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1 minute ago, Kymuscleboy said:

The fact that you think any tip I could give you would make you a better writer is high praise indeed! Yes, your attention to detail is a big part of what makes your writing so excellent. Now that you mention it, there is something very appealing about the very rich man liking the working class drink. I just had to take the opportunity to mention my state's most significant contribution to world culture, which I'm pretty sure derives from Irish whiskey way back the line anyway.  If it's good enough for Judi Dench as "M," it can't be all bad. 

It's a point of pride for us in Kentucky, when we really don't have that much to crow about. Well, we did give the gifts of Muhammad Ali, Jennifer Lawrence and George Clooney to the world. So, I guess we're not doing too  bad for a little state. 😀

And being a man born and raised in the state just south of you, I can respect all that pride.  Southern gentlemen rock, if I do say so myself (no offense to men from any other part of the States intended).  

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Part Four   


“How ‘bout a second one, barkeep, and don’t be stingy,” Mr. Dennis said with the kind of look in his eyes that involuntarily made my ass cheeks squeeze together.  “Let’s call it fuel for the hard play to come.”


My hands shook a little from my excitement as I poured another bountiful glass of whiskey for the elder stud.  I knew he’d be feeling the effects of the sleeping potion soon.  I was beyond happy with the way Mr. Dennis had downed his first glass.  It was as if he knew what was to come and he wanted it to get there fast, too.  This time he sipped his drink, but I noticed the sips were quite big.  I needed to orchestrate some things pretty quickly, if I was going to have him set up for the change.


“Shall we move to the bedroom, sir?” I asked, winking at the man.


“You don’t beat around the bush, do you, son.  The bedroom sounds nice, Thomas.  I’m suddenly feeling the effects of this Black Bush.  I must be turning into a lightweight.”


“We’ll soon be changing that, sir.”


“What was that, Tommy-boy?” he asked and his words slurred a little.


I realized the man was definitely not feeling like himself, for as we walked to the master bedroom he didn’t put his now very familiar hand at the small of my back.  As a matter of fact, I had to guide him a little as we got closer to the bed.  I was able to take the glass from his hand right before he fell face first on the king-sized mattress.  He rolled over and started trying to undo his belt.


“Gonna power drive you like a . . . like a . . . I don’t know what it will be like . . . but it will be hard . . . and feel so . . .”


His hands fell to his side.  His eyes were closed.  And his breathing instantly became deep and long.  He was out for the count.   I needed to make sure, though.  I knelt spread eagle over his waist and – after saying ‘forgive me, sir’ – I slapped him pretty hard on his cheek.  No reaction whatsoever.  The man was in such a deep sleep even a hurricane wouldn’t have awakened him.  I wasted no time, I wanted to inject the formula before I panicked or had second thoughts.  I unbuttoned his shirt and stopped for a minute to gaze at the nicely gray-furred, semi-firm pecs of the gorgeous man.  I ran my hands across his chest hair, imagining what it would feel like when the thing was monstrous and harder than stone.  I was impressed that Mr. Dennis still had some partially defined abs – definitely no dad-bod for this man.  I got his shirt off and then finished undoing his belt.  I pulled his pants and boxers (that was a surprise) down at the same time.  His thick, long tool and hairy balls caught me totally off guard.  I realized at that moment that, although he had fondled my cock all night long, I hadn’t ever reached over to his crotch to discover the man was packing a more than ample tool.  It was surrounded by thick salt-and-pepper curly pubic hair and the instant aroma of sweaty balls made me want to bury my face down there.  I refrained, removed his shoes and socks and then pulled his pants and underwear completely off.  The man’s beautiful naked body lay on my bed like a virgin being offered to the gods.


“Damn, Mr. Dennis, you’re already hot as hell.  Just imagine what you’re going to look like when you’re as big and muscled as Lou Ferrigno or even bigger.” 


I went to the bathroom and retrieved all the tools for the injection.  Within a few minutes I was injecting his thigh with the neon-blue formula I had waited so long to use.  It suddenly dawned on me that I should have left his clothes on so I could witness them being ripped to shreds as he grew, but then I thought about the fact that he probably wouldn’t want to ruin them.  Then I hit myself in my head because he’d never be able to wear them again, anyway.  I was now in unchartered territory.  I had done such a fantastic job of planning and imagining what I would do up to this point that I hadn’t ever really thought about what I might do after the injection.  My projections told me I had a few hours before anything would begin.  I propped a pillow under his head and went back to the kitchen to pour me another double shot of whiskey.  This time I didn’t use water or ice.  I went back and sat on the bed – rubbing Mr. Dennis’ hairy leg as I sipped my drink.


