sci-fi The Takeover

[belabarbell]

1.

The row of tanks stretched deeply into the cavernous recesses of the warehouse. In each tank, imposing bodies hung suspended in a transparent liquid, each one seemingly larger and more impressive than the last. The man in each tank appeared as yet another perfect specimen of athleticism, vascularity, and dominance. Indeed, this was as it should be, as Professional Solutions specialized in taking men at peak physical condition and improving them so much that the reputation of their three-month intensive program of suspended animation conditioning was known to most athletes in the world and many professional sports teams had sent their top players to the secretive, state of the art facility which no one really knew the exact location of unless they went into the program. Dr. Moravian knew that most of his "boys" returned to their home teams as H.A.M., huge alpha monsters. He had reported all his findings to his alien overlords. He was always rewarded for obeying their orders. They gave him what he desired, what he lusted after: power. If they wanted him to be their dog on a leash, he was happy to do it, so long as he exercised absolute control over his "boys".

 

He had reported the increased vascularity, size, strength and power, but above all their increased performance on the field. Football players once top dog on their teams were now literally machines, utterly focused on their gains and their game. Wrestlers appeared in tune with their opponent and excelled in dominating them, mentally and physically. Their shockingly bulging muscles helped. And they certainly helped PS, whose fame spread around the world as quickly as you could say “this time, you’re gonna swallow.” The overlords approved and prepared their takeover.

 

The plan consisted in releasing a substance containing tiny parasites with swarm consciousness into the bloodstreams of its thousands of grade A athletes and champions, turning them slowly into little else than docile, cum producing muscle bodies, whose cum contained tiny copies of the parasite, which quickly reproduced a clone of the host except more completely bound to the swarm.

 

Moravian was also bound to the parasites, having been the first "victim" (as he liked to see it, the parasites "released" him from bondage). This meant the Overlords could reward him in more direct ways, as well. Moravian, it turned out, had one of the largest cocks on any man in the world, and it was attached to a body only emblematic of the ethos of PS.

 

As he filed the latest updates, just such a "direct reward" was initiated. Moravian's gargantuan cock slithered from between his lab coat and, as if predestined, snaked its way into a receptacle under the terminal he was updating his "boys'" information on. The bulbous tip at the entrance gave way, and the grand cock continued don the warm, wet tube, whose spongy surface continually sucked him further in.  A prick on his steely shaft told Moravian the procedure was underway. This prick ensured that his parasite levels were of an absolute high grade: his "boys" always needed him at the top of his game!  His muscles bulged even wider, his cock grew larger and longer with the increased parasite load.

 

At the same time, a familiar sensation -- a gentle nudging at the lip of his cockhead. Moravian spread his arms behind his neck as the tube entered his dick. It crawled slowly down into his scrotum, where, as soon as it reached its designated point, a remote program initiated Moravian's orgasm. His parasite laden spunk was taken up by the hose and drawn to the individual tanks, where it entered into the nutritional devices secured to each athlete.

 

As they put this plan into motion and watched on their screens, the muscle flesh bodies occupying the tanks began slowly spasming and releasing blobs out of their dicks. These quickly grew into translucent balls and were picked up by small roving cranes, who moved them to an adjacent room to incubate. Here they quickly grew appendages, and became fully-fledged, yet pliant, musclebound beefcakes in fifteen minutes. These were put to various tasks depending on their particular host’s qualities. The lighter ones, swimmers, gymnasts, soccer players were put to work assisting in the reproduction facility (ie., the cum-draining facility) whereas the bulkier ones set about establishing the foundation upon which the total takeover of the planet would occur. Some went about constructing the facilities which would be used to create further reproduction centers. Others donned uniforms and prepared for a war against humanity.

After 48 hours, an army of 10,000 existed. After a week, the army was larger than any in the world. The plan was ready to implement…

2

The Steelers’ state of the art gym was packed. The team’s starting wide receiver, Rodney Vasquez, was finishing up a set of lethal squats when he noticed a crowd gathering near his station. He removed his headphones, silencing the pumping in his ear. He walked over to the crowd, and saw a rather humongous figure at the center of it. Whoever this was, he was huge! As Rodney approached the crowd, he tried to squeeze his way forward to get a better look, which his overdeveloped legs easily allowed him. When he got to the front, he was presented with literally one of the largest and most impressive specimens of masculinity he’d ever seen.

