Transformation Part I: Mutation - Chapter Fourteen

[Fulano]

First Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1131-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-one/

Previous Chapter: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6388-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-thirteen/

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

The first rays of sun cut across the pale blue newborn sky as I strode, or rather waddled, purposefully toward Hudson Street.

 

After my fall back into the basement, Hank and Matt ran down the stairs and peered into the gaping hole in the ground floor to find me motionless in the remains of the debris-filled gym.

 

“You are okay, right?” Matt asked before his expression changed as he realized that it was a dumb, if perfectly natural question.

 

“Yeah,” I said. “Frustrated as hell but okay.”

 

“What happened?” Hank asked.

 

“I slipped and fell through the floor.”

 

“You slipped?” Matt asked, incredulous. “Let me guess - in your own cum?”

 

“You weren’t this clumsy when you were human,” Hank deadpanned.

 

This made Matt chuckle and I rolled my eyes. “What does a god have to do to get some respect around here?”

 

In the end, it proved to be just the comic relief they had needed. My friends agreed to accompany me and quickly showered and grabbed a bite to eat. They were now locking the place up.

 

Meanwhile, I stopped at the corner of Franklin and Hudson to gauge the public’s reaction to my presence. It was early on a Saturday morning, but in the twenty seconds it took Hank and Matt to catch up, I had already caused two accidents. Of the four pedestrians who had seen me, one passed out, two others who were in front of Sovereign Bank, catty corner to where I stood, dropped to their hands and knees and gawked, and the fourth, a young gay man, had curled into a ball on the sidewalk not ten feet away and was staring at me, eyes glazed over.  He was mumbling to himself.

 

“You’re gonna have to get used to this,” Hank said.

 

My great cock grew harder as I saw more people happen by, see me and instinctively submit. I really am a god, I thought to myself. All of this in one week. The extent of my strength and dominance – my absolute dominance – made me drunk with power and my cum cannon fired several massive volleys into the intersection before I forced it to stop. How unthinkably powerful will I be next weekend? Next month? Next year?

 

I looked down at Hank, who suddenly appeared insignificant and ephemeral. “I’m already used to it,” I said as my perfect masculinity and impossible strength again filled me with a rush of intense euphoria. My massive cock expanded still more and began to throb visibly, bouncing up and down, as if to demand that I acknowledge its magnificence. “It’s been happening for the past several days. I expect it now.”

 

He looked up at me and gasped.  “You’re doin’ it again, man. It ain’t easy to resist fallin’ to the ground.”

 

I turned and saw that Matt was nodding with a pained expression. He grimaced and stood slightly hunched as if carrying an unbearable load.

 

“What is it?” I asked. Part of me felt I should be concerned at their suffering, but another part knew that they simply needed to assume mankind’s natural position before me, kneeling and bowing in complete submission, and the discomfort would go away.

 

“You’re too beautiful,” Matt said, almost gasping. “It’s painful, but I can’t turn away. Every time I adapt to how you look, you become still more beautiful. Awesome. Glorious. Godly.” Tears began streaming down his face and his gaze fell to my chest, his eyes wide in disbelief, then down to my cock and impossibly huge legs. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he said as he collapsed to the sidewalk and began kissing my feet.

 

“Yes,” I said as my great cock doubled its powerful throbbing and rewarded the slave by drenching it with pre-cum. “I am your god. The need to worship me is natural.”

 

At that instant, I felt a flash of terror. Something in my consciousness had shifted, but as quickly as it started, it was over.

 

I gazed dispassionately at the young blond slave at my feet. The time to wield my power over these creatures had arrived.

 

“Jamal,” a male voice said. “You can turn this down.”

 

Jamal?

 

I regarded it as if seeing it for the first time, this red-headed slave that was talking to me instead of worshipping along with the others. I found its behavior curious but irrelevant and turned to survey the intersection, which was now clogged with abandoned vehicles as drivers and passengers alike knelt before me, many of whom were so overwhelmed with my extreme hyper-masculinity and beauty that they were weeping as well.

 

Seven billion willing slaves.

