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Partly inspired by true events : P

 

Part I  Part II

 

Part III – All The Way

 

        It was hard to consolidate beauty as I knew it before with the erotic sensations that were now constant and overwhelming.  The sun shot red rays across the sky in protest of the coming night, and the trees watched silently, their leaves soaking up the last of the usually sporadic sunlight.  I felt the pump in my arms, fibers straining against the weight.  Normally I would take solace in the calmness of the twilight, in the gentle passage of time between phases of the day.  But fuck, I was huge.  It was hard to focus on anything else.

       

        The tree branch began to bend as I lifted myself up towards the sky.  It wasn’t iron, but it would have to do.  It was easy.  With just a simple flex my will was transformed into action.  Nothing could stop me.  I rested my chin on the bending branch.

 

        The sun set.  I had grown twice since last night.  I didn’t have the desire for anything else.  I worked out upon waking up and then again after I ate and rested.  I bought new clothes in the interim too.  The others fit me way too tightly, making it almost uncomfortable to breathe.  Every motion was exaggerated by the fabric stretching against my hardened stature.  Although by now I didn’t really care.  I was out here without a shirt on.  People could look at me if they wanted to.  I was going to be gone soon, and they would not recognize me except for my hair. 

 

        I lifted my chin from the branch and started to let myself down slowly.  My bare feet descended to the grass, toes touching first and then heels falling softly.  I couldn’t help but flex each of my swollen muscles, starting with my calves.  The impressive cliff they formed created a shadow even in the fading light.  Next it was quads.  Big, bloated, and cut to the nines, they strained my already exasperated shorts.  And I didn’t even have to flex them very hard.  It didn’t help that my glutes stole most of the fabric, forming firm, round globes that eclipsed my lower legs.  I ran my hands up and across my abs, each brick bringing my erection to greater attention, and finished with a double bi pose.  That one was my favorite.  It put the power that lay just beneath those titanic arms on display so effortlessly.  My dick now rose to full mast, my shorts struggling to hold together.  It felt good to be a man. 

 

        I went back inside to the guy I had just fucked.  He was tight, wiry, but nothing like me. He was face down, ass up.  The smell of the candle I had left burning mixed with the smell of his skin as I ran my tongue down his back and up to his neck.  I turned him around to face me and folded my legs on each side of him so that I sat comfortably on his abs.  I let my body linger there, imposing, towering over his.  My pecs hung heavy in the bottom frame of my vision.  I bounced them, just because I could.  I looked straight into his eyes, almond-colored, framed by long, dark, curly hair.  I loved the way he tried to move but could not make much of an impression.  He blushed a little bit.  He almost reminded me of myself a few days ago.

 

        What a different life that was.

        I moved closer and kissed him, gently.  I could feel his body tense with pleasure under me.  “Where’s your shirt?” I asked.  “On the side of the bed,” he said.  I casually reached for it and felt how light and small it was in my hands. “Do you mind if I try it on?” I said.  He nodded, trying to maintain his composure and pretend this was a normal request.  He was doing a subpar job of it.  Who could blame him?  I knew I had picked a good one.  A muscle junkie through and through.  And here I was to provide the fix.

 

        I lifted it over my head and from the very start I could feel how little of my body was going to squeeze into this tiny polo.  By the time my arm reached the sleeve I got stuck.  I fumbled awkwardly for a minute, wrestling this puny piece of fabric over my muscular frame.  He giggled, and I allowed it.  Finally I was pulling it down over my abs.  The fabric wrapped up each ab individually, like they had been covered in cellophane.  I ran my hand over it just to feel how tight I stretched the fabric.  I noticed as I looked down that the buttons sat undone and my upper chest was popping through.  I motioned to button them up, but there was obviously no way that they were going to come together.  I smiled down at him.  “You’ve gotta catch up, dude.  I can’t even button up your shirt.”  Throb, pulse.

 

        I lifted up my arms almost in auto-pilot.  I heard a tear.  Fuck, if I wasn’t hard already.  His dick responded too, jolting on the crevice of my ass.  I felt around to know what part of the shirt had torn.  It was the underside of the seam where the sleeve meets the body.  “I’ll lend you one of mine,” I said, unapologetically.  I left out that most of my shirts had succumb to a similar fate when I had tried to find just one that fit my massive frame.

       

         I tried as hard as I could to split the shirt around the bicep.  I wasn’t quite big enough yet.  But I would be.  It was only a matter of time.  Damn stretchy fabric.  But fuck if I didn’t look good filling them up.  Every last inch of it.  Approaching eighteen, last I had counted.  With that, the show was over.  I lifted the shirt off, this time with care to avoid the clumsy nature of its donning.  More tears, here and there.  I didn’t bother to avoid making them, it didn’t matter anymore.