Suddenly, the huge figure locked eyes with Rodney, smiled and shouted his name. At this point, he recognized the bassa profundo as a deeper and indelibly richer toned version of his friend Stanley McMichaels, a linebacker who had some months ago been transferred to a training program none of the teammates knew much about, but which they’d all heard amazing things about. And here, in front of them, stood a testament to the wonders the program worked. Stanley was now by far the largest and most impressive player on the team, and his wide girth, huge legs and arms as if cut from granite in fact hid his slightly taller stature.  Rodney suddenly felt a huge wave of elation at seeing his friend in such amazing condition. He went to hug Stanley, and as the two commenced sizing another up, Rodney noticed a strange dullness in Stanley’s eyes. He didn’t have long to consider it, though, as the sense of elation he’d initially felt transformed quickly to euphoria. Rodney felt incredibly horny, and his cock quickly expanded in his jock. As he started losing self consciousness, he noticed he was cumming. The cum, much more than normal, quickly dribbled down his legs and formed a puddle between his feet. The puddle morphed into a sphere, and the sphere began rolling towards the trainer’s office. As he looked around in horror, he saw the crowd around him at various points of arousal, many experiencing earth-shattering orgasms as extreme as his own. Stains and puddles were forming all around, and one of his last recollections before becoming a permanent cum dispensary for improved and more muscular versions of himself was that he was growing!

The Steelers facility was soon complete, and built according to the blueprints of the alien overlords. The stadium was turned into a breeding ground, with tanks housing all the original players, their trainers, coaches and even some of the male cheerleaders producing a steady flow of mutant musclezombies to feed the growing army. The improved copy of Stanley McMichaels sent to convert the facility looked on in approval. As the huge muscular bodies in the tank churned out more and more cum, he flexed into the heavens. His huge back, traps and lats condensed into an intimidating display of power, and a remote signal sent from the overlords caused his stiff 11 inch member to visibly lengthen. As it did, it stretched upward between his rock hard abs, eventually sidling between his deep pec cleft. As it continued to grow upward, a bead appeared on the head of it. Stanley took his cock head in his mouth as he continued to flex for the heavens. Instantly, his enormous balls began filling his mouth with a delicious sauce that the clone swallowed down. He immediately began to grow, all of his musculature swelling obscenely, until he was nearly twelve feet tall and six feet wide.

He continued suckling and growing, greedily receiving his reward from the alien overlords for a conversion complete. His muscles bulged outward,, impossibly dense. As his now 2 foot long cock plopped out of his big mouth, he let out an animalistic roar that could be heard for miles.

The city would never know what hit it.

3

Greg Morrison was a competitive bodybuilder who took the “competitive” in his title very seriously. He had dedicated himself without abandon to his craft for over thirteen years, perfecting a technique that was without parallel. At least,until recently. A certain challenger by the name of Pedro Gonzales had appeared at Greg’s local gym, and had, within a few months, busted all of Greg’s old records on the benchpress, squats and anything else Pedro could get his hands, legs or other appendages around. The feeling of being scuttled from alpha dog to just beta enraged Greg, and so it was with a delicious air of inevitability that he latched onto the offer for a “three month intensive muscle conditioning program” that he’d seen an obscure flyer for in the changing room at the gym, at another one of his defeating sessions trying to keep up with Pedro.

So Greg had signed up, and in a few weeks he packed his duffel bag full of creams, vitamins, supplements and a few hours’ worth of chicken breast and rice, as he made his way on the train to the location of this “muscle conditioning program”. The prices were outrageous, but he’d heard so many swooning about the supposed results that his envy of Pedro overcame any cost-benefit analysis in this case. His cock was hard the whole way and he rubbed it through his sweatpants, looking idly out the window at the landscape lolling past. He thought of himself being larger and more impressive than Pedro, and this thought pushed all other reservations away for the time being. Once or twice he got awe-inspired stares as other passengers passed by the seemingly dazed muscle man in permanent arousal, overlarge member straining the loose material.

Eventually the train arrived, and he called a taxi to bring him to the address he’d been given. Once there, he looked for, and found an entrance, and rang the bell. Two of the most impressive specimens he’d ever seen, much bigger than either Pedro or himself, and yet cut to insane levels of perfection, greeted him. Their faces were chiselled, yet the magazine good looks did nothing to hide the dullness in their eyes. There wasn’t much going on up there, and it was obvious the two spent most of their focus on sculpting an insane physique, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the had trouble spelling “deltoid”. They both wore a “uniform” of what looked like a tight-fitting lycra shirt and compression pants, that did little to hide bulges worth writing home about. The two smiled stupidly at each other and at him, seemingly seeking approval that they were, in fact, “good boys” for having less fat on their bones than a low-calorie yogurt.

