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Four Chris was preparing his bag for his upcoming trip: he would be out of town for two weeks to compete in a level 1-event and the San Francisco-masters. He gazed up and turned his head around as he thought he heard a deep, beastly roar coming from the house next door. He gulped as it reminded him of his cousin's deep voice from his nightmare. "Must be imagining things", he said to himself and went into the bathroom to fetch some stuff. He had to grab the washbasin for support when a feeling of weakness fell over him. His vision went dark for a split second and his knees buckled while goose bumps appeared all over his body. He blinked a few times and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His tank top still clung to his well-trained, 215 pound frame but he could swear something was off: his wide, rounded shoulders that normally formed a strong line seemed to hunch forward slightly and his protruding pecs seemed to hang down a bit lower against his tank top as if his big muscles were pulled down by gravity. "Lack of sleep is getting to me", he said and discarded the thought. He grabbed his razor and toothbrush and put them in his bag. He tossed his bag over his shoulder and went downstairs. Next to his car keys on the kitchen table he found a note. "Some inspiration to bring back the gold" He turned the note around and discovered a picture of his girlfriend in her tiny, black bikini. He put the picture in his wallet and left, feeling a bit uneasy having to leave his girl behind. Ted had finished cleaning the cum-stained bathroom, pulled on a fresh tank top and his baggy hoodie and went out for a workout. He felt the energy flowing through his veins and his balls pulsing as they released amounts of testosterone in his body. He saw his cousin putting a bag in his car and headed over. "YO, Chrissy". Chris nearly jumped up as he heard the deep voice. He turned around and instinctively took a step back as he saw his big cousin strutting toward him. He looked up into 6 feet tall teen's eyes. Ted couldn't suppress a faint grin as he noticed his muscular cousin stepping back from him. "Recovered from our arm wrestling, Chrissy? Just say when ya want a rematch. I'ld love to wipe yar ass again", Ted said and intently stopped very close to his cousin. Chris gulped and tried not to look intimidated but his big cousin standing just inches in front of him, made him feel uncomfortably. His feeling of physical supremacy, regained during his shower-fuck, evaporated as he was reminded of his defeat. The musky smell surrounding the big guy added to his unease. "Just kiddin', Chrissy", Ted said and laughingly patted his cousin's muscular shoulder, "Ya going on a trip?". Chris relaxed a bit at the teen's smile but suppressed a grunt from the surprisingly hard pat. "Off two weeks to compete. Defending my titles.", he said while scanning his cousin's big frame hidden under the baggy hoodie. Ted followed his cousin's gaze and grabbed his right arm, playfully closing his big paw around the 20 inch bicep he destroyed last night. "How's yar arm feeling? Hurting after I crushed it?", he asked and clenched his paw some more around the hard muscle. "I'm fine", Chris said, his voice cracking slightly as his aching bicep was dented by the paw. He cleared his throat while the surprisingly hard grip released the strong orb of meat atop his right arm. "Could you do me a favor, Ted", he asked as he looked back up into his cousin's eyes. "Ya name it", Ted replied with a smug grin on his face. "Would you mind keeping an eye on Trisha? First time she can't come with me cause of her work. You're family and live next door, so…", Chris asked. "No worries, Chrissy. I'll take care of her", Ted answered. "Thanks a lot, Ted", Chris stated and extended his hand to his cousin. Ted grabbed his cousin's hand, his big paw engulfing it and shook it powerfully. Chris winced a little, a faint painful grunt escaping his mouth and pulled his hand from the strong grip. Or tried to. Ted grinned as he felt his cousin trying to break free. "See ya in two weeks, Chrissy", he said and opened his paw. Chris got in his car and drove off, seeing his cousin's smiling reflection in his side mirror. Jeremy put the voodoo doll at the bottom of his bag and left his uncle's gym in a hurry. He jumped into his car and raced off to the airport, happy he hadn't run into the teen beast and wouldn't have to see him for two weeks. He felt energy flowing through him and strutted proudly across the crowd. He noticed his rival Chris standing at the check-in and thought the guy already looked less intimidating. He followed him from a distance, feeling stronger and more confident by his rival diminished aura. He got in line for the flight a bit behind his rival and installed himself at the rear of the plane. Arriving in San Francisco, he took a cab to his hotel. He strutted through the hallway, checked in and got to his room on the second floor. As soon as he entered his room, Jeremy tossed his bag on the floor and fished out the voodoo doll. He went into the bathroom and stripped in front of the mirror. Strength flowed through his 209 pound body as he went through some poses, highlighting his excellent shape. He grabbed the doll and clenched his fist around it. Instantly, he felt more energy coursing through him. A few blocks away, Chris felt a sudden surge of weakness come over him in his hotel room. The room danced before his eyes, his knees buckled and he crashed down atop his bed. "Must be some kind of jetlag", he muttered to himself before passing out in a deep, dark sleep. "Yeah", Jeremy grunted to his reflection. He could swear his muscles were getting more defined in the mirror. He flexed his chest a final time, striations and veins pushed up against his skin and went to sleep as he gave the voodoo doll another squeeze. Back at home, Ted was having the workout of a lifetime. The double dose of his new steroid atop his usual dose of old steroids pumped energy and testosterone through his huge body. He had set new personal records on every lift, pushing more weight and pumping out more reps than ever. He'd been in the deserted gym, filling it with his grunts and roars, for three hours and moved into the final part of his grueling workout: smashing his arm muscles. His arms, together with his shoulders, had always responded best to his training. The 25 inch orbs of power atop his arms dwarfed his other huge muscles. "Let's see what my babies can with their new fuel", he groaned to himself as he grabbed the heaviest dumbbells. He raised the 130 pound dumbbells slowly and lowered them back down with perfect control. "Feels like a feather", he said and began cranking out perfect rep after perfect rep. Blood began flowing into the meaty masses, a web of veins branching off the thick vein that snaked from his delts over the biceps onto his thick forearms. "More", he gritted between his teeth as he kept moving the weight up and down, pumping more blood into his swelling biceps. In his sweatpants, his plump dick followed this lead and blood began inflating the thick shaft. "Bigger", he grunted in between fastening breaths. His pumped biceps began burning painfully, stretching his skin as he forced the muscles to grow bigger. The burning sensation turned into a stabbing pump, his arms shaking from the effort but Ted kept cranking out reps. His dick had hardened fully, its 10 inches tenting the front of his sweatpants and a small dark patch forming where his precum flowed from the dark red head. "50", he grunted as he lifted the dumbbells a final time and tossed them on the floor. He ripped off his sweat drenched tank top and moved in front of the big mirror. He extended his arms, marveling at the size of the stretched, shiny red biceps. He brought in his forearms, his arms shaking with cramps as the pumped muscles protested against the command of flexing. His biceps balled outward into perfectly rounded orbs that swelled atop his arms; their peaks rose up and up and up, a web of curly veins pushed up against his stretching skin. "FU…UGH…UGH…UGH…CK", he roared as his biceps swelled beyond their familiar 25 inches and stopped just over 26. His dick jolted, its dark red head popping up over his waistband and exploded: cum geysered upward in the air, splattering against his face, pecs and abs. Ted lowered his left hand and stroked his spasming shaft, coating the mirror and the weights with his thick cum while he kept flexing his beastly right arm. After ten blasts, his orgasm wore down and Ted grinned at his cum-drenched reflection in the cum-stained mirror. He lowered his right arm and strutted toward the shower, jerking off once more as the hot water cascading down on his pumped muscles pulled his cock back to hardness. A few days went by and the level 1-event leading up to the San Francisco masters began. Even though he weighted exactly the same as he did during his previous competition, Chris' body seemed somehow less intimidating. But as usual the champ cruised through the opening rounds, his 215 pound physique still besting his opponents, and proceeded to the final. Jeremy came in radiating confidence as he felt the energy from the curse flowing through his 209 pound body. His flexing was more graceful than ever and he too cruised into the semis. There, his road into the finals was surprisingly blocked by Tom, a local athlete that had been handed a wildcard into the event. Jeremy outsized Tom by a good 10 pounds, but was less ripped: the thin layer of fat covering his muscles from his winter bulk, made him look softer than the 199 pound Tom. The guy's vacuum ab-pose handed him the ticket into the final, leaving Jeremy frustrated on stage. Chris didn't really care about his opponent: he'd always focused on his own physique and continued this approach. In the final, the 16 pound difference he held, secured his win. He outsized the local guy in every pose and his own ripped yet seemingly lessened body dominated in every pose. Tom tried putting up a good show but whatever he tried, the champ did better. When Chris threw his signature pose, the back double bicep, Tom just stared in awe as the muscles on the champ's wide back mounded against each other and his intimidating arms rose into their 21 inched orbs of hard meat. Tom shook the champ's hand and gladly accepted second place with a smile as broad as Chris' one. Jeremy was in a foul mood back in his hotel room. He could accept his loss to Tom: he had been neglecting his own training because of the voodoo curse and his own physique was a bit off. But the news off Chris's victory made him roar in anger. He grabbed the voodoo doll and squeezed it with all his might. Instantly, a wave of energy flowed through him. "I'll get back to him next week at the master-event", he said and went to bed. The week went by and soon enough the San Francisco masters were up. Jeremy felt more energized with every passing day and felt atop his game going into the competition. He easily won his opening line up and the next round. In the quarter finals however, he bumped into Tom again. Just like a week earlier, the guy's rippedness sealed Jeremy's faith: the judges unanimously declared Tom the winner of the line up and made him advance to the semis. Jeremy's frustration nearly exploded as he heard that his big rival Chris was cruising through the competition and was to meet Tom in the final on Sunday. The night before the big final the full moon illuminated the San Francisco sky. In his bed Jeremy felt an enormous wave of energy hitting his body. He awoke from his deep sleep and stumbled into the bathroom, gasping at his reflection as he turned on the light: most of his body fat seemed to have evaporated from his body. He looked a good 20 pounds lighter but striations and veins decorated his relaxed muscles. " All my fat must have gone to Chris", he said and returned to bed. The final got underway but from the beginning it was clear that Chris would win. The 20 pounds of fat that had somehow beefed him up, had softened his intimidating muscles but handed him an 36 pound advantage on his opponent. Tom came in at his prime: ripped and vascular but his 199 pound physique was simply overshadowed by the champ. Chris' huge muscles looked a bit saggy and his flexes lacked their usual explosion of masculinity, but his size simply couldn't be denied. Tom did beat him in the vacuum ab-pose but lacked the real size in the other flexes. Chris took the win, his sixth consecutive master-event and prepared himself to get home. Back at home Ted's two weeks had gone by like a breeze: he'd had the most fantastic workouts ever and was horny all day. His gains had been fairly slow, only 5 pounds, but his housemate had told him to be patient with the experimental stuff. He got home from the gym and stepped out of his car and stepped over to the house next door. He took the spare key Trisha had given him and went in. He looked around the house to check if everything was ok. "What took you?". Ted turned around to find Trisha standing naked atop the stairs. He rushed up, pulled down his sweatpants as he reached her to free his hardening cock, pushed Trisha back against the wall and eagerly pushed his rock-hard 10 incher inside her. "Oh God", she grunted as the thick shaft invaded her. Ted kept pushing more and more of his dick into her tight pussy. "Yeah. So much bigger than Chris. God", Trisha groaned as the thick snake pushed deeper inside her. When half of Ted's cock was inside her, spasms shot through her frail 120 pound body and her juices flowed along the hot pole. Ted felt the wetness along his rock-hard shaft and drove two more inches of his meat into her. He positioned his hands against the wall and began driving his cock back and forth into her, gently. Incoherent sounds escaped Trisha's mouth, her hands clawed into the hoodie covering Ted's torso as the teen beast began fucking her. She was being shoved up against the wall by the force of his trusts, her eyes widening in disbelief and sheer lust as her feet left the floor. Ted's big balls drew tight and began to churn as he completely dominated his cousin's girlfriend, supporting her with just his 10 incher. "YEAUGHN!", he bellowed deeply as his orgasm exploded into her, filling her with his sticky juice. Black dots of pleasure danced in Trisha's sight and she fell limp against the teen beast, her head resting atop his protruding, heaving pecs. Ted felt the pressure build around his cock as more loads blasted from his balls into Trisha. Cum was already sliding from her, flowing along the exposed three inches of his cock onto his balls before sliding along the crevices of his thick thighs. After ten blasts his orgasm cooled down and he slowly withdrew from Trisha. He wrapped his right arm around her, easily lifting her up against his big frame, pulled up his pants with his left hand and carried her to bed. He gently put her atop the bed and went home.

Here are the next two installments of my story, I hope you like them as much as I enjoyed writing them! Parts 1-3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6460-dont-stop-parts-1-3/ PART 4: While Andrew was getting off on his improved physique, Nicole was wondering if she was moving too quickly. She hadn’t counted on him getting taller and more muscular so quickly, but she couldn’t deny that she wasn’t getting off on his improvements too. “Especially,” she though, “his biggest improvement.” She couldn’t stop thinking about how great their sex was and about how much more he was filling her up now than the night before, and she started to get wet. Her hands almost automatically drifted to her dripping pussy and started massaging herself. In almost no time she was moaning and gyrating thinking about how much more Andrew will be changing in just a few hours… Andrew had started masturbating almost as soon as he threw the ruler down on the bathroom floor. His dick felt so much thicker in his hand than before and so much more powerful. He ran his hands up and down his abs feeling the small ridges that he hoped would soon get deeper. He cupped his right bicep with his free left hand feeling how round and hard it was. He could feel it flexing and unflexing as his stroking got faster and harder, thinking about how it could get so much bigger if he started working out more. And just like that he felt a freight train rolling up through his balls and abs until he came all over his bathroom mirror. This wasn’t a small load either. This may have been the biggest load of his young life as he shot six thick streams of milky white cum all over the sink. He almost felt embarrassed that felt as good if not better than the sex he had just had with Nicole a few hours ago, but he chalked that up to having a bigger penis now. Just as he finished cumming he heard Nicole gasp and scream from his bedroom. He ran to her thinking something was going horribly wrong, but when he reached the bed he saw that she was just masturbating and had just orgasmed. In her sex-crazed state she grabbed his still hard dick and pulled him into bed, threw him down, and pulled of his pajama bottoms. She needed to feel his bigger dick in her mouth now, and she knew that she could make it bigger too. Andrew was having the time of his life. Just two days ago he had been a shorter, fatter, less confident student who had never had sex before in his life. Now he had the girl of his dreams pulling his pants off to give him his fourth blowjob in just two days. He had the added bonus of having just cum a few minute earlier, so he lasted a lot longer than usual. He was riding high on endorphins and starting to fall madly in love with Nicole. Everything was going well for him, and he finally felt truly happy for the first time in his life. And with that beautiful thought, he orgasmed. It was so powerful and thick he was afraid he might drown Nicole in his jizz, but she was a trooper and greedily sucked down every sweet drop. Andrew started to sit up once he felt his orgasm finally subside, but Nicole pushed him down again and sexily said, “Oh I’m not done yet, I’m still thirsty.” Andrew was only too happy to comply, although he did think it was a little strange that he could get hard so soon after cumin twice in just a little under a half hour. But once his cock started plumping up in her mouth again, he definitely stopped worrying and started basking in the pleasure she was providing him. The couple only got to sleep an hour later after Nicole had finished blowing Andrew for the fourth time. It seemed to him like she was addicted to his dick, but he had no idea about her ulterior motives. He just knew that he felt completely drained and would need to drink a gallon of water the next day to rehydrate his balls after the epic cumming he had just done. He knew it was 4:30 am, but he didn’t have class the next day, so he turned off his alarm and decided to sleep in the next day. Nicole fell asleep next to her soon to be improved boyfriend wondering if four doses in one hour was too much, but she realized that what was done was done. She was too committed to stop now. PART 5: Andrew woke up, even more peacefully than the day before. He rolled over and saw that Nicole had already left. He reasoned that she probably had to get to lab early, but he was still somewhat disappointed that he didn’t wake up to her gently sucking his dick like the day before. He rolled over on to his other side to check just how late he had slept in. He was shocked to see that it was already 2:00pm. He jumped out of bed, ran to the bathroom, and was about to jump into the shower when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in his bathroom mirror. The first thing he noticed was that his mirror was still caked in his dry cum from last night, but the next thing he notices was that he had transformed even more than he had noticed the night before. He was muscular now. Not bodybuilder muscular, but he could easily get hired as a fitness model by any supplement company. His pecs were round and firm and protruded an inch from his body. He tried flexing them and was surprised when they bounced way more than he thought they could. Looking above his pecs he noticed that his traps had grown significantly and that his neck was almost as wide as his head. His shoulders were so broad he was worried that he might have some trouble going through narrow doors now, and they were large enough that he could easily make out the heads of his delts. Turning his attention to his arms he noticed a large vein crawling over the top of his much bigger bicep. He did a double bicep pose in the mirror and could see nice clean split heads in his biceps. He could also tell that his arms had gotten to be at least 16 inches around (although he made a mental note to actually measure them later). His triceps looked swollen and hung from his arms like fleshy horseshoes. His forearms had also gotten much larger even though they were pretty large to begin with because of Andrew’s masturbation habits. Below his pecs lay a perfect cobblestone six pack with deep ridges just like he had hoped for the previous night. He flexed his stomach hard and could almost make out the beginnings of his last two abs. Even though he was proud of his six pack, deep down he didn’t think it was enough; he wanted his eight pack to show. His legs had finally made considerable gains and now looked thick and powerful. His calves had the beginnings of a strong diamond shape and made his look like he never skipped leg day. His upper legs had a width and thickness to them that made Andrew realize that he could easily be called “thunder thighs” and it wouldn’t be sarcastic. Turning his attention away from his sexy muscles (“Whoa,” Andrew thought, “did I just call myself sexy?”), he noticed he was much hairier than before. His face a nice even coating of five o’clock shadow. He ran his hands up and down his cheeks and felt just how bristly and manly he felt because of it. “I can probably grow a beard now,” he thought proudly. His chest was also covered in a light even coating of soft dark hairs that lead to a confident treasure trail leading to his crotch. His legs were also very hairy now, covered in thick wiry hair that was very noticeable “and very manly,” he thought. He was probably one of the hairiest Asian men that he knew at Cornell, but he still had nothing on some of the White guys who even as freshmen had sported thick full beards and chest hair. “Maybe soon…” he thought. As he looked down at his legs he noticed that the floor seemed farther away than usual. His growth spurt from the night before had dramatically increased his height. Like most kids, Andrew’s mom had kept a height chart on his bathroom doorframe to mark how much he had grown. His mom insisted that he continue the tradition while away from college even though he had almost fully completed puberty by the time he got to Cornell, and as expected, he had only grown a quarter inch in four years. However, this height chart now came in handy as he could easily see that he had grown significantly overnight. Getting out his tape measure he determined that he had grown to be 5’ 9”, an increase of four inches in the past two days alone. He was finally within average height range for men in the U.S. and well above average height for Asian men. All of his changes started to make Andrew aroused which drew his attention to his final change he hadn’t noticed because he was still wearing his now too short pajama bottoms. He almost cried tears of joy after pulling them down to his ankles and looking at his penis. It was magnificent. His ruler told him that he was now 4.5 inches flaccid, but his cock didn’t stay soft for long. It soon jumped to attention and ended up at its new rock hard length of 7 inches with a girth of 5 inches. He could hardly fit his whole hand around it and noticed with great happiness that he could almost fit a second hand on top of the first. All of a sudden Andrew realized that his life had transformed into something perfect and his endorphins rushed. He grabbed his bottle of lotion and begin furious masturbating to his own image. Pictures of Nicole and of their sex flashed in front of his eyes, but he was mostly focuses on the sexy facial hair, the beautiful biceps, his thick thighs, and his big cock. It took him no time to cum, having the greatest orgasm of his life (a feat which he seemed to be achieving every day now). His orgasm lasted for a minute, and his dick never stopped shooting thick ropes of spunk coating every surface in the room. After what seemed like an eternity, Andrew regained sensibility and decided to take a shower. He could clean up the bathroom later. However, his dick had plans of its own and decided not to soften at all. “Well, I guess I have no choice,” Andrew said with a stupid grin on his face. His shower lasted four times longer than normal and he masturbated an extra three times, each time cumming harder than the last. After stepping out of the shower he returned to his bed where he continued his epic jerk off session. He didn’t even look at the clock, he just kept going and going and going. He finally had to stop when he realized he needed to take another shower to clean the cum off of him that his Kleenexes couldn’t get. Looking at his clock now he realized that three hours had passed. Taking about 10 minutes to cum each time, Andrew then estimated that he had just masturbated 18 times in a row without stopping or running out of semen. He knew this wasn’t normal and this shouldn’t be happening, but he didn’t want to stop.