 

“Jamal!” the red-headed slave yelled. I turned back to look at it, again wondering why it remained standing before me, and felt its fear spike. It emptied its bladder and shrank to the sidewalk, its body quaking in terror. I was considering ordering it and its little blond companion to service my grapefruit-sized balls when the abrupt shift of consciousness repeated and I was seeing with two sets of eyes, one the absolute Master of everything, the other...

 

My name is Jamal.

 

Confused, I blinked.

 

“Hank?” I asked. I felt disoriented, as if I had wakened in an unfamiliar room, and shook my head. I looked down to see him staring up at me with a face twisted with worry and wet with tears. Meanwhile, Matt was flat on his back a few feet away and gasping for breath.

 

“You can turn it down, man,” Hank said quickly, as if I were about to swat him out of existence like a gnat. He wiped the tears from his face with the thick hair of his forearm.

 

I furrowed my brow. “Turn what down?”

“Feelin’ your oats,” he said. “Every time you start thinkin’ about how mighty you are, we end up flat on the ground.”

 

I pulled him up and lifted him so that his neck was against my nose. Then wrapping my great arms around him, I closed my eyes and inhaled, taking in his familiar scent. My Big Red. I smiled to myself.

 

“What you doin’?” he asked, still terrified.

 

“Promise you’ll never leave me,” I whispered in his ear. “If anyone can remind me of who I am, it’s you.”

 

He continued to tremble uncontrollably.

 

 

A year had passed since the Twin Towers had fallen. America was fighting a complicated war against an enemy that was so difficult to pin down, it sometimes seemed as if we were going in circles.

 

Three months had passed since I had stormed out of Hank’s life, yet here we were walking down West Broadway toward the gaping hole in lower Manhattan – where we had met, where his cousin Karen had died, and where America had changed – for better or for worse. 

 

I hadn’t seen him all summer and he looked as handsome as ever. Same Brooklyn accent. Same waddle. Same emerald eyes and copper hair.

 

It still hurt. Badly.

 

“I can’t believe you called me,” I said. 

 

“I can’t believe you called me back.” 

 

I stopped. “I can’t either,” I said, suddenly feeling cross. “I miss you, dammit.” 

 

“I miss you too, man.”

 

“No. I don’t think you do,” I said. My eyes narrowed. “You just miss the sex.” 

 

“Well, that torpedo of yours is really somethin’ and you sure as hell know how to use it.” 

 

“Fuck you. I’m a man, not a fuck machine!” I stared at him, amazed that he still thought of me that way. It really was all I was to him; a good lay.  

 

“That’s exactly what Michael called you,” he said. “An amazin’ fuck machine.” 

 

I could feel my face flush with shame and anger. I had fucked Hank’s ex. I was desperate, I fucked him, and he convinced the judge to throw out the lawsuit against me. That he took advantage of me was humiliating enough without him telling Hank. 

 

“That was a mistake and so is this,” I said as I turned and strode back the way we had come.

 

“Jamal,” he called after me.

 

I ignored him. It had happened over and over and over. In the end, everyone just wanted me to fuck them and leave as if I were some kind of mechanical stud that could be kept in storage until needed again.

 

I walked briskly northward, forcing him to run to catch up. I felt him grab my wrist. He managed to pull me to a stop before I yanked my arm free.

 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I said even as I realized that I still liked it.

 

“You gonna stop me?” He pulled himself up straight and pushed his great chest forward as if in challenge.

 

“YOU DON’T THINK I CAN TAKE YOUR RED ASS DOWN?” I yelled before remembering that we were standing on a busy West Broadway sidewalk in full daylight. I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed. I was completely on edge. Even as I fought with Hank and part of me hated him, at a deeper level I remained in love and that made me all the more angry.

 

I could feel myself shaking and I rocked side to side, transferring my weight from one foot to the other in an effort to relax and hide my fury. I heard him sigh and opened my eyes to see him staring at me.

 

“Could you dial back those emotions for just a minute?” He asked.

 

“Could you show some emotion for just a minute?”

 

“What do you want from me?”

