erweckte bei dem Gedanken daran, dass jemand seine Muskeln befühlen und mit Calebs kräftigen Körper vergleichen könne, zum Leben. „Ich habe genug davon.“ „Was denn?“, entgegnete Aaron. „Ich bin nicht splitterfasernackt aus meinem Zelt gekommen, um meinen Körper der Natur zu präsentieren.“ „Willst du etwa sagen, ich wäre schuld?“ „Wenn du dir schon nichts anziehst, könntest du mir wenigstens verraten, wie ihr das gemacht habt.“ Geduldig wartete Aaron auf eine Antwort. Warte meinetwegen, bis du umfällst. Von mir wirst du nichts erfahren. „Sei einfach still“, knurrte Fynn. Er wollte durch die Öffnung ins Zelt zurückkehren, als ihm Leif entgegenkam. Unter dem Arm hatte er Fynns Anziehsachen eingeklemmt, eine luftige und sommerliche Shorts, ein weites Shirt, das er normalerweise zum Sport anzog und beim Wandern durch die Wälder tragen wollte, und rabenschwarze Unterwäsche. „Was ist passiert?“, fragte er verschlafen und reichte ihm die Sachen. „Hab dich schreien gehört und als ich nachsehen wollte, warst du bereits draußen.“ „Nichts ist passiert“, grummelte Fynn. Beim Gedanken daran, dass er sich wegen einem niedlichen Fuchs beinahe vor Schreck eingenässt hätte, stieg ihm die Röte ins Gesicht. Da habe ich schon an Körpergröße dazugewonnen und führe mich immer noch auf wie ein kleines Kind, das nachts nicht alleine einschlafen kann. Er griff dankend nach seinen Klamotten und schlüpfte zunächst in die Unterwäsche. Leif hatte ausgerechnet ein Stück aus seiner enganliegenden Kollektion ausgewählt. Zum ersten Mal spürte er, dass er auch im Bereich des Hinterns ein wenig an Muskelmasse gewonnen hatte, denn die Unterwäsche zwickte bei jedem Schritt. Außerdem half sie nicht wirklich dabei, sein Gemächt zu verbergen. Die Konturen zeichneten sich deutlich ab. Sowohl Aaron als auch Leif schienen die Wahl der Unterwäsche allerdings zu befürworten. „Offensichtlich ist etwas passiert“, bemerkte Aaron und wandte sich an Leif. „Du hast irgendetwas gemacht, was den kleinen Fynn in einen größeren Fynn verwandelt hat.“ Spricht er von mir oder meinem Penis? Leif schenkte Fynn einen verunsicherten Blick. „Weiß er es etwa?“ „Leif, schau mich an. Jeder, der mich länger als ein Jahr kennt, wird den Unterschied merken. Vor allem, wenn ich nackt vor ihm stehe. Ein Glück, dass du die extra weiten Klamotten ausgewählt hast.“ Fynn zwängte sich in das Shirt und zog es über der Brust straff. Es saß ein wenig enger, seit dem letzten Mal, doch hing es weiterhin lose an den Schultern herab. Solange ich keinen weiteren Wachstumsschub habe, sollte sich zumindest Caleb davon täuschen lassen. Der war ohnehin noch nie der hellste. „So ihr beiden, Schluss mit den Lügen.“ Aaron verschränkte die Arme vor der Brust. „Ich möchte die Wahrheit. Die ganze Wahrheit. Was ist gestern Nacht in diesem Zelt passiert? Warum sieht Fynn fast wie Aaron aus und vor allem, was hat es mit diesem Monsterteil zwischen seinen Beinen auf sich?“ Fynn seufzte. „Du lässt nicht locker, was?“ Er wagte einen Blick auf Calebs Zelt. „Was ist mit ihm?“ „Der?“ Aaron zuckte mit den Schultern. „Der ist seit gut zwanzig Minuten wach und rennt durch den Wald. Seine morgendliche Routine, falls du dich erinnerst. Wegen ihm musst du dir keine Sorgen machen.“ Gemütlich nahm er auf einem ausklappbaren Stuhl Platz und schlug das linke Bein über das andere Knie. „Also? Ich warte.“ „Wir sollten ihm die Wahrheit sagen“, sprach Leif und schaute ihm mit kugelrunden Augen entgegen. Welche Wahrheit, dachte Fynn. Wir wissen doch selber nichts. Und selbst wenn… was will er dann machen? Gerade Typen wie Aaron neigen zur Übertreibung in dieser Hinsicht. Fynn erinnerte sich daran, wie ein Junge Aaron einst gesagt hatte, vom Dreck fressen werde man schlau. Leichtgläubig wie Aaron damals war, hatte er beinahe einen ganzen Eimer voller Erde verschlungen, bevor ihm so übel geworden war, dass er gleich drei Tage im Bett verbracht hatte. Und trotzdem werde ich nicht drum herumkommen. Wieder seufzte Fynn. „Na schön. Aber viel wissen wir auch nicht.“ Also nahmen Fynn und Leif neben ihm Platz und erzählte ihm von ihrem gestrigen Tag. Sie berichteten vom Müsliriegel von der Tankstelle, von ihrem Spaziergang zum Tümpel, den Spielen in der Sonne und dem vergangenen Abendessen. Ein Wort schien dabei Aarons Verdacht zu wecken. „Du glaubst, es könnte an Calebs speziellem Proteinmahl liegen?“, überlegte Fynn und verschränkte die Arme hinter dem Kopf. „Möglich wäre es.“ „Ich halte es für unwahrscheinlich“, entgegnete Leif. „Denkt doch mal nach. Aaron futtert dieses Zeug bestimmt schon seit unzähligen Jahren und sieht trotzdem nicht wie ein Berg aus. Du aber hast bloß eine Schüssel gegessen und schätzungsweise fünf Kilo an Muskelmasse dazugewonnen.“ Deshalb bist du der schlaue von uns beiden. „Mein Freund hat Recht“, stimmte er zu. „Und was ist, wenn es nur einmal funktioniert? Was, wenn die Wirkung über die Zeit nachlässt? Keiner von uns weiß, wie Caleb vorher ausgesehen hat.“ Aaron hielt weiterhin an dem Gedanken fest. „Vielleicht war er einst so ein Dünnling wie Leif hier.“ Er schenkte ihm einen flüchtigen Blick, um sich zu entschuldigen. „Wir können erst sicher sein, wenn wir es ausprobiert haben.“ „Und was schlägst du vor?“ Caleb kam aus einem der Gebüsche gerannt. Das feurige Haar hatte er mit einem Stirnband fixiert und trotzdem hing es ihm dank des Schweißes träge ins Gesicht. In seinen eisigen Augen lag ein zufriedener Schimmer. „Was soll die ernste Stimmung?“, fragte er und streckte sich ein wenig. Das Muskelshirt spannte sich über seine Brust und gab die unterste Reihe seines Sixpacks frei. Die Arme waren aufgebläht. Offenbar hatte er neben dem Laufen noch einige andere Übungen absolviert. Sexy wie eh und je. In diesem Moment wurde sich Fynn abermals bewusst, wie viel trotz der vergangenen Nacht noch zwischen ihm und Caleb fehlte. Den werde ich nie aufholen. „Wo ist denn hier bitte eine ernste Stimmung.“ Aaron sprang auf und zwinkerte Fynn zu. „Wir haben uns gerade nur gefragt, ob noch etwas von deinem Spezialessen übrig ist.“ Calebs Augen leuchteten wie zwei Sterne. „Wer hat das gefragt?“ „Nun… Leif… jap, Leif hat das gefragt.“ „Hab ich nicht“, protestierte Leif. „Hat er doch“, entgegnete Aaron. Er schlich an Caleb vorbei und kniete sich hin, damit er direkt in Leifs Ohren flüstern konnte. „Hör zu. Du bist der schmächtigste von uns allen. Fynn hat bereits von dem Zeug gekostet. Ich mag zwar nicht wirklich Muskeln haben, bin aber immer noch kräftiger als du. Wenn wir sicher sein wollen, dass das Zeug wirkt, brauchen wir ein Versuchskaninchen.“ „Ich will aber…“ Caleb hielt ihm eine Schüssel voller zähem Schleim vor den Mund. Der Gestank brachte den Junge beinahe zum Übergeben. „Hätte ich gewusst, dass du auch was davon willst, hätte ich gleich nen ganzen Topf gemacht!“, grinste Caleb. „Der kleine Leif will endlich groß und stark werden. Wenn du willst, zeige ich dir nachher mal ein paar Übungen.“ „Ich glaube nicht…“ Leif bekam den ersten Löffel in den Mund geschoben. Es war Aaron, der ihn führte. „Der kleine Leif ist überwältig von deiner Großzügigkeit und würde gerne ein paar Übungen sehen, doch zunächst solltest du dich wohl waschen gehen.“ Aaron kniff die Nase zu. „Du riechst wie ein Affe.“ „Das ist Geruch der Männlichkeit“, prahlte Caleb. „Aber vermutlich hast du recht.“ Er stülpte das Muskelshirt über den Kopf und gab eine pralle Brust und ein perfektes Sixpack frei. Was ein Adonis Belt. Fynn erwischte sich dabei, wie er hart wurde. Breite Schultern, starkes Kreuz und kräftige Beine. Der perfekte Körperbau. Vielleicht hätte ein oder zwei Kilo mehr in der gestrigen Nacht nicht geschadet. „Wenn du willst, darfst du dich nachher anschließen.“ Caleb hatte bemerkt, dass Fynn ihn angestarrte und ließ seine Brustmuskeln zucken. „Wenn ich dich so ansehe, scheinst du allerdings nicht mehr allzu weit davon entfernt. Hast wohl doch ein wenig mehr trainiert, als ich in Erinnerung hatte.“ Er lächelte und verschwand in seinem Zelt. Sofort spuckte Leif den Brei wieder aus. „Das ist ja widerlich“, krächzte er. „Und dennoch wirst du alles davon essen müssen“, betonte Aaron kritisch. „Wirklich alles?“ Leif suchte Hilfe bei seinem Freund. Fynn verspürte unglaubliches Mitleid. Dennoch blieb er eisern. „Du wirst die Schüssel zum Wohle der Wissenschaft aufessen müssen“, lächelte er und zauste ihm das Haar. „Tu es für mich.“ Für einen kurzen Moment hielt Leif inne. Er starrte in die Schüssel als laure dort das größte Übel der Menschheit. Dann seufzte er und verzehrte widerstrebe den nächsten Löffel. „Ich werde Wasser brauchen, eine ganze Menge Wasser.“ „Dann sollst du meins haben.“ Fynn verschwand im Zelt und kam mit zwei Wasserflaschen zurück. „Frisches Wasser aus dem Quell der Natur.“ Er reichte seinem Freund die Flaschen und sah zu, wie dieser die erste in einem Zug leerte. Er lächelte unschuldig. „Vielleicht sollte ich noch ein paar Flaschen holen.“ Kapitel 3: Vier prall gefüllte Wasserflaschen später hatte Leif den letzten Löffel zäher Pampe hinuntergeschluckt. Das Gesicht des Jungen war kreidebleich angelaufen, die Augen hinter der Brille von solch einer Leere erfüllt, dass es Fynn fast Unbehagen bereitete. „Ich werde mich ein wenig hinlegen und ausruhen, wenn es euch recht ist“, hatte Leif ihnen mitgeteilt und war zittrig und schwach von seinem Stuhl aufgestanden und auf allen Vieren zurück ins Zelt gekrochen. „Ruf uns, wenn du irgendetwas spürst“, hatte Aaron lediglich entgegnet und Fynn hatte ihm dafür einen Schlag auf den Hinterkopf verpasst. „Du hättest ein wenig mehr Rücksicht zeigen können.“ Er hockte neben Aaron am Fluss, lauschte dem sanften Rauschen und den Schatten, die durch das Wasser huschten. „Immerhin hat er das Ganze nur deinetwegen getan.“ Aaron zeigte sich keiner Schuld bewusst. Er zupfte an der Angelschnur und gähnte verschlafen. Für heute hatte er einen entspannenden Angelausflug geplant, wollte tagsüber in der Sonne schmoren und am Abend ein paar leckere Fische braten. „Tu nicht so, als würde es dich nicht auch interessieren“, erklärte er und betrachtete aufmerksam sein Spiegelbild in der Wasseroberfläche. Eine Libelle schwirrte über das kühle Nass, ließ sich auf einem Grashalm nieder und wippte sachte im Wind. „Wenn Calebs Zeug tatsächlich der Grund für deinen spontanen Wachstumsschub ist, wirst auch du profitieren. Stell es dir einmal vor: Dein Freund mit Muskeln. Du hättest einen sanftmütigen Muskelriesen. Du kannst mir nicht erzählen, dass dich das kalt lässt.“ Tat es nicht. Allein der Gedanke daran, erweckte seine Männlichkeit. Nach allem hatte Fynn seinen Freund schon mehrfach dazu gedrängt, ein wenig Gewicht zuzulegen. Leider hatte Leif kein wirkliches Interesse an gusseisernen Gewichten und verschwitzten Trainingsgeräten. Aber ihn deswegen gleich so zu überrumpeln? Nachdenklich zeichnete Fynn einige Kreise im Dreck, nutzte dazu einen hauchdünnen Zweig, der entzweibrach. „Vielleicht habe ich vorhin ein wenig übertrieben.“ Aaron griff nach seinem Shirt und tupfte sich damit die schweißgetränkte Brust trocken. Bis auf die Unterhose hatte er all seine Kleider abgelegt, um möglichst viel von der Sonne abzukriegen. Anders als er und Leif, überzog Aarons Körper eine feine und dennoch deutlich sichtbare Fettschicht, die ihm weichere Konturen verlieh. Gewiss besaß der Junge auch einige Muskelansätze. Seine Arme zum Beispiel wirkten kräftig und solide. Wenn er sie anwinkelte, um die Angelschnur ein wenig einzuholen, zeichneten sich darauf weiche Schatten ab und hoben die Muskeln dadurch hervor. „Mein ganzes Leben lang versuche ich jetzt schon, Muskeln aufzubauen“, erklärte Aaron. „Hab’s mit Gewichten versucht, mit Elektroschocks, Maschinen, Calisthenics und sogar drei Monate lang mit Caleb trainiert. Nichts. Mein Arzt meint, es läge an einer Störung meines Hormonhaushalts, hat mir deshalb sogar schon Testosteron verschrieben. Hat aber auch nicht wirklich geholfen.“ Er lächelte und erschrak, als der Köder im Wasser verschwand. Sofort schnappte er nach der Angelroute und begann, heftig gegen die Strömung und den Fisch anzukämpfen. „Komm schon!“, schnaubte er. Für einen flüchtigen Augenblick zeigte sich der Fisch, indem er einen großen Sprung aus dem Wasser machte. Seine Schuppen glänzten wie ein Panzer aus reinem Gold. Als das Tier wieder eintauchte, spritzte es Wasser in alle Richtungen. „Verdammt nochmal“, krächzte Aaron. Schweiß perlte auf seinem ganzen Körper und verlieh den zitternden Muskeln darunter ein kräftigeres Aussehen. „Vielleicht solltest du…“ Fynn wollte eine Warnung aussprechen, als Aaron nach vorne kippte. Noch im selben Augenblick stürzte Fynn nach vorne, schloss die Arme um Aarons Rücken und umklammerte die Angelroute mit seinen kräftigen Händen. „Ist ein bisschen hartnäckiger“, schnaubte Aaron. „Du bist ein Idiot“, entgegnete Fynn unbeeindruckt. „Lass. Einfach. Los!“ Seine eigenen Muskeln blähten sich auf. Das Biest war zäh und kräftig, nutzte die Flussströmung zu seinem eigenen Vorteil. Kein gewöhnlicher Fisch besitzt solch brachiale Kräfte. „Lass ein wenig nach!“, forderte Aaron. „Jetzt wieder ziehen. Nicht nach rechts. Nach links! Ihm folgen und im richtigen Moment gegenwirken. Jetzt einholen. Vorsichtig. Nicht zu schnell!“ Abermals schoss der Fisch aus dem Wasser hervor und diesmal stürzte Aaron nach vorne, um ihn aus der Luft zu schnappen. Will der mich verarschen? Zwar hielt Aaron den Fisch letztlich tatsächlich in den Händen, doch wäre er deswegen auch fast in den Fluss gestürzt. Einzig und allein Fynn hatte er es zu verdanken, dass er nicht fortgespült wurde. Der Junge umklammerte Aarons Bauch und zog ihn mit einem Ruck zurück ans Ufer. Beide fielen nach hinten und landeten im Gras. Neben ihnen lag das Untier. Ein Fisch von der Größe eines halben Haies mit Schuppen so rein wie poliertes Gold. Zähne wie Messerspitzen ragten aus dem Maul hervor und wuchsen in alle Richtungen. Die Flossen zappelten wild umher, während es um Luft rang, aber letztlich gab es den Überlebenskampf auf und badete nunmehr im Sonnenlicht. „Knappe Sache“, lächelte Aaron. „Da hätte es mich doch glatt umgerissen.“ Weiterhin ruhte er auf Fynns Körper, hatte den eigenen Kopf auf dessen Brust aufgelegt und lauschte offenbar dem Herz, das darin vor Aufregung trommelte. Eine Hand hatte sich offenbar unter sein Shirt verloren, denn die feuchten Finger tasteten neugierig über seine Bauchmuskulatur und wanderten an ihm herauf. „Was wird das?“ Fynn warf ihm einen kritischen Blick zu und fühlte plötzlich, wie Aaron in seine Brustwarze kniff. „Bist du verrückt geworden?“, keuchte Fynn. „Es fühlt sich sogar noch besser an als es aussieht.“ Sabber floss an Aarons Lippen herab. „So kräftig und so hart. Wie ein Fels.“ Beide seiner Hände hatten sich inzwischen unter Fynns Shirt gestohlen und krempelten es ein wenig zurück, um die erste Reihe harter Bauchmuskeln zu offenbaren. Die Spitze seines Gemächts lugte allmählich unter dem Hosenbund hervor und wuchs in die Länge, während er erhärtete. „Nicht“, keuchte Fynn. Schweiß perlte auf seiner Stirn. Sein Herz schlug schneller und schneller. Was tut dieser Idiot da? Aarons Augen fanden sein Glied. „Ich sollte nicht“, sprach er beinahe hypnotisiert. „Sollte es nicht anfassen.“ Seine Finger strichen zärtlich über die Unterwäsche und zogen die Konturen nach. Fynn stöhnte. „Und trotzdem möchte ich es in die Finger nehmen. Ich möchte die Männlichkeit darin pulsieren spüren.“ Seine Finger griffen zu und Fynn erwachte. Mit einem Mal stieß er Aaron zur Seite. Der Junge plumpste auf den Rasen und landete geradewegs neben seinem Fisch. „Verzeih“, sprach er und schaute ihm dabei nicht in die Augen. „Ich weiß auch nicht, was in mich gefahren ist. Es ist nur… dieser Körper… seitdem du diesen Wachstumsschub hattest, wirkst du plötzlich so unwiderstehlich.“ Aaron starrte absichtlich zwischen die Füße. Er schämt sich, erkannte Fynn kurzerhand. Er schämt sich wegen seinem Verhalten, wegen seinem Aussehen, wegen dem zwischen seinen Beinen. Fynn kam nicht drumherum, Aarons mächtigen Ständer zu bemerken. Vollkommen erregt stand er ihm in nichts nach, nicht einmal nachdem er in der gestrigen Nacht gewachsen war. Zwar mochte es Aaron an Muskeln fehlen, trotzdem führte er dort ein stolzes Biest zwischen den Beinen. „Würdest du mir…“ Aaron hielt einen Augenblick inne. „Würdest du mir trotzdem mit dem Fisch helfen? Ich kann ihn nicht alleine kochen, würde euch aber gerne einen Gefallen tun.“ „Den willst du kochen?“ Fynn schaute das Ungetüm an und schüttelte den Kopf. Aaron aber war voller Begeisterung. „Natürlich!“, entgegnete er kurzangebunden. „Noch nie etwas von Aarons speziellem Fischeintopf gehört?“ Fynn schwieg. „Na dann wird es aber höchste Zeit. Komm, ich zeige dir, wie man einen Fisch filetiert.“ Der Junge stand wieder aufrecht und vergaß dabei, das Ungetüm zwischen seinen Beinen. „K-könntest du dir vorher etwas überziehen?“ Wenngleich Fynn bereits einiges gesehen hatte, trieb ihn der Anblick von Aarons Gemächt, wie es direkt vor seinem Gesicht pulsierte, die Röte ins Gesicht. „Warum kümmerst du dich nicht darum, während ich deine Brust massieren?“ Aaron grinste schelmisch, brach daraufhin aber umgehend in lautes Gelächter aus. „Mache nur Spaß. Warte kurz.“ Natürlich macht er Spaß, dachte Fynn und schaute Aaron hinterher. Das macht er immer. Warum erregt es mich dann so sehr? Den Rest des Tages verbrachten Fynn und Aaron damit, den Fischeintopf vorzubereiten. Sie entfernten gemeinsam die Schuppen, schnitten das kostbare Fleisch in feine Stücke, nachdem Aaron ihm gezeigt hatte, wie man die Gräten mit einer feinen Pinzette herauszog. Den Fisch würzte er lediglich mit ein wenig Salz und Pfeffer, schnitt dazu ein paar Pilze und Kartoffeln und ließ das ganze dann eine Stunde über dem Feuer kochen. Danach riefen sie alle zusammen. Leif blieb allerdings im Zelt und vertröstete sie lediglich. Wenn es ihm besserginge, würde er sich eine Schüssel nehmen. Selbst Caleb blieb nur kurz und aß viel lieber etwas von seiner zähen Pampe. „Einen Fisch rühre ich nicht an“, sagte er und schüttelte angewidert den Kopf. „Schmecken bestimmt genauso wie sie riechen. Widerlich.“ Hast du mal an deiner eigenen Pampe gerochen? Während Fynn selber nur einen kleinen Bissen riskierte und schnell merkte, dass ihm Monstermakrele nicht schmeckte, verschlang Aaron den halben Eintopf. „Nichts schmeckt besser als die Frucht eigener, harter Arbeit.“ Er lachte und klopfte sich auf den prall gefüllten Bauch. Danach lauschten sie noch ein wenig den spannenden Geschichten, die Caleb ihnen zu erzählen hatte. Angeblich war er auf seinen sportlichen Wanderungen durch den Wald an einer baufälligen Hängebrücke vorbeigekommen. „Die meisten Holzstreben waren herausgebrochen, sonst wäre ich ja drüber gestiegen“, erzählte er enttäuscht. „Auf der anderen Seite hab ich ne hübsche Hütte gesehen. Was meint ihr? Ob es noch einen anderen Weg über den Fluss gibt?“ „Warum sollte dich das überhaupt interessieren?“ Aaron schleckte die letzten Fischreste aus seiner Schüssel, bevor er sie in einem Wasserbad versenkte. „Warum nicht?“, entgegnete Caleb. „Wenn das Abenteuer ruft, muss ein echter Mann folgen. Du stimmst mir doch zu, oder Fynn?“ Fynn schwieg. „Fynn?“ „Hm?“ Er hob den Kopf. Hat er mich was gefragt? Die ganze Zeit musste er an Leif und diesen übelriechenden Proteinbrei denken. Nicht, dass er sich ne Lebensmittelvergiftung eingefangen hat. „Wisst ihr“, sprach er schließlich und stand auf. „Ich werde mich bereits zurückziehen. Leif scheint es nicht gut zu gehen und ich würde ihm gerne noch ein bisschen Gesellschaft leisten.“ „Der wird schon wieder“, bemerkte Caleb. „Nach seinem ersten Bissen, lag mein Bruder auch erstmal für nen paar Tage flach.“ Ein paar Tage? Was zum Teufel hast du uns vorgesetzt? Fynn musste sich unbedingt nochmal bei seinem Freund entschuldigen. Hätte er gewusst, dass Caleb sie zu vergiften versuchte, er hätte ihn niemals dazu gedrängt, auch nur einen Löffel in den Mund zu nehmen. Hastig öffnete er den Reisverschluss des Zeltes und schritt herein. Im Inneren war die Luft muffig und stank nach Schweiß. Ein einsames Lämpchen brannte in der hinteren Ecke und schien auf Leifs Gesicht. Der Junge war kreidebleich und hatte sich vollkommen in den Schlafsack zurückgezogen. Schweiß perlte auf seiner Stirn und verlief zwischen den einzelnen Falten. „Wie geht es dir?“, fragte Fynn und zog das Zelt hinter sich zu. „Echt beschissen“, keuchte Leif. „Mein Körper fühlt sich an, als würde er jeden Augenblick in Flammen aufgehen und ich weiß nicht, aber… ich glaube, wir sollten deinen Vater anrufen.“ „Wieso denn das?“ Fynn ging neben seinem Freund nieder und strich ihm das feuchte Haar aus dem Gesicht. „Soll ich dir Wasser bringen? Vielleicht hilft eine Abkühlung?“ „Das meine ich nicht“, entgegnete Leif. Röte stieg ihm ins Gesicht. „Was denn dann?“ „Warte. Ich zeig’s dir.“ Daraufhin richtete Leif allmählich den Oberkörper auf. Die Decke glitt ihm von den Schultern und gab die weiterhin schmale Statur seines Freundes preis: Eine drahtige Brust, knochige Schultern und dünne Arme. Also hat es nicht gewirkt. Das alles umsonst. Fynn ärgerte sich über seine eigene Naivität, doch vielmehr ärgerte er sich, dass er seinen Freund zu solch einer Dummheit gezwungen hatte. Er wollte es nicht. Und trotzdem haben wir ihn dazu gedrängt. „Bitte erschrick nicht“, sprach sein Freund und zog die Decke von seinen Beinen. Fynn weitete die Augen. Zum Vorschein kam Leifs Gemächt, ein pulsierendes Biest, dass steif gegen seinen Bauch schlug und knapp unter der Brust stoppte. Es maß eine halbe Armlänge und war auch beinahe so breit wie einer. Mit jedem Herzschlag schien es zum Leben zu erwachen. Das verstehe ich nicht. Fynn beugte sich nach vorne und betrachtete die glühende Spitze. Wieso ist seiner fast 40 cm lang? Was hat er gemacht? „Du solltest ihm besser nicht zu nahekommen.“ Leif lächelte verlegen, ein Lächeln, das bald verschwunden war. Stattdessen stieß er ein Stöhnen aus und blies heiße Luft durch seine Nasenlöcher. „Scheiße“, hauchte er. Seine Hände umklammerten sein Gemächt, umfassten den Schaft und ließen die Adern darauf anschwellen. „Es fängt schon wieder an…“ Fynn traute seinen Augen nicht, als der Schaft seines Freundes einen weiteren Zentimeter an Länge gewann. Etwas tief in seinem Inneren wollte zugreifen und den Wachstumsschub am eigenen Leib erfahren. Er selbst war binnen weniger Sekunden hart geworden und zupfte an dem Stoff seiner Shorts. Scheiße man. Was tue ich hier? Mein eigener Freund hat ein Monsterteil, das selbst einen Stier vor Neid erblassen lassen würde und ich fasste mir zwischen den eigenen Schritt? Bin ich verrückt geworden? Seine Finger berührten den Kopf von Leifs Gemächt. „Nicht“, hauchte der Junge und stöhnte auf. Es glüht förmlich und trotzdem… seine Hände umschlossen den Schaft und spürten das Blut darin kochen. So… groß. Leif legte derweil den Kopf in den Nacken. „Ich habe nie darum gebeten.“ Tränen flossen an seinen Augen herab und vermengten sich mit dem Schweiß, der ihm auf die Brust tropfte. Überall auf seinem Körper glitzerte der Schweiß. Die drahtigen Muskeln darunter kamen zum Vorschein. Die Haut spannte sich straff darüber und hatte eine feurige Farbe angenommen. Ich habe ihn noch nie so angespannt gesehen. Gefällt es ihm oder hat er Schmerzen? Plötzlich erkannte Fynn, dass Leif vor einem weiteren Wachstumsschub stand. Diesmal allerdings betraf es nicht sein Glied, sondern den Rest seines Körpers. „Ich will das nicht“, schluchzte Leif. „Psssh.“ Fynn versuchte ihn zu beruhigen. „Wehre dich nicht dagegen.“ Er selbst stülpte das Shirt über den Kopf und präsentierte Leif seinen neuen Körper. Zärtlich strich er über dessen Arm, fühlte die Schweißperlen darauf kondensieren und das Blut darunter kochen. Dann, ganz sachte und langsam, führte er Leifs Hand auf seine Brust, ließ die zittrigen Finger über die Muskeln wandern und zudrücken. „Sag mir, fühlt sich das nicht gut an?“ Er schaute seinem Freund tief in die blauen Augen und führte die Hand weiter nach unten, wo sie die oberste Reihe seines Sixpacks traf. Leif schniefte. „Schon… aber…“ Ein tiefes Grollen kam aus dem Inneren seines Körpers und ließ diesen erzittern. Mittlerweile wirkte Leif wie nach einem anstrengenden Workout. All seine Muskeln hatten sich vollgesogen mit Blut und wirkten kräftiger und praller denn je. „Kein aber“, flüstere Fynn und gab seinem Freund einen Kuss auf die Stirn. Er wird sich daran gewöhnen. Ganz bestimmt. „Komm.“ Er öffnete die Arme und empfing seinen Freunden mit einer ausgiebigen Umarmung. „Du brauchst keine Angst zu haben. Ich bleibe bei dir.“ Leif antworte nicht. Stattdessen warf er den Kopf nach hinten. Zuerst geschah es in Leifs Brust. Wie auch einst bei Fynn blähte sie sich allmählich auf, füllte sich mit steinharter Muskelmasse, bis sie die Größe zweier Handballhälften erreicht hatte. Dennoch war ein Ende nicht in Sicht. So kräftig und prall. Als nächstes folgten Arme und Schultern. Dünn umklammerten sie seinen Körper, doch allmählich schwollen sie an, wurden kräftiger und kräftiger. Mit jedem Herzschlag tauchten neue Muskeln auf. Fynn fühlte, wie zwei kräftige Trizepse ihn allmählich zerdrückten und ihm den Atem raubten. Dennoch hielt er an seinem Freund fest. Schließlich hatte er es ihm versprochen. Leifs Schultern waren das einzige, was diese mächtigen Arme übertreffen konnte. Erst schwollen sie auf die Größe zweier Handbälle, doch schon bald hatten sie die Formfestigkeit von gusseisernen Kanonenkugeln erreicht. Beinahe gedankenverloren ließ Fynn seine Hände über die Schultern wandern und erfühlte drei perfekt separierte Muskelsegmente. Plötzlich stieß Leif ein tiefes Knurren aus. Allmählich schien er sich an den Gedanken, einen Körper voller Muskeln zu haben, zu gewöhnen. Mit weit aufgerissenen Augen verfolge Fynn das Spektakel und erkannte voller Schreck, dass sein Freund allmählich an Größe dazu gewann. Während kräftige Latissimi die weiterhin anschwellenden Arme zu beiden Seiten wegdrückten und ihm ein monströses Erscheinen verliehen, wuchs Leif über ihn hinweg. Spätestens als er ihm direkt auf die prall gefüllten Brustmuskeln starren konnte, auf die einzelnen Muskelfasern, die darin zum Leben erwachten und das Fleisch unter der Haut zum Tanzen brachten, wusste er, dass sie übertrieben hatten. Aber warum? Warum schlägt Calebs Zeug so gut an? „Siehst du das, Fynn?“, staunte Leif. „Es hört nicht mehr auf. Ich werde immer größer. Und ich muss zugeben…“ Seine Beine explodierten mit schierer Muskelmasse und hüllten die Knochen darunter vollkommen ein. „Es fühlt sich so verdamm gut an. Mein ganzer Körper… meine Arme wirken wie Baumstämme.“ Er löste die Umarmung und präsentierte die wundervollsten Arme, die Fynn jemals zu Gesicht bekommen hatte. Adern pulsierten darauf. Zwei perfekt geformte Handbälle. „Mein Bauch… scheiße…“ Leif stöhnte als sein Gemächt zwischen seinen Brustmuskeln eingeklemmt wurde. Hinter dem Schaft verborgen lagen sechs wohl geformte Bauchmuskeln. Wie eine Hügellandschaft durchzogen von tiefen Klüften zeichneten sie sich unter der Haut ab und schimmerten dank des Schweißes. „Bitte“, flehte Leif. „Mach, dass es nie wieder aufhört.“ Sein Kopf traf auf die Zeltdecke. Wieder wurden seine Muskeln mit Zement gefüllt „Nein, Leif, entgegnete Fynn. „Du hast genug.“ „Genug?“ Leif richtete sich allmählich auf und nutzte seine neuen kräftigen Arme um durch den Stoff des Zeltes zu brechen. Im Sitzen reichte ihm Fynn gerade einmal bis zu den Knien. Einst hatte er seinen Freund um wenige Zentimeter überragt. Nun lastete Leifs schwerer Schatten auf seinen Schultern. „Gefällt dir mein neues Aussehen nicht?“ Leif präsentierte all seinen Muskeln, indem er einen Most-Muscular vollzog. Fuck. Der Anblick alleine reichte aus, dass Fynn kam. Sein Gemächt explodierte mit Lust. Ein Schuss nach dem anderen füllte seine Unterwäsche und ließ ihn verlegen zurück. Scheiße. Warum turnt mich der Anblick so an. Erschöpft richtete er sich auf. Selbst, wenn er stand, reichte er seinem Freund bloß bis zur unteren Brustmuskulatur. „Du bist ein Monstrum.“ Leif blickte an sich herab. Immerhin ließ der Wachstumsschub endlich nach. Verlegen befühlte er seine neuen Armmuskeln und kicherte unschuldig. „Vielleicht hast du Recht. Vielleicht habe ich ein wenig übertrieben.“ „Ein wenig ist gut.“ Aaron kam aus seinem Zelt hervorgekrochen. „Verdammte scheiße. Leif man. Du bist ein Monster! Nicht, dass ich über dich richten dürfte.“ Fynn verstand nicht und wandte sich deshalb um. „Wie ist das möglich?“, sprach er mit heruntergelassener Kinnlade. Auch Aaron hatte signifikant an Körpergröße dazu gewonnen. Beide waren sie gleich auf, nur hatte Aaron mehr Muskelmasse am Körper. Eine wohl geformte Brust, zwei kräftige Arme, ein Eightpack und Schultern so breit wie er einst lang gewesen war. Und scheiße man… war das? Ja. Zwischen seinen Beinen hing ein Biest von einem Glied. Die Saat der Lust tropfte am schlaffen Schaft herab. „Bist wohl genau so überrascht wie ich“, entgegnete Aaron und schritt an ihm vorbei. Jeder seiner Schritte brachte den Boden zum Erbeben. Sein Blick fiel auf Leifs pulsierendes Gemächt. „Sag bloß, du hast ihm nicht dabei geholfen?“ Er grinste schelmisch und Leif errötete. „Beruhig euch, Leute.“ Fynn kreuzte die Arme vor der Brust. „Wir müssen uns etwas einfallen lassen, bevor…“ „Bevor was?“ So viel dazu. Caleb zog die Brauen tief ins Gesicht. „Ich denke, ihr alle schuldet mir eine Erklärung.“ Kapitel 4: „Ich bin bitter enttäuscht von euch und besonders von dir, Fynn.“ Caleb warf ihm einen Blick zu, der ihn gefrieren ließ. „Ich mag ein Sportfanatiker mit der entsprechenden Muskelmasse sein, aber das ist alles komplett natürlich. Das Zeug, was ihr gegessen habt? Nicht mehr als ein Gemisch aus rohen Eiern, Putenbrust, Milch und Hülsenfrüchten. Niemals würde ich mich mit irgend nem Zeug zu pumpen, das mich groß und dämlich macht.“ Diesmal wandte er sich direkt an Aaron, der trotz seiner Größe wie ein kleiner Junge zusammengesunken war. „Das Gefühl, deinen eigenen Körper dank harter Arbeit im Fitnessstudio wachsen zu sehen, ist doch das beste an einem Workout. Keine Abkürzungen. Keine Tricks.“ Er seufzte und warf den Kopf nach hinten. Das feurige Haar folgte dabei der Bewegung des Windes, der zur Nacht hin stärker geworden war. Alle schwiegen sie. Aaron und Leif hatten ihre Männlichkeit mit einer Decke verdeckt, sodass lediglich ihre nackten Oberkörper zu sehen waren. Das Feuer der Öllampe warf schwere Schatten auf ihre Muskeln und ließ sie größer und gewaltiger wirken als sie es jemals gewesen waren. Während Leif vor Scharm wie eine Tomate glühte und sich schüchtern hinter Fynn verbarg, hatte Aaron seit ihrem Treffen kein einziges Wort mehr gesprochen. Stattdessen starrte er lediglich zwischen die eigenen Beine, schob die vertrocknete Erde mit seinen Füßen zu einem Haufen zusammen. Wir sind schon ein jämmerlicher Haufen. Ein Zweimeter-Riese, der sich weiterhin wie mein kleiner und schüchterner Freund verhält und grübelnder Muskelberg, der seine Stimme verloren hat. Nur er allein weiß, was in seinem Kopf vorgeht. Fynn seufzte. „Hör zu“, sprach er und streichelte dabei die kräftigen Beine seines Freundes. „Das alles war nur ein großes Missgeschick. Hätten wir geahnt, dass es…“ Ein Blick auf seinen Freund genügte. „Hätten wir gewusst, dass es derart ausatmet, wir hätten niemals…“ „Macht euch keine Vorwürfe“, entgegnete Caleb kurzerhand. „Ihr hattet keine Ahnung.“ „Und du hast sie?“ Aarons kühle Stimme hätte ihn beinahe vor Schreck umgeworfen. Caleb nickte. „Während ihr eure… Muskelexzesse hattet, habe ich in meinem Handy ein wenig recherchiert. Wegen der verlassenen Hütte oben am Tannengipfel. Offenbar haben ein paar verdammt schlaue Typen dort oben irgendwelche Spielchen getrieben. Im Darkweb gehen Gerüchte eines militärischen Forschungsprojekts umher. Die Foren waren letztes Jahr voll davon.“ „Und was hat das mit uns zu tun?“ Aaron zeigte sich unbeeindruckt. „Nun warte doch mal ab“, knurrte Caleb. „Die haben Experimente durchgeführt. Erst an Tieren, dann an Menschen. Der Fisch, den du vorhin gegessen hast, der muss auch von dort oben stammen. Angeblich wurden die Forschungen eingestellt und das Zeug vernichtet.“ Das brachte Fynn auf eine Idee. „Glaubst du, die haben das Zeug in den Fluss gekippt?“ „Würde zumindest erklären, warum du und Leif auch gewachsen seid. Die Strömung muss das Zeug bis zu deinem geliebten Tümpel getragen haben. Das Wasser hat es verdünnt und du hattest bloß Hautkontakt, weswegen du nicht gleich auf Baumhöhe gewachsen bist. Dein Freund allerdings hatte weniger Glück.“ Leif lächelte unschuldig. Wieder stieg ihm die Röte ins Gesicht. „Wie viele Flaschen hat er nochmal getrunken?“ „Fünf“, hauchte er kurz angebunden. „Es waren fünf volle Flaschen.“ „Das heißt, wenn wir diese Tümpel finden, können wir mehr wachsen?“ Aaron musste sich ordentlich zurückhalten. Seine Hände zogen die Decke über seinen Beinen straff. Was hat dieser Idiot schon wieder vor? „Noch mehr wachsen?“ Fynn hatte sich wohl verhört. „Du willst… nein. Auf gar keinen Fall.“ „Fynn, hat Recht“, stimmte Caleb zu. „Wer weiß, was das Zeug tatsächlich mit euch anstellt. Außerdem… was ist mit deinen Eltern? Wie willst du ihnen deinen plötzlichen Wachstumsspurt erklären?“ „Nicht nur unsere Eltern werden Fragen stellen.“ Leif schluckte ängstlich. „Was ist, wenn die, die das damals in die Wege geleitet haben, davon erfahren und uns zum Schweigen bringen wollen?“ Daran hatte Fynn noch gar nicht gedacht. Seine Hand ruhte weiterhin auf Leifs Bein und er spürte, wie diesem ein Schauer durch den Körper jagte. Er fürchtet sich, erkannte Fynn. „Ich werde nicht zulassen, dass sie dir etwas antun.“ Um seiner Aussage mehr Wert zu verleihen, schnappte er sich Leifs Hand und drückte sie mit der seinen. Das schien ihn ein wenig zu beruhigen. Gut. „Wir werden morgen früh zur Berghütte aufbrechen. Bis dein Vater zurückkommt, bleiben uns noch gut zwölf Stunden.“ Caleb gähnte verschlafen. „Gute Idee“, ergänzte Fynn. „Vielleicht hat, wer auch immer dort oben war, etwas Nützliches zurückgelassen.“ „Gut, dass wir das besprochen haben.“ Caleb stand auf und streckte sich. „Morgen um sechs brechen wir auf. Bis dahin sollte jeder von euch eine ordentliche Mütze Schlaf bekommen.“ Er lenkte sein Augenmerk auf ihr zerstörtes Zelt. „Fynn und Leif können in meinem Zelt schlafen.“ „Und was ist mit dir?“, fragte Leif kurzerhand. „Ich schlafe mit Aaron zusammen. Sieht nur zu, dass ihr in dieser Nacht wirklich nichts mehr treibt. Ich verstehe ja, dass so ein großer und gewaltiger Körper äußerst erregend ist, aber wir haben nur noch die beiden Zelte.“ Er wandte sich nun an Aaron, der über beide Ohren strahlte. „Das gleiche gilt auch für dich. Erwische ich dich einmal mit deiner Hand in meiner oder deiner Hose, kastriere ich dich mit einer Nagelpfeile.“ Am nächsten Morgen standen sie tatsächlich alle geschniegelt und gestriegelt vor dem Pfad, der sie höher und tiefer in den Wald hineinführen würde. Während man Aaron mit Leichtigkeit in ein Shirt und eine luftige Jogginghose von Caleb gesteckt hatte (er mochte ein wenig bulkier darin aussehen als der ursprüngliche Besitzer), trug Leif lediglich eine provisorische Tracht aus Decken. Irgendwie hatte Fynn sie ihm um die Hüfte und über Brust und Schultern gewickelt, sodass er ein wenig wie einer dieser Römer aussah. Wirklich wohl fühlte er sich darin allerdings nicht. Wenigstens muss er nicht nackt gehen. „Seid ihr alle bereit?“ Caleb zurrte das Stirnband enger, das seine stachligen Haare fixierte und ließ die Schultern kreisen. „Bis zur Hütte sind es gut anderthalb Stunden Fußmarsch. Wir werden nur zum Pinkeln rasten.“ „Kann ich nicht doch vielleicht hierbleiben.“ Leifs Stimme drang zart aus dem Hintergrund. Fynn schaute ihm direkt auf die linke Brust, die durch eine offene Stelle in der Deckentracht hervorragte. In der gestrigen Nacht hatte er sich mehrmals zurückhalten müssen. Mitten im Schlaf hatte Leif seine mächtigen Arme um ihn geschlossen und ihn härter werden lassen als jemals zuvor. „Du wirst mitkommen, ob du willst oder nicht“, betonte Caleb. „Nach allem geht es hier vor allem um deinen übernatürlichen Körper.“ Aaron schmunzelte. „Wer weiß? Vielleicht finden wir noch was, um uns größer zu machen.“ Calebs Blick alleine genügte, um ihn zum Schweigen zu bringen. „Sonst noch irgendwelche brillanten Ideen? Keiner? Gut.“ Fortan ging es stets bergauf. Über die Nacht hatte sich der Himmel über ihren Köpfen zugezogen. Die Luft war schwül und lag Fynn schwer in der Lunge, während er einen Fuß vor den anderen setzte, seinen massiven Freund stets im Blick. Bei jedem Schritt verformten sich die Rückenmuskeln, passten sich der Bewegung an. Ein Schauspiel, das ihn erregen würde, wenn der Weg vor ihnen nicht so anstrengend und schwer wäre. Bloß einmal hielten sie an, um Wasser zu lassen. Trotz seiner neuen kräftigen Beine nutzte Fynn die Gelegenheit um sich auf einem Baumstumpf niederzulassen und einen Schluck aus seiner Wasserflasche zu nehmen. „Willst du auch?“, fragte er Leif. Der Junge nickte. Bevor er die Flasche allerdings ansetzte, zögerte er. „Die kommt doch nicht aus dem Tümpel, oder?“ Das amüsierte ihn. „Den Fehler mache ich nicht zweimal. Hab’s aus dem Fluss geholt und abgekocht. Caleb hat bereits daraus getrunken. Also sollte es sicher sein.“ Leif verschnaufte und trank sie zur Hälfe leer. Danach ging sie auch schon weiter. Sie passierten die baufällige Hängebrücke und starrten den tosenden Fluss herab. Steine wie Speere ragten aus den schaumigen Wassermassen hervor. Ein schlagkräftiges Argument für sie, nicht den Weg über die morschen Holzleisten zu wählen. Stattdessen wählten sie einen Umweg, der sie dich an den Klippenvorbeiführte. Bald schon erreichten sie ein Schild, dass Hoffnung verhieß. Demnach gab es einen weiteren Übergang keine hundert Meter von ihrem Standort entfernt. Inzwischen wurde es auch höchste Zeit. Der Himmel verdunkelte sich und erste mutige Tropfen stürzten sich in die Tiefe, wo sie ihre Körper benetzten. Als sie die andere Hängebrücke überschritten, musste sich Fynn von Leif tragen lassen. Auf wagemutige Balanceakte in schwindelerregenden Höhe hatte er noch nie sonderlich gut reagiert. Die Blässe stand ihm ins Gesicht geschrieben. Hätte er gefrühstückt, wäre es ihm sicherlich hochgekommen. Eine weitere halbe Stunde später erreichten sie endlich ihr Ziel. Gerade rechtzeitig, denn der Himmel riss nun vollkommen auf. Zu lauwarmen Regentropfen gesellten sich kräftige Windböen, die an den Wipfel hoher Tannen zehrten, und tiefes Donnergrollen. Jetzt lag es an Fynn, seinen Freund schützend in die alte Holzhütte zu führen. Schon damals hatte Leif lieber die Decke über den Kopf geschlungen als vor einem weit geöffneten Fenster zu stehen und dem Orchester des Sturmes zu lauschen. Heute bangte er dank seiner neu gewonnen Größe umso mehr um sein Leben. Aarons Spruch, er sei nun ein wandelnder Blitzableiter half dabei überhaupt nicht. Die Tür zur Holzhütte stand verdächtig offen. „Hallo?“, rief Fynn, indes er vorsichtig hereinschritt. „Ist jemand da?“ Einzig und allein der Wind antwortete ihm, ein Heulen, das durch Mark und Knochen fuhr. „Verlassen, wie ich’s euch gesagt habe.“ Caleb jagte ihm einen Todesschreck ein. Das Herz rutschte ihm in die Hose und er hätte aufgeschrien, wenn nicht all seine Freunde anwesend gewesen wären. Reiß dich zusammen, verdammt! „Ich schlage vor, wir schauen uns hier ein wenig um. Ich kümmere mich um den Dachboden.“ Caleb zeigte auf ein altes Geflecht aus morschen Stufen, die sich zur finsteren Decke hinauf wandten. „Dann nehme ich den Keller!“ Aaron rannte davon, aber Fynn packte sein Handgelenk und hielt ihn auf. „Und wir kommen mit“, knurrte er. Den lasse ich hier nicht alleine. „Und wer kümmert sich dann ums Erdgeschoss?“ „Leif, wärst du wohl so freundlich?“ Leif nickte stillschweigend. Aaron stammelte daraufhin irgendeinen Fluch. „Dann haben wir wohl ein Date“, lächelte Fynn und folgte Aaron durch den verlassenen Korridor. Über einen Abstieg gelangten sie schließlich in den Keller. Unten war es sogar noch unheimlicher als oben. Nicht einmal das Unwetter konnte diesen Ort noch erhellen. Das Grollen hingegen wurde zu seinem ständigen Wegbegleiter. „Was glaubst du? Werden wir etwas finden?“ Irgendwie musste er sich ablenken und auf andere Gedanken bringen. „Irgendwas finden wir bestimmt.“ Aaron hatte seine Handytaschenlampe eingeschaltet und leuchtete ihnen den Weg. Der Fußboden war anders als erwartet nicht aus Holz gefertigt, sondern mit sterilen Fliesen ausgelegt. Selbiges galt für die Wände. Unterhalb der morschen Decke hatte sich allerdings eine schwarze Schimmelschicht gebildet. Was auch immer einst hier geschehen war, lag nunmehr in der Vergangenheit. „Hier ist was!“ Aaron deutete auf einen großen Raum und eilte voraus. Wenn etwas in dieser alten Berghütte auf geheime Forschungsaktivitäten hindeuten sollte, dann musste es dieser Raum gewesen sein. An den Wänden standen reihenweise Tische und Regale. Einige von ihnen waren noch mit Reagenzgläsern, Erlenmeyerkolben und anderen sonderbaren Behältnissen gefüllt. Eine Konstruktion ließ auf eine Küche hindeuten. Die Töpfe hatte man allerdings sorgfältig zurückgestellt und vollständig gereinigt. Fynn stieß gegen ein Tischbein. Zeit für sein eigenes Handy. Das grelle Licht schien frontal auf einen eisernen Tisch, der Fynn am ehesten an einen Operationssaal erinnerte. Riemen hingen zu den Seiten herab. Einer war während der Prozedur offenbar gerissen. „Hier ist etwas!“, rief Fynn, aber Aaron schenkte ihm keine Beachtung. Vorsichtig beugte sich Fynn nach vorne. Mit all der befremdlichen Muskelmasse war es schwer, unter den Tisch zu greifen. Schließlich hielt er ein altes Dokument in den Händen. Die Zahlen darauf ließen ihn erschaudern. Hier hatte tatsächlich jemand an einem Serum geforscht und war offenbar erfolgreich gewesen. Eine Tabelle zeigte die Veränderung eines Testsubjekts auf. Vergrößerter Brustumfang, aufgeblähte Armmuskulatur, geschwollenes Genital und erhöhter Lusttrieb. Innerhalb einer Woche hatte sich das Gewicht der Person verdoppelt. Bilder zeigten Ausschnitte des Geschöpfs, das sie erschaffen hatten. Fynns Gemächt erwachte, während er die Finger über die kräftigen Brustmuskeln wandern ließ. Die haben Supermenschen erschaffen. Und offenbar hatten sie nicht über einen Rückweg nachgedacht. „Schau dir das mal an“, bemerkte Fynn und lief auf Aaron zu. Der Junge erschrak und wandte sich ihm blitzschnell zu. Hinter dem Rücken hielt er irgendetwas versteckt. „Was hast du da?“, fragte Fynn kritisch. Aaron lächelte unschuldig. „Nichts.“ „Zeig her.“ „Da ist nichts. Wirklich.“ Aaron blieb stur. In einem Moment der Unvorsichtigkeit konnte Fynn einen Blick auf das Gefäß erhaschen. Eine grünliche Flüssigkeit schimmerte darin. „Das ist doch nicht etwa…?“ „Ich will bloß einen Schluck nehmen!“ Ehe Aaron den Flaschenhals ansetzen konnte, hatte Fynn seine Hände umklammert. „Kommt gar nicht in Frage!“, protestierte er. „Ein Schluck davon und du bist jenseits jeder Rettung!“ „Vielleicht möchte ich gar nicht gerettet werden? Vielleicht möchte ich größer als ihr alle zusammen sein!“ „Du bist ein Idiot!“ „Aber ein Muskelidiot!“ Beide zehrten sie am Gefäß. Gleich einem Tauziehwettbewerb wanderte das Gefäß mal in die eine und mal in die andere Richtung. Fynns Muskeln übersäuerten bereits und trotzdem wollte er nicht nachgeben. Aaron mochte mittlerweile stärker als er gewesen sein, aber Fynn hatte die größere Willenskraft. „Lass los!“, knurrte Aaron. „Wie du willst!“ Daraufhin ließ Fynn das Gefäß los. Aaron, der nicht damit gerechnet hatte, taumelte nach hinten und verlor den Halt. Klirr. „Was hast du getan?!“ Sein Blick fiel auf die Scherben zu seinen Füßen. „Du hast es verschüttet.“ „Leute.“ Leifs Stimme drang an sie heran. Sein Gesicht war von grünem Schleim überzogen. „Was ist das für ein Zeug?“ Plötzlich riss er die Augen auf. „Nein. Bitte nicht.“ Fynn traute sich nicht zu antworten. Allmählich verschwand die grüne Substanz, indem sie in Leifs Haut einzog. Scheiße man. Das ist gerade nicht passiert. „Das ist so unfair!“, grummelte Aaron und verschränkte die Arme vor der Brust. „Was tust du hier unten?! Solltest du nicht oben sein?“ Fynns Stimme klang wie ein Paukenschlag. „Ich habe oben nichts gefunden und wollte runterkommen und euch bei eurer Suche helfen.“ Schweiß perlte bereits auf Leifs Stirn. Sein ganzer Körper schimmerte im Licht seiner Handytaschenlampe. „Fuck.“ Er schnaufte. „Fynn, bitte, du musst es irgendwie…“ Ein Stöhnen kam über seine Lippen. „Mhmmm…“ Heißer Dampf stieg von seinem Körper auf. Tief in seiner Brust klang der dumpfe Paukenschlag seines Herzens. Badum. Badum. Ein Trommelschlag, der lauter und lauter wurde und seine Veränderung ankündigte. „Ungh… fuck…“ Unter Leifs Deckentracht regte sich etwas. Eine große Beule zeichnete sich ab und wuchs mit jeder verstreichenden Sekunde in die Länge. „Ahh… scheiße. Bitte. Fynn…“ Plötzlich wuchs Leif in die Höhe. Lediglich wenige Zentimeter, doch es reichte aus, um die Spitze seines Gemächts unter der Decke hervorstehen zu lassen. „Wehre dich nicht dagegen“, hauchte Fynn. Der Anblick der Spitze ließ ihn umgehend hart werden. So groß. Er griff in seinen Schritt und umfasste seinen eigenen Schaft. Leifs Gemächt musste mittlerweile so dick und lang wie ein kräftiger Männerarm gewesen sein. Trotzdem war kein Ende in Sicht. Während draußen der Sturm seinen Höhepunkt erreichte, Donner und Blitze gleichermaßen um die Vorherrschaft rangen, stieg heißer Dampf von Leifs Körper auf. Schweiß hatte das Gewand, das er trug, dunkel eingefärbt, sodass es inzwischen wie eine zweite Haut an seinem Körper haftete. Darunter erkannte Fynn die ersten Veränderungen, ein Beben, das Leifs Körper erschütterte und sich allmählich ausbreitete, bis es ihn in komplette Ekstase versetzt hatte. „Ich wehre mich nicht dagegen“, stöhnte sein Freund. Weitere Zentimeter gesellten sich zu seiner Körpergröße dazu. „Im Gegenteil.“ Langsam hob er den Arm, auf dass sich die Decke über seine mächtige Brust spannte und erste Fasern rissen. „Ich kann es fühlen. Eine unglaubliche Kraft. Sie fließ durch meinen Körper.“ Er spannte seinen rechten Arm an und ließ Muskeln von der Größe eines Volleyballs anschwellen. „Mit jedem Atemzug fühlt er sich gewaltiger an…“ Als hätte er es kontrollieren können, füllte sich sein Arm mit noch mehr Muskelmasse. Muskeln, die Fynn noch nie zuvor gesehen hatte, kamen zum Vorschein und wurden von größeren Muskeln verschluckt. Sein Trizeps verlieh seinem Arm die Größe eines Beines und war so mächtig, dass Fynn beide Hände zum Befühlen gebraucht hätte. Der Bizeps, inzwischen von der Größe eines prall gefüllten Basketballs, pulsierte mit jedem Donnergrollen und ging nahtlos in einen Vorderarm über, der allmählich die Größe einer von Fynns Waden annahm. „Scheiße“, keuchte Leif. „Es fühlt sich so verdammt gut an. Meine Brust…“ Fynn hörte das Reißen von Fasern und schaute hinauf zur Brust seines Freundes, welche sich vor ihm aufbäumte. „Warum macht es mich so hart?“ Mit beiden Händen fühlte er über die prallen Muskeln, tastete über die reißenden Muskelfasern, die Raum für größere, stabilere Fasern schafften. Jeder Teil seiner Brust schien den anderen übertrumpfen zu wollen. Wenn die untere Brust an Fülle und Gewicht dazugewann, holte die mittlere auf, bloß um schließlich von der oberen verschlungen zu werden. Wie zwei Hälften einer Globuskugel zeichneten sich die Brustmuskeln unter der eingerissenen Decke ab. „Ich halte es nicht mehr aus“, stöhnte Leif und fing an, die Decke entzwei zu reißen. Derweil stießen seine Schultern zum Wettkampf der Muskeln dazu. Fuck. Sind das wirklich seine Schultern? Fynn hatte sie als massive Kanonenkugeln in Erinnerung gehabt, aber mittlerweile übertrafen sie selbst einen Medizinball. Jedes Muskelsegment hatte ein eigenständiges Leben entwickelt. Seine neuen Schultern verliehen Leif eine unnatürliche Breite. Er stieß gegen ein Seitenregal und zerdrückte es schlichtweg unter seiner Kraft. „Aaron!“, rief Fynn kurzerhand, als er sich für einen kurzen Augenblick von der Verwandlung seines Freundes loslösen konnte. Aaron schaute mit seinem Gemächt in der Hand zu und schenkte ihm nur so wenig Beachtung wie unbedingt möglich. „Du musst Caleb warnen!“ „Wieso?“, entgegnete Aaron. „Mach es einfach!“ Fynn hatte keine Zeit für solche Spielchen und Aaron schien den Ernst der Lage zu erkennen. „Wie du willst“, grummelte er, versteckte sein Gemächt in der Hose und zwängte sich an Leif vorbei in die Freiheit. „Aber du bist mir was schuldig! Nach allem hätte ich das sein können!“ „Scheiße man…“ Leif stieß ein tiefes Grollen aus. Mittlerweile hatte er die Hände um sein Glied geschlungen. Es pulsierte gleich einem lebendig gewordenen Biest und hatte die Größe eines ausgewachsenen Mannes erreicht. Während es zur Decke ragte, schienen weitere Muskeln auf Leifs Körper aufzutauchen. Der Junge spürte es und lenkte Fynns Aufmerksamkeit auf seinen Rücken. Wieder rissen Fasern und binnen weniger Sekunden explodierten zwei gigantische Latissimi aus der Decke hervor. Vollkommen nackt stand sein Freund nun vor ihm, ein mächtiger Rücken, der von einer Laborwand zur anderen ragte. „Verzeih mir, Fynn“, hauchte Leif und krümmte sich nach vorne, als sein Kopf die Decke berührte, „aber ich kann nicht länger.“ Seine Finger drückten zu und ließen ihn aufstöhnen. „Ich muss es einfach tun.“ Während Leif damit beschäftigt war, sein eigenes Gemächt zu massieren, ragte ihm Fynn inzwischen gerade einmal bis zum Bauchnabel. Ein steinharter Wall von Bauchmuskeln hatte ihn beinahe vollkommen verschlungen. Acht perfekt voneinander getrennte Segmente zählte Fynn, acht Segmente, die größer und kräftiger als seine geschlossene Faust waren, acht Segmente, die ihn zum Anfassen, zum Berühren einluden. Nein, sagte er sich selbst. Ich darf nicht… ich sollte nicht… sollte ihn nicht ausnutzen. Sein Glied zuckte in seiner Hose, nachdem Leif noch einmal an Höhe dazugewann und sich erste Risse in der Decke formten. „Meine Beine“, stöhnte Leif. „Fuck. So groß. So stark.“ Von Leifs Stimme gelenkt schaute Fynn nach unten. Scheiße man. Ein feuchter Fleck bildete sich dort, wo sein Glied gegen die Hose presste. Leifs Beine waren gigantisch, zwei Baumstämme, die er nicht länger umfassen konnte. Neben den Hauptmuskeln, die mit jedem Atemzug anschwollen und sich gegenseitig verdrängten, hatten sich kleinere Gruppen dazugesellt. Die Knie waren unter den Massen beinahe vollkommen verschwunden. Alleine die Waden waren breiter als sein eigener Rumpf und wurden sogar noch größer, als Leif donnernd auf die Knie sackte, um sich selbst mehr Raum zu verpassen. „Du musst mir helfen“, hauchte Leif. Er schnappte sich seinen Freund, eine Hand so groß wie sein eigener Rumpf und schob ihn dicht an sein pulsierendes Glied heran. „Bitte“, flehte Leif und presste die Hände gegen die Außenwände. Nicht mehr lange und er würde durch die Decke brechen. Inzwischen hatte Leif den Raum vollkommen ausgefüllt. Seine Schultern hatten die Größe zweier Lasterreifen angenommen und wurden lediglich von diesen massiven Brustmuskeln, die ihn mit ihren Schatten in Finsternis hüllten, übertrumpft. Ihm helfen? Fynn betrachtete den pulsierenden Schaft, gegen den ihn sein Freund unweigerlich geschoben hatte. Das Teil hatte die Festigkeit eines Baumstammes erreicht mit dem einzigen Unterschied, das das Leben darin förmlich explodierte. Zaghaft legte er die Arme darum und spürte, wie sein Freund erwachte und zufrieden grollte. „Das ist es“, stöhnte er und warf den Kopf nach hinten. Fynn schaute zu beiden Seiten und erkannte die mächtigen Beine, die ihn einhüllten. Wenige Sekunden später trafen Leifs Füße auf die Außenwand und schufen somit einen Durchbruch. „Mehr!“, grollte Leif, seine Stimme dem Nachhall eines Donners gleich. „Fester.“ Fuck. Fynn war so kurz davor, einzig und allein dank dieses spektakulären Anblicks zu kommen. Er fing an, das Gemächt seines Freundes voller Euphorie zu massieren. Inzwischen brach Leif durch die Decke, doch das hielt ihn nicht auf. In einer einzigen Bewegung, in welcher er seine Arme anspannte, riss er die nächste Außenwand ein. Mittlerweile musste er ein Monstrum von sechs Metern Höhe und fünf Metern breite gewesen sein. Ein Glied von der Länge eines Baumes gab die ersten Tropfen der Lust preis und verdeckte Bauchmuskeln, von denen jedes einzelne Segment so groß wie ein Medizinball war. „Mhmmmm…“, stöhnte Leif. „Hör nicht auf.“ Während Fynn weiterhin sein Glied massierte, fühlte Leif über seinen anschwellenden Arm, ließ ihn entspannen, um ihn mit neuer Größe zurückzuholen. „Ich bin… ahhh… scheiße…“ Dem Klang nach zu urteilen war Leif kurz vor seinem Abschluss. Fynn war schon vor einer Minutengekommen, was ihn nicht daran hinderte weiterhin hart zu bleiben. „Ich… ich…“ Leif stieß ein tiefes Grollen aus. Seine Füße brachen durch die nächste Außenwand. Von oben warfen grelle Blitze ihr Licht auf diesen monströsen Körper. „Fuck.“ Plötzlich verwandelte sich Leifs Glied in Stein. Noch einmal explodierten seine Muskeln mit Kraft. Seine Brust riss die Treppe ein, die zuvor zum Dachboden geführt hatte. Sein Rücken brach durch eine Fensterfront und ließ erste Regentropfen in den Keller hinein. Dann explodierte er selbst. Sein Gemächt gab eine Ladung nach der anderen frei. Eine gigantische Hand packte Fynn und hievte sie nach oben. Verängstigt schaute er mit an, wie Leifs ganzer Körper unter der Gewalt des Orgasmus kontrahierte und weiter anschwoll, bis er durch das Dach brach und das Haus vollständig zerstörte. Die weiße Saat der Lust floss an seinem Schaft herab und verschwand im tosenden Fluss. Nachdem der Orgasmus endlich abgeklungen war, schien auch Leifs Wachstumsschub ein Ende zu finden. Vorsichtig legte der Gigant seinen Freund auf seine Bauchmuskeln. Fynn konnte nicht einmal über die enormen Brustmuskeln hinwegsehen. „Das war gut“, keuchte Leif und lächelte unschuldig. Sein ganzer Körper strotzte vor Kraft. Ich habe ein Monster geschaffen, dachte Fynn und kletterte über die Bauchmuskeln und hüpfte über eine Rille zwischen der unteren und mittleren Partition. Der finale Wachstumsschub hatte seinen Freund in ein Monstrum von der Größe eines Hauses verwandelt. Er hatte das heißeste Monster geschaffen, dass er jemals gesehen hatte. Ein Muskelriese. Und er ist mein Freund. Fuck. Was gäbe ich dafür, mit ihm zu wachsen.
  7. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 20

