transformation Charlie

[m3atpuppet]

Apparently, not soon. Please come back to this one. Please?

[Guest]

Really hope to see one more chapter where they compete with each other

 

[panama]

I wouldn´t mind doing the job if the author says it´s ok...

 

[HugestFuckGod]

It's so rare to find a story like this. 

It's really trurly a story! Not just a internet rub one out session but an actual story! So thank you! Can wait for the next chapter

[panama]

Here goes another installment of Charlie. I hope the original author (Dhalden) is ok with that, as he didn´t manifest his opposition (or encouragment) in this forum. 

English is not my mother tongue, so sorry for the mistakes. 

 

 

Brian opened the door. It seemed to me that he was slightly shorter, as my eyes had to go down a little bit to meet his.

 

“I´m glad you thought about coming back, Andy. Welcome.”

 

“Thanks”, I said, and I stood still.

 

“Come in, please.” Brian turned his back and went to his desk. I closed the door.

 

“Take a seat. So, have you been on holiday ?”

 

I was surprised to hear that question: “no, not at all. Why ?”

 

Brian (his big “I´m your friend" smile on display:) “you look tanned”.

 

“I go out for a run from time to time. We live in California, remember ?”, I said.

 

Brian sighed. “Ok”, he resumed, “did you think about what we discussed during the last session ?”

 

He´s wearing the same shirt. The same pinstriped collared shirt beneath a heavy knit sweater with suede elbow patches... Maybe it is his therapy uniform, I thought with a smirk.

 

“Andy ?”

 

“Sorry... Yes, I think about that last session every day.”

 

Brian looked surprised, and he was not the kind of person to be easily surprised: “really ? Well, tell me...”

 

“You said I had begun to workout to become physically stronger in order to compensate the fact that I was not emotionally strong. Isn´ it ?”

 

Brian shifted in his chair: “well, we can discuss about that.”

 

He´s so skinny. What a shame, I thought. I felt my biceps hardening while making a fist with one hand. With the other, I was touching the narrow straps of the posers I wore under my jeans.

 

Brian tried to bring my attention back, making contact with my eyes through his cute glasses.

 

“Andy, I think you´re a sensitive and brilliant person. But sometimes you live in your own bubble. Don´t hide beneath your reveries...”

 

My posers were bright, bright liquid metal colour. I was so sensitive those days that the mere touching of the fabric made my fuck pole stiff.

 

“Brian ? I have a very precise question to make.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“I´m stronger. It´s not a dream. Do you want me to show you ?”

 

Brian tried to stare back to me in the eye, but he couldn´t help and instead had a look on my overstuffed jeans. My thighs had developped so much that now I had trouble with regular fitted jeans; you could follow the line of my quadriceps through the filmsy tissue. Brian saw I was playing with the straps of the posers.

 

“Are you gonna swim afterwards ?”

 

I woke-up from the chair and bypassed the desk. Brian didn´t make a noise. “Those are called posers. Let me show you.” Brian hesitated. I unbuttoned the jeans.

“It´s not...” Then he saw my tanned, shaved, ripped, dense thighs and he didn´t speak a word. I made another step, turned a little so he could see my carved calfs. But his eyes were transfixed on the posers: my 8 and a half semi-hard, fat cock, was proudly nested within, clearly showing-off.

 

“Yeah ! You´ve noticed, too.” I rotated towards Brian, tensed all my muscles, making a river of veins criss-cross the paper-thin skin of my lower-bod. I pulled up my posers with pride and inhaled: “that´s the stuff.”

 

“Andy, it´s ok.”

 

I took off my jeans, removing quickly my shoes and socks.

 

“Andy, you don´t have to...”

 

“I didn´t show you yet. Wake-up.” It was harsh. It was an order.

 

Brian complied immediatly. His pencil fell to the ground.

 

I made another step toward him. He was at my chin level but it is like he had physically shrinked. I tensed my body once again, feeling the energy and strength in it.

 

“I´m not going to hurt you, Brian. “ He was looking down. I took him by the collar of his clothes, shirt and sweater. With my left hand, I picked him up, straight up. All the distance of my arm up. My bicep strained; dense, heavy, powerful. Brian was getting hard. His dick was making a little crease on the trouser. Then he tried to accomodate it by a kneel movement, but it became more obvious. I let him down.

 

He was panting. His hardon was visible. His dick was at full mast. He tried to hide it with his notebook.

 

“Now you know what my 20 inches bicep can do.”

 

I began to open my shirt. “Do you still think I live in a dream bubble ?”

 

He didn´t answer.

 

“Right now you want this so bad”. I smiled, pointing my deep, carved, tanned eight-pack.

 

“I´m sorry, Andy. This is not right. It´s not professional.”

 

“Go ahead. Come on. You know you want to.”

 

Brian got to his knees. He closed the gap between us akwardly. I didn´t budge. My cock was ready to be worshiped. Soon it was on Brian´s mouth. He sucked eagerly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Aronymous]

Writing someone elses story is kind of not-done.

[morphedmaverick]

If the author hasnt posted permission then you don't write a chapter, if this was in the continuous story section it would be fine but it's not.

Way beyond not cool man

 

[Ro20316]

Why dont you guys  just chill?

It's been months and this guy felt inspired and tried to do a good thing and here you come judging him. It's mnot like he is taking the credit for this story

On my prt there is no problem

[TonitruiLupus1]

8 hours ago, panama said:

Here goes another installment of Charlie. I hope the original author (Dhalden) is ok with that, as he didn´t manifest his opposition (or encouragment) in this forum. 

English is not my mother tongue, so sorry for the mistakes. 