 

“I want you to love me for who I am!” I blurted out before immediately regretting it. Hank didn’t respond except to frown and look down at the sidewalk at his feet. I could tell that he wanted to say something, but he remained silent.

 

“What are we doing here, Hank?” I demanded.

 

“I can’t tell you,” he said softly as he took my hand in his and gently nudged me back toward Ground Zero. His entire demeanor had changed. Suddenly, he was very serious. “Really. I have to show you.”

 

This time, I didn’t resist.

 

 

Matt and Hank followed me up the sidewalk along the west side of Seventh Avenue toward Central Park. We had briefly considered taking the subway, but the idea of squeezing into such a tight, enclosed space made me think twice. What would I accidentally destroy next?

 

Once again, both had expressed strong reservations about accompanying me to the park. It was only after much discussion that they agreed to follow me – at a distance – and once they cleaned up again. They remained afraid of me. I really couldn't blame them.

 

I had “turned it down” as Hank suggested, and though he and Matt were able to function more or less normally around me, everyone else continued to kneel and bow to me on sight. I didn’t know if my friends had built up some kind of resistance or if it was simple familiarity, but I was grateful.

 

Several more accidents had occurred as I began my march toward the park, but the resulting gridlock prevented any further incidents. Like the pedestrians, the occupants of the cars, buses and trucks all climbed out to get a closer look at me ... and submit.

 

I carefully observed people – my slaves – as I passed them, and though no one was weeping or suffering, as they had been earlier, every last man, woman and child assumed a submissive pose. Even dogs, pet or stray, took a submissive posture. This I hadn’t expected and I found it unsettling. Hank is right. I am more than the ruler of humanity. I am the ruler of everything.

 

I stopped and looked back. My friends were about half a block behind and approached slowly through the kneeling crowd. Further behind them, most people were back on their feet and following at a distance.

 

Matt and Hank stopped about 20 feet back. “Jamal?” Hank asked.

 

“Yeah.” I could still feel their fear.

 

“Just checking,” he said. They slowly moved forward. Matt’s beautiful face glistened with moisture. He had been crying.

 

“Why is my sexy boy crying?” I asked.

 

He looked at the ground.

 

“We love you, man, but you can’t do that again.” Hank said.

 

“I'm sorry, guys,” I said. “I won’t.” Though it had felt perfectly natural at the time, right even, it had frightened me as well and certainly wasn’t what I wanted. Do I have so little control over my own destiny? What good is being a god if I can’t be the god I want to be? If I can’t still be myself?

 

They looked at me doubtfully.

 

“Please, guys,” I said. “It’s still me.”

 

Matt reached over and took Hank’s hand. “But for how long?” he asked. They remained about ten feet away. Hank said nothing.

 

It was a good question. Something had come over me barely two hours before, something that seemed natural and inevitable yet horrifying at the same time – something that pointed to my ascendancy as a god and the elimination of all relationships, even with those closest to me. I clearly remembered looking at both Hank and Matt without any familiarity. They were nothing more than two of billions of slaves that existed only to serve and obey me.

 

If I had any say in the future dynamic between mankind and myself I would not allow such a bleak reality to occur. The mere possibility made me treasure the relationships I already possessed all the more. I would not let my friends go so easily.

 

“Please,” I repeated and fell to my own knees, which shattered the sidewalk, which was pulverized further as the head of my semi-erect cock slammed into it. Shards of cement scattered in all directions and my companions jumped back. “I would give all of this up for you guys,” I said, unwilling to imagine spending eternity alone.

 

“I can’t do this without you,” I said.

 

Several minutes passed during which Matt and Hank continued to stand some distance away. I sat on my haunches on the shattered sidewalk while thousands of people filled the avenue and sidewalks, creating concentric circles around me, beginning just behind where my friends stood.

 

I had resigned myself to the reality that I would have to meet my destiny without them, but just as I was about to stand and continue my journey alone, Matt sprinted forward and kissed me full on the lips.

 

“I love you too much to abandon you,” he said. “You are still my favorite god no matter what.”

 

I stood and smiled. “I’m the only god.”