    Sorry for the wait, in case you need a refresher here is Blue Pill Part 19 And without further ado I give to you Blue Pill Part 20 Although she had just fed, Sarah was hungrier than she had ever been before. The smell that hit her as soon as she opened the door to the gym was intoxicating, like pure male essence. It was the aroma of sweat and testosterone that caused her newly formed dick to harden down the leg of her short running shorts. The head of her dick just barely held within the confines of her shorts. She began to sniff the air, walking down the hallway, following the smell to where it was the strongest. This led Sarah to a heavy steel door, which she quickly pushed open to reveal an even more intense cloud of the stench that led here there from the hallway. It was so thick it was almost as if you could swim in it. Sarah felt something wet drip onto her foot and as she looked down to inspect where it came from, she saw another drop forming at the edge of her boxers. The smell had her so turned on that she was hornier than she ever remembered being before. Sarah was surprised to find the locker room was practically empty, minus the few gym bags sitting outside of their lockers. She walked up to one of the gym bags that was setting open atop the bench. She looked in and found a used jock sitting on top. Sarah reached into the gym bag and pulled out the jock. It was still warm and sweaty from the previous wearer, as if it had just been discarded. She brought the jock up to her nose, smelling the amazing aroma of sweat and testosterone with a hint of cum. Sarah stuck the jock in her mouth sucking on the sweat and cum. As she was sucking she felt a surge of strength run through her body and felt her dick pulse in her running shorts. She looked down to see that the head of her dick was now just barely peeking out of the edge of her shorts. As she was looking down at her dick, she noticed that her entire body looked pumped. She ran her hand along the shaft of her penis, earning her a glob of pre-cum once she reached the head. Hormones were racing through her brain telling her she needed to get off and soon. Sarah heard the sound of a shower turning on through the doorway at the end of the row of lockers. She headed towards the doorway with a hunger in her eyes and a raging hardon in her shorts. " Time to feed" she growled to herself... When Riley had first arrived to the gym, his gut was full and swollen with Derek's cum. He knew he needed to do something to get the size of his beach ball belly to go down and after reading the note that was left for Derek about how it would be beneficial for him to work out, he decided the best place for that would be Frank's Gym. It was always filled with meatheads and hardcore weights. Riley was in his jock and a pair of sweats he had found in the school locker room and He was wearing a t-shirt that said 'Fletcher Valley Athletic Department'. It was a little loose on him, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be that way for long. He looked out across the gym floor and found a handful of guys lifting. They ranged in size from amateur bodybuilder to Olympia sized. The biggest being Damien, he was easily a 300-pound wall of shredded beef, ready to dominate his next bodybuilding competition. He was a 6-foot-tall wall of dark chocolate and he was walking straight towards Riley. Riley began to panic. He wondered if the behemoth had seen him staring or if he was just overthinking. Jason's heart began racing faster and faster as each titanic footfall of the giant caused his meaty pecs to bounce. His massive Quads rolling over each other as they fought for space inside the weak confines of his gym shorts. Riley couldn't believe his eyes when they finally fell upon the obscene bulge in Damien's shorts. He had seen some decent sized packages in the school locker room. Chris's came to mind right away, but what was in front of him now had to be as big as Chris's cock was when it was hard, and it was completely soft. As Damien got right up next to me he leaned down to say something in my ear. His deep baritone filled my soul, as I had a hard time registering what he was saying. "Yeah, I saw you lookin. You're gonna need about another 100 pounds before you can handle what I got to give. Come find me when you do though, I'd love to fill your bowl with my cream." He stood back up to his full height and I watched his face as a huge toothy grin formed on his face as he gave me a wink. He reached down to adjust his package which Jason swore was bigger than just a moment ago. As Damien walked past Riley, He turned to watch Damien as he stared directly at Riley's ass. He seductively licked his lips as he headed into the gym locker room. To say that Riley felt on fire would be an understatement, he felt like hormones were flooding his entire being. Not only that, but his cock was rock hard. He knew he needed to focus. If what the note said was true, he needed to start lifting so he could absorb all the muscle cum that was in his belly. Riley decided to start with arms, so he headed over to a long row of dumbbells in front of a large gym mirror. He grabbed the 25's to start as a warm up and headed over to the isolation bench. As he was walking over to the bench Riley watched his arms in the mirror as the sinewy muscle lightly flexed to support the weight in his hands. He flexed his arm straight down causing a slight bulge to appear on the back of his arm from his triceps. Riley sat at the isolation bench and began doing curls. At first the weight was a little heavy, but began to get easier to lift as he did more reps. Once he had 25 reps done he switched to his other arm and began lifting again. Riley watched as veins began to surface on his arm and his goose egg of a bicep began expanding, just a little bit more with each rep. With his biceps now feeling warmed up, he brought the weight behind his head and began one armed triceps-extensions. He really had to push at the beginning to get the weight up, but as he continued it got easier and easier with each rep. Riley did 25 with each arm and stood up to take the weights back. This time as he passed himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but gawk at his reflection. His arms were pumped just from his warm-up. Riley started the work out with 15-inch arms, but they were looking much closer to the 15-inch range and this time when he flexed his arm straight down, he was rewarded with an actual horse-shoe bulge on the back of his arm. The boner that had started to go down during his lifts sprang back to life as he admired his pump in the mirror. "Fuck yeah! I'm getting pumped" Riley growled to himself in the mirror. "So fucking hot!" Riley put the weights back and walked further down the row of weights, this time picking up the 50's. Riley had never done anything heavier for isolation curls than 35. He could feel the heaviness of the weight in his hands as he headed back to the bench. Riley sat down and began pumping out rep after rep. As the weight got lighter with each rep, his arm began to bulge with some serious muscle. Veins that had appeared during his warm-up were now thickening and branching out all across his swollen bicep. The hard knot on his arm was now about the size of a baseball. Riley then continued the same process with his other arm. During this entire process Riley's raging hard on had begun leaking copious amounts of pre-cum into his jock. Knowing that he was going to have some difficulty doing single arm triceps extensions with 50 pounds, He decided to do just a regular triceps extension using both arms and the 50-pound dumbbell. It was a struggle at first, but just like with his biceps it got easier with every rep he did. Riley lost track of how many extensions he did until he realized that the weight he was using felt as light as the 25 pounders. Riley stood up to take the weight back. This time what he saw in the mirror was a complete and total surprise, the arms that he now possessed were at least 16 inches and wrapped in veins. He couldn't believe how big he was getting. The thought caused his cock to flex in his sweats, which brought his attention to a wet spot that had begun to form where the head of his dick was. Riley reached down and ran his hand along his shaft, as he flexed his cock in his hand. He continued flexing his cock in his hand, as he brought his other arm up into a flex as well. This caused his cock to react by surging in his hand, the head of his cock was now poking out of his jock and shot a wad of precum on the inside of his sweat pants. More turned on then he ever remembered being in his life, Riley headed over to the bench press and loaded the bar with weight for a warm-up. He laid under the bar and brought the weight down to graze his nipples. He then pushed the weight back up. Riley cranked out rep after rep as he began to get a pump from his warm up. Riley began losing sight of his erect nipples as his pecs began inflating with blood. Riley decided it was time to put some serious weight on the bar. He got up and loaded the bar with 300 pounds and got back under the bar. The most Riley had ever benched before this was 150 and that was a struggle. Riley felt confident this time as he lifted the bar, he slowly brought the bar down, feeling the muscle fibers in his pecs stretch and scream in pain as they were forced to lift twice as much as they ever had before. The weight finally reached his pecs and he pushed with all his might to get the weight back up. Once it was back at the top, he brought the weight back down, this time not as much resistance from his pecs. Every time Riley brought the weight down he didn't have to go as far as his pecs swelled thicker with each rep. After what felt like an eternity, Riley finally re-racked the weight and sat up on the bench. Right away Riley could tell a huge difference in his pecs, the weight of his bulbous man breasts pulled heavily on the fabric of his shirt. Riley stood to look at himself in the mirror. "OH SHIT" Riley couldn't believe how big his pecs had become. "I might have done too many bench presses." Riley realized, too late of course, that his pecs were out of proportion with the rest of his body. They almost looked like breasts if it weren't for his slight pouch of a belly he had left. Riley ran his hand up along the curve of his bulbous pec muscle and moaned out loud on the gym floor as his hand rubbed across his pert nipple. A couple of the muscle heads turned to catch a glimpse of Riley and his increasing wet spot in his sweat pants. Realizing that he needed to balance out his body, Riley headed over to the squat rack last. One of the big meat heads must have been using it last, because they didn't take their weights off the bar. The bar was loaded with 500 pounds. Riley was feeling stronger than he ever felt and his rock-hard cock told him that he could lift that fucking weight. Riley braced himself underneath the bar and went to lift the weight up when the big muscle head that had been lifting there headed over to stop Riley. "Hey bro, that weight is way too heavy for your chicken legs, how about we start you off with something a little lighter?" "I'm going to crush this weight!" Riley growled with a fire in his eyes. "Well then, I'm at least going to spot you, I would hate for you to crush yourself under my watch. Names Ben by the way, I'm the manager of Frank's gym." "Enough talk Ben, let's lift some fucking weight." Riley lifted the bar up before Ben was positioned behind him. Riley could feel Ben's hard biceps against the back of his newly minted triceps. The breath on the back of his neck made him even hornier if that was even possible. "FUUUUCCCCKKKKK" Riley moaned/yelled as he squatted down with the weight, he could feel Ben's crotch against his ass as he pushed back in the bottom of the lift, then Riley began pushing the unbelievably heavy weight back up. At the top of the lift, Riley could feel Ben's biceps tense against his triceps as he was trying to get Riley to re-rack the weight. "Great job man, I..." "Did I say I was done yet?!?" As Riley squatted down again, with Ben following him down. The legs of Riley's sweatpants were becoming increasingly tight around his ever-enlarging thighs and he could feel his ass pushing back more into Ben's crotch. Riley flexed his ass at the bottom of the squat. This elicited a moan out of his spotter as he could feel Ben's dick hardening against his rock-hard ass cheeks. Once at the top of the lift, Riley started another squat. Riley could feel the power in his legs increasing as they blew up in size. He could feel his sweat pants becoming too tight against his straining cock and his ballooning ass. Before he could stop himself from humiliation, he heard the ass of his sweats give out with a loud rip. He could feel cool air hit his hole as it was exposed between the straps of his jock. Ben felt the head of his cock through his gym shorts push past Riley's rock-hard ass cheeks to his exposed hole. Riley felt Ben's cockhead through his shorts as it pushed against his hole. Riley decided to hold the weight there for a little longer. Ben rubber the head of his cock against Riley's hole. Riley's legs strained to hold the weight, but they grew larger by the second during the strain, making it easier the longer he held it. "Fuck man, I can't. You have got a really hot ass and I have never had these feelings for another guy before. I'm straight man I'm sorry." Ben pulled his cock head back from Riley's ass and stepped back. Riley stood back up with the weight and re-racked it. Riley turned around to face Ben. He stood almost eye to eye with Ben. Ben had the most beautiful hazel eyes and short military cut hair. His face was chiseled and manly looking. He had to be about 260 pounds. He was a big boy. Riley looked down and realized that’s not all that was big on Ben. His arms and pecs were massive, but what really pulled Riley's attention is what was poking at his hole just moments ago. Riley reached down and wrapped his hand around it, massaging the head. Ben moaned loudly as he closed his eyes and rolled his head back. Riley leaned his body in against Ben's, "Wh..what are you doing?" Ben stuttered as Riley leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. Ben moaned into Riley's mouth as Riley felt Ben's cock swell in his hand as it anticipated releasing its load. Riley stepped away from Ben before he could cum. Ben's eyes were still closed in a moment of bliss."FUCK! That was so fucking hot! Why did you stop?" "You're straight remember." Riley replied with a devilish grin." Besides, I'm done with my workout. Thanks for the spot Ben. Hopefully we can lift together again." Riley gave Ben a wink as he headed for the lockers, holding the ass of his sweats together as best he could. "HEY, WAIT! I never got your name!" Ben shouted after Riley. "If you want my name you'll have to see me again to get it." Riley headed into the locker room and began taking off all his clothes. He admired the way he struggled to get his shirt up over his massive pecs. Riley moaned as the hem of the shirt snagged on his nipples. Riley removed the remains of his sweats to reveal a raging hard on he wasn't expecting. It was about a half inch bigger than he was used to and quite a bit thicker. "Well this isn't covering anything anymore." Riley said as he removed his jockstrap and set it on top of his gym bag. Riley couldn't believe how big he had gotten. He must weigh at least 190 now. He heard the locker room door open on the other side of his lockers. Riley thought it might be Ben, so he wanted to make Ben work for it a little bit, so he turned and quietly slipped into the sauna before he came around the lockers. "God I can't wait to make love to the beautiful man!"
  8. LinkX

    If the Shoe Fits.

    Pardon the tags... what I've written so far is mostly set up at the moment. I'd like to get some constructive feedback before I continue. Please refrain from calling out my punctuation mistakes. Otherwise let me know if I should continue. I understand that so far this plot has been done like a million different times...but honestly nowadays what plot hasn't? Hopefully you can find something unique to my story. Please let me know what you think. Also apologies for the chapters being so short...it looks longer on Microsoft. Chapter 1 I pulled into my driveway and pushed the clicker on my garage opener. As the door slowly slid open I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Suddenly a rough day at work didn’t seem so terrible. My boyfriend of eight years was finally home after a two month work assignment back east. After shutting down the car and grabbing my gym bag I opened the door to my house… and the lights were off. Of course. I could hear the sounds of battle coming from upstairs. I don’t know why I expected him to be waiting for me by the door when I got home… he’s an avid player of this sword and magic computer game he plays with his friends, and the game released an expansion three days before he got home. Of course he didn’t have his gaming computer with him so he had to wait… which I know drove him nuts. I set my bag down by the washing machine and trudged up the stairs to our bedroom. I guided myself by the light blue light coming from my partner’s computer screen in the bedroom. I entered the room quietly. His back was to me and he had his headset on. He was frantically pushing buttons and shouting commands into his mic. “Stack! Stack! Over here…. Ok fast rez this pug over here… never mind we’ll get him later. Drop your A O E and push!” I still can’t translate all his gamer jargon. I waited a couple minutes while he finished his fight. Before he could find a new bad guy to go destroy I turned the lights on. Startled, he quickly turned to face me. His face lit up. Then he turned back to his screen. “Sorry guys, I have to go, Frizzle can you command? Thanks, see ya.” He shut down his game, tossed his headset down, and then proceeded to jump right into my arms. “Oh my god, I missed you so much… my family is terrible!” he exclaimed between kisses. “I missed you too babe,” I replied. “Looks like you managed to find some shopping at least.” He pulled back from our embrace and gave me his goofy smile. God I loved him so much. I set him down so he could parade what he got. “Yeah… so you won’t believe this,” he said excitedly. “I went to this specialty big and tall store and found these!” He pointed to his feet. He was wearing an enormous pair of sneakers. They were at least a few sizes larger than my own size 15 shoes. “check ‘em out… size 20! I never thought I’d find a store that carried them!” I laughed. “You could always try Amazon you know.” Still smiling, he quickly shot me that not-amused look that I knew all too well. “You can’t see them in real life on Amazon before you buy them,” he said pointedly. “You know I like to shop for shoes.” Still laughing I shot back “yeah, well you have no problem special ordering other clothes online.” He reached up and lightly tapped me on the chest. “That’s different… Speaking of which, I got a package today that had this in it,” he said, pointing to the oversized muscle-tank he looked like he was practically drowning in. “Oh, and these.” He lifted up his shirt revealing a pair of workout shorts that looked like pants on him, and untied the waist. The large shorts fell to the floor revealing a jockstrap with a gigantic pouch. The straps hung loosely around his legs and the waist was tied to hold it on his body. He was excited, in more than one way, but of course his thin 5.5 inch cock didn’t fill the giant pouch he had literally tied around his waist. He looked back up at me grinning ear to ear. At that moment he reminded me of a puppy that knew he had done well and was waiting for a treat. “Damn dude!” I told him, playing to his fantasy. “You’re gonna be huge when you grow into those!” “Damn right!” he shot back, smiling. I knew full well there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever fit those clothes. I’ve heard of people gaining an extra inch or two of height in their early to mid-twenties… but at 30 years old, even if by some miracle he had a growth spurt, there was no way my 5’4”, 130 lb stud with a size 8 shoe would fill this outfit out. Still, I entertained his fantasy because I love him. As long as I’ve known him he’s been fascinated with everything big. Big height, big muscle, big cock. That’s his motto. That’s why he fell for me so quickly. At 6’5” I’m a tall drink of water, and I’m pretty proud of my bodybuilder physique (it’s so much tougher for us tall guys). With those two traits when he first saw me he went weak in the knees... but when I got him home and he got his eyes on my thick 8.5” piece of meat deal was done. He decided right then and there he was gonna keep me. I must have zoned out just thinking about how I met my man, and how much I loved him and all his quirks all these years later. Because next thing I knew he was waving at me: “Hey…hey… earth to Aaron. Are you going to stand there and stare at me all evening? I love you, but I haven’t had sex in two months. I need your ass.” As was typical when he was wearing his bigger clothes he was the top that night. Chapter 2 He really was a horny little bastard. He shot 4 loads before pulling out, and then still got a fifth off all over my face before collapsing next to me. He leaned over to the nightstand and handed me a rag. “That’s gonna feel so much better when I’m bigger,” he said nonchalantly--still coming down off his orgasm. “I’m gonna open you up like you do me…and it’s going to be awesome when I go to the gym. I’ll walk around the locker room naked with my dick swinging back and forth and everyone will want it. I’ll be buff with pecs like yours and people will ask to feel my arms too. It’ll be awesome to have you be the little spoon for once.” “I can be your little spoon now,” I reassured him. He laughed. “Haha…yeah…but no. I mean I like holding you… but I can’t sleep like that, you’re too wide I can’t reach all the way around you like I’d like to yet. I want to be able to hold you like you hold me.” “But when you’re big, how am I going to keep the other guys off you? Who’s to say that you won’t find a guy that likes your size as much as you like mine? You might not want to keep me then” I teased. He sat up and looked me in the eye: “Aaron, you’re like a shoe that fits me perfectly… I’ll never outgrow you.” He stated seriously. “A shoe? Seriously?” I scolded playfully. “Patrick… I love you but you’re a dork.” I rolled out of bed. “All right big guy, let’s shower and get to bed… you’ve got to be jetlagged.” Chapter 3 The next few weeks went by fairly routinely. That is until one Saturday morning while I was cooking breakfast Patrick shouted down from the bedroom, “Aaron, Aaron come quick!” I hurried up the stairs to see what was the matter. Patrick was absent mindedly stroking his cock with one hand while scrolling down a browser with the other. “What’s up?” I asked. “You’ve got to read this” was his reply. I began scanning the screen. It was the results of a two year research study investigating a compound that was supposed to interact with the endocrine system, inducing height and muscular changes. “This is it… I’m finally going to get big!” Patrick exclaimed. “Wait…what?” I stuttered, trying to run through the page before he got too far ahead of me. “I finally found what I need to get big like you! I told you! I told you I’m gonna get huge like you!” I finished reading the synopsis. “Hold on a sec, guy… this says the study was discontinued early because the compound didn’t have an effect on enough participants. It’s been 3 years. Even then the best case scenario is an “increase of 1-3 inches in height as well as increased musculature, penis size and rigidity”. I quoted. “Honey, you can’t get more rigid… and is 1-3 inches worth any risk?” “Like you said, it’s been 3 years, I’m sure they’ve done more research,” he countered quickly, “and yes…1-3” would be worth it.” He gazed into my eyes with such sincerity and need that I quickly gave in. “If you think it’s what you need to do I’m with you 110%... remember though its 4 injections over the course of a year, so it’s not like you can change your mind.” I said. “I’ll think about it… but I won’t change my mind. I promise.” Chapter 4 Over the next several days I became concerned. Each night when I got home from work Patrick would be upstairs on his computer. Though instead of the usual video game chatter. I’d arrive to silence. I’d wander upstairs, and Patrick would be sprawled out by his desk, head phones in, scrawling through page after page of research. He sit there in his size 20 sneakers and oversized jock, every once in a while moving enough to make a bookmark, and every few hours I’d make him stop and walk downstairs to either eat or get some water. Or anything really…just something to let me know he was still alive. One night I was sitting downstairs watching the latest episode of Gotham when he came downstairs and sat beside me. He snuggled up next to me and after a few minutes simply said “I’m ready.” Patrick managed to book an initial intake appointment a few weeks later. He was nervous, and asked that I go with him. We drove from the suburbs to the address provided, which turned out to be an historic tire warehouse building that had been converted into a laboratory. The outside didn’t look too impressive. Just faded signs painted on the walls probably 80 years ago, a Starbucks on the ground floor, and two purposefully rusty-looking doors with a buzzer and keypad to the right of them. I pressed the buzzer and a voice quickly answered, asking Patrick to confirm his appointment. He did and the door clicked allowing us entry. The interior of the building was markedly different from the outside. It was very brightly lit. Very sterile looking. At the center of the room was a large white circular desk. A young twinkish man who looked like he was maybe a freshman in college sat at the desk. As we approached the desk he checked us both out. Very obviously. He smirked at Patrick, then glanced me over and then fumbled with some paperwork on his desk as we got near. “Hello,” he said. “You must be Patrick. Thank you for coming. Dr. Stevens will be with you shortly.” He turned to me. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, and I don’t see another appointment at this time.” “Oh no, I’m just here with him,” I replied. The twink gave us a knowing look. “Oh ok, that’s cool. Make yourself comfortable. We have a few chairs and some reading material. Do you need anything to drink?” “Not at the moment. Thank you,” I responded. Patrick finished his questionnaire and we sat down. A few minutes later I saw a man with a clipboard walk down the stairs. He was about 6’2”, with a nice athletic build and short, jet black hair. He was wearing a blue button down shirt and black denim jeans. “Howdy… Patrick?” he asked. Patrick looked up from the fitness magazine he had started to read. Introductions were made and the doctor invited us upstairs. Chapter 5 Dr. Stevens’s office was fairly nondescript. It consisted of a large oak desk, a couple chairs, a computer, a lamp, and a large bookcase full of books and knickknacks. In the center of the bookcase was an urn, next to the urn sat a tiny little barbell and a photo of a child in a wheelchair. I couldn’t tell you the kid’s age. His head too large for his body, which seemed to have little to no musculature at all. He was short, though his hands looked large. Despite all this I couldn’t help but be entertained by the kid’s beaming smile. Whoever was taking the photo obviously meant the world to this young man and you couldn’t look at this photo without seeing it in his expression. “mgm-hmm,” Dr. Stevens coughed. We all took a seat around the desk. “My secretary says you’re quite persistant, Mr.” “Patrick,” my boyfriend chimed in, “and this is my partner Aaron.” “Nice to meet you both, so what can I help you with.” Patrick looked at me for reassurance. I gave him a nod, and he began grinning ear to ear and scooted to the edge of his seat. This seemed to make the doctor uncomfortable for a moment as he shifted in his chair and shot a glance to the urn on his bookshelf. “Sir, three years ago you lead a study on the effects of a certain compound on the endocrine system,” Patrick started. “That study ended early,” the doctor interrupted. “The compound was deemed ineffective on human systems.” Patrick’s grin faded. “Yes, but it wasn’t…” “Wasn’t what?” The doctor was obviously agitated. “If you’d done your research you would have realized that the compound you speak of was only effective in less than 1% of the sample. Even then the effects were insufficient for continued funding. I’m a busy man, do you have a reason for hounding my assistant for days to get an appointment or did you just want me to read the conclusion of my paper for you?” Feeling intimidated, Patrick slouched back into his chair momentarily before standing up and walking towards the door. He was doing his best to fight back tears. I stood to join him, my heart felt heavy looking at my lover’s dejected demeanor. I could see his hope…his dream… falling to pieces in front of me. “It wasn’t a failure,” I said softly while looking straight at Patrick. “You had results. Sure, they weren’t as much as hoped for… but they were results. My partner…my boyfriend…has taken time off work, and has driven over 50 miles for an hour of your time. Sure, it’s a long shot. But from where he’s standing it’s his best shot of attaining the one thing he’s wanted for as long as he could breathe. The entire reason we’re here-- the reason he’s blown up your secretary’s phone and email. Is because he wants… he needs… to explore this opportunity.” Patrick wiped a tear from his cheek, his eyes lit up. He had his fire back. “Sir,” he stated. “Aaron’s right. The study wasn’t a failure. Please give me a chance. Even if it’s a small chance” He looked the doctor squarely in the eye. He spoke with sincerity. With need. “Someday I’m going to be big… like you and Aaron. I know it. I just need help getting there. Please help me.” Dr. Stevens didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He stared at Patrick as though he’d seen a ghost. Finally he began fiddling with a pen. Squeezing it until his knuckles turned white then releasing it, over and over. He stood up and walked over to the bookcase. Standing in front of the urn with his back to us he finally spoke: “You don’t just stop and start studies willy-nilly. That’s not how professional research works,” he began. “But?” Patrick said quietly. “But,” the doctor turned, “my research has never really stopped to be honest. No, I don’t have any current “subjects” or “trials”, but the scientist in me still looks for the answers I know are out there. I didn’t have enough subjects to truly test out the compound I developed, and funding dried up. My old company blamed faulty research, but it wasn’t. The formula is just very specific. It only affects a fraction of a fraction of the human population—and I have developed a hypothesis that that’s because it affects a specific hormonal genetic marker that only one in several million people have. I don’t have the resources I’d need to prove or disprove that any longer.” “What happens if you get the injection and you don’t have the marker,” I asked. “Nothing,” the doctor sighed. “If it doesn’t work, you may as well have been injected with saline.” “Do… do you still have access to your old formula?” Patrick asked carefully. The doctor looked at him skeptically. “I do.” “Then may I try it?” He continued quickly, “If it doesn’t work, we’ve lost nothing. If it does, we have everything to gain. I’ll sign whatever legal papers I need to absolve you of any liability. I’ll pay you. Please. What can I offer to get your help? I'll do anything.” The pleading look in his eyes spoke louder than words. The doctor sat back down and put his head between his hands. After a few moments he looked up. “I may very well lose my license over this, but I’ll do it. You remind me so much of my brother I’d be ashamed if I said no.” Patrick was so excited his legs gave out. As he sunk to his knees tears streamed down his face. I hurried over to hold him. I’d never seen him so excited. He was shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god,” he kept repeated. “It’s gonna happen! It’s finally gonna happen!” Dr. Stevens took some Kleenex out of his desk drawer. He then picked up the phone and told his assistant to clear his schedule for the evening. He took a couple and handed them to us. He gave us a few minutes for Patrick to collect himself before speaking again. “Ada…I mean Patrick. Now since I’ve agreed to assist you and provide you with the compound, we need to discuss terms. We are going to approach this scientifically. Before we administer the first injection, I need to have you sign some disclosure and consent forms. Also, I want to run a full blood work up on you. I’m certain you won’t be allergic to the formula, I’d just like to have a baseline for your hormone levels. Also, I’m going to need to run a complete physical—including height, weight, musculature, and sexual function. Once that’s complete I can administer the injection. If you react, you should begin to notice some changes within the next three to four days. I ask that you email me if you feel any changes. In the meantime, I will provide you with a diet and exercise plan that you must follow daily. We will schedule a follow up appointment one week from today. If you’re not reacting to the formula no need to come in. If you do have a reaction we will continue to the next phase. Keep in mind that once you receive the injection it’s irreversible.” Patrick looked at me once again for approval. I nodded. “I understand,” Patrick said. “How much do I owe you?” Dr. Stephens smiled. “We’re going to do this right. For this first visit there will be no payment. If you react to the formula, each week I will provide to you a stipend to cover the full cost of anything study related.” “I thought you didn’t have funding.” I said, stunned by his generous offer. “The one exception I’m making for this project is that this particular trial will be paid out of a very special trust fund, if it should be successful” the doctor replied, again glancing at the urn. “Thank you sir,” Patrick said. “Where do I sign?”
  9. theseventhwave