“I hope you like your new size and strength, sir.  It’s just that you’re everything I could have ever dreamed for in a man.  God, the sight of you, now, even before the change, makes me hard as hell.  Big, man-sized penis, orange-sized balls, furry tight body, and a face like a grampa angel – what’s not to love?  It’s just that I want to give you more . . . well, I want to give us more.  I want you to be like my senior-aged Hercules, my muscled master who will keep me in my place and empower me at the same time.  I just want a huge daddy – is that so wrong?  And who am I talking to, anyway?”


I looked back down at the body of the quiet, still man – knowing that the formula was presently beginning its miraculous work as I sat there.  The way the stuff would change was very technical and what some people would call magical, but it really just boiled down to cell enhancement and restructuring.  He’d become thicker, which would make him become bigger, which would make him become stronger, which would turn him into a sexy gray-haired behemoth beyond heavyweight bodybuilding size.  He’d even outsize and out power those huge powerlifters who carried huge round stones to show off.  I imagined Mr. Dennis juggling with some of those stones.  That thought led to me downing my whiskey, going to the kitchen to get another one, returning to the bedroom and then undressing.  I pulled the big reading chair over by the window beside the bed, so I could sit there and have a front-row view of the changes.  I sipped my drink and found that my gaze kept returning to Mr. Dennis’ cock.  It dawned on me that I wanted it to grow first – how predictable of a gay man, right?  The idea of that already gorgeous thick tube of beef getting bigger, thicker, more powerful made me start stroking my own cock.  I realized my admiration of the man’s lower parts had made me finish my third, hefty-sized whiskey.  I was now completely buzzed, fully erect, and feeling too far away from my older soon-to-be superman.  I moved to the bed and laid down beside him.  It would be fun to feel the growth as well as watching it.  I put my head on his gray-furred chest and listened to his strong heartbeat.  My hand had found its way to his thick meat and I was tugging at it without even thinking.  I felt Mr. Dennis getting hard and laughed to myself – of course this virile elder man would be able to produce a hard-on even when he was strongly drugged.  I continued to fondle him and he continued to get fully hard.  The sound of his heart, the heat generated by his body, and the feeling of his thick, hard meat in my hand made me relax more than I ever had in my entire life – I felt so secure and safe – and so within minutes I was fast asleep.    


To awaken from dreams of the man of your dreams growing huge and knowing that his giant body will be next to you is the sweetest feeling in the world.  To realize that your new life – the one you always wanted starts today gives you the desire to make the moment – that life-changing instant – last forever.  But at the same time, you really want to take in all the wonderful enhancements that have taken place while you foolishly fell asleep and missed the show.  I blamed the whiskey and the fact that I consumed way too much of it.  I also blamed how comfortable my dream man’s warm body had felt and the fact that I could fondle his gorgeous dick as I slipped off into another world.  There were so many sensations to soak up at the same time.


“Good morning, sexy.”


The warmth of that now familiar voice matched the warmth of the body beside me, which didn’t come close to matching the heat from the hard dick in my hand.  The hard, normal-sized dick in my hand!  I sat up quickly and gazed down at the beautiful elder-man body of Mr. Dennis.  The body that looked the same as it had from last night – still sexy as hell, but not enhanced, not super-muscled, not bigger than the bed frame.  My mind spun out of control.  My entire being suddenly went off kilter.  I couldn’t control myself and my face betrayed me – it burst into a look of total disappointment and shock that my formula had not worked.  My entire faith in myself – in my abilities – as well as my total unbridled excited anticipation of a huge man being in my body came crashing down in an instant.  In a series of unfortunate results – Mr. Dennis’ hard-on deflated quickly, the man read my face as a look of horror that I had ended up in bed with him, and the guy suddenly realized he didn’t remember the night after a certain point.  I was too self-absorbed in my disbelief that my calculations had been wrong that I didn’t notice any of this.  Mr. Dennis was off the bed in a flash – gathering up clothes. 


“I’ve seen that look before, kid.  Alcohol and nighttime made you think you were into an old man, but the morning brings a dose of shocked reality.  I’m so sorry to disappoint your drunk fantasies, Thomas.”


“You’re the same,” was all I could say at that moment, I was still immersed in my utter disbelief that my calculations were wrong.


“What does that mean?” the older man asked, stopping mid-way as he pulled on his pants.


His slight angry tone snapped me back to the present moment in a flash.  I quickly registered all that had been misconstrued and said up to that moment.  I also knew I needed to save this moment.  I needed to keep this man in my life.  I needed to make a new formula.  My brain multi-tasked as I started to talk – assuming immediately that I had stored the formula for too long.  It had gone bad.  That’s what the problem had been.  Homemade potions don’t have expiration dates, but clearly mine had lost all of its ‘juice,’ so to speak.  That was the logical explanation for my clear, accurate calculations not working.  I, however, needed to save the moment happening presently in my bedroom.


“You’re still the same . . .  gorgeous man I fell asleep with last night,” I quickly said and I saw Mr. Dennis’ shoulders relax.  “I’m so disappointed we both fell asleep.  I blame you . . . and that blasted whiskey.”