 

        I got off of him and lifted him up, putting my arms under his knees and grabbing his torso.  His arms clasped about my neck, hands reaching down my back.  His hands were soft, and I could feel them navigate over the muscles in my back, exploring every bulge, solid, strong.  I sat on the edge of the bed, my arms the only thing preventing him falling from the ground.  I kissed him, in reassurance that I was not going to drop him.  His cock pressed against the tight, warm flesh of my abs, and his hands migrated over to my pecs, circling my nipples with his fingers.  That sensation was more erogenous than I expected, and I almost let him slip.  His body falling away from mine startled me, and I pulled him close again.  I took my cock, throbbing and begging for release, and pressed it right up against his hole.  Pre smeared across it, and I started stroking up and down. 

 

        I wanted release.  I grabbed him tighter and began to lift his ass up and down across my cock, my arms getting tired and swollen and all the more pumped as I kept using him like he was a fleshjack.  Before I knew it I was already about to cum.  I lifted him a little bit higher and brought my cock between us, cum spurting onto my chest and up to his chin. 

 

        “Now it’s your…” I touched his dick and within a few seconds he was gone.  His cum only managed to splash up against my abs, but it was appreciated nonetheless.  I couldn’t help but grin as his face was lost in the ecstasy of orgasm.

 

        I stood up, holding him, and walked over to my dresser.  I set him on top and pulled out a shirt, handing it to him with a towel.  “That’s for you.”  I gave one of those cheesy jock-like winks, and turned around to head to the bathroom.  I could feel his glare as my solid, round cheeks fell up and down with my stride.  I gave them a good flex (and threw in some calves too) before I left his view.

 

        It was time for a run.

 

 

        --

       

        An hour later I was outside.  The night air brushed against my skin, my entire torso free and exposed.  Darkness was my only company for most of the path until I reached the more suburban part of town.  I was alone even though my path was now lit.  Hardly anyone roamed about at this hour, and they wouldn’t have recognized me.  But I wanted them to see anyways.  To recognize me for what I had become.  My footsteps fell heavy on the ground and made echoes on the still houses, but I was hardly any slower than before.  It wasn’t long before I made it to Charlie’s place.  I stopped under a streetlamp, the light reflecting the prodigious results of my transformation.  He was in his garage, working on some old beat up truck that looked like it was from the 1950s.  No one else seemed to be home.  Despite the noisy footfall, he failed to notice me.

 

        I watched him for a moment.  His skin was dark under the fluorescent bulb hanging over him, his back solid and clinging tightly to his wife beater.  Every motion showed a muscle working, displayed the effortlessness that he carried himself with.  He pulled what must have been the oil dipstick out of its place, and the various muscles in his arms flexed to form dark shadows beneath them.  I felt a flush of embarrassment that I did not think I would ever feel again.

 

        “Hey,” I barked clumsily.  He paused for a moment and wiped his hands before he turned around.  He stared directly at me for a moment, the radiant jade of his eyes investigating my presence.  His brow folded in the slightest confusion, as if he were trying to decipher someone’s face in an old photograph.  And then he smiled.  Teeth white as an ivory tomb. 

 

        “Sup, little man.”

 

        Shit, he beat me to it.  Did he recognize me?  Or did he say that to everyone who passed by?  Now that his initial confusion had passed, there was no hint of alarm or concern on his face.  I started walking towards him, trying not to let my confidence falter as I stepped out of the streetlamp’s light.  I tried to convince myself there was no reason to let my conviction falter.  By now I must have been bigger than he was.  Stronger.  Nonetheless, he didn’t flinch.   Neither his stance nor his expression wavered at my approach.  And then we were face to face.  He leaned on the grill of his car, relaxed. 

 

         “What brings you around here?” he said casually. 

 

        I didn’t really know.  “Just out for a run,” was what came out of my mouth.

 

        “You seem to have been through a lot in the past few days,” he said.  He lifted his arm, and without thinking I grabbed it.  He did not seem to mind; if anything, he was amused.  I held my hand still too, at first.  His calm demeanor startled me.  I just needed to break his confidence; I had to make him know just how much stronger I was.  I pushed, and he gave just a little.  The thick bellies of my triceps knotted and I could see his forearm tighten up and strain against the force of my powerful arm, the thick calluses on my hands rubbing rough against his soft skin.  Still, forcing his arm back was more difficult than I anticipated.  I was winning, but just barely.  Meanwhile I could feel the blood rush to my cock even though I was using all of my strength.  “Say uncle,” I said.  I wanted him to admit it.  Without changing his expression, he opened his mouth and his face leaned in towards mine.  I almost expected a kiss.