Umpires by F_R_Eaky Part III Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6120-umpires-part-one-by-freaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6180-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-ii/ Callum tried to call out for help, but the campus was deserted; everyone was partying for the week end at Dubbdub Hall. Realizing no one was going to come to his aid, Callum started dragging Connor towards his dormitory. Once there he was able to get the desk attendant help him carry Connor to his dorm room, explaining that the pair had run into a belligerent drunk out on the quad who decked Connor and ran away. The clerk commented that since Connor was completely out and a large wet spot on his groin, they should probably get Connor looked at in the hospital for a concussion. Callum explained it was alright as he was a pre-med student, son of a prominent neuro doctor and could take care of his "roomie" once there. The clerk shrugged a "whatever" and walked down the hall towards the elevators to go back to his post. Staring at Connor for a bit, Callum wondered what to do. He thought that Connor, for a stalker, wasn't too bad looking. His face peaceful and handsome in unconsciousness. Deep, dark, burnt umber hair cascading into his face, over his eyes. Almost a member of the tall set, his long lithe 6' 1" track style body stretched out across the bed of Callum's roommate. No worries there; the roommate was on a trip back to the parent's house and wouldn't be back until late Sunday evening. Callum wished he could do something to help out Connor, more in the area of his creamed underpants. That'll hurt like hell once it dries, but it would be inappropriate for him to undo the pants of someone he doesn't know, let alone wash his privates. Instead Callum placed a few good pillows under Connor's head, laid a bar of soap and washrag and a towel at the head of the bed, and then went down and pulled off Connor's sneakers so at least his feet wouldn't sweat to death while Connor was asleep. "Damn!" Thought Callum. "He's got some big ass feet, even for his height. But, he's not that much taller than me." Indeed. Most of the guys Callum knew between the 5' 11", his height, to 6' 3 - 4" range of height usually wore a US Men's size 12, himself included. Sometimes a size larger or smaller, but Connor's feet were pretty damn huge. "No wonder this guy is on the track team. He jump starts with these feet and just the motion of rolling forward on the balls of his feet should propel him a foot...." Checking the inside of the tennis shoes, Callum could make out the size tag and read it as size sixteen and half. Callum's heart leapt up....Connor does have big feet. Callum liked big feet. He liked big men period. He always wanted to be a big man too. Despite being in the nerd class according to most of society, he had always managed to keep up a good, decently in shape and strong build. He tried for years to push himself further and harder to go beyond his "light" trainer's build, but it never happened. Not only had his body stopped growing up at five foot eleven, but it refused to gain any more muscle weight as well. Sitting there for a while staring hard at nothing, Callum began to smell the musky scent coming off of Connor's big dogs. The feet didn't stink, but they definitely had a scent to them and it was beginning to arouse Callum. Looking up to see if Connor was stirring, Callum began to peel a sock off of Connor's left foot. Once uncloaked, Callum marveled at Connor's foot. Studying the lines of veins crossing this way and that over it. He held it and felt its heft in his two hands and began to caress the long but strong toes. "hmmmmmm" Callum nearly dropped Connor's foot so that it would've hit the end of the bed. Fearing that Connor was becoming conscious, Callum tried to hide what he was doing by placing a pillow under Connor's left foot and then grabbed a frozen pita pocket out of his personal fridge and placed it on top of the ankle. He then crawled into his bed, faced the wall to hide his growing erection, and drifted off to sleep. Rising early in the morning since their encounter and fainting only took place around ten in the evening, Callum turned over on his bed and looked across his dorm room. Connor was gone. After looking around he noticed that on the desk that made his head board was the soap, the washcloth, and towel used but neatly laid out to dry. There was also a note that said, "Thanks" with three dollars on top of it, and a drawn arrow pointing over the desk edge and down to the waste basket where lied the limp, soggy, and warm hot pocket still in its wrapper. **************************************************************************** "I'm telling you guys, he's got to be one of us!" "Connor, I'm not buying it. Unless you're on the track field, you are usually an unconcentrated mess." "Not when it comes to our powers and what we can do, Sebastian! I'm telling you, I've tried like three times, full on concentration, like full mind power of Professor Charles Xavier of the X-men and nothing happened. He should have size 33 feet by now!" Saturday afternoon and the "strangers" have hooked up, except for Zachary who was on his way back from a morning wrestling meet. "Look, Rabbit, I'm with Bast on this. Usually you're the one of us to get distracted. Can't focus. Can't concentrate." "And, might I add to Mas's statement," Sebastian said, "You're also the one who usually chants the least, afraid you're going to give someone clown feet for real, so I doubt you've been concentrating and chanting enough on him that he'd suddenly have skis for feet." "Ho, guys!" "Hey, Zach." "Someone have feet for skis? Who we talkin' about, Callum Addams?" "YES!... Woode, you've got to tell them about Callum. I've been trying and they don't believe me." "Wait, so both of you have been concentrating on him?" "Yeah, Bast. I did one day after Connor told me he had two attempts and nothing happened. I figured it's be okay because it if wound up working, the kid could then be one of those guys who winds up proving the wife's tale about big shoe size and feet means you have a huge dick." "So, what happened?" "Nothing. It looked like he felt something, discomfort maybe, but there was no rise in his crotch bulge." "SEE! And when I did it he didn't start limping around like his shoes were too small or his feet burst out of them." The quintet stood there in a silence that hung longer and heavier than Jonah Falcon's cock. Finally Brook broke that silence. "You know Zach concentrates. Him and I both do because we can't afford to make men look like it reads, 'inflate to 3,000 pounds per square inch' across their genitals, even with Zach liking his men hung. So, what are we going to do Bast?" "I'm not sure." "Hon, you know the only people who aren't affected by our powers are others like us." "One other, Mason. There's only one other, and I am aware of that. Taking him on though... what is his power going to be? What can he increase?" "The Great Booke of the Family doesn't say?" "No. It just lets us know there is one other. A legend, really. Not a member of our family, yet somehow born of it. What else could it be? I grant muscle size and strength, you grant height, Woode grants cock size, Brook - testicle size and increased sperm count, and Rabbit...our lil' Connor boy, grants bigger feet. The only thing left would be the mind." "He is a little nerdy...very bright.... here on a scholarship." said Connor. "It's one thing to have men our age suddenly shoot up in height and musculature and all, but I don't think we could hide nor have accepted increased head size." Mason came up behind Sebastian and wrapped his arms around the other man's shoulder and waist line in a hug. "So, babe.... what do we do?" "I don't know....I'm just not sure. We need to see what kind of guy he is personally." Connor spoke up, "He's a really nice guy. Everyone I've been able to speak to about him have said really nice things and... and....." The rest of the quintet turned and faced Connor. "Out with it...." "Nothing really, it's just... he caught me last night." "Caught you? He confronted you?" "Yes." "What did you say?" "Nothing. I didn't get a chance to. You four were making out and then started chanting my word." "Oh gawd!" "I tried to resist.... but suddenly I came like nobody's business and passed out. He drug me back to his dorm room..." "And did what?!?" "Nothing! He did nothing." "He left you full of cum coated shorts?" "Yes. Took me an hour and a half in the shower this morning to get them peeled off. He thought I passed out from something. He knew I had creamed myself, but he left a washrag, towel, and soap near my head, and he did take off one of my shoes and socks." "He took off one of your shoes and socks?!?" "Yeah, but I don't think he realized both my dawgs were huge. He elevated that bare foot and then placed a frozen hot pocket on it to ice it down." Mason looked at Sebastian. "Very gentlemanly of him." Zach stepped forward, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, but what did he do before hand?" "Uhm....." Connor blushed. "I think he tried to massage my foot..." "You think?" "Alright, I'm pretty sure he was caressing and admiring it!" "Aha! Despite you stalking him, he found you cute and he likes big feet." Mason asked again, "Hon, what are going to do?" Sebastian sighed deeply.... "First thing is determine if he is one of us. Zach, Brook, go get the room ready. Connor, you said you've been following him?" "Yeah." "You know his routine pretty well then?" "Of course." "Alright. Tonight then, let us plan a proper introduction." ************************************************************************** It's ten till seven p.m. in the evening on Saturday night. Callum has gone to the library to get some extra studying done to try and clear his head of an image, an image he finds sexy. It is of a foot, and he can imagine it as a pair of feet, thinking that like most people, usually the right foot is close to a mirror image of the left. The owner of these feet he has found to be handsome as well, but the personality he knows nothing about. Well, except perhaps this guy is a stalker and is infatuated with him. Hoping to get studying done, Callum sighed about fifteen minutes ago and realized he wasn't going to get any work done, nor keep his mind off of his personal observer when this was the last building in which he caught the man stalking him. He packed up his back pack and walked out of the Library. "Why was he stalking me?" Callum thought. "Why are his feet so huge? Gawd! Why do his feet have to be sooooo...what? What the hell are feet anyway? Can you call them handsome? Or sexy? Why can't I get them out of my mind? Why am I thinking of his face? What is this I'm feeling and does it having anything to do with that sensation that happens when he's watching me from afar?" Letting out an exasperated blast of breath, Callum switch directions to change paths from his dormitory to go to a cabin. The grounds of the college were very nice and spacious and abutted against many a private, wooded property, one of which was actually the grounds for a lake. This parcel had many a secluded cabin with gardens and yards tucked in little forested cul-de-sacs which many professors rented to live in permanently or temporarily during the school year, or tourists used during the summer. Having held some very successful summer jobs and investments before starting college, Callum was able to rent one for the school year, which he knew he would need from time to time to get away from the noise and crowding of college life and company. But suddenly, there was a man, a fairly large man standing in the new path. He was broad, he was tall, he could probably easily take Callum down. Then... Callum felt it. That odd sensation he'd felt several times over the last couple of weeks. Striking him in the pit of the stomach, it spread out and radiated through his body, along his limbs, over his digits and out the finger and toe tips. "Whoa!" Callum shook his head. This time it was stronger than before. Not as a bad as about a week ago, but still somehow stronger. He looked down the path again and saw his adversary. Although unable to see his face, Callum could tell that the man was staring him down and staring him down with fierce intent. Quickly he turned and went to go a different direction. He made down this third path a number of feet until he came across another adversary. This one was quite a bit taller, maybe just as broad but not as heavily built. The sensation smacked him again in both the stomach and then the head, when he realized the sensation was the same as he just felt, but from two different type of people. Running back up the path, he broke out onto a more main one and attempted to take a fourth which turned out to be blocked by a third gentleman. Again, due to shadows he couldn't see the man's face but he could tell the shape and style of clothes. It was Connor. "What are you trying to do to me? Stalk me with a team?" Yelled Callum as he turned to run for another path, only to freeze to a staggering halt as the sensation over came him again. The quad. He had to make it back to the quad; there he would be safe. Turning to go down a fifth path to short cut to the quad, he came to an abrupt halt as there was another man in his way. This one was about his same height and build, perhaps a little heavier, but unfortunately he was also hiding in the shadows so that his face couldn't be seen. Callum nearly doubled over as if punched this time when the sensation hit him. Catching himself, he stood and began sprinting down the main path and hopefully to freedom. Yet again, there was a man. A tall, lanky figure of a man like some kind of damned toll booth officer in some scary medieval children's story. There was the sensation again, but afterwards, this time, the man began to approach him. Turning on his heels, Callum began a full out run as though he was a track star and ran right into what felt like a brick wall. "Hoooof!" "Easy there, friend. Yes, we are your friends, we may even be cousins. We needed to find out. Come with us and we'll explain everything." The man picked him up with ease in a fire man carry and began to take him down the paths, closer to where the dorms are located. Once there another man came up to him and gagged him, just as he began to get his breath and see straight after his collision with the behemoth that was carrying him. He was placed onto his feet and forced to crouch down amongst a line of bushes. "Callum.... we don't want to hurt you, and what we're going to explain to you sounds crazy, utter lunatic in thought, but we need you to watch and listen to us so you'll understand and then we'll give you some other answers later." Callum's eyes adjusting to the darkness, he began to make out his kidnappers... the Strangwich Strangers. "Listen... you've been feeling things and seeing one of us following you around quite a bit lately and there's a reason for that. You see we have this strange ability...abilities, as it is different for each one of us. We can make men grow. We can make women to a small extant grow too, but the thing of it is, we can't make ourselves grow. All the concentration and chanting we do at one another won't do a bit of good. This is how we met. How we discovered and knew we were related: our powers don't work on each other. That's what you have been feeling. Our powers have been striking you but haven't done anything to you. The only reason for that is you have to be one of us. "Now, I understand you're not going to believe us. Magical powers and all of that, like some kind of X-man mutant or Harry Potter magic shit. Trust me though, it's real. Feel again and then watch." The man stood up in front of Callum, looked him dead in the eye and then said firmly, "PUMP!" The sensation came over him again and then dissipated. It happened again four more times as the rest of the quintet stood in front of him and said their word. "You can feel that sensation, but nothing is happening, so we will need to prove ourselves and powers to you in some fashion. Look to the two corner windows of this dorm building and listen carefully." Callum glared at his captors but eventually stare through the bush and across the yard at the dorm windows. The window on the left corner there was a the silhouette of a man and a woman making out against the shade. The shadows disappeared slightly as the man leaned the woman back and they lay out, presumably, across a bed. Shortly there was some moans and grunts, although they sounded mainly masculine. Those became overshadowed by the sound of a shrill woman's voice. "Oh!.... Can't you put some more feeling into it? You need more motion to you ocean to make up for you being the captain of a dingy instead of a cruise ship!" There were more complaints about the tool with which the man was working and fucking the lady, but Sebastian whispered over them. "Poor dude. He's not a bad looking guy: around six feet tall, slight trainers kind of build, decent face, but if lacked any more in the penis department, you'd swear he was born with two belly buttons. This guy happens to be very savvy in the stocks & bonds, financial area so he's kind of loaded, and that's pretty much the only reason why this lady is with him. He takes her taunting and cruelty because he figures he's never going to get another lady to date him or be with him once they've seen what he has. "Over in the opposite corner dorm, we have a similar but slightly different story. There is a homosexual couple, and they are deeply in love for all the right and decent reasons, but one of them has a slight problem. His dick is ok... decent enough to work with, although nothing to write porn stars about, but his nads are so small one would almost swear he was a unic, a castrati, and man who was fix like a dog." Concentrating they then listened a little to the conversation of the silhouettes from that other dorm, who like the set before had embraced, kissed, and presumably assumed a reclining position on a bed or couch. "Ooooh.... mmmmmm....slurp....yeah baby give it to me... let me take...hmmmmmmmmm your seed." Sebastian whispered near Callum's ear. "Unfortunately for that one, when the seed does come it won't even be enough to wet the tip of his tongue. But now enter us, or in this case, specifically Zachary and Brook. Zachary's ability is to increase a man's penis length and girth, while Brook's is the ability to increase a man's testicle size and sperm count. Gentlemen, do your thing." And with that, Zachary and Brook first turned to look at and concentrate on the man in the left side door room. "Let's have him feel it first in his balls just a little addition there..." said Brook. "plump.....Plump....PLUMP!" "Oooooooh....." the man began to moan low and soft at first. It became a little louder and longer after a bit. "Now," said Zachary, "We give him what he and his lady friend wants. hump...." "Ooooh" "Hump....Hump....Hump....Hump...." "Oooooohhhh aaaaahhhh hmmmmmm" "Ah-OH! OH! Baby... you're actually beginning to learn to use that little pea shooter." "HUMP! HUMP!" "HMMMMMMMRRRRGH! OOOOH GAWD!" "AAAUUUUH! OH! SHIT! OOOOH BABY! Wha...? What's happening? You're filling me so well! AUUH! AUUUUH! OH GAWD! GAWD! YES! YES!...." "HUMP! HUMP! HUMP!" "EER! HUH! EER! HMMMM! YEAH! FUCK! SO! TIGHT!" "YES! YE-AAAUGH! OH! OH! WHAT THE AWWWWG! FUCK! SO BIG! TOO HUGE! SHIT IT HURTS! OH MY .....GAWD!" "AAAAWW YEEEEAH YOU LIKE IT NOW? AM I BIG ENOUGH FOR YOU?!" "AUUUUUGH NO! TOOO....SHIT! HUUUUUUUUNNNNNNGH!" "HMMMMMMM AH HMMMMMMMMMM MMMM yyyyyYYYYYEAH! FEEELS SO... SOOO... AH-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH HOOO MAN! I'M A GOD NOW!" "OH! WHAT WAS? DID....DID YOUR....OOOH AHHH UUUGH DID YOUR COCK JUST TEAR THE CONDOM? OHHH?" "TEAR THE CONDOM? OOOOOH YEAH....IT...IT... IT DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIID! HUH HUH HUH!" "OOOH NO NO! DON'T CUM... DON'T CUM NO YOU NEED A NEW CONDOM FIRST! AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!" POP! "AUUUUUGH FUCK YEAH! LOOK AT THIS BILLY CLUB!" "Ry....Ryan.... I might get pregnant.... I'm off my pills. You can't have a huge dick..." "Why not? I've had a huge cunt all this time!" "Ryan!" "No, Sheila! You've been with me because you want my money. You haven't cared about as a person ever. You've belittled me because I wasn't endowed. You've gone through my check book and bank account statements. Don't tell me you haven't; there are nail polish smudges on the envelopes and statements! I've stayed with you and put up with your shit because I thought no woman would every have me after they saw my lack of equipment. I didn't need nor wanted to be hung like a horse. Just an average dick would've done. That's all I prayed and asked for, but since this has happened....I'm not going to complain, just buy new accommodating pants." "You're not thinking of leaving me now! Your horse prong split the condom. You have to take care of me!" "No, I have to take care of the child, if you care to carry it. I'll be making enough money to help raise him or her, I'll even take the child off your hands if you don't want him or her, but I'm not staying with you. Don't need to now." There was the rustling sound of clothes being hurriedly put on, keys grabbed, and the sound of a couple of doors slamming. "You created a monster." Callum said mumbly through his gag. "He's feeling very powerful and lost in lust and virility right now," said Sebastian, "but it will wear off and he'll calm down to his regular self. However, he won't go back to her. She really has been secretly going through his check and savings books. She doesn't really care about him and never has. In fact, she's been seeing Brandon the football Captain on the side for the last couple of weeks." The six men then turned their attention to the other dorm room and Zachary and Brook did their thing again. "hump...Hump....HUMP!" "hmmmmmm hmmmmm (gag) uhhhch (pop) Uhmmmm Guy? Have you been using a penis pump or something?" "No... why?" "You cock just seems.... so much....bigger...." "What do you want to do? Stop, suck still, or have me hump your fine ass?" "Let's hump...." And the two men repositioned themselves and began to go at it. "aaah...ahhh OH! GUY!...." "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm fuuuuuuuuck.... Clint.... you controlling your hole? You feel so...hmmmmmmmmm tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!" "OH GAWD! Guy! Oh.....man....." "Hmmmmmm huh...huh.... oh....oooooh....yes..... auuuh...." "Hump!" "Zachary!" "What? Both of them can handle one more inch. He's only eleven." "Like Ryan is now only twelve... Brook, your turn." "Plump....Plump....PLUMP.....PLUMP!" Guy began to feel a tingling over his balls. It increased the tremendous amount of pleasure he was receiving from his cock as he plunged deeper and deeper into Clint's ass. The new sensation of racking himself while having sex as his ever increasing in size balls began to heavily slam against Clint's buttocks. "Hmmmmmmr hmmmmr hmmmr huh-uh-huh-uh-huh...ooooooh" "OH! OH! OH! FUCK! AUUUGH! oooooh.... you're sooo big! Auwwww gawd, Guy.... I...I...AYIEEEE....I LOVE IT!" "Hmmmmm hoooo hoooo....hoooo... you love me huge?" "Hmmmmm fuck yeah! Ramp... OOOH..... up your weight training...AH! FUCK! OOOH! Become a huge dom for me. OOOOOH!" Mason leaned in towards Sebastian. "I think that's a cue for us to join in just a little." "After your lead, hon." "Trump...Trump...Trump....Trump!" "Pump....Pump....Pump....Pump!" Guy's frame began to rise up taller and broader, which in turn meant Clint's ass began to rise up off the bed a bit higher and higher. Clint stared up the length of his body to his lover at the end and his eyes began to grow wider and wider. Guy rose up to an impressive 6' 4" tall, and of course he cock and balls became slightly larger growing in proportion to the new frame size. Then Guy's muscles began to hunch and bunch, pulling in, expanding out. Lines and ridges of definition began to appear all up and down his body as his muscle heads and bellies began to inflate, bloat up, and then slightly shrink in to a very chiseled and defined state. He was smooth, taught, and hard. Guy now looked like a very tall gymnast who had to keep adjusting his stance, while fucking, as his muscles grew in and out. Clint was watching in awe, noticing the streams of sweat as the travelled down Guy's body. No longer did they simply flow straight down and off. No, now they had to rise and fall, sweep and curve over many a different mounding mass of muscle: down the brown, over the cheek bones, under the jaw line, around the chorded neck, sliding down the traps, pooling a bit at the clavicle and the little trench between the traps, delts, and chest. Finally cresting over the great globes of the pectorals, the beads of sweat careened down to latch onto a nipple until it grew and grew in size much like the body to which it clung and then drip on to the abs where it rolled and bobbed over each cobblestone like a sleigh over a series of snow covered hills. Some of the droplets we caught up in the forest of pubes while others made their way to the thigh. It was here they were joined by other streams that had traveled over the great mountain called, "Biceps" following the path of the great hidden river called "Blood" which it was so jealous of as it wished it could be inside, flowing through this marble like body, feeding and nourishing the muscles it was caressing all this time on its journey. Following the veins the beads rolled down the biceps and the triceps, to merge and meet around the elbow and the course over the many defining lines of the defined forearms and head for the vice like hands and finger tips of the hand. Cascading off the hands the pearls of sweat joined their brothers on the thighs and again rolled over and through, over and through the many hills and valleys that all the tear drop shapes of the front thigh. Some took the more scenic route and glided around to the buttocks, driving straight into the valley of the crack, coming out at the thigh and across the taught tight road of the hamstring. Once there the traffic all joined at the knee and formed a traffic jam at the calves where they drove off the human highway and collided into a pool at the feet that seemed to be stretching and growing towards them. The pool of sweat crying as it died away into evaporation wishing it could caress this form once again. "Thump... Thump....Thump!" Connor said. "There he should be a little more stable on his feet now." "Ohhh....my....gawd.....Ah! HA! AHHHH! OOOH! OOH! OOOH! HOOOOO!" Clint was spewing his load all over the place after watching the changes that developed on Guy. This in turn began to send Guy over the edge and his grunting and moaning as well as the more jerkiness of movement as he plugged Clint's hole showed. "Ooooh babe...hmmmm....pull it out.... PULL IT OUT!.....Shower me with your seed!" Guy pulled out with an almost sickening loud pop and began to stroke his newer, longer schlong, aiming right for Clint's face. Clint was about to be drowned. "Ooooh... AAAW .....YESSSSS..... AAAAAH UUUUUUGH..... GAWD!.......OOOOH OH OH OH OH OH............................................. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" Volley one. "ah-HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" Volley two. "HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Volley three "HUUUUUUH AAAAAAH HRRRRRRRRR AAAAAAAAGH!" Four.....five.....six.....seven..... "HHAAAAAAAAAAAaaaawaHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OOOOO SHIT MOTHER FUCK DAAAAAAAAMN!: Eight....Nine...Ten.....ELEVEN....TWELVE....THIRTEEN.....FOURTEEEN! "Aaaaaaaaaugh.....hoooooo......uh-wah......huh........hmmmmf.......aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah......" Twenty! Twenty volleys of spunk rope came uncoiling from Guy's huge prick. The first one completely coating Clint's face and damn near all his hair. The last one looked small compared to the first, yet would make most people think of the impossible cum shots seen in most porn videos. Guy damn near passed out from the ecstasy, but weakly managed to fumble with his lover, Clint to the shower, which was soon to be clogged from too much cum. Callum stood there transfixed on what he had heard, knowing that it wasn't a set up. Neither of these couple's had been hired as actors. What this quintet of men could do was amazing. "Can we trust you to take the gag off now?" Callum nodded his head and Sebastian did so. "Will you follow us so we can explain this to you, and tell you why we think you're a part of us?" "Yes." Callum dryly whispered, and the six men walked down the trails and away from the dorms.

