The Security Squad, part 5

[Hialmar]

Last chapter is found here:

https://muscle-growth.org/topic/10551-the-security-squad-part-4/

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It was several minutes later, and this individual unit of our Squad must have been released from the chair. This individual … I … was focused on my duty. In order to become useful for my country, Squad and sub-unit I had to improve myself.

As in a dream, I stepped in file behind Bill, and with Sergeant Williams behind me. Bill entered the membrane, then I. We reached each of our stations at the same time, and stood for a moment between the active metal racks of our own stations, our legs broad apart, our boots firmly on the ground. My racks stood opposite Brad’s station, so I could see him well. I had Bill on my right. He  faced Sergeant Williams on my left, closest to the membrane. We could feel and hear how the racks vibrated and hummed of power. All three of us grabbed our racks at the same moment, eagerly joining Brad in the enhancing process, and became living Zythronic conductors.

The power hit me. The name of the Preparatory Phase was apt: It was just a preparation for the REAL power levels. I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a moan, when I felt how the power current flowed through me, causing my muscles to tense and relax, tense and relax in an upward-spiraling wave of energy. 

”Increase levels to 65%”, a British voice instructed someone.

Just a few seconds later, I could feel the rush of even more power. I felt pumped. More than pumped. All my muscles were engorged in an incredible way. Real growth was occurring at an unimaginable rate. And it happened to my brothers too: Williams, Bill. And Brad. Bill couldn’t control himself:

”Yeah! Fuck, yeah! Make me a fucking beast!”

Sergeant Williams wasn’t speaking. He was immersed in the experience, his eyes shut, sweat trickling from his temples and his naked chest, causing his pecs to become shiny. His neck swelled into a bullneck, and, unlike Brad and me, his waist didn’t shrink noticeably. There had always been something ox-like about his shape, but that aspect was now enhanced and intensified, and it looked that Bill was evolving in that direction, too.

Brad welcomed the increased power levels, shouting with his, now significantly deeper, voice:

”Good! So good! Don’t stop it! Keep going, keep going! Uhnnn… YES! More! Give me fucking more! Don’t hold back! I can take it!”

He had always had a narrow waist, broad shoulders and a barrel-chest, but these traits were now enhanced in a way I couldn’t describe. I could feel the machine relentlessly work on myself, too — shaping me, making me harder, more defined. My abs felt like the proverbial cobblestones. My back like a brickwall. My former fragile self disappearing in the mindless power blaze, and a stronger, heavy, pain-resilient and confident me emerging out if its energetic forge.

”Increase levels to 75%”.

”Increasing levels to 75%, Sir!”

A lesser man would now, undoubtedly, have felt excruciating growth pains, but the four of us had three bio-chemical formulas synergetically pumping in our bloodstreams, and the gradual rise of Zythronic power had raised our resilience to pain. Instead of pain, I felt a rush of pump, pleasure and power, when the energy levels increased and hit me. My hands instinctively cling and grabbed to the conductible racks, not letting any little bolt or spark of power escape my power-hungry brawn.

Pump.

Pleasure.

Power.

”Zey vould now haf ze stamina to bear ze brunt of ze Vril Power. Be ready to avake ze Vril Power within ze test subjects. From vhat I gather, ze mesomorph is likely to handle it best, but I am eager to see its effect on ze ectomorph and ze two endomorphs, too. Ve didn’t have any opportunity to experiment on zeir bodytypes in ze past.”

”Warming up the Vril cannons, Herr Doktor Professor!”

”I hope for your soul and conscience, that you are right this time, Helmut. My heart would break if something happened to these fine boys. For heavens sake, we don’t even know what Vril really is!”

Another sort of humming sound began to fill the chamber. Deeper. Like a heartbeat in a far off, long-forgotten, super-nova. Like a heartbeat in the depths of Earth. Like a heartbeat in the middle of my soul. Then, I shut my eyes, and was overwhelmed by black lightning in my mind, stars exploding in violet fire, the primordial song of Nature, and the feeling of something happening in my solar plexus and immeadiately under my navel. 

A force, that had slumbered inside me, unknown, and unbeware of its own existence, stirred in its sleep, increased in intensity and warmed me up. 

A sphere of unimaginable force formed between my solar plexus and my navel, then expanded in every direction, affecting my heart, my loins and dick, my legs, chest and back, my shoulders, my arms, hands and traps, my neck and my head. 

An otherworldly fire burnt in me. Changed me. It felt like I became taller. I had always been short. I grew taller! Like Brad! 