 

        Instead I heard music.  Even though it must have come from him, it sounded rich and deep as though it were another person’s voice.  It resonated all around me like a bell, sonorous and pure despite its depth.  Between long notes, the melody rang with strange sounds that were akin to words that I did not recognize.  All of my anxiety and rivalry faded as the strange tune resounded in my ears.  My vision started to become hazy.  His golden arms blurred into the fluorescent lit background, his soft lips disappearing as everything began to go dark. 

 

        I felt my head fall on his chest.  It hummed with the bell’s tune.  I could not stay awake any longer.

 

 

      --

 

        I awoke as the sun was rising.  My head was still foggy, but not unpleasantly so, as I lifted out of my near comatose state.  My body was similarly sluggish and numb.  I felt clumsy as I attempted to orchestrate my way off the ground, feet stumbling in the grass.  I also discovered a ringing in my ears, but low and distant-sounding.  It faded slowly as clarity came back to me, my body regaining its composure.  Beams of sunlight loftily fell through the morning fog and landed on my silken skin.  I had not changed.  I gave my pecs a quick bounce just to be sure.  Still massive.

 

        Memories came back from last night slowly and sporadically, like mud through a sieve.  The details were mostly unclear, but my awakening here on the ground meant that I had lost.  Despite all of the changes I had gone through, Charlie was still stronger than me.  My heart fell into my chest, full of anguish.  I could not even remember how he managed to subdue me.

 

        But I had an idea on how to fix that.  I reached into my pocket to find my car keys.  There was a note inside.  It said:

 

        “Next time, make a better wish.”

 

        Whatever that meant.      

 

        I was fortunate enough to see Delilah’s car leave as I turned the corner on her street.  I didn’t know how to explain to her what had happened or my plan, and I wasn’t about to be talked out of it.  I parked at the end of the block and walked as casually as I could feign up to her doorstep.  The tacky porcelain frog that stood out harshly from the otherwise bare porch revealed her spare keys.  Luckily, they held one that opened her basement.  I threw it into the grass, not taking the time to remark how light it was for me now.

 

        The basement was even more cluttered than the last time I had been inside.  Old musty books full of pseudoscientific literature and what looked like very serious scholarly articles littered the tables and floor.  Clearly Delilah had devoted most of her free time to discovering what they were and how to make sure they didn’t kick the bucket in her care.  However she did it, it was working; they seemed just as irreverent and indignant as ever.  My arrival only seemed to encourage their frenzied buzzing.  Inside the dull plastic box, she had left a small bag of blood as their only company.  An iron meal for an iron bug.  I paused for a moment.

 

        No, this was what I wanted.  The risks were irrelevant.  I needed to get bigger.  Bigger than him.  Bigger than anyone.  That was all that mattered.

 

        I cautiously opened the container and slid my hand quickly over the opening as I removed the lid.  It was almost instant, the sting.  My hand clenched; fuck, it hurt.  But unlike our first encounter, it remained stuck in my skin.  I could feel it.  A warm, almost hot sensation emanated from the sting.  Like a hot summer day running through my blood, up my beefy arms and into the rest of my formidable body.  It flowed through me, saturating me with whatever chemical or enzyme or magic flowed from its metallic proboscis.  It felt as though I was going through the most intense workout I ever had while standing completely still.  It was completing me.  I was strong, alive, vibrant, unstoppable.

 

        Eventually the iron bug dropped from my hand, satiated.  It scuttled away lazily, finally ending its fervent rampage against its impregnable prison.  It seemed to shine crimson beneath its metallic sheen.  I slid the lid back on, careful not to let out the other bug that was still madly trying to escape.  Attempting to head towards the exit, I found myself dizzy with euphoria and my body was somewhat difficult to move.  My flesh felt hard to the touch, like an insane pump from a non-existent workout.  My blood was still warm, marked by a pleasant tingling.

 

        I don’t really remember getting back to my house.  I only remember putting the keys back under the frog and somehow finding myself lying under the sheets in my bed, wrapped up like a cocoon.  My blood was still warm, and the muscles beneath my skin were unbelievably tense, pumped, and changing into something even harder.  My cock matched them in turgor, fighting for attention.  But I was too busy wrapped up in the novel sensations to pay it any attention.  Soon the heat began to make me dizzy, and I started to drift off.  My eyes shut.  I smiled.  It worked.  I couldn’t wait to find out what I had done.

Part IV

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