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Twenty Something Inches (the Remix)




Forum Note: I've always loved this story, and ploder4 on our site mentioned wanting to continue it (his continuation here: Twenty Something Inches - continued). I decided to start posting my remix of the original.

Please keep in mind that this version, my version, is also relatively unedited, but I wanted to start posting what I have to get some feedback and buzz going. So, its A Work in Progress! I'll be posting updates as the creative juices flow.



** A heavily edited and modified redo of the original "Twenty Something Inches" - credit for the story concept and original content goes to the original author, theEd. **






Where should i start? boys? men? muscle gods? well, in order to talk about these gods-among-men, I guess I need to start with the .. uh ... well, with the blast of gamma radiation ... yeah. its gonna be one of those kinda stories... cept this is real.

Let me talk about my life first. Male. 20 years old. I recently moved out of my parents house. No big deal, it was way overdue and I loved the freedom. It was a whole new adventure for me, out on my own, even if it meant living with roommates that were nothing like me.

There was Bill, the guy who decided it was safer to park his motorcycle in our living room. There was Chris, a quiet emo kid who raised tarantulas and snakes in his bedroom. And, there was Nick, a very bad guitar player who had a grower connection and sold dope on campus. We were all about the same age, the youngest being Chris, at seventeen.

It was a shitty living environment by any standards: bugs everywhere, the shower muddy and barely a trickle, food, clothes, papers everywhere. The roommates had these unexpected parties which only further trashed the house and made the whole place reek of pot smoke. I never partook and really didn't like the smell, so, of course, the thick haze somehow, without fail, would always manage to settle right in my bedroom every time. We were lucky that this house was buried in the woods, or we would've gotten to know our local cops quite well.

Another good part was that no one ever knew who the true owner of the house was. We never met, or even had a phone conversation with, anyone who claimed ownership. We all found the house on craigslist and sent our rent checks to some corporate management firm. No one ever bothered us, even if one or more of us had missed payment last month. We enjoyed our freedom in this arrangement, so we tried to pay rent as often as possible.

I was the one who almost regularly missed rent payments. I was there because I had no money and the rent was super cheap. Even then, it was rough for me. But, I still had my notebook, so I could write; I was going to be a famous writer someday, and repay all these debts. Writing was my gift, my passion. I approached the world with an open mind and an open heart, pen and paper at the ready, but I never quite expected that I would write about Bill, Chris and Nick.

That's all the background you need about them: Bill was always an okay kind of guy, Chris was kind of creepy, really, and Nick… well, we never got along very well.

Nick’s all-night-long parties got popular mainly because of the non-stop supply of beer and weed, but he also had live, local bands blasting throughout the night and eventually, the parties became known for the overall "higher" quality of guys and girls that would fill the house. Popular kids from the schools, jocks, athletes, dealers, actresses, up-and-comers, all started flocking to Nick's parties. The house always seemed near collapse, though somehow it would hold together til the next day. In the beginning it was fun; I even scored with some girls and guys. (I’m bi, by the way.) But, then it started to get on my nerves. I couldn’t sleep normal hours anymore, the kitchen was always a total mess, and the bathrooms were beyond disgusting. We had to start pooling money to pay a clean lady to come in two times a week, but after four or five months, even she gave up on our mess.

One random Tuesday night, Bill and Nick decided to barbecue at 3am. They fired up the grill on our outdoor roof/deck/rickety-death-trap/patio area and proceeded to laugh and yell and stomp around until the whole house was awake. Drunk and stoned outta their minds, even more than usual, the guys were interrupted by a bright falling star streaking across the clear night sky. Bill laughed, pointing, “Hey man, look at that! Make a wish!" The star suddenly froze in place and started to swell with a white so bright the boys had look away.


“Wow, dude, what the fuck is that? It's so fucking bright!" Nick said after a few moments of awed silence. "Where's our wannabe astronomer? Hey Einstein, get out here! You're missing the most awesome thing!” Nick yelled down in my general direction.

They called me Einstein, very original, aren’t they? I looked out a nearby window and saw the blinding ball of light, now the size of the moon. “Shit, what the hell," I muttered to myself before reason kicked in. "Guys! Come inside, quick!” I yelled.

“Fuck! Who we should call? NASA?” Bill asked, completely ignoring my warning.

"Someone get a camera! Grab my phone!" Nick yelled into the house, never taking his eyes off the light.

"Come inside! Quick! That thing could be dangerous!" I repeated from inside the safety of our house.

Chris rushed passed my open bedroom door with his phone in hand. I followed after him, hoping to at least get him to stay inside. No dice. He quickly tucked his thin frame through the open window and climbed out onto the roof. “Look at that,” he said, watching the light show through the screen of his phone's video app. I peeked out at the scene from the edge of the window frame. The star exploded with a blinding light that turned the entire sky white. I stepped back as the guys outside covered their eyes. Whatever it was, I had to protect myself. Those guys were crazy to stay out there!

I slammed the old, leaded window closed just as a burst of purple and green flashes filled the horizon. I crouched down into a ball as I felt the whole house start to shake. I was scared shitless! The rumbling got louder and louder, making everything rattle and vibrate with a deadly intensity. "We're all gonna die!" I cried in a meek whisper, mentally complimenting myself on a wonderful choice of last words. At the peak of noise and shaking, there was a huge BANG! and then it all just... stopped.

I was trembling; too afraid to open the window to see if they got toasted by whatever THAT was. I made myself stand and was about to peek through the window when I suddenly heard Nick and Bill yelling "oooh"s and "aaaah"s, like they were watching a 4th of July firework show. Seconds later, they calmed down and that was it. That was the moment that changed our lives. That brief moment... and no one had a single clue.


****


Two months later, I started to notice odd things happening to my roommates. Specifically, to their bodies-- They began to ... "swell," i guess is the word ... with muscle. That Bill would grow muscles easily, was expected. But Chris and Nick? Both were sticks. Two totally flat, tall guys. I had always been attracted to athletic bodies, male and female, and Chris and Nick flew under my radar.

Nick always dressed tight, emo/punk shirts. I started noticing those old shirts were straining against his now-curvy body. His arms had visible muscles swelling now, and when he played his guitar, veins would start to web across them. I also started to notice, to my quiet anger and jealousy, that he was scoring a lot more often, and off a wider variety of girls.