Like Brad? I opened my eyes. Radiation cannons hanging from the ceiling were emitting crackling bolts and currents of unholy power at each of us four — targets unable to resist, even if we had wanted to. But we didn’t want to resist. 

Bill was writhing in anabolic bliss, his hands crampingly clenching the Zythronic racks (as did the hands of us all). The heavy presence of Sergeant Williams stood erect and imposing, with his boot-clad feet heavily on the floor. Consumed by the Vril Power, I couldn’t focus, but absent-mindedly noticed, that the floor under Sergeant William’s conductible rack was strewn with unlit dark lenses. I then absent-mindedly noticed, that the same was true about the floor under Bill’s station and Brad’s. 

Brad! A ghostly shimmer in bronze and gold surrounded him, as it did surround us others, and his skin tone changed into a tan of the same hue as the shimmer, enhancing his mucle definition. He was growing taller — and that at a visible rate. His abs protruded with deep valleys between them, in a way never seen on another man, and his iliac furrow was second to none. His chest had always been impressive, but now it consisted of powerful, hard and well-defined slabs, which pulsated under the combined hypertrophic effect of the Zythronic Field, the Vril Power and the three formulas in our bloodstreams.

”Lyet us now see, which effect, if any, the completyon of Procedyure 59 will have on the specimens. The addyition of nano-technology will have removed the drawbacks from the old version”, an unknown voice said in an Eastern European accent. The Texan answered:

”Better let Procedure 59 go in tandem with Project Atlas. We don’t know how a one-sided treatment would affect the sensitive balance between the two biochemical formulas. And it is better to let the nano-formula work together with the DNA-alteration.”

”Very well”, a comparatively young voice said. ”Warming up both radiation-emittors.”

The machine had become a chorus now. Four different contraptions worked in symphony, for the common purpose of transforming me and my brothers into something more than human. The dark optical lenses in the floor, which I had wondered about in a never finished thought, now lit up in an increasingly purple light, and, meanwhile, a blue light, of the same colour as a tanning bed’s, rained down on us from the ceiling, increasing its intensity. The chamber was filled by a blinding multi-coloured light, bathing us all in incomprehensible power.

I was no longer conscious about my whereabouts, I just had a very intense and peasurable feeling of expansion. I felt weightless and heavy, as the Earth itself.

I was giving myself to this programme. Whatever doubts I could have had in the past were leaving me. I was rid of hesitation. I was now unable to feel fear. The safety for my Squad was my first concern. The security of my country and my Lord Protector was my ultimate concern. I was ready to perform my duty, to protect my brothers in arms, to defend my country against all domestic and foreign enemies — especially domestic. I felt how all inhibations were removed. I was ready to harm or kill an opponent, if necessary, and I would never question a given order. Insubordination is a disgrace. Insubordination is not an option. In… In… What was that word again? I am an obedient individual unit of this Squad, programmed for duty and obedience. Yeah. A real patriot. Serving the greatest leader we ever had. Serving the greatest country on Earth. We have never had it so good. Defend. Yeah. Protect. Defend and protect. Oh, yes! Feeling of expansion. Weightless and heavy. Inhibations removed. So horny. Wanted to snog Brad, my Sergeant.

”What does the readings say?”

”They are all approaching 7 feet, Sir, but their weight-curves behaves according to their individual constitutions and conditions. The mesomorph now weighs 484 lbs. The circumference of his chest is now 90 inches, and his waist 45 inches. His arms 39 inches and his quads 48 inches. As for the others…”

I wasn’t able to hear my own meaasurements. The intensity of the power currents were too much, and I was lost in the feeling of unfathomable growth. 

”Awaiting further instructions.”

”Keep everything at the present levels, for now.”

”Gentlemen, as you can see we have succeeded: Four separate enhancement projects, that once caused extraordinary results, while still separate, have today been succesfully combined, in order to reach an even higher level of perfection.”

”I very much doubt, that we can proceed any further, by manually controlling the processes from here. Do you think it is time, to test the helmet?”

”You know what I think. Why risk to spoil a succesful experiment with a not enough tested brainwave-coordinator?”

”I say: Let us give the brainwave-helmet a try. At this moment the specimens alone knows how much they could endure, and the fine-tuning is better left to someone, who experience the procedure himself.”

”I am still against it. It is too early.”

”Let’s vote then.”

”Five against two. It is decided then. One of them have to pick the helmet up, and use it.”

”Which one?”

”Does it matter? Pick anyone.”