    The Symbiote War - Chapter 14

    Hello everyone! My apologies for the loooonnnngggg delay. Life has been busy - and this sort of writing is challenging. Much thanks to everyone for being so very kind and supportive. And very special thanks to Xyggurat for pushing (gently) and also for being the inspiration for this story in the first place - you really should read Xyggurat's "The Roommate" series. If you haven't ready Chapters 1 through 13 - here are links: Chapter 1-7: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1689-the-symbiote-war/ Chapter 8: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/4428-the-symbiote-war-chapter-8/ Chapters 9-10: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5517-the-symbiote-war-chps-9-10-and-eventually-the-rest/ Chapter 11 is on page 3 of the previous thread. Chapter 12 is on page 4 of the previous thread. Chapter 13 is on page 5 of the previous thread. And finally... Here is chapter 14. Chapter 14: Sunday – Caught! It’s Sunday morning and I’m leaving Mark’s apartment with all the feelz; the warm fuzzies from having spent the night cuddling with this hot boy, exuberance at this budding relationship, amazement from having met such a wonderful man, but then also trepidation of what’s waiting for me – not just with Shawn, but with my future. Will there ever be an end to this growth ability? Would I want this to end? Because it’s Sunday morning, I know Shawn will be in the gym. So I head back to our dorm room to shower and make plans for the day. As I open the door, the first thing that hits me is the air. It’s hot and musky-sweet smelling (more musky than sweet). That catches me off-guard and I hesitate with the door half opened. But then a meaty arm reaches through the opening, grabs my wrist, and before I can even gasp, pulls me in. “Hey Little Buddy! Where’ve you been?” Shawn’s body is radiating heat, his hand on my wrist is warm…and potentially crushing the bones in my wrist. I’m staring at his massive chest. He’s shirtless, his pecs look pumped and swollen – red and sweaty – and the striations are criss-crossed with veins. So fucking hot! I would totally be enjoying this if only the bones in my wrist would stop complaining. “Shawn, you’re breaking my wrist.” “Sorry buddy.” As he finishes pulling me into the room he lets go of my wrist as he closes the door. “I’m still getting used to being this strong.” He tosses out that line casually, as if it isn’t the weirdest, sexiest, freakiest, hottest fucking thing ever. “Shouldn’t you be in the gym on a Sunday morning?” “I spent the whole day there yesterday, when I wasn’t looking for you. Where have you been hiding?” I certainly don’t want to share my secret hiding spot, so I try to re-direct the conversation. “Why would you be looking for me? And again, shouldn’t you be in the gym?” Ok, admittedly that was not my best re-direction work. In my defense, I was caught off-guard by Shawn being in the room, and I’m having trouble concentrating with these slabs of delicious pec meat heaving in my face. “Yeah I’ve been waiting here for you to come back. I’ve been passing the time doing body-weight exercises, but they’re not really a challenge anymore. I’m waiting for you so that I can get back to the gym. I spent the whole day there yesterday – and after getting a boost from you Friday night and yesterday morning, it was a fucking amazing gym day. I blew through all my personal bests on every exercise. I can’t describe how much of a turn-on it is to be this strong and be able to throw around so much weight!” He doesn’t really have to try. Just listening to him talk about being so strong has me hard as a rock. I’m beginning to perceive a problem… “Shawn…” I try to start some sort of argument to try and extract myself from this situation. “I want another day like that. I want another day full of blowing through all my PB’s. And you’re going to help me with that.” My balls churn at the thought. “Shawn…” I swear I’m trying to come up with some sort of argument, but my brain is not helping me here – maybe because all my blood is somewhere else… In a bit of a surprise move, Shawn picks me up. He’s hugging me tight and carrying me over to the bed. Part of me is screaming. But my hands are clamped on his striated deltoids and I’m already grinding my boner into his chest. So obviously, part of me is revelling in this sexy beast. Shawn throws me down on my bed and immediately he’s on top of me – taking off my clothes. Not only am I not trying to resist, I’m actually helping to get my clothes off. Shawn kicks off his shorts, freeing his cock to swing like a pendulum – a big, thick pendulum that I want to put in my mouth. He’s holding himself over me with one arm and caressing my boner with a big meaty hand. I am already leaking. My hands are everywhere; trying to dent his biceps, exploring the crevasse between his pecs, reaching down to grab hold of his muscle-y bubble-butt, and stroking his hot cock. He lowers himself down onto me, his hot pecs pressing firmly into mine. And I can feel our cocks grinding together between our abs – and I can tell that his is bigger, harder, and hotter than mine. It’s all too much, my balls churn and I’m over the edge. I can feel the cum rocketing from my cock – slicking up the space between our bodies – our abs and cocks now gliding smoothly from the lubrication. I’m locked in orgasm, but Shawn is still thrusting on top of me. I can feel his growth – his pecs are pushing into mine, his body widens and lengthens, his hard cock takes up more space between us, pushing harder into my abs and crawling farther up my chest. And as this is happening, I can feel the lubrication disappearing as my cum is soaked up into his body – until we’re left dry humping again. “Oh fuck yeah!” Shawn breathes. “Corrigan, you are amazing.” He pushes himself up a bit and so I get a better look at his body. His arms look like pillars of marble. The striations of muscle in his shoulders ripple as they fight for space under his skin. His pecs are larger than they were before, and from this angle, I get a glorious view of his bulging abs and obliques – at least what’s not being obscured by his cock. His cock is sticking up between us and it’s beyond belief – thick and meaty and wrapped in veins. I’m drooling. Shawn can see the lust in my eyes, and responds with a cute smile and a gleam in his eye. “One more dose before the gym.” “But I just came!” “I’ve got that covered.” “You’ve what?!” “Drink this.” And before I can even register a stunned expression, Shawn has plastic juice bottle up to my lips. I’m instantly reaching up to get this out of my face, but Shawn easily holds my hands at bay. “Drink this nicely, this doesn’t have to get unpleasant.” There’s no contest – I can’t even fight my way past one of his arms. I drink. “What was that?” “It turns out that one of the advantages of being a muscle stud is that people will do anything for a feel. I caught a pharmacist lusting after me in the gym yesterday. He was more than happy to help me out, and I convinced him to get me a little something. I don’t think this drug is actually on the legal market, but it’s supposed to be quite effective – a little something to help me get a second dose without having to wait for your refractory period to end.” I can feel myself getting flushed. Maybe it’s just embarrassment. Maybe it’s the drug. Maybe it’s just me being turned on by this muscle stud kneeling over me with his boner on my abs? And in less than a minute, I have my answer. I can feel the “flush” intensifying and centering on my cock – my boner feels as if it’s a beating heart. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my whole life. “What the hell did you give me?” “No idea. But clearly it’s working.” Shawn gives my boner a squeeze. A tiny drop of pre-cum forms on the tip. “You’re such a sexy little fucker.” “Ummm…. Thanks?” Shawn leans in and pops my boner in his mouth. His mouth is warm – my cock is on fire. He’s sucking hard – I can see the muscles in his neck flexing. I run my hands through his hair, over his muscular traps, and clamp on to the striations in his massive deltoids. “Unnnggg…” His vacuuming on my boner is so intense it’s both ecstasy and agony. I can feel his shoulders widening, the already hard muscles pushing against my hands. Shawn reaches up and cups my balls in his hand – gently kneading. It’s all too much – my climax is coming from somewhere deep inside me and I can feel it slowly building in intensity. It starts at the base of my penis, my balls clench up, my cock expands in anticipation. Shawn can feel that I’m about to cum, he clenches a little tighter on my balls and jams my cock deeper down his throat. And with that, it’s an explosion. I’ve never had such a climax, my cock felt like an out-of-control firehose. Shawn eagerly did his best to take it all. At the end I was completely spent, but even though my balls were drained, my cock was still throbbing as if it couldn’t help but continue to try and give up more. Shawn slowly pulls back, my still hard erection is now visible, it looks swollen. But I have no time for that, it’s Shawn that’s stealing the show. Standing up straight, I can see growth everywhere. His physical…presence is filling the room. His head is inching toward the ceiling, resting on top of a spectacular mountain of traps. His deltoid muscles stand out impressively, looking as if they are fighting for space with his chest. All of this is framed by the massive wide V of his back and the cobblestones of his obliques. Shawn’s quads are so wide that he’s standing in that bodybuilder stance where he has to have his legs slightly spread. And that cock! Shawn clearly has a semi, but it’s thick as my wrist, and even draped over his impressive balls it is slowly inching down closer to his knees. “It’s been a while. Let’s do this.” He throws a tape measure at me. I am unable to process all of this; it’s too much to take in. I am exhausted, and my mind is spinning so fast in so many directions that it’s standing still. I am in awe of Shawn’s body; this “god of muscle” is standing before me, and all I want to do is spend eternity worshiping. My formerly smaller roommate is now towering over me, and all I can see is hard, rippling muscle in every direction – and I am both turned on and frightened. Not necessarily frightened of Shawn, but frightened by how much I want to give him more growth. What have I become? Fortunately, Shawn is oblivious to my whirlwind of thoughts. “Let’s start with height. The world feels different from up here.” I pull on my underwear before we get going – but no time for anything more – Shawn is too eager. As I’m trying to unravel the tape measure, I realize that there’s no way I’m going to be able to measure something that tall – I can reach up there, but I can’t actually see the mark on the tape measure. I grab my rickety collapsible metal study chair from my desk – it wobbles a bit as I climb up to reach Shawn’s head. “It looks as if you’ve hit six feet and two inches according to the tape measure.” “Almost a whole foot taller! No wonder everything looks so different. Let’s move to chest.” I can’t reach around his chest, so I wrap the tape measure around his waist. “32 inches.” Shawn flexes his abs – it looks as if a brick wall just exploded under his skin – the ridges of the abdominals and obliques stand out sharply. I re-measure his waist. “Still 32 inches.” But there’s not an ounce of fat anywhere – it’s all solid muscle. And then with some effort, I shimmy/slide the tape up to his chest. Shawn stands at attention and flexes his chest and back – I almost drop the tape. “58 inches! That’s thick.” And to paraphrase a meme: I’m not drooling! You’re drooling! I wrap the tape measure around his thigh – it’s thick and I can feel the striations in the muscle moving around under his skin. “30-inch thighs!” Shawn’s not fully hard, but he definitely has more than just a semi. The tape measure shows 14 inches, with 10 inches of girth. “And now my biceps.” Shawn raises his right arm – keeping it straight out from his body. I wrap the tape measure around the bicep – he’s not flexing, but the arm is already impressively thick. I can see veins running along the bicep and connecting to a roadmap in his forearms. Shawn flexes his bicep. I just want to lick it. “Are you gonna measure that?” Shawn’s amused. “Oh yeah, sure.” I grasp one end of the tape measure and pull the other end: “22 fucking inches.” “Excellent. This is fucking amazing! I need to go throw some serious weight around.” “Shawn, I don’t think the gym’s going to have enough weights to challenge you.” “We’ll see about that.” He seems pleased and amused and has a bit of a far-off look in his eye. “But after the gym, I’m going to want another round with you. But you seem to keep disappearing on me.” “Shawn…” He’s looking around the room – and fixates on my rickety metal study chair. “This will do.” Shawn picks up the chair and proceeds to rip it apart with his bare hands. “Shawn! That’s my chair!” “I want you here when I get back. And so… Get on the bed.” I hesitate, wondering if I can make a run for it. But I’m just in my underwear, I haven’t had time to get dressed. “I’m being nice here, giving you the opportunity to have a comfortable place. Or, we can do this in a less comfortable spot.” Realizing that I’m not getting out of the room, I climb onto my bed. Shawn easily manipulates the metal frame into a makeshift set of rings. “Reach up, I’m tying you to the bedframe.” He wraps one of the rings around the bedframe and then around my wrist – initially getting it uncomfortably tight, but he sees the look of pain run across my face and adjusts the metal ring so that it’s tight but not pinching. He does the same with the other ring. I am now lying on my back with one arm tied to each bedpost. In any other circumstance, this would be insanely hot. People would pay money for this! But for some reason, I can’t seem to appreciate that right now. “Shawn. You can’t tie me up against my will. This isn’t right, and you know it.” “Listen little buddy. I need you to be here. And if you would just stop running away, I wouldn’t have to do this. Besides, I am going to go and blow through my lifts and pump these muscles to their max – and then me and my sweaty, pumped muscles are going to come right back here and rescue you.” Ok. Ok! I admit it. I’m turned on. Even my spent dick stirred at the thought of Shawn coming back sweaty and pumped. Shawn struggles to put on his workout clothes. Nothing fits and everything looks ridiculous on his gigantic frame. He settles on a muscle shirt that hides nothing and a pair of basketball shorts that now look like spandex. And nothing is capable of hiding his massive package. “I’ll be back. You wait here little buddy.” Shawn gives me a wink and a smile that somehow, in spite of the fact that he’s just tied me up, still manages to give me butterflies. I can hear him lock the door from the other side. I’m alone. “Fuck.”
  10. WHY YOU SHOULDN’T TRUST SAUL BENNETT By absman420 “I’m home!!!!” “Tino!’ called the bigger man, opening his arms and smiling wide. The little bodybuilder jumped into his embrace.. “Daddy!” he called his husband, lovingly. They kissed -- and the bigger man could already feel the little bodybuilder’s erection pressing into him. “I’ve missed you so much!” “You’ve only been gone a week, boy.” They kissed anyway. “I know,” little Tino said. “I wanna fuck so bad.” The bigger man smiled coyly. “Horny little Tino,” he said, rubbing the back of his husband’s head while he squeezed his ass. “You wanna fuck first, or get settled?” Tino pulled away from the kissing, looking his man in the face. “Fuck,” he said, smiling. “I want to fuck. But I want to give you your present first.” The bigger man flicked his eyebrows. “Something kinky, I hope?” he asked. “You got another hot boy stashed in your bag?” “Ha!” the little bodybuilder said. “I’m sharing you with no one today. I need that big porn-star cock all to myself!” He broke their hug after a quick peck on the lips and turned to his bags. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” For New York, for the Upper West Side, it was a spacious apartment, but Tino missed LA -- he missed the weather and his friends -- and he secretly wondered how long his hubby would keep them secluded here? They hadn’t had to move to the other side of the country because his husband didn’t want to be a porn star anymore. No matter where they went, his man was always gonna be Big Mick Masterman, whose dick was legend. Nearly eleven inches when completely hard -- Big Mick would joke about feeling light-headed when it was at its max -- his dick was so large, it would’ve looked out-of-proportion if Mick hadn’t been so big himself. Not a bodybuilder like Tino -- all cuts and aesthetics and shiny hardness -- Mick was a beast of a man, thick and strong and exuding the cocky power of the well-hung Alpha. Was he past his prime? Probably by just a hair, depending on what you considered “prime”. He’d done hundreds of movies, thousands of scenes, countless guest appearances, but no matter how good it’s been, biology is biology -- once your dick stops working, you don’t work in porn. Nobody wants a limp-dicked daddy. And Big Mick Masterman was no bottom. Since turning 50, his dick stopped behaving for him the way it did twenty years ago, when even testosterone on the breeze would get him hard. In truth, it wasn’t just his dick, his whole body was betraying him, turning into an old man right in front of him -- sagging, softening -- but for a man who’d built a whole career out of his amazing dong, Big Mick’s focus was always his cock. Once Tino dug out the little box he’d buried in his suitcase, he found Big Mick prepping the Tri-Mix vial he’d gotten out of the fridge. Tino smiled -- he’d be glad when Mick got rid of that shit. Injecting your cock to get hard….? Tino thought. Yuck! “So tell me about LA,” Mick said, pulling an insulin syringe from the drawer, using it to point to Tino’s box. “Is that my present?” “Hold your horses,” Tino said, putting the small cardboard box on the opposite counter. “I have a story.” Mick smiled slightly. “Of course you do.” Tino pursed his lips at the bigger man. He took a big breath and said, as if confessing, “So… while I was out there, I ran into Saul Bennett...” “Oh, Jesus,” Mick groaned, dropping the insulin syringe on the counter. “You wanna kill ANY chance of me getting hard, right?” “Stop it,” Tino chided. “It was a nice conversation. It wasn’t an easy decision for him…” But Big Mick was already annoyed. “Oh, come on, Tino!” he said, a touch of anger. “He cancelled my contract. I was one of the biggest names in the fucking business and he cancelled my contract because I had ED. I mean, what the fuck? He fuckin’ ruined my career, Tino!” Tino was still calm. “He feels really bad, Mick.” “Yeah, I bet! Do you know how much money he fucking lost when he cut me? Let me tell you something: Saul doesn’t feel bad because of what he did to my self-esteem, or my reputation, or my fucking life! He feels bad because he lost revenue. Saul Bennett gives a shit about nothing but money, Tino. I thought you knew that.” Tino sighed. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I should’ve just given this to you without explanation.” He handed the small, cardboard box to Big Mick, who took it humorlessly. “This is from Saul?” Mick asked. “He feels really bad, Mick.” There was a moment when Tino was unsure if Mick would throw it, crush it, or open it -- frankly, there was a moment when Mick was unsure, too -- ultimately, Mick tore the little sticker keeping the lid closed and opened it up. Two little vials held by styrofoam cushioning, one contained pink liquid, the other blue. “What is it?” Mick asked. Tino had a devious smile. “It’s a little something-something so you won’t need THAT,” he said, pointing to the Tri-Mix and the syringe. “Mixed by one of Saul’s little… alchemist friends. Apparently, it’s the latest thing to keep porn-stars on the working roster.” Mick looked at him suspiciously. “Really?” he asked, softening. Tino shrugged. “No harm in trying.” Mick looked at the box and considered it for all of five seconds -- even his anger at Saul paled next to his desire for a good erection. “So what do I do?” Smiling, Tino stepped over to him and pulled the vials from the box. He handed the blue one to Mick. “One for you,” he said, keeping the pink one, “and one for me.” “Really?” Mick chuckled. “Blue and pink?” Tino smiled, pursing his lips at Mick. “Wanna trade?” he asked. “Why? Will the pink one turn me into a girl?” “Haha,” Tino said. “No, the pink one is gonna make me able to take what the blue one is gonna do to you!” He unscrewed the cap and quickly drank his down, making a face at the taste. “He said it takes about twenty minutes to hit -- i’m gonna clean up real quick. Cum join me when you’re ready.” And with that, Tino slunk to the bathroom. Big Mick couldn’t help but look at Tino’s muscular ass as the boy exited, He was lucky Tino’d stayed with him through the whole ED thing -- a hot number like him could have anybody. The least Mick could do was indulge a trial solution -- no matter that it had been provided by fucking Saul Bennett. With that, he unscrewed the cap and drank the contents of the vial -- no taste, maybe it was a placebo. Following Tino to the bedroom, he kept the Tri-Mix handy, He was already horny -- Tino had been gone a whole week, after all, and Big Mick wasn’t a big masturbator. It took a lot of work to get an eleven-inch cock hard -- it took even more lately -- he didn’t like to waste it on nothing. Stripping his shirt off, he could hear Tino in the shower, so he knew he had enough time to get his cockring and jockstrap on. Looking at his bulky self in the mirror, he flexed a most-muscular and pinched the barbells in his pierced nipples. Whoa! -- okay, THAT was electric -- a freaking WAVE of horny washing over him. Damn, even his dick was coming to life. He stripped off his jeans and his boxer briefs and stretched a hard rubber cockring around his juicy balls -- it was difficult enough to get his huge dick through the ring when it was soft, but it was thickening up fast, further delighting Mick, though he clumsily succeeded. His dick hung there at a slight angle, looking untroubled and confident. Maybe he wasn’t in the best shape anymore, but damn if his dick didn’t make up for it. He slipped on his NASTY PIG quilted leather jock, which made him look even bigger. Flopping in the big leather recliner across from the bed, he continued playing with his nipples as he waited for Tino. It wasn’t long before he heard the shower turn off. Just in time, as far as Mick was concerned -- he was getting damn horny -- frankly, he was starting not to care if the boy was clean at all. Mick was ready for some action. And he was starting to feel confident that his dick was ready, too. Tino slipped into the room, shiny and smooth, a tiny towel wrapped around his tiny hips. Usually short bodybuilders had thick waists, but Tino’s was so small and lean that it made his ass look gigantic by comparison -- when he was in a playful mood, he joked that he should become an underwear model or a professional stripper. Slyly smiling, he stood before Big Mick’s chair and posed for him, flexing his beautiful body. “Daddy want a lap dance?” he asked, hips swaying. Tino stepped up into the leather recliner, feet on either side of Mick’s hips -- the chair was sturdy enough, they’d proved it before -- the little towel he wore around his waist fell away, revealing the soft white thong he wore beneath, his cute little balls bouncing with each thrust. “Very nice, boy,” Big Mick mumbled, stroking the boy’s rock hard quads. “Lemme see that ass.” The boy turned to imaginary music, dancing like his hips were doing the seduction. For such massive legs, his ass was still round and tight, like he was still the college wrestler he’d been when the two had met, so many years ago. Tino squatted slightly and twerked in Mick’s face, shaking his muscular glutes, the strap of his thong visible as it ran down the crack of his ass. It was beautiful. Mick reached between Tino’s legs and grabbed the boy’s package, like his hand was a cockring -- he shoved his face between the halves of Tino’s ass, immediately tasting the boy’s hot hole -- clean, but with a slight hint of soap. Tino moaned immediately. “Yeah, big daddy,” he growled as Mick shoved his tongue in. God damn that man loved ass. His rough facial hair teased Tino’s hole. Mick didn’t realize how horny he was. Fuck, he wanted this boy -- wanted to dominate him and own him. He felt like a fucking teenager who’d never tasted a man before. The strap from the thong was getting in his way, but he could feel Tino’s cock getting hard in the pouch -- why couldn’t the boy like jockstraps, like normal people? So much easier to eat his ass. He looked good in anything -- or out of anything. Big Mick’s big dick thickened in his own pouch. He took his free hand off his nipple and reached down to help himself along. His cock filled his hand and was growing fast. He would’ve commented about it if his mouth hadn’t been full -- and if he hadn’t been so damn horny. “Fuck, boy,” he said, licking Tino’s hole, “suck my cock. I need your hot mouth.” “Oh yeah, Daddy,” he moaned, stepping down from the chair, kneeling his big bod between Mick’s outstretched legs. When the little bodybuilder saw Mick’s half-hard cock, growing there in Mick’s grip, he happily replaced Mick’s hand with his, and smiled slyly as he took the bigger man’s cock in his mouth. Warm and wet -- what a mouth -- Mick could feel himself hardening. He rolled his head back and shut his eyes, enjoying the sensation of his growing erection -- his hard-on was delighting him almost as much as the blow job. Was this the effects of Saul Bennett’s little potion? He couldn’t even get mad at Saul, the mother-fucker, that’s how good he felt -- like a man. Like a fucking man. Like a fucking man who hadn’t shot his fucking load in a week. His balls felt as full as his cock. He felt Tino’s hands holding them and tickling the back of his sac -- even his balls felt bigger. Huge fucking load. Suddenly, he realized his cock was rock hard -- a teen-aged erection -- a throbbing, needful, helpless kind of erection. Familiar and nearly forgotten -- an old friend found alive -- and with it came confidence, a confidence Mick had almost forgotten, as if it were even bigger -- if that were possible for a nearly-eleven-inch cock -- or had it been that long that it had BEEN this hard? He had to fuck. God damn, he had to fuck. He had to take this rock-hard cock and fuck with it. So fucking horny. He stood then, causing Tino to lose his balance and fall back on his butt. Mick grabbed him by the back of the neck and pushed the little bodybuilder toward the bed. Tino allowed himself to be taken, loving the confidence his husband exuded -- it was like the old days. On his back, his legs open, he could feel Mick’s cock press against his hole -- throbbing, alive, it wasn’t the product of injectable tri-mix, it was a genuine, sexually-stimulated erection, and it was eager to make up for lost time. The cock may have even felt bigger as it entered Tino’s ass, or maybe it had been so long that Tino had forgotten the full extent of Big Mick Masterman -- he was glad for the reminder. Mick didn’t waste any time. Standing beside the bed, he sank balls-deep in Tino’s hole, putting the entirety of his eleven-inch cock into the little bodybuilder in a single thrust.. Tino gasped. “Holy shit, a little warm up…” But Mick ignored him. He was muttering, “Need this so bad, fuck,” as he slowly withdrew his meat, then slammed it home again. “Fuck…” “Damn, honey....” But if Mick was listening, Tino couldn’t tell -- his eyes were kind of far-away, his mouth slightly open, a corner turned up in pleasure. Mick was lost in that pleasure, the resurgence of his alpha station. It was like the old days, back in his twenties, when the world was one big hole and Mick ached to fuck it hard -- not like it had been for the last year when life was fucking him. He fucked Tino like he’d suddenly remembered how to -- he was a battering ram. He was a porn star again. It didn’t surprise either of them that he’d orgasmed as quickly as he did -- not that that really slowed him down. He barely missed a beat and kept on pounding toward number two, using his cum as lube -- it leaked out of Tino’s hole. Tino would pass out around the fifth, so he wasn’t sure where it ended -- all he knew was that hours later when he lost consciousness (from exhaustion), Big Mick was still fucking him. What the hell had Saul Bennett given him? ******************************************************* Tino woke to the light of dawn, a beam of sunshine across his face. He was on his side, spooned by Mick -- and the first thing he realized was that Mick was still inside him, that huge cock still hard, filling him past the point of comfort. Even in his sleep, Mick gently thrust in and out, like he was dreaming of a fuck. Tino was afraid to wake him. The relentless, non-stop pounding Mick had given his ass last night was enough -- he couldn’t imagine it starting again. Slowly, gently, Tino slid off Mick’s cock, his hole so defeated that there wasn’t even a “pop” when the gargantuan head came out. Mick’s cock had felt huge inside him -- bigger than Tino had remembered it, even when last it had been fully hard, years ago before last night. As Tino quietly sat up on the edge of the bed, the movement seemed to disturb Mick -- his breathing changed slightly. They’d been together long enough that Tino knew even the most subtle change in Mick when asleep. He waited a moment until he heard Mick sink back deeply, then he stood, waiting to see if that changed anything, then he took a step and turned around, just enough to glance at his man. The first thing to catch his eye was Mick’s cock -- how could it not? -- it was gigantic! Truly gigantic, as the head of it slapped the very bottom of his abs with every dreamy thrust Mick took, leaving a little trail of cum between the slit and his core. Mick’s cock had never been THIS big -- not even in his prime! Mick’s cock measured out at just over 11-inches when fully hard, formidable on its own -- the cock he had now was well over a foot long, possibly as long as fourteen inches… and substantially thicker. How on earth could Tino have taken that? It wasn’t just the cock, though the cock held his attention -- that cock would hold ANY man’s attention, gay or straight -- it was beyond possible. The stuff of fantasy. But it wasn’t just his cock -- no, it was his balls, too. Tino had never seen balls so big on any man, except maybe those guys who have injections, or implants or whatever. Because of his heavy steroid cycles, Mick’s gonads had all but atrophied, shrunken well smaller than average -- he joked that it made his cock look bigger by comparison. The balls he had now were easily in proportion with his over-sized cock, easily as big as lemons, maybe avocados. The weight of them gently pulled on the base of that big dick, causing it to pulse even more. And then Tino widened his focus and saw Mick in his entirety. It wasn’t just his cock and his balls -- it was all of him! Mick was… Mick was… Mick was massive. Diesel. Tino had been the bodybuilder -- Tino had been the competitor -- Mick was the proud daddy who watched from the side, proud of his boy, but not looking for the attention himself. He had his own audience, and he didn’t think the two should mix. Mick had loved being a porn-star -- and he joked that he had a better build for that, anyway. (Imagine Mick’s dick in posers!) Mick had always had a bulky, muscular thing going on, big and thick, but not ripped -- no perfect abs for Big Mick Masterman. No need. Though to Tino’s disappointment, Mick had been going soft lately. THIS Mick, the Mick in their bed, was a very different man. This Mick was a bodybuilder -- this Mick could’ve just stepped off the competition stage -- this Mick was muscular and ripped, heavily-veined and pumped. The only thing ruining the illusion was the body hair -- Mick had always been hirsute (his back alone kept his waxer employed full-time) -- but this morning, Mick was covered with a layer of rough, short hair -- his shoulders, his arms, everything. The stubble on his face was heavy, like he could grow a beard in a day. Was his brow a little thicker, as well? He looked like he’d overdosed on testosterone, like he was tripping on some crazy hormone sauce… Saul! THAT SHIT SAUL HAD GIVEN THEM! Is that what had done this? It HAD to have been! Horrified, Tino quickly waddled his way to the bathroom, grabbing his phone off the dresser on the way past. The first thing he did was examine himself in the mirror -- if Saul’s formula had done that to Mick, what had the stuff he’d taken done to HIM? And the answer was… nothing that he could see. What had Saul said? He’d said the pink vial would make Tino able to take what the blue vial would do to Mick. The horror of that sunk in, which caused him to relax just enough that the cum that had been inside him started to leak down his muscular thigh. Fuck... Sitting on the toilet, easily a gallon of Mick’s cum rushed out of him, wetly filling the bowl with its salty scent. Why wasn’t he sore? Exhausted, yes, but not sore. What had that shit done? He said, “Call Saul Bennett” into his phone, quietly, though he was pretty sure Mick couldn’t hear him with the bathroom door closed. It took the phone a few seconds to connect -- longer for Saul to pick up. “It’s five o’clock in the morning, Tino,” Bennett mumbled from his end. “Why the fuck you calling me at five o’clock in the fucking morning?” “What was in that stuff, Saul?” Tino said, angrily. “What the fuck did you give him?” A sleepy laugh over the line, an evil chuckle. “I guess you guys used my gift,” he said. “What’d you think, Tino? Bet you haven’t got nailed like that in a while.” “Fuck you, Saul.” Saul laughed. “I think you got all the fucking, Tino. How’d you get away from him long enough to call me? He’s not fucking anybody else right now, is he?” “No!” Tino said in a whisper louder than he’d wanted. “He passed out sometime during the night and I’m sitting here in the bathroom emptying myself out! What the fuck, Saul?” “Okay. You definitely don’t want him fucking anybody else.” “Yeah, I’ll try to stop him. You should see him, Saul! He’s fucking HUGE! Did you know that would happen, Saul? Did you know? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” “I’m telling you now, don’t let him fuck anybody else.” Tino sighed (and the final bit of cum dripped out of him). “Why don’t you want him fucking anybody else? Why do you keep saying that, Saul? What aren’t you telling me?” There was a slight pause on the other end of the phone that Tino was about ready to interrupt when Saul spoke. “Let’s just say… the stuff I gave him? Well… it’s communicable.” “What?” “It means other people can catch it…” “I know what ‘communicable’ means, Saul,” Tino sighed again, his patience nearly gone. “What did you fucking give him?” Saul chuckled again -- the bastard. He said, “I’m giving him his career back, Tino.” A beat of silence where Tino didn’t respond, so Saul continued. “Tino, what the fuck good is a total top who can’t get hard -- can’t even get hard with an injectable, you know? I mean, he totally fucked his own head! I had to give him some time off.” “‘Time off’,” Tino mocked. “You know that ‘time off’ fucking destroyed him, right? You act like it was some kind of sabbatical and you were going to welcome him back! He was done -- except for a few guest appearances, his career was all but over! Once word got out that he was given some ‘time off’ because of ED, nobody would even ‘like’ his social-media posts!” Saul Bennett sighed. “Look… I’m sorry for that. It took my guys at the lab longer to come up with a solution that I thought. But here we are, Tino! And if I understand you correctly, the problem’s solved, right? Big Mick Masterman gets a triumphant return AND a major series! It’s gonna be awesome! I got HUGE plans for Mick, Tino -- we’re gonna make a fucking fortune!” Tino sighed again, more impatiently than before. “What did you fucking do to him, Saul?” “Turned him back into a top,” Saul said, matter-of-factly. “Cranked up the hormones and turned him into a hyper-masculine super-stud. How big is he, Tino? I bet he’s fucking huge!” “This is crazy,” Tino said to himself. As he stood, he realized he hadn’t cleaned himself up completely -- Big Mick’s cum still ran down his leg. He grabbed a hand-towel and started wiping himself. He wanted to hop in the shower, but he didn’t dare wake Mick -- not until he knew what was going on. “And what did you mean when you said he was communicable?” There was a pause, again long enough that Tino almost repeated himself, when Saul confessed, “So there’s a… side effect of the compound. If he fucks somebody who hasn’t had the antidote, they… also transform into a hyper-masculine super-top, just like him. Think of it, Tino,” Saul continued, and Tino swore he was drooling, “It’s a series. Big Mick fucks some fem little twink and transforms him into another out-of-control, unstoppable muscle-top -- then we follow the fun as they transform all the major bottom boys from all the other major studios. I’m calling it ‘Fuck Zombies -- The Series!’ It’s gonna be huge, Tino -- HUGE!” Tino was nearly speechless. “But he fucked ME,” he whispered. “Why didn’t that happen to me?” A small snort. “Cause you took the antidote, Tino. I told you, the pink vial made you able to take anything the blue vial did to your husband. It’s not just that you can’t catch the virus,” Saul explained, “but physically, it made you able to take the pounding one of these guys can give you and not get your ass torn apart. You’re my Ace in the Hole, Tino -- so to speak.” “You’re crazy…” Saul Bennett’s chuckle was nothing short of evil -- super-villain evil -- he was fucking PROUD of what he’d done! “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Tino,” he said, in a patronizing tone he hadn’t had before, “I need you to get him to me here in LA -- that’s your job. Well, your job is REALLY to get him here without him fucking anybody along the way. We wouldn’t want a pandemic to start, would we? You get him to me, we film this series -- ten films, twelve on the outside -- and then I’ll release him to you, good as new!” Tino was horrified. He stood, shouting, “You monster!” into the phone. “You fucking MONSTER!” And then he heard a sound from the bedroom -- fuck, he’d been too loud! He’d woken Mick. “Oh, fuck!” he whispered. “What’s going on, Tino?” “I woke him up.” A sound then, from the bedroom. “Fu-u-u-u-uck…” -- a moan -- “Fuck YEAH!” “Oh, fuck,” Tino said, panicking. “What do I do? What do I do?” Saul said, “Turn the camera on, for fuck’s sake. I wanna see this!” Tino could hear Mick in the bedroom, trudging around, his breathing heavy, his voice rough. “Fuck yes! Oh… oh, fuck… Fuck YEAH!!!!” And then the unmistakable sounds of Mick having an orgasm -- it went on and on, as Tino’s panic-level rose. And then he was pounding on the bathroom door, a dull, repetitive thud. Tino got the camera on just as Mick broke the door down, so he and Saul saw the same thing. Big Mick stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the morning light behind him, his new mass making him even bigger than Tino expected -- he was truly a monster, a diesel freak. Muscular, hairy, radiating power -- and then the unbelievable cock that stood there, rock hard, dripping freely, throbbing along with Mick’s heartbeat. A muscle-morph made real. Tino’s first thought upon seeing Mick’s cock? “I’m able to TAKE that?” Saul’s first thought upon seeing Mick’s cock? Very different -- he saw dollar signs. He began to record the call. Mick made eye-contact with Tino and growled -- he grabbed his dick -- slowly, a predator, he advanced. “Fuck,” he muttered, crazed, incapable of rational thought. “Gotta fuck…” Tino held his hands in front of him (giving Saul a front row seat). “Mick,” Tino pleaded. “Mick, please... listen to me…” And then Mick charged, causing Tino to drop the phone as he protected himself. The phone clattered to the floor and flipped -- and Saul ended up with an up-shot of the action, seeing the whole scene from below. It wasn’t the worst porn-angle in the world. Mick threw Tino over the counter and just started fucking him -- using his own cum as lube, he somehow managed to push his freakish thing into Tino’s over-worked hole. Flexing for himself in the mirror above the sink while he fucked, turned-on by his own incredible physique, he drooled like an animal. Tino had little choice but to take it -- even with Tino’s impressive size, he was no match for the monster his husband had become. All he could do was take it -- fortunately, Saul Bennett had made him able to take it. Mick’s cock was SO big… he hated that he liked it so much. “Saul?” Tino called as Mick ravaged him, between Mick’s powerful thrusts. “Saul, are you still there?” Mick suddenly fucked him harder, angrily. “Fuck Saul…” the beast muttered. From the floor, he could hear Saul’s voice. “I’m here, Tino -- he’s spectacular! You gotta get him to me, Tino. That’s’ all you gotta do. Get him to me. Now, lift your leg a little, you’re blocking my view of his cock.” How the fuck was Tino supposed to get Mick all the way across country to LA? It was impossible. Mick began long-dicking his hole, pulling his fourteen-inch shaft nearly all the way out before slamming it all the way back in to the root. Over and over again -- Tino was nearly delirious, ecstacy and horror mixed together. Fuck. Fuck you, Saul Bennett, he thought, while being fucked. How the fuck am I gonna do this? Between orgasms, Tino started to plot. AUTHOR’S AFTERWORD: Hey, all -- absman420 here again! Feels like a cliff-hanger, doesn’t it? I mean, there’s easily a chapter (maybe two) in Tino getting Big Mick to LA -- plane? Train? Auto? -- and then, there’s as many chapters as one could imagine as Mick turns industry twink bottoms to Fuck Zombie Super-Tops before Tino does (or doesn’t) get Saul to keep his deal and release Mick from his “contract” (haha) Could be quite a series. One I don’t want to write. That said, if anybody DOES want to contribute a chapter, please feel free to add one on! I’m very cool with the IDEA of this being a series, I just don’t have the time to do it justice myself. I only ask that you reference this story -- and me -- when you submit something. Otherwise, go to town! Tattcub has already written a story thread and posted it on this forum ("Priapus Pictures") and he inspired me to write a chapter myself (the upcoming "Twink Number Twelve").
  11. THE NEW ADVENTURES OF KAKE & PEKKA (A TOM of FINLAND Rhapsody) By Absman420 It's because of the heavy, pea-soup fog that you don't see the man tied to a tree until you're right on top of him. You've been hiking the Appalachian Trail through the Shenandoah Valley, heading north back home to Maryland for the past few weeks and absolutely nothing has been out of the ordinary -- until this fog rolled in. And the man you find tied to the tree. The fog had caused you to get off the main trail, though you weren't worried about it. You knew that if you continued to head north, you'd eventually come to one of the many small backroads that criss-cross the area and find your way back to where you were supposed to be. Lucky you did, or who knows how long this guy would've been trapped here. He's hugging the tree, tied from wrist to wrist with a course rope. Your first thought is "Thank God he's not dead!" because you see him moving, struggling against his bonds. Then you realize what you see -- and you wonder, "Maybe I've stepped onto the set of a porn movie...?" He's a hugely muscular man, although fairly out of proportion in the upper body -- big arms, shoulders, a thick, bull-like neck -- with an impossibly thin waist that not only emphasizes his upper body, but also makes his ass -- his muscular bubble butt -- pop. He wears calf-high motorcycle boots on his lean, muscular legs and a sleeveless white t-shirt that doesn't even reach his waist. Most telling, the black leather motorcycle cap -- the kind worn by old-school gay leathermen channeling Marlon Brando makes you wonder if you've really encountered someone in trouble, or someone making a movie...? You call to him. "Buddy? Are you okay?" He turns his head and faces you and you're awestruck by his beauty. Impossibly handsome, a strong square jaw and cleft chin, dark hair, long sideburns, beautiful, bedroom eyes hidden beneath the shadows of his cap. He looks tired... but satisfied -- there's a bit of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. "I suppose you are going to fuck me, too," he says, and you can't quite place his accent -- Nordic, maybe. "They told me that others would come -- they promised." "How long have you been here?" you ask, shedding your backpack to access your small hatchet. "It is hard to tell time in all this fog," he says. "Long enough to make me wonder if they are sending anyone. What a waste of a morning. Not even the police could find me in all this fog." "But you're not hurt?" you ask, pulling the hatchet from it's pouch and turning to free him. "Oh, HELL no!" he says, smiling broadly. "Well, only when my cock rubs up against the bark of this tree." He laughs. "Those boys were so HUNG, too! They told me they would sending others -- I was hoping." "I'll have you free in a second," you say, preparing to cut the rope. He looks concerned, which you mistake for fear, until he says, "Are you sure you do not want a go at me before you cut me free? I mean, a handsome young man tied up and helpless and perhaps a little eager, too, yes? Look at this ass -- you would not be disappointed." He wiggles it for you, muscular and round. You don't know how to react -- you stammer. Here is a half-naked man who's been tied to a tree and apparently gang-raped and he wants to know if YOU want a piece of him, too! He takes your silence as a cue to continue. "Oh, I understand," he says. "You are embarrassed with your size! I can see that you are small, but do not worry -- I have a very talented hole, with much control and strength. I will be giving you a great fuck." "No..." you say. "No, that's not..." "Then you are a bottom only? Is that what it is? Would you like to trade positions?" Instead of answering him, you raise the hatchet and cleanly cut through the rope that binds him. When he steps back, you get your first look at the entirety of him -- and your sense of shock doesn't abate. If his backside was exaggerated, it's nothing compared to his front. His chest is impressively large, appearing to be even larger because of his tiny waist. The sleeveless t-shirt he wears clings to his over-sized nipples with the legend "FUCKER" printed across it -- it doesn't even reach to his navel. But all that is secondary to his gigantic genitals. As he stretches, his cock starts to harden -- easily as big as your forearm -- exposing the two lemon-sized balls hanging heavily behind it. "Ah, that feels good," he says, raising his arms up in the air and placing his hands behind his head -- then he looks at you and indicates his cock. "Do you want to feel it for yourself?" It is now rock hard, arching up to nearly the base of his pecs -- the head throbs a blushing red, a single pearl of pre-cum on the tip. It's nearly irresistible -- this obscenity -- you find yourself drawn to it, regardless of the insanity of the situation. What the hell is going on here? "Again you hesitate," he says. "Am I not the most perfect example of man that you've ever seen? Even in this land, I am one of the biggest and the best. Yet, you hesitate. Where are you from, outlander -- what repressed, Puritan land do you call home? America?" He laughs at his own joke, but can tell by your reaction that he's stumbled on the truth. "Oh. I'm so sorry." His dick mirrors his emotion by softening a tad, still impressive. "It's not that," you say. "I just don't understand..." He advances on you. "This is not a time for thinking," he says, smirking. "You've just saved me. NOW is the time for rewards earned." He wraps the rope around the back of your head and pulls you toward him. You fall on your knees. With his cock literally in your face, it's impossible to control yourself anymore -- you flat-tongue his big piece from base to tip. It's like licking a baseball bat made of hard flesh. "Oh, fuck yeah," he moans. "Finally." He leans against the tree he was just tied to, putting one booted foot up behind him, releasing the rope so he can pinch his own nipple -- he knows you're not going anywhere. It's so monstrously big you can do little more than lap at it, running the flat of your tongue up and down the thick shaft -- the head alone is the size of a Gallen Apple -- your entire hand doesn't even go around it. How on Earth could you be expected to put that in your mouth, let alone your ass? So you do your best, which seems to be satisfying him, if his breathing is any indication. You're hard as a rock, too -- three weeks hiking the Appalachian Trail alone, remember -- shamelessly rubbing yourself against his boot as you work his enviable cock. You've never thought of yourself as small -- your eight inches has brought you (and others) nothing but delight -- but you're a banana compared to a skyscraper next to him. You're probably gonna cum without even getting your dick out of your pants. And then you hear it -- you both hear it -- voices coming through the fog, out of the woods. "Where the fuck is he?"-- "Over here, not far." -- "Damn fog!" He speaks first, raising his head and pursing his lips. "NOW they come! And after I have been all rescued." He strokes the back of your head affectionately, then pulls you away from his softening cock. "But perhaps we should go," he says, looking in the direction of the sound. "It was a hot scene, but quite brutal. I am not sure you would fare so well against them -- they are lumberjacks... and quite large." He indicates his cock. You're immediately on your feet -- your own erection vanished -- your fear level rising. (There were more like HIM?) "What'll we do?" you ask him, sotto voce. "The road is that way," he says, pointing in the direction opposite of the voices. "It is where I left my bike." Then he smiles. "And my pants." We hear the voices again. "Where are you, Leather Boy?" one calls, the same accent as the man you rescued, the one who now seems to be rescuing you. "Are you ready for more fun?" They're close -- within a hundred yards. "Come," he says to you, motioning to follow him. "Can you run in those... things?" He indicates your hiking boots, top of the line models, like he's never seen anything like them before. "Faster than you," you say -- and you aren't nearly kidding. You grab your pack and follow him blindly into the forest, back into the dense fog. The two of you hold hands for fear of getting lost, but at least he seems to know the way, taking confident strides through the thick pine trees, this half-naked man beside you, his giant cock flopping back and forth. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it registers that this forest is much older than the one in the Shenandoah Valley where you've been hiking -- everything's different. But it occurs to you that YOU are the one in the wrong place, not the other way around. You eventually come upon a road -- although "road" is a bit misleading, barely more than a semi-paved trail through the forest. A Mountain Road, clearly used for little more than logging. His motorcycle is parked just off the packed dirt, next to one of the massive pines that make up the area, his leather pants draped over the handlebars. "There, see? Just where I left it!" "How did all of this happen?" you ask as he puts the pants on, kicking off one boot, sliding his foot through the pant leg and back into the boot again, then repeating on the other side. "I had stopped by the side of the road to piss," he says, carefully tucking his huge cock down the leg -- it reaches his mid-thigh, then buttons up. His over-sized genitals make an obscene bulge in the worn leather pants. "And these loggers came upon me." He snorts his disdain. "Loggers -- they rape the country side," he says. "And anyone they come across in it, as well." That brings his smirk back. "Come," he says, righting the bike and kick-starting the engine. "There is a Service Station a kilometer or so down the road where I work. We will be safe there -- and we can figure out what to do about you." As tempted as you are to go with him, as hungry as you are for another chance at that crazy dick of his, instead you say, "Listen, this is all just a little bit too much for me. Just point me in the direction of the trail and I'll be on my way." He is genuinely confused. "What trail? What trail is this?" "The Appalachian Trail. I can't be more than a couple miles off -- it's gotta intersect around here someplace." "My friend, there is no trail, not by that or any name. Come with me -- we will be safe at the Service Station. We can figure out what is confusing you." You are defensive. "Nothing's confusing me!" "Except you do not know where you are -- you speak of places that do not exist. Your size concerns me enough, but that you do wear such odd things on your feet. Do you not even have a pair of boots?" "These ARE boots!" He sighs, frustrated, crossing his arms before his massive chest while straddling the motorcycle. "Do you even know your name?" he asks. "Well, it's not like we've had time for proper introductions..." He barks a laugh. "Yes! And when being chased by rapists, when is the best time for this? If you must know, I am Kake." (It sounds to you like he said "COCK-uh" -- but with his accent, it's hard to be sure.) "What did you say your name was?" "Kake. K-A-K-E. It is Finnish." (Yup, "cock-uh" -- that's what he said.) You react to this, not his name. "Finnish? Really? My surname is Finnish!" He acts as if he's never heard of such a thing. "'Surname'...?" "My last name," you say. "It's Pekka!" His jaw drops. It's the first time you've seen an emotion on his face unconnected to lust -- in a way, it's disconcerting. "What?" he asks, squinching his eyebrows. "What did you say?" "My last name... is Pekka." He is fighting the smile that's breaking out on his face. "No," he says. "It's not possible. It can't be..." "What?" He studies you more closely than he has before. "But it IS!" he says, rubbing his chin. "I see it in your eyes, in the shape of your face. It's true -- and it explains EVERYTHING!" He steps off the bike and hugs you, kissing you on each cheek -- his cock has come back to life, pushing hard against the constraining leather. "Now you MUST come with me, Pekka," he whispers in my ear. "At the Service Station, there is something I must give you." You assume he means that big dick of his. And there's a part of you -- a growing part of you -- that figures, what the hell? You're not on a deadline and you've gone weeks without -- is this any different than taking advantage of any other bounty that crosses your path? It's the old saw about the hiker and the farmer's daughter... sort of. Which is how you find yourself riding down the road hugged up close to him, your arms wrapped around his waist, the smell of his heavy leather jacket in your nostrils. Between the width of his back and the vibrations of the engine, you can't help but get an erection -- you also can't "help" but press it into the back of his ass. He responds by pressing his ass back into your cock, seductively rubbing it even while riding -- (he must be a fantastic fuck, you think. He seems MADE for it.) With his left hand, he grabs your right wrist and pushes it down, until you take his leather-covered cock in your hand. As you gently squeeze it, it grows, already as thick as your wrist. As you travel out of the forest, descending down into a valley, you notice that the fog has been lifting, becoming merely overcast -- the view is not what you're used to seeing in Central Virginia. Wherever you are, you begin to seriously suspect that you're far, far from home. Far, far from home on the back of some superstud's motorcycle with the biggest cock you've ever had in your hand. Could be worse. Approaching the Service Station, you begin to wonder if you've stepped back in TIME, as well. You're reminded of rural back-woods country -- a farm house that's been converted with a false store front and two fuel tanks in the matted dirt of the front yard. The fading, hand-painted sign reads, "TOM'S -- Fuel and Motorcycle Repair." There is a small repair shop -- about the size of a three-car garage -- around back. Kake parks his bike at the door, but not before revving the loud, growling motor once as he cuts it off. Stepping out of the garage comes another man, another man built -- and clearly hung -- as well as Kake. This guy is a redhead with a flat-top so perfect you could land a plane on it. But for that, he has the same rugged good looks as Kake -- the two could be brothers. He's dressed in an dangerously small pair of greasy coveralls, open to his auburn pubes to expose his sweaty, dirty musculature, but barely containing a package that rivals Kake in size and girth -- also, you can't help but notice that he wears motorcycle boots, too. His name is spelled in cursive writing within an oval on his coveralls -- "Vicky," it reads, which makes you snort. The noise gets his attention, and he sizes you up quickly. And as he is about to speak, a truck pulls into the station, distracting us all. "A customer," Kake says. The blonde -- Vicky -- speaks, his voice deep and sexy. "I know that one -- he is only interested in my ass," he says. "Not in buying Petrol." Kake laughs. "You ass is better than the Petrol. Go take care of him -- we only want happy customers, yes? I must take my friend upstairs and give him something." Vicky looks at you and rolls his eyes. "You have a fondness for the little ones," he says to Kake, chuckling. "I think my small finger is bigger than his cock!" You almost speak up this time -- you're just about sick of these guys making fun of your dick. Eight inches is nothing to sneeze at! You want to say, Sure, you two are monsters, but where I come from, being eight inches is something most guys lie about! Instead, you watch Vicky's incredible ass as he sashays over to the truck and sticks his head in the driver's window. Within seconds, he's leaning in up to his waist, tip-toeing on the metal step -- the "customer's" big hand is holding his ass and pressing up the crack in the coveralls. "Come," Kake says to you. "He will not bother us for a while." The house is smaller than it looks on the outside, very old-fashioned with little in the way of furnishings. Kake takes you up the back staircase to his room, which is as simple as he rest of the country house -- just a big bed and a small dresser. Not even as many mirrors as you would expect. "It is simple but good for fucking," he says cheerfully. "The bed makes all kinds of good noise." You sit on it, unsure of what to do, and the bed groans a metallic sigh. "I cannot believe I did not figure this out sooner," he continues, stripping off his leather jacket and hooking it on the back of the door, revealing his incredible upper body once again, the tight little sleeveless tee reading "Fucker." "If it was a snake, it would have bitten me -- is that how you say it? I think, yes." He opens his closet door and a waft of leather-scent fills the room. "I have them in here somewhere. It has been a long, long time -- but I kept them faithfully!" "I wish I knew what you were talking about," you say, unable to help but stare at the globes of his ass. Indeed, he's made for fucking. "You do not remember," he says, "but you will. HERE they are!" He pulls out a pair of dusty motorcycle boots, almost exactly like his but they have a buckle and strap across the bridges. "What are they?" you ask. He smiles broadly. "They are your boots!" he declares, holding them out to you -- you resist taking them. "I do not joke. Look at them -- look at the inside seam." So you take them from him, these heavy, clunky things and you look inside. There, scratched in the leather -- with a nail or the tip of a knife, perhaps -- is one word, the same in each: PEKKA. "At the very least," Kake says, smiling again, "it explains why you wear those ridiculous things on your feet." "How is this possible?" you ask, examining the boots, hoping for any sign of familiarity. Your mind is racing. You think, maybe "Pekka" is a common name around here -- around here! And just where are you, exactly, that makes you think there's an "around here?" "As I say," Kake says, leaning against the wall, sexy even when he wasn't trying, "it makes complete sense, given the parts I know. My friend Pekka loved the lumberjacks, the mountain men -- he loved the brutal and clumsy way they fucked, their big cocks. And one morning, one morning like today, thick with fog, my horny friend Pekka disappeared during his hike to their camp. Days later I found his boots deep in the woods -- I have held them ever since. That was long ago, though time is difficult to feel here. But now you reappear, looking weaker for sure, like you've lost your manhood, without boots -- well, it all makes sense. You are back! My Pekka has returned to me!" "But... how...?" He waves you off. "'How' does not matter," he says, gently touching the side of your head. "'Why' does not matter. All that matters is you are back -- you are finally back. Now, put on the boots and be whole again." Okay, so you're sure you're the victim of mistaken identity -- however incredible it would be to actually BE this Pekka of whom he speaks -- but you're not against putting on a costume and doing a little role-play, either. If the most incredible man you've ever seen in your life wants you to put on some boots before you fuck, you put on the boots, right? There's humor in the way he holds your hiking boots, like they were some dead animal carcass or the laces were snakes or something, after you've untied them and stripped them off. He tosses them deep into his closet, as if even looking at them will ruin the illusion. Whatever -- you still wear your thick cotton hiking socks, the most comfortable in the world. The boots are dusty, which to you is no big deal, and incredibly well-worn, like this "Pekka" never took them off. Kake apologizes for it. "At least I kept them," he says, rubbing the leather that covers his cock. "Perhaps we will stumble across someone who wishes to shine them, perhaps even lick them, yes?" This thought gives his dick a jolt, pushing it that much further down his thigh. "Perhaps that someone will even be me..." You chuckle, saying, "Tease," while sliding on the right boot. And the coincidences continue to pile up -- the boot fits like it was made for you. You're... shocked at how comfortable it is, how beautifully it supports your arch, pads your heel -- the leather is supportive, yet yielding. You've never felt anything like it. Suddenly, this scene has become less about acting -- no need to pretend fucking in boots is hot if fucking in boots IS hot... "It fits!" you exclaim. Kake is unsurprised. "Of COURSE it fits," he says. "They are your boots." So you put the left boot on and you're jubilant when it fits the same way -- no, more. More than ecstatic. You're... You're hot. You're turned on by them -- by you in them. You stand, and even your stance is more confident, more manly. More sexual. You start to get a hard-on, your dick coming to sudden life beneath your cargo shorts. No, more than a hard-on -- it's almost like your dick is thickening, but not getting harder -- like it's growing. It makes you feel confident and masculine, feelings you do your best to encourage, rather than frighten away. Because fear is one of the first things to disappear, followed quickly by shame and guilt. You love how it feels to be a man, to get hard and be comfortable with your body -- with your beautiful, masculine phallus. Wearing these boots reminds you what it's like. What it used to be like. And your clothes are getting tighter in the ass and thigh, but looser in the waist, and nearly painful in the crotch. Your whole body's getting an erection, swelling and growing more muscular. The bigger you get, the more confident you become, the more erect you become and the more turned on you become, which causes you to get bigger, continuing the cycle. You don't know what's happening -- you don't CARE what's happening -- just that wearing these boots is helping you remember what it is to be a man. No... what it is to be a gay man -- the ultimate gay man. You are Pekka. You realize it with a clarity and a simpleness that makes it impossible to deny, even if you'd want to deny it. You remember everything as if your brain suddenly found all the forgotten neural pathways. You remember your homeland, your backstory, your hunger for woodsmen and sailors -- visiting a logging camp staffed by three horny brothers in a water-colored haze -- your nearly insatiable need for cock -- in your mouth, down your throat, up your ass, all at once. You are the ultimate expression of gay male sexuality and pride. Your cock is huge again -- you are restored. Pekka is once more. Your upper body ripples with muscle. Your pecs are nearly out-of-proportion with the rest of your body -- your nipples are larger than a 10-markkaa piece, full and inviting. Your skin is so smooth, it shines like a delicate pencil-on-paper drawing. Your chest and your ass are your best bodyparts, as they've always been. Your big, bulbous buttocks can take a battering from the biggest men and bounce back for more. It's hungry for a fuck right now -- it's been so damn long... Fortunately, Kake is there -- and few men have bigger cocks than Kake. You grab it through the leather even as you pull him in for a kiss. He immediately begins massaging your ass as his tongue slips deep into your mouth. He spins you around, so you're gripping the metal bedframe, and he presses his bulging package into the crack of your ass, reaching around your torso and roughly pinching your gigantic, tender nipples. "Do you remember now, Pekka?" he whispers gruffly. "Do you remember how much you love my cock up inside you?" "Fuck me, my brother," you answer, your voice back to its sexy, gravelly timbre. "Fuck me the way you used to -- the way you did before I got lost. Fuck me until those memories of that other place fade away to nothing. Fuck me back to Pekka." He chuckles slyly and drops to his knees, slipping his fingers into the hem of your cargo shorts and yanking them down your muscular legs, burying his face into your deep crack and attacking your hole with his tongue. You moan -- it's so good, so familiar -- and you pinch your own nipples, your cock springing up and slapping your upper abs. He's so aggressive, spitting and licking, lubing you up for that gigantic cock of his -- it's been so long, you're liable to be ridiculously tight. What a great fuck this will be. What a way to come back. (Hopefully, you've returned before the fleet rolls into Helsinki.) And just as he pulls out that magnificent cock and touches it to the bud of your hole, there is a commotion just outside the window, down in the lot. You both see two pick-up trucks pull into the station and several huge, gruff men step out. "Those damn lumberjacks," Kake says, his huge erection hanging out of his leather pants. "Looks like they found us after all." You smile. "That's okay. I think I'm more than able to handle them now." Looking up, they see you both in the window and -- monstrous dicks swelling -- yell for you to come down. "Where will we fuck down there?" you call. "On the gravel? Come up here and use the bed like civilized men! Fucking lumberjacks!" As they lumber up the stairs, you help Kake strip off his leather pants, easily taking the head of his cock in your mouth -- Pekka will show these lumberjacks a thing or two, you think, as the mist finally burns away to reveal your new world, and a hunger that you'd nearly forgotten completely takes you over. You are Pekka. And you and Kake are together again -- and you will fuck the world. END [AUTHOR'S AFTERWORD: I know it's unusual for the author to address the audience AFTER the work, but I figured if I got all intellectual in a foreword, some might not read the story, figuring it to be too cerebral, so I'm commenting here. Hopefully, you've taken the time to clean up first (hopefully, there's a need for you to clean up!). As a young gay man in the 1980's, Tom of Finland had a major impact on me, how I saw myself, and how I saw the gay community. He showed me that gays could be strong, masculine men to whom sex was a pleasure, not a punishable offense. In his images were the men I wanted to be and, in a funny way, idolized. I've had a "man wakes up in Tom of Finland World" story floating around in my head for a number of years, but it wasn't until I recently read a new, complete collection of Kake cartoons that the penny -- or in this case, the markkaa -- dropped and I was able to craft the story. Clever readers may recognize some of the images that pack this text. Most of the settings are based on specific ToF drawings, although I've taken some liberties with the physical look of Pekka. (Pekka appeared in a water-color series that Tom did in the 70's -- although Pekka's appearance is much more "classic 70's" -- sandy blonde requite with cheesy mustache -- I've given him the standard 1980's ToF body, MUCH more muscular and thick.) Of course, my hope is that readers unfamiliar with Tom of Finland can enjoy this story, but those who are fans can find some of my little in-jokes and nods to the Master. Please let me know one way or another if I've succeeded. I have strong feelings about this piece and want to know what you all think. Thank you for your indulgence. Please -- if you haven't already -- search out Tom of Finland's work. His drawing will speak to you and you may just like what you hear. Absman420 or... Tom of Maryland Oct09]
  12. pentazel