Hey everyone! This is my first story, but I've been reading the work on this forum for years now. I was finally inspired to write my own story, so I hope you all like it! These are the first three parts in what may end up being a long story, so let me know if you have any suggestions for directions to take in the next parts. There isn't any growth in the first part, but stick with it, this story is going to get juicy... Don’t Stop PART 1: Andrew woke up from his nap feeling refreshed and ready for his date that night. It had been weeks before he had finally worked up the courage to ask Nicole out, but he knew he had to give it a try before it was too late. They were both in their final year at Cornell and were at the top of their class, Andrew majoring in biology with a focus on human physiology and Nicole majoring in toxicology. Andrew was practically sweating out of his skin earlier this morning during biology lab, but all of his nervous planning paid off. She had said yes, and not just any yes. She seemed genuinely happy and excited to go out with him. Her excitement was only matched by his relief. With all the thoughts of Nicole running through his head, Andrew understandably had a “little” problem in his boxers, so he decided to take care of it before picking Nicole up. He pulled off his shorts and threw them hastily on the floor letting his four inch dick stand up proudly from his lap. Andrew knew he was under the national average in penis size, but as a Chinese man he had grown up accustomed to people making fun of his size and ancestry. Personally, his size didn’t really bother him too much, but he had always wondered what it would be like to be bigger. Not only that, but Andrew was not the tallest or most fit person at Cornell. He was only 5’ 5” tall and had just the slightest hint of a tummy bulging out from under his T-shirt. He had very little facial hair, and almost no body hair to speak of either. Despite his mental acuity and high academic achievements, his physique had always held him back from ever asking a girl out. Except for until earlier this morning. Although he had never had sex with a girl before, he had no shortage of sexual fantasies to play in his head as he was jerking off. Kissing Nicole at her doorstep, coming up for “coffee”, undressing her, seeing a vagina and breasts in person for the first time, sucking on one of her nipples, penetrating her with his rock hard… and with that Andrew exploded all over his sheets. He couldn’t believe how intense his orgasm was and how much he had cum (much more than ever before). He could have lay there for hours basking in his post-orgasm bliss, but turning over he noticed that it was already almost 7pm. He quickly jumped in the shower, cleaned himself off, grabbed his car keys, and sprinted out the door. He made it to Nicole’s apartment just in time. She walked out of the house looking so good Andrew thought his eyes would literally pop out of their sockets. A backless dress, stilettos, and a nice long leg slit made Andrew wonder how long he would be able to hide his erection. “You look amazing,” he said to Nicole as she got in the passenger’s seat. “You’re not looking too bad yourself,” she replied with just the slightest hint of a wink. “So where are you taking me tonight?” “I thought we could go to a movie and then grad dinner if that’s ok with you,” Andrew stammered nervously. “I mean, we can definitely do something else if you don’t want that. Or whatever, I don’t really care,” Andrew finished with a whimper. Nicole of course loved this scared puppy demeanor, it was what had made her interested in Andrew for the past year and a half. “Movie and dinner sound great!” she said. And it was great. They went to an old classic movie theater and watched Casablanca which he thought was great but she thought was a little too cheesy compared to the modern style of movies. Then they went to a little French restaurant where all the cooking was done by two old French grandmothers who were experts at making boeuf bourguignon. They realized that they actually had a lot in common aside from a mutual physical attraction and ended up leaving the restaurant holding each other’s hands. Finally, they ended up in front of Nicole’s doorstep. Andrew was both terrified and extremely excited to get his first kiss. He leaned in ever so gently and kissed her on the cheek. After a brief silence, Nicole turned to him and said, “Why did you stop?” The two then kissed passionately, sparks flying and fireworks dancing behind their eyes. After what seemed like an eternity Nicole spoke up again, “It’s a bit chilly outside right now, do you want to come up for some coffee?” Andrew’s jack off session started playing through his head again and he found himself thickening to his full four inches. “Definitely. I don’t want this night to stop.” PART 2: Nicole and Andrew couldn’t keep their hands off of each other as they ran up the stairs to Nicole’s bedroom. They tried to be quiet so as not to wake up Nicole’s roommates, but their moans and groans could not be stifled. They made it to the top of the stairs, burst through her bedroom door, and collapsed on her bed. It took no time for Andrew to remove Nicole’s shirt and bra, but it did take him a while to stop marveling at the first pair of boobs he’d ever seen. Nicole meanwhile pulled down Andrew’s shorts and underwear allowing her to stare and Andrew’s erection, the first erection she had ever seen. The two virgins wasted little time trying to throw off those titles as Nicole smoothly guided Andrew’s throbbing cock to her wet pussy. Andrew’s fantasy was finally coming true. He could feel every glorious second of his first penetration, her velvet walls enveloping him in a feeling of utter pleasure. It took everything he had not to cum right there, but he managed to hold on and start thrusting. Andrew’s thrusts were understandably weak and inexperienced, but he soon got into the swing of things. He was able to notice what Nicole liked and what she didn’t like as much (although to be honest she was enjoying everything a lot) and adjust his thrusting style to make her moan more and more. After a minute or so Andrew couldn’t hold it in anymore. He could feel the best moment of his life building in his balls, churning up through his core, and eventually erupting out of him like a primal roar. He screamed as he emptied his balls into Nicole which in turn triggered her orgasm. The two then collapsed on top of each other, panting furiously, silly grins spread wide across their faces, virgins no more. Andrew was on fire. His boner showed no signs of going away, and Nicole was only too happy to help him out. In his post-orgasmic haze he hardly even noticed her putting on some chap stick before taking his whole cock in her mouth in one go. “Oh baby my dick is going crazy!” he screamed. Her response was limited because his dick was in her throat now, but she managed to look up at him and wink in her special subtle way. Andrew continued to moan as Nicole went to work on his rock hard shaft and as her throat massaged his sensitive head. He lasted for a surprisingly long time (but still only a few minutes) before he managed to choke out, “I’m cumming!” He poured his load down her throat, and she greedily drank it down with no problems. This orgasm was so much more intense for Andrew than the first one. It was so intense in fact that he passed out soon after the biggest ejaculation of his life. As he drifted off into sleep he remembered thinking about how rude it was that he didn’t go down on Nicole, but those thoughts were soon replaced with dreams and fantasies replaying the past half hour all night long. The last thought he had before succumbing to sleep’s welcoming embrace was, “I hope this perfect feeling never stops.” PART 3: Andrew woke up from his perfect dream to the perfect view. Nicole had woken up a few minutes before him and had started to massage his morning wood to get it ready for some morning sex. Andrew couldn’t believe that he had had sex last night. He woke up feeling very refreshed and yet super horny. He also felt like his dick was about to explode out of its skin. As soon as Nicole sat on top of him and guided his cock into her open hole he forgot all about how weird it was that his dick felt bigger and instead started to ride the towering waves of pleasure he was experiencing. He came with a roar just like the night before, but this time he felt like he shot by far the biggest load of his life into Nicole’s quivering vagina. Unlike the previous night, Andrew decided to reciprocate the oral sex Nicole had given him. This was the closest he had ever been to a vagina, and he relished every second of it. She tasted so sweet and smelled so good he wondered if she had added any perfumed product around her vagina to make it taste like that. He felt like he could keep eating her out for hours, and by the sounds of her intense moans and gasps it sounded like she could go forever. However, after about fifteen minutes, Nicole’s alarm went off signaling that it was time to get ready for class. She hopped in the shower leaving Andrew to bask in the sunlight streaming in from the window… Andrew woke up to a sudden pain in his balls. He looked over the blanket to find a larger tent than he used to pitch. He ripped the blankets off the bed and stared at his dick. “There’s no way it’s still just four inches long,” Andrew mused to himself. It looked to be at least an inch longer than it used to be and maybe a hair thicker, although he wasn’t sure about any of it. “Maybe a trick of the late morning light,” he thought, although he secretly hoped he actually had grown. As he got up from the bed he noticed he felt a little off balance and dizzy. “That’s strange,” he thought out loud, “I thought I was finished growing taller years ago.” That wasn’t the only thing that had changed though. He also noticed he no longer had a chubby stomach. In fact, he could almost see the faintest outlines of his abs. Lastly, he noticed dustings of hair on his legs and the barest hints of a mustache coming in. “Finally,” he said, “I haven’t been able to get any facial hair no matter how many growth products I’ve tried.” He chalked up his increased masculinity to the fact the he had just lost his virginity and that his testosterone must be pumping in overdrive. Somewhat concerned but happy with his new appearance, Andrew decided to go home, change, and head off to class. He had a hard time focusing on anything though and spent most of the time texting with Nicole. She was only too happy to text back: A: Last night was fun right?! N: LOL yeah totally. And this morning A: Best alarm clock ever hahaha. After waiting a few minutes: A: How would you feel about round three tonight after dinner? My place? N: Sounds delicious. I’ll be over as soon as I’m done in lab! A: Awesome, I’m thinking about cooking sausage for dinner ;P And so with that Andrew ran to the supermarket to grab the ingredients he needed to make the best sausage paella Nicole had ever tasted. He also grabbed a pack of regular condoms and some lube (just in case she was more adventurous than he had hoped for). Dinner was delicious, and afterward they decided to relax and watch a movie together. Except that by the end of the first thirty minutes both of them knew that the other didn’t really want to finish the movie. Nicole stood up and straddled Andrew catching him a bit off guard and firmly kissing him. After a few minutes of making out Andrew asked, “What flavor chap stick is that?” “Oh do you like it? Some of the grad students in my lab are focused on making entirely non-toxic cosmetics and they said I could take a tube to try!” Nicole replied before diving back in for another kiss. Truth be told, Andrew really did love the taste of the chap stick and wanted more of it. Kissing didn’t last long though before the couple decided to ramp things up. Andrew ripped off Nicole’s shirt, happily surprised she wasn’t wearing a bra. Nicole in turn completely undressed Andrew and admired his new masculine traits. “Wow, I thought you had a little bit of a tummy last night,” she teased. “And the leg hair, I’m a huuuge fan. Emphasis on the huge which by the way…” she said looking aright at his fully erect cock. She could tell it was bigger than last night, and she needed it inside of her right away. She started sucking him off and could tell he was enjoying it by how loud and frequent his groans were becoming. For someone who had never given a blowjob before last night she was very talented. The pleasure soon became too much for Andrew to bear, and he shot at least five times down her expectant throat. He was just getting started. Andrew quickly led her to his bedroom, and Nicole threw him on the bed. Her pussy was on fire and it was not going to be satisfied until she and Andrew shared an orgasm. He mounted her and rapidly thrust his newly grown cock deep into her pussy. He could feel he had grown a little bit, the way her vagina felt tighter and the way his head felt bigger and more sensitive. He began jackhammering quickly in and out of her, pulling out completely before each thrust to feel the maximum effect of continuous penetration. Nicole meanwhile was just mouthing “oh god yes, ohhh so good” after having screamed so much she literally became speechless. Andrew on the other hand felt like a real man for the first time in his life. He grunted powerfully and felt completely in control. She had already orgasmed and he was proud that he had held off for so long already. However, just as Nicole was nearing her second orgasm, Andrew felt his balls begin to tighten and felt the familiar rush of energy through his core. And then they came together and it was beautiful. Nicole’s sex was undulating so much Andrew almost fainted from the amount of stimulation his head was experiencing. It seemed to last forever (and they both wanted it to last forever too), but all good thing must end eventually. They finally stopped convulsing and collapsed into each other’s arms. Both were too exhausted for words, but they cuddled together until they peacefully fell asleep. Andrew woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and almost tripped over his own feet trying to get there. He finally made it to his mirror and turned on the bathroom light. “What the fuck is happening to me?!” he gasped. Staring back at him from the mirror was still Andrew, just an improved version. His mustache had thickened and was becoming darker and more noticeable. He even had several dark hairs on his chin and a few thin dark hairs beginning to sprout on his chest near his nipples. Looking down he noticed that his shirt was fitting him better so he removed it to find out what was hiding underneath. He gasped again after seeing his newly defined muscles. His pecs were still pretty small, but there was a noticeable separation between the two and they protruded a bit from his body when he stood up straight. His arms were looking pretty good too, and when he flexed them he could see small golf ball sized mounds where he knew his biceps and triceps were. He also definitely had abs now, although they were the kind of abs that skinny people have because they have no body fat. Looking past his abs he could see that his thighs and calves had also bulked up, but not to anything truly spectacular. It merely looked like he enjoyed running every now and then. But the thing that really shocked him and made him gasp for a third time was what he saw when he took off his underwear. His flaccid penis which had previously only measured two inches long was definitely bigger. He wanted to know exactly how much bigger, so he snuck back into his bedroom to grad a ruler from his desk and then returned to the bathroom to measure himself. Three inches soft. He was overjoyed, and his dick began to harden thinking about his new growth spurt. He began stroking himself to reach full erection so he could measure just big he had become. Once he was as hard as an iron rod he found that he was five and a half inches long. Now remember, Andrew was a biology major with a focus on human physiology, so he knew this shouldn’t be possible. However, he wasn’t thinking about how illogical this all was or how improbable these changes were. He wasn’t even thinking about why this was happening. All he could think about was that he didn’t want this growth to stop.

Three Ted parked his car in front of the gym, got out, tossed his cousin's sweat drenched shirt over his wide shoulder and strutted toward the building. He pulled the door but it was locked. He looked up and noticed the 'out of business' sign. He banged his fist against the heavy door, rattling the glass. Jeremy heard the banging sound and left his office. He looked in the direction of the door and saw the familiar big teen pounding the metal surface. He grabbed his keys and hurried to the entrance to unlock the door, noting the dents Ted's fist had made. Ted saw Jeremy coming over and pulled open the door as it was unbolted, his wide shoulders brushing against the frame as he entered. Jeremy instinctively stepped back: the big teen looked even more intimidating filling the frame of the door. Before he could react, two big hands grabbed his armpits and lifted him up against the wall. "What's the big idea of closing down your gym?", Ted snarled, "I paid ya good money to work out here". Jeremy's breathing fastened and his armpits got sweaty as his feet dangled in the air: just like the day before in his office, he was in the hands of this teen beast. He squirmed in the steely grasp, unable to break free. He gulped when he realized he was at the mercy of the huge 18 year old that was six years younger than him and had dented the steel door just by pounding on it. "Well? Thought ya could use me to get my cousin's shirt, hustle my money and then ditch me? Back in juvy I always got back on those kind of guys", Ted barked and shoved the 209 pound bodybuilder hard against the wall while tightening his grip. "Oufgh" A faint sound of pain escaped Jeremy's mouth as his back was slammed against the wall. He stopped squirming as the hard pressure around his ribs increased even more. "Man, I could break all your bones right now. Your body is no match for my strength. A total wimp. Just like my cousin.", Ted bawled and raised the right corner of his mouth to show his teeth like a dog. The pressure soon lessened and Jeremy took in a few deep breaths before replying. "Look man", he said, "this gym was on the verge of bankruptcy when you came by yesterday. I just decided to shut it down so I can focus on taking back my top spot from your cousin. You can keep training here. For free. Whenever you want." "A personal gym all for myself? That's more like it", Ted said. "Yeah", Jeremy replied quickly, "You won't have to hide your physique to avoid suspicion from the other gym members. Or fear unannounced drug tests. I could write you a training program. Or become your training partner." "Good thinking, little guy. But you're too tiny and weak to work out with me. Ya just couldn't keep up with me. Ya need real muscle to train with the big guys ", Ted stated and lowered him back down, " But I could go for a quick workout right now. Still feeling pumped from beating my cousin. Ya should have seen his face when he got I would beat him. And when I actually beat him. Priceless." Jeremy, still a bit wobbly on his feet and taking in deep breaths, locked the door and grabbed the sweat drenched shirt from the teen's shoulder. "You know your way around. I'll be in my office", he said. "Let's toss some weight around. YEAH!", Ted boomed and swaggered into the gym. Chris' evening wasn't passing as smoothly as his cousin's. The painful pump in his pecs had been agonizing him ever since his lost fight. His right shoulder felt like his delts had been ripped off the joint. His right arm felt even worse: his cramped 20 inch bicep stabbed in pain like a truck had passed over it; spasms kept shooting through the cord-like muscles in his forearm. He hadn't said a word since his cousin left. "Come on, hon", Trisha said as she installed herself next to him in the couch and rubbed her body against his, "cheer up. It was a simple arm wrestle contest against your cousin. Not like you lost a big title to your rival." Chris didn't react and kept staring at the TV. "You're still my number one. I know a good way to make you feel better", Trisha said. Her hand slipped underneath his shirt, brushing the hard lines of his six-pack and moved down into his pants. Her fingers played with his cock: she playfully grabbed his balls and traced along the flaccid shaft, mentally comparing it to what she had felt through Ted's sweatpants. "I'm gonna sleep. Don't feel so well", Chris said. He pulled her hand from his pants and went upstairs, leaving his girlfriend behind. He entered their bedroom and took off his clothes, avoiding to look at his reflection in the mirror on the furthest wall. He opened the door of the adjacent dressing and grabbed a pair of pajamas: for the first time since graduating high school, he wouldn't sleep in his boxers or nude. He felt weak and small, as if his cousin had stripped him of his manhood by beating him. The tight fabric of his unused pajamas made him feel slightly better. He got in bed, wondering if it had always been this large, and coiled himself up in a ball underneath the sheets, like a scared child. Jeremy was in his office carefully assembling the ingredients for his revenge on his rival, Chris. He had found a website on voodoo spells and decided to give it a try. Despite not really believing in this supernatural mumbo-jumbo, he knew it was worth a shot. His rival had clearly better genetics than him and he couldn't beat Chris naturally. And steroids were no option due to the weekly drug tests by the LTB. "YEAH!" The loud roar echoing through the deserted gym made him look up. Ted's shouts had been alternating with the bangs of heavy weights dropping down for the last hour. Jeremy shook his head and returned to page he had printed. He took the voodoo doll he had ordered from the box, leaving the spare one in it. He then grabbed the sweat drenched, stinking shirt Ted had brought and wrung it out over the doll. Chris' sweat dripped from the shirt onto the doll, soaking it before it absorbed into it. He quickly tossed the doll in the top drawer of his desk as the door was slammed open. A sweaty Ted, his face dark red from his workout barged in. Heat and a mixture of sweat and musk radiated from his 260 pound body, filling the office. "You're still here", Jeremy said casually, "thought you were in for a quick training?". "It was a quick one", Ted replied in his deep voice and stepped up to the desk. "But… you trained for an hour", Jeremy answered promptly. Ted grinned. "For little boys like ya and my weak cousin an hour is long. But for big guys like me it's just enough for a quick arm workout", Ted stated and flexed his arms. Jeremy stared at the stretched hoodie covering the teen's arms as its seams protested with ripping sounds as they were pushed upward and outward by the orbs of steely meat swelling into their 25 inches of power. How does the guy look underneath?, Jeremy thought. "Ya said I could train whenever I want", Ted said and lowered his arms. "Yeah, sure", Jeremy replied, "Just give me a call and I'll make sure I'm here". "Na. I don't want to have to wait for ya. Just give me a key so I can get in", Ted stated. "No. No. I can't…", Jeremy stopped speaking as he noticed the angry look in the teen's dark brown eyes and the hoodie's strained sleeves as he folded his big arms across his chest. "I'm not asking ya. I'm telling ya to give me a key. Got a problem with that, kid?", Ted barked, his deep voice rattling the glass of the cabinet behind the desk and grabbed Jeremy's keychain lying on his desk. " No problem at all, man. Take them. I'll use my spare key", Jeremy replied promptly. "Thought so", Ted said and turned around to leave, "And make sure the water's running next time. I like to shower after my training". Jeremy stared at the teen's wide back as he strutted out of his office, slamming the door as he left. He took in a deep breath in relief as he heard Ted's car start and race away from the parking lot. "I'll have to keep on his good side. If this mumbo-jumbo doesn't work, I'll have to use him to keep his Chris out off the competition. But if it does work, I'll be way bigger than him once I've stolen his cousin's muscles and then I'll show him who's boss ", he said to himself, "I'll make him cry for mercy in my grip and crush him. Then steal his muscles too". He took the doll from the top drawer and followed the instructions on the paper. He cut a piece from Chris' red shirt and draped it across the doll before putting the doll in a purplish solution he had made with the other ingredients. "Now, it just has to take in the potion over night and everything should be ready for my revenge tomorrow." He gathered what was left of the ingredients and put them in a box in the cabinet behind his desk. He took his spare key from his desk and headed home for the night. Ted sped home after his quick workout and pulled up in front of the garage with squealing tires. He entered the deserted house, put on the lights and took off his hoodie. He really hated having to hide his huge body. He thought back to his days in juvy, when he walked around barechested just to remind everyone he was in charge. He chugged down a gallon of protein shake and noticed a note on the kitchen table. "Off to see my contacts. Will be back tomorrow with your new candy. S." Ted smiled and went upstairs to take a quick shower. He tossed his stinking tank top aside, stepped out off his sweatpants and boxers and got in the shower. He groaned as the hot water cascaded down on his muscle-filled frame. He turned off the water, stepped out and grabbed a towel. He dried off the damped mirror and stared at his reflection. He flexed his huge arms, the pumped muscle rounding outward and mounting upward. His hard, meaty biceps swelling into steely orbs, pushing up some blue veins as they brushed past 25 inches. "Pumped and hard from my workout", he said to his reflection and lowered his left arm to grope his nicely round right bicep. "The arm that crushed ya like a little girl, couz", he said to himself as he tried to dent the hot rock atop his right arm, "Instantly felt you were mine. Your puny grip no match for my iron grasp." His plump cock filled with blood, raising upward and smacked against his stomach as he tightened his grip around the hard ball of muscle and the mound withstood his thick fingers. "Your feeble attack useless against my superior strength. Even had to hold back not to crush ya on the spot. Pushed your powerless arm back easily. Dominating ya in front of your girl. YEAH!", he groaned as his 10 incher exploded onto the mirror, coating it with spurts of sticky cum. Ted's left hand released his bicep and roughly groped his rock-hard, spasming dick. He milked four more blasts from the throbbing 10 incher onto the mirror before leaving the bathroom and strutting into his bedroom. Feeling untouchable and all-powerful, he laid down naked atop his bed, his still hard dick pointed toward the ceiling. His right paw instinctively grabbed the rigid shaft and he stroked away. Within the minute his hefty balls churned and pumped out four slightly lesser bursts that shot up and rained back down on his 260 pound frame, splattering as the thick liquid hit his pecs and stomach. He dozed off, his 10 incher deflating very slowly. Chris passed a restless night. He'd been turning back and forth for hours before falling asleep. He dreamed that he was arm wrestling his cousin again. He fought with everything he got but his cousin's arm didn't budge. His own arm was pumped beyond belief as it was being pushed down. He brought in his second hand, grabbed the huge paw around his hand and pulled. His cousin just kept smiling and pushed his arms