Chris would never leave his room and he when he did, he would always wear baggy clothes, so I had quite a shock when he finally started coming out of his cave. The first time he came up to "chill" nearly killed me! My initial surprise was that he was being overly social all of a sudden, but what really dropped my jaw was that he wearing very little, allowing me my first real glimpse of him shirtless. He had pecs, big pecs, and abs, and biceps-- the whole package! He was still border-line "slim," but he was already becoming muscular, showing off more size and thickness than I could claim on my own twinky body. I knew that this guy had never set foot in a gym, and the last, and only, time I saw his chest, there was not a single, pale muscle to speak of.

My brow furrowed in confusion, asking myself, “What the hell is going on…?"

I tried to ignore all three of them, chalking up their changes in normal male growth spurts, but each week it became more and more difficult to ignore. I had some abstract suspicions by the forth week, and by the fifth and sixth, my otherwise wacky suspicions were becoming fact. On afternoon, I realized I was now about an inch shorter than everyone. Bill, already tall, became much taller. So did Chris and Nick. I began to wonder how much longer they were going to pretend nothing was going on. How could they continue to pretend not to notice when they were obviously starting to tower over me? My main theory was, of course, something related to that night. I began my quest for answers and searched everywhere i could imagine. I Googled, Binged, Yahoo!'d, and newsgroup'd long into the night, digging deep for a single, tiny shred of information that could connect an odd, unexplainable celestial event to multiple counts of spontaneous, unnatural muscle growth. I found some great muscle growth-related sites, but I found nothing of scientific merit. (I bookmarked the fiction and morph sites)


****


One night, Bill knocked on my bedroom door and started shouting through the wood about needing more condoms. Of course, I had plenty. I grabbed a couple from my sad, unused stash and opened my door. My jaw dropped. There was Bill, one hand holding onto a loosely tied towel, stretched taut across the bulging muscle of his thighs. His pecs were huge and thick, his abs deep and defined, his bis swollen and round-- My eyes didn't know where to start! I was drawn back down to his waist, where my eyes froze in place, locked onto his crotch. Pushing against the towel, and outlined in glorious detail, was a full, huge, hard dick. It was big-- abnormally big-- mouthwateringly big. I was speechless. For way too long. Who was this muscle beast?! I already knew (from his loud bragging) that he had 18’ 1/2 biceps, but that stat was from a while ago, and now... now, the rest of his body seemed unreal.

“Hey man? Something wrong?” his pecs bounced as he adjusted the towel.

“It’s… I... uh... here. I… hope they fit...”

“Me too, I already blew three of these fuckin things tonight. They just don’t make rubbers like they used to!" he laughed to himself. "I mean, man, it sucks, you know," he said, leaning in, lowering his masculine baritone a bit, "I have two babes worshiping me down there and these fucking rubbers don’t last a fucking second. Fuck! Can I take more?”

I started at his enormous body... Too long, apparently. He raised his eyebrows and loudly cleared his throat. "Sure," I stammered out.

“Thanks pal, you’re the best,” he said, bouncing his pecs again as he took the second handful of condoms. I couldn't help but watch him saunter away. For the next hour, I heard Bill absolutely trashing his dates. I decided those girls had to be waaaaaaay too drunk to scream like that. I soon found out, though, they weren't drunk at all. All the screaming and begging for more and "Oh God"'ing was because of, what I would later call, Bill's "Factor." I wouldn't understand any of it until much later.


****


One day later that month, I was coming back to the house from school and was surprised to find Nick, tanning on the death-trap-patio above the main entrance. He was completely nude except for a tiny, little pair of white bikini underwear. Now, normally, he was that kind of guy that avoided sun at all costs, but apparently, "New Nick" had other ideas.

I was dumbfounded and had to make a snarky comment, “Hey Nick, sunbathing?? You?” This got his attention and he stood up, moving dangerously close to the edge of the roof. The sun was glaringly bright, but I could still see he wasn't big as Bill, but was certainly getting close! I made special note of big swell his legs were showing.

"You got a problem with that, Einstein?” he said, looking down on me, like a god surveying his property.

“Hey, woah. No problem, man!” I shot back, trying to recall the last time Nick had been a dick to me. I couldn't remember a time, but then again, we never really interacted much. Maybe it was a bad day? I continued on into the house and managed to overhear him taking a phone call. He certainly wasn’t a dick to the person on the other end of the call! I began to wonder, "did I do something to him?"

I found Chris fixing himself something to eat in our huge, common kitchen. He never cooked! I quickly took in his impressive new body. His enhanced curves and swells pulled his otherwise shiny, black UnderArmor outfit to the point of being translucent in places.

“Hey, Chris, hungry enough to finally cook?” I managed to get out, fighting my suddenly dry mouth.

“Yeah. I get hungry a lot, lately.”

“Oh. I see… do you…” he turned to me, and my God, his pecs were the size of Bills! Maybe bigger! “…are…” His body stopped my brain, dead.

“Are... what?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. His biceps exploded as he lifted a huge jar of water to his lips. He gulped and gulped, but some water spilled from his mouth and soaked his shirt.

“err… uh... nothing...” I was sweating. When I first met Chris, we were about the same height and build. Not anymore. He was now quite a bit taller than me. I actually had to look up at his eyes. What. the. fuck!? What is going on?! Is it just me? Am I the only one noticing these sudden changes to my roommates? Am I going insane?!


****


I gulped, “Well…uh... I guess you are on the right track…" My eyes followed his hands as they moved around his body, feeling and testing his mass. He paused and I looked back up into his eyes. He caught me staring, again! I had to distract, "but aren’t you concerned about how or why this insane muscle growth is happening? I mean, this sudden gain in size isn't norm--"

“Yes… a little…" he interrupted. "But, I have a feeling that whatever this is, it's good for me... and it'sh beyond any of our control… you undershtan, Matthew?” I suddenly realized that he was drunk.

“I… guess…”

“I shaw that you started lookin at me in a different way, too…” he smiled at me with this cocky grin, totally out of character.

“I…. What you mean?” My eyes jumped down to his hands as they cupped at his delicious-looking pecs.