    If You Give An Elf A Cookie

    This one is pretty rough and I didn't clean it up much. Its also one of my shorter ones I felt more fitting for the site. Please let me know what you think and if you want more like it. I have a few more on the way, but most of those are longer and will need to be split into chapters. Enjoy your fappy time reading. If You Give An Elf A Cookie Nothing was more exciting than an adventure in the city. At least, that’s how Metka felt. Sabbaticals here had become increasingly rare as the years passed. The lucrative aspect of farm life had waned further and further; tightening the belt of what little could be squired away. Only through fragile dedication had this vacation become ‘affordable’. Meager meals, helpful family, restrained urges, and the abandonment of most other indulgences; all were needed to come back. Even with the miserly guarding of his wallet, it had been four years. In that same spirit of humble enjoyment, no souvenirs or other needless spending was planned. Metka wanted to return home with all the funds he could manage, hoping to return sooner than next time. Despite a normally strict adherence, the elf was guiltily nibbling at his lone transgression. He’d been irresistibly drawn to it at first scent. Though bothered by a lingering self-directed spite for the treat, each morsel was savored to the fullest extent. In one hand Metka held the aforementioned and mostly eaten cookie. The other secured a shoulder-mounted satchel. The ambling tourist’s walk used was slow and distracted He kept finding new diversions in the spectacles along his path. Skyscrapers, public sculptures, and ornate shop displays were all enthralling. The elf’s goal was the same this year as all the ones before. He wanted to see what was new at the museum of art. Many precious sights and amazing masterpieces graced its walls. The curators had always managed to keep several exchange programs running throughout the year, bringing new displays with every visit. Even with the array of beautiful sights from shops; somehow surpassed by the draw of that nearing collection, Metka’s mind kept wondering back to that bakery. Possibly it was from guilt. It might have been caused by the vibrant taste from each small minuet; but the tourist thought it more likely just the experience. The key motivation for feeling that way was how uneasy the shopkeeper had made him. The confectionery salesman showed an uncharacteristic display of glib guile. The man’s encouragement to try the goods rang like silver bells, with a tincture of mended cracks. The elf had tried to listen closely for the sake of instinctual suspicion. That effort failed due to the unquestioning cry of his stomach and an olfactory variation on the siren’s call. Little of the baker’s actual words still lingered in memory, only adding to the eeriness of the event. Popping the last minuscule bite into his mouth, Metka forced himself to relent. No matter how strange or out of place the man had been, he sure as hell knew how to bake. Even after just finishing a sizable snack, the elf already yearned for another. Having walked several blocks away and still trying to balance his budget, seeking more would only be foolhardy. The vacationing tourist tried to distract himself from the remainder of taste by thinking about the museum. He’d been sure to check on the recently acquired displays before starting the trip. That led to much anticipation for most of them. An ancient sword collection and sets of tribal pottery were top on his list, though several other sections also held allure. Metka even began to ignore his surroundings, well trying to visualize a few of the photos he’d seen. The elf was awakened from his fugue state of recall by several gasps around him. Eyes rose from the ground they’d been ignoring; only to meet those of several dismayed stares. All were locked on him and the reason why dawned slowly. His first clue was the realization of how tightly confining his clothes felt; but that was instantly chalked up to the awkwardness of a social spotlight. His second hint was the angle of upraised heads. Full understanding came only as Metka faced his reflection; undeniable in the adjacent black glass wall of a building. The elf had managed to double in height. His shirt now looked meant for a toddler. Formerly roomy pants appeared to be outgrown shants. Even the strap holding his satchel snugly encircled his shoulder. His feet appeared bare, but only because toe-strap sandals were now completely concealed beneath them. The tourist wanted to think that was someone else’s reflection. He wanted to deny the evidence, yet only managed to gape in surprise like everyone else. Most of the on looking crowd started to back away. No one knew what to make of such an event, let alone the man it was happening to. The movement of time returned to Metka with the flash of a camera. He spun in an effort to look everywhere at once, trying to regain coherence to thought. All it accomplished was an equally hurried retreat of the crowed. Most merely took a few steps back, but several ran. The elf opened his mouth to try and explain. A jutting jaw only hung there for a couple seconds, as he realized the lack of any way to do so. Eventually a pitiable excuse was offered instead. “I didn’t…uh…excuse me!” With that, Metka began pacing briskly down the sidewalk again. A path hurriedly cleared for him. A few people went so far as to shove others out of the way, to avoid being caught in it. The only response given by anyone was another electric flash. Soon several people were doing likewise; though most had waited tell he couldn’t identify who. The irregularly strobing light began to fray the straitjacket binding a looming panic. Only upon seeing the mouth of a thin ally, was the tourist able regain some direction and intent. Spotting the escape route more clearly with each elongated step, a primitive plan began forming. Turning into the ally opening with as little warning as possible, Metka quickly grabbed each side of a wheeled dumpster along the far wall. Two minutes ago he wouldn’t have been able to touch both sides at once, but now that didn’t even require stretching. Likewise; the heave used to spin it in front of the ally, was nearly powerful enough to lose control of it all together. The followers that had amassed during his hasty stroll; fell over each other in a forced halt. Noticing a second dumpster on the previous hidden wall, the elf decided to attempt reinforcing the barricade. Raised arms tried to capture more pictures well the tourist tried lifting the other trash bin. Though difficult, he managed to lumber it over on top of the other. That succeeded in cutting off most of the stuttering lights, prompting a sigh of relief from the empowered visitor. Well taking a moment to enjoy the minor success, he turned to inspect the far end of his makeshift haven. Even before finishing the rotation, the felt an awkward and unwarranted sensation. It welled welling up inside like an over-boiling pot. He felt...aroused? The momentum of untimely and out of place feeling, built more with each passing moment. Breath caught in his throat as a ripping sound filled his thoughts. The tightness of over-strained clothing vanished with the diminishing sound effect, but Metka barely noticed. Muscles quickly toned in definition as the transformation progressed. Formally vague abdominals gained clear hills and valleys. Arms formerly layered with thin padding, began to show strained bulges. Caves and thighs swelled with slopping arcs of strength. With every twitch of the throbbing cock between his legs, the appendage gained proportionate length and girth. During it all, his entire body grew with sporadic surges in height. The event didn’t last very long, even if it felt so to the elf. Air had filled his lings with the vacuum of expanding size; but the supernatural breath rushed out upon the culmination of sensation. He’d braced his hands on either wall of the ally as legs grew week, barely noticing them burst through the brick and mortar. A great stream of cum spewed from the engorged penis, followed by two more. Each splattered along the ally’s length; with the thick slap of a full bucket, overturned from an ample height. Likewise, the creamy fluid peppered the area in slow runnels. It oozed down the bricks and street curves like elongating exclamation points. Metka returned to awareness with the first frightened shrieks from his left. He looked over to see one arm half buried in the building there, understanding smacking him like a wet fish. The towering elf wrenched it free. Shock and surprise offered him little grace, resulting in further ruination of the building. One could now see inside and what appeared to be an office of cubicles. Herds of white-shirted workers were already piled up at the far end’s exit. They filtered out an opening fall too small for their enthusiasm. The tourist still panted from his unexpected exertion, well trying to find some bearings. Not daring to look, he withdrew the other arm from its neighboring hole; having to turn sideways in order to do so. The ally was barely big enough to hold him now. The elf had grown to a height of nearly three stories. He turned his head to look back towards the dumpsters; now able to see over them, and spotted the remained of a crowed scatter at his gaze. Well moving to look in the other direction, the ominous warning of distant sirens began. Too big to simply walk out of the ally, Metka had to sidle towards the other end. It was disturbing him to have that lingering arousal encouraged by his penis trailing along the wall in front. Bare feet kicked and crushed the periodic trash can or discarded crate as he moved. It seemed odd that nothing punctured their soles in the process, but that was quickly assumed to be a result of skin’s thickening. The cement beneath him let out an occasional crack under the weight. It reminded him of ponds with thin ice and foolish children. He only hoped there was nothing for him to falling into, should the artificial rock give way. Metka heard another barrage of screams upon exiting the confining ally. He could see the crowded streets clear around him in a widening ripple. Cars screeched to a half and were abandoned, as more people joined the throng of feeling civilians. He hoped that such obstructions would impede the nearing source of those sirens, but doubted it would help that much. Getting out of the city now seemed to be the only option left to him. He didn’t want to hurt anyone and had no clue if another burst of growth was due. Regardless of if it did or not, the authorities were sure to react violently upon spotting him. The elf began to move quickly down the road, still unsure of his direction along the vaguely known streets. He just focused on distancing himself from the direction of the approaching militants. The tourist did his best to avoid stepping on cars and kiosks well advancing, but couldn’t always find an opening. Metal, wood, and plastic, splintered and bent under his substantial mass. Concrete cracked and fissured with the added force of movement. The protest of each rang clearly at each stride’s landing. His sizable erection; which had lost only its demanding throb, bobbed and weaved before him. As Metka reached the next intersection, he began to pivot on one heel. The goal was to turn and see if the city’s edge might be in sight, but the roadway could not support that centered and driving force. It gave way; dropping the foot into the subway beneath, well pitching its owner forward in a fall. The elf was far too distracted to be prepared for the incident. He tumbled forward without a chance to brace for impact or roll to one side. The resulting conclusion was the ample cock’s driving impact with the ground. The tourist had clenched his teeth when the fall began. As his penis bent under the rest of his weight, air hissed inward between them. The street could support its pistoning force no more than the heel’s. Pavement shattered in wake of the driving shaft, well Metka felt the onrush of that implacable feeling once again. A cock with veins the size of fire hoses plunged into the empty canal of the subway. It bulged against the tunnel’s sides like the cork of a wine bottle. An irresistible euphoria overcame the elf as his member fully entered the passage. His body acted in sexual instinct. Hands crashed down on the surface’s neighboring sidewalks. Arms straitened and sent their owner’s back into an arch. Hips thrust forward with destructive vehemence. The swollen phallus erupted in triplicate, as it had before. Bouts of growth fell in time with the ejaculation. The thrust’s bracing hands enlarged in three successive spurts, palms now equaling the size of large tanks. His back arched more with the increase; the proportionate distance between pelvis and arms shortening severely. Colossal toes burrowed into the street and tilled as legs extended. Powerful gusts of breath escaped the giant between each increase in size. The enlarged penis decimated the road above it, as the confines of its housing became too small for the girth. As the storm of libido faded, Metka slumped forward. Forearms trenched the area beneath them, as they slid into a lax posture. The slightly relaxed cock withdrew from its ruined confines, allowing the owner to kneel. Only after a few labored breaths did the elf return his mind to escape. He rose into a sitting kneel and took stock of his new height. Even without standing, the man could see over the tops of some buildings. He took sudden notice of several things in quick succession. The building to either side of him had been gouged by his shoulders as he’d risen, the street below him was utterly destroyed, and helicopters were approaching on the horizon in front. The tourist quickly scrambled to his feet. He was so tall, that the city’s sounds felt faded by the distance. One leg extended the full length of a block in an effort to find an open gap; well a hand used the top of a building for support. The foot found purchase, but he grimaced as the building’s upper half gave way half way though his rise. The maddening cock clipped another building and removed its corner as he turned tried to regain balance. There was no time to muse over the implications or the phenomenon of growth. He just hoped for enough time to escape. Metka turned again and stepped over a ‘short’ apartment complex to one side. The streets themselves were now too narrow for easy travel, but the newfound height allowed him to see the closest edge of the city. Each rushed step took him closer, like a fire-walker seeking the relief of cool ground. Before making it more than half way, the elf heard a concerning and loudening whine from behind. Taking a quick glance back in that direction, he saw the unmistakable smoke trails of nearing missiles. He managed to intercept their path with a sizable skyscraper, but only succeeded in dampening their effect. Several hit in a rapid barrage. The resulting explosions demolished the building and knocked the tourist off his feet. He was sent sprawling over several more structures; that stood no chance against such a gargantuan impact. Metka disappeared beneath a cloud of billowing dust as the world collapsed on every side. When this whole crazy adventure had started, the elf worked word to avoid casualties. After all that had happened and the extent things reached, he’d come to think only of survival. That mentality took a firm root as a world of pulverized brick, cement, and everything else swirled around him. The infinitesimal populous he once belonged to were bound to seek his death from this point out, leaving him with few to no options. Apathy replaced concern in the time it took him to find the ground. Though the impact had done little more than knock the wind from Metka, he managed to hit the ground face first. The second thing to land was his cock, resulting in a sensation that was beginning to feel familiar. Sexual excitement bloomed as the blimp-sized appendage plowed into through a series of buildings. It carved a deep furrow through whole blocks, before the member came to rest against the elf’s stomach and chest. The tidal flow of semen spewed forth without restraint, the tourist starting to embrace his arousal openly. Sticky goo splattered against pectorals and chin, before seeping out over the rubble and adjacent streets. Surges of growth fallowed much as they had the last time. Each gush of cum came with a doubling in size that widened his creator of destruction. Metka returned to himself without daring to open his eyes at first. Only the annoyance of more or larger attacks managed to make him. He beheld little more than the cloud of dust his meteor-like impact had generated. Trying not to breathe it in, despite his racing heart’s demand for it; the elf rose to his feet again. The few buildings still remaining appeared to be no bigger than candy boxes. The majority of what had existed, was now the crushed outlines of his fall and expansion. The tourist looked around in search of the helicopters that had attacked him. He spotted the insect sized specs on the retreat. That allowed him a sigh of relief between panting breaths. The only thing wanted was to get away before another strategy was managed, but the elf had to figure out a place to go. He moved to massage his injured face and found it slick with spent seed. Looking over his cum-covered front, Metka decided that the ocean would be as good a place as any. He was too exhausted mentally and physically to ponder the issue further. As a titanic foot passed overhead, a lone figure slithered out the front of his disheveled bakery. A wide smile sporting two protruding fangs looked up in approval. After all; successful experiments were always so satisfying.
  13. Greatsword812

    Unexpected Package (Updated: July 5th 2018)

    Hey all. Obligatory disclaimer, long time luker, first time poster. This prompt came from a write thread on /y/ and is as follows: "Requesting a story about a young man receiving his own GroBot in the mail, and continuing to have fetishy sex with it after activating it. The GroBot should have total sentience, but be submissive to his owner. The owner should just be happy to get his dick wet with his growing android hunk. The only requirement is that theirs lots of growth and sex." Constructive criticism is appreciated. I normally don't write smut (or write at all, tbh) so please let me know if you like it. According to the anon on /y/ the prompt was inspired by rippedsaurian's character. ****************************************** “I didn't fucking order this.” The Amazon guy just stared at me. He clicked his pen again and repeated, “Ya gonna sign or what?” I huffed and scribbled my signature and he bolted out the door leaving me with a gigantic six-foot package sitting in my empty living room. Again, I scratched my head. There was no way I drunk ordered anything THIS big, even drunk me would have balked at the price. I cut down the sides of the package and revealed the inner box that just reeked of expensive production value. Light gray with gold-yellow trim and a shiny matte finish overlay the word GRO-BOT plastered on the side in large sleek lettering. Still puzzled I discarded the front of the fancy box and let out a small gasp of amazement. Before me stood a lean and average sized human looking robot. Much like the color of the box the GROBOT was colored dark gray around the torso and thighs and a dark yellow-gold in the shoulders, upper back, calves, crotch posers and head. The robot had no visible face but did have a V shaped colorless slit on the face that simulated eyes. The bot was also very clearly defined, each muscle group separated and distinct with no body fat to be seen at all, much like an anatomy mannequin. My eyes trailed lower to a small plastic sign affixed to the crotch that said “Please BOOP eyes to initiate start-up.” Following instructions, I pressed my finger to the plastic V shape and the eyes lit up with a cool white light. A small chime signaling start up rang and I watched as the operating system stimulated the GROBOT's muscles in a visible shock wave that ran the length of the body. A few moments later the head turned and fixated on my face. “Initiating Operator Mode. Please specified desired vocal auditory output. Press left pectoral for lower vocal pitch and right pectoral for higher vocal pitch.” The robot cooed. I stared a moment before complying and placing my hand on the left pec. The robot repeated the same phrase in a slightly lower and sexier voice. I immediately repeated and pressed the left pec again several times resulting in a smooth and rumbling base and pressed the eyes to continue. “Growth-based Regenerative Organic-synth Battle-bot for Offensive Training or GRO-BOT.” The bot did a small bow with his hands behind his back before continuing. “Thank you for your purchase, Master.” I stared at the robot, dumbfounded. Taking a few steps back I slouched in my favorite armchair and placed my head in my hands, letting out a great big sigh. The bot had tracked my movements with its (his?) head and said nothing. I saw another bolt of stimulation travel down the bot from head to toe as it stepped out of the box and followed me to the chair, planting its feet exactly a foot from me. “My sensors have detected that your blood-pressure, pulse and respirations are elevated. It appears you are in acute distress. How might I be of assistance, Master?” “Why do you keep saying Master?” I groaned back to the bot. The eyes flashed twice, apparently processing my query. “I am your product. You are my Master.” That did not exactly clarify the situation. “Who bought you?” I inquired, “I do NOT remember ordering something as expensive as you probably are.” More flashing eyes before the bot replied, “My subscription information lists you as the sole and primary subscriber. I am your product. Payment information is restricted.” I stood up and poked the bot hard in the cleft of the pecs with my finger. The bot registered the abuse with a few flashes of its V shaped eyes and fixated its face on mine. Each word was punctuated with another jab to the pecs as I demanded to know, “What. Do. You. Do?” “My original function was to serve as an opponent to humans training to engage in hand to hand physical combat. My architects have determined that I can provide other, more sensitive, uses to non-combat civilian personnel.” The bot replied, coolly. “In summary: I am a sex bot. Do you wish to initiate customization?” That immediately changed my tune. “YES!” GRO-BOT hummed a moment before replying. “Please specific desired height.” “Six feet and four inches.” GRO-BOT began to hiss slightly, like the sound of hydraulics expanding, and his body began to stretch upward slowly. The increased height did not pad itself out however and once completed growing the bot looked too lanky to be attractive, so I decided to up the specificity of my requests. “More weight. Wait! More muscle.” GRO-BOT flashed a moment before requesting, “Please specify body type. Average. Athletic. Olympian. Fitness Model. Body Builder.” “Fitness model!” Cables of new muscle stretched and snapped into existence across the robot's entire body. The sounds of stretching nano-flesh filled the room and GROBOT began to fill out in all the right places. His already defined torso swelled into two slabs of define pectorals complete with an eight-pack of washboard abs and shredded lats. The shoulders were next and each one ballooned out into round powerful bowling balls. Lastly, the arms writhed with new power as the biceps swelled from skinny bumps to powerful tennis ball sized orbs within a few flexes. I moaned out loud at this hot growth and placed my arms on both pectorals, squeezing their newfound hardness between my digits. With a surge of power GROBOT flexed both his pecs as hard as he could, and I felt the warm hard mounds turn to stone beneath my fingertips. My fingers traveled down the bot's torso and down to the fantastic abs on display. The brick like muscles were perfectly symmetrical with a clean divide down the middle that accentuated their power. GRO-BOT raised his arms over his head and crunched his stomach so hard one of my fingers was pinched between two of its shredded abdominal. I was really feeling horny now. My hard cock was staining my pants with pre and I had to let it lose. I frantically dropped the trousers and stood a full attention in front of my new personal sex slave. I leaned back in my comfy chair and slowly began to stroke my length while raking my eyes over the contours of the bot's body. I needed more. “Raise an arm and flex.” GRO-BOT blinked and complied, raising its right arm and bringing it to a firm flex. At his current size the bicep was about a s big as a tennis ball with small veins running beneath the small muscle and up the length of the forearm. I stroked myself faster. “Increase the bicep size by twenty percent.” The veins in the arm pulsed slowly as they supplied the arm with more liquid fuel and after a moment GRO-BOT relaxed his arm and re-flexed. The new bicep was noticeably bigger than it had been before but not quite where I had wanted it to be just yet. Before I could issue a new command, the veins pulsed again and GRO-BOT relaxed and flexed again. And again. And again. With each new flex the arm was even bigger and more defined than before A large vein appeared at the head of the bicep and pulsed with each new flex as the now soft-ball sized bicep grew even further. I was moaning at this inhuman display of power and beat my dick harder and harder until the growth stopped. I immediately let go of my dick to stop myself cumming to soon. I was not going to finish before I had my way with this new robot. “Take out your dick.” GRO-BOT obeyed. The gold fabric posers suddenly vanished and revealed a four-inch soft dick with a grey shaft and gold head. It looked pitiful against the rest of the bot's rock-hard body, so I decided to give my new bot a makeover any man would dream of. “Grow your other arm and jack off while doing it.” The overgrown sex toy blinked once as it processed the request and lowered his new huge right arm to his soft dick while raising the left arm and beginning to flex. The robot slowly began to stroke its own manhood (robot-hood?) in time with the flexing of his arms. The growth started again, first with the pulsing veins. With each flex of the inflating arm GRO-BOT also stroked its own dick to a hard six inches. I was going wild now. I was jacking off furiously and spewing precum everywhere like a leaky faucet. GRO-BOT had completed his growth cycle and relaxed both arms to his sides while his dick, still hard, began to leak its own fluid. My hands flew off my dick and I gasped for a few breaths, fighting the urge to cum early. My mind raced with ideas. How much control did this robot have over itself? How specific could I get? “Increase penis length by two inches.” The bot bleeped again but nothing happened at first. GROBOT's cock continued to leak and then suddenly throbbed back and forth like it was being flexed. Veins spread across the long fuck pole and supplied it with ample fuel while throbbing increased in intensity. The large grey-gold penis stood fully erect and shot a large wad of cum straight into the air. The bot's dick slowly stretched upward toward the sky and fired another round into the air. GRO-BOT reached down, grasping the shaft, and vigorously ran its thumb over the head while the organ finished its growth spurt. The last volley of cum exploded out of the tip like a covered garden hose and the throbbing subsided as it reached eight inches. GRO-BOT blipped again before he spoke, “My sensors detect a rapid pulse and increased perspiration, both indicative of arousal.” GRO-BOT reached out and placed his hands on the armrests of my chair and leaned over me so that I could focus only on his incredible bulk. Veins pulsed on his chest as the bot again flexed his upper body only inches from my face. GRO-BOT thrust his hips and his robot dick made contact with my own weeping manhood. “Do I please you, master?” I did not reply. I had to focus on not cumming too soon or this fantastic experience would be over before it really began. Idea after idea swam through my head of all the new possibilities I had in store with GRO-BOT at my disposal. It appeared he was fully customization and ready and willing to perform whatever I wanted. Do whatever I wanted. Be whoever I needed. “Change your body type to body-builder.” GRO-BOT straightened up and very quickly began to initiate the changes, this time growing outward instead of upward. The growth started at his thighs and began to spread downward. Each pillar of flesh bulged and stretched with new cables of nano-muscle and swelled even bigger around than they had been previously. Each pulse was accentuated by the huge pulsing veins that began to crawl down each length. The growth spurt had then reached his calves which exploded with a small bang into fist sized calf muscles. I let out a moan and quickly sat up in my chair, reaching behind GRO-BOT and grabbing onto his already bulbous glutes. GRO-BOT's behind inflated slowly but surely while I squeezed and manipulated the globes of flesh. It felt like I was holding two halves of a watermelon that kept getting bigger and bigger. Each slab felt tighter and tighter until I felt like they would burst at any moment. Suddenly GRO-BOT clenched his cheeks and thrust forward, slamming his eight inches down my throat. I groaned and gurgled and did my best to suck off this freakishly muscular bot while he continued to face fuck me with long and slow motions. Each thrust slapped his bulbous balls on my chin and after a few moments I grabbed and squeezed them tight. GRO-BOT shuddered and bucked wildly, I could feel his dick throbbing in my mouth as he shot his load again. His orgasm completed, GRO-BOT withdrew from my mouth and stood at the ready, his dick still rock solid. “I-I need you.” I stammered, trying to delay my own orgasm. “I need you inside me, now. PLEASE!” GRO-BOT's eyes blinked. In one swift motion he bent over and hoisted me up into the air by the hips. My hands clambered up his body and I wrapped my arms around his thick bull neck. GRO-BOT was supporting me like I weighed nothing to him! I let out a moan and my legs gripped the washboard abs of his midriff. GRO-BOT shifted me in his grasp and I felt a thick digit probing at my hole. GRO-BOT pressed and prodded at my delicate ass, feeling his way around my taint. The finger retreated and then returned with fresh lube from the prodigious amount of pre spilling from the robot's own cock. I felt him puncture my hole with this slick finger and slowly begin to finger fuck me open. I clamped down on the invading digit and gripped GRO-BOT's neck harder. He was not deterred and continued to slowly finger my hole lose. A moment later the invader was removed, and I heard the robot speak, “You are so very tight master. I will need to insert more than one finger to properly prepare you.” I yipped when I felt two fingers enter me with even more ease than before. GRO-BOT stretched my hole even wider and continued his finger fucking. After a moment I felt him hit my prostate and I let out a long and slutty moan. GRO-BOT continued his prodding once he knew he had struck gold, he sped up and jabbed at me harder. I could feel the hot pressure building inside me and spread from the inside out until I was putty in his hands. GRO-BOT removed his fingers then and grabbed me by the ass with both hands. “It is time.” I felt the head of his cock press against my lose hole and I tried not to tense. GRO-BOT slowly lowered me onto his enormous cock, pressing his head against my hole several times before thrusting through my defenses and sinking me on his thick pole. I gasped and screamed out as he quickly filled me with his entire eight inches. The pain was sharp at first but after a few moments I felt the pain ebb away and was replaced with an intense feeling of fullness. I raised myself up an inch or two and slammed down again, relishing in the pure pleasure of this robo-cock inside of me. “P-Please. Fuck me. Fuck me HARD!” I gasped. GRO-BOT wasted no time and gripped me tightly with both hands before sliding out of my well lubed ass and slamming back in. I could not stop myself from wailing as the musclebound bot begin to fuck me ferociously while supporting my body with this powerful form. I cried and screamed, feeling my tight hole loosen under the intense onslaught of this fucking machine. GRO-BOT did not tire, nor did he slow down. He kept his eyes fixated on me and plowed me deep like the muscle whore I am. I clamped my ass around his cock and was met with an extra hard thrust that dazed me for a moment. His body undulated underneath me, and his rippling abs massaged my own hard dick, I met his thrusts with my own and began to fuck the hard creases of his bulging abdominal muscles while GRO-BOT continued his own onslaught on my abused ass. I was turned on to the max at this point, but the deviant part of my brain knew that I could have even more. “More! More! P-Please I need you bigger! PLEASE! GROW BIGGER AND FUCK ME HARDER!” GRO-BOT's eyes flashed in compliance and I yelped as a sudden pain spread through my ass. It happened again as the huge robo cock grazed my prostate and I felt my hole stretch even wider. He withdrew from my insides until the tip of his gargantuan cock was at the edge of my sphincter. “Yes, master. I exist for your pleasure.” I heard it before I truly felt it. A slow but steady stretching sound beneath me. The next thing I knew the burning at my hole was even stronger and I clamped down again out of reflex. This did not stop the hot pleasure at my entrance as GRO-BOT's fuck pole grew inside me. He invaded me slowly this time and I felt this now gargantuan robotic cock fill me as no one had ever before. I felt him throb with each gush of pre-cum he squired inside of me until he finally hilted inside me. “Are you enjoying this, master?” GRO-BOT queried. I could not answer. Slowly, achingly slowly, he removed his extracted himself fully from my hole and leaned me back, placing me delicately on the furnished chair. I drank in the sight of GRO-BOT's completed transformation and glorious musculature, salivating over his colossal vein ridden arms and titanic pecs that looked too big to be true. My eyes lowered to his now mammoth sized cock. It was by far the most powerful looking dick I had ever seen, easily a foot in length and as thick around as the bottom of a wine bottle. He was continuously leaking precum that slid down his length and dripped onto the floor below. “Master, I must inform you of something.” GRO-BOT leaned down and raised my leg slowly back over my head with one of his pumped arms. My heart raced, and my dick hardened knowing what this hunk was preparing me for. I tried to contain my lust and stall my impending orgasm for as long as I could, but I was close to my breaking point. I needed this fuck so badly it was killing me! Delicately, he raised my other leg until I was spread-eagled, ass to the world, and primed for fucking. “You exist for my pleasure too.” The thrust pierced me with such force that I almost fainted from the sheer overflow of pleasure. GRO-BOT continued his bombardment of my ass with fast, deep, foot long thrusts with the full power of his entire body weight behind them. I was incapacitated from the overdose of endorphins my battered prostate was driving to my brain as this perfect machine plowed me more completely than any human had before. I was delirious with pleasure, numb with pain, and harder than I had ever been in my life. “Your pleasure gives me pleasure, master. I live to serve. I exist to please. The more your desires change me, improve me, the more pleasure I can give. The more leisure you feel, the more pleasure I feel.” As if to make his point he slowed his fucking motion and positioned himself exactly where he knew my joy button was. The monstrous android thrust rapidly back and forth, battering my prostate into submission. I screamed in pleasure and begged him to never stop fucking me. To never cease the endless ecstasy I was experiencing. The droid focused his blank face upon me and blinked in comprehension, his assault on my ass never wavered or even gave the slightest hint of slowing down. I reached out and grabbed onto the massive biceps planted next to my head and GRO-BOT responded by increasing the blood-flow to his already massive arms. I watched the veins bulge and swell as new fuel was pumped into the muscles of his arms, my digits stretched apart as the massive muscle was pumped ever harder under my fingertips. “You are mine now, just as I am yours. No human will ever be able to fuck you as well and as deep as I can.” GRO-BOT's dick swelled again inside me, mid thrust, the spike in pleasure making me see stars. I let out a howl of lust and started beating my dick harder than ever before. He knew I was close, very close. He lowered his body closer to mine, almost smothering me with his muscular bulk. I leaned in and dragged my tongue between his brawny cleavage and tasted real sweat. I latched onto one of his huge perky nipples and bit down hard. I was rewarded with more growth of his lower body which lead to even more explosively hard thrusts. His cum was gushing out of my abused ass with each commanding thrust. I could feel his thick hips slap against my cheeks each time he conquered my hole. And make no mistake, that's what it was. He was sexually conquering me, fucking me as no human ever had or ever could. I could never go back after this. I needed this to be over, for him to finally own me sexually. I needed to cum. “Oh god. Oh please. Oh, oh, here it comes. I”M CUMMING!” I screamed. My balls contracted, and my hips bucked wildly as I came harder than ever before in my life. Stream after stream of my seed splattered all over GRO-BOT's chest as he continued his predatory ass fucking. My vice like grip on his robotic cock only egged him on and he continued to literally fuck the cum out of me, timing his thrusts against my prostate with each volley I shot. I was still shooting when I felt him lean away from me. I watched as the android twisted his nipples and flexed his chest, showcasing his veined pectorals to me in a display of dominance. He held himself upright in obvious orgasmic bliss, straining with all his might as he continued to plow into me and fill me to the brim with this seed. I heard it burst out of my hole and drench the floor below the armchair. I felt my hole stretch each time a volley entered passed my sphincter. I welcomed the heat that grew within me as GRO-BOT unrelenting orgasm raged for a full minute. “S-stop...” I heard myself breath. I was so thoroughly exhausted I almost couldn't muster the energy to speak. GRO-BOT listened and obeyed. He removed his now 14-inch manhood from my gaping hole and hoisted me into his arms. Everything was dim and fuzzy, but I could feel him carry me into the other room and gently, almost lovingly, lay me down on my bed. The last thing I remember was the flash of his eyes before I sank into the mattress and drifted off to sleep.
  14. Hello everyone! Thanks for your patience. My hectic semester is officially over, and I am hoping to get this story done before we get too far into the summer. Thank you very much for everyone who has provided support, comments and feedback. You really helped motivate me to work on this. Here is a link to chapters 1-7: http://muscle-growth...e-symbiote-war/ Here is a link to chapter 8: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/4428-the-symbiote-war-chapter-8/ I have finally managed to finish chapters 9 and 10. Just for the record, I will post all of the remaining chapters in this thread. Chapter 9: Unexpected: A friend and a monster. “Hey… Hey! Hellloooo? Are you there? Everything ok?” My eyes come back into focus, and I find that I’m staring at a very cute face that is surprisingly close to my own. The last couple of days have gone by in a blur – I’m feeling depressed, isolated, and confused. I guess I had sort of zoned out while studying in the library – and someone noticed. Not just anyone, but the adorably cute boy that seems to spend as much time here as I do. I’ve caught him checking me out – almost as often as he’s caught me checking him out. “Welcome back to planet earth.” He says with a shy grin. I’m still staring into his blue eyes. Although we’ve spent a fair bit of time in the library together, we haven’t met, and we haven’t been this close. “Sorry. Must have drifted off.” “Is everything ok? You’re far too cute to be so glum.” I suppose that’s his way of coming out to me – but it was unnecessary, as we’ve already caught each other sneaking glances. Although he isn’t my usual “type” (I don’t know if I have a “type” anymore), he is adorably cute. He’s got this ridiculous mess of light brown hair, cool-blue eyes, and a smile that warms the room. He’s about my height, lean, and with a really cute little butt. “Mark.” He introduces himself to bridge the silence. “Corrigan.” “Cool name! Care to grab a cup of coffee and tell me how your parents came up with that one?” And that’s how I met Mark. It was unexpected. Our coffee date lasted all afternoon. He’s a good talker, and he’s fascinating. He’s doing his doctorate in Social Policy. He’s a smarty-pants, but doesn’t show it – he’s easy to talk to. He’s energetic and passionate about a number of topics, and he’s downright adorable when he’s really excited about a topic. He’s also a good listener, and it really didn’t take long for him to sift through my vague replies to figure out that something is going on with my roommate, or specifically, between my roommate and me. “Come on Corr! Spill the beans! Is he a psycho? Does he steal your stuff?” I just didn’t know how to broach the topic. Nothing that’s been happening makes any sense, and I didn’t want Mark to think I was nuts. Mark could tell that I was uncomfortable and fumbling. “Ok. You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready. But just tell me that you will talk to me, or to somebody, if you’re ever in need of help.” I could agree to that. Our wonderful afternoon eventually came to an end. Mark had to get to class. “Ok – my interplanetary traveller. I want to see you later. How about Friday for supper?” There’s no way I could refuse him. We made plans. We hugged – he smelled great – one of those warm, close hugs – and just as we were disengaging, he gave my ass a squeeze. I was in a great mood. I decided to head to the gym to work out some of my energy. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the gym was fairly deserted. These were always my favourite times to work out – mindlessly enjoying my tunes and not having to wait for any of the machines to come available. I was having a pretty good day at the gym; the buzz of my positive mood from my date with Mark was translating into a great pump from my workout. I was really enjoying how solid my body was getting from a semester of working hard to keep ahead of Shawn. However, as I thought that, I mentally noted that the purpose of my workouts now was to try and keep up with Shawn. I finished my gruelling shoulders and arms session, capped off with some abs at the end, and headed to the locker room for a shower. I stripped off my sweaty clothes, wrapped a towel around my waist, and headed for the showers. Because there was no one else in the locker room, I stopped in front of the mirrors to admire my great pump. Shawn might have surpassed me, but my gains were without any “assistance” and my body was looking great. I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it, but I was turning myself on and starting to pitch a tent in my towel. And that’s when Greg walked in. You may remember Greg as the “victim” of my experiment. He was now easily a 6’1 muscle-bound stud. He was wearing his workout gear, a muscle shirt and a pair of workout shorts. His handsome face was now three inches closer to the ceiling than it was before our last meeting. The growth from my cum had turned him into an Adonis with a cock that any porn star would envy. And since our last meeting, he had clearly been hitting the weights with force. His broad shoulders were rounded globes that stretched the skin tight over the striations in the muscles. His arms hung wide to accommodate the bulging muscles of his V-tapered back. A powerful vein snaked down each bicep; serving as a roadmap to highlight the incredible size of his arms. Greg’s powerful legs, flexing with each step, filled up the legs of his workout shorts. However, it was tough to notice because my attention was drawn to the obscene bulge made by his enormous cock and balls. I was instantly awestruck by the presence of this stud, and my rapidly growing erection almost made me drop my towel. Greg immediately recognized me and I could see by the look on his face that he had been looking for me. A few quick strides of his powerful legs and he had me pinned against the wall. “Tell me what you know.” “Uhhh….”. His strong hands were firmly gripping my shoulders, pinning me against the wall. I wasn’t able to form words. “You did this to me! Tell me how!” His chest was right in front of my eyes, and I could count the striations in his meaty pecs. One… Two… Three… Four… I was fully erect. “I want more. Tell me how you did it.” I could feel his warm breath. His hands tightened on my shoulders. My balls churned. If he kept this up, he was going to get his answer without me saying anything. “It’s…it’s a curse.” I finally managed to stammer. I’m usually an excellent talker. But apparently that’s conditional… “This isn’t a curse! This is awesome. Tell me how it works.” And apparently I’m terrible under pressure – because before my brain knew what I was doing, I found myself saying… “It’s my cum. It makes people grow.” Oh shit! What have I done? That’s all he needed. He ripped the towel from my body and knelt down. He had one hand centered on my chest, pinning me firmly to the wall, and his other hand wrapped around my balls and the base of my erection. He popped the head of my cock in his mouth and started sucking as if his life depended on it. I mean seriously, I thought he might suck it right off my body. It was both painful and insanely pleasurable. Any attempt I made at trying to struggle was met with a firm thrust against the wall. Greg was quite adept at working my balls and shaft with his one hand; he was gently kneading my balls while also squeezing and tugging on the base of my boner. His tongue was eagerly exploring and teasing my cockhead, all while maintaining a powerful vacuum. I was so turned on by him, this muscle beast servicing my cock. I felt the moment when I gave over to the idea of making him grow even more – turning him into a massive muscle monster. I grabbed his head with both hand and started fucking his face. “Take it and grow!” I growled. Greg could tell I was on the edge, my balls started to tighten up. He let go of my shaft, released my chest, and grabbed my ass with both hands. He rammed my entire cock in his mouth – and I could feel the muscles in his throat milking the head. It was glorious. I let out a feral growl as my load spewed forth. I could feel his throat twitching as he sucked out every last drop. The growth was already starting as he pulled my cock out of his mouth and stood up. He already towered over me, but he was gaining more height, pushing closer to the ceiling. Greg quickly stripped out of everything. The first thing I noticed, because they were right in front of my eyes were his pecs, the muscles were undulating as each striation fought for space under the stretched skin. His abdominals clenched and expanded with each breath, but each time they did they expanded a bit larger – the bricks pushing a bit farther out. Greg raised his arms into a double bi pose, and as my gaze was drawn up, I noticed the massive V of his back, capped by a pair of rock hard, mountainous shoulders. Greg’s arms were massive, but as he brought his biceps into full flex, they exploded out into a pair of truly impressive peaks. “Of fuck yeah!” He growled. “Awesome.” I was star struck. Our attention was drawn down to Greg’s boner. It was easily twelve inches, and sticking straight out from his body; looking as if he was ready to spear me through the chest. Hard, massive, wrapped in veins, and leaking pre-cum. I leaned forward and gave the head a lick; savouring the pre-cum from this stud that I had created. Greg’s massive balls clenched up tight and he was immediately spewing forth a geyser of cum; it was everywhere, but mostly all over me. “Time to test out this new body. I have a feeling my workout’s going to be amazing.” He struggled to get his clothes back on. His muscle shirt clearly no longer fit his new size, it was stretched to breaking across his wide frame, and this pulled it up to expose his waist. His workout shorts were completely inadequate, they were straining at the seams, and the tightness only accentuated Greg’s massive chubby running down his right thigh. He clearly needed new clothes but who was going to criticize this massive muscle stud? I am feeling both physically and emotionally drained. This was something right out of my fantasies, but it is also a scary situation – a second person now knows what I can do. Are my worst fears coming true? Or my deepest fantasies? Chapter 10: Schoolboy Pin. I can’t believe what they did to me today. I knew Shawn was fooling around with one of his wrestling buddies. Travis used to be in Shawn’s weight category, but whereas Shawn had grown into a new weight category, Travis had hit a plateau. I’ve seen them hanging around outside of wrestling practice, and I’ve seen Travis leaving our room – only to walk into a dorm room filled with a pungent post-sex mix of sweat and cum. Apparently, Travis had hounded him about his growth and Shawn had let slip the secret. Travis was a lean and well-muscled wrestler, his light brown hair, hazel eyes and cut jaw line making him immediately attractive. He only stood at about 5’6, but his lean musculature made him look impressive. I guess that wasn’t enough, and his hunger for more brought him, and Shawn, to me. It started innocently enough. I was studying in the room when they entered. We chatted it up a bit. Then without warning, they flipped my chair over backwards and had me pinned on the floor. I struggled, but with no luck. Shawn had me in a schoolboy pin. He was sitting on my chest, his legs pinning my arms against the floor. And with his hands clamped on my forearms, I was essentially immobilized. This left Travis to take what he wanted. He was sitting on my legs, his hands kneading my growing bulge. He unzipped my jeans and worked them down to my ankles, and then hiked my briefs under my balls. My growing erection was starting to stand on end. Shawn shifted his weight, bringing his own swelling bulge closer to my face. Travis worked my balls and my shaft, slowly bringing me to full hardness. I feel embarrassed to admit that this was incredibly hot. But the idea of creating yet another muscle monster prevented me from really enjoying the experience. Travis knew what he wanted, and he sucked on my balls and licked my shaft, sending me into toe-curling bliss. He worked my hard cock slowly – sucking the head, deep throating the shaft, sticking his tongue in my piss slit – bringing me close to orgasm on a couple of occasions – but backing off in order to prolong the experience and maximize my eventual orgasm. Shawn wasn’t one to let my humiliation go to waste. “You know you’re enjoying this.” He said. “You’re going to make Travis into a wrestling machine.” He shifted his crotch closer to my face. His erection was plainly visible through his sweats, and a visible stain was forming. He saw me checking him out and shifted his weight so that he could free his hard member from its confines. From this angle, it looked ridiculously large. The purple head was engorged and glistening with pre-cum. The thick shaft was wrapped in veins – and at this proximity, I swear I could see his heart beating. Shawn leaned forward so that his hot cock brushed my lips. Fuck. My balls churned. And before I knew it, my cock was thrumming with my orgasm. Spurt after spurt. And Travis was there for the ride. His mouth was a vacuum on my rock hard cock, and he was kneading my balls for every last drop. He drank it all – the seed of his growth. How many times did I cum? Enough to move him up one weight category? Or two? Shawn was loving it – “Fuck yeah!” After what felt like an eternity, I stopped cumming. Travis took one last long suck on my still hard cock, and then stood up. His shirt was off and his pants were down around his ankles. His muscles glistened with sweat in the afternoon sun streaming through the window. I could see the growth catalyst working its way through his already lean muscled body. Was he standing taller? No. He was growing – he had to be at least 5’8 now. His already taught abdominals and serratus muscles appeared to be flexing, but without returning to their pre-flexed state. His striated pecs rippled as they added on a new layer of muscle. His rounded delts widened, adding to his already impressive V-shaped body. His biceps swelled, each one pushing out from the arm and forcing a vein to snake along the length like a drop of water cascading down his arm. The muscles in his legs rippled as they expanded with lean muscle. But I was particularly drawn to his beautiful cock and balls. His balls were tight and looked swollen with cum, easily the size of a pair of plums. His cock stood straight out from his body, the head was throbbing as if he were dry cumming, but each flex added new length and girth. It looked as if the veins were being pushed out from the inside. Apparently Shawn also found this irresistible. He stood up off of me, knelt in front of Travis and gulped down his cock. It looked as if he was struggling with Travis’s growing tool. However, they must have both found this to be too arousing, and after only a few moments, they were both cumming. Travis let out an animalistic roar, grabbed Shawn’s head, and rammed his spurting cock down Shawn’s throat. At the same time, Shawn’s own impressive member blew several huge shots all over Travis’s legs and the floor. After the orgasm subsided, Travis let go of Shawn’s head. Shawn slowly backed off his cock – the thick shaft emerging from his mouth, inch after inch after inch. Damn, it was obviously bigger – it had to be at least nine full inches, and as big around as my wrist. There would be no hiding that impressive bulge in his wrestler’s singlet. Staring directly into Travis’s still tumescent member, Shawn must have felt that Travis’s growth was impinging on his territory, because he quickly twisted around and lunged onto my still hard member – taking the entire shaft in one gulp. The surprise, combined with my arousal at watching Travis’s growth, caused me to immediately orgasm, and I shot one huge volley down Shawn’s throat. After a good hard suck, Shawn came up smiling, and I could see his traps expanding a bit more at the neck of his shirt while his delts widened ever so slightly. “Fucking awesome.” Clearly Travis was impressed with his new muscles. He kept running his hands over his body, flexing every muscle, and grabbing his swollen cock and balls. “Let’s hit the gym and see what these things can do.” Looking over at me with an evil and mischievous grin, Shawn agreed. They dressed and headed out. Feeling defeated. I got up from the floor and headed down the hall to the bathroom. This is starting to get out of hand; three people now know my secret. At the very least, I’d never be left alone. At worst, I could be kidnapped, locked up, and milked for the remainder of my sad existence. So why does all of this turn me on?
  15. GreenSleeves