down effortlessly. As his hand hit the table, his cousin roared and exploded in size; mammoth-sized muscles ripping his clothes to shreds as the guy doubled in width. The massive beast looked down on him with an evil grin and said "You're mine!" as his huge paw reached for him. Chris shot up in his bed, his heart pounding in his heaving chest and his pajamas wet with sweat. "Just a dream", he whispered to himself and slid back down. At took several minutes before his breathing finally calmed down and he snoozed off again. He dreamed that he was standing on stage and posing for an enthusiast crowd. He went into a most muscular when a large shadow fell over him. He turned around and stared at a mountain of muscle: the most ripped and thick abs he'd ever seen, filled his vision. He looked up and gazed at bottom of an insanely protruding rack of pecs. The huge, striated, vein-soaked mountains jutted so far from the giant's chest they blocked the sight of his head and cast shadows on the top of the ripped abs. A huge paw suddenly grabbed Chris and lifted him up to reveal the evilly grinning face of his cousin. "You're mine!", his beastly huge cousin said as he pushed Chris' face in the deep cleavage between the massive pecs and crushed it by flexing them. Chris shot up once again, breathing even heavier this time. He looked at his radio, noted the time and decided to get up. He entered the bathroom and took off his soaked pajamas. He stopped in front of the large mirror and inspected his physique. His 215 pound body looked as ripped and defined as ever but he just felt weaker. He flexed his abs, making his six-pack ripple and harden. It didn't impress him as usual. He lifted his left arm and brought in his forearm. The hard, meaty bicep swelled into its familiar 20 inches of vein-covered beef. Yet, it seemed somewhat meager. He proceeded by flexing his quads, pushing his half-hard cock up as the thick muscles hardened. The veins and grooves he had trained so hard for appeared, but couldn't take his feelings away. "Ridiculous", he said out loud to his reflection, "arm wrestling is all about leverage and weight. Ted was clearly way heavier, fatter than me. So he has more raw strength. My defined body would make his blobby physique look like shit." "You're right, hon." Chris turned around and saw his girlfriend stand in the doorway, naked and with lust filled eyes. He grinned and they stepped into the shower together. Chris pushed Trisha up against the tilled wall, put his hands aside her head and invaded her with his 7 incher. "Oh, hon", Trisha grunted as her boyfriend's hard snake eagerly entered her. Chris drove his hips back and forth aggressively, his six-pack flexing and relaxing as his cock travelled in and out of his girl. "Oh, yeaugh", Trisha moaned lustfully and grabbed Chris' muscular back for support under the force, groping the bulging mounds atop the wide surface. Chris went at her at full force, fucking her with unknown intensity. It felt like he was reclaiming his manhood, retaking his top dog position as he summoned every ounce of force the big muscles on his 215 pound body could produce. "YEAUGHN!!!", he groaned loud and deeply as his balls contracted and spat a first load of his juices through his rock-hard shaft into his girl. Three more volleys shot from 7 incher as he kept ramming it back and forth into his girlfriend. "Yeah, yeah, yeah", Trisha grunted in her boyfriend's ear as she rested her head on his thick shoulder. She felt his snake beginning to soften inside her as spasms shot through her and her own orgasm overwhelmed her delicate 120 pound body. Chris felt his girlfriend tighten around his deflating cock and wet hotness flowed along it as he drove it into her a final time. He withdrew his dick from her, a mixture of his and her juices dripping from the thinning shaft as he pulled it out. "That was incredible, hon", Trisha said between fast breaths and kissed his lips. Chris returned the kiss, feeling back on top of his game and ready for an intense workout. Jeremy entered his gym after a restless night: excitement to start his revenge had kept him from falling asleep. He first turned the water back on in case Ted would show up this early; he didn't want to get hoisted up by the huge teen once again. He went to his office and opened the top drawer of his desk. He pulled out the recipient with the special formula and the doll. He carefully lifted the doll from the purplish substance and put it on his desk. He also took the piece of paper containing the instructions and said the final incantations out loud: "Gargak Profundis atque venerabilis, Ggrrtjzaku dzedzikoirku!". A surge of power went through him as he said the final word. "It's starting", he said, "your titles are mine now, Chris!". Ted awoke fully recharged after a peaceful sleep and was greeted by the sight of his rock-hard 10 incher pointing at the ceiling. He scratched his meaty chest and felt the patches of dried cum. "Right", he said, "fell asleep thinking of my power". He got up and strutted over to the bathroom, his erect cock swinging back and forth in the process. He saw the cum-stained and grinned. He turned on the shower and stepped under the hot water, letting it clean his pecs as his hands automatically went to his throbbing dick. He put his left paw around his shaft at the base of his cock and his right paw atop his left, covering the entire shaft but unable the cover up the dark red head. He moaned slightly as he tightened his grip, grinning as he couldn't fully close his big hands around the incredible girth of his 10 incher. Within seconds he exploded against the tilled wall, wads of his sticky cum sliding down slowly to the bottom of the shower where they mixed with the soapy water and formed a thick puddle around the drain. After seven big blasts, he released his very slowly deflating cock, turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He dried himself quickly, his half-hard dick smacking between his thick thighs. He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the white cupboard. "Shit, I'm out of stuff", he rumbled in his deep voice before finding a final vial at the back. He sucked up its content with a syringe, planted the needle in his left ass cheek and emptied it into his body, his half-hard cock jolting underneath the towel as he felt the steroids passing into him. "Ah, you're up. Thought I heard some grunts in here." Ted turned around and looked down on his housemate. "Didn't mean to wake ya, S.", he said, his deep voice drowning his housemate's high pitch. "Nah, I just got back. I'm off to sleep now", the guy said and looked around in the bathroom. "Man, could you at least wipe your cum from the mirror. I told you before to jerk in the shower, big guy." Ted looked at the mirror and returned his look on his housemate. "Sorry, S.", he rumbled, "These roids just get me so horned up…" "I can tell", the guy replied and let his gaze rest at the obscene lump in the towel draped around the 260 pound 18 year old. Ted's eyes followed his roommate's gaze and his more-than-half-hard cock jolted, tenting the towel some more. "260 pounds of beef and you're still just a horny teenager, big guy", the guy said and looked back up in Ted's eyes. "Remember your first years in juvy? The big guys picking on you, beating you up." Ted clenched his fists at the memories, his forearms rippling with strength and his biceps hardening atop his arms. "You were skinnier than me back then. What did you weigh? 130 pounds? 120 just like me?", the guy said. "125. Ya know it, S.", Ted mumbled like an angry child. "And who helped you turn that pathetic, skinny 6 feet frame into the 260 pound beast you are today? Who gave you the chance to get back on all your bullies?", the guy asked and pointed his index finger against the big teen's chest, pushing it into the protruding rack of muscle. "I owe it all to ya, S.", Ted replied and looked into his 5'5, 120 pound housemate's eyes, "No one will ever touch ya when I'm here". "That's why I let you move in with me, big guy. None of the other dealers dares to double-cross me knowing I've got a beast like you to back me up. That's why you can stay for as long as you want. All summer. Until next year. We'll see", the guy stated, "And I'll give you some nice candy when you behave, big guy". "Ya have my stuff", Ted asked eagerly and slightly bounced his pecs under his housemate's touch. "Told you I would get it. And don't I always take care of you, big guy? The stronger you are, the safer I am. Back in juvy I saw how you struggled to gain some muscle and when my protector got out, I beefed you up for my protection. I'll keep doing the same now", the guy said, "I've gotten something very potent for you. Still experimental but way stronger than the traditional steroids". "And can it be detected? If I want to get into bodybuilding…", Ted blurted out. "It's still experimental, so it should pass the traditional tests", the guy answered. "Great, S.", Ted said, "Can't wait to get my hands on it". "Why wait, big guy?", the guy asked and disappeared into the hallway. Within seconds he got back from his room with a little box filled with vials. "A first stash as a test run." Ted quickly grabbed the box from his housemate's hands and let a vial drop into his own big hand. "Looks the same like my roids", he said as he examined the vial. "This is extracted from bull semen and further enhanced", the guy said, "You inject it just like roids but it has to be directly into your balls. It forces them to produce as much testosterone as a bull." "Let's see", Ted replied and filled a syringe with the content of the vial in his hand. "No! Wait!", his housemate said, "you've already taken a dose of the other stuff today". He grabbed the big teen's forearm and pulled with all his might. Ted didn't hear his housemate's warning and his thick forearm wasn't slowed down by the tugging of the 120 pound guy. His right hand disappeared under the towel and he felt the needle against his right nut. He flexed his thick thigh, trapping his right nut against it and pushed in the needle. "Yeah", he grunted as he emptied the content into his right nut. He withdrew the needle and filled it again with the content from a second vial. "What are you doing?", his housemate asked and frantically tried preventing the 260 pound beast from carrying on. "A round for my other nut too", Ted replied. His right hand disappeared under the towel again and the needle invaded his left nut, emptying the juice into it. "What have you done?", his housemate yelled, "A double dose on top of your usual roids?!". Ted pulled the needle from his left nut and tossed the syringe in the sink. "I feel it working", he bellowed, "Ughn!". A warm feeling spread through his balls, that pulsed under the towel. His more-than-half-hard cock surged to full hardness, ripping the towel away to reveal his entire body, and smacked against his stomach as it inflated into its 10 inches of hard glory. "Yeahn", Ted grunted, his rock-hard cock throbbing and a musky odor radiating from his trimmed pubes and the dark hair in his deep armpits. The bathroom filled with the musky scent and his housemate jumped out mere seconds before Ted exploded the load of a lifetime. Cum splattered onto the ceiling, coated the tilled walls, sprayed the window, stained the mirror and pooled on the floor as his pulsing balls fired gallons of his thick spunk though his wildly throbbing 10 incher. After 12 huge blasts, his orgasm wore down and Ted stood breathing heavily amidst the devastated bathroom. "Clean up your mess before you go out", his housemate said and went to bed.

Two Jeremy entered the offseason with great frustration. Ever since his victory in the level 2-event of San Diego in may, he’d lost every big final to his one year younger rival, Chris. His recent victories had come in some minor level 2-events, were his physique had clearly dominated the field. His season-ending defeat in the tour finals had been a serious blow: not only had it cost him his number one position in the world rankings, he would now also have to watch his rival wearing the customized boxers marked ‘champ’. To make things even worse, his uncle’s gym balanced on the verge of bankruptcy in the ‘fitness unfriendly atmosphere’ created by “Moms against roids”. His income declined drastically as he soon had only a couple of clients left to train. Jeremy used the extra time to bulk up his own physique. He ate and worked out as relentlessly as his body allowed him; throwing up in the deserted gym on several occasions. By the end of February, he knew he was fully ready to take on his rival. Chris had passed an exciting offseason. He had received his parents’ house as they decided to move into a smaller apartment and had spent some very pleasant times with his girlfriend. Her support had made him train harder than before: she just couldn’t keep her hands off him as he got home pumped from the gym, jumping into the shower with him, groping and licking the hard masses of muscle across his body before they would fuck. Her lust had pushed him beyond his limits in the gym and had taken his physique to another level for the next season. Jeremy smiled as he entered the backstage off the Detroit-masters. He had won the three level 2-events leading up to this show and was more than ready to defend his title. He went through the daily drug test before getting ready to step on stage. He slowly strutted out, savoring how he outsized his opponents. As expected, he easily won his lineups and proceeded to the final. Likewise, Chris had cruised through the event to set up the clash with his rival. On Sunday afternoon, he entered the backstage and stepped up to his competitor. “Been a while since we’ve met”, he said. Jeremy turned around and looked slightly down in his opponents’ eyes. “Yeah”, he replied, “not my fault you chickened out the competition until now. Not that it makes a difference: I’ll take ya down like I did with the others and claim my fourth title of the season.” “Some nice victories you’ve had. Congrats”, Chris answered, “May the best man win today.” “No problem, I’ll try not to make you like tiny, kid”, Jeremy said and turned his back to his rival. The speaker called for Jeremy first and he confidently stepped out on stage. He bounced his pecs in response to the public’s cheers and took his position. A new wave of cheers announced Chris’ arrival and Jeremy looked aside. A stab of jealousy hit him when he saw the blue boxers marked ‘Champ’. Without looking any further at his rival, Jeremy faced the judges again. The mandatory quarter turns began and the difference between both athlete’s was clearly visible: Jeremy’s 209 pound body looked big but lacked its deep definition; Chris’ 215 pound physique on the other hand was shredded beyond its level of last season. Eager to defend his title, Jeremy quickly began the pose down. He put his hands behind his head, making his bicep ball up into their 18.5 inches of beef, and did an ab vacuum-pose, highlighting his v-taper by pushing out his lats. Chris followed this lead and copied the pose. His arms rounded into the 20 inches of striated meat next to his head, his thick triceps hard and defined at the back of his arms; he sucked in his abs incredibly deep, making his waist unbelievably small, every ridge of his six-pack deeply grooved between the hard blocks of muscle; his lats flared out clearly wider than his rival’s. Jeremy turned to face his opponent and threw a most muscular. His signature pose had won all his contests this season. The hard masses of muscle hardened across his impressive physique, striations and veins exploding over their surface: his pecs hardened like armor above his six-pack; his meaty arms balled up and pushed against his hard chest; his legs bulged outward as grooves and veins were pushed up by his strong quads. He smirked at his opponent. Chris first went into a most muscular facing the judges and the public. He then relaxed his pose and turned to face his still flexed opponent. He noticed the smirk on his rival’s face and flexed. Jeremy’s smirk faded as he looked at the flexing world champ. He summoned his last energy to harden his own flex, but it was no use. Chris’ fantastic muscles hardened fully all over his frame as he brought in his arms to complete his pose: his pecs bulged and swelled as the hard muscle pushed up striated lines against his pale skin; his defined six-pack rippled and hardened beneath the shelf of meat; his 20 inch arms pushed into the flexed rack; his ripped delts rounded atop his shoulders and eclipsed his rival’s; his thick quads, bulging outward, crowned his flex. Jeremy’s pose began to wear off as he realized his rival outsized him and was more shredded than him. That’s when Chris went into his signature pose: his mighty back double bicep. The hard mounds of meat on his wide back, clearly bigger than last season, bulged into each other as he held out his arms; his relatively small waist leading up to his wide shoulders highlighted his unrivaled v-taper; cuts and striations swarm across the round mass at the back of his shoulders; his triceps hung hard and thick toward the floor; his biceps swelled up as he slowly brought in his arms: the mounds of muscle pushed up several blue veins against his pale white skin as they rose to their 20 inches of hard, round meat. Jeremy didn’t copy the pose: he knew he’d lost. He looked at his feet and heard the judges call out Chris’ name as the winner of the Detroit-masters. Jeremy didn’t bother to shake hands with his rival, he left the stage, threw his runner-up prize on the floor and rushed to his car to get away. Chris couldn’t be any happier: he was the first athlete ever to hold the four master titles simultaneously and his physique was unrivaled. He got backstage after talking to the press, pulled on his clothes and went home. When he parked in front of his garage, he noticed a car parked next door. New neighbors, he thought as he entered his house. He tossed his bag aside and went upstairs. He took off his clothes and admired his physique in the mirror when a hand slapped his muscular ass. “Love how your boxers show off your ass, champ”, his girlfriend said as she jumped on his broad back, grabbing his pecs for support. “You’re too heavy for me, babe”, Chris said laughingly and pretended to struggle under the weight as he let his legs shake, sending striations across the surface of his ripped quads. His dick hardened in his boxers as his girlfriend pinched his nipples. “Maybe you’re just too weak, champ”, Trisha replied as she gently bit his ear. Her hands roamed his wide pecs. “Mghn”, Chris groaned as her frail hands continued their way down over his tight six-pack and played with the outlines of his dick through his now tented boxers. He gently tossed her frail body onto the bed, pulled down his boxers, his hard cock smacking against his lower abs as it was freed, and jumped in next to her. Trisha got atop him, mounting his abs and devoured his lips in a deep, sensual kiss. His stronger tongue easily overpowered hers and snaked into her mouth. Chris took a deep breath as she broke the kiss. Her small hands grabbed his wrists, not covering half of them, and he let her stretch out his muscular arms above his head on the mattress. “Can you break free of my hold, champ”, Trisha said as she rubbed her perky ass atop his abs and her back against his throbbing cock. “I give. You dominate me completely, babe”, Chris laughingly said as he pretended to struggle in her weak grip. He squirmed and flexed his arms slightly, avoiding to break her grip. Then, in a single motion, he broke her hold, grabbed her flanks, effortlessly lifted her up from his abs and positioned her atop his cock. “Oh”, Trisha grunted giggly as her big boyfriend lifted her 120 pound body in the air and she felt the head of his rock hard 7 inch cock press against her. She grunted in pleasure as the hot snake invaded her. She took his entire length in and began bouncing up and down the throbbing shaft, while grabbing his pecs for support. “Yeaughn”, Chris groaned, cupping Trisha's firm breasts while she girl stimulated his 7 incher. His balls drew tight and his muscles flexed as his balls exploded. A first volley of cum rocketed through his rock hard shaft and blasted into his girl, soon followed by a second and a third. "Mmuhn", Trisha grunted lustfully as she felt her boyfriend's hot juices blast into her. She kept bouncing up and down the spasming shaft, milking out two more blasts. "Yeaughnn", Chris moaned exhaustedly, his protruding pecs heaving up and down as he took in deep breaths. He pulled in his girl and kissed her deeply as she kept sliding up and down his now softer cock. Trisha felt her boyfriend's 7 incher soften inside her while his strong tongue invaded her mouth. "Muouf", she let out as she climaxed herself, het hot juices flowing along the now half hard cock inside her. Exhausted, she let her delicate, 120 pound body fall against the hard mass of muscle beneath her. Chris felt his girl's juices along his deflating cock and gently stroked her hair as she lay down atop his heaving chest. "Love ya, babe", he whispered in her ear as he carefully lifted her from his dick and installed her against his side, wrapping his thick arm around her in a protective reflex. "Love ya too, hon", Trisha replied as she curled herself in his armpit, resting her head against the hard, hot pec. She slumbered asleep, feeling totally secured aside her 215 pound boyfriend. Chris watched his girl fall asleep, pulled her in closer against his frame, her breath brushing his left nipple and snoozed off himself. Jeremy was still in a grim mood after losing his title at the Detroit-masters the day before. He opened the gym, seeing no clients in the parking lot as usual. He returned to the counter and went through his daily routine of checking the income for his uncle, seeing another decline. "We'll be out of business by the end of next month", he said to himself as he heard the door open. He looked up and saw a big man with a young face, wearing baggy clothes come in. Great, another fatso trying to lose weight, he thought. "Yo", the guy said in a surprisingly deep voice for someone looking that young. "Hello sir", Jeremy replied, tilting his head up to look the guy in the eye, "what can I do for you?". "I'm looking for a place to train", the guy stated, "helped a friend move here and I'll be staying until summer's over. What do you guys charge?". "I'll let you train for free this time and if you're willing to train here, we'll discuss prices after your training", Jeremy said, "Do you need some pointers?". "Na, I've tossed around some weights back in juvy, er at home I mean. Let's see what you guys have here", the guy replied and strutted into the gym. Jeremy watched the guy wander over to the free weights and returned to his own business. He went into his office and continued surfing the net to find a way to beat his rival naturally. An hour later, a loud knock on the door made him look up. "Come in", Jeremy said. The fat young guy stepped into his office and sat down in front of his desk. "I like this place, lots of free weights, if your prices are ok, I'll train here", the guy said. "Glad you like our gym", Jeremy replied, " it's march now and you'll be staying 'till the end of summer, you said. That's six months. Our prices depend on your demands. A minimal membership costs 10 dollars a months, but we offer 10 dollars discount if you pay for six months at once." "50 bucks", the guy stated, "here you go". He pulled out his wallet and put the money on the desk. "Off course there's some paperwork to be done", Jeremy said as he took the money and noticed the size of the guy's hands, "I'll need your name and age first". "Ted Madison, 18 years old", the guy replied. Jeremy blinked as he heard the name. "Related to Chris Madison by any chance?", he asked. "Yeah, I'm his cousin", Ted said, "don't get me started about him. You know him?". "He's my rival in the LTB", Jeremy answered but quickly continued, "height and weight?" "6 feet, 260 pounds, "Ted stated. "260? That's a lot", Jeremy said, "We offer great weight loss programs to get in shape". "I'm not looking to lose weight. I want to compete as a bodybuilder", Ted replied and unzipped his hoodie, taking it off to reveal his torso. Jeremy's eyes widened instantly at the sight. Ted's tank top was stretched to braking point by his protruding chest; veins snaked across his huge arms; his round delts pushed widely outward. Ted grinned at Jeremy's reaction and casually bounced his pecs. "So you're an LTB'er like my cousin", he said, "What do you guys weigh?". "I… mgh", Jeremy cleared his throat as his voice cracked, "he's 215 and I'm 209." "I was around that weight two years ago, at 16", Ted said with a grin and clenched his fists to make his bicep jump. "With the new doping act in place, I also need a urine sample to make sure you're clean", Jeremy said. Ted frowned and folded his arms in front of his chest, making his pecs swell and bulge. "You think I built this body just by taking protein?", he barked. Jeremy looked at the angry teen in front of him, trying not to let his intimidation show on his face as he stared at the bulging pecs and veins snaking across the thick forearms. Before Jeremy could react, Ted his shirt and pulled him over the desk, his feet dangling in the air as he was lifted to eyelevel with the teen beast. "Ever since I was a kid, all the attention in the family was focused on Jeremy", Ted said, "at every family meeting it was Jeremy this and Jeremy that and how great he was doing at school and in sports and how he made the family proud. I never got any attention besides the traditional arm wrestling against him where he would pretend to struggle and then take anyone down…" "I know how it feels to stand in his shadow", Jeremy peeped in the strong grasp. "You have no idea!", Ted belted and shut him up, "I began doing drugs at 14 and ended up in juvy half a year later. One of the youngest kids and only 125 pounds. I was picked on daily by the others. Until I got in touch with a 17 year old that dealt drugs. He offered me some steroids to try and I was hooked. I worked out for hours daily and weighed 180 pounds a few months later. I passed the 215 pound mark at 16 and everyone just left me alone. On my 17th birthday, I got back on my former bullies. They were no match for my 240 pound body, I simply punched the shit out of them. Last month, on my 18th birthday I got out, weighing just over 260 pounds and ready to take on the world. I moved in with the guy that provides my gear." Jeremy looked into Ted's eyes and saw the determination. "Perhaps we could work something out", he said. "Thought so", Ted replied and released his grip, making Jeremy fall with his ass on the wooden desk. "You'll have to be cleanish to compete in the NBC, you'll have to pass the monthly tests so your friend will have to provide you with something undetectable. For here, I'll fill a cup with my urine and pretend it's yours if you help me take your cousin's top spot in the LTB", Jeremy said as he rearranged his shirt. "Getting back on my cousin for ruining my life is high on my list", Ted replied grinningly, "what do you have in mind?". "I need a sweaty shirt of him, as drenched in his sweat as possible for my revenge. Get my that and I will switch the urine sample and let you train here after closing time so your physique doesn't attract attention", Jeremy said. "Consider it done", Ted answered, put on his hoodie and strutted out. The next day Chris and Trisha were unloading the groceries from his car when a deep, yet familiar voice called out Chris' name. Chris looked up and saw a big, young guy in baggy clothes exiting the house next door. "Yo Chris! How ya doin'", Ted said as he strutted over to his cousin. Chris looked up at the 6 feet teen's face and blinked. "Teddy?", he asked incredulously. "It's Ted", the tall teen replied. "Man, you've