 

 

Brian opened the door. It seemed to me that he was slightly shorter, as my eyes had to go down a little bit to meet his.

 

“I´m glad you thought about coming back, Andy. Welcome.”

 

“Thanks”, I said, and I stood still.

 

“Come in, please.” Brian turned his back and went to his desk. I closed the door.

 

“Take a seat. So, have you been on holiday ?”

 

I was surprised to hear that question: “no, not at all. Why ?”

 

Brian (his big “I´m your friend" smile on display:) “you look tanned”.

 

“I go out for a run from time to time. We live in California, remember ?”, I said.

 

Brian sighed. “Ok”, he resumed, “did you think about what we discussed during the last session ?”

 

He´s wearing the same shirt. The same pinstriped collared shirt beneath a heavy knit sweater with suede elbow patches... Maybe it is his therapy uniform, I thought with a smirk.

 

“Andy ?”

 

“Sorry... Yes, I think about that last session every day.”

 

Brian looked surprised, and he was not the kind of person to be easily surprised: “really ? Well, tell me...”

 

“You said I had begun to workout to become physically stronger in order to compensate the fact that I was not emotionally strong. Isn´ it ?”

 

Brian shifted in his chair: “well, we can discuss about that.”

 

He´s so skinny. What a shame, I thought. I felt my biceps hardening while making a fist with one hand. With the other, I was touching the narrow straps of the posers I wore under my jeans.

 

Brian tried to bring my attention back, making contact with my eyes through his cute glasses.

 

“Andy, I think you´re a sensitive and brilliant person. But sometimes you live in your own bubble. Don´t hide beneath your reveries...”

 

My posers were bright, bright liquid metal colour. I was so sensitive those days that the mere touching of the fabric made my fuck pole stiff.

 

“Brian ? I have a very precise question to make.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“I´m stronger. It´s not a dream. Do you want me to show you ?”

 

Brian tried to stare back to me in the eye, but he couldn´t help and instead had a look on my overstuffed jeans. My thighs had developped so much that now I had trouble with regular fitted jeans; you could follow the line of my quadriceps through the filmsy tissue. Brian saw I was playing with the straps of the posers.

 

“Are you gonna swim afterwards ?”

 

I woke-up from the chair and bypassed the desk. Brian didn´t make a noise. “Those are called posers. Let me show you.” Brian hesitated. I unbuttoned the jeans.

“It´s not...” Then he saw my tanned, shaved, ripped, dense thighs and he didn´t speak a word. I made another step, turned a little so he could see my carved calfs. But his eyes were transfixed on the posers: my 8 and a half semi-hard, fat cock, was proudly nested within, clearly showing-off.

 

“Yeah ! You´ve noticed, too.” I rotated towards Brian, tensed all my muscles, making a river of veins criss-cross the paper-thin skin of my lower-bod. I pulled up my posers with pride and inhaled: “that´s the stuff.”

 

“Andy, it´s ok.”

 

I took off my jeans, removing quickly my shoes and socks.

 

“Andy, you don´t have to...”

 

“I didn´t show you yet. Wake-up.” It was harsh. It was an order.

 

Brian complied immediatly. His pencil fell to the ground.

 

I made another step toward him. He was at my chin level but it is like he had physically shrinked. I tensed my body once again, feeling the energy and strength in it.

 

“I´m not going to hurt you, Brian. “ He was looking down. I took him by the collar of his clothes, shirt and sweater. With my left hand, I picked him up, straight up. All the distance of my arm up. My bicep strained; dense, heavy, powerful. Brian was getting hard. His dick was making a little crease on the trouser. Then he tried to accomodate it by a kneel movement, but it became more obvious. I let him down.

 

He was panting. His hardon was visible. His dick was at full mast. He tried to hide it with his notebook.

 

“Now you know what my 20 inches bicep can do.”

 

I began to open my shirt. “Do you still think I live in a dream bubble ?”

 

He didn´t answer.

 

“Right now you want this so bad”. I smiled, pointing my deep, carved, tanned eight-pack.

 

“I´m sorry, Andy. This is not right. It´s not professional.”

 

“Go ahead. Come on. You know you want to.”

 

Brian got to his knees. He closed the gap between us akwardly. I didn´t budge. My cock was ready to be worshiped. Soon it was on Brian´s mouth. He sucked eagerly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I can can understand your inpatients about waiting for another Charlie chapter from the writer *panama* and went ahead of the author of the story and made a chapter yourself like it was your God given right to do it and you thought everyone else was going to love it and it was the right thing to do, but i sadly i have to say that you are wrong on this one and your pretty dumb for doing it as some accused you for not having the permission to do so and you should be ashamed of yourself for it, but i don't know that you realized your mistakes and won't do it again or you just don't give a shit about what i say or what anyone says after you've posted your sub-story of Charlie just as long you got your fix and servicing everyone else's fix you thought was noble of you to do it but you didn't all you did was upset people for no reason but satisfy your own selfish desire for more Charlie Story Chapters, i'm sorry but you made a mistake my friend it happen's to some people want more and more story from the author *dhalden*, so please for anyone else's sake just keep your hands off someone else's work and be fucking patient ok.

I don't care if your angry at me for criticizing you for doing something you thought was right i really don't, i just want you to realize something and don't do it again and wait for your next story chapter or part from an author ok, after all i said i hope your fine with this and agree with it if not then i don't give a fuck what you do next just don't do it again and that it all from me.

i'm sorry for bashing your head in with this i just wanted to get it off my chest, so are we cool with this? :-(.

[Scriptboy]

Okay, Basta already. The flame war stops right here or else I will lock this thread. Dhalden, please send me a PM when you have the next chapter of your story.