    Freak Find at the Flea Market

    Before we begin, I have a couple notes: First, this story was inspired by this post from SuperWaffle over on tumblr. Second, I wrote this over on my blogger, and in transferring it here some of the formatting and whatnot was lost. For a slightly prettier looking version of this story, read it here. With that out of the way, read on and enjoy! Freak Find at the Flea Market Jonathan Riley wandered the narrow pathways between booths and tables, not really looking at the goods that were on display. The gymnasium of the local community centre was currently home to a flea market, and Jon had been planning to meet up with some friends there for a low-key way to pass some time on a boring summer weekend, but at the very last minute they all had to pull out. Jon had already been almost there when he got the texts so he figured he may as well poke around a bit on his own, but it just wasn't fun without his friends there to goof off with. On the verge of calling it quits, Jon looked up from his aimless wandering to find he'd walked into someone's "shop". It was just a couple tables of knick-knacks and a clothing rack, placed together under a collapsible canopy. The owner didn't seem to be present. Jon turned to leave, but his eyes fell on a shirt hanging on the rack and he froze. Slowly he reached out and removed the hanger from the rack. The shirt was a white muscle tee, the kind that had a neckline like an ordinary tee shirt, but no sleeves, and armholes that dipped down low to reveal the wearer's entire side. Written in an arc across the chest in bold block letters, like those found on the backs of varsity jackets, was the word FREAK. Beneath that, in the same font but large enough to take up the rest of the front, was the number 8. "Find what you're looking for?" Jon almost jumped straight through the canopy. He turned to see the man who must be the stall's owner. How had he not noticed him return? "Um, y-yeah," stammered Jon. "I mean, I think so? I don't really know..." The man looked at the tank in Jon's hands and smiled. "Oh yes, I think those are exactly what you want, young man." "Those?" Jon was confused. He just had the one item. Still smiling, the man simply reached in through the tee's armhole and fished something out. Hanging by its waistband, but hidden inside the shirt, was a plain white jockstrap. Well, maybe not "plain". Jon suddenly felt himself blushing. The pouch on the thing was huge! He didn't know why, but he wanted these clothes desperately. Needed them. He turned them over and over in his hands. "Um, there's no price on them," Jon said. If anything, the man smiled wider than ever. "Tell ya what. Nobody else has so much as looked at those things," he said. "There's no way I'll be able to sell 'em. Why don't you just go ahead and take 'em." Jon excitedly agreed, then quickly made his way to the exit. He desperately wanted to try the clothes on. As he neared the gymnasium doors, he realized that he should have at least thanked the man for the gift and turned back. He could see the man's stall from where he was, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen. Well, he couldn't have gone far. Shouldn't be too hard to find him again. Except... Jon frowned. For some reason, he couldn't remember what the man looked like. At all. That was weird. But then, Jon had been very focused on the tank and jock while talking to the man. That's right, the tank and jock... He should hurry home to try them on... ***** Standing in his room, stripped to his undies in front of his full-length mirror, Jonathan stared at his body and suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. Weighing a mere 150 pounds while standing at 6'5", he was a very skinny guy, no two ways about it. He was normally okay with that, but for some reason he now felt... inadequate. Despite his skinniness, Jon was not unattractive. His skin was smooth and clear, he had a strong jaw and high cheekbones. His eyes were piercing blue and his hair was full and thick. And yet... Jon took a deep breath and could see every one of his ribs. The bones at his elbows, shoulders, and knees were easily made out beneath his skin. His boxer-briefs should have clung to his thighs but were almost loose enough to just be boxers. His manhood was fairly average he knew but without the bulk of thighs to push it forward the front pouch of his boxer-briefs seemed almost empty. It wasn't like he'd never tried to bulk up. He'd gone to a gym for a while, but it hadn't seemed to help at all, and he'd been self-conscious the entire time. But he'd played basketball all through junior high and high school. His height had made him a shoe-in. Of course, that height also accentuated his slimness. Jon glanced over his shoulder at the muscle tee and jockstrap that were laid out on his bed. Why had he wanted them so badly? They didn't suit him at all. This day has been so weird. He sighed, picked up the tee, and went back to his mirror. May as well just try it on... In spite of his misgivings, the tee didn't actually look that ridiculous on him. Oh, he'd never wear it out and about, but it would be fine for just laying around the house, playing video games... Jon smiled. He hadn't gotten in his head like that for a long time, but he was through it now. As if to fully banish the negative thoughts, Jon struck up an ironic double biceps pose and winked at his reflection. He chuckled to himself and began to turn away, but stopped and looked back at the mirror. Slowly he brought his right arm back up and flexed again. There was some clear definition there, a nice little bump of a bicep. Some weird trick of the light even made it seem like Jon's arm was growing right in front of his eyes. Jon brought his other hand up to feel, and was shocked to find his arm was definitely thicker! Where he could normally almost close his hand around his upper arm, there was now more than an inch between his fingers and thumb. And the gap was widening! He stepped closer to the mirror and struck up another double biceps pose, watched for a moment as his arms thickened slowly but steadily. Not just his biceps, either, his forearms seemed to be inflating too! Jon dropped the pose to look down at the rest of his body, which had been keeping pace while he was enraptured with his arms. His knobbly knees had once been the widest parts of his legs, but now his calves made them look narrow, and this thighs absolutely dwarfed them! The once-loose legs of his boxer-briefs were now tight and pushed up by his growing quads, which were showing deeper and deeper definition between the individual muscles. The muscle tee was becoming tight now, and Jon looked back at his reflection to get the full view. Wait, was the mirror shorter than before, or... No way. Jon was growing taller, too! This had to be some kind of dream, right? When he got back from the flea market he'd probably laid down on his bed and dozed off. That had to be it. But, as long as he was dreaming, he might as well enjoy it, right? Over top of the tee, Jon ran his hands across his abs, feeling the rippling sheets of muscle. It felt like running his hands over corrugated steel. His hands rose higher to cup the heavy weight of his new, swollen pecs. Jon desperately wanted to see his muscles unobscured by the shirt, but he didn't dare remove it. This miraculous growth must have been caused by the shirt somehow. What if taking it off stopped the growth? As he marvelled at his ever expanding form, Jon realized he wasn't just packing on muscle. His skeleton had to be changing too. There was the obvious case of his greater height—he seemed to have settled at about seven feet tall!—but his hands and feet seem to have increased as well, proportionally with his height. Distinctly out of proportion, though, were his shoulders. While originally they'd been only slightly wider than his waist, they were now on their way to being twice as wide! His new bulging delts couldn't account for that width on their own. The muscle tee, once baggy, was now straining across Jon's massive, heaving chest, and was approaching skin-tight on his growing, but still relatively narrower, trunk. The deep armholes reached Jon's waist, and he gaped at the fact that his lats almost filled them top-to-bottom. Giving his lats a flex made him look like he'd sprouted wings! The tightness of the tee was now becoming uncomfortable. Maybe this was big enough. Jon reached for the bottom of the shirt, but he couldn't find it. His fingers slid down over fabric that morphed seamlessly into the deep-v of his new Adonis belt. Jon started to panic. He had to get the shirt off! It was so tight now that he couldn't take a full breath! His fingers felt all around his hips, his shoulders, his neck, searching for the hem of the shirt but it just wasn't there. Jon gave up the search and stared at his still-swelling physique in the mirror with horror that still bordered on awe. Then the shirt itself began to change. A dark line formed down the centre of the numeral eight on his abdomen. Then two more lines, one across the upper circle and one across the lower. The muscle tee began to sink into the crevices between Jon's muscles, as though he were being vacuum sealed. The now eight sections of the number shifted slightly to take on the shape and position of the eight ripped abs beneath them. A deep cleft appeared between his massive pectorals. Even the smaller waves of his obliques and serratus muscles were filled in. When the shirt was literally skin-tight, a new change began. Starting at the bottom, the white material began to disappear, or maybe merge into the skin beneath. Either way, it was vanishing. The black remains of the numeral eight faded too, replaced by the deep gutters between Jon's abs. His nipples poked through like pencil-erasers. The fabric of the shirt receded up and up until the last of it vanished from the peaks of his traps. The transformation was over, but one thing was left behind. Across Jon's powerful chest was the word FREAK in bold black letters. Wonderingly, Jon brought his hand up to feel the letters. They felt just like his skin. He'd been tattooed. But as his hand ran over his mighty pecs, Jon couldn't help but admit that it was accurate. He was a freak now. He threw a crab pose, and the letter E was almost completely swallowed in the cleft of his chest. Jon was a glorious muscle freak. He turned around and looked over his shoulder to see his broad back in the mirror. It was every bit as impressive as the rest of him was now. There were only a few things that seemed to be missing... Facing the mirror again, Jon looked at the pouch of his underwear. It was much better filled out now that his tree trunk-like legs pushed all of his goods forward, but it was clear that whatever magic had given him his new body hadn't affected his junk at all. He stripped off his boxer-briefs and stood completely bare. His cock and balls had been decidedly average before, but that meant they'd seemed relatively large compared to his narrow frame. Now that he was built like a god, his dick seemed downright puny. And when he turned to check out his ass, it was clear that it had toned up considerably and grown a little, but it still seemed out of proportion with the rest of him. Why would the shirt ignore these two parts of him? A glimpse of white on his bed behind him caught his eye in the mirror. Of course! The jockstrap! Jon quickly grabbed it and returned to the mirror to don it. The straps stretched considerably going over his thick thighs, but the pouch was still fairly loose. Jon hoped that was about to change. Nothing seemed to be happening. Jon turned slightly to view his package from the side. Still no change. Maybe the jockstrap is just a jockstrap. A shame if true, but if nothing else the straps accentuated his ass, making it seem not quite so small, relative to the rest of him. Hold on... His ass actually was bigger. And still growing. The jockstrap worked just like the tee! Jon turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder. He reached both of his hands down and gripped one growing cheek in each, giving them a squeeze. His powerful fingers sank into the soft flesh, until he flexed his glutes and the hardening muscles forced the digits back out. Jon squeezed and flexed a few more times. Each time his fingers sank in with more difficulty, and were more easily pushed back out by his inflating ass cheeks. He would have continued, but his attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. While Jon had been focused on his expanding ass, the jock pouch had been getting more and more crowded. Jon turned once more to face the mirror to get a full frontal on this new development. His manhood was now making three distinct bulges in the fabric, two egg-shaped lumps beneath a lengthening sausage. He watched, slack-jawed, and the bulges grew and grew, but a problem was becoming apparent. Just as the muscle tee had begun to compress his lungs when his upper body filled it completely, the jock pouch was beginning to compress Jon's growing goodies. The pressure on his cock and balls was merely uncomfortable for now, but if his plumbing continued to inflate it would soon become rather painful. Luckily, the pouch had reached its capacity and the next stage began. Just as the shirt had sunken into every nook and cranny of Jon's upper body, so too did the jockstrap begin to form around his dick and ballsack. The sight of his junk perfectly encompassed in the white fabric was surprisingly lewd. And it made the increased size of it very obvious. Though his softball sized nuts were held tight to his body by the clinging material, Jon's new python hung almost halfway to his knees. But it didn't hang for long. In a slow, pulsing manner, Jon's massive member began to harden, climbing higher as every beat of his heart sent a throb through its new length. The fabric of the jockstrap strained against this different kind of growth. As his erection reached maximum hardness, almost brushing the underside of his mammoth pecs, Jon felt a rush of warmth fill him and knew he was on the brink of shooting. He hadn't even touched his cock! Waves of pleasure were rocking through him, but he wasn't cumming yet. He looked down, past his colossal manhood, and saw the leg straps beginning to vanish into his skin, just as the tee had done earlier. He turned to see the waist strap disappearing above his shelf-like bubble butt, before facing the mirror head on again. The fabric over his package had begun to recede as well, beginning with his constricted scrotum. As the white material vanished, his giant balls fell heavily to the bottom of his freed sack. The diminishing fabric then began travelling up his shaft. This seemed to push Jon's orgasm right to the brink. The powerful muscles around his manhood began to pulse and flex, making his nuts rise and fall and his cock sway back and forth. Jon's pleasure climbed along with the fabric, and the flexing of his groin muscles intensified. His balls were practically vibrating against his taint now, and his dick was rebounding off of his abs with meaty thuds. The material reached the flaring flange of his cockhead. Jon was almost out of his mind with ecstasy. Finally, the fabric reached the wide piss-slit of Jon's spasming phallus and vanished completely. Jon's orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. His entire muscular body locked up except when a new wave pulsed through him, making his hips buck like a bronco. His cannon-sized cock fired off volley after volley of thick, pearly cum with such force that it was able to splatter against the ceiling. But the bucking of his body and the twitching of his dick meant that the creamy salvos hit many more targets. Thick ropes of cum burst against Jon's face, his pecs, his abs, and all over the mirror in front of him. What seemed like and hour later, the last few shots of spunk arced out onto his bedroom floor. Jon's entire body was quaking. His arm moved heavily to smear his jizz off of the mirror so that he could look at himself. His upped body was caked in his manly batter. Spunk obscured his new chest tattoo and filled his cleavage. Strings of semen hung off his nipples, and ran down the gutters of his abs. Residual cum poured from his cockhole and trickled down his shaft to drip from his low hanging balls. Jon just stood there, panting, for a moment. He still wasn't sure whether this had all been a dream or not, but if it was, he was sure he'd wake to find it had been a wet one! He was shaken out of his reverie by the sound of his phone vibrating a few times on his dresser, signalling a series of texts. He left a trail of cum drips on his way to read it. It was from his buddy Cliff. hey, it said, sorry I bailed on the flea market thing was probably lame without me, I know 😛 parents were being weird, needed to talk anyway I'm free now so we can hang, almost at your place find anything cool at the market? Jon didn't know what to do. How was he going to explain what had happened to him? Did he have enough time to clean up his musky mess? What could he wear? None of his clothes would fit him now. How was Cliff going to react?
  16. pentazel

    Forged Anew

    Farniro pumped massive bellows. The chain belt powering them was exhaustively resilient. He had to hang on it, just to get things started. His fur glistened with sweat and soot. Gebis kept calling for more and more, every sentence another demand. The young feline never seemed to reach the expectation. Either that or it kept rising. The youthful warrior had come to this forge and its master, for the sake of Sanguis. His precious weapon had taken a mighty beating against that golem. He’d arrived with its blade chipped and pitted. The next swing might have snapped it in two. And as precious as Farniro’s tool was to him, it wasn’t something he could forge personally. Gebis was happy to help. The renowned artisan had supplied some of the land’s greatest swords, both magical and mundane. He’d admired Sanguis and gotten to work in short order. He’d delicately fashioned his wonders on the metal, avoiding the actual smelt of its blade. Edges were softened and brought back to shape. Enchanted oils infused the seams, making them vanish without the slightest trace. The smith returned to Farniro, sword gleaming in the sun. That’s when all the troubled started. “Amazing work, nya! It looks as good as new! How’d you do it?” “You should know better than to ask for such secrets, squirt.” Farniro laughed with awkward embarrassment and an emphatic nod. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got carried away with the sight of it. How much do I owe you?” “Five-hundred should do it.” “Wow! That’s really kind of you. I wasn’t expecting it to be so cheap.” “Most wouldn’t think so, but who am I to argue with such a deep purse.” The two shared a spell of laughter as the feline rummaged for coins. A bit it had to be the silver requested. The majority condensed with the last of his gold. He was sorry to see the last of that haul go, but it was worth it for Sanguis. When Farniro looked up to hand his pile over, he found a disgruntled mustache twitching in disapproval. A few blinks didn’t dispel an illusion, so the cat opened his mouth to ask what was up. Gebis didn’t wait for the question, asking a rhetorical one of his own instead. “Well aren’t you the hopeful little dreamer?” Farniro tried again, only to be cut off once more. “Five. Hundred. Gold. My work isn’t as cheap as you seem to think.” The feline’s mouth dropped as eyes bugged wide. You could buy out a village for that; feed an army for a month’s march. “Why didn’t you tell me it would be so much?!” “You never asked. I figured you just had deep pockets. Now I come to find out you’re a fool instead.” “But I can’t pay that! I’ve barely had that much to my name in my whole life. I mean, I guess I could focus on finding some hordes and taking some jobs to pay you over time,” Gebis interrupted with a mocking laugh. “I doubt you’ve got what it takes without a sword.” The blacksmith smiled at the swordsman’s sunken expression. Then he clarified, “I get paid or you don’t get it back. I don’t work for pittance.” Farniro clutched his ears and let out a long, “Nyaaaaaaaa!” of frustration. Gebis let the cat squirm, holding back his schadenfreuden chuckles. “Isn’t there something I can do for you to make good on this?” “Tell you what,” the blacksmith let hope build in the yellow eyes before finishing, “You work my bellows and play houseboy for a month, we’ll call it even.” Joyous hope erupted within Farniro and made ready to spew its exuberance in words. Once again, Gebis cut him off. This time it came with savage undertone. “Don’t go thinking you’re getting off light squirt. If you don’t last the month, then the sword is mine. No wining or asking for a second chance either.” The feline gulped in dreaded anticipation, having yet to see the workshop’s interior. Still; he couldn’t abandon the only chance given. “Okay then. It’s a deal.” Gebis’ hand thrust out like a glaive, making the cat jump back at first. Then the latter realized, it was meant for a binding shake. As one hand met the other, Farniro felt the grip and weight of a bad deal. The swordsman wasn’t wrong in his assumption. The room appeared more dungeon than smithery’s workshop. Hung blades reeked of savage intent. The anvil at center was huge and broad, easily mistakable for an altar. The massive furnace eclipsed one wall, chain pulleys edging like decretive columns. Gebis interrupted the awful exploration; with the explanation, “That forge is meant for a man on either side. I’ve been working its bellows by myself for years. So you shouldn’t have too much trouble keeping up.” Farniro looked back to see a swindling smile, frowning an acknowledgement of con.” “You giving up already? Feel free to walk out any time.” “I said I’d do it so I’ll do it. I’m getting Sanguis back.” “We’ll see. Far be it for me to frown at free labor.” Three weeks later, the cat’s ears drooped with exhaustion. On and on the smith bellowed for bellows. They’d only had two days of rest since starting, but even that wasn’t fully true for his laborer. Gebis filled the quiet days with chores, pushing his serf at every turn. That cruel smile became nearly omnipresent. The smith could see his victory in sight. Now Farniro felt the end nearing. He still had a week to go, but so long felt endlessly out of reach. Still he refused to give up. Nothing short of collapse would stop him. Gebis struck and tapped at a new commission. It was a mage blade that baked with red corona, even before putting it to flames. They, or rather Farniro; had needed to douse their coals in a syrupy red goo. His taskmaster had explained it as getting the fires hot enough. The feline had needed to stir both fuels together, straining his arms with weight and thickness. It wore him out before even starting on the chains, making the metal loops feel more like shackles. As the cat shoveled in the first load of drenched coals, he had to pry piles free. Thick tendrils of the goo, stretched in resistance. It layered the shovel and made it impossible to throw loads. Instead, the swordsman had to scrape it free on the open hatch. A hiss came from the wetted fire within a few loads. Wisps of crimson silk began to trail from the opening. It quickly thickened to a haze, which had the cat coughing inside a few minutes. “Work the bellows and clear that stuff out the chimney. I don’t want to start sucking it down. If you were a real man, you could do both at the same time.” Farniro grimaced and kept from showing his sneer. Another cough banished the worry, as he staggered over to the chains. Hands dragged him up the large links. They wanted to slip, but pride and need refused to let them. When chain loosened and the cat found his feet again, he couldn’t help but gasp with the strain. It rushed the cloud deep into lungs, starting him in a hectic fit of coughing. The feline scrabbled his way free of oily smoke, crawling along the floor on knees. Refuge hand him breathing deeply of the cleaner air. No sooner had the serf reached sanctuary, than bidden to return. “Back to it runt.” A scrap of cloth landed next to Farniro, drawing his eyes up to Gebis’. There he found the raised cheeks of a smile, hidden behind another tatter of cloth. The bastard had known and prepared himself already. “If you can’t manage, I’ll take this as a forfeit.” “Nya.” The swordsman uttered between stifled hitches. The cloth pressed loosely against his mouth. Air was still too precious for such restriction. It took about a minute, before he could fasten its ends in place. The feline found strength in anger, forcing a stand and tying the rag. Eyes squinted against the malicious smoke, as he hurried his way back to chains. He forced breath low and kept a steady pace. Another gasp or panting would start it all over. This was hardest in getting the bellows turning again, but that first loosening appeared to help. The cruel-hearted blacksmith was pounding away behind, sparks flying and at the cat. His back and hair were singed, from all the burring metal they’d already caught; meaning Farniro paid them little mind. Blackened holes peppered his sleeveless shirt. The world began to fade for the swordsman. It narrowed to task and strain. The sense of it dulled with every pull. His vision blurred. Time became abstract. Life emptied its meaning. The cat found distance relieving, letting him drift away from the effort. Even the chain's resistance felt lighter, far away in uninhabited lands. As time passed, relief turned to embrace; then to surreal optimism. At least this trial would build up his fortitude and resilience. The feline had faced hectic and strenuous training before, but nothing as taxing without the cuts and bruises to encourage. His only pain was the ache of callused fingers and palms. Even that was starting to fade. The outlook empowered him more than expected. Farniro could barely feel the effort he poured in. The bellows lightened with every tug. The weight of body vanished with his dawning paradigm. Advancing acceptance had more power than dreamed. A muffled voice began to encroach. The swordsman couldn't make it out at first, too lost in reflection for the external. His head shook and thoughts cleared a little, trying to pay attention to the tyrant. It took him far longer than expected, volume rising before he could clarify. "Hold, hold!" were the first clear words. Farniro ended the meditative cycle, turning to face the voice's source. He only made it half a step, before his balance ended precariously. The swordsman teetered and nearly fell over, grabbing the chain to regain equilibrium. The world returned in a rush of disorder, bringing with it a wealth of awareness. The first nuance to register was angle. The feline looked round and upward, finding nothing but roof. He heard Gebis shout from below and looked down in surprise. There the smith was, looking furious and finite. Farniro began to question his memory, remembering the artisan much taller. That left him scrambling for answers within, losing tack of the other's continued rants. Next a register of strain, tightness spread along chest and leggings. The swordsman looked down and answered sight with gasp. His shirt was tattered, ripped across his bulging chest. The crest of pectorals obscured his vision lower. Folded seems at shoulders had degraded to frayed bands. Threads and tatters of cloth, protruded outward like the spokes of a mangled bicycle. With attention rushing away from thought and back to body, elation stuck as a brick to head. Farniro hadn't dared to lean forward and inspect further yet, but he could feel the same decimated fabric below. Now it pressed tighter, centering efforts singularly. Arousal embraced him with all the furnace of homecoming. Cheeks heated beyond forge's power, sprouting from the rivaling sensation below. A region of cloth sundered entirely, freeing the urgency of a mammoth erection. The bulging shaft towered beyond recognition. Its twitching pulse screamed for attention. Farniro returned to ignoring the smith, as rippling arms reached for the prize. He pulled it close and moaned at the feel. Bending it against him brought waves of delight, the head nestling within solar plexus. Its tip graced along the underside of chest, summoning a growling shutter from its owner. Farniro began to stroke himself, unable to resist its call. The heated flesh throbbed in hand, eager to answer the call. Each palm moved slowly, finding their way along every lengthy surface. There was so much to explore. He couldn't fully encircle such manhood, even with both hands parallel; but damned if he wasn't going to try. Gebis looked on with fear and regret. He'd pushed things too far in a quest for victory. Caution took backseat to spite. Vicious provocations were no offset to risk. His cruel smile was gone. It was replaced by rage hiding dread. The enchanted oils had certainly worked their magic for the forge. They'd also pressed the cat to its limits. However, the artisan knew better than to write off this tragedy there. The world hadn't twisted from true, till he'd begun work on the blade. Sentient metal had howled in hand, yet the smith carried on. The resistance was normal enough. The tyrant equated it to shoeing a horse. Any weapon of such caliber, would try to kick and buck just the same. Gebis wore the protections needed, but had limited thought for fallout upon the serf. The ember blade was old and wise. It'd learned of people and their ways though various wielders. Knowing attack was meaningless against the smith, it sought refuge in the only answer left. The dynamic between both men was clear, a servant and master. So the sword had decided to tip those scales, in the most effective method it could. Seeds of enchantment had leapt with shed sparks. They'd worked their way in, layering with every blow. Nevertheless, such results were far beyond expectation. Gebis roared for the feline to halt. He ranted with insults and demands, trying to intimidate the mistake into submission. All of his wailing and wining fell on deaf ears. There was nothing he could do to stop this obscene act. Anger kept the smith from consideration of worse. The idea of reprisal stayed locked behind angst. Farniro cared nothing for murmurs barely registered. He was enthralled by the swelling enjoyment. The few remaining tatters of cloth; snapped and flew free in succession. The bulge in hands expanded ever larger. Every twitch and rush of blood pumped into the mammoth, widened and expanded beyond limit. The feline's head crested ceiling, forcing wood to creak and neck to bend. The newly formed Goliath attempted to sit. He could only spare one hand for the task. The other redoubled its effort toward front, unable to leave arousal unattended. The whole endeavor was lost from the start. Farniro couldn't maintain a balance of his new and ever-expanding form. Too much shifted and proportions went well past acclimation. The mere act of a crouch sent him rocking back. The bracing arm had no grasp of distance. Thus the cat landed with an earth-shaking thud, lanced several cracks along the stone flooring. That's when his tail graced upon the furnace and all hell broke loose. Farniro yowled as the appendage tried to broil. He shot his body upward and away, widening cracks with weight and force. He'd never wielded the power of such legs. Nor could he prepare for the might expelled. The massive cat shot up and through the roof, sundering wood with no more resistance than twigs. He was too focused on the sudden singe for realization, leaving the forge and workshop far behind. Understanding hit in unison with ground. Towering trees broke, flattened under muscular weight. The forest canopy dimpled as it made way for a behemoth. Farniro felt it no more than falling back. His attention and interest were still ruled by other sensations. He didn't spare time or thought over what happened, only returned hands where they were needed. Gebis looked up in marvel. His shop was in shambles. Forge and anvil kilted towards the creator left behind. He stood frozen and held by dismay. The swordsman moaned with impending release. His hands flew faster as excitement clamored. Birds and beasts all flew and ran clear. None dared encounter the monstrosity it hailed from. The feline roared as ecstasy culminated. The world went white, in far more than figurative. Farniro panted, exhausted by it all. He and the surrounding trees were coated, sticky with layers of thickly dripping seed. It took several minutes for the numbing of delight to fade. When it eventually did, a single thought chimed its attention. "I forgot Sanguis!"
  17. Part 1 Here's the first part of a story I quickly decided to whip up. It's mostly setup for later parts, but hopefully you'll enjoy it. As always, feedback is always appreciated. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Do you know how much it sucks losing your dream job? I poured my heart and soul into that company!" I say, words slurred by alcohol. My complaints are directed to the bartender behind the counter as I stare at my drink. "Hell, I moved to this city just for this job, I don't know anyone here." I look up at the bartender who is polishing a mug nonchalantly. His bearded face shows a hint of a smile as he raises a single eyebrow. I've been coming to this bar weekly since I moved here in the summer, but more recently I've been coming daily. I just barely notice as I slowly begin swaying from side to side in my chair. "Fine, I guess I know you now, but that's not the point! The point is that after just 3 months they tell me that they need to downsize AND I just so happen to be on the cut list! What am I going to do-" I'm cut off by the sensation of stomach acid coming up my throat. I cover my mouth with a hand and sit still waiting for the feeling to pass. Joe, the bartender, just laughs. "I think you've had too much to drink... again. You've been complaining about this for five days in a row now. As for what you're going to do now, that's simple. Get a new job. Luckily," Joe walks a few steps behind him to the bar wall and points to a Help Wanted sign on the wall, "we just so happen to be hiring." I begin shaking my head in protest, but quickly realize that sudden movements aren't doing me any favors. "I can't work in a bar, I'm a journalist! Besides the fact that I have no experience, it's not really my thing. I can't just-" I'm cut off once again by another wave of nausea. I let out a low groan. The room feels like it's spinning. "Alright, alright, get a move on to the restroom before you make a mess of my bar. And at least give the job some thought before you flat out deny it." Joe said with a frown. He then swipes my half empty cup and pours it out. I nod slightly and jog/trip my way to the restroom. The restroom is empty when I enter. I run over to a sink first to splash cold water on my face. I'd rather avoid vomiting all together if I can. The shock of the cold water grounds me somewhat. I stand with my hands gripping the sides of the sink for what seems like an hour, but is more likely a minute or two, until the restroom door opens. I check the sink mirror in front of me to see who just came in and my knees go weak. Walking behind me to the toilet stalls is one of the most muscular men I've ever seen. Truthfully I don't see many bodybuilder types around here, but this man was still above and beyond the norm. He was wearing a pair of jeans that barely seemed to contain his tree trunk legs, and a tailored white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone revealing his shelf-like pecs. I don't like to admit it but I get a bit grabby when I'm intoxicated, and the more I drink the more I want to grab, and tonight I've had a lot to drink. Once the man entered his stall, my drunk brain began scheming of any way to cop a feel of those massive muscles. I stood there staring at the stall from my vantage point at the sink mirror, and began waiting for my chance to act. As soon as I hear the creaking of the stall door opening, I turn around and wait for the mountain of a man to appear. Once he enters my sights I fake a fall towards his large body. My luck finally seems to be looking up as the man catches me in his arms. I take that moment to get a feel of any muscles I can reach, pretending to try and catch my balance. I get a hold of his back, traps, delts, biceps, and pecs before he finally pushes me off of him, his hands on my shoulders. "Woah, what the hell man, are you ok?" The bodybuilder says in a deep gravelly voice. I am in bliss right now. Not only did I just feel up this massive man, but now he's touching me too? Unfortunately, my happiness is short-lived as my nausea decides this is the perfect time to go into overdrive. I only managed a small, "Oh no," before spewing my dinner and copious amounts of booze onto the shirt of the man in front of me. The man yells a string of curse words as he tosses me to the side. I try to grab onto his hand before I fall to slow my descent, but he manages to slip his hand out of my grip. The sudden prat fall knocks the wind out of me and I am forced to put my head on the ground to catch my breath. I sit up slightly to see how the large man I just puked on was doing and almost gasped as I see that he has taken his shirt off to clean it in the sink. Watching his rippling back muscles move as he scrubs his shirt distracts me for a few moments until I notice a small weight in the hand I tried grabbing the man with. Looking down I see a leather bound journal and a black pencil in my hand. Where did this come from? The cover was blank besides a name, "Greg Carlson". I had no idea who that was, but was too drunk to think about it for too long. I flipped the journal open to random page near the middle and began reading it. "-graduated from Anderson County High School with a full-ride sports scholarship. Soon after entering University, became interested in bodybuilding and-" I looked up from the journal and towards the man standing a few feet away from me. Could this be his journal? I doubted that someone as masculine as him would be carrying around a journal of his life stories everywhere he went. Besides, the way it was written seemed more like a third-person view rather than a personal journal. I looked back at the journal and flipped to the first page. Instead of seeing more life events, I saw what seemed like in depth statistics of a person's body. The stats didn't stop with just weight and height however, they went super specific like individual finger lengths. Who keeps track of that? Another thing I noticed was a category for sexual orientation, which was filled in as straight. I barely had time to register my disappointment before I saw something far more interesting, a penis category. With a length of 4 inches and a girth of 3 inches, I felt kind of bad for the guy. If the muscle beast in front of me really was the owner of this journal and it was accurate, his dick, while not horribly small, would look ridiculously tiny in comparison to his massive body. Feeling naughty and a bit horny, I erased the numbers with the black pencil that I found with the journal and replaced them with 10 inches long and 8 inches in girth. Hopefully if he notices what I wrote he'll have a good laugh about it. I got up quickly and placed the journal and pencil down near the man while apologizing quietly. He glared at me as I rushed out of the restroom. Outside of the restroom, I let out a heavy sigh and walked back to the bar, head hung. "Have a bad time in there or something?" Joe asked, noticing my sullen return. "I... I may or may not have puked all over a dude in the restroom." I said, not making eye contact with Joe. Joe was silent for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. His laugh was infectious, and I couldn't help but join in. It was too ridiculous not too. "Shit, man, I'm not going to clean that up." Joe finally said after we stopped laughing. "Ha, luckily I think it pretty much all ended up on the guy and not the floor." I chuckled again before finally looking up at Joe with a grin. "Also, would this be a bad time to ask for that job?" "That was a quick change of heart, but I guess It's a good of a time as any. I can set you up a quick interview this week with the boss. Don't worry though, I'll be there too. You're basically guaranteed the job." As we continue discussing the job and the work it entailed, I notice the bathroom door opening and the man I had met in it exiting from within. He was wearing his shirt once again but now it was wet and basically see-through and his sculpted body was on display. At the very least there was no sign of the vomit I had covered him in. With a distressed look on his face the man kept adjusting his crotch. It was bulging a surprising amount for 4 inches, but I suppose it's all about how you display it. The man speed-walked his way past me without a second glance and left the bar. Joe didn't seem to notice as he continued his spiel on bartender etiquette. Unbeknownst to me, the journal I had found had completely disappeared without the man taking it. Things would soon start to get a bit hectic around here for me.
  18. quickquezzed