grown since I last saw you", Chris said as he scanned his cousin's body hidden underneath the baggy clothes. "I thought you were bigger", Ted answered and playfully patted his cousin's muscular shoulder. "That five o'clock beard looks good on you. You live here now?", Chris asked. "Na, helped a friend move here. I'll be spending summer though", Ted replied, "Remember how we used to arm wrestle? How 'bout one for old times?". "Why not?", Chris said, "Come on in and let's see if you've gotten stronger". Ted barely suppressed a grin and followed his cousin inside his house. He greeted Trisha who came from the kitchen as the two cousins sat down at the dinner table. He put his elbow on the table and put out his hand, his physique hidden under his baggy hoodie. Chris had sat down in front of his cousin, put his elbow on the table and grabbed the big hand, his own muscles highlighted by his tight, red shirt. "Ready?", he asked. "What prize are we fighting for?", Ted asked, "a kiss from your girl?". "No way, man", Chris replied. "Afraid to lose?", Ted said with a smirk, "How 'bout winner gets loser's shirt?". "Why not?", Chris answered and winked at his girl standing next to the table. "Ready? Go!", Trisha said. Ted instantly fell that his cousin was no match for him. He saw the veins bulging all over his cousin's right arm as they struggled for superiority. Chris was testing his cousin's defenses and decided to go easy on the guy. He let their hands move from left to right a bit before he started applying more force and gently moved his cousin's hand toward the table. Ted pretended to struggle with the added force and let his cousin move his hand toward the table inch by inch. He kept resisting though, making his cousin fight for every inch. Chris felt his breathing fasten, veins bulging across his engorged 20 inch bicep as he kept pushing his cousin's hand down. Sweat formed on his forehead and his neck, sliding down as he fought against his cousin's resistance. Ted looked his cousin's reddening face and saw more sweat drip down on his shirt, its red fabric was darkening in the armpits. He let his hand move further down toward the table. Chris felt a pump starting the spread across his right pec from the effort; his right bicep pumped passed 20 inches as he summoned more strength for the final push. His red shirt was glued to his back with sweat and hugged his now sweaty pecs tightly. He gritted his teeth, his face reddening some more to end the fight. Ted applied more force and halted his cousin's advance just before his hand made contact with the table. His own arm felt fresh and strong. He playfully tested his cousin and instantly felt that his vein infested, pumped arm was burning out of fuel. He intently reversed the situation very slowly, inching back toward the starting point bit by bit to extend the fight. Chris' eyes widened as he felt his cousin fight back harder. He tried resisting, but he could feel his own strength fade. Sweat now flowed in streams over his dark red face, his shirt glued to his body as his hand retreaded upward. Ted brought their hands back to starting point bit by bit, savoring how his cousin struggled with all his might against his far superior grip; a mild pump only now began to spread across his 25 inch bicep, more because he held back than due to his cousin's resistance. Chris tapped into his last ounce of strength as his cousin pushed him back to starting point. He threw every bit of force in a final attack, sweat dripping from his face onto his now drenched shirt. Ted felt his cousin's final offensive, but his hand didn't budge an inch. Chris couldn't believe their locked hands kept perfectly straight under his force. His eyes widened as he felt the pressure behind his cousin's grip increase. Ted had only slightly upped his power, using only two thirds of the strength his 25 inch bicep could produce. He slowly pushed his cousin's hand past the starting point and down toward the table. Chris fought with everything he got, but he could feel his strength wearing down even more. The pump in his right pec was beyond anything he'd ever felt; his chest heaving up and down on the rhythm of his fast breathing in his sweat drenched shirt; his right bicep, pumped to almost 21 inches, felt like it was going to explode atop his now vein infested arm. Still, his hand was going down inevitably. Ted suppressed another smirk as he felt his cousin's useless resistance. He had dreamed about this day for years in juvy: how he would flatten the star of the family. The feeling of his muscular cousin fighting like a weak kitten against his own steely grasp was far beyond what he had imagined. The thought of toying with the guy that had eclipsed him, filled him with power. The feeling of physically dominating turned him on, making his cock harden in his sweat pants. The resistance his cousin put up, kept fading as their hands passed the last quarter point down to the table. Chris maintained his struggle; or tried to. His 215 pound body felt drained like he had just put it through a grueling workout. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his chest heaving up and down to suck in oxygen to fuel his muscles. His right bicep felt like it was about to rip from his arm as it crammed up and spasms shot through the worn out muscles in his forearm. Ted felt the spasms shooting through his cousin's forearm, but the arm didn't budge: his own powerful grip prevented the arm from moving. He pushed his cousin's hand down on the table with a thud. "Looks like I win", he said while keeping his hand locked atop his cousin's. "Yeah", Chris grunted, trying to free his hand but the big hand atop didn't move. He pulled a few times, all the while avoiding to look in his cousin's eyes. Ted got up, his hard 10 inch cock outline against his sweatpants, stepped up behind his cousin and pulled off his sweat drenched shirt, "Better not forget my prize". Chris moved his hands protectively against his own chest, feeling strangely vulnerable with the man that had just beaten him behind him and kept staring down at the table. Ted looked down on his cousin's pumped torso, grinning at how small it looked next to his own. "When you're up for a rematch, just let me know, Chrissy", he said, "I'll let myself out. He patted his cousin on his shoulder, turned around and strutted away. "Oh, no! you're our guest. I'll show you out", Trisha said and rushed behind him. She squirmed her delicate body past him, standing between him and the door. Ted quizzically looked down, the dark red shirt on his shoulder. Trisha stood on her toes, grabbing his right bicep for support. She bit her lips as she felt the huge arm under her fingers. "Still owe you a kiss", she whispered and grabbed his neck to pull him down. Ted savored the kiss, invading her mouth at full force. A faint rumble escaped his mouth as he felt her frail fingers grope his hard dick. "Come by anytime you want", she whispered lustfully in his ear and gave his dick a final squeeze before opening the door and letting him out. Ted instantly pulled out his phone when the door closed behind him. "Yo, J? I have it" "Good. Bring it to me ASAP so I can have my revenge". Ted hung up, got in his car and drove off to the gym…

Wait a minute...where was she? The massive man was there without her? This was a first! They were inseparable! And I could see why. Literally, the two most gigantic, beautiful people I've ever seen in my life. They would work out for hours and hours. And I'd just watch...I'd watch them get pumped up from their already obscene sizes to even bigger. I swear you could watch them grow before your very eyes. They had to have an insane sex drive. You could see it in the way they looked at each other. And this was the first time he was alone! I had to make a move. Any move. I couldn't let this opportunity slip through my fingers. I followed him, thinking about what a creep I was. He went to the squat rack, and loaded weight after weight onto it. The bar bent, and still he added more and more. I walked past him, just because I wanted to get a better look. Jesus...he looked bigger than ever. He must've been a foot and a half taller than me...and I am tall for a woman. I kept trying to think of ways to start a conversation with him. I'm not good at approaching...I'm a woman! Not only that, I had to compete with his beautiful, fit, curvy, fill figured, large breasted, wide hipped, thin waist'd, strong amazonian goddess of a girlfriend. Now I'm gorgeous. but even I can't hold a candle up to her. I was the hottest girl on this campus until she showed up. I try not to hate. I try to be humble and thankful. But come on, if you saw me, even you gays would be like "Yeah, I'd hit it." I was nervous about the other sex for the first time in my life. And it didn't help that I was watching while he began doing squats. His tight tank top and shorts clung to his body, as he shifted up and down seamlessly. It was a poetic strength, something that would inspire epic tales of ancient civilizations. Something so inhuman, people would believe that the gods were involved. I'm skeptical, though. He must have some very lucky genetics. No steroids can do...this... Holy shit... His tank top...a tiny rip just appeared in the side of it. He doesn't notice though... I watched more intently, not even caring how creepy i looked anymore. Each squat, bit by bit, little by little, was making him bigger. What the fuck...this can't be possible. He was smirking. I could see it happening. He could, too. I don't even think he noticed me watching. The giant bulge in his shorts swelled outward. Oh my god, I had to look away. If I watched this happen, I was going to have wet yoga pants to contend with. But this was amazing! I had to watch! I turned back just as he loaded the weight back on the rack. He was bigger! He was taller! What the hell! No, I had to get a part of this. I don't care what part. A touch. Some sex. Some growth. Something! I walked right up to him, my mind completely blank. He looked down...way down at me. I blushed. I was intimidated. Me! I'm fucking gorgeous. he should be creaming HIS pants at the sight of ME! His scent wiped away what little thought I had in my mind. The only reason I regained my senses was knowing that I had to something, anything, to attain the desire of my primal lust. "Uh...um..." I looked around, nervously. Other people were watching him, too. Now I was a part of the spectacle. It just made things worse. Say something! Anything, you idiot! He's just a man, don't let him have this power over you! "Yes?" he said, slightly annoyed, slightly intrigued. I think because he didn't have his girl around to focus on, his obviously intense sexual prowess was looking for something else to dominate. And I was a distant 2nd to his girl. I paused. I shook my head, squeezed my eyes shut, and blurted out in a tone loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough for others, and quickly, "I saw you grow I want you I want to grow I want you to grow more please take me take me or ill cry and cry and cry and it'll be your fault for making a grown woman cry you asshole you dick you fucking jerk!" There was a pause. I opened my eyes, I knew that my face was bright red, out redding my brown skin. He replied, in a deep voice that only the divine could have. "Wait, what?"

Here is a story I intend to create a few chapters of. But we'll see how dedicated I am. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I pumped the weights furiously. It was literally my only outlet. I'm the oldest girl, with 3 younger brothers, and parents from the Middle East. My parents have good intentions, but they can't seem to get past the culture shock of coming to America. Everyone is a whore in their eyes, and they think I'm going to be sucked up into the endless wave of hedonism. I mean, they're probably right. When I was younger, at least. I would've been that girl that didn't learn of the consequences of my actions. But hearing all throughout my childhood, the stories my dad would tell me, the things he saw...He opened up a store in the middle of the poorest community of Detroit. While sometimes I did go to work with him, safe behind the glass, there were some really scary things that went down. The thing is, this painted the picture of all America for him. Everyone was a drug addict trying to scam you. Everyone wanted to have sex with me and throw me to the curb. And before you assume anything, religion never had anything to do with it. Luckily, college gave me some relief from their over-protection. But try as I might, the constant barrage of lessons from my parents gave me a massive fear of things like drugs and alcohol. Which is fine, I guess. But it doesn't give me much of an outlet... That's when I picked up weight lifting. I started a year ago, and never stopped. I loved watching my body change and grow. I loved gaining strength and power. I loved the flexibility, I loved being able to pull myself up and over and around anything with little effort. I move gracefully and with purpose. I got lucky, though. Over this year, not only did I put on muscle mass and lost some of my baby fat, but my curves amplified. I had a booty that black women complimented. I had to buy a whole new set of larger bras for the 4th time this year. I swear, I'm ever a little taller! But all this motivation wouldn't have started if it wasn't for them. This couple I saw at the gym almost daily. They were at the school's gym more than anyone else, and I almost always saw them there. I wanted them to notice me. I wanted them to compliment me, and bring them into their program. I wanted more than anything to be a part of their team... I pushed the weight over and over again, thinking of them. Of their size and power. Of their beauty and grace. It motivated me. It gave me the strength to push out a few more reps. My body was soaked in sweat. I was already at the gym for an hour and a half, and everytime I thought of this couple, energy just grew within me. I'm surprised they weren't here yet... I set the weights down, feeling the deep burn in my muscles. I loved that feeling. It was like an addiction to me. I glanced at the gym's door... They were here! Yes! I looked around quickly like a giddy school girl, and moved to a station closer to the door, so I can have a better view of the magnificent, giant couple...

The Labours of Hugh By Chip Masterson For the Seigneur de M. “My God, what is that beast?” My master and I stood in awe as we watched a lone man carry an entire butt of beer on his back and gently drop it in place. You could hear it slosh - a thousand pounds of beer carried as lightly as a side of beef! But what looked like a man – or the absolute ideal of what a man could be – had the face of boy no older than I. His downy face looked untouched by a razor, yet the width of his shoulders rivaled every champion assembled here, with helmet-sized shoulders and chest muscles as thick as a man’s torso. His bare arms dwarfed my skinny legs, yet his waist, carved into grooves like a cathedral column, was flatter than mine. His legs were covered with several boar-hides stitched together, and with calves pushing them up like a giant’s fists. As he turned to leave, I could see he was so thick from the front edge of his chest to the highest peaks on his back, that if I were to stand with my back against his arm, his torso breadth would my shoulder-width. That back! A dozen crevices zigzagged among the humped cobbles and stony plateaus, undulating and transforming like a landscape in a dream. I pinched myself – I was awake. My master, Sir Alain, a knight of the royal court, had come to Chateaulin bearing the king’s congratulations to Count Houel on the birth of his second son. The Count was throwing a birth festival before hosting the folkmoot, and my master had entered the lists. He was speaking with the Marshal of the castle, Sir Geoff. Sir Geoff looked amused by our gawking. “That’s Hugh, one of my boys,” Sir Geoff explained. “He’s about the age of your boy here.” “Impossible!” Sir Alain sputtered. “I’ve seen quarry workers who couldn’t rival him for size!” “I rescued him after his parents exposed him in the woods,” Sir Geoff continued. “I soon discovered why – when he became impatient for food or cleaning, he smashed his crib to splinters with his tiny newborn fists. They feared raising a prodigy, but in some way, I felt commanded to care for him – I guessed then it was the voice of God, but now….” He paused, and changed course. “He’s very lonely – the other boys avoid him. He spends a great deal of time hunting alone in the forest.” “The Count allows a boy in the chase?” Sir Alain sustained shock after shock, and he hadn’t even mounted his steed yet. “The Count and all the farmers are grateful,” Sir Geoff explained. “Since he began entering the forest, we haven’t seen or heard a single wolf – it’s been years now. He eats like several men, and I can hardly increase his rations in front of the other boys, so he supplements his hunger with boars and other things he catches with his hands. The husbandmen even give him a portion of meat at every slaughter in thanks for his protection. It’s almost pagan,” Geoff added with a wry smile. “What a remarkable warrior he would be,” Sir Alain marveled, “if only he had a better station, and not born for the front line. Robert Guiscard could take all of Italy and drive Emperor Constantine into the arms of the Turks. But perhaps the work of a beast is a more fitting utilization of his unique – talents – after all. Providence is never wrong.” Sir Geoff looked at him sideways with his arms crossed, and said nothing. Soon we were preparing for the joust, a new form where, instead of a mass charge around the field, two knights face each other one-on-one and try not to get killed. I was nervous as a girl, though only King Philip could beat my master (though “beat” might not be a completely accurate description of what actually happened). My master was called against Sir Geoff and the knights rode out, the sunlight dancing off their shiny mail hauberks. They leveled their lances, and at the signal, charged. Almost immediately a strap on Sir Geoff’s saddle broke and he wobbled – but through his narrow visor, my master must not have noticed. Geoff couldn’t brace himself for a thrust and my master glanced a blow off his shoulder that sent Geoff spinning through the air and landing with a hearty smack. Everyone rose in silent suspense. My master had already turned about, still not realizing what had happened, not seeing see Geoff’s boys rush to his aid, . He began his parade – but a spur only jostled him in his saddle – his horse neighed but didn’t move. He kicked again but his mount’s effort to spring only resulting in it being pulled back into the air. My master dropped onto his back in the mud. Stunned, Alain looked up and saw Hugh holding his horse by the tail, fury etched into his handsome young face. “A strap broke – it wasn’t far, you should have stopped!” Hugh yelled – a shocking breach of order. My master flailed but couldn’t rise. My fellow knaves hesitated at the sight of Hugh – only I had quickly sprinted over – so Hugh cheekily slid his arm underneath my masters and effortlessly pulled him to his feet. They were the same height – maybe Hugh was my age, but he was easily a foot taller. “Apologize at once!” Hugh demanded, pressing his chest forward and making my master step awkwardly back. The audience gasped again at these unprecedented offenses, the Count himself shocked speechless. Instinctively raising his shield against Hugh’s “well-armed” aggression, Alain glared past him, glaring at a helmetless Geoff, who winced as boys removed his armor. “Sir, control your boy before his unseemly pride proves fatal!” Whether the threat irked Hugh more than being ignored, I’ll never know, but I saw Hugh’s jaw clench. In a blur, his arm sprang into the air, parallel with the ground, and punched my master’s shield in a quick, efficiently lethal motion – as if my master were livestock for slaughtering. Alain stumbled backward, sucking for air – the blow had split his shield and the horribly dented steel boss had torn the leather hide, sliced through the mail and sunk into Alain’s chest. The leather hide covering the shield trapped his strapped arms – he couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t pull it off. He fell on his knees, stunned and bleeding. The boys huddled in terror so I pleaded with Hugh, “Help him! He’s dying!” Rage melted from Hugh’s face like a passing storm and he realized with alarm what his immeasurable power had done – and to a man ostensibly his “better.” Hugh grabbed each side of the shield and wrenched them apart, shredding the hide covering and exposing the boss. He pulled that out and blood spurted against his face. He put his fingers into the mail and ripped it open like rotten cloth, pressing on the wound to staunch the flow until my fellows braved his proximity and aided our master. The doctor rushed forward, relieved that he could bind the wound without having the remove the mail shirt first. Count Houel rose imperiously and called for Geoff. I couldn’t hear what they said, but Geoff kept nodding and Houel furiously pounded his fist in his palm. Hugh stood a few feet from me with his head down. I smelled something sweet and salty I couldn’t quite place – I closed my eyes and it tickled the back of my mind. Like a memory I haven’t lived yet. I’d secretly taken the twisted and torn boss, and now surreptitiously fingered it behind my back – feeling the shape of his knuckles where they turned it inside-out, the warped edge that had torn and hurt him it should be protecting. Fortunately it missed his heart and lungs – but it’s the kind of scar you want from battle – not from a boy’s fist. Geoff went to Alain first, confirming the punishment, then came over and placed his hand on Hugh’s shoulder. His hand rose and fell like a rowboat at sea as Hugh breathed. Hugh nodded and walked around the center rail. A riffle disturbed the female stands, back and forth like a cauldron being stirred. Two big yoked draft horses were brought out and I understood what Hugh faced. I dropped to my knee beside my master and said, “Please, my lord, please spare his life! I’m sure he can be reformed! I believe he can do anything, anything he sets his mind to.” Alain patted my arm. “We’re only frightening him with what will happen if he doesn’t learn his place. The ostlers won’t let him get hurt. Too badly.” As I helped him into chair, I heard Hugh say, “What about my other arm?” My balls tingled. I shifted from foot to foot as a strange irritation grew in my groin. Two more horses were brought up from the stable. Hugh stuck out his arms, releasing feral tangles of reddish-gold curls sprouting beneath them and spraying a mist of sweat. With ropes, the ostlers lashed Hugh’s wrists to the yokes. Then, to guarantee the horses wouldn’t bolt and kill him, their bridles were lashed to the corners of the court, with enough slack that they could apply a torturous pressure that would remind Hugh of his place in the future. The horses fidgeted nervously, nostrils flaring and hooves kneading the dirt. Houel made an angry speech about honor and respect, but sensing a universal impatience, yielded Alain the field. Alain lifted his hand, and dropped it wearily. The ostlers promptly goaded the horses forward. The ropes leading from Hugh’s wrists twisted, but so did the ropes between his wrists and shoulders – his arms that almost dwarfed the haunches of the horses themselves. Each horse took several steps before its hooves slid against the dirt. Alain nodded again and the ostlers urged the horses harder – but the beasts could only lean into their bridles until the effort made them shake. Hugh stared at a point in the sky, his torso rising and falling, his legs planted like oaks. The stable boys urged the horses forward, but their legs could only dig grooves in the ground. Hugh turned his arms slightly, aligning his heaped shoulders with the winglike flare of his back, and refused to move. A sheen of sweat dappled the burnished golden down covering him, and I caught that sweet, wild scent stirring me – though there was no breeze. I realized it came from under Hugh’s arms. The horses smelled something different – their nostrils flared and with a single shriek, they bolted – or rather, attempted it. Hugh panicked at the sound and tensed his arms – two horses stumbled onto their forelegs. Hugh bolted them all in place. His hands gripped the ropes with white knuckles and his unexpected restraint multiplied panic into terror. The horses threw themselves against the ropes, bucking and springing, but only rising straight up instead of forward. The teams danced side to side, seeking any advantage over the terrible weight that pinned them down – and Hugh, squinting, jerked the ropes tight and stopped their dancing. Hugh pulled his shoulder blades together, his flesh humping and squeezing together. This dragged the horses backwards, and they screamed and stamped the ground in fear and fury. Hugh bent his elbows, tightening his arm muscles, and sixteen hooves skidded toward him half a metre. His hands twisted and he gripped the rope farther along, pulling it toward him as his swollen arms turned purple with veins. Though only half-bent, the meat of his forearms pressed against his bulbous upper arms. The horses’ eyes rolled with panic, their mouths frothing and chomping their bits. Hugh closed his eyes and, swaying side to side as he absorbed the animals’ combined efforts, raised his fists higher and brought them closer together. The reins to the court posts tautened and, as the audience gawped in amazement, the horses themselves rose off the ground and floundered, writhing helplessly in mid-air. Hugh twisted the rope again and drew more into his relentless fingers, his chest rippling with dents and ridges as he fought to bring his fists together, lungs heaving. The animals twisted as they stretched between the posts and Hugh, their shrieks strangled by the pressure into hoarse gasps of desperation. Urine and shit poured out of each animal as Hugh’s inexorable hands reached for each other. A shocking crack of splitting timbers shook the stands as the posts gave way – but not enough. A groan like stretching leather was followed with a horribly wet FWWWWUMMMPPPPP! Hugh’s fists knocked against each other – because his arms had ripped four horses apart, spewing blood and gore over his rounded masses and into the crowd. The torn torsos flew towards him and clumped into the dirt while the head-half rebounded into stands. Some people screamed and ran but some couldn’t move, shaking or trembling. Flushed with victory, Hugh smiled broadly and quickly shredded his rope. He opened his eyes and saw with disbelief what carnage his arms had wrought. His skin glowing and his entire body heaved for air, a weird pride surmounting the grotesquerie. Young maidens surged from the stands, yammering and gazing devotedly at him. Pleased (and a little stunned), he flexed his arms and the girls caught their breath – a couple swooned. The bush-covered, deep round pocket that sank between his back and chest and smelled warm and inviting. One bold lass reached out to touch him, giggling, her fingers flying back as if burned. “It’s okay,” Hugh said. “I can make it bigger.” Hugh began pumping his arms, and muscles still swollen from the struggle turned from red to violet, with blue veins snaking under the skin. Each pump expanded his arms got bigger, until their round shape changed and a second peaked cap rose above the bulk. The maidens were all modestly attired – not a bosom in sight – and yet his presence, his heat, his scent compelled their hands to reach for him, regardless of propriety. Several of the girls swarmed around him, their fingers exploring his physique as they might a statue of Hercules. With a huge smile, Hugh dropped his arms and thrust out his chest, letting them uselessly