“Everyone should look at me the way you do…” Chris let his hands fall to his sides and balanced his weight on one hip. He looked at me through tipsy, yet expectant eyes.

“Ok... Chris, lemme put it this way… you… are not exactly my type. You know? Just not a match."

He actually looked disappointed! Then, a bit angry. Then, defiant. "I saw you checking me out."

“Waaait a minute… you are like… growing bigger, right in front of me! What do you expect?”

“And, it doesn’t turn you on?” He flexed his arm under my nose.

Whatever gorgeous visage was standing before me and making me drool, I had to remember the person that lie beneath. “Look Chris, sorry if I gave the wrong impression, but…” I could see he was not happy. He had opened up to me and I was treating him like he's crazy for thinking anyone would be into him. I mean, he was a kid! More than three years younger than me and, besides, he had pet snakes and spiders. He was kinda creepy like that... He loved watching his pet predators killing their prey, up close. Growing muscles aside, that kid had problems that I didn’t want anything to do with. “Let’s be friends, okay?”

“I understand...” he said coldly and turned his wide back to me. He didn’t talk to me for weeks after that night. I think he always thought of himself as a freak and I just validated those core fears-- I might have even made him feel worse!

****

During those following weeks, the musclehead trio bought some free-weights to use in the house. They started to spot one another, spend all their time together, eat tons and tons of food together, and even go to clubs together. I tried to stay out of their way as much as possible. I'd even listen for their heavy footsteps around the old house so I could move around without incident. It wasn't a precise science, but with Bill's extra muscly pounds, I could at least hear where he was; from there I could kinda guess where the other two were.

And, throughout every single day, dawn to dusk, I could hear at least one of them lifting weights in the garage. With their all-over size gains, it was hard to guess who was spending more time in there. Then, by early evening, they'd be pounding away at some new herd of slutty "friends." All three of them were fucking as many holes as they could. They didn’t even need to throw parties anymore-- the parties came to them.

To the party clique, I was totally invisible. My witty banter couldn't compete with the guys flexing an arm. People just wanted to be near them. Chris was still struggling, though. He was an oddball at heart, and didn't always fit in-- Well, that wasn’t my problem!

But, most of the time, I could walk around the party-packed house without any rude encounter. I'd just throw out the obligatory ‘hi’ now and then to the random faces I saw, and scoot along my merry way. But, when I'd actually see one of my roommates, in the center of the throng, I had to fight so hard not to stop and stare at their increasing muscular size. But what would stop me in my tracks, without fail, was the fact that their dicks were getting bigger, too. I think. Each of the guys, with their own clothing styles, managed to wear pants that clearly outlined every lump, flare, and vein of their increasingly huge alpha cocks. The boys now looked porn-star hung and didn't care who saw. It was getting more and more difficult the bigger and bigger they got. For the first month, it was relatively easy for me, but with their bodies lookin the way they do now...

****

One day I got really hungry and was too tired to go out and grab food myself. So, I went to the fridge and grabbed some meat to cook-- our fridge overflowed with labeled chunks of various beasts, wrapped in plastic or covered on plates. I was really hungry and ate a whole portion of honey-roasted chicken breast. I didn’t realize the danger I'd put myself in. I turned around to see Nick standing in the doorway, and, man, did he explode at me:

“What the FUCK are you DOING?” He was shirtless and huge, and had two of his "groupies" behind him. Nick was bigger than I ever seen him before. And, the last time I had seen him shirtless, he had 19’ arms. He was starting to look like a competitive bodybuilder! I jumped at his sudden appearance and the pure anger in his booming voice.

“Man, I was hungry. I'm gonna replace it later when I go to the store! I'm--” his speed surprised me even more, given his new size. He was right up against me and, grabbing my neck, he lifted me in the air, choking the air from me.

“You fucking PRICK! Who gave you permission to take MY food?”

“I’m… sorry…” my feet were dancing in the air, scrabbling for something to alleviate the pressure on my neck. My face felt like It was gonna burst. “…I--"

“Answer me!”

“I… am…(gasp) answering… you(gasp)” The two swooning groupies, a blond and a ginger, begged Nick to he put me down after a minute or two. I crashed to the floor, gasping to breath. I coughed and looked up at him to see, much to my relief, that the girls had managed to soothe the beast.

As the girls continued to rub themselves against his solid form, I saw his cock starting to swell and push out hard against he jeans. He groaned as the girls rubbed their tits on his arms and back, whispering in his ears about how strong and huge he was. His torn jeans barely held his legs muscles-- every lump and mound clearly visible, with the tough fabric stretched to near-transparency over his waist-thick quads. I found myself staring again.

“Listen to me, you fucking idiot. Get my food now, or I’ll fucking rip your fucking arms off!"

“Ok," was all I could manage as I scrambled to my feet, stunned.

What the fuck was that?!! Roid rage?!! Jesus!

He turned and strolled out of the room, leaning in to kiss each of the girls as they grabbed at his hunky muscles. Fuckin steroids! I rubbed my throat, thinking, and it dawned on me. Now I get why he named his band "Roid Rage!" He's fuckin' explosive! And fuckin psycho! About as psycho as the dumbass producer that actually seems interested in signing him. Maybe Nick attacked him like he did me just now, and the dudes too scared to say 'no.'

My brain worked to quickly block out what had just happened and I started to ponder Nick's career. He's gonna get signed?? No way! He’s not that good! Not at all... He’s a prick. An immense prick. And dangerous, apparently! But, then there's that body... I followed his movement out of the kitchen and into the chill zone, where two more girls joined the threesome. They all fell onto a couch and basically started a little orgy right there in front of me.

Nick was getting too dangerous to be this close to. He could have killed me, the fuck! What the hell could I do, though? Call the cops? Leave? In the end, I went out and bought two big packages of fresh meat which more than replaced what I'd eaten.

****

I realized I was feeling fucking submissive. Hearing Nick call my name, or any mocking variation thereof, would knock the wind outta my sails, and he knew it-- Fucking bastard. He never exactly "bullied" me, but there was psychological torture that he definitely enjoyed putting me through. And, his new favourite torture was to tease me with his big muscles. He totally got off on how I got mesmerized by his size. He would even go as far as to taunt me by jumping on my lap, grinning that cocky, hot, alpha grin, and trace his finger along each muscle, going from group to muscle group, pointing out just how much bigger he was than me. I was just an average guy, with an average life and a slim, albeit defined, average body, but Nick... Nick was becoming this arrogant, swole, bulky muscle god-- and I hated that I loved watching it happen.