    grUV

    So, this is my very first story. Thought I'd crack one out, while I'm waiting for my new job to start. Strangely it's more cock growth orientated than muscle growth, as muscle-growth was my original fetish. But there is muscle growth, and should it be worth continuing, there will be plenty more! So, please give constructive criticism and/or praise. Mainly praise. Basically just tell me it's awesome. But honestly, any feedback is appreciated, and should I have enough interest and then time, I may try to continue it. Title may be confusing: grUV - pronounced "groovy". Short for growth: ultra-violet. Which is a teaser for the basis of the growth. But enough waffle, here is: Chapter 1 Wow. What a night. I awoke with a slow grogginess that so often accompanies a night out clubbing down the bay with Dave. Thankfully we don’t have far to walk back, as he has a boat out in the harbour, docked out at sea. Nevertheless, the fact you have to use one of the numerous row boats to row out to it is always hilarious, especially when you’re as drunk as we were. “Ok?” What. I stared blankly, my eyes trying to focus, and take in what had awoken me. “I said, I’m rowing back into harbour to get some food for us all from town.” “Us all?” I croaked back. “Yeah, you, me and Brad.” “Brad?” “That guy I tried to introduce you to at the club. I’ve always said he can crash on the boat if he doesn’t feel like getting the last train back to his place. Looks like he took me up on my offer again, and rowed himself over at some point last night.” Dave explained. I had a vague memory of the cabin door banging open, and waking me in the middle of the night, and seeing a silhouette of a man, as he flopped onto some cushioning on the other side. I couldn’t remember meeting anyone specific at the club, we talked to a lot of people, and all I saw last night was a biggish shadow fall onto the bed near me, I couldn’t make out any discernible features. Nevertheless, I was in no mood to push for details, so simply responded with, “Cool”. “Yeah. He’s already up and gone for a swim. Maniac. Anyway, I’ll be quick as I can, but be nice. You were definitely too out of it to properly get to know him last night.” With that Dave went to the stern and hopped overboard into one of the two rowboats tied to his boat. I lay a while longer, grabbed a bottle of water, did a few stretches, and after a few minutes, felt well enough to venture out of the cabin and into the summer sun. I was just wearing underwear and shorts from last night, so I felt the heat of the sun immediately on my body. It was nice, but blinding. When my eyes adjusted, I looked out to the water, and caught sight of what must’ve been Brad swimming pretty fast back and forth. I took a seat at the starboard side of the bow, so I could face out to sea and watch him. After a few minutes he paused, and looked over to the boat. I gave a very unenergetic wave, but he responded, and began to make his way over to the boat. He heaved himself up onto the boat and for the first time I got a good look at him. The size of the shadow I glimpsed last night did not do him justice. The water trailed off his traps as his torso rose ever higher as he hauled himself up. He gripped the railings harder and pushed himself up, two triceps exploding to life as he did. He then swung a massive leg over the railing, and it landed with a heavy splash on the decking. He flashed me a smile as he began pulling himself to his full height. He had short dark hair which flowed beautifully into full stubble that lined his masculine jaw. His skin was a glowing olive, all of which offset a pair of blue eyes that sparkled like the sea that was still dripping off him. I watched a drop slowly begin descending from his neck. It travelled down the valley between two meaty pecs, and I continued to follow it as it meandered between his six abs. As it fell further, my eyes landed on his crotch. He was wearing just a red speedo. It was dark but shiny from having just been in the water. It looked a size too big for him, being quite wrinkly rather than hanging tightly on him. I assumed he was a bit of a modest fellow who didn’t want to draw attention, or maybe he lost weight recently. But I couldn’t dwell on my thoughts much longer, as he was standing fully upright now, had turned to face me, and said “Hey Stranger, the name’s Brad!”. I introduced myself and gestured for him to sit down just across from me on the other side of the bow. This gave me a great view of him as he sat down opposite me. He leant back against the railing, lying at almost 45˚, exposing his muscular torso to the sun. He brought up his left leg onto the cushioning and leaned his left elbow on it as he supported his head, commenting on how he was still feeling the effects of last night’s drinks. His bicep flexed and bounced up and down as he rubbed his head. His arms were huge, certainly the biggest I had seen up this close, I reckoned at least 18 inches. I empathised with his hangover, and we spoke about what we did remember from last night. He was quite a talker, but I was happy to listen. His pecs heaved when he laughed about the antics he got up to. The drips highlighted how defined and cut he was. I felt I was staring for ages. It must’ve been a while, because the sea water was beginning to dry, and left his body literally glinting in the sun. His speedos were also beginning to look lighter in colour, and I noticed also less loose. This caught my attention, but I wanted to be subtle. I kept directing open questions to him, and only answering with a yes or no to him, so he was soon lost in his stories again. I stole glances down every time he looked away, or closed his eyes to try and remember details of his night. I was right, his cock was definitely growing down there. The wrinkles of the suit began to disappear as a bulge began to form at his crotch. I could begin to see the shape of his dick as it slowly lengthened and filled the speedo out more. It also looked like his balls were expanding too, as the material of lower part also straightened out. As he rambled on, he continued to get bigger down there. His cock was lengthening and thickening; but now with the suit clinging relatively tightly to his new size, the material stopped any further advancement forward. I swear I could see the bulge kink and bend round as it still tried to thicken. This is when it suddenly dawned on me that he wasn’t getting hard. I theorised his genitals must have shrunk down a lot from his swim in the cold morning water. And now he was just warming up to his natural impressive size. However, the misshapen slowly growing bulge looked uncomfortable; and it must’ve been, as while he was still talking, he very nonchalantly pulled the waistband away from his body and bucked his hips. His cock lurched forward and down as it unfolded and grew into the new available space. As he let the speedo snap back onto his body, it now hugged a very impressive round sexy bulge, perfectly filling the perfectly-sized tight red suit. I figured he must be a healthy 5 to 6 inches soft, and pretty thick. Which was quite a pleasant unexpected growth from the initial practically non-existent bulge from his chilly willy I first saw. I was sure this was the case; nevertheless, I decided to test my theory. “How was the water?” I interjected when he finally wrapped up his current saga. “Not gonna lie mate, it was pretty nippy. Sun’s barely had time to warm it at all. Although an ice-cold blast does wonders for the hangover.” He replied. Well the sun had had time to dry him up nicely, and was now reflecting off the salt crystals peppering his chiselled torso. He was a sight to behold, and now that his crotch had stopped growing, I was finally appreciating the rest of him. And there were a lot of bulges to appreciate as they rippled from time to time soaking up the sun. “Why, you thinking of going for a dip?” He said as he stood up to get a bottle of water from the cooler Dave had on board. I watched as he rose to his 6’2” height. Turning sideways to walk across in front of me, I saw his big ass and quads tighten and marvelled as the big red bulge jiggled as he stepped. In profile it was clear just how sexily prominent his bulge was, its heft tugging on the material, showing it was in control, not the other way around. As he spun round to return to his seating position, again with one leg up, giving the bulge breathing space, I finally responded, “Perhaps I will in a bit. As you say, it might help with the headache”. “You a strong swimmer?” He continued. “Yeah, actually, in fact I was captain of my school’s swim team.” I said. “No way! Me too! Well when it wasn’t rugby season.” He replied. We began to converse about our various sporting endeavours at school. The conversation being much more two-way now that I wasn’t trying to ogle him. That being said, after several minutes, I did steal a glance down again. Seeing as he was almost displaying his bulge in that open position, it might seem weird if I keep avoiding it. My eyes quickly flicked back up to his, as I responded to his latest inquiry about which athletic events I preferred. My mouth ran off some generic answers, as my brain was pondering once again whether his speedo package was looking larger than before. I began stealing more regular glances. It was hard to tell. But when he went for a swig of water, tilting his head back, I decided to grab a longer look. I watched, it was hard to discern, but I swear I watched the whole round bulge slowly push the speedo further out as it enlarged. His head came back down, and I made sure to meet his gaze as he let out a refreshing sigh. Now, that I was curious again, I resorted to my initial tactic of getting him monologuing, so I could keep tabs on what appeared to be an ever-growing package. As he answered my barrage of questions, I was able to keep peaking down at his red speedo. I couldn’t stare long enough to visibly see any growth in action, but evidence came in another form. I started to note that wrinkles were beginning to reappear in the suit. Whereas before, the wrinkles suggested a speedo too large for him, these taut lines represented quite the opposite. Initially it was just two. Two lines stretching from each side of the suit to the middle, fading as they reached the flesh-filled pouch. However, with each glance, more wrinkle lines would appear. Four. Six. As the round bulge swelled bigger and pushed forward they continued to appear. Eight. Ten. Twelve! Again, as I was only glancing briefly, I could not see the growth, but on my most recent peek, I clocked that his bulge was almost in line with the end of the cushion now. There were soon too many wrinkles to count, and I noted that there didn’t seem to be any more room for more to form. Additionally, more of his legs were being exposed at the sides, as all the material was being pulled forward by the expanding bulge. He certainly seemed oblivious to all this going on, still chatting away about how much harder it is to play team sports outside of education. I didn’t know how much longer he couldn’t notice for though, the speedo seemed stretched to the limit. Then I heard it. It was hard to make out, as big Brad was still nattering on, but I heard what sounded like finger being dragged along the surface of an inflated balloon. I knew it must have been the fabric of the speedo straining after even more growth from his monstrous package. My theory was confirmed when my next cheeky glance down revealed that a space had been created above his muscular thighs where the material was now lifting away, pulled by what had to be about 9 inches of thick cock. I returned my attention back to Brad, had he not heard it? Apparently not, as he was still mid-sentence and continuing on like nothing happened. However, a few seconds later, I heard it again; and more prominently, as it fell between two words Brad was uttering. Brad continued speaking, but I saw a flash of shock appear in his eyes, and while talking he finally brought his leg down, and leant forward, trying to obscure my view of his bigger bulge. It worked briefly, my attention was now on his hefty pecs, making a muscular cleavage in this new hunched position, but I looked down again, and could still make out the bulge, which was now in line with end of the cushion on which he sat. Brad’s sudden fear and shift in posture must have meant he was aware of what was happening. I looked back into his eyes, waiting to see if he was going to acknowledge this weird occurrence. But he continued his story, finally finishing with a question to me. “Umm,” I murmured, then paused while I tried to actually think of what he had just asked me. But in that silence, the sound of the speedo stretching happened again. With no voice to mask it, it was clear, to us both, what had just happened. I looked to him, and we shared an intense eye contact, still in silence, still gazing into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, a huge, loud and long, fabric-wrenching sound was emitted from his crotch as the speedo strained ever further. I couldn’t help but stare down, as I was now able to clearly see the dreamy round bulge surge forth and begin to overhang the seat. It was growing so big, stretching the speedo, making it paler in colour. “Umm,” I began again, “Are you okay?” I naively asked. Brad slowly and simply leant back against the railings, and spread his legs, allowing me a full unobstructed view of his almighty size. He then grew again. I was unabashedly ogling his growing crotch. The sight, coupled with the sound of the fabric slowly losing its fight to his beastly dick, was such a turn on. “Yeah, I’m very okay.” He replied, almost laughing “You okay?”. I leant back too, “Yeah, maybe too okay!” I joked as my new posture revealed my tenting shorts. Brad laughed. “I wish I had known you were gay, I wouldn’t have been holding back otherwise!” His words were followed by three short bursts of rubbery stretching sounds as the tip of his bulge juddered bit by bit closer to the ground. “Holding back?” I questioned, “Wait, you’re not getting hard right now?” Brad laughed again. “Does this look hard to you?” He said cupping his giant package with his right hand. The round shape and way the bulge moved as its huge size overflowed his hand told me he was indeed still soft. “N.. No.” I stammered, “Bu…but, how?”. “Well, I’m guessing Dave’s suncream isn’t as water resistant as it claimed.” I stared blankly. Brad continued to explain further. “It seems when my body soaks up the sun and makes vitamin D, well, it really makes vitamin D.” His emphasis on the ‘D’ was complimented by another audible strain from his speedo, as his cock probably entered double figures in length. “Basically, when UV light hits my skin, it seems to make another hormone, as well as vitamin D, that goes to my dick and starts to make it grow. My balls too. The more light, the stronger the sun, the more skin exposed, the faster it happens. So, on a summery day like today, when I’m wearing only this, and haven’t got any protection on, well…” He trailed off, gesturing towards the now pinkish tight speedo barely containing an ever growing mass of meat. It grew again, this time the straining noise sounded a little different, almost as though a few of the fabric’s threads were beginning to snap. The change in tone made the tent in my lap bob a little higher. Brad smirked as he saw my cock trying to grow like his, but failing. He adjusted his position, rocking his hips slightly, and I gazed in awe, as the huge soft bulge continued to jiggle for a couple of seconds, which then reminded me, “Wait, you said you were holding back? …What did you mean by that?” “Yeah, you’re cute. I was trying to not get turned on. But seeing as you like…” He paused, and I heard a similar sound to the one just before, as I saw his cock jump a little, “perhaps I should stop resisting”. Suddenly a big straining sound was emitted, accompanied by some definite tearing sounds, as I saw a hardening cock shape surge forth. I could make out the outline of what was cock and what was balls now. Both hugely impressive sizes. Brad grunted and bucked his hips, and I could see the difference the erection was making to his genital growth. His cock was growing far faster than his balls as he got harder. The thick rod was pressed up against the ever-thinning material, so tight that I could make out the patterns of the veins on his dick. Especially as they continued to grow from both his arousal and his unique UV-absorbing condition. Brad moaned as another bout of rubbery straining and ripping sounds emanated from his crotch as the cock tried to lift away from his body as he got even harder. It was beginning to throb, and each pulse was accompanied by a ripping sound. I watched in lustful amazement as I saw holes beginning to appear in the speedo to the left and right of this mountainous bulge. Numerous ripping sounds continued as those strained wrinkle lines tore open into holes, allowing the speedo more slack. But it still wasn’t enough, as Brad’s cock quickly grew to fill the extra room. He was getting so big and hard, it looked around 14”. I could see most of it, as the base was exposed as his cockhead had pulled the waistband well away, and the speedo was more holes than material now. It was throbbing fast, and seemed to struggle to make that final growth it needed to burst free. Brad put both hands on the railings behind him, closed his eyes, leaned his head overboard, and then thrust. I watched as the base of his cock thickened substantially, the swelling then spread in a wave up his shaft, finally reaching his tip, which thickened too, adding that little bit of length so that a huge pop was heard as the speedo disintegrated into shreds, and a huge thick cock slapped up against his quivering abs. Brad was breathing fast, and I was dripping pre, having watched that sexy spectacle. But it wasn’t over. In fact, I guess even more skin was exposed now to the sunlight, which would only increase his growth. His cock pointed straight up and was thick and rigid, now at full mast. But as I suspected the growth continued. I watched as his two apple-sized balls seemed to fill, his cock was nudging up a little higher with each throb, hard to notice, but I could see. And very soon it drew Brad’s attention as the head dug into his pec shelf. He opened his eyes and looked down. Acknowledging the problem, he sank back down onto the cushion, and grabbed his shaft with his left hand pulled it away from his body. Fuck he was thick, his grasp not even close to encircling his cock. He then looked towards me, and pointed his cockhead in my direction and asked, “Want a taste?”. I didn’t even answer but simply moved across to him, took his monster in both my hands and pulled his cockhead into my mouth. It was a tight fit, but incredibly arousing. I slowly pulled my lips back off it, wetting the entirety of the head. I then used my tongue to lick all over his slit and glans, while my hands worked up and down what felt like a telegraph pole. I then eased the head back into my mouth, and began rhythmically bobbing my head up and down. I could feel him sliding past on all sides of my mouth as his fat head pounded the back of my throat. God, he was filling up all the space in my mouth. I then remembered he must still be growing, despite me shading part of his body. I decided to pause and hold everything in place, just so I could feel this miracle. At first, I couldn’t sense any growth. But I moved my hands together so they formed a ring around his shaft, and soon I noticed how his cock was slowly expanding, as my interlocking fingers were being pulled apart by this growing man meat. I then realised that his cockhead was now at the back of my throat, not because I had gone further down on him, but because he had grown another 2 inches in length. I noticed he was getting much thicker too, as my fingertips finally parted. His cockhead was no exception and was pushing against all sides of my mouth, allowing no passage of air. This realisation was such a turn on I almost came right there and then. But the need to breathe triumphed, and I jolted my head back, gasping, while pulling his mammoth junk from my mouth. “Well, well.” Said Brad, “Looks like you are enjoying. Perhaps we should move into the cabin before I become just too fucking big!” And with a smug grin, his cock grew up to halfway up his chest. Brad grabbed it, and began angling it down. “Open wide!” I looked at him confused and scared. How could he think that thing was going to fit in my mouth again after it just nearly choked me? “Your legs, silly!” He explained as he squatted down and slid his 18” dick under my groin. He slowly rose, pausing as he began to take my weight on his thick cock. I saw his quads bulge with dense striated muscle. After all this focus on his growing dick, I had forgotten just how hot and muscular he was. His thighs pumped up and his abs tensed, and he slowly stood up with me supported on his cock, balancing with my hands on his bulging shoulders. I could feel another dark spot of pre leaking onto my tented shorts, this was just so hot; but thankfully Brad wouldn’t have been able to see underneath his big pecs. Standing tall, Brad’s body was now fully bathed in sunlight. As he began marching me atop his junk, towards the cabin, I felt the rate of his cock growth increase, as the log supporting me thickened and rapidly lengthened, splaying my legs further apart. I let go of one of his shoulders, and felt the cock behind me as it grew to 20” and then 22”, each pulse lifting me higher as it gained more strength to take my weight. We made it to the cabin, and everything stopped. Out of the direct sunlight, and so the UV, Brad’s cock finally stopped growing. “Well,” he said, “I’m yours.” I stared into his handsome face, and again saw a smug grin come over his face. He throbbed his mammoth beast, and the rising cock angle made me slide down so that I faceplanted into his chest and stabbed him in the abs with my own boner. “Ooof,” He reacted, “That’s quite the weapon you’ve got there yourself. How about you free him from his prison.” I felt the same way, so swung my left leg over his huge cock and dropped to the floor. As I did so, his cock, now unburdened, swung up and the tip was level with the base of his neck. Having quickly whipped off my shorts and underwear before Brad saw the pre stains, I spun round to take in the view of him again. Gigantic. Everything. Pure masculinity. I had to service him. I grabbed the hand nearest to me, and began feeling and licking all the way up his arms; my tongue and fingers caressing every groove between the thick cords of muscle. On reaching his shoulder, I turned to face him, and had to stretch to touch each shoulder with each hand. His cockhead was level with my face, and was almost touching my nose as his broad chest pushed it out. I tried to ignore it for now, instead sliding both arms down to his biceps. He responded naturally, and raised both arms into a double bicep flex. Big boulders erupted forth, they split my fingers apart, and I tried to dig in, but the meat was just solid strength. I let my hands wander down to his pecs, and like clockwork, Brad started bouncing them, and my cock bounced in unison, tickling his balls in the process. I looked down and saw them. They were like two soft bowling balls, dangling down, halfway to his knees. I was so intrigued, I started fondling them, not noticing Brad begin to moan. I bent down and began to lick all around them, supporting their hefty weight in my hands, and watching as they overflowed from one of my palms to the other. As I licked them from bottom to top, I let my tongue run onto the base of Brad’s dick. He let out a louder deep moan, causing me to look up. I noticed now that his nipples had become sensitised, having thickened up, and were standing out a good half inch from his meaty pecs. I couldn’t resist, I jumped on his right one with my mouth, and began teasing and sucking at it, while ran my hands over his cobblestone abs, still trying to ignore the throbbing pillar next to my cheek. Brad moans only grew louder, he was loving this, and as I switched across to his left nipple, I saw a bead of pre run down his mighty shaft. While nibbling on his left nipple, I decided to reach across with my left hand and play with his right nipple simultaneously. In doing so, my arm was pressed against his 22” cock, and I could feel each throb, and just sense the power in it as it constantly vibrated with pure sexual energy. I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I left both hands twiddling at his teats, but began using my mouth to wet the beast before me. Round and round, up and down I went with my tongue, soaking his member, and causing Brad to start egging me on. When I was confident I had lubricated most of his shaft, I released his nipples and grabbed his cock with both hands, and began pumping his cannon. While continuing to wank him, I pulled the head towards me, at this angle, it was level with my mouth, and although too thick to fully fit in, I did my best to massage the glans with my lips. This was clearly appreciated by Brad, who began moaning and bucking. It was getting so hot, I had to pleasure myself too. One hand on my cock, the other on the largest one on the planet, while my mouth continued to suck its head. I accelerated the pace more and more, and more, until I realised I was close to cumming. “Fuck, I gotta stop!” I panted. “No worries,” Brad replied, “You certainly got me going good!” As I began to regain some composure, a thought suddenly crossed my mind. “OK, I gotta question… if it’s sunlight which makes… this… happen, then how come you don’t already have a cock as long as a road?” “Well, the effects wear off after I cum. I guess all the energy is stored as cum, and having it kept there causes my junk to grow. But once its released, everything returns to its previous state.” I must’ve flashed a look of slight disappointment, as Brad quickly continued, “But I never used to be this muscular, or have an almost 6 inch soft cock. Or even this tall. But a man gets curious; and I tried my own come once, and noticed it led to some permanent gains.” He said as he flexed a bicep up to my face. I grab my dick and slowly start stroking in response. “If you carry on as you did before, you might get a treat”. The idea that I could possibly grow larger, seemingly everywhere, was such a turn on that I was once again close to the brink of orgasm, and a large globule of pre emerged from my slit and ran down my quivering cock. Brad noted this and decisively spoke up, “Actually, I think you’ll like to watch this.” He walked over to the cabin door and stood in its entrance. I was wondering what he was doing, but then as I caught sight of the back of his hefty ballsack dropping down further towards his knees, I realised he was growing himself in the sun again. He was there for not even a minute, and then he spun round. Over 2 feet of thick meaty cock was advancing towards me, the tip bouncing around, now level with Brad’s luscious lips. He stopped inches from me. Bent his head a little down, and pulled his bloated cockhead into his mouth as much as he could. His lips moistened the slit as he used his bulging arms to forcefully pump the column before me. Brad began to moan as his actions became faster and stronger. I had subconsciously began wanking myself too. Brad’s eyes shut, and I could swear he was moaning ‘Fuck’ although his mouth was gagged by a head the size of a rugby ball. He let out one massive but muffled moan, and his stroking suddenly ceased. I looked down and saw his balls heave, and then watched his cock jerk as a torrent of cum ran up inside it and gushed into Brad’s mouth. The instant he began swallowing, I noticed him changing. I took a step back and watched as his whole body seemed to scale-up larger, keeping everything in proportion as he inched up, reaching now what must’ve been a towering 6’3”. He released his cock from his mouth, the spurts having finally ended, and I watched it lengthen an inch or two by itself so that the tip bumped against the bridge of his nose. I was on the edge, pumping like a maniac. Brad opened his eyes, saw me, and immediately placed his hands on his hips. And within an instant I saw his pecs puff out massively, expanding in size, weight and strength. His abs all swelled, fighting for space, and as he lifted his arms up and flexed, I saw his biceps grow larger and larger than before. His muscles were surging with much more energy than the rest of him, and that was my weakness. As his guns grew past the 20” mark, I blew my load and splattered his ripped torso, as his growth finally began to subside. We were both left standing there, catching our breath. I apologised for spraying Brad, and he laughed it off, grabbing a towel. I watched as he wiped my cum off him, and noticed his balls were back to normal, well maybe a slightly bigger size, but I had no reference point. His cock on the other hand was still looming towards me at an inflated size. However, I watched as it both began to soften and shrink, arcing down in the process. Brad cast the towel aside, and looked down at himself from his new height. After what I had just witnessed, his flaccid cock looked a sorry sight. But after glancing back at my own, and then back at Brad’s, I realised he must be 7 inches soft now! Plus Brad certainly didn’t seem unimpressed. “Fuck! Look at me, I’m massive!” He bellowed, as he struck pose after pose. It was true, his muscles had significantly grown. Dave might not pick up on the extra inch in height or cock, but Brad’s bodybuilder stature biceps and pecs were bound to give the game away. I wonder if Dave knows about this? “Damn,” continued Brad as he cupped his enormous left pec in his right hand, “This is incredible! …but we best get covered up before Dave comes back with the food.” I began redressing. Luckily the hot weather would dry my shorts out pretty quick from any embarrassing stains. I watched Brad rummage around the cabin until he found a pair of metallic blue speedos. He struggled to pull them up over his bigger legs. “Wow, I can’t believe how much my calves have grown. …Makes …this uuh..h. a bit difficult though, ..my quads too…” He wriggled about, his meaty muscles tensing and untensing in the process. They were just so big and defined now, I had never seen anything like it. Fuck I was getting aroused again. Brad eventually got the speedos on and over his genitals. They were super tight. And they made such a big beautiful blue bulge. It was shiny and massive, and I can’t believe I ever thought it looked small. Even framed by large cobbled abs and big quads, its size was unmistakeable. His thick 7 inch soft cock and balls already strained the material into a mouth-watering, big, round, shiny bulge. I couldn’t help but start boning up again. It looked so good. Brad caught sight of this, “Calm down now, Dave will be back any second.” I nodded, a bit disappointed and dropped my head. But instantly sprang it back up when I heard the now familiar sound of speedo fibres stretching. Brad was blushing, his arousal given away, and a glance at his package revealed some new taut wrinkles and a bit of delineation showing the outline of his chubbing cock. “No really,” Brad interrupted, resisting the moment, “let’s have you rub some suncream on my new muscles before I ruin another decent pair of speedos!”.
  19. MuscleNexusTF

    Subject #3

    Hi guys! After a little hiatus taking care of my own bodybuilding goals (did a cycle and got big) I'm back! To celebrate here's a story There's a version with a 3D illustration over at my Patreon account, it would mean the world to me if you took a quick look (to be honest I need the money for more food and gear 😛). Check it out here: https://www.patreon.com/MuscleNexus And with that out of the way, here's the story!: “Drip.” “Drip.” “Drip.” Cody grimaced as a he felt a cool liquid running down his face. He groaned. He felt like he was waking up with the worst hangover of his young life. “Urgh.” He propped himself up, rubbed his eyes, and took in his surroundings. “What the fuck.” He wasn’t in his warm bed nor was he in his little studio apartment. “Drip.” Cody looked up to see the steady rain of water droplets escaping from a crack in the ceiling. It looked like he was in some sort of warehouse, or abandoned mall. And it was flooded. Everything had a fresh layer of moisture on it and the air was cool with the feeling and scent of fresh rain. He peeled his shirt off his skinny frame, it was soaked through. The rest of his clothes were too. He noticed the gloves on his hands and suddenly remembered what he was doing. He had been biking to work, but decided at the last minute to take a slightly different route. A route that forced him to past the long-abandoned shopping mall. Cody slid to his feet. He needed to find a way out. He spun side to side, looking for any hope of an exit. Finding none he walked to the railing and looked into the lower level of the abandoned mall. The entire first floor was flooded almost all the way to the second. Perhaps there was an emergency exit down there he could try… Cody took a deep breath, ready to dive in, when a tinny electronic voice crackled through the empty halls of the mall. “Subject number three. Observation beginning at 10:33 AM. Investigational product nineteen administered at 10:05. Primary therapeutic effect expected in two minutes. Standby.” “What?” Cody croaked, instinctively rubbing a sore spot on his delt where there was a small drop of blood and pinprick. “Hey! Heeeeey! Hello!” Cody called. “I’m not some kind of science experiment! What’s going on.” Cody nodded with satisfaction as the loudspeaker crackled into life again, at least he would get some answers. “Subject three, you are an experiment. Investigational product initiation expected in twenty-five seconds.” Cody swallowed hard. His throat felt swollen and tender, he placed a hand up to it and felt the barely perceptible thickening of the muscles and cords that ran it’s length. He groaned deeply as his whole body suddenly felt hot and heavy. “What.. Is… This…?” Every word sounded slightly deeper than the last. Somewhere in the back of his mind Cody began to feel pleasure mixing with his fear. He glanced at his expanding forearm as thick veins bulged across it and cried out a little. “No, no, no!” It was suddenly clear what was happening. “I don’t want this! I don’t want to be big!” He called out in desperation to nobody in the empty mall. His groans increased in desperation and pleasure as the man that was Cody became subject #3. At the bottom of his vision he saw his chest heavy with every breath, growing into thick slabs of muscle that hardened and jumped with even the tiniest movements of his arm. Below each sagging pec his belly swelled with muscle. He rubbed the fine hairs that dusted his turtle-shell like abs, not expecting to feel the jolt of pleasure that giving himself muscle belly rubs brought. His attention was suddenly brought to his lower half as he heard the fabric in his lycra biking shorts straining and ripping. Loose only moments ago they showed serious signs of strain against his rapidly swelling thighs, ass, and package. Cody groaned and grabbed the latter of these through the tight fabric. He lost himself for a moment, feeling the thickening meat in his shorts, but then regained clarity when an audible moan escaped his lips. “No. Not… Me.” He managed to growl before yanking his hand back. He staggered back a little, noticing the heavy thuds that his overgrown calves and feet made against the floor. He groaned again involuntarily as he realized how massive he had become and was becoming. Cody would’ve hated the overgrown mass monster standing in the abandoned mall, but subject #3 had different opinions. With a small gasp of defeat Cody looked himself over. He knew he would never be able to return to his life as the clean cut professional that had been biking to work only half an hour ago. “I freak,” he managed to croak. Subject #3 let his hand return to the throbbing meat in his shorts and never thought of Cody again.
  20. pasidious

    Camjerk

    Guys, this is more of an experiment than anything else. I hope it's even slightly as enjoyable as the last story I posted. Please let me know what you think, even if it sucks! I do want to take a moment here and thank everyone who's read my stories so far and all the love I have received. It means so much to me. After the first written thing I ever posted, the positive feedback has given me the confidence to keep writing, and I appreciate it all so much. ____________________________________ I was introduced to this new website called Chaturbate recently. Well, new to me, anyway. As a gay 24 year old male, it offered some great eye candy. I loved clicking on various pages, watching these guys do sexy things in front of a live camera for their audiences, all the while knowing damn well they were being watched. I think it was the fact that they knew they were being watched that made it even hotter. They would voluntarily get in front of a live camera feed, whip out their dicks, often times get completely naked, and jerk off, or even invite others into the scene for even more fun. What was it about watching another dude jerk off that was so enticing; so hot? I mean, sure, we had our preferences. Some dudes were more attractive than others. To each his own, of course. But why was it so hot to see another dude jerk off? I couldn't figure it out. And, I guess I wasn't all that concerned with it, either. I wasn't a sociologist, nor was I trying to be one. All I knew was if I wanted to see some hot shit, I would go to Chaturbate and look for some hot guys to watch. And I'm sure we all know well enough how that site works, now. The "models" didn't do it entirely for free. Viewers had the option to "tip" them in the form of virtual currency. Often times the models would perform requests when tip goals were met. I, personally, always looked for the muscled dudes to watch, and I would always hope to catch some flexing, and some viewers would even request a flex or two. I wanted to tip so many of the models so badly, but I didn't have the money to throw at them. As time has gone on, however, the site has become boring. As it's become more and more popular, more and more models will just sit in front of the camera and do literally nothing until tips are received. I haven't been able to truly enjoy a Chaturbate model in a long time. In my opinion, they've lost sight of the whole point. Now it's all about the money. And they've become boring, as a result. Money does tend to ruin things. We all know it. So, I've stuck with the other sexy things I've found over the years to look at, like Muscle-growth.org, or YouTube flexing videos. I can usually find something hot to look at either way. I just really enjoyed Chaturbate because the fact that it was all live made it so hot. It made the models so much more real. And then I came across another website. It wasn't too far off from the concept Chaturbate used. When I was horny, I'd sit myself down knowing full well that I wanted to be hard and throbbing, eventually shooting a load. I loved being horny, to begin with. There is nothing much better than feeling your dick growing and swelling within the confines of your pants or shorts; the skin of your cock sliding against the fabric, the friction causing jolts of pleasure that shoot all over your crotch. I'd often be grabbing myself during the hardening process, feeling my own dick swelling within my hand, hardening, getting thicker and bigger. It intensified the horny feeling. I'd be perusing the Muscle-growth.org forums, reading stories, or looking at the media, feeling my dick growing bigger and bigger. I was never satisfied with all I could ever find, though. Every once in a while I'd check back with Chaturbate to see if there was any change in the models' behavior, but they'd usually be just too boring to cause any real pleasure. Even if they were naked, they'd still just sit there. BUT, as we all probably know, searching the net can yield surprising results. One day I found a new site much like Chaturbate. It was an accidental discovery, but then again, so was Muscle-growth.org. I came across this new site called Camjerk. It followed the same principle; it had models that would sit in front of a live cam who seemed just too happy to get off on people watching them. And, since it was a fresh site, the models were much more interactive, showing off and jerking and flexing and doing whatever just to get reactions in the chat box from the audience. I loved watching the muscled dudes, too, because even when they weren't flexing, their muscles were still on display. They'd flex pretty nicely just from jerking off. Pecs would stand out and involuntarily flex, getting pumped even, showing veins. Arms, of course, would get pumped up as well, and biceps would flex and unflex as they'd move their hands up and down over their dicks. FUCK, the muscled dudes were the best to watch. I'd even gone and purchased the virtual currency from this site so I could tip my favorite models. They'd always show their appreciation with flexing, no matter how small the tip. One day I was feeling pretty hot and horny. Which... was pretty much every day, for me. Nevertheless, I felt like I needed to shoot a load. So, I went straight to Camjerk. None of my favorites were online, which was disappointing, but it didn't stop me from browsing the other profiles on the site. I came across this one profile close to the bottom. He didn't have any followers, and I assumed he was new. His profile said he was 21, and had his body type listed as "muscular." That piqued my interest, and I felt he was worth checking out. He wasn't on-camera in the preview thumbnail, which gave me nothing to work with, at least not yet. I clicked on him, and saw a live video feed of an empty chair. He was away, I guessed, and I decided to wait a few minutes before moving on to something else. He had no other viewer than just me. I wanted to see just how muscular he was, though. I decided to check out my phone while I waited. I was looking down, scrolling through Facebook, when I heard some sound come through my computer speakers. I looked up at my computer screen and I saw a guy settling down in the chair that was originally in the video shot. The area in which he was situated seemed to be part a bedroom, as I could see part of a dresser in the image, and I could see some clothes strewn about on the floor, as well as part of a closet door. Or what I assumed was a closet door. The walls of the room were plain white, with not much adorning the walls except a single picture of what appeared to be a family member or perhaps a friend. I focused on the guy in the chair. He really did look 21. He had a cute face; round nose, slightly tanned, perfectly shaped lips that were neither too big nor too small. Perfect for kissing, I'm sure. His left ear had two of those hoop earrings, but they were black, not silver or gold. His hair was light brown, shaggy, and not curly, but it wasn't quite straight either. He had that "bed head" look, perfectly pulled off in a way that few guys can manage. His eyes were bright blue, which were striking. Not common for brown haired dudes. But the thing that disappointed me, though, was that he was not at all muscular. His profile had that lie on it. He was very thin, mostly skin and bones. He had a t-shirt on, yes, but I could just tell. His shirt was plain white, no decals or anything on it. His arms hung from the sleeves with plenty of space, like noodles. I had to admit, though, that he was extremely attractive. I wanted to move on to another model, but his face was so hot. Plus, I wanted to see if any other viewers called him out on his lie about being muscular. I checked the viewer count, and I was still the only one. Hmm. This poor dude didn't seem to have any fans. He's been online for a while now, thirty minutes, according to the information on his page. I was still somehow his only viewer? Who wouldn't want to look at this guy? He was just sitting in his chair, with a somewhat neutral look on his face. He was mostly just chilling; looking around the room, sometimes at the camera, sometimes at his phone. I decided to send him a message in the global chat box. Me: Hi how are you? He was looking at his phone, but I heard the message sound from his side and he looked up. He smiled a bit, reading the message, but then went back to looking at his phone. Okayyyy.... I wasn't sure what his goal was. Doesn't he want tips? Why else would he be on this site? It was starting to make more sense now that he only had one viewer. But I was invested in at least figuring this guy out, and I sent him another message. Me: Hello? Are you planning to do anything? He looked up again at the message, smiled again, and typed a response. Him: yea i will i jus need tips I was astounded. What a bold guy. I looked at his profile again and noticed his "Lifetime tips received" amount was at zero. He's literally never even gotten a tip. Me: You want tips to do something? Have you ever considered earning them first? Him: if anyone would actually tip me, id more then earn them Me: What do you mean Him: tip and see dude Me: There are plenty of other guys I could tip, give me something small, anything, first. You're not even muscular, and your profile says you are. Him: lol man i dont even care about the tips, i jus need them to do what i wanna do, and believe me, i wanna do it so bad What. Me: What's stopping you? Just do it. Whatever it is. You're attractive as hell, I want to see you do something. Him: jus tip me 1 token man if you wanna see why my profile has no lie on it jus tip me This whole time he's sitting there, typing away, with a shifting expression on his face. He started out somewhat amused, but the more I messaged him, the more of a worried look he developed. Damn. I guess he really did just want a tip. He said just one token, and I guess that's not unreasonable. I could spare a single token, even if it means he still doesn't do anything. He was cute as fuck. I couldn't stand the disappointed face he was making, even if it was still cute. Me: Fine. I'll give you a tip. His face lit up and he smiled a wide smile, almost cocky even. I moved my mouse cursor over the tip button and clicked on it, and the dialogue box popped up with the field into which I type how much I want to tip. I entered '1'. Then, I pressed enter. I looked back at the video feed and saw him sitting there with an expectant expression looking into the camera. He was biting his bottom lip. I was slightly expectant, as well. I wanted to see what he would do, and I sort of anticipated something like removing his clothes, or showing his dick. But he just sat there, like he was waiting for something. Then I heard the sound of a tip receipt on his end, the confirmation noise he hears when a tip comes through. Immediately he closed his eyes, his head tilted back slightly. He exhaled a deep breath, with a smile on his face. "Here it comes," he says. Then I saw it. His shoulders broadened, right there in front of me, on camera. I saw his neck thicken, and his traps rose up a bit where there were none, before. "Ahhh..." He opened his eyes, looked into the camera, and said "This feels so gooooood." He turned his head, then, and raised his left arm. He pulled the sleeve back, and said "Watch." He flexed his arm, and fuck. His bicep started to swell, and right there in front of me I saw a vein begin to show and protrude. He pumped it a few times, and it swelled slightly more. I realized right then that my dick was rock hard as I watched this dude grow. He dropped his arm, and sat relaxed again. "Now do you see? That's what happens when I get tips." He grinned. Me: Holy shit! Are you for real? How did you do that? Is this some kind of CGI stuff?" Him: no dude, im real lol tip me more to see more I was completely flabbergasted. It was a hot thing to see, for sure, but I wasn't convinced that it was real. Could it be real? Part of me felt like I was being duped. But it was hot, no matter what. I wanted to see more. I went to the tip box again and this time entered ten tokens. I pressed send, and I waited for him to receive it. He was sitting in his chair, absent-mindedly feeling his own arms, when the tip sound came through again. His eyes widened when he heard it. "Oh god, dude, thanks so much. I love how this feels!" He threw his head back, "oohhh yeaaahhh..." he moaned. His shoulders broadened more, and I could see stress lines forming on the front of his shirt. And then I saw his chest pushing out, swelling, growing. His shoulders weren't just broadening, they were growing bigger, too, as I saw them rounding out and bulging within the fabric of his shirt. His sleeves were riding up his arms. He flexed into a double bicep this time, and FUCK! His arms were growing bigger, swelling into tennis balls. His vascularity was increasing as well. He was looking into the camera again, pumping his arms. "FUCK yeah, dude. Keep tipping, c'mon!" I realized I was jerking myself while he was growing again. Shit! This was definitely hot as fuck. How does he only have one viewer, though? Am I the only one who's ever tipped this guy? I pulled down my zipper and let my dick pop out, and I was rock hard, and throbbing. I gripped my dick and continued stroking myself as I starting thinking about how big this guy could get. I sent another ten tokens, and I have to admit that doing so was harder than before, now that my one hand was completely occupied. The tip sound came through--another tip confirmation. "Fuuuuck!" he says, "You like this? Get ready!" He kept his arms flexed, and they started to swell again. They were throbbing, growing, pulsing, like watching a dick get hard. "Unnnghh," he moaned. His traps were rising up, and his shirt was getting tighter and tighter. His pecs were becoming clearer under the fabric, and he pushed himself away from his desk so more of his body could be seen. He lifted his shirt bottom, and FUCK! Those abs weren't neglected, for sure, as he had a clear defined six-pack. His lats were pressing out against his shirt, too. More stress lines were forming on the front of his shirt, and I could tell it was almost at its limit. He stood from his chair, and it was clear he looked more like a gym-rat now than anything else. Gone was the skinny twig of a guy that was there before. And his beautiful, sexy face remained the same. "Fuck yeah, dude. It's been so long since I've been able to do this. Feels soooo good." My dick was at its limit, and I was barely containing the ejaculation. I didn't want to cum yet, I wanted to see more! I hit the jackpot here. This guy was growing muscles on camera, essentially doing it just for me, and there were no others to watch it and steal his attention. I wanted him to grow more. I needed to see it. I kind of wanted to see how big I could get him. Me: Wanna grow more? I realized I hated having to type messages while he could just speak. "Fuck yeah, man. I wanna grow bigger and bigger!" He flexed his arms as he was saying that. FUCK!!! My dick was so hard. I decided to tease him a little. Me: How bad do you wanna grow? "Dude, you have no idea. This feeling... it's beyond anything I can describe." He was flexing his left arm and feeling it with his right hand, looking at it lovingly... or maybe it was more with lust. It was hard to tell for sure. Me: I don't know, maybe I think you're big enough already. He looked at the screen and shook his head. "You think I'm big enough?" He flexed again. "Dude, there's no way you think I'm big enough. You've tipped three times now, and I imagine you're super hard and throbbing right about now." He winked at the camera this time. "Try to tease me I'll just tease you right back." He lifted his shirt and lowered the waistband of his shorts, showing abs and a nice V line. This guy was incredible. He was right, he beat me at my own teasing game. Fuck. My dick was oozing pre. I went to the tip box and sent another tip. Ten tokens. The sound played on his end and he moaned. "OHhhhh YES!" He let his shirt drop and stood there, letting the feeling overtake him. "Unnnffff" he moaned again, and I saw him swelling. His shoulders were growing bigger, and I saw his lats pressing out further, making his arms angled outward from his body. He was developing wings. His forearms were thickening as well, taking on that appearance that tells you a dude is strong as hell. "Shirt's getting tight, bro. This might be it." I saw it, too. His shirt was clinging to his body like a second skin, and it was sexy as fuck. He brought his arms up and flexed them, hard, and his biceps bulged into baseballs, and "RIIIIP!!" splitting the sleeves wide open. "Fuck yeah, dude." He then went into a most-muscular, and more ripping was heard as his shirt split down the center of his chest. He turned around and there was a split all the way down his back, too. Oh god. FUCK. My hand was still wrapped around my dick, and when I saw him split that shirt open, my hand involuntarily squeezed. I felt myself throb, and then the sharp feeling of cum entering my shaft, and I shot cum all over my keyboard and shirt. FUCK I shot a lot, too. I looked up and he'd grown even more since I came. He was starting to look more like a bodybuilder. Maybe not quite that big, but he was getting close. So fucking sexy. He took the remains of the shirt and tore it all from his body, leaving his torso completely bare. And holy fuck. He was hot. I mean, really fucking hot. Model hot. He stood back farther and I could see his legs had grown, too. His gym shorts were wrapped rather tightly around his quads. His pecs had grown big enough that his nipples were pointing downward. His serratus muscles were even showing, now. He started flexing his muscles, starting with his biceps. He flexed one arm, then the other, running his hand over each. "You like this, man?" He continued flexing, pumping his biceps. He flexed both at the same time, grinning, and looking at each peak. He then put his hands on his hips and leaned forwards, flexing his traps, making them rise up. "Fuck, I love having traps, again. I love growing so much!" My dick was hardening up again already. He smiled at the camera, and made his pecs bounce. "Still got more tips in you?" he asked. "You haven't said anything in a while. You enjoying yourself?" Me: I'm still here. And yes, I love it. This is a show I'd never imagined getting to see. "Haha I bet." He flexed his arms again. "I bet you're glad you tipped me now. Have I done enough to earn it?" He winked. Me: Hmm I don't know. "Ohhh really?" He chuckled. "Maybe this will help." He looked down, and I followed his gaze. "Ohhh yeahhhh, feels so good to let this happen finally." His shorts were beginning to tent up. I watched as the bulge in his shorts grew and pulsed, until the tent was so big I could camp under it. He glanced back up at the camera and grinned. Me: Wtf how have you not been hard so far? "Hahaha I've gotten good at controlling it. I need to be able to put on a show, you know?" He flexed his dick and made his tent bounce. Tip. Oh god I needed to tip again. My dick was already throbbing hard again. "DING!" The sound of a tip came through again from his side. "Ohhh fuck, dude, thank you so--unghh--much!" His muscles started inflating again, and this time I could see his legs growing. His quads were clearly swelling, and I was starting to be able to see each individual muscle in them through the shorts. They were still loose at the knees. His lats were growing, too, forming bigger wings on his already wide body. "Oh fuck yeah..." he said softly. His shoulders were bulging bigger and bigger, and his arms were angling farther from his body. And damn, his arms. Growing even bigger and thicker, they were taking on the definite size of bodybuilder arms. As if he knew exactly what I was paying attention to, he flexed his right bicep, and fuck. It was approaching softball size. My dick was oozing pre and it was running down and onto my hand. "AH!" He gasped, and suddenly shot up in height about an inch or two. FUCK! And then "RIIIIP," his shorts tore up the sides, all the way to the waistband. "Fuck yeah, dude, I've never been able to get taller before, this feels soooo gooooood!" He stuck his fingers into his waistband and pulled, snapping the waistband and the shorts fell completely off, leaving him completely nude. His dick bounced out, hard as a steel pipe. "I wonder how big I can actually get?" He asked, smirking at the camera. "Oh fuck," he said again, and I watched as his dick started swelling up, too. He was already hard, and now it looked like he was getting even harder. I watched it throb and grow, getting longer and thicker. "Unnnghhh" he moaned, and I saw him reach for his cock for a second and then immediately pull his hand away. He was avoiding touching himself. His dick stopped growing, and he looked around 8 inches now. And thick. Me: Holy shit man, that is so hot. I already came once watching you, and I'm close to cumming again! He flexed a most muscular, and his muscles exploded into huge size. "Oh yeah, glad I can put on a good show for you!" My dick throbbed at his display of power. His muscles were huge, and so hot. Pre was all over my hand. It was getting everywhere, and I still had cum on my keyboard. My computer area was starting to become a sticky mess. But I didn't care. I happened to encounter this amazing, sexy, hot, beautiful... GOD of a human being by pure chance, maybe a little luck, and I wasn't going to let anything stop me from enjoying the experience. I wanted to watch him grow more. I wanted to see what more he would do. To me, this seemed like the chance of a lifetime. I put my hand on my mouse, and was about to move the cursor over to the tip button once more. I happened to look at the corner of my screen and noticed there was a little dialogue box that said "in private." My hand moved away from my mouse, while my other hand remained gripping my still throbbing dick. Why did it say this was private? I looked at the viewer count and it still said '1'. Was this why he had only 1 viewer this entire time? Did he not want other people to see him? My mind refocused, and I looked back to his video feed, and noticed he was sitting in his chair again, in front of the camera, in front of his computer. His frame took up considerably more space in the video. He was looking into the camera, a smirk on his face. He bounced his pecs a little, and flexed his arms, first the left one, then the right. His arms had gotten huge and veiny. So fucking hot. But then he spoke. "So, Mike, did you want to tip me some more?" He placed emphasis when he said my name. I don't know how he knew my name, and it made my heart skip a beat. I had no private information in my profile. I started to feel panic creeping into my body. But then I heard him start giggling, and I do mean giggle. It was a joyous laugh, one that held no malice. It was actually comforting. "Relax, dude. I knew who you were this whole time. It's why I made this private. I'm surprised you didn't recognize me, though. We're neighbors." He flexed his arms into a double bicep and flashed a big grin that allowed his teeth to sparkle. "And I was hoping you'd be willing to come over to my place. I wanna see how much fun we can have when you can give me more than just tips." And then I came. ___________________ Part 2
  21. As I slowly opened my eyes I also began to wake up. Yes, there's a double entendre there...well let me explain. He was sitting on the edge of the bed looking down at me. To say this beast of a man was huge was belittling any word that would be akin to describing his immense presence. Colossal is another word that is an injustice to him. He was the size of a God. Yep, like the ones in mythology, or the latest superhero movie. He was literally bigger than any man I had ever seen anywhere, let alone have known...and I'm all about huge muscular men. He was the size of the largest of grizzly bears and almost as furry as one. Even though he was, sort of, hunched over and sitting, I would fathom that he was at least 7...no...maybe closer to 8 feet tall. He upper body, which is what I could instantly see because his sleeveless flannel shirt was completely open , exposed a series of enormous hills and valleys of muscle that were swollen, comic book style, that seemingly took over half of the room. The weight of his chest made his nipples point toward the floor...and his nipples, Jesus; they were literally the size of a baby bottle nipple, but dark and covered with hair. My mouth began to water as I studied and began to imagine sucking on them. As I said, his plaid shirt was open, but I imagine it was for comfort more than showing off his body to me, since I would imagine that most clothes would barely fit this God. Even his pants were "mostly" loose, but I'll get into that in a moment. His arms and torso were covered in tats under his thick coat of fur and they lifted and shifted like images making love every time he moved or even breathed. I looked at his face, only for brief moments in between my raping stares of his body, to see one of the thickest, darkest beards where my tongue would get lost in its forest of density after sucking and kissing his plump thick lips and large mouth. His eyes were dark and intense as they seemingly bore a hole through me, deep into my soul. I could see that his forehead and the rest of his exposed skin had beads of moisture over him as he seemed to gleam with perspiration. As I watched one of the beads begin to trail down his neck, then to his chest and down the pec valley toward his navel, another sense...the sense of smell reminded me of the pure sexual nature of this beast. The musky smell of him was incredibly overpowering, but not offensive. He smelled like a man in every way, but not a dirty unclean man...more like a man who had just finished a huge workout and his testosterone was in overdrive. But this was not a normal man; I had to remind myself that I was not in the presence of someone normal. He was more, so much more. In fact, to retrace my thoughts a bit, as I woke up I had taken a large inhale of him even before my eyes were open and his pheromones hit me like wall which caused me to moan in an orgasmic bliss that took over my body and caused my cock to lightly shoot precum onto my belly. As of now having the realization that I was naked, spread eagle with my legs and arms tied to the bed posts. My cock was already rock hard and pulsating from the normal amount of inhaling his scent while I was unconscious. I also realized that I must have been precuming a lot since I could feel the wetness of small puddles that my pubic hair was soaking in. The fact that I loved bondage was only heightening my thrill and euphoria. My hole puckered on and off as well, begging to be violated, which like my cock was entirely uncontrollable. There was no denying that I was already under his spell with only two of my five senses being taken over. I longed to hear him speak, taste his body and feel him inside me. As I looked down further on him, he had on a green belt that was holding up blue nylon workout pants. While they were very loose around his mid-section his thighs and calves pushed the nylon fabric to a taunt unwrinkled smoothness, even showing the definition of them through the fabric. I exhaled out a hmmpf as I realized that his nylon pants looked more like spandex on him. My asshole puckered again. As I looked closer at the fabric, I noticed that the threads were beginning to tear, but not so much in a burst out of the clothes sort of way, more like they had been stretched to their limits so much that the nylon was beginning to unravel and rip. I'm sure if he would have wanted to, he could have just flexed and exploded out of them, but as with his shirt, i believe he wore these, not to impress, but to actually live in. By the looks of it, the shirt and pants might have been what he wore most all the time. As I said, I just can't imagine where a God like this would find normal clothes to wear. He was much larger than a 5XL or even an 8XL...Hell; I bet his actual size was more of a 15XL. But ALL of that wasn’t even the most amazingly and scary thing about him. Coming down his left leg, from his crotch, like a fully fed python, was a tubular mound that was at least as round as a 2 liter bottle and close to 2 feet long, possibly 20 inches. There was no mistaking that it was his cock, as it’s thick bulbous head could be seen through the fabric, but an even more amazing thing was that the nylon pants at the end had a wet spot that continued to become moistened by a flow coming from his cock head. The threads here were the most worn and I could literally see skin beneath. Following up the Drain pipe I marveled in the size of his balls that filled his crotch area, like a small animal in a bag that moved and pushed its way to get out. I imagined that the production of sperm was enough to fill a gallon jug every time he came. I took another large breath in as I gasped at the size of his cock and the thought of the amount of sperm and it hit me, like a train. My asshole clinched hard, my stomach tightened up and I screamed out in ecstasy as I convulsed in the strongest and longest orgasm of my life. A large glob of cum hit his left pec, dripping down onto his nipple and then down onto his massive thigh. The 2nd shot arched up and over my head, while the 3rd, 4th and 5th shot covered my face, “covered” being the optimal word. The last remaining ropes landed on my legs and torso. As I came, I knew that I had never had such an intense and copious amount of cum in my life and I continued to cum a strong flowing river, as my orgasm took almost a full minute before it was over. After I calmed down, even though my cock was still as rigid as a board, he began to speak and the sound of his low booming, but non-threatening voice satisfied my third sense, and possibly forth sense, as I could feel the vibrations of the words resonate inside my body. Every consonant, hit me like an inward motion of a fuck thrust penetrating me and filling me with warmth and I realized this was yet another way that he could literally make me cum if he were to speak louder. After the last orgasm, I was in need of a rest. He told me his name was Jake and, thankfully, he softly continued as he told me that he had found me floating in the river behind his house. It seemed I had crashed my car into the ravine and had been thrown from it. I tried to remember what had happened, but with 3 or 4 senses being controlled, my mind was not in much use to remember anything other then what was in front of me. Jake said he pulled me out of the river and had stripped me of my clothing so he could look at me to see if I had anything broken. When he realized that, physically I was okay; he picked me up and took me inside his house. Since he had already taken off my wet clothes, he noticed that my cock began to harden and he knew what was about to happen, so he put me in his bed. As soon as I was in bed he said that I began to flay about with my arms and legs as I began my "state of bliss" as he called it, so he tied me down, so I wouldn’t injure myself. That’s when my cock began to shoot precum and he couldn’t help but stare at me. He said he was sorry that he was getting excited watching me and that his body pours a very heavy amount of pheromones into the air, when he gets horny, which he slightly moaned and said was almost constantly. That moan, caused electrical currents racing through me and my cock began to fountain again. This time, luckily, it wasn't as huge of an orgasm as before, but nonetheless, it was the second most powerful one I had ever experienced. When I finally calmed down, he turned to look away from me and then, he looked down, as if he were almost sad and said that he knows he is an outcast and that no one would ever be able to love him. Jake said that they only use him and he hates them for it. I asked him if he could tell me more about it. He told me that he has lived alone for the past several years and that his only outlet is when they come to take him to the base to use him. I asked him why and he hesitated, but then began to tell me that about 5 years ago, he used to work at the biochemical plant over the mountain ridge and there was an accident one day. He told me he was one of their chemists and they were working on a new formula using the sun and some airborne chemicals from space and animal, most Bull, Bison and Bear hormones, to help grow plants to provide added nutrients for the world hunger population. They were crossing it with a new type of laser that breaks down the space and "3B" particles when there was a leak in the containment unit holding the particles, sunlight and hormones. He was asked to suit up and go in and fix the leak before the continued. He said that when he went into the containment unit there was an explosion and he was exposed to the combined elements, which must have changed his chemical makeup and caused him to grow to be like he was now. From the moment he awoke after the explosion, he could feel his body changing, but he wasn't sure what was going on as he was still very foggy and his vision was clouded. He got up and walked over to the exit of the containment unit but that his colleges wouldn't open the door to let him out. He said the look on their faces were of awe and fear. That's when he realized he was naked and huge. He said that almost instantly, his sight improved and he could feel the power inside him rise. Jake said that every sense, emotion and physical trait that a person could have, accelerated and gained 100 fold inside him. He became smarter as his mind and thoughts expanded. The first sense that he realized was at a pinnacle was his vision. It was so good, that he could see through things as he realized he was able to see his follow colleges though the steel wall separating them and he could see them looking at the monitor as they watched him. Jake knew his brain was at about 85% enlightenment, unlike that of only 10% of what a normal human would use, as he actually felt what his three friends were feeling. Alex was in shock, but also in bewilderment. He was envious of Jake and his new body, but he was also fearful. Johnathan was frightened as well, but he was sad and upset about what was happening to Jake. He was immediately thinking of ways to reverse what had happened. Then there was Stu, who was Jake's best friend. Stu was feeling awe and fear as the other two were, but Stu also had a huge desire for Jake. He could feel Stu getting aroused and he literally felt his own cock harden as Stu's did. Even though Stu had a wife and 2 kids, he couldn't help his attraction as he reached full erection and came in his lab pants. Jake looked up at the camera and smiled. He knew that he had caused this and he wanted the other two to feel the same. That's when he felt the power of inhuman strength course through him and knowing that he was strong, probably stronger than anyone on Earth, that he grabbed the door, pulled it off like a piece of scotch tape and flung it aside. He walked out into the same room as his colleges and noticed that even though Alex and Jonathan had begun to run away, they had to cross in front of Jake and his scent hit them. Immediately the two men fell onto the ground, writhing in orgasmic bliss as they both exploded their seed. Jake as well as his colleges had never been homosexual before, but at least for his colleges, there was no escaping Jake's pheromones and sexual dominance over them. Jake himself, hadn't turned gay, but was now Omnisexual or better yet for a lack of word, Alphasexual as there would be no one in the world that if he was attracted to, was completely under his spell and willing to be his sexually. He literally could make someone cum on command either using his mind, body, or scent. After Alex and Jonathan came, both men passed out. Because Stu was so infatuated with Jake, he walked up to the new Alpha and asked how he could please him. Jake decided to use Stu as his first lover. Over the course of the next 3 hours, Jake gave Stu numerous orgasms and was in complete control over the man. That's when he decided to change Stu as well. He now, instinctively, knew that his cum would change Stu to become more like himself, but he knew that if he were to fuck the man, that he would kill him. That's when he began, 'the process" as he called it. He would regulate the amount of cum that Stu would ingest orally causing Stu's own chemical make up to change and grow, making it possible for Jake to enter Stu and fill him with a full load to change Stu completely. After Stu's last oral intake, he was ready to receive Jake's cock. Just as they were about to begin, Jake felt a small pain in the back close to his kidneys. Then as the room began to go dark, he saw a group of military men with Hannibal rifles, which are enough to stop a rhino and he knew that they had used them on him, to tranquilize him. As his powers were still novice, the tranqs seem to do their job. When Jake awoke, he was undergoing a series of tests and over the course of several months; he was the military's guinea pig. They probed him and took samples of his blood and cum. Most of the time, they used machines to get the samples, as Jake's body and existence caused any human in the room to become his plaything. Sure he couldn't fuck them, but it was fun for Jake, when a new soldier had to go in the same room as him and they'd lose all their ability to resist him. He would make them cum over and over, until someone could pull them out of the room. When they had realized that he would cooperate, they released him from his "prison' and began testing "the process". Within a week, the military had been using his cum to grow men at their compound. In less than a month the had an army of over 1000 of Jake's "minions". The one thing that they couldn't do was control them. That was completely up to Jake. He is still larger and he was their master. When he would stay at the compound for a week at a time, he would constantly be "upgrading" his men...upgrading was the word the military used for fucking them and filling them with his growth cum. This also benefited Jake, to which his sexual appetite was always in overdrive and if it wasn't satisfied almost every day, Jake would become easily agitated and his anger would cause issues...broken equipment, broken jeeps, broken building but most importantly, broken humans. You see, when Jake wasn't physically and sexually satisfied, he was an unstoppable fucking machine, fucking and killing those that have not gone through "the process". That's when Jake realized he wanted or needed a partner, a lover, someone to care about. He hadn't seen Stu since the fateful day he changed and as far as he knew, Stu had left the area. Jake wanted someone that actually was in love with him and that he could return that love. That is why he was sitting on the edge of the bed, when I awoke, looking at me like I was his. I would be the one that would be with him and love him and he loves me. It was just that way. Plainly, he just knows things and he knows that when he saw me, that I was going to be his partner. It's just as simple as that...or so he thought. I looked up at him and I was angry. Angry to what had happened to him, but angrier that suddenly, I felt as though I was his project. I was the one that was going to make HIS life better. What about my life? Did he even care about what I wanted? Were my desires and wants in life going to even matter? Sure, I was completely smitten over him, but Hell, I had a mind too. I wasn't just going to be his love slave, his concubine. I wasn't just going to be his Cum Reliever!! FUCK THAT!! And then I began to do my best to get out of the restraints that he had me bound with. At first nothing happened and Jake just looked at me and smiled. I figured he knew that he had me, but it only made me angrier. I began to tug and pull on them and began to hear wood beginning to splinter. I surprised myself when I was able to tear off one of the bed posts with my left leg. Then the right one broke. A new feeling began to take me over; A feeling of strength. I felt a power in me rise and I felt my body expanding. Snap, the left arm tight broke off. I could feel my muscles growing and I looked at myself as my body began to transform. My cock was expanding as well, in length and girth. What once was a proud 8 incher was now already 11 inches long and about 8 inches thick. I felt my testosterone level go through the roof and SNAP, the right arm broke free. This one snapped like I had just broken a spider web, there was no effort involved. Then, Jake put his hand on my chest and held me there as I grew. At this point, even with all the strength that I was gaining and the growing size I was having, I couldn't move out from under him. Then he leaned down to me and kissed me. Electricity ran through my entire body, charging me up even more, causing me to grow even more and faster. Immediately I began to uncontrollably cum again as I had never felt so close and in sync with someone in my life. It was his bare skin against my skin and that's when I knew, I loved him. He took his hand off of me and as soon as I was free, I climbed onto him, feeling his immense cock below my ass and we embraced. My newly rock hard ass was quickly drenched in his precum as he began to shoot it out and I moaned again as I reached a third climax, covering our torsos between us. I told him, that I wished that he could fuck me, and he smiled. He said that he would, but first he asked if I would put my mouth over his cock to take in his cum. He said that he had given me my first amount when I was unconscious and he needed to complete the process so we would be able to make love after I did that. I climbed off of him so that he could take off his pants and his shirt as well. As he did, I kissed and licked his massive muscular arms and I sucked on his nipples, continuing to take in his musky scent causing me to almost lose consciousness this time as I shot another load. At this point, my growth had ebbed, but not my desire, which only increased. I began to cum without stopping. It wasn't spurt after spurt, but more of a consistent oozing pouring out of my cock hole. Still, internally, I was completely in a constant state of orgasm. Jake sensed this and he picked me up off of him so he could get his pants off and he laid me on my back, with my face under his crotch. Before removing his pants, he chuckled and said “poor defensiveness boy, as soon as you take my 2nd load of cum, you’ll be able hold your orgasms until you want to release them.” He added, “I’m going to change you and make you grow, not with just the muscle and size that you have already, but your mind will expand and your body will be do things no other human on Earth will do...not even the men at the base. I have held this back for the one who will be my partner. I know you think you will be my slave, but I do not want that. I want you as my equal. I want us to be the only God's on Earth. Even though you are now much stronger and bigger and you could take me inside you, I want you to have the complete enlightenment that I have. Yes, like the men at the base, you will become mine...a part of me will be you and all of you will be me. But, you will be different than them...you will be more...more of everything. More like me...more than just a human....more than a human...you will be a god and anyone who comes in contact with you will desire you. But you will be my mate...your life as you know it is no longer. We are omnipotent. I will control you and in turn you can control me...all of you!!! Do you wish this?” I nodded yes as I asked him, how this is even possible. That it felt like a dream or some wild fantasy of mine coming true and he laughed as he pulled down his pants showing me his massive cock as it sprung out showering me with his juice and the second it hit me, I again, orgasmed uncontrollably. By this time, I was just about dried out and only small darts of cum escaped my cock. Still the feeling was just as incredible. A steady flow of clear liquid came from the huge mushroom head, dripping down onto my lips. Then he asked if I was still dreaming. I told him....no...I pleaded for him to let me complete the change. He told me to open my mouth as wide as I could and I did. I tilted my head back and up and put my mouth over the slit in his cock head as he lowered it into my mouth. The slit was so large that my lips barely covered it with my open mouth. Then he told me to brace myself, by hold onto his ass or legs and to not let go. I did and soon I could feel heat rising up his cock shaft... ...Chapter 2 begins below
  22. pasidious