 

“Then it’s a good thing you’re my favorite.” His statement was nonsensical, but still made me laugh.

 

The next thing I knew he was climbing me like a jungle gym until he settled on my mountainous traps, sitting with his legs around my non-existent neck. I was greatly relieved that he had changed his mind.

 

“Feel free to make yourself comfortable,” I said, pleased that he did feel comfortable enough with me to ride piggyback.

 

I heard him grunt. “Don’t make a mess in your pants,” I said.

 

“Too late,” he said through clenched teeth.

 

Still smiling broadly, I looked at Hank, who approached more cautiously. He stopped about a yard away, just short of the head of my immense tool, and looked up at me. His face was a mask.

 

“Well?” I asked. “I can’t read your mind.”

 

“Can I ride next?”

 

*  *  *

 

Traffic in Midtown was completely gridlocked as I led my followers through the tourist-filled, mega-sign-walled canyon of Times Square. Many of the huge displays that covered entire sides of buildings played live images of me as I walked through the parting sea of humanity. The images drove home how massive and hyper-masculine I was even compared to Hank, who walked to my right. Despite being only a foot and a half shorter, he seemed pre-pubescent in comparison.

 

We continued north on Seventh and into the southern end of the park. I was tailed by thousands, if not tens of thousands, many of whom had abandoned their vehicles and buses along the avenue and adjoining streets. If I had learned anything, it was that my presence in public was, as expected, completely disruptive. Without exception, everyone submitted to and/or worshipped me on sight before trailing me as I continued north. Cops sent to investigate and disperse the growing crowd? Media sent to cover it? I owned them all at first glance.

 

Matt remained on my shoulders and Hank at my side as I made my way along Central Drive toward the large clearing of Sheep Meadow. The few dozen people there dropped what they were doing – playing Frisbee, ball, or simply relaxing on the lawn – and knelt or bowed as I approached. Animals stopped and knelt as well. Horses, pets, squirrels – every creature, large and small, submitted to me on sight.

 

The euphoric rush returned as I was reminded of the incredible power at my command. My dominance was absolute. My strength was beyond reason. My physical magnificence was beyond anything I had dreamed possible.

 

Upon reaching the center of the clearing, I stopped and surveyed the meadow. The grass remained mostly green thanks to the long summer, but the trees that surrounded Sheep Meadow had finally begun to turn color.

 

Beyond the trees, the buildings of Manhattan rose into a clear morning sky. Buildings that were now mine for the taking. In a city that was now mine for the taking. On a planet that was now mine for the taking.

 

Seven billion willing slaves.

 

I watched the sea of humanity as it poured onto the vast grassy clearing. Everyone crouched, surrounding and facing me, on hands and knees. Their movements seemed almost instinctive, natural, even rehearsed. Similarly, my own march to this very spot was instinctive. I didn’t know why this was my destination, I had just walked here.

 

“They’re doing it again,” Matt said. “Organizing into concentric circles. It reminds me of photographs I’ve seen of hundreds of thousands of Muslims praying around the Ka’ba in Mecca.” I felt him shiver briefly. “Wow, I totally have goose bumps.”

 

We watched as people continued to stream quietly, almost silently, into the meadow from all directions and kneel before me. I looked at Hank. “Why aren’t you joining them?”

 

He looked hurt. “Do you want me to?”

 

“No no no. Of course not. I’m just curious.” I turned my head upward a bit toward Matt. “How about you?”

 

“I don’t feel compelled as they must,” Matt said. “I can’t say why.”

 

“What do they want?” I asked as I lifted Matt from my traps and returned him to the ground. I already knew the answer, of course.

 

“To demonstrate their submission just like everyone’s been doing for the past week,” he said with an isn’t-that-obvious tone.

 

“To worship you, man,” Hank said. “Like we all do.”

 

They want to worship me.

 

At that instant, what felt like a wall of energy slammed into me from all directions. I was astonished by its power – a fraction of that at Indian Point, but intense nonetheless. It had a different flavor to it, however. Distinctly different. This energy was … alive.