It was quickly becoming hell to deal with Nick.

*****


Bill seemed easier to deal with, at first. Even bigger than Nick, he at least started off with a bit of respect for me. But, I saw their growth was starting to do funny things on their heads. Some weeks ago, Bill asked me to take down any random messages that came in for him on the landline. (We all used that number as a dumping ground for spam calls, but I guess he was giving it out more frequently now.) What started as a favor turned me into his personal fucking assistant. He hated electronic stuff, so every email, every call, I had to be there or Bill-- William, I had to call him, now, to sound more "professional"-- otherwise, William would get pissed. He probably be even more pissed if he knew i often called him "Billy" in my head.

He opened up to me and finally started talking about how his newfound, massive muscle gains were absolutely changing his life. He proudly went on to tell me about his financial windfalls. He'd grown huge and now he was gettin paid! BANK! His body was generating some serious cash revenue... People all over were sending him money for various reasons. He got a new computer for cam chats, several new phones to help track his progress, brand new cutting edge gym equipment, clothes, shoes, supplements, giant new flatscreens-- even a fancy, 3D, curved behemoth for us to use in the chill room. He got money to buy a chopper and was even given a modded Subaru WRX-somethingerother. He was as surprised as I was! He had no idea that people would actually pay just to touch him. And, neither of us could've ever imagined exactly just how much his "fans" were actually willing to pay! Turned out, by doing absolutely nothing cept flexing on cam and maybe dancing a bit, he was making more per month than both my parents, combined!! I had to admit, tho, he'd gotten to the point where I could totally understand why. He was prime, huge, alpha stud.


So Bill paid me to be his personal assistant, which barely put food on my table. I saw the money coming in and quickly decided I deserved a bigger cut. But, typical mousy me, I didn't have the balls to mention it. Granted, greed aside, he was being nice to me as it was... and I did really, really enjoy the primary perk of the job: getting up-close, VIP-level, nearly unlimited access, to behind-the-scenes views of that fuckin huge-ass body! Bill-- William-- was now proudly sporting guns that broke the twenty inch mark weeks ago. He had always been a jock, not necessarily intelligent, or "book smart," I guess you could call it, but he was certainly smart enough to manipulate the hell outta people.



****



Once, in his newest gift, a badass truck, I was complaining about friggin Nick when Bill suddenly interrupted me. “Man, you remember  that night you freaked out because we were growing…?”

“Yeah...” I asked cautiously, quietly impressed that his muscular frame was taking up my entire view. I realized that even with our new working "relationship," we'd never actually discussed that night.

“We were playing dumb… Of course we knew it was happening!" Finally! The validation made me smile, inwardly. "C’mon, do you really think that…” he flexed his monstrous bicep pretty much in my face “…that we wouldn't notice... this?”

“oh, really...” I let the sarcasm roll off my tongue.

“Those days, you couldn’t stop staring at us. It was so funny!"

That snapped my mouth shut! I began to blush-- I wasn't expecting that hard truth! I wasn't ready to admit anything to anybody about my inner feelings; I certainly wasn't ready to openly discuss it with Bil-- William-- right here, right now!

“What the hell you are talking about, William?” I tried to feign ignorance then anger.

He stopped the car at a light and faced me, “Look at my body, bro. I know what you're thinking..."

I gulped, my throat suddenly dry, “Oh? What am I thinking, William?”

He grinned at me, that cocky alpha sneer, for an uncomfortably long time. He grabbed inside his collar with both hands and tore his shirt halfway down his torso, exposing his gorgeous chest to me. The ripping motion made his pecs bounce into view, swollen with an unnatural weight. I literally lost my breath. My jaw went slack. Bill was so huge that my brain couldn’t compute. I reacted like a girl seeing a penis for the first time. My eyes were everywhere, trying to take it all in. I actually felt an embarrassing rivulet of drool slide along my lower lip. The traffic light had long since turned green, but neither of us cared. He shifted in his seat and grabbed at his bulging crotch. My eyes couldn't help but follow.

"Now, you're thinking about the size of my horse cock." He grinned after that matter-of-fact statement. I couldn’t even react because that was exactly what I was thinking. I could only make out lumps and curves, exaggerated by the glow of the truck's console. A car behind us beeped in annoyance and we started moving again, but William kept his hand pressed on his crotch. As we rolled along the street, the evenly-placed street lights began to animate a beautiful thickness, creeping down his thigh. The surreal flip-card show ended abruptly as we pulled into a parking lot and, Bam! There, in his tight pants, the fine details of this massive snake were illuminated-- the lump was just the base, and halfway down his huge thigh sat the most well-known shape in the history of modern man.

The drool fell heavily off my lower lip. “It's over ten inches, dude."

“…ten…” I dragged the back of my hand across my lips, absent-mindedly trying to wipe away any more tell-tale drool. The slurping sound was abnormally loud.

“Each month, a new inch, Matt... Can you believe that?! Fuckin awesome!! An inch a month! Fuckin sex god, right here, bro!" My eyes followed his hand down to the plump cock head clearly outlined by, and straining against, the fabric of his shorts. I licked my lips. "What if we don’t stop growing, man? Can you imagine...?” He kinda trailed off, lost in his own fantasy. His cock flexed hard against his shorts, the mushroom tip starting to peek out from the stretched leg opening. “This is just the beginning, Mat... can you fuckin imagine?”

I didn’t have to imagine! It was real. This tank's shoulders took up almost the entire width of the front seats. I was being pressed against my door just sitting next to him. His big-ass cock was now threatening to rip his pants if it grew any longer or harder. I  forced my eyes shut and tried to imagine what it would be like to actually have sex with this guy. I would be squashed like those bugs on the windshield. I'd have to hold on to his massive frame for dear life, constantly pushing back against him just to get a breath! I could easily fit on his lap, my legs wrapped around his tiny waist, if I were lucky enough to be given the option to ride him. Then I could focus on surviving all 10+ inches pummeling my insides with animal abandon, it's arrow-straight thickness reinforced by the tree trunk enormity of his quads, flexed hard against the seat of the car.