poke their fingers into its obdurate surface, feel its edges and contours. I could see it dawning on their astonished faces how Hugh’s living flesh mocked the so-called armor of the knights. As their fingertips traced the arabesque of ridges in his back, I could also see a single pulse along one leg of his trousers. Hugh’s own eyes now brightened as the fawning girls sparked pleasure in his man-parts, which in turn shadowed his handsome face with anxiety. Despite his advance development, I guessed he’d always used his arms and legs as tools, never experienced a rush of triumphant potency flooding his limbs, then reaching beyond them and enthralling the opposite sex. The girls’ desire sparked lightning which flowed through his muscles to his manhood, forever fusing sexual arousal with displaying his body and exerting his strength. As if he were entirely a living erection. A savage bellow erupted from suddenly jostling shrubbery and in a cloud of dust, a massive bull appeared, its nose bloody where it ripped away from its ring. The girls shrieked and fled, many simply crouching behind Hugh. The bull faced Hugh and pawed the ground, challenging him. I heard my master say, “There’s something in Hugh’s sweat that disturbs stallions and bulls alike. It maddened those horses, and now our bull senses his dominance threatened.” Before anyone could move, the bull lowered its broad head and charged, lance-sharp horns swinging wildly. Hugh growled back and actually ran at the bull, bulging arms cocked and ready to spring. They met in a thunderclap of bone striking bone-hard muscle as Hugh slammed his chest against the bull’s skull. Each animal bounced back from the impact, the bull staggering with its tongue out. Hugh recovered first and grabbed the horns low. Digging his mighty legs into the soft earth, he shoved the bull’s skidding hooves back, away from the stands. But the bull seemed locked on his enemy – it swung and shook its huge head – or attempted to. Hugh grunted and rocked sideways; his shoulders turning ominously toward the beast, each like a head sprouting a thicker horn. The bull bucked his head until Hugh slowly, steadily, unmercifully slowed it into immobility. The bull pulled back and twisted its thick neck the other way – but Hugh twisted his wrists and raised his elbows, checking its progress and holding it tight. With a strained groan, Hugh forced the shuddering head back up. The bull tried to toss Hugh up into the air but Hugh’s grip held it like tar. With a war cry, Hugh exploded and slammed the bull’s head down against the ground. Angered, stunned, the bull leaped forward – but didn’t get far. Hugh’s shoulders sank back, soaking up the bull’s strength and then driving it back out against the animal with greater force. In quick bursts Hugh thrust the bull back; its set hooves trenched the earth which could not withstand Hugh’s power. Trapped in superior hands – Hugh utterly controlled the head, defying the animal’s every twitch – the animal’s eyes rolled and its bellows rose in broken cries of disbelief. The crowd cheered to see this boy-man tame a bull bare-handed – so Hugh grinned and raised one fist into the air … and contained the bestial violence with one hand! The crowd’s deafening praise drowned out the bull’s chest-rumbling fury, its rippling shoulder and haunches quivering, shaking – impotent. Squealing with rage, the bull jabbed its free horn a few centimetres at Hugh. The boy brought his free fist down on the bull’s head. A crack like lightning splitting a tree shocked everyone to silence. Hugh struck the bull again, his knuckles smacking into the densest part between the horns. The bull’s knees buckled and drool looped out of its mouth. One more THWOKKK and the bull dropped flat. Shaking out his hand while the crowd cheered, Hugh walked around and stuck his arms under the bull’s belly. In one swift move he lifted the enormous beast up against his chest … and then his arms pressed it up over his head. He dropped it once against his own stony shoulders and the bull guttered an exhausted wheeze. He lifted the pull again and repeated the drop, the impact making the bull’s head loll. Finally Hugh lifted the bull over his head and carried it around the arena, giving everyone a close look before he SLAMMED it against the ground, its legs splayed out like petals. The impact clattered weapons in their racks, and some of the ladies lost their balance. The bull lay perfectly still so Hugh slapped its face several times to see if he had killed it with one fist. The bull opened its eyes, saw Hugh, licked Hugh’s hand and rolled over on its back, its enormous male-part exposed, red and glistening. Hugh held both hands over his head again like a champ. Under the crowd’s cheers I heard my master mutter, “That bull will never stud again.” “Young knave,” announced Houel once ordered was restored, “God and Fortune have placed you in the lowest estate, in which your earlier offenses to Sir Alain are unpardonable. And yet your manly vigor and dauntless courage indicate a nobler origin, one in which your outburst would not only be unexceptional, but possibly demanded as a point of honor. With your parentage unknown, we may never know the truth – except through your honorable and obedient actions henceforth. I bid you to mind your tongue and temper, obey my vassal Sir Geoff in all things, and your God-thewn limbs may one day raise you to an estate commensurate with your valor.” The Count then turned to the events planned for after noon dinner, but my eyes were drawn to his left arm, which had disappeared behind his back. It appeared to be rhythmically twisting back and forth – or rather, in and out – as he spoke of Hugh. I doubt anyone else noticed – all eyes remained on the smiling hero, his cowed bull; Hugh’s innocent freckles belied a ferocity lurking underneath. I had to see to my master’s horse. Hugh led me to the stable, saying eagerly, “You need to clean the hooves, right?” he asked me. Before I could so much as unstrap the saddle, Hugh ducked underneath the stallion and lifted him over his head – this after so many exertions already! The horse panicked at first, but Hugh’s deep voice and commanding presence calmed it – I even saw the head of its maleness peeking out, as with the bull. My own trousers felt heavy and tight and I stood riveted before the column of living power before me. “Well, go on!” he said. “I’m hungry!” I grabbed a pick and indulged in cleaning each hoof without bending over – I barely had to move the stallion’s legs. When I indicated I was done – I had no voice – Hugh gently put the horse down and deftly unbuckled the tack, which he effortlessly carried, saddle in one hand and all the dressings in the other, to a bench and rack against the wall. When he came back, he asked if he could brush the animal instead. “I didn’t like hurting those horses before, or the bull,” he said sheepishly. “Something just came over me I can’t put into words – like when I’m hunting. I’m usually gentle here.” He wielded the brush like a pro, the stallion responding with shivers and affectionate nudges – one animal acknowledging the superior protection and care of another. I marveled, not for the first time, how some animals sense danger in his aroma, while others are soothed … and aroused. Hugh ate separately from the other boys, who swarmed around the young squire. The noble boy kept looking at Hugh with jealousy, but managed to captivate the other boys with tales of court love affairs and adventures. Only one boy looked our way … and he too looked jealous when he caught my eye. Hugh finished his portion of stew before I had barely begun, and fetched a bag full of preserved meats from his stash. The rough burlap had his name crudely embroidered on it, and while I finished my plate, the boy-man devoured several hunks of dried meat, teeth ripping the hard flesh apart with animal hunger. The morning’s excitement, and being both full and so near Hugh’s humid heat, made me long for a nap. But Hugh jumped up and dragged me with an iron grip out to watch the afternoon events. When prizes were awarded, everyone looked at Hugh as if they knew he deserved not only the top prize, but the whole array of jewelry. The winners too seemed abashed, even my master, who came in third overall and got a beautiful golden torque with three emeralds. I noted that, though decorative, it could fit his neck – but not Hugh’s. I had to attend my master at dinner and eat with the other boys, but when we were dismissed, I left them and went back to the stable. He brightened like dawn when he saw me – his new friend – and we went outside and sat on a stone in the cool evening. Without a word, he draped his heavy arm around my shoulders and I stiffened to support its weight. After watching the stars come out in companionable silence, he yawned like a lion and guided me to his lonely straw pallet, away from the boys on the other side of the animal stalls. Hugh dropped his trousers pulled off his loin cloth, sniffed it, nodded and put it back on. His virile member swung away like a pendulum – but most remarkably, it was utterly smooth. I had thought, given the maturity of his armpits, that he’d be woolly below as well – but that growth had not yet started, it seemed, no more than his beard. How poised between two worlds he seemed, striding them both like the Colossus of Rhodes. Unexpectedly, I felt fear sleeping next to a creature so powerful and, worried he might crush me in his sleep (or in a bear-hugging dream), I curled into a tight ball on the edge of the mat. The night turned frigid and a howling wind whipped around the stable. But Hugh burned like a fully-stoked furnace, his pale skin radiant. I heard him say, “Are you afraid of me too?” I rolled over and, shivering, told him, “I didn’t think I was, but suddenly I felt very tiny.” He looked hurt and said, “I never hurt little creatures. That would be terrible. I don’t even step on worms after it rains.” He extended his arm and I wormed closer, his heat like a heavy woolen blanket embracing me. My head was smaller than the pillow of his arm, not stony at all but firm and, in some way, compelling and safe. He saw the arch in my loincloth and looked around excitedly – “Did girls sneak in?” When he realized we were alone, he sighed and said, “Oh, you’re like Ralph. Ralph was my friend until the others turned him against me.” “Nothing could ever turn me against you!” I blurted out. “I would pledge myself to you as your vassal forever, here and now, if you could take me.” He giggled at the ridiculous thought but nestled happily against me. “You can touch them, if you want,” he said quietly. “I never used to like it when Ralph did it, but today it felt different – all those girls’ hands. I don’t know what I felt. I sure liked it though.” “You’ve never been with a girl?” I asked in amazement, assuming he’d plowed wide and deep. He shook his head. “My master told me the story of Samson, but the truth was, his hair was a symbol of the other thing that grows out of a man. And when he lay with Delilah, she took his essence – so he became weak, her weak slave.” I realized Geoff must have been afraid of what Hugh’s youthful exuberance might do to a tender girl – or grown woman, or sheep or cow. I said nothing and placed my hand on his belly, which ran beneath my fingers like hot bricks on a cooking hearth. I explored the heavy bulk beneath his smooth skin, not clench into stones but full of rumbling threat, rising and falling with his breath. It felt like a city street brought to life, the cobbles able to yield or harden at will. My hand crept up to where his chest rose up like an escarpment – though he lay flat on his back! – and spread like wings to either side. I could barely reach over his chest and rub the solid mound of his shoulder, and stroke the junction where his chest and arm came together like the stanchion of a rope bridge. He raised his forearm and drew my face in his humid armpit. Though I wasn’t nearly finished exploring his manly terrain, the heat and sweet pit-fumes and soft tickling hairs overwhelmed me and I shot my seed in several fierce spurts, my whole being jerking and one foot cramping up. I don’t know if he noticed, but he didn’t let me go – I think he’d already fallen asleep. My release, after the day’s events, left me empty and I too slept in his dark musky chamber. I awoke before dawn – Hugh was already at his chores. Duke Conan would be arriving this morning to begin the folkmoot (there’s quite a queue of gripers this time around, I hear), and the great entertainments would continue, including a troupe of acrobatic Prussian dwarves said to be astounding and funny. A post rider ripped by us and headed straight into the castle. Word went around that we were to assemble, and soon Count Houel mounted the rampart along with by Sir Geoff and the seneschal, an old man, called for everyone’s attention. “My esteemed brother-in-law, Conan Duke of Bretagne,” Houel announced, “shall arrive presently – yes, yay, quiet, quiet! – and he sends ahead not only his salutations – please, quiet! – but also a demand: William, Duke of Normandy, has taken Maine - yes, an outrage! – and our lord expects Normandy shall enter our lands as well, with or without invitation. Every able-bodied man of service age is to immediately prepare for a dress inspection with what weapons and armor he is able to supply, so that we may assess the state of our defense and prepare accordingly. We shall gather again an hour before dinner ready for war and our lord’s review.” He clapped his gauntlets and hell erupted as everyone leapt pall-mall to get home and dust/shine what rusty pieces of tin may decorate their mantels. The Bretons hadn’t seen much action in recent years other than border skirmishes here and there. Now local politics had now thrown Bretagne’s scent under William’s nose and he was chasing it down like the dog of war he is. For armor, the knaves generally tussled over left-overs and scraps from the smithies, but nothing fit Hugh. An older boy remembered an unusually stout squire many years ago who had left mail behind. It was out of style but I doubt anyone would notice that, if it fit. Hugh had to borrow a tunic from the blacksmith – he rarely wore a shirt of any sort. I spread tallow over the arms and shoulders of the borrowed tunic, trying not to linger in the all the rippling valleys and crests which thrummed like volcanos even while relaxed. I and three other boys then lowered the hauberk over his head. We could have restyled the hauberk, repositioning the giant belly links to Hugh’s shoulders where they were needed, but we hadn’t time. We jerked and yanked hung our entire weight off the armor, squeezing it around the outcroppings his his chest, shoulders and back. It hung loose halfway down his midsection and when he put down his arms, the sleeves didn’t quite reach the elbow. The coif fit fine over his head but was tight around his neck, and spread only partly as far over his upper torso as it was designed to. He started breathing fast in the constricting armor, the clinking links rattling with each breath oddly disturbing, if musical. He could barely move in any direction and looked as stiff as a giant wearing a doll’s costume. We watched in awe as the many war machines were wheeled out and lined up for demonstrations. Somehow, I thought Hugh more impressive than they. By the time Duke Conan arrived, all the pomp and ritual left us sweating in the sun, knees trembling from the weight of unaccustomed armor. A couple boys passed out, clattering to the ground, but Hugh looked fine – confined, sweatily pungeant, but unaffected by the heat. While reviewing us, Conan blinked several times when he came to Hugh. “You there, come forward,” Conan ordered. Hugh walked stiffly forward. “How can you fight? It looks like you can barely move.” Knowing he had erred in not previously providing Hugh with suitable armor in case of war – so rare was fighting in these parts – Geoff piped up and said, “He’s had a growth spurt recently and his armor is actually at the blacksmith’s for alterations--” Duke Conan silenced him, eyes glued to Hugh, and said, “I was speaking to the … boy.” He walked around Hugh, suppressing a sigh at the span from side to side, and front to back. He actually ran his fingers across Hugh’s upper back to test if this was some kind of prank. I don’t think he could tell where the steel stopped and Hugh began. Suspicious, perhaps, that beneath the tunic was steel casing of some kind – perhaps plated armor (Houel could hardly afford to fit his entire levy in plate – no one could), Conan came around and ordered Hugh to raise his arms. Then he cocked his ear, listening closely. Hugh raised his arms straight out the side. The links squirmed noisily as the hard surface below changed shape. The entire hauberk rode up several inches. “Now throw your arm back and bend it as if you were going to throw a spear.” Hugh got his arm half-way back when he got stuck. Conan exchanged a dark look with Count Houel and Hugh wiggled his torso, shifting several more belly inches up around his chest so he could move his arm all the way back. As he half-bent his arm, the links twisted and flattened around it. “Make a muscle,” Conan ordered. Hugh obliged. Hugh tightened his fist made his sinews expand, higher and wider. The mail exploded, shooting fragments of steel in both directions. The other warriors yelled and shielded themselves from the painful missiles. The Duke blinked and saw the pale reddened mound surmounting through the shattered mail, splitting the tunic as Hugh made it bigger … and bigger … and bigger still … and with a final straining grin, created two peaks and peppered us with several more links. Hugh looked eagerly at Conan for approval, but Conan simply stood there with his mouth open. So Hugh, thinking the Duke wanted to see more, held out his other arm and flexed it fully-extended. The chain mail tightened noisily while the meat of his back-arm jutted out … getting rounder … bigger … until it shamed the upper arms of most men and held the links at maximum tautness. His front-arm resembled rose in a long arch, trembling a moment against the links until they popped in the middle and ripped open, exposing the deep crevice between the two halves. Hugh then flexed his arm to match, possibly outdo, his other arm – and the mail and tunic obediently tore apart deep into the pit and over the dragon-claw undulations of his shoulder. He stood there, showing off his two beauties, and several women fainted. Female sighs and moans (or I should say, high-pitched sounds – not limited to females) sang through the assembly as he put his hands on his hips. At the same time, he moved his elbows out and widened his back in stages, left to right, left to right, so you could see his it from the front! The links chinked and jumped, the bottom rising higher and higher up his torso … and then Hugh bounced his chest muscles back and forth. Twisted steel shards blew off his chest and showered down on the crowd, often drawing blood. Even the Duke was not immune but nobody stopped him, watching him in rapt awe. Pulling his shoulders forward, he split the hauberk down the sides, tearing steel like old cloth. Strips of unhinged metal flowed off his body like oil. He kept on popping all his muscles until he reduced the tattered armor to old fringe hanging off the coif. For a moment, I felt a communal urge to spontaneously kneel. But Conan’s eyes shone avidly, and he clapped his hands together. He turned toward a pavilion set up for dinner and ordered, “Clear away the food and bring that banquet table up onto the dais. Right up there,” Conan pointed. As servants scurried, I heard him say to Houel, “I think we have a secret weapon against Normandy right here. I will test of his capacities.” Turning to Hugh, he intoned, “Young knave, come forward and show us your pith.” “Please, sire,” Hugh said, bowing and coloring deeply, “I’ve done enough lately, and it makes the other boys – they’re scared of me. I don’t want to scare people anymore.” “It’s not a request, boy!” Conan thundered. “You will do as commanded or face the consequences.” A nod from Geoff removed his objection and he nodded his obedience. Obviously the Duke hadn’t been informed about the bloodbath yesterday’s “consequences” turned into. It took four straining, huffing servants to trundle over the enormous oak-plank table over the uneven ground. While they struggled with the empty table, Hugh pulled off the coif, his arm nearly pressing against his face, and stripped off the remnants of mail and tunic. A flock of girls surrounded him, rubbing shreds of tallow-covered tunic into his white, perfect skin with a fervid devotion that would make the saints jealous. Others caressed his chest and several explored his back. Three or four of them gripped his arms and he suddenly raised them to his sides, the girls hanging off like pennants and giggling with feverish delight. He showed off how his arms charged shape, raising and lowering the girls with only the granite peaks. They swung back and forth but he stood solid as a Maypole. A couple dropped to caress his legs through the boar hides but that alarmed the ancient seneschal, who hobbled over with a loud bell and shooed them all away. The table arrived at the said, but the servants were too exhausted to lift it up the step, so four fresh servants came and heaved, fumbling, with all their might. Duke Conan grinned and commanded, “Everyone - remove your armor and pile it onto the table!” Geoff sent the dwarf troupe over to help, and as boys helped free their masters and shucked their own hauberks, the dwarves made a clever show of passing it along and, climbing upon each other’s shoulders, layering the mail and helmets with exaggerated artistry. The boards of the platform groaned and popped as the weight increased, and increased further. Just when I thought I heard the table complain as well, Conan called a halt, and ordered two goblets to be filled with wine and set at either end of the table. Reaching into a pocket inside his sleeve, Conan pulled out a small cross, gold with garnets and pearls. “If young … young …” (a servant whispered to him) “young knave Hugh can lift this table into the air without spilling so much as a drop of wine from either goblet, I will entrust his master with this, my own devotional cross, to secure his education and his future needs.” A collective gasp went up – knaves were not allowed to own gold. To have a small treasure in trust for the future was unheard of. Conan either doubted Hugh could combine vigor with dexterity and endurance … or he prayed for it with all his soul. Geoff caught Hugh’s shoulder and whispered, “Remember – when you move things quickly then stop, anything not tied down will keep moving. Slow and steady.” I could see Hugh reining his enthusiasm by the set of his jaw. He leapt onto the dais from a stand and surveyed he table from various angles. The platform cricked underneath Hugh’s feet as he circled – the links of armor tinkled and flared in the sun. His additional weight severely stressed a dais constructed to hold a dozen men. The table sported a pair of stout columns carved with spiraling grooves at each end, braced by an inconvenient trestle running the nearly three-metre length of the bankette. And undulating terrain of steel rose in layers above his head. The goblets were nearly brimful. The trestle would get caught between his legs if he straddled it – he’d never get it all the way. I saw now Conan’s strategy – not simply testing Hugh’s brawn, but his strategic thinking and adaptability. And any solution would require more than simple pith. He went around to the back so all we could see was Hugh’s bent, boar-hide covered legs under the table – the armor pile fully obscured him. He squatted and extended his arms at angles underneath. Then he straightened his legs: and the table rose steadily off the platform. Cries of awe and disbelief rifled through the crowd. The platform sank beneath his feet, the wood barking loudly. Widening his stance, Hugh seemed to drop his shoulders and press up from underneath – the towering steel swayed and flashed in the sun. He edged one foot in front of the other, boards sagging loudly from the concentrated weight. Finally, the bottom of his chest-shelf caught against the trestle. He took several deep breaths while everyone else held theirs. In one smooth movement, he powered the creaking table out and up into the air, slipped his head underneath it and shifting his hands to align with the corners for stability. A loud POPPPP! burst from the platform, which bounced dangerously beneath him. One of the builders caught his attention with a glinting knife, and pointed out where the joists were. With a grateful smile (me: jealous), Hugh slowly spread his legs until they rested on the cross-supports. Thicker trusses protested at such punishment – when it was covered with chairs and people, the platform had been silent, solid as the earth – but they took the stress. He whipped his back leg forward and the swirl of interlocking sinews that rose from his waist and twisted around each other to brace the expanse of his upper torso made the carved pillars at the table’s ends look puny. Plus, how such a narrow, flat and tightly-coiled abdomen could rise and moor the broad clustered beef that anchored his oak-branch arms … it defied belief. No blubbery “strongman” rival such power, such beauty. Sweat trickled down the gullies and trenches of his man-flesh, and his groiny-salted scent wafted insensibly through the crowd. Men stirred unwittingly, uncomfortably, some angrily, while girls and women both undulated, their own bodies responding to Hugh’s proximity by lubricating their gyrations and stirring their desires. I felt my own ass and cock discharge an oily moisture as I wiped drool off my chin. Hugh turned his hands backwards and pressed the table high. The mountains of armor shifted slightly but the tremoring goblets stayed dry. As the trestle scraped against his belly – I half-expected to see shavings fall away as Hugh’s serrations carved the wood as it rose. But of course, the ladies had massaged enough cow fat into his skin that it slid easily past them. With his arms extending above his head, his chest bulged out so far out that Hugh pressed his his chin against the top of one to brace his neck. It did not dent. With a final grunt, he thrust and locked his elbows, the bole-thick knotted arms fitting into his shoulder and chest musculature like a complex war machine. The trestle caught on his overhanging chest and bent like a bow in that final thrust – I dug my nails into my legs, afraid the wood would crack. But the squawking wood held and a cheer went up all around. All except Conan, who’s intent face sweated as profusely as Hugh’s, and whose hips jerked violently, his entire body rigid. But Hugh wasn’t done defying our imaginations. Carefully, Hugh stepped to the end of the dais and dropped down onto the first step, bending his arms to keep the table level as he descended. The stair steps squeaked until he got nearly to the bottom, when one snapped with a BANG! Everyone jumped and yelled in fear for him. But Hugh took it in stride, smoothly following the drop while scrunching his body to keep the table level. He dropped his other foot onto the ground, and walked through the last, splintering steps and risers as if they were made of straw. He carried the table directly to Conan himself. Tension gripped the crowd – what was he going to do? For a moment, I felt a flash of panic - he would hurl the table and its contents onto the Duke and pronounce himself King, defying all challengers. I even saw Conan flinch, his guards fidgeting between the call of duty and the sudden will to flee. But Hugh merely lowered the table back down so that it hovered above the ground, and turned it sideways so Conan could observe, and remove, the first unspilled goblet without having to move himself. Then he kept