 

As I realized – it’s from my worshippers – my cock, which like my body was already by far the strongest, most dense material on the planet, thickened and hardened even further. Even being worshipped increased my strength and power.

 

They want to be dominated by me.

 

Again the euphoria of my godhood exploded through me and I closed my eyes to savor the feeling. Smiling, reveling in limitless pleasure, I tilted my head back slightly and raised my mammoth arms over my head, my fists thrusting into the sky. Even in my intense ecstasy, I felt my cock lengthen ever so slightly. My immense muscles expanded yet more.

 

I came, my jism exploding from my great cock in a continuous and audible torrent, arching a hundred yards across the worshipping masses. At the same time, I brought my impossibly powerful arms into a double biceps pose and held it for some time, my cock thrusting into the world that was mine to rule, biceps flexed in a display of the dominance that my slaves so desperately craved, cum gushing forth endlessly like water from a hydrant.

 

I managed to contain the roar that would normally announce one of my epic orgasms to save the hearing of the sea of worshippers surrounding me. Instead, I sensed tens of thousands of sympathetic orgasms, heard tens of thousands weeping at my glory, and much closer, something yelling the name “Jamal.”

 

I opened my eyes. To my right, I recognized the young blond slave I had seen earlier. It was on the ground in a fetal position, crying and repeating the phrase “please stop.” Directly in front of me, the peculiar read-headed slave was screaming at me, “Jamal! I’m Hank! Your best buddy!”

 

It jumped up and down before me, sweat flying from its body, clearly trying to get my attention. Like the blond, this slave was experiencing extreme stress and discomfort, yet resisted assuming its proper position. “This isn’t you, Jamal!” It screamed.

 

The creature was puzzling – addressing its god as a familiar – and I wondered if it was defective. I will heal its mind when my power grows strong enough.

 

“You do not worship me,” I said even as it resumed yelling.

 

“Not until you come back to us,” it said.

 

“Come back? I AM YOUR GOD!” I roared and it immediately fell to the ground and lay motionless. “I AM ETERNAL!” Satisfied, I turned to the young blond who remained curled up on the ground. I lifted it up by its shirt and held it suspended before me.

 

“You two do not worship like the others,” I said. “Why?”

 

“We are your friends,” it said in a broken voice. “We love you.”

 

“Of course you love me. Everything loves me.”

 

“But you love us too.”

 

I laughed at its ridiculous claim. I could no more love a slave than it could love a virus.

 

“Jamal,” it said, its face screwed up with pain. “I’m Matt, your sexy boy. Remember?”

 

It was delusional as well, and I dropped it to the earth. “Lick your god’s massive cock,” I commanded.

 

“I have a better idea,” the redheaded slave yelled. “Why don’t you pull your big head out of your sealed up ass!” It said as it leapt and slammed its fist against my cheek. I could hear and feel its bones shatter and it again fell to the ground, screaming in agony.

 

I looked down and watched dispassionately as it writhed in pain. “You may drink your god’s cum and be healed,” I said.

 

“FUCK YOU!” It bellowed.

 

I blinked.

 

“FUCK YOU!” I screamed as I stormed out of Hank’s apartment.

 

And I was myself again.

 

“Just kill me,” Hank said as he looked up at me. His face was wet with tears.

 

“Hank,” I said. “I’m Jamal. I’m still here.”

 

“Oh, great,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Welcome back.”

 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how to stop it, but the important thing is that I’m back.”

 

“I don’t care anymore. I can’t see you like that again. It’s too painful.” He managed to squat on his knees. He cradled his injured right hand. “Kill me. Please.”

 

“What?” I asked. I heard him perfectly but could not believe my ears.

 

“I won’t live as a nameless slave to you. We have too much history. Kill me,” he said. “Now.”

 

“Me too,” Matt said as he squatted next to Hank and carefully examined his injured forearm, wrist and hand. He looked at Hank, his cheeks still wet with tears. “I love you.”

 

Hank smiled. “I love you too.”

 

Matt looked right at me. “We’re ready. Kill us.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “C’mon guys. Can we lose the melodrama?”