The painful hardness of my own cock suddenly ripped me from my fantasy. Shit!! OMG! I was ready to explode! My rod was clearly tenting out my shorts. I was oozing pre-cum. Dangerously close to "go time." I froze in fear, embarrassment, lust, everything... paralyzed. A sliver of clear liquid inched down my inner thigh. He could do whatever he wanted with me. We locked eyes. And, I would let him. Not that fighting against him would make any difference. And, I would love it.



He kept looking over at me with that arrogant grin shining across his huge muscular frame. Bill knew I was trapped-- my senses, lust, fantasies, all locked me up, rendering me totally unable to think properly. I felt completely invaded by his gaze and control over me. “...are- are you going to rape me?” I've never been harder or more horny. I ached. My puppy-dog eyes belied my feigned surface fear, desperately pleading for him to take me. God, how I wanted him to push me down, hold me in place, and just destroy me-- to just fuck me hard. I heard myself whisper in the faintest of secret breaths, "Please--"

I could feel the truck shaking. He was howling with laughter! "Hey, Mat, you are so fuckin funny!!" He patted me hard on the shoulder. "That’s exactly what every fuckin client of mine wants! But you might have actually had that pleasure!" Another rough pat on my shoulder shook me totally back to reality.  "Fuckin crazy, man! People all around me, hoping I'd actually rape them. Isn’t that fucked up!?" I could only nod. "Grab me another shirt from those boxes in back.”

I didn’t know what to think. Did he get his huge cock hard in front of me as some kinda joke? Was ripping his shirt off just a mind fuck? If so, these were games I would always lose. I recovered a bit more and asked, “Are you sure these people don't want normal sex, not… uh... to be raped…?" What a weird topic of conversation. And, damn, his cock was still as hard as before. I busied myself with finding a new matching shirt for him in the pile of boxed clothes, stuffed in the back of the truck's extended cab.

“That’s the weird thing, before all this growth I had this girlfriend that I fucked on daily basis. Her mother fuckin hated me. It was worse with her dad. They totally despised me... But as soon as I realized every hot-ass chick in sight was startin to get all up on me, I dropped my girl faster than flaming shit." I pulled out a XXL polo and handed it to William. "So, last week she called me again. She said she missed me and all that bullshit. I went to her pad to bang her one more time; kinda a goodbye/sympathy fuck. But, when I walked into the living room and her hater family saw me, all brand new, with these swole-ass guns and big-ass pecs…”

Bill pulled off the rest of his destroyed shirt. I could hardly pay attention to his story, every move was an explosion of huge tanned muscle. His old shirt was basically glued to his body and the new polo was no different. He pulled it down, covering his godly torso. It was like an angelic light had been suddenly shut off. I could think again! But, was immediately entranced by his cloth-covered, massive pecs, lit perfectly by the lot's security lights. And, his bis!! Good God! They were like footballs tucked under flesh! Everything pressed against his strained shirt, bouncing and bunching as he continued his story, talking loudly with his hands.

“...and then, I had her fuckin mother, under the table, suckin on my cock while her fuckin daughter was taking a shower for our date! Unreal, bro!" My eyes fixated on his cock again. "I could fuck anyone in that family. Haha! I came on the old bitch’s face while her wimp-ass husband was sitting right in the other room! I made sure he knew what was goin on, but he kept pretending it wasn’t happening! Man, I totally dominated that fuckin family. Talk about change of respect.”

Shit. God. When is William gonna do that to me? Bend me over, break me in, make me a slave to his every whim? Am I gonna have to act like a dog and beg? Get on the ground and look up at him, "Please fuck my face, sir?" What if he doesn't like it, tho? The possible punishments... Would he crush me? Never talk to me again? The truck's windows had completely fogged over and it was friggin sweltering inside. “So, uh, William, let’s go back home?”

“Nah, let’s go inside."

“Hooligan’s? Isn't this the place that Nick plays?”

“Yah. Always a lotta chicks. Haha! Look at my fuckin cock! It's ready to go all night, bro! It ain't gonna rest til I sink it deep!”

His arrogance shot right to my dick again. Hot. And, Hello? Billy! I'm right here, mouth open, totally fucking wanting to suck you dry! Right here, fucker! Don't even have to get outta the car. He swung his door open, “I’ll fuck the first set'a huge titties I see! Promise you!” He wasn't even really talking to me anymore, but I didn’t doubt it.



Waking side by side towards the club, anyone could see who the real man was. Bill towered over me with his 6’6" or 6’7"-- I wasn’t sure anymore. There was a pretty long line to get in, but William pushed right through everyone, his 10 incher rock solid, bumping asses, and totally on display. The line of generic people hushed as he moved through them. Bill was hunting for a good-looking girl to fuck. Of the hundred or so people, he zoomed in on a decent-looking brunette. She knew she'd been chosen-- her pupils dilated and nipples got hard. She tried to look away as he approached, but went crazy with lust when she finally got a full view of him.


He grabbed at his crotch while she feverishly groped his arms and pecs, then, without a word, they pushed out of the line, and tucked around a nearby corner. Bill started to fuck her, right there, in a nasty little alley, just three or four steps off the busy sidewalk where everyone was waiting. Flashes of flesh and clothing would briefly pop into view, writhing and whipping around, giving visual to the unmistakeable sounds of hungry sex audible just under the walla of the crowd. Watching the edge of the wall long enough it was easy to tell he was ramming her from behind, standing, pressing her up against the wall. To Billy, it was quite normal, I think. But to me and others keen to the show, it felt beyond surreal... A cheesy porno plot made real, right before a shocked audience's eyes. To the normal Joe, this would never even begin to take place, but with his model-boy, chiseled looks, his enormously pumped, muscular body, and his 10"-and-growing Magnum dick, all powered by his alpha cockiness and sex drive, this was an expected, regular event for Billy. A typical weeknight, really.