    A Growing Love

    This is the first time I'm attempting to post in this section. I'm trying to improve my writing and I hope at least a few of you enjoy this. Yes, I know it's cliche. But I honestly had this idea pop into my head as sort of a daydream a few years ago. Please let me know what you think! ______ As a first year college student, 18 years old, I never knew what to expect from living in a dorm. I mean, I'd heard stories from various sources about what it was like, but the actual thing was nothing at all what I'd expected. I'd always heard about parties and constant shenanigans within college dorms. Some of the dudes in this dorm had some fun, but it was quiet for the most part. I knew I'd have a roommate. I was expecting some dude who'd be into partying, and being boisterous, but this guy was pretty tame. He'd often spend time reading and studying, or just watching Netflix, or even playing some video games. He'd rarely make the effort to speak to me. Not that he was rude, or anything! He was always polite. He just never tried to engage in any more conversation than was necessary. I was the first of the two of us to arrive on move-in day. I entered the dorm and surveyed the space, taking note of everything. I didn't want to begin unpacking my things until my roommate arrived, because I didn't want to dominate the place before he'd even had a chance to claim any space for his own. There were two beds, of course, one on either side of the single window. The closet was to the right of the doorway, and it was rather large. I opened the closet to take a look and I decided to put my bags on the floor in there just for the moment. As I was doing so I heard the dorm door open. At first I was thinking "what the fuck?" because it was my dorm, but I quickly remembered I was sharing it with someone. I moved the closet door so I could look at who was entering the room, and there he was. I assumed, anyway, that he was my roommate. He had long curly blonde hair that reached his shoulders, light brown eyes, and even a few freckles on his face above his nose and under his eyes. He was tan, his skin a nice bronze color as though he were someone who spent a lot of time in the sun. He had to be around 5'9." He was wearing a simple white T-shirt with some RCVA logo on the front, and tan cargo shorts with a lanyard bearing the school colors hanging out of his pocket. He had black socks on that went up to just below his calves, and red Supra shoes. He had sunglasses on top of his head, which were pulling his hair back a bit farther from his face than I imagined it usually sat. He didn't notice me at first because I was kind of obscured part way inside the closet door. "Hey man." "What the?! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me." He jumped backwards a bit. "Ah sorry, I wasn't trying to do that. I was just putting some of my shit in the closet. My name's Alex." "I'm Bryan. Good to meet you, Alex, dude. I guess we're roommates, huh?" He held his hand out, and I shook it. "Looks like it! This your first year, too?" "Yeah, but I took a year off from school. I'm 19, just turned 19 two months ago." "Oh that's cool, I kind of wish I could have taken a year off." I laughed. We then began unpacking our belongings and deciding how to divide up the space. He seemed like a nice enough dude. We were about two months into our semester when it dawned on me that Bryan never had any girls or friends in general come to the dorm. He really never left, actually. He only ever went to class, or to go eat. He'd brought with him some dumbbells when he moved in, and he'd sometimes do brief little workouts with them, but he never actually went to the school gym. At least not as far as I knew. I mean, I wasn't exactly one to talk. I rarely did much social stuff, either. I'd sometimes go chill with a few friends here and there, but it wasn't often. I was more of a "follower," so to speak, in the sense that I wasn't one to initiate social events. I usually waited til someone else invited me to do something. And I was no slouch, athletically. I'd worked out throughout high school, and I continued to do so in college. I wasn't huge or anything. I had abs, a decent chest that would show through a tight enough shirt, and decent arms. I liked being able to use the school gym since I didn't have to pay for a membership. I'd try to go at least 4 times a week. Bryan's little dumbbell workouts were always fascinating, though. I'd be reading or trying to do homework, and he'd bring them out and start lifting them in various ways. He'd always start with curls. I loved watching him lift them over and over, watching his biceps contract into nice little balls in his sleeves. He'd then do tricep extensions, and he'd lay down on his back and work his chest. He wasn't big by any means, and he really didn't ever gain any weight. But watching him workout, though, was something I loved doing. I'd always get hard watching him. I never mentioned to him that I was gay, and I doubt it was something I should ever bring up. If he had something against it, it'd be a rough time living with him for the remainder of our time in this dorm. I did find him super attractive, though. His hair had gotten longer since he moved in, and it was a few inches below his shoulders now. Sometimes he'd pile it on his head. He reminded me of a surfer. He'd always finish his workout by doing some sit-ups. He'd do maybe 10, then stop for a while. Then 10 more. Then he'd stop for another while. He never took his shirt off, so I wouldn't be able to actually see his abs. I always kind of thought he did things a little weird. But at the same time, I just enjoyed watching. Discreetly, though. I'd be behind my laptop or reading a book or something so I could steal glances without him noticing. Many times when he was done I'd have to run down the hall to the bathroom to take care of myself. There were times when I'd considered asking him about his workout plan. I mean, he wasn't going to gain anything if he used the same weights all the time and did the same exact basic exercises. I was curious about what he was hoping to achieve. But, at the same time, I liked watching him. I didn't want to ruin it! It was a dilemma. If I asked him about it, maybe I could motivate him to go to the gym and start making some gains, which would be so hot. But then I'd never get to see him workout in front of me anymore. He was so confusing to me. At some point I would have to actually ask him about all of this. If nothing else, it would get him to hopefully open up some more and actually talk. My curiosity was getting the better of me one Friday afternoon. I'd finished up my last class of the day and was heading back to the dorm. The whole trek back I kept thinking about Bryan. I couldn't get him off my mind. I opened the door and he was sitting at his desk, on his computer. He looked up and said "Sup?" and I greeted him back. I went to sit at my own desk and pulled out my laptop. I had some homework to do and I figured I could at least start it. Bryan continued tapping away at his keyboard. I couldn't tell what he was working on but it didn't matter. He stood up from his desk and went to the closet. He opened the door and pulled out his dumbbells, and I couldn't take it anymore. I had to finally ask him. "Bryan, can I ask you something?" "Yeah man, what's up?" He looked at me, standing there with a dumbbell in each hand. "Well, I've noticed you working out with those dumbbells for months now, and I can't help but notice you're not exactly gaining any weight. What's your goal?" The corners of his mouth only slightly upturned. It was the faintest of smiles. But I saw it. "My goal? I don't know man, I just wanna stay in shape." "I guess that's as good a reason as any. Have you ever thought about trying to gain some size?" "You think I should try to get bigger?" Fuck. Yeah I wanted to see him get bigger. My dick hardened a bit in my shorts when he said that. "Welllll... that's entirely up to you. Strive for your own goals, don't let me decide for you." He turned his eyes upward, like he was thinking. His golden hair was down today, most of it tucked behind his ears with some strands hanging over his face, and he was wearing a blue and white plaid button-down shirt and tan cargo shorts. The guy had style, for sure. I mean, to me he could wear the fuck out of anything, really. "Well, what's your opinion, Alex? What do you think I should do?" My breath caught in my throat at that question. How do I avoid answering that one? If I'm honest, he might get the hint that I'm into him. But fuck, I'd love to see him start getting bigger and bigger. I'll have to finesse the language of my answer. "If you want to get bigger, then I think you should go for some size. I think the chicks would start lining up at the door for you if you do that." "You're a pretty fit dude, and you've never brought home any girls." Ah shit. Where do I go with that? He has to know. He said that with no expression on his face. He was looking into my eyes, and it made me uneasy. I opened my mouth to respond but I couldn't make any sound come out. He tilted his head like he was waiting for me to say something specific, but I couldn't even figure out for myself what I wanted to say. Then he smiled. "I've noticed you tend to watch me when I use these weights. And then more often than not you disappear from our dorm when I'm done. I'm guessing... you're not into girls, are you, Alex?" "I... ummm... no... I just..." He chuckled a little. "It's okay, Alex. I don't have a problem with it. I've known you watch me for a while now, and I've liked it. I like that you're into me. It's kinda hot. And I think you're pretty hot, too." I was completely shocked. I mean, this is a great outcome, but still, I never imagined he'd be gay. He looked like the kind of dude that'd never be into other dudes. I just couldn't bring myself to talk, still. I couldn't figure out what to say. "So, you think I should get bigger, huh? Would that make you more into me?" He was still standing in the same spot, still holding his dumbbells. I was finally able to find my voice. "What? No! I mean... Yes, I do think you should try to get bigger. But I'm already into you." I blushed. I could feel it. "Haha, cool. I'm glad to hear that. But, I will say, now that we've decided my goal should be to grow, I will grow. I won't just try. I will grow." He smirked at me. "How big do you want me to get?" He started curling his weights when he said that. He kept his eyes on me, his smirk turning into a kind smile. I saw his biceps contracting into balls as he lifted. It was making me hard. "Uhhhh how big do you want to be?" "No Alex. I'm asking YOU. How big do YOU want me to get?" "I guess... I don't know, dude! Like, ten minutes ago I had no idea you'd ever even consider the idea, much less that you were gay, AND into me!" He stopped curling the weights. One arm was contracted while the other stayed hanging by his side. His smile faded. "Whoa, man. I said I thought you were hot. I never said I was into you." I felt my mouth drop open as my mind just shattered. The disappointment that shot through my body was astronomical. Even my boner started to soften. "BAHAHAHAHA!" He busted out laughing, and I was really confused. I was even starting to get annoyed. "Oh you should have seen your face, Alex!" More laughing. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. "Fuck off, Bryan." "No, bruh, I'm just messing with you! Dude you were so tense I had to try to make you laugh!" His laughing faded. "I uh... guess you didn't find that funny, huh?" His face was more serious now, but still had a faint smile. His hair was a bit disheveled, more strands of curled golden locks in his face. "Wait, you were joking? So, you really are into me?" "Well, yeah, man. I think you're hot. I've been attracted to you since the day we met. It's why I never wanna go anywhere. I'd always rather just be in here, with you." He smiled again, and I felt myself blush again. He put the weights down on his bed. "You never did give me a real answer, though. How big do you want me to get?" I decided I'd give him an honest answer. "I love muscles. Nothing turns me on more. So, I guess I'm saying you should get as big as you can possibly get." "Well then. I guess I'd better get started, huh bro?" He flexed his arms, and I saw two nicely shaped biceps pop up in his sleeves. They weren't huge, or even all that big, but they were beautiful. They'd be so fucking hot if they were bigger. My dick was back at full mast, throbbing in my shorts. He smiled at me again. "You uhhh, know any good workout plans? Heh." He dropped his arms and I finally got to see him blush. "I can help you find what you need, man. It'll be easy, I think. You look like your genetics have you set to grow pretty easily and quickly." "You really think so?" He flexed his arm again, and looked at it. He ran his hand over it. FUCK my dick was so hard. "Y-yes. I do." I was trying so hard not to touch my dick. I had to look away. I looked back at my computer screen where I had some schoolwork pulled up. From behind me I heard Bryan say "I can't wait to start. I think it'll be fun to get big. For you." Did he really say that? He's really going to do this for me? I mean, it'd be so fucking hot, but he's way ahead of himself. There's no telling how much work he'll need to put in to even gain the smallest amount of weight. I only told him it looked like he'd have an easy time because I wanna motivate him. "Uhhh, Bryan, I already said you gotta do this for yourself. I can't be the reason you--" My words were interrupted by the force of my chair being spun by an unknown source. Bryan's face came into my view and I saw he had the back of my chair in his hand. "Oh no, dude. There's no better reason than to do it for you." Then he bent down and kissed me. I saw fireworks in my eyes when his lips made contact with mine. He reached a hand behind my head and began running his fingers through my hair, and kept his lips locked with mine. I closed my eyes and kissed him back. It felt amazing to finally have this amazing guy kissing me, which I never thought would ever happen. It was like a dream. He broke away, pulling his face back, and he used his other hand to sweep some of his curls out of his face and behind his ear. He was smiling, and his white teeth were shining in the light. I always thought he was hot, but now I'm finally seeing he's just plain beautiful. He was angelic. "I'm gonna grow for you, Alex. You wait and see." I gasped as I felt my dick throb. Bryan giggled a little, and reached down and grabbed my crotch. FUCK. "Wow, you're really fucking hard!" "Fuck, Bryan! What do you expect?" I closed my eyes and my head went back as he squeezed my cock through my shorts. "Unnnghh" I moaned a little. "Wow. You're gonna be fun to play with. But we can't yet. Not just yet." Was he really going to tease me like this?! "Bryan, you can't tease me like that! It's cruel!" He continued squeezing me through my shorts. He even started to jerk me off a little. "Oh, I can jerk you off if I want. But that's the most we can do for now." He winked at me. God he was so hot. "You wanna cum?" I nodded rapidly. The pressure I was feeling was insane. I wanted him so bad. He started jerking me off with more speed and energy, and he was squeezing every few seconds. "Ohhhh..." I moaned again. And then he removed his hand. He unbuttoned my shorts and pulled the zipper down, and then tugged my boxers down with my shorts. All 7 inches of my dick popped out, veiny and hard as steel. He mouthed the word 'wow' when he saw it. I felt some pride that he was impressed, but then I was wracked with jolts of pleasure when he grabbed me again, this time skin to skin in his hand. Oh it felt so good. He began jerking again, and squeezing. He was squeezing hard, too, making me writhe in my chair. He increased his speed, and continued squeezing. His hand was becoming a blur, and my mind was in a constant state of explosion. I couldn't even see clearly anymore, the pleasure was too great. The pressure at the base of my dick was growing, and soon I could feel the sharpness of an imminent ejaculation. I was gonna cum, and I was gonna cum hard. He squeezed hard once more, and that was it. "OH GOD I'M CUMMING!" He didn't stop jerking. He kept going, and I felt the amazing sensation of cum leaving my balls and entering my dick and surging to the tip. The first blast was a big one, hot and thick, and shot across the room and hit the window! And then the next one, another big one. It hit the wall right next to the window. I could hear the splatters as they made impact. And then another shot, this one not as strong but still big, hitting the floor. A few more spurts were launched, leaving a mess on the carpet, until there was only a little bit dribbling from the tip and onto Bryan's hand. He brought his hand up and licked it, cleaning up all of my cum from his hand. He chuckled a little. "You taste good, brah. Can't wait to do that when I'm bigger." I sat there, my head tilted back, breathing heavily. My chest was rising up and down with each breath. My dick was still feeling the residual effects of the massive explosion I'd just experienced, still exposed to the air as it slowly softened. I looked up and noticed Bryan was still standing there, looking down at me with a smile on his face. He was just standing there with his arms at his sides. I wondered if he was even hard. He gave no indication that he wanted to cum, too. I suddenly felt self-conscious, and sat up and started tucking myself back into my shorts. Bryan just chuckled. "What?" I asked. "Nothing. I just like looking at you." He crossed his arms. "I'm gonna run down and get something to eat, dude. You want anything?" "Ah, no thanks. I'm just gonna chill out for a bit. You really wore me out..." I slightly laughed. "I guess while you're gone I'll try to look up a good beginner's workout plan. Should be plenty to find on the internet." "Dude, that'd be awesome. I can't wait to start." He winked at me. "I'll be back in a bit." He put on his shoes and walked to the door, opened it, and only stopped ever so briefly to look back at me and grin before exiting and shutting the door. 'What the hell just happened?' I wondered to myself. It was fucking great! I just couldn't believe it. I was so very much looking forward to spending more time with Bryan. I wanted to lay in bed with him, and hold him. I wanted to kiss him, with him kissing me back, arms around each other. I wanted our tongues to dance around together while we feel each other all over, our hands exploring everywhere. I wanted to run my hands through his beautiful hair and look into his beautiful eyes. I also wanted to see him flex. Fuck, muscles get me so horny. I mean, I built some of my own, sure, but it wasn't as great as seeing another dude's muscles. I liked to flex for myself. I liked looking into the mirror and flexing my arms, watching my peaks rise into baseballs. I liked flexing and bouncing my pecs, and tensing my abs. I liked to run my hands over them, feeling each brick. I especially liked wearing a tight T-shirt and seeing it wrapped around my torso, with my pecs pushing out and the sleeves completely filled with my arms. I'd get hard appreciating my own body, but nothing compared to seeing another dude flex. That made me harder than anything else. Just watching Bryan workout made me hard as fuck. I wanted to see him flex every muscle he could flex. I wanted him to start with his arms, and flex into a double bicep pose. I wanted to put my hands on each one, and squeeze. Oh fuck that'd be hot. I wanted to see his abs tense up. I wanted to run my fingers between each brick. I wanted to see his quads and his calves bulging. I wanted to run my hands all over his body. Fuck. I was so curious about how he was so confident he'd start gaining muscle. I was excited for it to happen. I couldn't wait to see him come back to the dorm each day after a workout, seeing him all pumped. I wanted him to get bigger and bigger. I was getting hard again thinking about all of this. I decided I should just actually look up some workout plans for him. I should have that done before he gets back. Going to the internet, there was no shortage of possible plans. Most are pretty similar for beginners. I picked one that looked promising for his build. He wasn't too far off from my own build, especially before I started getting bigger, so I picked a plan that was very similar to the one I'd started with. I put it together so it would fit on as few pieces of paper as possible, and kept it organized so it was easy to understand. I printed it out and placed it on his desk. And then I went back to working on the homework I'd tried to start earlier. It was probably about an hour later that Bryan made it back. I got distracted from my homework and wound up catching up on my current Netflix binge. I was laying in bed with my laptop watching Raymond Reddington being a badass when I heard the door open. I glanced toward the door and saw Bryan walk in and shut the door softly behind him. He had his sunglasses on his face still, but once he shut the door he lifted them up so they sat on his head. He looked at me and smiled that smile. "Sup?" He greeted me. He walked to the edge of his own bed and sat down. I smiled back at him, blushing uncontrollably. He was so beautiful. The sun was getting low in the sky, but was still shining enough light into the room that seemed to make him glow. "I got distracted when I was trying to do some homework. Just watching The Blacklist. Oh and I was able to find a workout plan for you. I printed it out and put it on your desk." My laptop continued streaming Netflix. "That's so cool man, I can't wait to get started on growing. Are you excited to see it happen?" Fuck! He had a knack for asking questions that instantly made me start getting hard. "Yeah man, I wanna see you grow. I wanna see you get big and outgrow your clothes." I tried to focus on Netflix so my dick wouldn't harden any further. "You want me to outgrow my clothes?" It was an innocent question; a response to my response. And yet, just the way he asked it made me harden further. I swallowed, and yet my throat was starting to feel dry. I looked at his face, and he had this quizzical look. "Uh, yeah. I want your gains to be enough that you need new clothes. It's a positive thing." "What about if I'm still wearing them? Is that something you'd like? You wanna see me flex an arm and make the sleeve rip?" Fuck, he knew which buttons to press. My dick was fully hard now. And throbbing. "Umm yes, to be honest I'd find that super hot." He grinned. "Cool." I don't know how he was so nonchalant about this whole thing. It made him that much hotter. But then he stood up from his own bed, took his sunglasses off and put them on his desk, and walked right over to mine. Several locks of his hair fell out of place, falling into his face, without the sunglasses holding them where they were. He was still wearing what he was before. He didn't even say anything, he just lay himself down right next to me in my bed and started watching Netflix with me. My face was so red, I could feel it. But it was awesome. I scooted over a bit so he had more room, and he scooted with me. He had his left arm behind his head, and took his right hand and grabbed for my left hand. I felt his fingers entwine with mine, and I felt like I was in heaven. He turned his head and looked at my face, and I turned to look at his. He smiled again, and moved his face closer and kissed me lightly. I hummed softly when his lips touched mine, and I felt my dick throb. He kissed me again, and I felt his hand squeeze mine. He moved his arm from behind his head and put his hand on my chest. Our lips remained locked, and the sounds from my laptop were fading so far into the background that I didn't even hear them anymore. His tongue entered my mouth, and started dancing with my own. I engaged his tongue, dancing with it, fighting for dominance. He took my left hand and brought it to his crotch, and placed my hand on his dick. I felt him through his shorts, and wow. He was hard. And getting harder. I felt him swelling through the fabric, and it was incredible. I wrapped my fingers around his dick as well as I could, and squeezed. I felt him gasp through my lips while we continued to kiss. He was so thick! His dick felt at least as big as mine, maybe bigger. I squeezed him again, and fuck. His dick seemed like it was still growing and getting harder. I wasn't sure, but with his lips on mine, it sort of felt like he smiled. He broke our kiss, and our noses touched. He whispered "It's finally time for us to play." He reached over and grabbed the bottom of my shirt and started pulling it up. I sat up a bit and let him remove my shirt, and he tossed it to the floor. He mouthed 'Wow' again when he looked at my body. My abs and chest were on full display, and I had to admit, I looked pretty fit. I kicked my laptop off to the side so it wasn't in the way, and I grabbed at the bottom of his shirt. He stopped my hands, though, and I looked at him, confused. "No, not yet. My shirt will come off soon enough." He grinned, and it was almost an evil grin. He took my hand and placed it on his crotch again, and his dick was... wow. He was so hard, and he felt so big. He had to be bigger than me down there. He then reached down to his shorts and undid the button and pulled down the zipper. His dick popped right out, and FUCK. It was gorgeous. It was straight as a steel rod, and thick, covered with veins. I also noticed he wasn't wearing any boxers or anything. But I'd say he was bigger than me, he had to be close to 8 inches. It was my turn to say wow. He turned my head towards his face and kissed me again. I grabbed his dick and wrapped my fingers around it, and squeezed. He gasped, and continued kissing me. But then something insanely hot happened. I felt his dick throb, and then my fingers were forced to spread apart. I broke away from his kiss to look down, and his dick had grown even bigger. I heard him snicker. "It's time for some fun," he said. "Wha--?" I couldn't even finish saying the word as his dick throbbed and grew again in my hand. Holy fuck, what was happening? My own dick was so hard and leaking pre. I could feel the wetness in my shorts. "Come on, brah, make me cum." I squeezed his dick, and he moaned. I started jerking him off, sliding my hand up and down his shaft. I moved my face to his and kissed him again, shoving my tongue into his mouth. I was so turned on by all of this and was feeling a little aggressive. I wanted to make him cum, especially after he made me cum harder than I'd ever cum before. He moaned again, with my mouth on his. His lips tasted so good. I squeezed his dick again, and it throbbed hard. Again, it grew in my grasp, spreading my fingers farther apart. "Ah!" he gasped again, and I even moaned some. Feeling his dick pulse and grow was one of the hottest things I've ever experienced. I started jerking him faster. He moaned again, and I knew what I had to do. I broke our kissing, and sat up. He looked up at me, at first with disappointment, and then with intense desire. He also almost looked like he was in pain. "I need to cum, dude! I'm so hard!" "You will... ohhh you will," I replied. I maneuvered myself so my face was closer to his dick. I grabbed it with my hand and squeezed it, then released and brought my lips over the head. Bryan moaned pretty loudly. Just with his head in my mouth, I started licking at the tip. I ran my tongue all over it, circling it. He started to writhe on the bed. I took some more of him into my mouth, and sucked. I sucked him like it was a lollipop, and allowed my tongue to roam all over. He was moaning almost nonstop now, sighing, and breathing hard. I could tell he was really enjoying this, and I wanted him to explode. Then he grunted, and I felt my mouth forced open wider as his dick grew even more. Holy shit. I really hit the jackpot with Bryan, because I'm sure any gay dude out there would kill for a chance to suck a dick that's literally growing bigger and bigger. And not just getting hard. I brought my left hand to his dick and grabbed it at its base and started to jerk him in time with my sucking. He was too big now now matter how much I tried to fit into my throat. Another throb, and my lips were forced wider again. FUCK! How big was his dick gonna get?! "OHHHHHNNNGGGGGG!" He was moaning so loud now, nonstop. "FUUUUUUCK! I'M GONNA CUM! ALEX MAKE ME CUM!" I squeezed him hard with my hand, and sucked hard. He was bucking his hips, fucking my mouth. Another pulse, and his cock grew yet again. My mouth couldn't widen any more. My throat kept swallowing, trying to take in as much of him as possible. I sucked harder than I'd imagined I could, and I used my right hand to start squeezing his hamstrings. "I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING ALEX!" And he was. I felt his dick throb, and it suddenly felt so hot in my mouth. I then felt the first shot hit the back of my throat. FUCK it was powerful, like a jet. "AHH!" He yelled. Then another hard and powerful blast, long and thick. I kept swallowing as each shot erupted, another, and another. Each one was just as powerful as the last, until the 6th shot. It was slightly less forceful, and then the next one was even less. Eventually I'd sucked him dry, and could no longer taste the salty sweetness. I pulled my face away from his crotch and let his dick pop out of my mouth, and holy SHIT. He had to be at least 12 inches long. And still fucking hard! He wasn't even softening! He lay there, panting, unmoving. His eyes were closed but he had that evil grin on his face, and his head tilted back slightly. His hands were gripping the blanket on the bed hard enough that his knuckles were turning white. I saw cords and tendons of his forearms standing out, he was gripping it so hard. "Thanks, Alex. That was the best orgasm I've ever had, brah." "Dude, you are unreal. How are you still hard?" He stayed how he was, still panting, still grinning. I thought for a moment that he didn't even hear me. But then he opened his eyes and looked directly into mine. "You think I'm unreal?" His dick was quivering, and still hard as ever. I was letting my eyes roam over his entire form, and he was so fucking hot. That hair of his was sexy as hell, too. I'd never met a guy whose hair made this much of a difference, but Bryan's surfer hair made me so hot for him. Well... MORE hot for him. He relaxed his hands and released his grip on the blanket, but his forearms maintained their tensed appearance, now with veins protruding from the skin. He started to sit up and put his weight on his elbows. "Yeah... you're unreal. How... just... how did you get your dick to grow like that?!" "Hmph." He grunted out a short laugh. "It's just the beginning, bro." He sat up all the way and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed my hands and pulled me to his side so we were sitting together. He turned his face to mine and kissed me passionately, and then stood up. His huge dick was still sticking out from his open fly of his shorts, which still clung to his hips. What a sight to behold! "What's beginning?" I asked him. He turned and faced me as I sat in front of him. He tilted his head a bit to the side and was looking into my eyes. He wasn't smiling anymore. His face was intense, but otherwise neutral. But then he spoke. "I'm sorry you went to the trouble of finding me a workout plan." "What... Bryan? What do you mean?" "I just wanted this to be a bigger surprise, is all. I wasn't lying when I said I was gonna--unghh--grow." He grunted, and I saw his dick grow about another inch longer, and even thicker. "Holy fuck..." was all I managed to say before the real surprise started. I started to hear a faint stretching noise, and the smile returned to his face. I saw movement, and I noticed his shoulders were spreading. I blinked a few times, and yes, they were broadening, pulling his button-down tighter across his chest. But they weren't just getting wider, I could see them swelling under the fabric, too, becoming rounder and more bulbous. And then I saw his neck starting to thicken, with his traps beginning to rise up. "Dude, this feels so good." The stretching noise was getting louder. He brought his arms up, and his forearms were starting to thicken as well. "This is what you--ahhh--wanted, right?" His chest bulged out when he said that, pushing his shirt out and making the cloth pull at the buttons. His forearms were still getting thicker, but he pulled back his sleeve on his right arm and flexed his bicep. And holy fuck. It swelled into a tennis ball, bigger than it was before. He took his right arm and pulled back the sleeve on his left arm and flexed both at once. "You like this, Alex? I want you to enjoy the show." He winked at me, those beautiful blonde curls bouncing as he moved his head. My dick was throbbing hard. So fucking hard I wish MINE would grow bigger just so it could get harder. "Unnghghh" He groaned, and his arms bulged bigger. They were baseballs now. He started pumping his arms, flexing and unflexing. Each time he flexed again, they were slightly bigger. "Fuck, this feels so good. Come on, growwwwww!" And then I noticed his legs. His calves had begun to swell, forming bulges on his lower legs. They were flexing and unflexing, like his arms, but this seemed involuntary. Each time they flexed they'd grow some more. Soon they were baseballs, too, and still swelling. His dick was starting to leak precum, drooling onto the floor. FUCK. Oh my GOD this was so hot. His arms didn't stop growing, they were starting to get to softball size, right in time with his calves. But then I heard some creaking noise, and noticed his shorts were tight in the thighs. They were skin tight. The material of his shorts was so tight it was straining and squeaking a little, and I couldn't believe how thick his legs had gotten. "Oh fuck." I whispered. My dick felt like it was going to explode. "Yeah, fuck yeah, this is what you like, right? You wanted this to happen, so watch closely." He said it softly, but with a strong amount of authority. He lowered his arms and flexed his quads, hard. And then RIIIIIIP! Both legs of his shorts ripped wide open on the sides, starting in the middle and moving in both directions. The seams split wide open. "FUCK! OH FUCK!!" I wasn't even touching myself and my cock exploded, shooting cum all into my shorts. It was everywhere. I wasn't even touching myself!! The wet spot forming was unmistakable, as Bryan once again made me cum harder than ever before. "OHHHNGGG" I kept shooting into my shorts, and I noticed Bryan had an amused look on his face. My jaw was wide open as I looked into his face. He looked kind of proud of himself. "Dude. I'm not even done yet," Bryan said in a low voice. His own dick was still drooling onto the carpet, forming a small puddle. FUCK his dick looked hot. My dick exhausted itself, but as soon as I looked back up at Bryan, he took his hands and tucked his fingers under the waist. He began pulling the waist of the shorts in opposite directions, his arms bulging into striations and clear tendons, until RIIIIP, the remains of his shorts tore apart, leaving his lower body completely bare. My dick immediately started getting hard again. His quads had gotten huge, and each head of the muscle was visible. His legs were touching together, and he widened his stance a bit. They were still fucking swelling, too. Holy shit. I scanned up his body and noticed something else. His lats were growing. His body was taking on that sexy V shape so many dudes wish they had. And his shirt was getting tight, too. His shirt was starting to pull at the buttons, causing gaps down the front. More stretching noises began emanating from his body as his shoulders widened and grew some more, and his lats continued swelling under the fabric. The shirt was becoming skin tight, and the buttons were struggling. "I think it's the perfect time, don't you?" he asked. My mouth was still hanging open, and it wasn't until it registered within my brain that he'd asked a question that I realized how dry my mouth had become. I had to swallow a couple of times before I could answer him. "Wha... time for what?" He chuckled, and got that evil grin. "Time to make some sleeves rip, BRAH!" My dick throbbed hard in my shorts as I realized what was about to happen. And that surfer persona he had was so fucking sexy. I glanced at his arms and wow, they had gotten really thick. The sleeves were skin tight around his upper arms now, and perfectly midway so the edges were right on the highest points of his biceps. He slowly brought his arms up, raising them carefully, until they were straight out from his body and parallel to the floor. He clenched his hands into fists, and then immediately brought his arms into a mind-boggling double-bicep pose. His arms exploded with size, easily surpassing softballs, and the sleeves shredded all the way past his shoulders. "AH FUCK!" I shouted as my balls purged themselves of cum once more, adding to the mess already in my shorts. "Ahh! AHH!" I yelled with each spurt. FUCK! My balls had an endless supply of cum for this dude! I never took my eyes off him, though. He laughed at me, I assume for blowing yet another load. Then he looked like he was taking a deep breath, but I realized his pecs were swelling again, and his lats were still growing. "Fuuuck yeah, Alex. Here we go." He flexed his pecs, and POP POP POP his top three buttons snapped off, flying across the room in different directions. The cloth separated and I could see his enormous chest, huge and defined with amazing striations. Then another POP as the next button popped off. "Fuck waiting!" He grabbed his shirt and ripped it apart, allowing it to fall to the floor in two halves. HOLY FUCK. "Ohhhhhwwwahhh" I tried to say the words but that garbled groan was all I managed to say. He was a god. Standing before me was an actual god. His chest was huge, his abs had become an 8 pack of super defined and pronounced perfectly rectangular bricks, and his lats made him look like he had wings. There were his legs; tree trunks bigger than my waist and calves bigger than melons. And then of course there was his huge dick, still standing hard as a fucking steel rod and leaking pre onto an ever increasing puddle on the carpet. And of course, my favorite muscles, his arms. They were gigantic. Covered in veins, his arms were huge and sexy as fuck. He had stopped growing at this point. My shorts were all wet and sticky, my dick was throbbing hard again, and my mouth was hanging open, practically drooling, as I stared at the specimen before me. I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or hallucinating, but I was becoming convinced that none of this was real. He kept that grin on his face, and started flexing his huge arms, gazing at them lovingly. He would run his fingers over their peaks, prodding them. And then he looked directly at me, into my eyes. "Told ya I was gonna grow for you. How into me are you now?" He chuckled with that question. He grabbed a hair tie from his dresser and pulled his locks up onto his head, and in raising his arms to do so, he made sure to flex his arms, making me drool. He tied it so it sat there like a pile of curly golden hair. "Well?" He asked. I felt paralyzed. I'd never in my wildest fantasies imagined this type of scenario, and yet it was a dream come true. "Hmmm, I'm gonna go ahead and say: you like. The drool hanging from your mouth is all I need for confirmation," he laughed. He flexed his pecs, and ran his fingers over them. He stepped toward me, and grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. FUCK! He'd gotten taller, too. He was shorter than me, and now he was at least 3 inches taller. "Let me make you more comfortable, dude." He put his hand into the waistband of my shorts and ripped them right off. My dick sprang up, hard as ever. After cumming so much today, I couldn't believe it was so hard. "That better? No more soggy shorts." I nodded in agreement. He placed his hands on both sides of my face and kissed me. "Relax dude! You're too tense!" He took my hand and placed it on his chest. Holy shit! His chest was hard as steel. So warm, and just so goddamn hard. And then he guided my hand to his bicep. He flexed it, and it bulged up huge. FUCK! His arm was a fucking mountain! "Oh my god Bryan," I finally managed to say. "You're fucking huge. Just... How? How?!" My dick ached. "My body can grow from the right sexual stimulation, as long as it's from the right person. The day I met you, I knew you were the right dude, too. I never knew how to bring any of this up, or even if you were gay, but when you finally said something after all this time, I decided to have some fun with it." He smiled. My hand remained on his bicep, and I didn't wanna move it. The warm stone under my hand was amazing to touch. I took my other hand and ran it over his abs. I felt him shudder as I did so. His dick was still rock hard, standing out, drooling pre. I reached down and grabbed it. "Ohhhhhnnnngyeah" he moaned. Then he grabbed my dick with his strong hand. His forearm rippled with muscle. I damn near came again. What he said next, though, made me want to pass out. "We haven't even had sex yet, and I've still got some growin' to do, bruh." Part 2
  23. dw2098lj