Hi!” said the one. “You must be Greg!”

Greg nodded and the stud was obviously pleased at his discovery, the cords in his neck bulged and his cock stirred a little in its dugout.

“Come in, dude!” said the other one, who introduced himself as Doug. The first one’s name was Matt, and the two had been old workout buddies who had joined the program together to advance their gains. The two had gained roughly 100 lbs of muscle in 3 months, they claimed, and flexed for Greg. Greg was especially impressed by Doug’s traps, which literally went to his ears., a huge pyramid to the only god in Doug’s life: muscle.

Greg, Matt and Doug joked around in the hallway for a few minutes until they heard a voice behind them:

“Boys, do bring Mr. Morrison to my office and don’t hold up his… progress.” The enormous man in the white coat introduced himself as Dr. Moravian, and he generously shook Greg’s hand. Dr. Moravian’s hands were strangely cold, but Greg shrugged it off. Either way, it matched his personality, which was certainly more chilled than the warmth that exuded from Matt and Doug, who resembled two overbuff lapdogs. Dr. Moravian led Greg to a small door on the corner of the hallway, with the wall of muscle following behind.

“As you can see from our boys here,” said Dr. Moravian, gesturing to the two muscleheads in the corner, “our results are dramatic and extraordinary. I’m sure these two have informed you of their gains while enrolled in the program?”

Greg nodded and the rest of the conversation went by in a blur. Greg agreed to enroll in the program, signing paperwork and nodding occasionally when questions were raised, but never taking his eyes off the delectable duo across from him. Dr. Moravian gave him a glass of something to drink, which he hardly heard him describe the nature of: something-something-electrolytes-something. He downed it, and was just about to put the glass down, when he froze. He couldn’t move! As if on cue, Doug moved over to his feet and began removing his sweatpants, revealing his jockstrap-covered bulge. Matt meanwhile moved over to his torso and applied pressure to his jaw, forcing his mouth open. While he felt something soft, hot and strangely wet on his asscheeks, Matt whipped his horse dick out of his compression pants and began slapping Greg in the face with it. While Doug was rimming Greg’s ass, preparing it for entry, Matt stuck his meat in Greg’s mouth and began pounding it, slowly at first, and then picking up speed. Suddenly, his asshole was exposed, and in one motion, Greg felt himself being speared to the hilt. Strangely enough to him, it didn’t hurt so much as it filled a deep longing in him to have a cock there. Doug began rocking and Matt picked up his pace. The two high-fived each other as they fucked Greg from both ends. Greg felt strangely aroused from the whole experience of being fucked by two ridiculously muscled studs, and his arousal increased as the two neared orgasm. The two came in unison, filling him with a liquid that burned as it spread inside him. His cock stood on end suddenly, and his whole body buzzed. He felt like he had an incredible gym pump, and felt himself swelling a bit. At the same time, his cock erupted by itself, and a hot, translucent goop collected in his corrugated abs. He strangely kept coming, it was the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced -- he didn’t want it to end -- and the goop began running down the table, collecting in a puddle on the floor. Unbeknownst to Greg, the puddle began forming into a blob, and the blob grew as he came more and more. Soon, a replica of Greg, identical in every way save for being much more densely muscled -- and taller --- and sporting a larger cock -- stood beside him. Greg could still not move, and at this point, his improved twin was chatting with Matt and Doug:
“Hey, what’s up, dudes?”

“Not much, brah. About to strap this sucker in and take him to the tanks. Wanna come?”

“Hell yeah, brah. Count me in!”

Matt went over to a cabinet and retrieved some folded clothes, which Greg’s bulkier clone put on: the same tight-fitting stretch shirt and compression pants the other two dimwitted musclestuds wore. As Greg II was dressing, Matt and Doug began strapping Greg I to the table, which converted to a gurney, which they pushed down the hallway towards to large doubledoors, from which could be heard a loud mechanical buzzing.