After a solid 10 or so minutes, Billy was making his way back to the front door, still stuffing his deflating cock back in his pants. “Shit man, I fucking ruined her clothes.” I looked past Billy and saw her walking back to her friends, with her dress in rags, completely soaked with his cum and sweat. She could've been ashamed of herself, being so openly and quickly dominated and fucked, but instead, wore her fucked-up hair as a trophy. Her friends were asking all about it and him-- they envied her! Wow. What the fuck was going on? He was a total dick to this random bar chick and she still wanted more.

Billy was ready to go inside and didn’t give a shit about the line. He pushed to the front and I noticed none of the doormen made moves to stop him. I was pulled inside right behind Bill, but I quickly moved off to the side for a second, so I could adjust to the loud, dark nightclub. My mind was still reeling from the previous 20 minutes, and I was still in shock over the stuff with Billy in the truck. Shake it off.

****

While Bill was being showered with attention, I sat at the bar and ordered a beer. Sipping at it and getting lost in thought, someone patted me on the shoulder. Turning around I saw Nick looking down at me, over and between his pecs; his wifebeater left nothing to the imagination, helping to show off their size and symmetry. He squinted his eyes at me before shouting over the noise, “Hey girls! The music critic is finally gracing us with his presence!"

In an instant whirlwind, I was thrust into the center of Nick’s ‘friends'-- people whose lives were spent in his shadow, agreeing with any stupid bullshit thing that came out of his mouth. The "yes" crowd. But, man, he certainly did have a lot of these ‘friends.'

“I come in peace, Nick,” I yelled over the music, trying to sound cool.

“You have to, bro. Joe, tell him what happened to the last… critic."

Joe was the original bandleader, the alpha, the number one, the rising star, before Nick’s unexplainable growth. Now, he was a zombie like the others. “Haha! All I remember was him having his mouth too full to talk any shit, right Nick?” The laughed.

“Yeah, dude, his face was fuckin hilarious!! But, he -was- begging for it, wasn’t he girls?” All the chicks swooned in agreement.

“Tooootally,” said one punk girl as she patted and ran her fingers along Nick's cock bulge.

It had to be a full moon! Two muscle-monster roommates of mine, basically threatening to rape me on the same day! Nick adjusted his cock to help it snake down his leg while the punk groupies rubbed him. It grew obscenely large, incredibly quickly. Two other girls were feeling him from behind, cupping at his pecs, squeezing his bis, but none of that stopped him from glaring down at me with a sneer. He flared his muscular back and the two babes gasped and moaned as they continued feeling him up. Hands were everywhere, dwarfed by his frame. It made me suddenly realize, as he flexed, that he'd grown so massive, he now rivaled most pro bodybuilders I'd seen pictures of!

He was wearing some kind of purple dark unitard beneath the white wifebeater-- clothes only a Mexican luchador would choose-- clothes that managed to make every line of his growing cock and thick-ass legs stand out with a bright, glowing shine. He was looking like a glam-ish version of Conan, the Barbarian. He was just plain huge. Everyone looked like children next to his 6’5", thick, broad frame.

“Show time! Means, time for you to go, critic!" He shoved me away, with a wink. "Later, you gotta tell me what you think of my show!"



As could be expected for a band called "Roid Rage," their show was a bunch of guys torturing instruments and insulting their audience. It couldn't even be classified as thrash metal. It was just noise, a very loud noise, created just to deafen any ear. Of course, the primary focus of their stage show was Nick, lit by spots, destroying a guitar and yelling at a microphone. His guitar was a cheap piece of crap because it wouldn’t survive that night.

By my side was an older guy, an odd figure amidst the clubgoers. He was entranced by the spectacle. and when Nick ripped off his sweaty wifebeater, this guys eyes practically burst into cartoony dollar signs. Apparently, he was a low-life unsuccessful music producer. Needless to say, he quickly became Nick's producer, but thankfully, and just as quickly, he faded into the background, becoming just another sex slave, worshiping at the altar of Nick's neverending growth. But, for the moment, he was just another guy who couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nick’s crotch.

I realized that I had lost track of Bill, and he was nowhere to be seen. He was probably off fucking some girl(s). Some stupid lucky hoes. Some pretty, titty, trashy tramps that... weren't... me. Huh. Was I actually pissed that he was off long-dickin some gutter skanks when he should really be fucking me? Did I fall that hard for him, or, shit... them... that fast? Fuck!! My dick was sprung imagining Billy and Nick just destroying some faceless bar whores, but my heart was aching in an ugly jealousy that it wasn't me being banged unconscious by the two godly studs. Their lives were suddenly heavenly-- like twin white-hot suns, scorching to ash everything they looked upon. It made me think of Kafka’s Metamorphosis; it was about a twenty-something guy turning into a repulsive, very fragile giant cockroach. Enduring this transformation took everything he had. He survived, only to die in the end from hunger and loss, abandoned by all, even his family. It was a fucking sad story. Really. But here, it was the complete opposite-- it was Kafka antimatter! Each day, these boys were getting more and more appealing to everyone around them... Forcing a kind of pervasive mob-mentality onto the throngs of slack-jawed groupies, brain-washing them all into living for one thing, and one thing only, the worship of their bodies-- their muscles, their enormous biceps and pecs and quads-- their unchecked egos, their alpha male monster cocks, their insatiable appetites. Each day, their power and control grew, and their true prime alpha status became more and more obvious.

And, stuck at ground zero? Little ol me. I've been forced to watch this whole... ascension... from the very beginning! I couldn’t hold in my own shameless desires for Nick and Billy any longer. Each day, I felt would finally be the day where I crumble and give in to my lust. My addiction was becoming harder and harder to feed. Sometimes, I'd find myself hiding in some cramped corner in the garage just to watch Bill work out. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that tomorrow they will actually be bigger. Bill's musings in the truck that day started to dominate my thoughts: when it will stop? Will it stop? What if they turn into giants, fucking and devouring everything in sight? They weren't anywhere near that point yet, but, my god, these boys were pushing all the right envelopes already.