turning, showing Conan and the audience the rippling contours of this back, which tremored in a rapid tattoo from the strain but never flagged from their labors. My eyes were drawn to the perfect globes capping his hide-clad legs - I wanted to grab them and pull him against me – or hang on while he pressed himself into me. But I shook those thoughts out of my head. Hugh stopped again so Conan could take the second goblet and verify that not a drop had spilled from it either. The he completed his circle and, his arms and shoulders beginning to quiver, he lowered the table to the ground as if presenting it as a gift to his lord. Hugh came around, issuing a hot wind of deep breaths and looking as though he could defy Samson and Hercules together. He dropped down on one knee before Conan, his head sinking beneath the rising plateaus of his back. Hugh could barely control his quavering musculature as he recovered from the punishing victory – he vibrated with effort and stilled himself, as he had the bull. In a cracked, hollow voice, Conan said, “Riiii--” He coughed drily, drank half a goblet down and sputtered, half-choking. With wine staining his chin, he said in a tight voice, “Rise, s- … m-my boy. Where is your m-m-master?” Geoff stepped forward, beaming with pride and relief. Conan gave Geoff the golden jeweled cross, and made him swear an oath on the blood of the Savior that that treasure should be used only to secure a future fit for man who will doubtless perform feats of great renown in the service of his lord and land. Again he crowd cheered and Hugh disappeared beneath a roiling female sea. Water, oil, food passed hand to hand through the crowd to care for him where he knelt, and Conan, feeling singularly ignored, stepped over the Houel and called Geoff and Alain to them. “I had thought to test your war machines against one of the menhirs in that field over there – but I think that, once he has fed and rested, we should test them against young Hugh. That will give us a greater idea of how we could deploy him against the machines of our enemies.” Geoff clearly wanted to protest – both the test and the “use” of Hugh in place of a giant rock simply went too far. But it was not his place, and turned away and prepared to speak with Hugh about what he still must do to fully earn the jeweled cross. Myself, I felt Hugh would love dominating the biggest, mightiest mechanisms created by man – if he were fresh. The last few days, he expended more puissance than a dozen or more grown men. Any failure due to fatigue could make him very angry. And I’d seen him angry – Hugh nearly killed an armored knight with one controlled half-punch through his shield. Even a days’ delay would restore him sufficiently. Worried for him, and the rest of us, I tried to tote up how many men would have to pool their strength to accomplish Hugh’s many feats – the horses followed by the bull, then lifting a horse, then chores chores chores; and chores the next morning before bursting armor and slowly lifting a weight that nearly destroyed the dais he stood on. I could see men falling in exhausting, others rushing to sustain an enterprise for which Hugh required no assistance. I felt dizzy – such potency in one boy-man violated every sense of reason and nature. It was a breach in the world, some supremacy stepping down from the world beyond and stretching human belief to its breaking point. I remembered Jacob had wrestled with an angel, and held it helpless in his arms for three solid days before the angel was able to treacherously injure Jacob’s hip, and escape ignominiously the patriarch’s iron grasp. If men have lived before who could dominate even the angels of God, then perhaps such a man could exist again – not a pagan mythical Hercules, but real man, created by God … perhaps to test our faith. See if we would worship the miracle worker or the one true God who made him. I prayed for guidance through this confusion … but my hands weren’t the only part of me pointing towards heaven. “Jealous?” Alain said, coming up behind me, making me jump. “Ah! Sir, uh, n-no…” I stuttered. He gently cuffed my head and gestured to where Hugh had moved to a couch and was being fed and massaged (or groped) by a hundred hands. “Someday you’ll have the girls pawing over you too,” he told me. “But I’m afraid today, no man here can compete with this shining prodigy.” Relief flooded me – he never suspected who I was jealous of…. Mid-afternoon, people stretching from naps re-assembled for the siege-engine demonstration. The first to be wheeled forward was a new battering ram. “In battle,” Geoff explained, “the roof would be covered with wet hides. Thirty metres long, it weighs over a tonne thanks to the iron head. We can fit thirty men on each side.” “That doesn’t look like a ram to me,” Conan said, peering at the head. “It looks like … a fist.” Houel glowed with pride. “That was my innovation. It’s more frightening, isn’t it? Like the fist of God knocking on the door.” Conan rolled his eyes and said sourly, “I think if Hugh stands on that rise over there, he’ll be in a position to test this … fingered thing.” While the engine was wheeled into place, Hugh eagerly ran over and put his hands on his hips. The shadows his wide shoulders and prominent chest cast over his stomach made the cobbles look truly like a stone wall … except that, while he waited, Hugh flexed and relaxed the individual cobbles and rolled his stomach like sea swells. Stone walls can’t do that. Geoff instructed the soldiers, “Let’s start slow – just you ten.” They positions and began swinging the chains faster, and faster, and faster. The heavy SWOOOOOSH through the air conveyed the speed and weight of the ram and for a moment, I seriously feared for Hugh: that ram could knock a bull out more efficiently than Hugh had. It could kill the bull at one blow. Had Hugh met his match? Soldiers swiftly pulled the brakes away while others shove and the machine lurched forward with its thick capped member extending obscenely. An ear-splitting SMAKKKKK! made us wince as the iron fist struck Hugh dead center in his belly. Hugh flew off his feet and the machine lurched backward, shoulders yelling from the shock that rattled their arms. Hugh landed on his shield-tough back several metres away and rutted the turf landing. He immediately sat up and waved he was unhurt, shaking his golden curls to clear his head. The soldiers however hobbled off the platform, gripping their forearms in each hand, faced carved in pain. “That was fun!” Hugh laughed before leaping straight up onto his feet. His stomach blazed angry scarlet beneath his pale freckled chest. He mock-punched himself and clowned like it really hurt, but then he grinned and, stretching side to side and back and forward, assumed his stance for round two. The crowd bubbled with murmuring like a pot nearing the boil – particularly on the ladies’ side. The men gave each other dirty looks at how openly their women displayed such rampant desires – an impotent rage, given their rival. Two dozen new soldiers replaced the first crew and exchanged nervous glances. Once again, the chains swung back and forth, gathering force. It seemed to gather the crowd as well – people swayed back and forth in rhythm, their excitement building along with the ram’s speed. They unleashed the engine with a violent rush and I hid behind my hands. A thunderclap braced the air as Hugh flew higher and faster and farther than before. The log shuddered to an astonished stop and many of the soldiers screamed and fell to the floor from an impact their joints weren’t designed to sustain. Hugh cut a trench through the field and he sank from view. Yet he hooted merrily and we knew that the ram had failed to hurt him again. Yet Conan frowned – I don’t think he expected Hugh to sail into the air, however unhurt he may be. Had he imagined an impossible spectacle? Had he hoped to insert Hugh between a ram and a besieged gate in the hopes of protecting the fortress with Hugh’s stronger build? Clearly that wouldn’t work. I looked at Geoff, who wore the same worried look as my master: an unhappy lord is more dangerous than any war engine. Yet I saw clearly what Conan overlooked: a ram’s force is transferred into the gate or wall, which cracks and weakens as that force flows through it. Hugh did not absorb that force – he repelled it. That’s why the shock surprised the soldiers and why the ram wobbled backwards. It was that repulsion, force being echoed away from Hugh, that propulsed him through the air. A gate made of such material would be impregnable. Hugh alone possessed such material. Again, I shivered, thinking of a living man who could harden himself beyond any other rock or metal in creation. A living man who let me touch him. Cheers and guffs of awe rose from the crowd as Hugh marched back to the frustrated machine, clods of soil falling off the harder bedrock of his back. Geoff rushed over, whispering urgently to him - Hugh smiled like the sun and nodded happily. The soldiers looked frightened. And this time, the ram was fully crowded with men. The crowd mirrored the swinging ram with their bodies, thrusting themselves forward and back in unwitting unison and urging some maximum test which could release their pent-up excitement. The huge log sliced through the air with a deepening WHOOOSH that beat fast and faster until the moment of its release: it sped forward and Hugh unexpectedly leaped at the iron head with his chest. The KKRRRAKKKKK! rang like a church bell breaking apart. Hugh dropped straight down while the entire engine bounce swiftly away from him, the men behind it jumping out of the way and the rowers flying off the sides. Hugh didn’t move. A frozen silence held the crowd until, as a single being, it raced forward. Hugh looked up and sucked in a mighty draught of air, shook his head and looked around, blinking. The crowd stopped, as if the living thing might become a dragon or griffin. A stunned look clouded his eyes – then they focused on the engine rolling to a slow stop, listed to the side where something broke, and all the men crawling away in pain. He remained crouching, catching his wind. Conan himself inspected the state of the ram. A split ran the entire length of the log – it slumped unevenly in its chain sling. Even more amazing, the top two “knuckles” of the fist had flattened slightly, deformed to the sides. “That’s solid iron,” Geoff said, mouth gaping. He turned back to Hugh. Some soldiers were helping him to his feet – he was so heavy it took three to a side and one in back, and they braced their legs jointly against him like buttresses until he steadied himself. He kept jerking his head, the death-knell of the fist still ringing. Geoff kept waving his fingers in front of Hugh’s eyes but the boy batted them gently away and said, in a firm voice I hadn’t heard him use before, “I’m done with having things run into me for a couple of days.” “The trebuchet is next,” Geoff said worriedly. “Shall I--” Hugh shook his head again with a sly grin. “I have different plans for it.” Geoff stepped back, momentarily alarmed by the forthright assurance Hugh now assumed. He walked around in circles, stretching and massaging his crimson chest. I pined to do it for him … and would have done, in front of everyone, had my master not sent me on an errand. His order felt like a dagger in my stomach. I ran quickly, gave a dispatch to a courier, and by the time I got back, the battered-ram had been trundled away and the trebuchet wheeled forward. Two men on each side grunted as they turned the wheels that ran the tackle and slowly raised the mass of iron-bound oak blocks into the air. Hugh wasted no time. “What are we going to do to this?” Conan asked eagerly. “You’ll see,” Hugh answered arrogantly - which seemed to excite Conan rather than offend him. Conan stepped back as Hugh walked behind it, put one foot on the arm resting on the ground, and signaled the drop. The weight crashed to the platform and Hugh roared like a bear as he bore down with his foot. A legging seam burst open, exposing a bovine thigh – and the pivot rod cracked. The entire beam smashed through the machine with an explosion of splinters. Hugh picked up the end and wrested it free, jostling and battering the entire machine. He placed the end of the arm across his shoulders behind his neck and, draping his outside arm over the top, raised the entire thing up parallel to the ground. Then he wrapped his other arm over it . . . snorted like a bull . . . and pulled. His back opened wide like angel wings, his stomach muscles meshed like the gears of the apparatus itself, and his arms filled every space with their compressed, pulsing meat. We heard him breathing heavily in the silence. Hugh’s face contorted in angry concentration, and his elbows dipped. The short length behind his neck actually bent, issuing a CREEEAAAK SNIK-SNIK-SNIK SNIK SNIK FRACCCKK! The heavy bar split open like a monster’s toothy maw. His outside arm pulled and then twisted the broken as Hugh broken bole until it tore away. He pulled more of the bar across his implacable back. One deep breath and again his face strained, pitting the obdurate ridges of his vein-studded neck. His arms too snaked with blue veins nearly tearing through his buttery red-splotched skin. The solid oak held out as long as it could until Hugh’s arms compelled it to shiver, quake and surrender. He kept going, snapping the bar into pieces without rest, his breathing hoarse, his tender boy’s face a mask of resolute destruction. By the time he fractured the last bit, his grimace bore a terrifying resemblance to some fairy-tale demon. Slivers and chips of wood dusted his hair and body from oak exploding under unbearable pressure. Beside him, a stack of logs ready for the fire. “Magnificent!” Conan declared, unable or unwilling to stop the gushing females who pawed his dauntless, bloated arms and reverently dusted splinters from the many crevices in his back and lodged in his hair. I got a tingling sensation in my groin that he’d tear the engine apart with his bare hands with so much admiration – and indeed, he jumped onto the counter-weight and, clinging to a cross-bar with his toes, grabbed an iron strap in each hand and pulled. The iron bent up a bit but stopped. Hugh jerked them hard and broke them free, happily bending them up and back. He dropped to the ground, dragging the tortured iron with him. Then, inspired, he dragged the freed lengths toward each other and began wrapping them around each other in a giant knot. Then he yanked two fresh sections loose, working the cold metal like it was toughened leather. Showing off, he held an arm rigid and folded the metal back over itself by simply turning his wrist, zig-zagging in with tight switchbacks. At the same time, his other arm rippled as it twisted the flat iron into a spiral. Conan coughed loudly and Hugh turned, glowing in the sun and gleaming with sweat. He had saved the most trying test for last. Hugh slugged down goblets of water and gnawed on some fragrant apples, which mixed a sweetness into his rapturous he-sweat as secretions from different body areas ran and mingling together. “In war, we have not time to rest, no time for refreshment,” Conan declared. “When our enemies lay siege to our cities and hurl boulders into our walls and through our houses, how shall we respond? I want to crush them – literally.” He turned to Hugh, his bony arm outstretched toward the sacred grove. “These standing stones have weathered every winter, every storm, since time immemorial. Centuries of raging wars have neither injured nor moved them. Some say they were planted in the time before men, by Titans or Giants. Some say only Druid magic could have raised and sunk them into the fields where they mystify us to this day. Surely no mortal men could have moved such behemoths. “Young Hugh, your task is to do what neither man nor nature has ever done before you. Uproot one of those ancient monuments so it may be used to smash our enemies and their war machines. You may choose your victim – but your choice will be noted.” Conan led the way; a crowd of men tried to raise and carry Hugh on their shoulders, but the ponderous hulk proved impossible to lift and manage, so they simply surged around him like a pack of hunting dogs. Hugh scooped up the nearest two damsels and carried them like bouquets of flowers in the crook of each arm. Their dainty hands tried to squeeze the unyielding marble of those arms, twisting their hips as they did so. None of our stones are as big as the ones up north, but the field still looks strikes me as a giants’ graveyard. Hugh naturally went to the largest one, shoulder-height but a little wider than he. I wondered which weighed more, and nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity – an absurdity only to someone who had never met Hugh. While Hugh walked around the stone, inspecting clefts and lichen, Conan whispered to Houel, “even if he can only loosen it, we should be able to pull it free with a team of oxen. And he could easily build a gigantic trebuchet to launch these stones. Perhaps even a conveyance to move to them.” I shuddered. Hugh carried the focused, appraising air of a land agent, factoring dimensions, materials and weights that hobbled the imagination. Without ceremony, he dug his feet in and fell upon the weathered stone, oppressing it with focused forces beyond anything nature herself could muster. After so many efforts, Hugh drew from a deep well of virility that seemed never to run dry. The crowd tensed along with him as we waited for the monolith to give. No one doubted it could outlast the onslaught of Hugh. Never relenting the pressure he built up, Hugh managed to slip his hands, his shoulders, his legs into different positions, seeking a stronger purchase, groping with his senses toward the spot already growing weak under his duress. Worrying the monument from every angle, wearing out its grip on the earth, Hugh bullied the half-buried boulder until he found the place where Creation would buckle beneath his will A breeze ruffled through the grass … but when it passed, the grass still shivered. “Look!” I pointed. As every eye turned away from the hero and toward the ground, it humped and split. The stone listed slightly into the breach and several people fainted along with it. Hugh didn’t let up but churched the ground behind him plowing into the monolith. A hump broke upward between his legs as Hugh silently commanded the monument to lie prostrate before him. Conan choked as the yawning field disgorged waves of loam displaced by the foot of the stone being impelled up into the light. Hugh stepped back for the first time, shaking his throbbing limbs so the muscles tossed back and forth like small animals. He spent a few seconds catching his breath, and the swung himself under the leaning side, grappled for a hold, and pulled with a heavy grunt. The earth vomited in distress as Hugh dragged the stone towards the level and mashed its face toward his feet. The menhir listed drunkenly now but something deep intruded on his progress and held the stone. Hugh vigorously tugged and wiggled the tonnage, breaking the obstruction and relinquishing its hold on the monolith once again. Hugh’s arms engorged in undulating ridges, spurs and peaks. His shoulders bulged nearly as big as his head, their carved fingers digging like claws onto his arms and back. His concave belly shifted right and left, directing dominance from his legs into his arms and rippling around his frame like wind-blown sheaves of wheat. Finally, with one crippling shove, Hugh wrenched the monolith free of the earth, crammed its face into the dirt as the entombed end blasted through in an eruption of soil and small rocks. When I shook the grit out of my eyes, I could barely believe what I saw – nearly as much had been buried as stuck up from the earth. It was twice as big as it had looked, the unearthed portion was dark and wet, with clumps of mud sticking to it like the lichen huddled all over the exposed half. Nearly twice as big as Hugh, it seemed impossible to move it any further, except – maybe – to roll it down a hill (were the ground not flat). Wasting no time, Hugh walked around the far side, knelt and reached one arm over the width of the fallen warrior of time. With a HUP and a HRRRGGGGHH, Hugh leaned backward, bending like a bow. His stomach clenched in sharp relief and long rods rippled in his extended forearm. The rock rose a few centimeters but then fell back into the turf. Undeterred, Hugh nearly bounced it back up into the air – but this time, the side closest to him slipped and fell. The fact that he could lift it at all froze everyone in a tableau of wonder. He wrapped his rock-strewn arms around it and pulled, his neck bulging and face purple, but only managed to lever it off the ground and shift it sideways a bit, farther away from its empty grave. He reached underneath and drove his legs down as he raised the end as far as his knees, kneading the ground to press an advantage – but again the weight proved too much, and he had to drop it. He called for water and wide-eyed, trembling girls brought him several bowls, along with fruit and a hunk of roasted beef. He gorged himself, allowing the girls to lick the grease off his fingers. He rubbed them against the surface of the stone, peeling off layer of flint and coating them with dust. He walked around to the middle and tried to raise it laterally – it hinged up half a metre or more before it slipped free. Hugh’s face clouded with annoyance and I feared his angry fist might turn it into more manageable pieces – but he redirected his impatience into his arms. Reaching one arm over the top, he grunted and craned it a metre into the air – several people experienced spasms of a certain kind – and held it teetering while he tried to shift the weight for the next stage. But the tonnage resisted his power and bobbed toward the earth. With a strangled scream, Hugh stopped it for a moment – held it – but had to let it go. Setting his feet farther apart, he heaved yet again, grappled the monolith higher, his lower arm bursting its skin as it braced the burden, dragged his shoulders back and, staggering once, wrestled it onto thighs – where it balanced, its immensity sinking him into the soil. Hugh took three breaths, rocking back and forth with each one, then leaned further back and levitated the stone onto his chest, tottering around as the menhir fought his dominance. He sidled to a halt and paused a moment, dwarfing mass trapped by his inexorable arms. His face screwed tight with strain, Hugh pressed the under arm up, its sinews bunching and trembling, while the arm over the top actually flipped the rock over – a move that almost went wrong, had his legs not danced and buttressed him to stop it. Then his legs began to shake violently and he sank beneath the stone which pressed against his face. The crowd burst with burbling concern that he might be smashed under the giant rock, his hubris leading to a predictable end – and I was afraid if it brought him to his knees, he’d but unable to continue. But … it didn’t. He didn’t kneel. He waddled toward stonier ground, looking like an ant carrying not a crumb but the entire loaf. Hugh’s knees began knocking as he fought to stand, the perfect globes of his ass quivering in time – but he worked his hands around to the underside even as he fought to discipline his rebelling limbs. Taking advantage of what inertia he’d created, Hugh wasted no time resting but pressed the rock above him – his body near parallel to the ground. Barking ferocious groans I could feel in my breastbone, he manipulated the granite giant up as he straightened his back and fought mightily against his own shaking arms. With hoarse, whistling war-cry, the god-man-boy straightened up and pressed the menhir up until his elbows locked and framed his terrible visage. He continued bellowing as he trapped the stone mountain in the air above him, mocking its desire to reunite with the earth. He lurched several steps before stopping at the end of the softer ground and sought Conan – rooting the Duke to the spot with his eyes. He stayed that way until Conan buckled at his hips and dropped his mouth in something like awe. With a snarl, Hugh then let it drop behind him and flexed his bloated arms until the cramping made him shake them out. Once more the crowd poured over him, massaging and rubbing him – a crush Hugh might not have been able to sustain had not circumstances turned against us. His sweet odor took on a pungeant manly stink, which the air caught and carried back into the forest. Before long, a grisly roar answered Hugh’s call from the forest. My master said to Geoff, “I thought you said Hugh had scared off all the predatory animals.” “He has,” Geoff replied. “There must be a migration.” “Bears don’t migrate,” Alain said, “And that was a very angry bear. Again, a mere whiff of Hugh’s scent has driven some beast to fury.” We got a first glimpse of the foaming, shambling beast, and Geoff said with restrained panic, “Not fury, but madness,” Geoff concluded. “That bear is mad. Its bite is deadly – even a scratch can afflict a man with madness.” People stampeded for the city walls once the bear blundered sideways out of the grove and shook deadly froth from its drooling maw. Despite being clearly spent, Hugh immediately strode to face the monster – and we all felt riveted by the same thoughts – if he were too exhausted, Hugh would be no match for the bear – killed or, worse, infected. A rabid Hugh could lay waste to the entire county. The afflicted are routinely strangled before the madness takes hold, but who, or what, could constrict Hugh’s throat? The archers ran back to the castle to fetch weapons but Hugh advanced alone. “No! Hugh, I forbid it!” Geoff ordered, but Hugh responded only to a higher calling, his fatigue replaced by renewed vigor. He ripped the shredded remains of his leggings and codpiece and tore away even his undercloth, one naked beast facing another. Women tried to turn away and close their eyes, but they had lost the will to resist the sight of Hugh's golden glory. Palming two large stones, he bounced their weight – likely as much as a strong man could struggle up to his chest – and then hurled first one, then the other, in quick succession, his arms like trebuchets – only more powerful. The bear fell, struck on the head and shoulder … but rose up on two legs, now truly angry. Slinging ropes of poisonous slobber across the field, it roared and fell clumsily to all fours, lighting into a lopsided charge on legs it seemed unable to fully control. As if it were under the spell of a sorcerer’s apprentice. Hugh ranged from side to side but the bear turned and faced him, always advancing. The hero crouched on titanic legs and launched himself into the air, rising for several metres and sailing over the bear like a bird of prey. The animal stood and swatted at him but Hugh flew too far and too fast, causing the unsteady creature to fall onto its back. As it struggled back to its feet, it turned so Hugh could leap and plant himself like a spear onto its vast shaggy back. Hugh tried to wrap his arms around the giant’s chest but could barely reach – his fingers touched but couldn’t grip. The bear roared and shook violently, but Hugh’s fingers pierced the dense fur and his legs clamped over its waist. Then Hugh shook back. Savagely throwing his body from side to side, Hugh forced the bear to stumble sideways several paces before it plant its claws and hold onto the ground. He shook the bear again but it lowered itself to the ground – so Hugh threw his shoulders back with a strained grimace. And overcoming the bear’s fury, bent its spine back and its forelegs off the ground. Hugh cinched his arms and legs – the bear bellowed in pain and confusion, outmuscled by something small yet heavy and brutally irresistible. Hugh shook the bear again until its head wove back and forth, and then he arched his