They passed through the doors and Greg, still immobile, was presented with an enormous warehouse filled with huge tanks, in most of which huge, strapping musclemen hung suspended in a liquid resembling glass cleaner. Attached to each one were hoses to his face and mouth, and another to his cock, and a third snaked up their asses. All of the men were at peak physical condition and each seemed to spasm every few seconds. Greg was wheeled to one tank that was not yet occupied, where he was unstrapped. A crane was activated that gently lifted the big man like a toy, and he was slowly lowered into the tank. The liquid felt warm, and it seemed to adjust itself to his body temperature. His facial mask lowered and attached itself to his head, and shortly thereafter he began feeling a strange sense of abandon and arousal. Just then, a tube snaked up his ass, which had been loosened earlier by Doug’s big python. It immediately began stimulating his prostate and injecting a special nutritional paste into his ass. He saw another device directing itself toward his cock and balls, and suddenly felt intense pleasure as it locked into place and began sucking him of his vital juices. Just then the parasites entered his mind via the special nutritional paste being injected into his ass and mouth, and he prepared to produce the second (of many) soldier offspring for the alien invasion.

Greg groaned in pleasure as he fed the tube what it wanted, bigger and more muscular than Pedro, finally!

[belabarbell]

4

Pedro Gonzales was a 23 year old wonderchild. At 275 pounds and 6 foot 2, he was a sight to behold. His body was a testament to perfection and hard won gains. Hard flesh bloomed out in all directions, and yet he still maintained a 28 inch waist. Watching Pedro workout made many straight men pop wood, considering the absolute devotion he seemed to display toward pumping iron, and the lengths he went to to ensure perfect form. Since he’d started at World Gym, he’d set his sights on one competitor, who’d mysteriously disappeared a few weeks ago.

“He probably couldn’t take the heat, Pedro thought. “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the gym!” he chuckled to himself, continuing his set of preacher curls with 80 lbs dumbbells. He grunted as he finished his last rep and let the weights drop back to the ground with a thud.

Pedro was so committed to his growth that about a year ago he’d started cycling on testosterone and growth hormone. It was his little secret. It sometimes gave him a thrill to juice while in the middle of an excruciating workout, as he planned to do at this moment. Pedro shuffled off to the locker room, and grabbed his duffel bag out of his locker, rummaging through its contents until he found what he was looking for. He made his way to a bathroom stall and shut the door behind him. He pulled out the syringe and the small bottle of juice he’d recently acquired. It was from a company that had only recently registered, and which supposedly promised both incredible results and no detection in blood tests. This suited Pedro fine, as he was in prime competition form, and didn’t need to be failing any tests soon. He poked the needle in the bottle and filled her up, found a spot on his hard abdomen where no veins protruded and proceeded to inject himself. He grunted as he felt the inevitable buzz. He always felt a bit aroused from this new stuff, but today, he was absolutely swimming. He leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling his cock escaping from his jock on its upwards course to his belly button. It was soon stretching above the seam of his pants, and it then popped over the threshold, into the cool air of the locker room toilet. Pedro’s head was spinning. He suddenly felt his cock between his pec muscles, a size his dick had never before achieved. He was riding too high to take much heed of this impossibility, however, and continued reeling in his euphoric bliss. Soon, he felt his cock bouncing against his chin with his pulse. He opened his eyes and his cock seemed to autonomously point itself upwards. He did what was natural and took his still expanding member in his mouth, swirled and flicked his tongue around and almost immediately reached a climax. He started pumping his juice down his throat. He felt himself swelling up almost immediately. He continued pumping out more and more cum, swallowing all of it down his throat, as though he were ravished by dehydration and his own cum were the clearest mountain spring.

Pedro’s brain seemed to be losing synapses. As he grew, he seemed to become aware of less and less, save for the fact that servicing the steely, hot faucet between his lips made his muscles expand and the bliss he experienced greater.  He barely heard the movement in the locker room. Suddenly, his stall door was knocked down, and before him stood the biggest man Pedro had ever seen.

“Whoa, brah--awesome!” said the behemoth.

Suddenly, he recognized the face as that of Greg, his great competitor, who’d disappeared a few weeks ago to visit some mysterious muscle program he could never afford himself. Well, the results spoke for themselves! Greg approached Pedro and removed Pedro’s dick from his mouth, replacing the dick with a feeding tube, and attaching a collector tube to Pedro’s cock, which continued to spurt the thick liquid down the tube. Before attaching the tube to Pedro’s dick, Greg caught one volley of cum in his own mouth, and grew visibly aroused from this, as his body expanded ever so slightly.

“Righteous!” he exclaimed.

World Gym was about to become the newest production facility for perfect replicas of Pedro. Each batch would be larger, dumber, and more enslaved to the dictates of Dr. Moravian and the hive, rippling zombie muscle slaves, all.