The sound of Nick obliterating his guitar ripped me out of my reverie. His massive frame filled my vision, abuptly interrupted by someone handing me a thick blunt. I glanced briefly at the generous club-goer, shrugged, and took a nice, long, suffocating hit. Nick was moving into a hard double-bi pose, his hips thrust forward, showing off that mouth-watering monster cock. It was just there, on full display under his sprayed-on skinny jeans. The crowd went wild with the sound of the guitar screaming as Nick jerked its dangling strings like some bitch's hair he was holding in place to slap with his dick. The high from the pot helped me finally realize that everyone in this nightclub was sharing the same nasty fantasies I was. We all wanted, minimum, to feel Nick’s iron muscles. Some were even shamelessly begging at Nick's feet, high up on the stage, while others were desperately fighting those insane urges. The latter few were the most amusing to watch; big dudes who thought of themselves as alpha males, realizing in shame that they all utterly paled in comparison to Nick.

The deafening band was horrible, but Nick didn't need anything to command the respect of the club. In the center of the screeching noise, I could just make out a devouring kind of energy being evoked; it was chaotic like a hurricane and destructive like a tsunami. I had never heard anything like that. The interesting part of this metaphor was that Nick, essentially in the eye of the storm, was actually fueling the whole hurricane on stage. He spun and whipped, full of energy, full of muscle and veins, swollen and  pumped like hell.

And, suddenly, a pulse of light and thump of bass was the last… whatever this was. I found myself thinking the show was actually way too short. Everyone shouted and begged for more, but the band-- Nick-- didn’t give a shit. I was gasping for air like everyone in the club when I felt an unnatural, roaring heat behind me. I wavered a bit on my feet and bumped straight into something painfully hard and massive. I turned to figure out what the hell piece of furniture was suddenly behind me only to be shocked that the mass was fuckin Bill’s quad. I looked up at him, reeling, "Hey-hi, Bill! Uh... Where were you?”

“Backstage. Fucking some twins." He said it so blasé.

“Oh… uh..." I quickly understood why he was so hot-- I mean, his body temperature. You get the idea.

Some other girls came to talk to Bill, but he just shoved them away, "Let’s go find Nick!” he said as he took my arm and pulled me backstage. We pushed through the decorations and people and I was stopped in my tracks. There, in the middle of everything and everyone, was Nick, sprawled on a ratty couch, getting his beautiful, giant cock worked over by an absolutely on point blonde hottie. He drained his beer and hurled it at the nearest wall. It exploded in glass, just adding to the nearly impassible layers of debris on the floor. Cans, glass, scraps of food and clothes, cigarette butts, baggies... all manner of shit made me scared to move for fear of falling on my face and catching hep-C. But, then Nick spotted me.

“So, critic! I've been waiting all night! How many stars?” People went quiet when Nick spoke. Everyone looked at me.

I had no words when Nick stood up, the blond still sucking his cock. He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her off his tool. I could see in her eyes that she wanted to be treated like that. Every girl in this room wanted to be Nick’s whore. He casually tucked his huge hard cock inside the weird glam fatigued leotard he'd changed in to.

“Answer me!" I jumped.

“It... Uh... It was chaotic, like a hurricane. Destructive, like a tsunami." Everyone looked back at Nick, waiting for his reaction. Bill was the only one chuckling.

“That’s a good one… I like it!" Nick said, thoughtfully. “Good review. You're safe, for tonight.”

It hurt my pride, but I said, “thanks.” I was spared the public humiliation of being forced to deep throat Nick's amazing cock, but I had conflicting feelings about it. He fell back onto the couch and resumed his private sex show. I left before he changed his mind about publicly raping my throat.



(to be continued ... )

Edited by loveembig
Edit to include original author's name and to remove unintended copyright ownership notice.
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  • 1 month later...

(A little quickie update ... sorry I haven't been working on this as much as I wanted to!)

 

 

Dazed and frustrated, I took a bus back to the house. I felt ... different, now. I felt like a toy in their hands. I realized, no matter where I ran into the big hulks of muscle and sex-- home, class, where ever, there was now a high probability that i would catch them in some form of sexual congress. Just thinking about watching Billy or Nick, or even Chris, in "fuck on" mode again would cause instant hardness in my pants. I still wrestled with my desire for them, and, looking back now, I realize this is around the time I began to change inside. I mean, just for me to be with -any- guy I had to be drunk or very high, but now every wet dream, every jerk off in the shower, every quick fantasy scene between classes, was all about their muscles. I always came the hardest when my internal spank bank featured Nick slapping me in the face with his monster cock or Bill making me slowly worship his body.

I was starting to feel guilty about my lust-filled fantasies of my three roommates. These jerk-off sessions were admittedly consuming WAY too much of my free time, but, then again, everyone else around them was acting just as obsessively horny as I was, weren't they? Wasn't I allowed to have some "personal time" dedicated to explosive, muscle-based ejaculations? I mean, I wasn't throwing myself at any of them like the rest of the basic whores hovering around them. And, I was probably around the trio like twice as much as your normal joe. I should get some credit for that! And, come to think of it, since when is enormous muscle, like, everyone's turn on?? Maybe more than just their muscle growth was enhanced by that weird light. Maybe they now had some supernatural sex appeal, too! ... Man, I could've had all that, too, if I wasn't such a god damned wuss!

As I walked back from the bus stop, I looked at the sky and saw that was indeed full moon. Funny. I would have been a bit more interested, except for the fact that Nick's big, little show had left me dizzy, disoriented, and really tired.


I fumbled around with my key in the main door back at the house. I pretty much fell inside once the lock finally relented and stumbled even more because the lights were all off. I grumbled to myself and felt along the wall for the big, push-button antique switches, but froze when i felt something behind me. I started to turn towards the huge thing i felt towering over me, when I felt a long, thin ... thing ... strike the side of my face. Panic-- but then a relaxed exhale as I realized what it was: that damn snake of Chris'. But how was it up high enough to touch my face? Freaked out again, I popped on the lights only to find Chris standing right in front of me. He wearing a red shirt and had his monstrous snake around his neck.

“What the fuck, Chris!? You fucking scared the shit outta me!”

I pushed him with an angry, playful shove, but he didn't budge. He didn’t say a word, just stared at me. His pectorals were inches from my face and my brain started backtracking and focusing on the masses of muscle my hands just felt. He sneered a bit and I looked down to see he was holding an empty bottle of vodka. He was only in his briefs and a tight shirt, crammed to overflowing, like Bill or Nick. My jaw involuntarily dropped open, and I noticed the huge lump in his boxers start to move as it swelled in size. I stepped back.