”I vould vote for ze mesomorph. Look how good he has reaced to the treatment!”

”Oh it doesn’t matter. The mesomorph then.”

”Sergeant Smith? Sergeant Smith, do you hear me?”

I could hear the deep voice of my friend Brad. His voice was deeper now.

”Sir, yes Sir!”

”Do you see a helmet on the floor in the growth chamber? A high-tech helmet, belonging to the equipment?”

”Oh. Yes. Aaahrrrgh. Y-yes, I see it.”

”Do you feel all right?”

”Sir? All right? I feel more than… Oh! Uhmmmm… Fuck, yes! Sorry, Sir. Yes, I feel more than all right.”

”Good to hear. Do you think, that you could pick the helmet up, and wear it?”

”Is that an order, Sir?”

”Yes. Pick it up, and wear it. You will be able to control and co-ordinate the processes that affect you and your three mates of this sub-unit. Use your discernment, and improve yourself and your team-mates as much as you deem possible and desirable.”

”Sir! The order will be executed! Improve according to possibility and desireability!”

The power flickered for a moment. Then it increased in a much more subtle and seamless way than before. Something else guided the processes, than before — something able to understand the power and the growth intimately. And that something was my friend Brad, my Sergeant. Williams, Bill and myself had all surrendered to what Brad deemed possible to achieve and desireable to achive, and we were clay in the hands of a potter, molten iron at the will of a caster, heated iron before the hammer of an all-powerful smith eager to forge the perfect weapon. 

The hair on my forearms bristled, and it felt like a sensual, immaterial fluid, both cold and hot at the same time, ran from the backside of my head down on my entire body. I felt how the beams, rays and power currents merged into something unknown, and I felt how an even more fierce and irresistible wave of Vril Power erupted within me, and I was consumed by its ecstatic embrace.

Brad stood at his station, his trousers bursting at the seams, revealing calves bigger than rugby balls (but still growing), tree trunk hamstrings and striated quads. Black leather lay in fragments on the floor under him, but what was left of his trousers formed tight, black and glossy shorts around his lower waist, glutes and groin. The golden-bronze hue of his upper body and naked legs contrasted with the shiny black of his shorts and boots. He was a living embodiment of masculinity beyond all restrictions and limitations, and I knew, that the same was true about myself and the other two. The field around him intensified ever more at the will, and at the urge to grow, of the Sergeant we all wanted to serve and obey, who was my best friend.

”The Zythronic Field is approaching 90%!”

”Shut it down! Levels this high are unaccounted for. We are now in unknown territory.”

”I vant to know ze upper limits of zis programme. Vait anozer minute!”

”90% and rising. Vril Power at 85% and increasing!”

”92.5% and rising. Vril Power at 90%. This is too much!”

We shuddered at the impact of the transformation process, but we didn’t want the experiment to be aborted. Not now!

”The generators can’t take it anymore!”

The room outside blacked down. The loudspeakers went silent. All available energy was directed to the growth chamber, and Brad’s face was glowing by a lustful and triumphant facial expression. His entire physique was emitting lights. He closed his eyes and moaned, louder and louder. His head arched backwards.

”IMPROVE!”, Brad bellowed.

In the next moment, ineffable power currents crackled from his eyes, and hit Williams and Bill, who convulsed and roared under the impact. A similar power current was emitted from Brad’s leather-clad groin and hit mine. I BECAME strength itself. I don’t know what I shouted or which noises I might have emitted. I felt like I could crush rocks and steel with my bare hands, and my back felt like a mountain of brawn.

I became dimly aware of movement. With an unfathomable amount of will-power, Brad had let go of his Zythronic rack, and was moving into the middle of the chamber. When he reached the centre of the chamber, I had a short respite to recuperate, and I noticed, that the same was true about Williams and Bill. The lenses, above and below the station Brad had left, went out, which allowed the lenses in the middle of the chamber to intensify.

All Vril cannons now turned, so that they pointed in one and the same direction, the cones of light converging in one single point: The centre were Brad stood, eagerly awaiting their brutal impact. And when they hit him, his obscenely engorged muscle mass erupted in further hypertrophy. For a moment, he staggered under the amount of energy, but then recovered his balance, now with a more unwavering and confident stance than ever before. He arched back, lifted his arms and did a double biceps, roaring:

”IMPROVE!”

The Vril cannons turned, as they would have a life of their own, back to their original stations, with one exception. The cannons, which had originally been focussed on Brad’s station, were now hitting him in his back. The lenses, at the station Brad had left, were still unlit, and the unused power rushed to the three remaining stations, sending me and the others into heightened anabolic frenzy.