    The Car Salesman - Chapter 2

    Chapter 2 With every step and every breath in of the cold winter air I felt as if a spell was lifting. My attraction to Karl and fixation on his huge muscles and enormous cock was being replaced with sheer disbelief at what had just happened. Slowly my thoughts were becoming my own again as my mind raced through the events of the last couple of hours. How had I as a straight man, who’d never had any interest in other men, let myself be used by that gym-rat, the epitome of everything I despised? As I turned the key in the front door of my house and heard the lock click open I came to a sudden realisation. I had been drugged. It was the only explanation I could think of to explain the bizarre events of today. Somehow Karl had fed me some illegal substance which had an abnormal and extreme effect on me. But how had he done it? I’d not had anything to eat or drink whilst I was there and to be honest the effects had been almost immediate, pretty much from the start of our encounter. It was then, sat in the dark on the sofa in my living room, that I remembered the strange but seductive scent coming off Karl that I’d noticed as soon as I met him. Still dazed from the afternoon, I could almost hear the cogs of my brains turning over, trying to connect the dots. Finally, something clicked and I remembered the strange looking bottle, “Alpha Scent”, which I’d glimpsed in Karl’s desk. Yes, that was it! Clearly this scent had some pheromones or something in it that caused extreme desire in whoever smelt it. Ridiculous as it sounded, it was the only possible explanation I could come up with. The longer I sat there on the sofa, the more my confusion and embarrassment were replaced with anger. Luckily for me, my wife wasn’t due home from work for 2 hours – I needed a plan. *** Two days later I was sat outside Karl’s office, waiting to pick up my new car. My heart was racing at the plan I’d concocted but I was confident that it would work, having spent several hours over the last few days perfecting it. A few minutes after I arrived, Karl’s office door opened and an attractive woman in her early 40s left. I could tell from her harassed look and the fact that her blouse wasn’t buttoned up correctly that she had just been subjected to the “Karl” treatment. The huge man himself appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, covered in a sheen of sweat from his most recent workout. “Give me two minutes Joe,” he called, grabbing a towel from behind the door and heading down the corridor to where I guessed the showers were. I nodded in reply, glad that Karl clearly had a strict routine between clients, something that my plan relied on. As soon as the shower room door had clicked shut I leapt up, pleased that there were no other staff members around (for obvious reasons Karl’s office was away from everyone else). I opened the door to Karl’s office before sneaking in and shutting the door quietly behind me. I hurried over to his desk, not knowing how literal Karl’s “two minutes” would be, and opened the top draw. I picked up the strange bottle, turning it over to read the label on the back: “Instructions: Use 2 sprays for instant results lasting 24 hours. Re-apply after showering”. There was no mention of what the “instant results” were but I could have a good guess. Conscious of the time, I pulled two bottles out of my pocket, one an empty aftershave bottle, the other filled with water that I’d dyed purple to match the fluid in the “Alpha Scent” bottle. I quickly poured the contents of the “Alpha Scent” into my empty aftershave bottle which I put safely in my pocket. I then substituted it with the dyed water from my other bottle before screwing the top back on and replacing the strange bottle in Karl’s top drawer. The colour wasn’t an exact match so I’d have to hope Karl wouldn’t pay too much attention to it. It was then I noticed something. In my rush to get into his office and steal his treasured secret, I hadn’t noticed that Karl’s masculine scent still filled the room, even though he was no longer there. I found myself inhaling deeply, yet again allowing his aroma to fill my head. Images of his full, thick chest and bulging veiny biceps immediately flashed across my mind. I started to imagine the feeling of his big manly cock deep in my tight ass, to feel him plough me with all his strength and power. All thoughts of my carefully worked out plan left my head as I noticed that my cock was rock hard and throbbing. I unbuttoned my jeans, letting them fall to the floor before pushing down my tight boxer briefs, letting out my aching cock. I wrapped my hand around it, jerking slowly as I thought about running my hands over his swollen chest and ripped abs. I was excited to think that Karl would be back at any second and I wanted to be ready to please him. I found myself getting into position on his desk as I had the other day, face down, ass ready for him to slide his cock in as soon as he came through the door. Suddenly the blinds rattled and a gust of wind blew in through the open window. It hit me straight in the face, clearing my head and allowing just a second of rational thought. That was all I needed – I immediately jumped off Karl’s desk, pulled up my boxers and jeans and ran out the door, all without taking another breath. My heart was racing as I settled myself in the chair outside Karl’s office just as the door to the shower room opened down the corridor. Karl looked pristine yet again, freshly showered and in clean smart clothes, a confident smile on his face. Thankfully the feelings of lust had past as quickly as they’d started now that I was out of the confined environment of Karl’s office and I was able to focus once again. “Right Joe, let me just get your keys and we’ll have you sorted in no time,” Karl said as he passed me, entering the office I’d only seconds ago vacated myself. I was sure I’d left everything as it should be but still my heart was racing. I suspected that Karl would be re-applying the “Alpha Scent” after his shower but would he notice straight away the swap I’d made? My entire plan hinged on this moment. A minute later Karl came out, his confident smirk plastered to his face as usual, the keys to my new car in one hand, the final agreement in the other. “Let’s go out to your car then Joe,” Karl said, with no acknowledgement of the events of the other day but more importantly, no evidence that he’d noticed the swap at all. “Sure thing Karl,” I said, trying to sound more relaxed than I felt. As I followed behind, I tentatively inhaled, but there was nothing, no trace of the alluring odour and my head remained clear. When we’d reached the car, Karl showed me around the outside again before we got in. Once inside, I was aware yet again how much space Karl occupied but it didn’t seem to affect me as it had done the other day. “Well Joe, here’s the key… I just need one more signature from you,” Karl said, handing me the final agreement. As I signed, I noticed that Karl had his arm up on the window again and was casually flexing his biceps as he looked across at me. I smiled as I handed the agreement back to him. “Right Karl, I’ll be going then if that’s everything,” I said confidently. “Oh yeah, erm, sure Joe,” clearly surprised by my lack of interest in his flexing muscles, “unless you want to go for round two,” he added, attempting a deep seductive voice which just sounded hollow to me without the effects of the “Alpha Scent”. He rested one of his giant hands on the equally giant bulge in his trousers but even this didn’t affect me. “No thank Karl,” I said, still trying to stay at ease, “I’ll be going now. Thanks for your help.” “Erm…ah…well, no problem, Joe,” Karl said as he prised himself out of the car, clearly confused at my resistance. “See you around Karl,” I said through the open window as I started to pull away. As I left the forecourt I smiled as I caught sight of the giant muscle man in my rear-view mirror, a look of intense confusion on his face. Little did he know it was only just beginning. *** Twenty minutes later I was standing in my bedroom at home, the bottle of aftershave, now containing the “Alpha Scent” in my hand. I hesitated, torn between sensibility and the desire to try it on myself before my wife got home and see what effect it had on her. We’d been trying to think of ways to liven up our sex life and I hoped this would be the answer, causing her to experience the same indescribable lust for me that I’d experienced for Karl. But then again, I didn’t really know what the true effects of this spray were and I suspected it definitely wasn’t legal. In the end my desire and curiosity won out and before I knew what I was doing I’d squirted two sprays on my neck. The pure “Alpha Scent” smelt great, kind of woody but other than that there was no noticeable change in me. I started to feel a bit stupid as I stood there and suspected that I had just gone to extreme lengths to steel what was essentially just a bottle of aftershave. At that moment though a strange warm feeling started spreading from my neck, where I had sprayed the “Alpha Scent”, down into my chest. It felt as though my shoulders and chest were pulsing with energy, the warm feeling spreading out into my arms too. Suddenly, I noticed that my normally loose-fitting blue t-shirt felt a bit tight around my chest and I looked down to see that my chest was actually starting to swell. “Fuck, I’m growing,” I said out loud, unable to help myself. I watched and felt as my biceps started to expand too, pulsing as they got bigger, huge veins popping up under the skin. My arms felt like they were surging with power and soon they were straining the sleeves of my small top. Without even thinking, almost on instinct, I brought both arms up into a double biceps, flexing hard the muscles which until now had been tiny and pathetic. I heard the loud RIP as both sleeves split down the seam, bursting open to allow my biceps and triceps to continue growing. “This feels fucking amazing,” I called out, my voice noticeably deeper and more masculine, as I continued to flex and pump my biceps. The warm feeling had now reached my groin and quads and the most amazing sensation hit me, like I was having a continuous orgasm. Waves of pleasure flooded through my veins as I looked down to see that the bulge in my jeans was swelling slowly, pushing out as I felt my cock grow. My expanding quads were quickly filling out my jeans too and I could hear the material creaking as it struggled to contain them. My attention was then pulled back to my still swelling chest, which was now way too big for the size ‘S’ T shirt. My back too was expanding, pulling the shirt even tighter and stopping me from being able to breathe properly. “GGGRRRRRRRRRR,” I roared as I reached up to the neck of the t shirt, pulling it straight down and hearing the fabric tear as I ripped it off in one go. “FUCK, I’m a beast,” I screamed, looking down at my exposed torso, as I threw the shredded top on the floor. Beneath my swollen pecs I could see the little bit of body fat I had disappearing, exposing tight ripped 8-pack abs which pushed up like cobble stones. I ran one of my hands down them, enjoying the feeling of ripped muscle under my fingers. Beneath my tiny, tight waist, my quads were still growing, feeling so tight in my jeans that I knew that I needed to get them off soon. No sooner had I thought this I heard another rip and realised it was too late. My huge quads had torn the fabric on either side of my jeans and I could see the exposed muscle underneath. I flexed each of my humungous quads in turn, extending the tear on either side with colossal grunts. I then reached down, grabbing the waist band with my two hands and pulling down to complete the job, ripping my jeans off and throwing them on the floor. “I’m so STRONG,” I roared, unable to hold back as I started flexing, the growth now slowing and the warm feeling starting to subside. I looked at myself in the mirror on the wall – I now had the body of a serious weight-lifter, not quite as big as Karl, but still pretty huge. My face too looked more masculine, chiselled, with a sharp jaw-line with a light dusting of stubble. My torso had a covering of dark, manly hair that had sprung up in the last two minutes on my previously hairless body. The bulge in my boxers was verging on obscene as my rock hard cock tented the fabric. I quickly pulled off my boxers, feeling as my much bigger cock slapped up against my abs. “FUCK,” I moaned, as I looked down at my throbbing cock which was at least 8” long, about 2” longer and much thicker than before my growth spurt. A steady stream of pre was leaking out as I continued to flex in front of the mirror, appreciating my new muscle body. I ran my hands over my pumped chest, amazed at the weight of my pecs and noticing the deep defined valley that ran between them. I flexed each bicep in turn, trying to wrap the other hand round each mound of marble-like muscle to no avail. The huge veins which had popped up during my growth were still there and snaked like a road map down my bulging biceps and forearms. Still flexing, I wrapped one hand around my thick cock and started jerking, feeling the pleasure quickly rising in me. “MMMM, you’re a beast Joe,” I moaned to myself, so turned on by my own muscles. I couldn’t stop running my other hand over my torso as I jerked, marvelling in the feel of the solid muscles now strapped onto my previously weedy frame. Only minutes ago I’d been a tiny 33yo, with a bit of a beer-gut. Now I was a total alpha muscle stud. This thought drove me on closer to climax as I let out low, deep moans and grunts. I jerked my cock faster, still flexing as I watched in the mirror. “Oh fuck,” I moaned, “I’m gonna fucking shoot…”. I worked myself up more and more, relishing the new length and girth of my cock and the sticky pre-leaking from it. Huge grunts escaped my mouth as my massive chest heaved with each breath drawn in. Within seconds I felt my full, aching balls tighten and I had nearly collapsed to the floor in the most intense orgasm of my life, surpassing even when I’d been with Karl the other day. It was like my whole body exploded in pleasure, each of my newly engorged muscles flooding with an indescribable sensation. “AAHHHHHHHH,” I screamed in ecstasy as rivers of warm cum erupted from my huge cock, splashing over the mirror and floor, the final few spurts dribbling down my huge ripped quads. I gazed at the sight in the mirror – I was amazed at the huge hunk of muscle standing in front of me, his colossal chest heaving over tight ripped abs and an enormous thick cock still leaking cum onto the floor. I couldn’t believe this muscle stud was me. I ran my hands up over my cobbled abs and thick chest, feeling sweat and cum mingling together over the rock solid muscle underneath, before falling backwards onto the bed in blissful exhaustion.
  24. Home of the Gods Part Eight-Finale by F_R_Eaky Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13486-home-of-the-gods-part-one-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13487-home-of-the-gods-part-two-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Three: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13490-home-of-the-gods-part-three-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Four: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13502-home-of-the-gods-part-four-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Five: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13527-home-of-the-gods-part-five-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Six: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14012-home-of-the-gods-part-six-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Seven: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14350-home-of-the-gods-part-seven-by-f-r_eaky/ Fabian woke very late in the morning. Hoisting himself off the floor, he stretched and massaged himself as the unheated concrete floor seeped cold into his body and his new larger muscles and bones ached with a larger amount of stiffness. He nearly fell over and down again, attempting to walk forward, but learning he needed to do a side kick kind of step allowing his burgeoning thighs to roll forward and around one another. Not to mention his arms felt so big and heavy and swung too much weight when he tried to compensate on his balance. It also didn't help that his arms almost couldn't swing back and forth due to the size of his lats and broadness and thickness of his pectorals. He decided to walk to the bathroom and shower, curious as he heard it running and he remembered not finishing it before being... .... ... could one call it an attack? Before being attacked the day before by three of Gabriel's friends. After walking a few steps he spun around and looked at the door. He swore to God he heard someone pounding on it furiously as though trying to break in by breaking the door down. He didn't hear or see anything. Turning to walk back to the bathroom he heard the pounding again, stopped turned and looked... ... ... nothing. He turned away again, but thought before he began to walk and then took off for the bathroom, pausing and smiling when he realized the noise was the sound of his twenty-one inch long, thick, muscular meaty feet slapping the floor when he walked. But then he heard an actual bang. It sounded like pounding on the delivery truck door that went down the wall and finally to the people entrance. A couple of extreme pounds later and suddenly there burst through Gabriel, looking extremely pissed and screaming at the top of his lungs. "You somehow manage to make my boys go mental. Screaming about some giant Olympian bodybuilder. That's it. You may be a little taller than me, Reid, but I am gonna take... you.... .... .... down?" Gabriel had taken a goodly number of steps into the warehouse before he noticed the hulking figure that was now Fabian. Standing at what was a few inches below the point of where Fabian's lats began to flare out from his abdomen and obliques, Gabriel took in the view as Ian loomed over him and did a most muscular, flaring out his neck, traps, and shoulders, while ballooning out his chest and upper arms. Gabriel whimpered just a little and then slowly backed away before making a dash for the door and running out of the warehouse. Fabian chuckled to himself. "I didn't even have to say anything. I actually didn't have to say a word." He turned and began to walk back towards the bathroom, feeling his cock inflate longer and heavier as the thought of just posing at Gabriel made him turn and run. By the time he made it to the bathroom doorway, it was fully erect and his head was preceding him into the bathroom by nearly two feet. Suddenly there was a tug and a pull on his massive member and when Fabian finally walked through, he looked down to see Reid smiling, holding his cock, and standing right at the point where his lats flared out from the rest of Fabian's body. "You know...anything that sticks out two feet or more from the vehicle carrying it has to be tagged with a red flag. That's the law." "It's already got quite the red head. Isn't that enough?" "It is for me" said Reid smiling as he continued to pull Fabian into the shower, which he had finished up when he woke up earlier. Reid had some personal fun as he helped lather Fabian up, groping and cupping all of the new mountainous muscle bellies that covered Fabian's body. Truly, if he was normal height, he'd be one of the biggest built bodybuilders ever with enviable genetics everyone hoped and wished for. Reid then went through and traced every crevice, attempted to massage Fabian's muscles, before he finally tried to help massage any stiffness out of Fabian's muscles due to sleeping on the cold concrete floor. Eventually he took in Fabian's cock head as best he could, licking and stroking it until both he and Fabian needed to stay in for another shower to get cleaned up. Afterwards, they finished putting together Fabian's new make-shift bed and lay down upon it, talking. "You had me a bit worried, Fabe. As the changes occurred you kept going on about strength and power. I thought you were going to become an asshat meathead." "I was a bit overpowered and overwhelmed by the sensation. C'mon, Reid, you can't tell me you never felt good about standing head and shoulders over most males, or that your stronger and better built than them. I've seen you slightly show off. You like it when you can use your size to play the hero." "I try not to be arrogant about it though, and you were just in full self-lust and power-worship as your body blew up and grew. And who plays the hero now?", Reid said despondently. "Some protector I'm gonna be. You stand just over three feet taller than me! And I know you love to top. When your cock first grew it was fine. Felt great. But now.... You're so big and big and BIG! If we're gonna make out... .... I think I'd have to fuck your cock." "Hey....hey..." said Fabian softly. "We'll figure out some way to make it work out. And just because I'm bigger..." "So much bigger..." "That doesn't mean you still can't stand up for me. And out of all the pricks that are Gabriel's friends, only one stands taller than you, and he's definitely smaller built than you. You're almost a foot taller than average males and bigger built than most sports stars. Don't think of yourself as week and useless to me. You remember the first time you actually hefted a really good decent amount of weight?" "Yeah..." "And the pump it gave the body part you were working out?" "Yeah..." "Or how your clothes felt so much tighter, or better yet the time you first ripped out of shirt by accident?" "Yeah..." said Reid now laughing lightly. "Or the time you finally realized you stood taller than your old man, or most of your school mates?" "Yeah...." "Then think of it from my point of view. I was a very scrawny, 5' 2" tall man. Even average guys towered over me. Suddenly I'm growing up and up and up, my muscles are filling out and out and out. I see average men getting smaller, tall men becoming average - child size, and I can feel a power in my body that's growing more and more the bigger I get. It's just like those feelings you experienced, but they were happening all at once and kept going and growing for like so much... ... ... It was just.... such a huge rush. Such a glorious feeling filling me up." "I can tell." said Reid smirking and reached up and gave Fabian's once again erect cock a pull down to the bed top and then allowed it to spring up and smack Fabian in his abs all the way to just below his chest. Both the men chuckled and then with a gleam in his eye, Fabian grabbed Reid and pulling him, Reid's back to his chest and abs, finally rolled over on his side to lay down with Reid engulfed by his body. Reid lay there feeling the heat pulse through Fabian's cock on his back. "C'mon, love. You gotta let me go." "Spoon." "You're going to make me late for work." "SPOON!" "Really, Fabe, someone has to pay for this warehouse." Fabian lowered his voice as deep as it could go and then softly growled in Reid's ear, "spooooooooooooooooooon." The pair lay there until there was just enough time for Reid to get dressed and get to work on time, but they both wished the moment could last forever. **************************************************************************** That night, started one of the worst times in Fabian's life. It was going on 9 p.m. and Reid was at least three hours late getting home from work. At ten after nine there was a loud thump against the regular door, followed by the sound of several people banging on the truck delivery door. This was followed by the sound of many running footsteps and tire squeals. Fabian cautiously went to the regular entrance door and saw the bottom of it had a large dent inwards. Opening the door, he saw the reason, a large cinder block with a note that read: "You're a giant strongman. That doesn't mean you don't have a weakness. You may not venture out because of your size, but your lover does." At twenty after nine, Reid stumbled through the door, low moaning Fabian's name. There was a gash on his brow in between his eyebrows, both eyes were black, his lips were swollen and if he did move them, blood was coming out of his mouth and hiding his teeth. One hand was black and blue and it seemed attached oddly about halfway up the arm. He had trouble breathing, his work uniform was torn, one shoe was missing, once there he couldn't walk, and his delivery van that he drove home in was nowhere in sight. Immediately Fabian went to dial the emergency number, cursing his new size as his much larger digits constantly pressed more than one number every time he attempted to dial on the much smaller cell phone. Finally he grabbed a pencil and began to use that and called an ambulance. The EMT's arrived to discover Reid just lying inside the warehouse. Fabian knew how the scene would look if he had stayed there. Giant bodybuilder - man beaten to a pulp. He would be blamed and arrested. He left running down into a nearby aqua duct and hiding under the bridge where a road passed over it. Reid wound up in the hospital for two weeks. Punctured lung, three broken ribs, concussion, broken ocular bone, one tooth removed, broken arm, sprained ankle. He was released but still laid up for another three months or so while waiting for bones to heal. Fabian had to take care of things for him on his own. He checked his personal account and then had to make friend with a local whom he not only felt he could trust, but, of course showed what man his size could do if the guy just took off with the card and spent his money. They guy helped move in a restaurant sized refrigerator and enough groceries to store in it. Later Fabian used it to buy some building supplies, only he wasn't going to build onto the warehouse structure. Cinder blocks, mortar, I-beams Fabian used to first make a "bench" that could support him, his weight, and any weight he worked out with. Then he began to build walls onto the ends of the I-beams, small ones at first, then medium, and finally some larger ones. Fabian was seeing red. They had beaten up Reid and he couldn't do anything about it. Well, he soon would. Fabian used the wall and beam segments he bought to make something akin to a set of weights and he began to work out... and work out... and work out. He kept his muscles engorged with blood as much as he could, allowing only for proper rest to ensure growth. He ate until he thought his stomach would burst, and hoped he could transfer all of it to his already enormous muscles.... and he did. Fabian watched on the scale as his weight went up and up....ten pounds....twenty pounds..... forty pounds.....eighty pounds.... one-hundred pounds. He had trouble walking before, now he really swayed side to side as he kicked his legs around one another. Just ten pounds over the seventeen hundred pound mark. One-thousand, seven-hundred, ten pounds of pure muscle. But that wasn't all that Fabian did. Shortly after starting his workouts, Fabian began to noticed odd things. The basket he had been presented with on his induction to the tribe had increased in size and now housed his newly sized cock and balls regardless of whether flaccid or erect. He began to wear it most of the time to keep his cock out of his way when lifting. Some of the cinder blocks had been used to make another shallow pool in the bathroom and a very large natural stone had been placed in the back part of said pool. Wild, tropical flowers had begun sprouting and growing in parts of the bathroom, so Fabian knew he had begun chanting again. Mid-spring is when Reid was finally able to come back to the warehouse, still looking a little tired and drained of color. He opened the door and walked in, staring at the odd sculptures that Fabian had made out of the cinder blocks and I-beams not knowing they were new weights for a giant man, and then out of the corner of his eye saw the massive, Titan like frame of Fabian as he stood up from his make shift bed. Reid wasn't sure what to say or to ask. He was stunned by how much larger, beefier Fabian looked. How much heavier he sounded when he walked. But it was the odd look in Fabian's eye that left Reid speechless and motionless. It was a mixture of a blank stare and determination. Fabian reached out and grabbed Reid like he was a child, carried him into the bathroom and then placed Reid in the small pool like area next to the actual shower. He placed Reid with his back against an very tall, thick, stone, the top of which poked up and out of the floor, a smooth round boulder with a crack in the top. Torches were lit everywhere within the bathroom, followed by bundles of incense of some kind, with a very heady and very musky in aroma. Invisible drums began to be beaten and Fabian began to sing chants louder and louder. He made sweeping motions with his feet upon the ground and urged Reid to do the same. Reid began to mimic the movement out of fear of a what behemoth sized, tranced Fabian might do to him if he did. Soon, Reid's legs were as though they were made out of rubber, stretching out instead of being moved in a sweeping motion. His vision began to blur and his head swooned as the bathroom seemed to heave and undulate, warping, skewing in shape and form. Suddenly the floor beneath him began to feel warm, very warm. Warm enough he began to hop dance instead of making the sweeping motion he had been instructed to perform. At this Fabian began to scream, but not in terror, more in ecstasy, as though moaning in orgasm, and in an orgasm so great he might just expel their own soul when cumming. Fabian had been wearing his basket to hold his genitalia and took it off. Reid knew Fabian had become endowed after his last battle with Gabriel's friends, but he still marveled now at the ginormous 16.25 inch, flaccid hung member of Fabian and at how much longer and thicker it became after growing to a 2 foot long erection. Reid knew that Fabian must be spending most of his time walking around nude or in a pair of pants sporting the most obscene bulge ever seen on a man. Erect Fabian's penis didn't stick up like many men's erect penis do, but instead stuck straight out and bobbed as if it was a divining rod made for dowsing. Still hop dancing, his back and arms against the tall rock formation behind him, to help support him in his dance as his head began to swoon more and more, his eyes becoming heavy and tired, Reid began to feel hot and extremely bothered. For some reason he was being turned on. Fabian came forward and removed his shirt, pants, and underwear, and Fabian had already removed his shoes before entering the bathroom. With his small, flaccid cock now flopping around free it began to grow and lengthen to its mighty and full erect status of 7 inches. The heat was growing in him. He felt the heat rising up his body, and felt the heat rising up the stone as well. He thought he felt the air caressing his balls and tugging at his cock. Warmer and warmer he and the rock became, and the hotter they got, the hornier Reid grew. The feeling became so powerful Reid was convulsing more than he was dancing or stomping, the shock waves of pleasure riding over him. Suddenly Fabian let out groans and gasps of ecstasy, his mighty cock having grown even more incredibly long and thick, now spewing forth ribbons and ribbons of cum into the small, wading pool in which Reid was standing. Fabian fell forward upon his knees, taking his hands and rubbing his seed into the ground, groping and massaging, as though fondling some massive muscle or body. The heat kept building and building, Fabian and Reid were sweating profusely. Reid swore he was getting burned on his feet and back as the temperature began to rise higher and higher in the pool floor and the stone. Eventually the ground rumbled and a great gushing sound could be heard followed by a great torrent of water streaming over and down the great rock behind Reid's back. Fabian rose up and backed away as the water cascaded over Reid, drenching him, coating him, and filling up the small wading pool. Striking the pool, part of the water began to hiss, evaporating into great clouds of steam, upon which Reid's head snapped back, he jerked and convulsed, and felt as though someone, something, reached through his dick, into his balls, and pulled out his cum in great strands that felt large enough to be ropes for a sailing ship. Gasping for air, sinking to his knees, Reid saw Fabian approach. "I am Kali'iti'nui no more. I am now, Tanakamaunga - man mountain. We believe that the gods reside in our penis. Although most men of this tribe are raised since birth, being taught exercises and have weights hung to make their penis grow and grow in order to house more gods. You and I were not raised so, but that does not mean you cannot come to greatness, for look what has happened to me. You who so wished to heed the words of the chief and be my protector as he so ordered of you, shall find a way to do so. For your acts of bravery and loyalty, I have made you one of the tribe, and thus at least one god will come to reside in your cock and grant you happiness and prosperity in some form, or so I hope. I thank you. Be blessed, you who have sought to protect me, physically, mentally.... emotionally. You shall take my old name, Kali'iti'nui, meaning small giant, for among most men you are tall and built in stature, and your courage and heart is as big as the men as large as mountains." With that Fabian washed Reid's genitals and groin area with some of the geyser water that erupted from the stone, and then reaching out his hand, grabbed a newly formed basket made by the wild flowers, vines, and ivy growing all around the bathroom. He then placed the basket upon Reid's genitals and tied it around Reid's waist. Reid smiled somewhat punch-drunk like and attempted to say thank you, but fell unconscious into sleep and some of the best fantasy dreams of him and Fabian he ever had of his life. The next morning Fabian woke up to discover the other side of his bed was empty. He could've sworn he had woke from a trance and helped place Reid into bed with him. Walking to the bathroom, he discovered Reid was sitting cross-legged in the ritual pool. His eyes were slightly rolled back, and eventually Fabian could hear a chant coming across Reid's lips. " Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga..." Fabian knew it was not the name of the God of Gods in the Ulpooin pantheon, but he couldn't tell Reid who it was, and Ke'atuka'ine, God of Gods, wasn't communicating any information to him from his cock. Not too long after, Reid simply woke up, took a shower, kissed Fabian and his abs good-bye and reported for work. Around four in the afternoon, Fabian received a knock and a note taped to the entrance door of the warehouse. It was from Gabriel and told him he and his friends were aware that Reid was back to work and that if Fabian didn't meet them downtown, in the back alley behind Reid's workplace, Reid would receive the pummeling of his life, or more likely his death. Fabian was to surrender himself over to Gabriel and his gang for Gabriel to do as he wished, or Reid was through. Fabian nearly broke the door off exiting the warehouse at four-fifteen. Fabian arrived to the back alley and came upon a scene probably similar to what had happened to Reid four months or so before. Reid, as per usual had worked late, making sure he had delivered all his packages and cleaned out his delivery truck. A car was parked behind the delivery van, meaning Reid couldn't leave to go home, other than by foot. That way wasn't an option as Gabriel and his friends had surrounded his way out and had pulled him into the sort of courtyard area created by the loading docks for the delivery service. He had already received a couple of good blows, and being so soon from his recent recovery, he was already swooning from the attack. It was at that moment that Fabian in a very tight pair of hand-made shorts, stepped out of the actually alleyway and its shadows to confront the men. "Ganging up on folks again. With me joining in, I'm pretty sure Reid and I can take you all down." Gabriel spun around to see Fabian and in a flash had pulled out a gun and pulled the trigger. It was an odd sound and sensation happening. It didn't sound like a gun had been fired, and Fabian didn't feel something pierce his flesh and burn going through. Instead it felt like he received an injection, and the world felt as though it was turning and his vision was blurring. "I knew you wouldn't stand by or come quietly and I don't know how you got to the size you did, but I know we couldn't take you, especially when your smaaaaaaaaall boyfriend, who isn't too small to us, except for DeWayne and possibly Fernando, would attempt to join in and take us down. So.... I got an elephant tranquilizer. Figure that'd at least incapacitate you if not make you sleep for the trip I'm going to take you on. But while you're there kneeling in your stupor, my boys and I are going to make sure Reid learns his lesson by sending him back to the hospital again and then he can watch helpless as we carry you away. We've got a tow truck and everything to help hoist you into a truck. Continue, boys." And with that the friends of Gabriel continued their fist-to-cuffs on the already dazed Reid. Arjun kicking Reid in the balls. Michael smacking Reid against the face or boxing his ears. Fernando punching Reid in the gut, while DeWayne bopped him on the head in between Gan Otkai yanking on Reid's hair. All the while Fazzah screamed at him and joined Gabriel in kicking and hit him any way any where possible. Poor Reid was beaten right back to the same condition that they had left him in earlier in the year, and they laughed as they moved to grab Fabian and take him away. But suddenly there was a burst of steam from underground. It came together and made a wall separating the men from Fabian and their ability to exit. The sound of drums filled the air and a chant began to be heard. " Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga..." Fernando turned around to stare at the collapsed Reid, figuring it was his voice doing the chanting.... He was right. "Ga..ga...Gabriel..." He hoarsely whispered. All the men turned around to see Reid currently kneeling on the ground, his mouth barely moving, but his word's clearly audible, although, none of the men standing knew what it was. " Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga..." The men suddenly wished they could back up and out of the area as they began to see and hear Reid's body snapping and coming back into correct position. The cuts on his skin healed up and the bruises went away. Slowly but most definitely surely, Reid began to stand up and did so firmly planting his strong stance. The still connected hose Reid had used to help wash down his van suddenly came to life and stood almost straight out of the nozzle it was connected to. The steam was collecting in the are forming a pool of water beneath Reid. The pounding drum sound became louder and louder filling the air with a rhythmical din. When Reid appeared totally healed, water erupted from the standing hose and fell in a cascade upon Reid's head and washed over his body. "Auugh!" Reid moaned. "Hmmmnff!" Reid blurted again. "Ohhuwah!" And now Reid seemed to be thrusting his hips. Over and over again, Reid thrust his hips and each time the basket of his groin swelled larger and larger and larger. Reid kept moaning and thrusting and his packed kept growing becoming obscenely obvious. His pants grew tighter and tighter in the crotch area. Three mounds were forming, one that looked like an extremely large banana was being carried and underneath were the other two grapefruits. Reid finally let a long low scream out as if he was still growing and couldn't take it, and everyone present watched as Reid's cock tore open the teeth of the zipper on his cargo shorts and then flopped out. And it wasn't just his pecker; his balls helped spread the opening and rip it further apart as they fell and dropped out as well. Reid's cock had grown enormously long and thick and his screams of pain trailed off into a sigh of relief and then a laugh of pleasure. Reid's schlong was growing and getting longer and thicker, and his balls were swelling as well. So heavy...so round.... his prick so long...so thick....so hard.... so veiny. It grew and grew until Reid was just as hung and virile as Fabian ever would be. Reid began to laugh pleasantly at first and then almost a little maniacal, as if some stream of an idea washed over his mind. This was replaced by small gasps and grunts as Reid began to jerk his feet up and down, side to side, stomping and stomping. The seven gentlemen who had just beaten him up stared at his feet to try and see what was happening and then they began to see. The sides of his work boots began to bulge out and curl over the sides of his sole. One large ridge formed in the front of each shoe, soon to become a row of one large and four smaller bulges pushing the front of the shoe over the front of the sole. The heel began to stretch very tightly and Reid's ankles started overfilling the holes that were where the feet entered. In another few moments one could hear and see the straining, exceedingly taut laces snap in surrender, followed by the odd, low, ripping sound of hard leather as Reid's feet out grew his shoes by one, two, four, eight, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four sizes to become thick, meaty, muscular, 21" long man feet. Michael, the man with the giant paws and feet for a man of just 6' 2" or so tall, noticing what might be happening, broke his hypnotized stance of awe and ran to take Reid down. He might of succeeded, but Reid's hands had grown equally as much as his feet had and he swung his arm to deliver his own smack down. Michael was knocked senseless and about half way across the square loading area. Reid's balls had been throbbing, increasing in size and then shrinking, pulling up. Every time they had done so is when Reid's hands and feet got bigger. They started doing so again and as Reid moaned and groaned in greater pain while grabbing a hold of his legs and arms, a small cracking and breaking sound was heard and Reid stood taller....and Taller....and TALLER....and TAAAAAAALLER! His socks which had shrunk from just under his calves with the growth of his feet to just above his ankles shrunk down further to just under his ankles. His shorts moved from his knees to one fourth the way up his thigh, half-way up the thigh, too looking like 1970's sports, short shorts to almost like brief underwear, except despite his trim build his waist snapped the button and now his fly was pulled excessively wide apart. His shirt hem rose and rose above his waist, above his abs, beyond where his lats come in and stopped just under his chest. Not that you could see that because having already been fairly muscular and now three feet taller, every button had been popped off the shirt as his chest stretched the shirt open. The sleeves rode up and up over his mighty upper arms, over his delts, and if the front of the shirt was complete it would've gone from a short sleeve shirt to sleeveless muscle shirt. Swaying a bit as the pain settled from his massive growth spurt, Reid bent forward causing his back to rip the shirt down the back and thus only hang on him via his shoulders. His neck had snapped the collar as well. Shucking the shirt off of his body, he smiled as he noticed that his bending forward had caused his bubble butt to blow out the back of his cargo shorts. He then reached and yanked what was left of his shorts and underwear off of his body as well as using his long toes to pull the now tiny socks off of his feet. He closed his eyes and breathed in a few deep breaths, feeling the cool spring breeze caressing his body. Before any of the now six men could move, Reid began to do small shouts, like power lifters and bodybuilders make before they hoist a weight up. "Uhp..." And Reid suddenly did a side triceps pose. "Ommmph" And into a side chest. "hoop!" Lat spread. "hnngh!" Most muscular, crab shot. "Hup!" Abdominal crunch and front thigh extension. "Hep!" Front double biceps pose. "Hooch!" Back double biceps pose. "HRRRR!" Back, Thigh Bicep, and Calve pose. Over and over and over again Reid kept cycling through the poses and each time he did so, his muscles swelled bigger....larger....thicker....harder....fuller....denser....broader....veinier.... His calves inflated into giant pulsing hearts and finally a throbbing diamond shape. The thighs ballooned and grew into a collection of swollen tear drop shapes like a bunch of water balloons. His abs formed bricks fit for the Great Wall of China, while his obliques bunched and formed such as to look like a great lattice work was plastered on Reid's sides. His lats grew out so wide and thick it looked like he could jump from a plane and join para-gliders without the need for the special winged suits. His arms flared out more and more at greater angles from his body as his upper arms inflated and grew until one swore he had a football stuffed in where his biceps should be. A pair of thick muscular shapes looking like Clydesdale sized horseshoes hanging off the back of the arms. Forearms so thick and powerful they matched the size of Reid's calves. Shoulders that were so full and round and with such density, surely they were world globes stolen off of statues of Atlas holding up the world. His chest barreled so thick and round, so wide and full, he could see nothing standing directly in front of him. Even his erect cock had a hard time sticking out beyond it to be seen. His traps rose and rose like some great range of mountains and his neck swole as thick and round as segments from the Giant's Causway. Reid now strode over to the side of the building, kicking his legs out to the sides in order to move forward. Grabbing a hold of a large iron bar embedded into the brick building, he ripped it free from the mortar and then proceeded to bend it into an arch. He growled as he did so, his voice lowering and lowering in extreme bass tones, while with each degree the bar bent, the hair on Reid grew out and out, thicker, fuller, feathery, until his red hair hung halfway down his back and his hair glistened like glitter all over his body. Throwing the bar in front of Gabriel and his friends, Reid raised his hands above his head and struck a victory pose. At the same time several glowing balls of light came down and anyone watching swore they entered Reid's cock through is piss slit. Once that was done Reid turned and glared with a smirk while bellowing out a name. "GA-BRI-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL!" It echoed throughout the little loading square, and as Gabriel realized he was looking up to Reid as much as he did to Fabian, he actually pissed his pants. "I am not Reid.... I am NOT Kali'iti'nui..... I AM MALSAGAMAUNGA - MEANING TWIN MOUNTAIN!" The god that had inhabited Reid at his initiation by Fabian was Ke'atutel'malsaga, the god of twins and he had chosen to make Reid Fabian's fraternal twin, so to speak, in order for him to be able to protect Fabian, for it takes someone of equal size and strength to protect another man so large. Another spray of water streamed out of the hose, splattering all over Fabian, and the heavy drowsiness he felt began to leave him. His vision cleared, his heavy body, although still feeling heavy, was light enough for him to manage it again. Standing up behind the six men, Michael only just now coming to from Reid's smack down, Fabian growled and struck a most muscular that cause the men to scream and wish for a way out. The drums that had quieted down quite a bit began to pick up their rhythm and loudness. Gabriel's posse began to hold their hands over their ears and look around in bewilderment. Fabian and Reid oohed and moaned in both pleasure and pain as their cocks throbbed so hard, they stuck straight out of their bodies without any bobbing whatsoever. "Friends of Gabriel," Spoke Fabian, "Leave and leave now. Correct your ways or know that we will be here to take care of you. Go.... .... .... NOW!" Fabian's words echoed so loudly it took a good five minutes and several blocks of reverb before the echo faded away. The pair was pretty sure that all six men pissed their pants as they quickly ran away leaving Gabriel all alone. As the drums thundered away, Fabian and Reid began approaching Gabriel, stroking their pricks. Gabriel turned and turned, basically spinning round and round, beginning to whimper and cry. "Two great acts...." "...have been done..." "...in order to...." "...bring us into...." "...the fold...." "....Great acts...." "....do not come...." "....without a cost...." "....some kind of...." "....sacrifice must be made...." "...We will gladly...." "...take a soul....." "...who cannot...." "....be redeemed...." And at that moment, Fabian and Reid stood their ground and suddenly bellowed in ecstasy, and released a load of great, long, strands of cum that spewed in great loops around Gabriel and once coated, as Fabian and Reid moaned and shot off more of their load, Gabriel shrank....as the pair grew....as Gabriel shrank....and the men Grew....and Gabriel became smaller.... and they giants got ever bigger...... For each inch the gods took from Gabriel, they seemed to give two, four, or six inches to Fabian and Reid. By the time all was said and done the hulking forms of Fabian and Reid stood twelve feet six inches tall, twenty seven inch long size US Mens 59 shoe feet, and weighing three-thousand, three-hundred, ninety-three pounds, with cocks that had grown to three feet long. The once decently sized and bullying Gabriel was now only 5' tall, exceptionally thin and week, and just barely stood mid-thigh to Fabian and Reid. The giant pair of men bent at their waist so they could see Gabriel and whispered in growling tones, "You can go now." Gabriel did not have to be told twice. He gathered up his now ill, extremely loose fitting clothing and ran as best as he could back to his apartment where it is said he wept and wept and made a decision never to leave, and especially not to do missionary work. Meanwhile back at the square Reid approached Fabian and the two muscle giants began to grapple and wrestle one another. Eventually the two pulled one another into the other and began to kiss deeply, passionately, frantically. The mammoth manhoods began to rise and become engorged with blood, and they backed off a bit to hoist them up, cock heads between their pecs, and then move back together, holding one another and grinding their hips so their erect phallics began to rub each other up and down. After several minutes of frotting, Fabian picked up Reid by Reid's ass, flinging and wrapping the massively mounding legs and meaty feet of Reid around his waist. In this position he pushed Reid towards Reid's truck, causing the back doors and much of the roof to cave in, followed by the tires blowing out, once almost 7,000 pounds or three and half tons of male muscle collapsed upon the delivery van floor. With the small amount of height difference, Fabian took advantage and plunged his prestigious pecker into Reid's cavernous hole. Reid's neck arched as his head tilted back. He reach up to grab around the driver's seat for support and wound up pulling it, breaking it free from it's stationary position in the van. The two thrust and rocked, twisted and pounded. Whatever part of van's shelving that didn't collapse when the two fell into the van, their motion now knocked, dinged, and bent, deforming the pieces from ever being usable again. Reid pushed on the walls while grunting and moaning in pleasure and pain. And behold, the van's wall's did bulge out in massive mounding bulges with gigantic hand prints in the center. The front of the van was taking a beating as well, for with each thrust Fabian was giving, he pushed the van into the loading bay wall. Headlights, grill work, bumpers, were no more. In what seemed like hours to them, Fabian finally started herky-jerking out of control. The spasm of sexual bliss was washing over him and with one last thrust he shot a load so powerful, so large, that Reid swore it came up into his mouth a bit all the way from his ass. The very thought of which had him spewing over his head to coat the front of the van and shatter the windshield. The pair went home to the warehouse, which was now a bit cramped, but luck was on their side, actually. Six other gods came to reside in the protruding penis of Reid. The gods of: luck in chance, money, plant fertility, crafting arts and technology, stamina, and handsomeness. By the time they were done with Reid, he had the face of a modelesque, GQ man, with the body of a giant bodybuilding, muscle god, and knowledge of electronics and furniture making as well as financial savy. It wasn't long until Reid was financially independent, and then they bought a much larger warehouse and converted it into something that nearly looked like a grand Edwardian mansion with furniture built their size so they looked somewhat normal when they had flex and sex shows on the internet. That proved to make them very rich financially. Which was good, as folks passing by at night in front of their house swear from time to time they still hear the savage beats of the wild jungle drums and that more and more shadows are cast upon windows of very large, tall, and hung men.
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