I hadn't seen Chris in the flesh for several weeks. Seeing him made me realize that he had to have been growing faster than either of the other two. He was a total twig in the beginning, like me, and now he was ... well ... huge! His guns were easily twenty inches! He had been avoiding me as much as I had been avoiding him, I guess. But, apparently, he had decided it was time to change that.

Chris dropped the empty bottle and patted the big yellow snake on the head. He stepped closer to me, sending the bottle spinning off into the darkness where it struck something and smashed apart. I was suddenly, genuinely scared! I turned to go back out the front door, but Chris reached over me and slammed it shut in my face. I turned back towards the monster of muscle, full of fear and full of lust. I backed up against the door as he took another step closer, his huge dick sticking straight out in front of him, leading the way. His muscled forearm still held the door closed over my shoulder, and he used his other hand to pull down on his giant pole while taking another step into me. He let go of his dick as he pressed against me, making it whap my nuts hard between my legs. I gasped as he pushed upwards against me, letting me, no, making me, feel the absolute enormity of his body and the solid mass of strength that his dick had become.

A bear-like growl, a bass-only "mmmmmm," escaped from his lips and he ground his massive frame against my fragile body. Our eyes were locked, though mine were full mostly of fear, while his were filled with fiery animal lust. I couldn't control myself anymore, and found my hand reaching down to explore the solid manhood between his-- our legs-- the manhood that was pushing up, hard under my own, and almost lifting me off the ground. His other arm slammed against the door behind me, bracing himself against the house, but also trapping me in a human cage. My brave hand made contact with the base of his unbelievable cock, causing his slitted, hungry, animal eyes to open a bit, reviving his humanity.

"Chris..." I eeked out as I made contact. "Oh, my fucking God..." followed, as an unwanted whisper from my wet lips as I realized the fingertips of my big hand we nowhere near connecting. I strained, stretching my hand around his impressive steel, but no go. I was really unable to completely grip his cock. It was at the point, also, that I realized his dick had literally torn through the front of his boxers, leaving the fabric remains in shreds. I shuddered. He grinned. A droplet of drool rolled down around and off my lower lip.

His breath reeked of vodka and his swollen body oozed alpha pheromones as he pressed into me. On auto-pilot, my hand pulled slowly, but forcefully, down the length of his dick, my grip widened by his size along the way. My eyes must have glazed over into pure lust as I continued to feel out his organ, because his body relaxed quite a bit, stepping down from animal attacking to animal mating. My hand reached the point where his insane manhood pressed up into my nuts and I realized I was harder than I'd ever been in my entire life. I grabbed at my own dick and pushed it down hard against his, amazed at the unbelievable difference in size. I wasn't huge by any standards, but I was still happy with my 7 inches... until now. Granted, I couldn't see the whole thing, but his dick looked like it was twice the size of mine-- length AND girth!

The big yellow and white boa had been making its way down his back and finally met the floor with a thud. One danger out of the way! My eyes moved back up from the floor to his and he puffed out his already huge chest. God he was gorgeous. Why hadn't I noticed this before?? Beautiful, sparkling blue eyes, deep like the ocean, straight, bright white teeth, angular, model-like jaw and cheek bones-- Chris suddenly moved one of his arms from over my shoulder and flexed a bicep right in front of my face-- right in front of my mouth.

Time froze. My eyes widened. His grin reappeared, cocky as ever. His bicep twicted almost imperceptibly an inch or three from the tip of my nose.

"Chris..." I somehow said, finally, annoyed and surprised how my drooling mouth had suddenly become so bone dry, "... shit... the size of it..." I wanted so bad to reach both my hands up and feel every inch of the super-heavy bodybuilder's-sized bicep right in front of my face, but i was afraid-- afraid of chris' drunken anger and afraid of my overwhelming lust.

Chris grunted and his cock thrummed against my nuts. I took that as the go-ahead to touch. I palmed the enormous peak with one hand and smacked up against the huge tricep with the other. I came. Hard. Yup! Right then and there, I unloaded in my pants, just from touching his swollen, hard bicep. But! In my defense, this was insanely hot scene! And, I really had held off for an impressively long time, considering! Chris had managed to trigger so many of my hidden fetishes, scenes from my Porn To-Do/Wish List, and muscle god fantasies, that he made me unload like a week's-worth of jizz, right in our foyer, while fully dressed, and without a single finger of my own anywhere near my dick. But I think what really sealed the deal for me, was the sheer amount of bicep that remained uncovered by my oversized hands. There were actual inches of muscle untouched between my two thumbs, with zero chance of them meeting over the mass.

As my jizz soaked my pants, I suddenly got very embarrassed. I couldn't think straight. I was vulnerable, exposed. I bolted. My hands actually left the rock solid, warm bliss they were holding onto and I ran. Ducking under his massive frame, I squirreled my way back and around and behind and up the stairs towards my room. My heart was absolutely pounding and the adrenaline super-charged my escape. Up. Up. Up. Top. Quick right. Run run run run run. Right. Hallway. Door! I made it!

I slammed my bedroom door behind me as hard as I could, locking the flimsy little bolt, and slid down to the floor, panting, reeling.

 

 

(contiuned....)

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  • 2 years later...

So Chris actually hid because he was trying to workout and grow as big as he could so he could look Matt's type and surprise Matt when the time was right. But after Matt came home unexpectedly and caught Chris there Chris could no longer resist and let all of his passion and love for Matt go. However because of what happened during the day Matt felt too embarrassed and his pride was wounded.

Do i get that right? ^^;

 

I hope Chris will be dominant but not a bully and not someone who would disrespect Matt, no matter how big he would get. Matt deserves someone who treats him kindly and love him in the changing world of his. =3 Especially with Nick being a roid raged asshole and Bill being someone who kind off mentally tortures Matt. =/

Though you know what would be even more funny? If Nick; Bill & Chris all secretly are in love with Matt. x3 But Nick knowing that Matt likes to be dominated over, takes it all a too far thanks to the testosterone in his body. Bill making Matt his personal assistant making Matt be close to him but because of his mind being "corrupted" by his body, the attention and the sex, he keeps talking about banging girls because he thinks that is how cool guys talk. And Chris is the only person who openly shows his love for Matt, even after his rejection weeks earlier. ^^

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