 

 

5

The success of the Steelers and the testosterone-soaked, sculpted brawn of the players, combined with their enthusiastic affiliation with Professional Solutions made the latter a hot topic in lockerrooms throughout the land. Guys fantasized about becoming as huge and muscular as Stanley McMichaels, Rodney Rodriguez and their many co-players, who had supposedly become imposing monoliths of various proportions since returning, en masse, from the PS program some months ago. They hadn’t lost a single game, and the players’ muscles literally bulged out of their -- newly tailored, tight -- uniforms, such that “steroids” and abuse became the phrase. But tests were resoundly negative, and other teams could just look on as the Steelers shafted them time and again.

Coach Jevons got off the phone with a sales agent for a new program -- they had been popping up like nuts of late in the sports world, as news of PS and its clients spread. These “PS rivals” offered results just as staggering, and players just as impressive as PS, and at a smaller cost as that prestigious firm! The BRUTE salesperson’s lumbering baritone and spartan vocabulary seemed to paint him as a further BRUTE product, yet something about his drawl seemed to scratch at the deepest surfaces of Jevons’ desires as a man and as a coach. He signed a deal with BRUTE for endorsement, in exchange for which he could put his entire varsity wrestling team through their rigorous month-long intensive training program.

“Yeah, man. Dude, you won’t even recognize your players when they return, brah,” said the sales rep, who said his name was Rich.

Coach Jevons was convinced, and gathered his team up before the next practice and told them the plan. They would each be excused from their classes while they underwent their month of special training. The athletes were all excited, and had spent the practices since the announcement was made in anticipated cackling about the  the prospects awaiting them.

When the day finally came, the guys all piled in a bus with their duffel bags in tow and rode off toward the airport. Their flight was headed for Texas, where they would be picked up and transported to BRUTE’s own facility.

***

The wrestling team rolled down the highway and the commotion in the bus buzzed around how life-changing this journey would be for them. Many were star-struck at prospects, and not a few hands reached for crotches to make excited adjustments as the bus bumped down the road to the facility. Jake Johnson was among the excited, and occasionally rubbed his tight chest in anticipation, almost giddy at having been just recently picked for varsity. He was obviously lucky, but his selection had been made after a summer of hard, disciplined training that had paid off, and the procedures he was about to undergo were his reward for reaching this stage of excellence. He’d seen many pictures of athletes returning from programs like BRUTE’s, and the results were nearly always phenomenal. Fairly well built guys typically came back enormous, muscles exploding everywhere, but typically fast and almost ridiculously dedicated to their game.

They arrived at the facility and were greeted by two giggling hulk jocks, Dave and Sean. Jake remarked how impressive the two looked, better than most professional bodybuilders he’d ever seen. He wondered if he’d  ever get a chance to look that ripped. As if on cue, Dave looked over at Jake, winked and flexed his arm a bit.

The boys were taken to a juice bar, manned by an even more impressive giant who looked like his traps had traps of their own.

“You all must be hungry,” said the giant, who introduced himself as Quame. “I made something special for you all. And after you all drink up, Dave and Sean will meet y’all in the gym for your first training session.”

Quame handed each man a large cup with a fruity colored beverage in it. He explained it was a special cocktail that contained all the phytonutrients and minerals they’d need for the growth they expected in the next month. The athletes greedily drank up. The taste was fruity, and the drink was thick. The drink gave them a buzz, and a buzz that directed their attention to the state of the art gym the juice bar overlooked. As he headed down, Jake almost felt a longing to go down and pump his muscles up. Each man was set up at a machine and they began what would become a killer workout for everyone.

 

Jake noticed he was pushing much more weight than normal, and felt the reps going much slower than he was accustomed to, as if his body wanted to savor each additional pound. After the workout, they all had a huge pump going, and went to the mats to wrestle. Jake was wrestling Joey, who was also new on the varsity team, and Jake continually noticed Joey’s cock was hard as a flagpole as they wrestled. He kept accidentally grabbing it as they wrestled, or so he thought at least. The drink and the pump from the gym were clouding his judgment. Before he knew it, Joey was on top of him, sitting on Jake’s chest. Perhaps surprising them both, Joey freed his cock from his singlet, and in one movement, shoved it -- head and all -- into Jake’s throat. Jake, shocked at the action and somewhat buzzed by the drink still, relaxed his throat muscles instinctively to accommodate Joey’s hard tool. This continued for a few moments, while the sounds of sweaty bodies slapping against each other continued around them. Joey rocked on Jake’s chest for a bit, his cock slipping into and down Jake’s throat. Joey suddenly pivoted around, freeing Jake’s cock in one fell movement, and, taking this in his mouth, began pumping it with his throat. The two were in complete elation, and totally in disregard of all the action happening around them.