”Yes! More!”, Bill shouted.

Sergeant Smith… Brad… approached me. His godlike shape stood for a moment before me, his back bombarded by the Vril cannons (also affecting me, when the Vril Rays continued through him into me) and his brawn sharing the rush of rays bathing us from above and below. He looked me into my eyes, and said:

”I have told you before. I feel proud to grow you. I love to grow you. And now I am able to do it without limits. There is no ’too much’. I want more. I want to be extreme. I want you to be extreme. Join me, Joe. Join me.”

Without further ado, he sunk on his knees before me, and slowly began to unbutton the fly of my black leather shorts. One button. Two. Three. Leaving the uppermost one intact behind the belt. He reached out his big paw and released my wildly pulsating rod. I didn’t believe what happened. The next moment, my Sergeant, who was my best friend, had swallowed my rod and placed his hands on my leather-clad glutes. Zythronic Power flowed through me at insane levels, and through me into Brad. Vril cannons, intended to expose two separate stations, now relentlessly irradiated one single station, where I stood, with my powerful legs wide apart, and with an ever growing titanic friend between my legs, robbing me of the last traces of coherence. I couldn’t resist. I let go. And while Brad sucked me off, he transformed myself and himself.

”Oh, Sarge. Oh, Brad. I’m, oh! So beyond all… Oh! What’s happening?”

My thews throbbed of strength. My beef became uncrushable. My shoulders and chest must have expanded in a behemothic way, but I was lost in bliss and ecstacy. My mind was lost in unwavering loyalty to my country, my Leader and my Sergeant (who is my friend Brad). And my friend Brad forcefully crammed hitherto unknown levels of power into me.

”Oh. Uhnn. Real ace. So good. So much. So much. So.. Uhnnn. No! NO! IT’S TOO MUCH! I can’t bear it!”

A real squaddie obey orders. Sarge has given an order. Improve. There is no ’too much’. Sarge… Brad want me to be extreme. He want me to join him. A real squaddie obey orders. It isn’t something dangerous. Brutally good. Can’t bear it, can’t handle all this! But I will, because a real squaddie obey orders. Even if it kills me, I will die feeling levels of strength no man has experienced before me. And if I survive, I will be a weaponised man. A soldier of a sort the world has never seen before. Together with my brothers. Together with Brad.

”Oh! Oh! Oh, yes! IMPROVE! Want more! Crave strength! MORE! Yes! Increase! Yes! Overwhelm me, Brad! Raw! Pure! Brutal! Nnnn. Overwhelm me! What are you doing to me? What are you making me into? It’s too much! Never too much! Never too much! Increase! Enhance! POWER!”

I was Strength. I was Power. I was raw, primitive, brutal Masculinity. I was Virility unbound, free to roam the world. I was a living thunderstorm. I was a powerhouse. I was a living nuclear explosion. I was what Brad wanted me to be.

During the final minutes of the growth process, I was lost in mindless ecstasy. Moans, grunts, roars and bellows were heard, accompanied by the terrifying noise of crackling power. 

Since the entire chamber was connected to Brad’s brainwaves, when he reached orgasm, so did the chamber and all the test-subjects within.

- - - 

Next chapter is here:

https://muscle-growth.org/topic/10744-the-security-squad-part-six/

 

Edited August 25, 2018 by Hialmar
continuity, link, another link, added the word 'bristle'

[hardmuscl4life]

That is some mighty fine imagery there.  Please keep the chapters coming...no pun intended 

[Hialmar]

Thank you for your kind remarks. I have a comparatively simple philosophy about storytelling. I keep writing, until I have told what I wanted to tell. If you have read some of my very short stories, you know, that I -- in some cases -- end stories while a growth experiment is still ongoing, leaving my readers to imagine about what happens then. Other stories need several chapters to be told. What I try to avoid, though, is adding pale repetitions to a story, which has already run all its way. If I guess, I believe this story only need just one more chapter: The concluding part. It will take some time to write.

Long stories might be a problem. Due to writer's cramp, I have left two long stories unfinished. One of them, about a comparatively benign super-soldier unit (preparing to fight space aliens), is left at the point when the (secondary) villain turn himself into something scary, and the other one is left unfinished just at the point when the formerly brawny student becomes a genius and the formerly scrawny intellectual student becomes a skinhead bodybuilder. There are more chapter to come in those two cases, but I have to find the right inspiration in order to continue.