“Come to think of it, I can’t believe I didn’t hold my liquor better – I usually don’t have any problem.  Why am I undressed and you are not?”


“After you passed out I decided I should be able to . . . you know . . . gaze and fondle the beautiful merchandise,” I said, trying my best to sound all sexy and in no way creepy.


“You slut!  Taking advantage of an old man,” Mr. Dennis replied, letting his pants slide back down to his feet and then moving onto the bed.


The man kissed me hard – clearly, all was forgiven.  We were back on track.  The kiss was as toe-crunchingly good as the night before.  He semi-growled as we sucked face and it was, again, a sound that thrilled me to no end – even if I longed for it to be much deeper because he was much bigger.  That would all have to wait, I’m afraid.  He pulled his face away from mine and glanced at his watch.


“I was hoping for a quickie, Thomas, but I just realized how late it is.  I actually have a yoga class I teach at 2:00pm.  I need to run, I’m afraid.  I hope you can forgive me for zoning out like that, last night.  It’s not my style and never happens.  How might I make up for it?”


“Well, yoga explains the tight body and the flexibility,” I said, making him smile.  “You could make up for it by coming back here for dinner . . . tonight?”  I said and then tensed up with worried anticipation of what his answer might be.


“I’d love to.  I’ll bring the wine, handsome,” he answered, smiling and kissing me again.  “Now, I really must go.  So sorry to have to dash.”


“It’s not a problem,” I said, “It will give me time to prepare a new . . . um . . . recipe.”


I almost said formula.  I knew that I had everything here that I needed to make another batch.  I knew it would take a while, but I could do it.  Since it was still the weekend, I took the chance that Mr. Dennis would be able to make it another late night.  I needed about five hours.


“Would eight o’clock be too late?  You’re more than welcome to stay over, Mr. Dennis.”


“You are a little slut, Thomas.  Of course, eight will be fine.  I’d love to stay over and try this again…”


“Exactly what I was thinking.”


“I’ll bring a toothbrush for the morning.”


“Maybe a new one, so you could just leave it here,” I suggested, making the now fully-dressed man really smile as he bent down to kiss me, again.


“Calling a Lyft,” he said and pulled out his phone.


I followed him to the front door as the arrangements were made.  Luckily, there was a driver two-minutes away.  We stood in the foyer and kissed even more passionately than all the times before.  I was full of extreme excitement because I had not totally missed my chance with this perfect man.  We would be together, in the way I wished to be, very soon.  I missed him, immediately, as he made his way down my driveway to the waiting car.  After shutting the door, I jumped into motion to get the formula done early – so I’d have time to fix a meal, as well.  It was going to be a jam-packed afternoon.  Four hours later, my phone rang and I saw it was the dream man.  At first, I panicked that he was calling to cancel, so I answered quickly – just to find out as fast as I could why he was calling.


 “Hello, Mr. Den…” I began, but was instantly interrupted.


“What did you do to me?” said a voice so deep and growling that it instantly made my balls tighten.  “Get over here.  I can’t even leave my place because I have no clothes that will fit me.  I’d have to wear a bed sheet.  You have some explaining to do, Thomas.  I keep breaking things.”


The phone then went dead.  I instantly knew it had been crushed by an untrained powerful hand.  Luckily, we had discussed where he lived the night before and we had even put addresses into our phones.  That’s how confident we had been that the relationship would grow, or maybe it was just the Borolo wine making us hopeful.  At this point, I wasn’t thinking about anything but getting to the man’s house as fast as I could – without getting a ticket or causing a wreck.  I somehow managed to cut a twenty-five-minute trip down to fifteen.  It was the longest quarter of an hour of my entire life.  I was at his front door and ringing the bell in what seemed like only two steps.  I heard heavy, hot-sounding thuds as someone or something big moved toward the door inside. 


There was no one at the door when it opened, but then, suddenly, what appeared to be a giant’s huge hand and even more humongous arm came from the side, grabbed me by the front of my shirt, and lifted me across the threshold into the dark foyer.  The door shut behind me – closed by another arm that seemed way above my head.  Curtains were drawn on all the windows so it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, but when they did I was stunned beyond belief.


“Sweet fucking hell!”     


“Don’t you sweet fucking hell me, Thomas!” the mega beast in front of me bellowed deeply as he tightened the giant paw at the front of my shirt and lifted me off the ground – shaking me so hard that I flopped around like a fish caught on a hook.  “Did you do this to me?”


“Yes sir.”


“Is it permanent?”


“Yes sir.”




“I made you into my dream man . . . I mean - physically . . . you were already my dream man on the inside.  Only, I never dreamed you would turn out this amazing!”

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Instant hard on!  Oh man so worth the wait!  Londonboy, you are a creative genius.  I need to reread for round two.😀

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That was intense! I can't wait for the actual description of how big he is. And hopefully, since it appears he was awake for the change, he will describe his growth in exquisite detail. 😀

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