 

As it happened, the drinks they’d gulped down so hungrily in the juice bar contained trace elements of the parasites that had been responsible for so many muscle transformations of late. These reproduced in the cum of the victim, and took over their mental and motor faculties. The sideproduct of the takeover was the dramatic increase of muscle tissue in the victims. This process was strengthened exponentially with the introduction of foreign infected cum, something Jake and Joey were about to discover. The two came together, the parasites in their brains making them relish and swallow the cum spraying in their throats now. The two began to visibly grow, their pectorals. shoulders and asses stretching the thin material of their singlets. As they continued to grow, their cocks elongated, becoming more efficient spigots at shooting cum directly in the other’s stomach. For ten minutes this went on, all around being replicated by their teammates each reduced to being little else than 300 lbs. cum repositories for their partner.

 

Suddenly, Dave and Sean could be seen, removing guys' elongated cocks from their partners’ mouths and placing these in tubes dangling from the ceiling. The dicks in their mouths they replaced by separate tubes that fed them the fruity paste they had before tasted. And so each man continued to moan and cum, pumping volley after volley into the tube, creating countless muscular copies of themselves in the facility. These men were useless for little else, and it would be (dumbed down) copies of themselves that would be sent back to take over their campus, as BRUTE, which also ran Dr. moravian’s bidding, had done to countless other campuses all over the world. The takeover was almost complete..

[BaraFiend]

Great story! You write well, at least in my opinion, and the story itself seemed, to me at least, interesting and free of major cliches. My only complaint is that it isn't longer, but that really isn't so much a criticism as it is a reflection to read more of your stories, based on the two I've read so far. (Just curious, are those stories completely independent?) Sorry I don't have anything too helpful to say. I just figured that it was about time someone commented on one of your stories, so if I have to be the one to do that (and likely make a fool of myself in public as a result) then so be it. Welcome to the site (or perhaps welcome back) and I hope to read more of your stories! 

[belabarbell]

Regarding the length: it's a work in progress. I decided to post it here for vanity's sake, I suppose. I am working on the… sixth? chapter at present, though I will likely increasingly be putting it away, for the time being, until the end of next month, as more pressing matters impose themselves on me.

[BaraFiend]

Regarding the length: it's a work in progress. I decided to post it here for vanity's sake, I suppose. I am working on the… sixth? chapter at present, though I will likely increasingly be putting it away, for the time being, until the end of next month, as more pressing matters impose themselves on me.

Totally understandable. "Real world" stuff can't be ignored, after all. Just wanted to make sure I made it clear that if you posted more stuff like this, then I'd be happy to read it (since that's all I really can do). Sorry if this post was a tad redundant. Hope the stuff you are working on is fulfilling, rather than a burden you don't like dealing with.

[belabarbell]

6

 

A military gym somewhere outside of Reno.  Sergeant First Class Jack Riker began his second set of skullcrushers for the day. The gym was not too full at this time of day, as most of the enlisted men were in some form of training and the officers got their own gym. THe perks of being a petty officer. Sergeant Riker counted out the reps and grunted at last, lifting the weight as he rose at the waist. He was recovering when he heard a commotion at the front of the gym.

“Atten-hut!” he heard coming from the service desk. This meant a ranking officer had entered the premises. Before he could ask why in God’s name a CO was headed for the grunt gym, his instincts got the better of him. He swerved toward the sound and stood at attention.

In rode the strangest sight Riker had ever seen: being propped up on a dais by enormous soldiers was a magnificent man in glowing skin , wearing a crown befitting of Arthur. On the dais with him, two beasts slurped and serviced the king’s biblical cock.

“Have the preparations on site been made for the transfer?” the king shouted reverentially, as one of the two smooth musclegods on their knees in front of him deepthroated his enormous tool and the other lapped at his equally grandiose balls.

“Yes, Dr.  Moravian, Master.” said the gym attendant, blithely, who just 45 minutes ago had taken Riker’s card with his typical smugness.

“Excellent, subject,” commented Moravian, who reached his powerful arms into the air, pointed his scepter at the attendant and said “Be rewarded for thy obedience!”

As he said this, what appeared to be a light emanated from the scepter and began engulfing the attendant’s body. This exploded in size and power, tearing the shorts and Tshirt of which his uniform consisted to shreds. His body glowing with vigor and potency, the naked behemoth dropped to his knees in awe and gratitude.

“My Lord, how may I ever repay this debt?”