 

Hank somehow jumped to his feet and approached, scowling. “Melodrama? MELODRAMA? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU’RE LIKE WHEN YOU SLIP INTO THIS ‘GOD’ MODE?”

 

I started to respond then realized that something else had drawn his attention. He stared blankly into space for several seconds.

 

“Hank?” Matt asked.

 

He held up his hand toward Matt. “Wait…”

 

Hanks’s brow furrowed as if he was confused or trying to parse something he could barely hear. I looked at him closely and as I watched, his eyes began to grow cloudy, dark. What the fuck? I’m dreaming again?

 

“We need your guidance, your rule, your protection,” Hank said under his breath. His words were barely audible.

 

“What?” I asked, not expecting an explanation. The truth was, now that I was standing there, surrounded by thousands of followers, I had no idea where to start.

 

“Guidance?” I asked. “Protection?” I looked at Matt. “I’m some kind of über-daddy now?”

 

“Alpha Stud, Über Daddy, God,” he said. “Does the label really matter?”

 

I looked at Hank. His eyes were normal again. “What Matt said.”

 

I was about to ask Hank what was going on with his eyes when I became aware of the distinctive sound of a jet. The scream of its engines. The roar as it sliced through the air. It was Hank who saw it first.

 

“Above the trees to the north,” he said, but by the time I looked, the enormous aircraft was nearly overhead, perhaps a few hundred feet to the east. American Airlines.

 

“Looks like a Triple Seven,” Matt observed.

 

“It’s way too low,” I said as I looked at him. “No way.”

 

…the familiar roar of an approaching jet aircraft filled the air. Familiar, but much too loud. I instinctively looked up. A commercial jet was almost directly overhead and at an insanely low altitude. Goosebumps rose on my entire body and even as I watched, the jet slammed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center, enveloping the upper floors in a ball of flame…

 

Hank met my eyes and shook his head. “It’s headin’ right down Fifth, man. Oh no. Oh no. This ain’t happenin’.”

 

A feeling of dread washed over me and for several moments all that could be heard was the diminishing roar of the 777 as it disappeared beyond the high-rises of Midtown.

 

And then there was no sound at all.

 

Next Chapter: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14820-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-fifteen/

 

[Hanugumo]

Will Jamal ever be able to control that "god consciousness" that awoke in his mind? And keep his relationships between Matt and Hank? ='(

I doubt it, seeing as soon as he falls into that consciousness he forgets there names, the relationship between him & the two smaller studs. And also: How it seems to come more often and when it has come it gets harder for him to snap out of it.

I think that something really traumatic should happen to him to really drive home that he is not an almight god who doesn't care about his "slaves", but a godly human who is in a relationship with 2 guys who loves him very much and he loves them just as much. Maybe an accident should happen that he caused by accident where Matt and Hank would get hurt, hurt enough to need medical treatment.

And maybe after his realization that the most precious 2 people in his world were hurt because of him a sort battle between his godly self and his normal self inside of his head would happen. His human self finally standing up against his god self and saying that Matt and Hank are too important too him to forget and that he loves them, and that he wouldn't be here without them. His god self saying that he has over 7 billion other slaves and that 2 less slaves is inconsequential to him.

But somehow his human self wins the discussion and the god self submits to his Human self and from the moment on he will rememner his name and remember Matt and Hank as the loves of his life and be normal towards them AND care more about his other slaves' well-being as well. ^w^

[Fulano]

The answer will be revealed in the next few weeks! And many thanks for continuing to follow my friends for all this time :-)

[Hanugumo]

12 minutes ago, Fulano said:

The answer will be revealed in the next few weeks! And many thanks for continuing to follow my friends for all this time :-)

How could I not? This story is so awesome. ^w^ <3

Though I gotta admit that I do feel rather sad about the times Jamal goes god and forgets about his beloveds and break their hearts every time. ='( Especially when everytime they give him another chance that god persona comes back and ruins it all again. ='(

[Bear]

Nice to see you pick this up again and continue it!  Still a great story. 

[sssska]

Such a facinating story, cant stop reading it.

[Fulano]

... and instead of a few weeks it's been nearly a year :-(    Sorry guys.