“Rise, loyal subject, and mount the dais. We shall see how you may serve the Emperor!”

With that, the monster of a man rose and ascended the dais, where the two worshippers made room for the new supplicant, who knelt before the ruler and took his cock in mouth, his new handsome mouth and throat fitting perfectly over the enormous member.

“Now we shall see your usefulness to the Emperor” said Moravian, easily lifting the newly big man by the arms and flipping him around and impaling him onto Moravian’s huge cock. Two things instantly happened: the gym attendant swelled up further than before, becoming a giant gorilla of a man with arms as thick as most men’s waists. And, a strange vibration -- a wave or light of sorts -- emanated from the man, as his cock erupted in huge spurts. It surrounded Sargeant Riker and he was immediately overwhelmed by an overpowering desire to submit to this huge new muscle creation, to climb between his (its?) prostrate legs and feel those overflowing drooping bull balls sticking to his chin as he worshipped the bulbous tip of the now superlative lance adorning the creature’s torso. It made his cock strain incredibly hard against his cup.

Sergeant Riker, already worked up from  a long workout, came in his rubber cup as he submitted to this ultimate satisfaction and bliss. The orgasm was intense and enduring a feeling he could easily submit to, if a creature powerful enough to serve it to him at will existed. As Riker's desire for free will left him, something else was happening. Like bloodhounds on the trail, the men surrounding Moravian shifted their (vacant) gazes towards Riker, and, as he was regaining focus, began bounding towards him at inhuman speeds. Riker, still somewhat dazed, but generally possessing an above average F-F-F (fight-flight-fuck) instinct dashed for the back door. He tripped over a loose weight someone had forgotten to re-rack (a mortal sin Riker thought), and the muscular goons neared. As they did, his anxiety rose, as did his desire to give them… his cum? If him creaming his jock had put them on his trail… what if? Before regarding the idea with a cost/benefit analysis he ripped his jock from his shorts and threw it in the far corner. The goons were indeed put off. Riker got up and ran out the back door and into a backstreet on the base’s bright sunlit expanse.

“What the fuck?” Riker thought. The strangest thing about the situation was his -- rather erotic -- reaction to that scene. That scene…

Before giving it more thought, Riker thought it best to get the hell out of there, and so he ran to the nearest building -- the rec center swimming facilities -- and was shocked at what he saw.

[Aronymous]

(Why) did you change the text color? Unreadable for those with the darker forum theme.

[morphedmaverick]

Text color is fine for me must your settings

[belabarbell]

(Why) did you change the text color? Unreadable for those with the darker forum theme.

I actually didn't change anything, but I saw that th text was indeed set to "black". I set it to "default" now, so it should be fine.

[belabarbell]

7.

 

There, in the center of the pool area was a maze of mysterious equipment submerged underwater. Tubes and wires ran out of the water in every conceivable direction, some attached to a number of large tanks in one far corner. It looked like a huge industrial accident had occurred at the pool. Riker was about to turn and run the other way when he caught movement in the corner of his eye. He glanced and saw a hulking shape protruding out of the water. He saw a patch of black hair on a head attached to impossibly wide shoulders capped with epic traps hugging a burly neck ascending the stairs on the far end of the pool. Even from that distance, Riker could see the water running down the back of what could only be described as a perfect specimin of swoleness. The wide back, the narrow waist, the pronounced glutes, all ascending upwards on impossibly sturdy and thick legs. The thing raised its arms above its head majestically, and Riker -- who had been unabashedly looking on this whole time -- felt a pronounced need to submit to this superior being as his knees became weak. At the same time, seemingly far off, he heard the door behind him slam, and felt two strong pairs of hands grab him on either side. As he was pushed forward towards it by the two goons he had just been evading, the creature turned round. The wave of submission he'd felt before grew stronger, the creature's arms still raised, its huge, hairless pits emitting some powerful pheromone that was overriding every bit of sense Riker had left in him.

And then he looked at its face, and his knees buckled. The two goons dragged him further. Riker was awestruck as he was dragged before… himself. The naked glorious creature that had emerged from the pool and which was now overpowering him with its musk was none other than himself. But bigger. Thicker. More impressive. Better. More desirable. Stronger. Harder. He knew that his -- larger -- copy was somehow implanting these feelings in his brain, but he could not help but feel that every word of it was true.

He was finally thrust in front of his gargantuan clone, and, from on his knees, Riker II looked even more impressive. Comically large calves led up to outrageous quads trailing further up to a deeply corrugated “roof” of abs. Before being able to glance up further at the painfully grandiose chest, Riker was pulled, via the ab flexors, to the “bait and tackle” his clone sported. Riker II’s balls -- easily the size of ripe grapefruits -- were so full the skin around the sac was translucent and one could see the blood vessels pumping around each ball. Obscuring this view was an enormous hose that drooped at least a foot to cover a good portion of those healthy balls.

Riker was giddy from all the pheromones and the impossibility of the situation. Suddenly, RIker II lowered one arm and, fondling his huge -- but flaccid -- tool, said “Do you desire this?” although his speech -- a deep, rumbling baritone -- worked more like a dick at his prostate and a tongue on his cock.

“oh,” groaned Riker in response, “yeah that’s good.”

Riker II lowered his other huge arm, placing it on Riker’s head.

“In order to be modified, you must receive the gift” the behemoth’s voice lapped at his erogenous zones. “You must give up certain freedoms so that others may partake in the blessings the gift provides.”

Riker moaned and grunted like a bitch in heat, his mind already lost to the colossus of muscle before him. Riker II placed his thumb in Riker’s mouth. Riker sucked at it feverishly. Riker II then guided his -- growing -- member toward Riker’s mouth.

Riker engulfed as much of it as he could, which was not more than the bulbous head, and began slurping around the tip. His tongue was able to slide around the slit, and, as a result, his machinations became more and more deranged as the potent serum in the clone’s pre took root. In addition to making him cock crazy, the serum worked to relax his throat muscles, so as he sucked and hummed around the cock, more and more of it slipped into his mouth and down his throat. Some of it ran down his face and neck, and the pool area in general smelled of sex and sweat.

As he stared up into Riker II’s blank, listless eyes -- soulless eyes that seemed to suggest “I am but a shell, an unbelievably muscular, endowed as fuck shell”, Riker felt himself giving into the image. He gave into the huge, protruding pecs, the unabashedly enormous arms, the epicly wide back, the quads supple beyond measure, and finally, to the larger than life cock now ramming down his throat and to the virile, potent -- maybe even comically large balls jettisoning wildly around his chin and neck.

Riker spontaneously shot his load, without ever having touched himself. Instantly, the two goons around him dove to the ground and began lapping up the mess. Riker II; seing the first stage of the task complete, switched modes and stopped pumping his cock in and out of Riker’s mouth. With his cock resting balls-deep in Riker’s gullet, he said, “with this gift, we shall be as one,” and proceeded to unload into Riker. And unload. And unload. RIker could feel the cockhead opening up and unleashing volley after volley of clone cum into his innards, which felt as though they were being painted in a coat of warm, rich paint.

And suddenly, his own orgasm went into overdrive. His cock stretched to its maximum length, fully engorged, and shot blast after endless blast onto the tile floor and the goons below, who were now switching between licking the tile floor and sucking directly from the source.

Riker II slowly pulled his still engorged member from RIker’s mouth, a long trail of drool, cum and other liquids trailing the head as it popped out of Riker’s mouth. He reached down towards Riker, and -- smiling ever slightly -- reached between his arms and picked him up easily. In one fell swoop, the clone had thrown his “father” into the pool. Here, the murky warm water surrounded him in a comfortable glow, and he felt himself suddenly spasming, the chemicals in the water starting a chain reaction. He could not breathe in the water, but the pleasure of his sustained orgasm was too overwhelming to worry about such trivialities.

As if on cue, hoses moved and shifted around and under him, finding various body parts and attaching themselves there. One found his cock, attaching itself loosely and begining to siphon his now more potent sperm away. Another covered his mouth and nose and allowed him to breathe again. A nerve gas also elicited pleasurable responses and further accelerated the growth he was experiencing. Riker felt heavy everywhere, despite being suspended in a saline mixture. As he looked down, he saw that his arms were exploding in muscle growth. His thighs felt wider, his back expanded, pushing his arms further out. All his wildest muscle fantasies were coming true before his eyes in the murky water of the pool and all he had to do to enjoy this incredible power was become a cum slave! What a deal!

Riker at last felt the hose constricting his cock slightly. As he looked down, he saw that it was now identically large as his clone’s. His balls were also rapidly inflating, despite the fact that he was still cumming! “Find me more pledges! ” he communicated as he raised his arms behind his head in the suspension, and a last hose found his ass, snaking its way in to stimulate his prostate..

 

Riker II looked on in pride, and proceeded to Riker’s quarters to retire: converting his “father” had been a draining experience, and he needed to quickly regenerate more of the potent serum if the plan was to succeed!