back and slammed that head into the ground. A look appeared in the bear’s crazed eyes – a moment of clarity, a primitive instinct for escape. The beast fought against Hugh’s strength with the renewed energies of something now fighting for its life. As Hugh’s shoulders tensed, prying the bear’s up again, it fought him, bucking and shaking, matching him strength for strength. Feeling the iron spine defy him, Hugh squeezed until the bear screamed. Every move Hugh made in directing the bear one way, the bear countered, twisting and scratching the other way. Hugh’s face contorted as his arms labored against the sturdy ribs, his fingers grappling for a link. The bear writhed violently but Hugh closed his eyes and with a hissing sound, linked his middle fingers. The beast wore stark fear on its face, its chest compressed, its hips being wrench by the horrible contortions of Hugh’s legs. I held my breath – I couldn’t tell what Hugh was trying to do, besides hang on. Slowly, by pitching his back fiercely, Hugh guided the bear to the stone he had just conquered. His eyes sharpened frightfully, and with his teeth bared and an almost-evil smile, he arched his back again and clumped the bear forward with his own indomitable torso. With claws clutching helplessly at the soil, the bear realized – as much as it could – it was losing. When Hugh coerced his captive abreast of his trophy, he flexed his entire body, lifting the bear off the ground and slamming it back down. He did it again, and again, each time gaining a greater bounce until with clenched grunt, Hugh actually flipped himself onto his back on the stone’s surface, the quarter-tonne bulk pronged above him. The animal’s legs waved in the air but Hugh’s back spread out beneath him, bracing against each terrorized thrust of the mindless brute. The boy-man had even crushed its roar down to a steady wheezing moan frothed out with its spittle. Hugh’s legs trapped the bear’s hind limbs and pulled them out and away, immobilizing them. He arched up onto his shoulders and bent that iron spine – and squeezed. Hugh shook the bear to the left and clamped his hands more tightly to its chest. He jarred it to the right and a sickening pop came out of the bear’s lower quarters. The wheeze now carried a bone-chilling whine of fear. Hugh tensed ferociously trembling with impossible effort, bending the bear's steely ribs in on themselves. Hugh’s rising growls drowned out the animal’s eerie whistling. Now gripping his wrists, he shrank the bear’s chest further through barbaric will. His arms, buried deep in the fur, rubbed slightly back and forth: their knots, harder than bone, fractured ribs. He rattled the bear like a doll, draining the dregs of its vitality with relentless determination. Its swimming forelegs slowed, and slowed further, and then merely waved as if blown by the wind. Once the bear’s legs stopped moving (though still twitching), Hugh’s legs straightened out, further disjointing its hind legs and hips. The trapped victim emitted a thin, high wail, its tongue lolled out of its mouth, a harsh gurgling sound coming with it. Hugh could have finished the bear off right there, but something terrible had been ignited in the man-boy’s chest – and further below. Hugh rolled off the stone and plopped the weakened beast onto the ground. Arching his own back, Hugh brought his legs forward and clamped them against the stove-in ribs. Pulling the bear backward again and trapping its lower torso with his own, Hugh gyrated up, his ass dimpling and clenching, his manroot thrusting through the densely matted fur. It seemed to pulse with every sharp crack echoing through the circle. His eyes feverish, the shocking obscenity of the tableau held everyone in a merciless grip. Hugh wrangled his arms up, never releasing their unbearable pressures, hands reaching for the animal's head. Gripping the rocklike skull, Hugh's chest rose like twin peaks as he stopped the bear's thrashing. His hands crept down, his bulbous forearms immobilizing the bear's head. The entire crowd buzzed with tension that ratcheted higher as Hugh linked his hands underneath its head. With a grim frown, Hugh straightened back up, fighting the bear's final desperate spasms. With a final choking splutter, the bear’s head rose in Hugh's puissant grip, its long long neck tremoring. Stretching. Tearing. Hugh’s invincible lance jousted with the arched neck, his hips slowly digging up and down. But the bear's neck was too long - even with the skull pressed into the valley of his chest, the neck did not break. He'd either have to be work his way backwards ... or ... My knees gave way weakly as Hugh's sculpted arms sprouted veins along their extreme curves. Hugh pushed the head up in a harrowing repeat of his menhir feat. A thin shrill shriek bubbled out of the gaping maw, big eyes suddenly blank with a resignation more terrible than its death throes. Hugh's elbows inched up, his hands rising to stomach-curdling wet PWOPP sounds. Hugh stretched the neck unnaturally longer even as the bear's tongue seemed to crawl out of its throat. Blood sprayed from tears in the victim’s hide, the skin rending in garish jagged slashes. Hugh grimaced as he grappled the bear's body down – down and away. Hugh pushed his arms towards the sky with renewed gristle. Through the ragged flaps of skin, I could see thick cables of muscle stretching and then rolling up into tight knots. Soon I could see the white bones floating like beads on a broken chain washed in red. His virile member erupted, spewing ropes of viscous pearlescence through the hot fur and into the ragged wounds. His legs gripped the body firmly, riding it with bucking hips and plowing himself violently against the dying beast. Finally, with a triumphant bellow that shook the stones themselves, Hugh extended his arms all the way up and sheared the bear's head off its jerking, dying torso. The torn neck fountained blood, mired with Hugh's own jetting essence streaming up through the coat like grappling ropes. Hugh’s seed-fountain continued even as the blood slowly ebbed, soaking the coat in his milky pith. He shuddered, his naked muscles rippling and drumming fleetly beneath his papery white skin, and making a final grunting cry, Hugh stubbed himself out in eye-flickering bliss. Hugh paused a moment, chest heaving with deep satisfaction, until the echoing pleasures slowly Faded. Shaking sense and awareness back into his golden-curled, blood and semen-caked head, carried the still-lethal skull, dripping blood and froth of Hugh, to the gaping pit that once housed a menhir, and dropped it in. He went back to the corpse, grabbed a loose hind-leg, and pulled it over to the grave, kicking it in. Then, in desperation or derision, I couldn’t tell, Hugh tugged the stone, bit by exhausted bit, until its immeasurable tonnes covered the tomb. Hugh turned and raised his fists over his head, his heavy arms bent and throbbing like the empurpled mast rising above his navel, shaking its own glistening fist. But only briefly - he sank down, hands on his knees his shoulders sinking and his back sagging. Then he was lost as cheering soldiers surrounded him and, in a joint effort, raised him to his feet and half-carried him away from the slung saliva and gore, to a grassy rise shaded by the setting sun. The women broke through the soldiers with kettles and bowls of cool and steaming water, shouldering them away like an invading army. Over their heads I heard him mutter “meat,” and platters passed hand to hand from the high table directly to him. Sating himself, he fell into a deep slumber, oblivious of the hands massaging oils into his muscles. Soon the jealous guards rallied and drove the women away, circling him and facing out to keep so many hungry eyes and hands at bay. Geoff had excused Hugh from the rest of his chores that afternoon, so after I finished mine and got something to eat, I returned to his pallet. He was fast asleep on his back, lying flat on his back with only a modest cloth around his loins. The air near him shimmered torridly, and sweat beaded on my forehead and under my arms. I quickly doffed my togs and draped myself over his mounded form. He stirred slightly, his barrel chest rising, but otherwise I may as well have been a light blanket. Arousal chases my fatigue away, and take advantage of last night’s offer and stretch my limbs, pressing my body against his muscles – firm yet pliable at rest, their density defied my penetrating fingers, but I could press and caress them, trace the expansive flesh as it narrows and gathers into steely tendons. His blood pulsed slowly through them, perfectly balancing his other humors and restoring his incalculable vitality. My own loin covering stirred as I rubbed against the serpent sleeping between the pillows of its generative nest. The serpent rose slightly, stirring waves through Hugh’s body which undulated and stretched in sleep. His mouth pursed and opened slightly and, overcome with desire, I gripped his upper arms and slid myself up onto his chest. My own member lay erect in the alley that ran down the center of his cobbled abdomen – it fit perfectly, caressed and massaged as those muscles rose and fell as he breathed. From the barrel-crest of his chest, I reached down and placed a daring kiss on his thick, languid lips. Still asleep, his mouth accepted mine, rubbing against my lips. I nuzzled the down around his chin and let my tongue slip out, seeking his. His tongue also sought mine and they caressed one another and explored each other’s hot, wet den. My own drool flowed strongly, lubricating our fun, and a distant, dreamy smile invited me to display greater passion. I sucked his lips and licked his teeth, and when I felt his hands land lightly on my ass, I shuddered in anticipation and a little fear: if he rolled over and didn’t wake up, could I support his weight or would I be crushed or suffocated by Hugh’s ponderous magnitude? I stretched my arms over his and wrapped my legs over his thighs, encouraging him to stay put but offering my nether orifice for his rising python. He gripped me tighter, so tightly I winced and bit his lip by mistake – his eyes opened drowsily and for a moment, we gazed at each other with his hands clasping hindside. Just then a sharp laugh startled us both (and several of the horses). Hugh raised his head as I turned and saw a buxom young maid with a startled look on her face. “You boys are incorrigible!” she said a little loudly. Hugh rose up on his elbows and sloughed me off to the side, where I adjusted my loin cloth and blazed bright red. She paid me no mind. “All rested, hero?” she said saucily, tugging coyly at the lace that held her bodice together. “How would you like a real woman to satisfy you. I promise it’ll be better than some smelly bear.” She spread her knees and pressed a palm into her skirt with an open mouth. Heat kindled in Hugh’s eyes and his groin snake bobbed up through the folds of his cloth. She walked backward toward a stack of hay bales in the shadows. Forgetting me, Hugh rose – like a mountain growing before my eyes, or a dragon taking off from its lair, his body simply kept going and going and going until he was up and around the corner. But Hugh stopped short, looking uncertain. “Come on,” she cooed. “No one will care. You’re a man now. You do what you want.” Hugh fidgeted against the cloth restraint binding his eagerness. “My master said I would grow weak if I did it. I don’t even, you know, do myself. Not as often as other boys.” “You’re no boy, and no man is your master,” she chided. “Not even the king can rival you. Besides, we all saw what you did to that bear. Are you weak now?” She threw a horseshoe, which he caught. Spreading the fingers of that one hand around the prongs but not taking his eyes off her, Hugh squeezed – and crushed the metal shoe as if it were clay, until it snapped in two. Yet he didn’t let it go – gathering both parts into his palm, he folded them in half – both at the same time – until the outmatched steel could bend no further and broke again. His clenched the pieces in his fist and mashed it again, his forearm filling with rocks that scrubbed against each other. A metallic tinkling seeped out between his white-knuckled fingers. When he opened his fist, shattered fragments of steel rained to the floor, unidentifiable as having ever been a forged horse shoe. “Guess not,” he replied with sheepish excitement. The maid had watched wide-eyed, bosom heaving and mouth opening and semi-closing in excitement of her own. Though she massaged both her breasts and released them, she stiffened and shivered as if fulfillment had ignited without any external stimulation. Her eyes hooded with breathless hunger. “Then, what are you waiting for?” she half-dared, half-begged him huskily. That was it. His loin cloth ripped around his vibrant erection has he flung it away and pulled her to him, immediately entering her. She gasped as his girth stretched her open more than ever before, but he didn’t rush to the finish line. Hugh’s natural instinct for lovemaking took over – building, teasing, pulling back, slowing down then racing, all the while withholding his essence. His manfunk wafted through the stable with a delirious mixture of wild musk and protective warmth. Her eyes rolled up into her head – however vigorously he slid in and out, he was gentler, more controlled – stronger – than any man she’d been with. And … he made her wetter than ever before. Mixed with the leakage from his powerful organ, they slid against each other like eels. She clutched at the hay behind her, her nipples like craters as another pleasure wave washed through her. Again, instinctively, Hugh let her subside and then whipped her up until the storm broke in her several times before he unleashed his own deluge. Hugh’s arm shot out and grabbed a shovel, the blade warping in his grip. He shot into her with such force she instantly came again, biting her lip to stay quiet. His ass dimpled and writhed for so long I realized I would get no sleep tonight – perhaps never again. My own midsection rocked as I spurted in envious sympathy. I massaged myself dry with my under cloth and was about to return to the pallet, when I saw it – he wasn’t pulling out. He was clearly still turgid. Still filling her. Still thrusting. She smiled hungrily, grabbing his ass and pulling herself against him. He slammed into her hard this time, again and again, jiggling her breasts and body, shattering her composure and driving her to wild abandon. She thrashed and ground herself against in rhythm against him, whipping her loosened hair from side to side and moaning gutterally like a cow in calving. In full control and awareness of their danger, Hugh smoothly grabbed a leather work glove and gently shoved it into her mouth. She chewed it like it was dinner. He came again, dimpling longer than before but sluicing in and out and spilling long tendrils of cock drool. I stayed crouching, hardening again and barely aware of the pain. And as I suspected, he didn’t quit. More like he was still getting warmed up. But the maid began to flag, endless pleasure addling her brain. She shuddered periodically, ranging between an empty smile and a tense incomprehension that only Hugh’s persistence could dismiss. Her sopping hair lay lank over her shoulders, her breathing hitching from his power and then siking into a heavy, coarse wheeze. He came a fourth time and she moaned in mindless pleasure and pain. His seed spurted down and ricocheted off his pendulous ball sac … as if she were full. For the first time, he pulled out completely, his knob painted her belly and breasts with his man-lime. A steady stream ran down her legs slowly, like freshly-rendered glue. His sword waved challengingly, throbbing with purple ardor. His exhales came fast and heavy and his red eyes burned with feverish intensity. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do but then, face enlivening, he lifted her into the air, spun her around and did what I had so longed for: took her bunghole like a rutting beast. The pain shocked her awake and she screamed into the glove. Her torso impulsively clenched around him but hadn’t the strength to expel the invader. Sliding her up and down on his breed shaft with one hand, he pulled out the glove stuck his fingers in her mouth, attacking her defenses on two fronts. Her panic retreated and as they joined into a single oscillating being, his body commanded hers to banish pain and feed greedily on pleasure alone. Obediently, her body obeyed and her tension fell away like the tattered remnants of her clothing. He bobbed her up and down endlessly before clenching his ass and releasing another eruption of manly lava. Feeling his own control fight for command against greedy, voluptuous gluttony, he wrapped one arm around a stud and squeezed. His arm crunched into the wood – splinters broke out around it. He squeezed pitilessly as the ecstasy of another tidal wave rolled out of him and utterly submerged her. Solid oak creaked and split loudly. Finally he eased down, left the poor oak post alone, and rested his back against a high stack of hay, holding her up with one hand and simply staying still. But staying within her. Not softening. Not at all. The crippled beam groaned as the weight of the roof shifted into its weakness. The groaning excited Hugh and he slowly began plumbing her for a sixth time. Something broke in my mind – a relaxation, an acceptance of such unbelievable strength and stamina. A kind of faith moved my heart that I never felt at mass. My body responded by releasing another white libation, globs of it billowing forth before the ecstacy could catch up – it rushed in late and quaked me to my soul, submitting my life to this thundering, earth-shaking deity before me. Hugh focused intently on her, careful not to bruise or injure her as he ground her back and forth in semi-circles. Her limbs flopped randomly, their motions aimless and simply sparking off stray bolts of joy her weaker frame could not contain. She shuddered again as another convulsion gripped her, and her seizure gripped him and undammed yet another flood of his virility into her guts. Not only the stream down her legs increase, now from two willsprings within her, but her belly began to bloat. Hugh looked as though this premature release – stimulated by her and not commanded by him – had cheated him. He stayed in and bucked her a little roughly, making her jaw chatter loosely, until he pasted her insides a seventh time. Ignoring how her rib cage expanded in his grip, Hugh plunged deeper with an urgency he hadn’t shown before. His bull-balls slapped the back of her ass as he chased the shimmering bliss he caught so easily again and again. His back stiffened and spread apart and the overflow of another cascade splattered his nutsack and thighs. Her eyes opened with bemused surprise as she belched and … smelled Hugh in it. The maid passed out completely and slumped on him, twitching and jerking like a dreaming dog. His face glowing with greed for a vein of gold that ran deeper and deeper into the mountain, he kept excavating for it. A series of short hard rams made her burp his salty musk, made her breasts flop along with her arms and nodding head. The hammering sped faster and faster until his cheeks became a blur. Then suddenly he stopped and mashed her down as if he were trying to snap his manhood off. But that prong stood up to him defiantly and rebuffed his efforts. Within the frenzy of his ninth fusillade, a heavenly smile pierced his face like a sunbeam after a storm eliciting a heavenly smile to spread across his face. The sun banished the storm and he slowed down to a steady strum. Pinning her against a wall of hay with only his horn of plenty, he put his hands on his hips and wiggled them, watching her bob like a puppet. Hugh didn’t like her leaving him alone like that - so he leaned forward, placing one fist on either side of the hay beside, and supported her with It while staring intently into her face. His presence penetrated her dazed mind and dragged her back to consciousness – while he stayed still, spreading and pulsing with her, her own grinding movement down below betrayed her return to paradise. He began slow rotations, lazy figure eights that hardened him until his balls hitched. Then, again, he became … perfectly … still…. But she shook with warring tensions and seized with unhinged rapture. He grinned with masterly hauteur and withheld himself until she scratched violently at him and seemed she’d shake herself apart if he did not feed her. Still he waited until her panting desperation opened her eyes – he locked them to his – and she seemed to wither and bloom at the same time within his gaze, her mind turning inside out beneath the fullness of his revelation. Still he waited. Still he grinned. Finally, drool spilled in rivulets out of her mouth, followed by a plaintive mewling bordering on despair. He nodded, slowly, over and over as he felt her identity disintegrate – and then he released the hounds of war. Her chest inflated from the inside, a strangled cry of incredulous surrender rose from her gaping mouth, and her breath, redolent of his salt, filled the air and made the horses rustle and neigh. His own fecund odor returning to him from inside her kept his demonic prick sharp as he tunneled even deeper into the mountain for that skein of gold. His muscles flinched - he had ridden himself raw – and now every motion exploded in his brain. A mere normal man would pull away, flee, his brain melting. But Hugh was made better. He carried her gingerly to a worktable, sweeping clean its surface with his arm, and laid her down. He stood upright so that the pressure bore down on his virility, and though it bounced her up a little, it soon settled down. Standing there, hands on his hips, his massive chest rising and sinking like storm billows on the open see, he defied every extreme sensation – he refused to withdraw, he would not pass out. Hugh willed every impulse into submission, and wrung the savor out of each moment. They could not gang up on him. They could not overcome his control. His chest rolled triumphantly as he disciplined his own rebellious passions and directed them to serve him one more time. The lightning from this battle shot into her. She twitched wildly, arms and legs spasming and battering his ram inside her. He conducted the unbearable pleasures until he chose to let them go. Throwing his head back, he barked and howled, reached up and grabbed a roof joist: and each time her leg kicked or her hand flicked, his fingers sank deeper into the splintering oak. He swayed there, his head shaking slowly back and forth and veins pounding in his neck. With a moan of pure satisfaction, his shoulders twitched and his hips swiped her back and forth across the table. He froze and braced his legs and ass. An eleventh milking surged into the maid. Her body swelled, her neck fattened – and his puissance gushed out of her moaning mouth in driving bursts. My body wrenched a third helpless time together with gripping alarm. I felt immobilized but somehow I shouted, “Sir!” as his seed trickled out of her nose and not only from her ears, but also her eyes, like pearly tears. Hugh’s eyes whipped open and he turned and glared in mad fury. I fell back, my cock now heaving drily, and mustered all my courage. “She needs a doctor!” He looked back and for the first time saw the swollen main, his viscous ichor still seeping from her head. He pulled out suddenly and a bucket’s worth of slime whooshed out and all over his legs. He lifted her in one arm and, with the other, battered a hole in the side of the stable. He ran into the village, naked and not only erect but still foaming like … like a mad bear. He woke the doctor by breaking his door in half. The doctor clutched his blanket in terror, then saw the girl and jumped up so Hugh could place her on the bed. Though he was no longer in her, the overflow continued to leak out, spreading slowly over her body. All the time, though her eyes fluttered pure white, the smile never left her lips. The doctor pushed gently on her belly and semen oozed from several openings at both ends. He turned around and, seeing Hugh’s still-drooling plowshare, started in amazement before recovering himself. “Young man, I’ll take it from here.” Tears stained Hugh’s beautiful features. “I didn’t mean to … will she be all right?” “I’ve never seen anything like this,” the old man confessed. “So long as nothing inside her has burst, she should pull through. Though I doubt she’ll ever be the same. You should prepare yourself however: I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a father, several times over. Such prodigious … vigor … might likely plant a prodigy of seedlings in this young girl.” Turning away, he muttered again, “Like an Irish rabbit.” Hugh seemed stricken so I gripped his unyielding arm tight as I could. “Come, you should rest again. And I can’t carry you if you fall asleep stark naked in the street.” Hugh shuffled out and embarrassedly propped the shattered boards door back in the doorway. Overcome with a surge of relief or joy or something, he grabbed and lifted me high into the air, shook me wildly with an ecstatic grin on his face, and draped me over his shoulder like a potato sack. I could feel the slimy slap of his dick against my feet as he trotted down the moonlit street. My hands explored the battlements of his back under the guise of holding on: the central pennant-poles, the squarish berms of annealed flesh over each shoulder blade, and the ramparts that spread to either side. The feeling his shoulder rippling back and forth against my belly made me come again but, having nothing left, it hurt more than anything. I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Back in the stable reeking of fornication, he flung me onto his pallet and stared down proudly. “My friend!” he said, beaming, chest flaring. Then, treating me more like a pet than a friend, he lay down beside me, enclosed me with his irresistible arm-mass and tucked my face into the deep pit of foggy musk between his chest and back. He fell to sleep immediately but my heart raced like a hunting hound. His bushy hairs tickled my forehead and soon his peace encompassed me. I dreamed I was running beside him and wagging my tale forever and ever. THE END

Beach Slumming by Gideon Kalve Jarvis A Commission for the Seigneur de M. http://www.furaffinity.net/user/lechevalier/ *** Disclaimer: This is a furry story featuring anthromorphic characters. Vic the rat is one of my most favorite characters, a gruff, roughed and heavily muscled rat who is - in my eyes - best depicted by the characters of Oscar Martinez (Solo). He seems to be a wanderer, as he appears in many settings, and has no sexual preferences except being dominant. I hope you will like him as I do, and you dont might fantasy characters. *** She should be happy, Margot realized. Her life was one that others would kill to obtain, and yet it was one that she had been almost handed on a silver platter, with a silver spoon for her mouth. A gorgeous husband, a fabulous body, and money on both sides of their marriage. More than enough for them to spend their lives in carefree idleness, savoring the sweetness that life has to offer. And yet, something was missing. Something raw and real that Margot knew she had never before experienced, and if things continued as they were, never would. The sleek-muscled, peach-furred feline rolled onto her stomach on the beach blanket, resting her chin on her folded arms, her eyes covered by large dark glasses, her head by a sun hat, her body more-or-less covered by a thong bikini. It wasn‟t much use for keeping sand out of the crease between her firm buns, but it certainly made the males gawk. Lounging there on the beach in the hot Florida sun, Margot felt an itch start to steadily grow between her legs, thinking of the males she‟d seduced in the past, wearing outfits similar to this one, or sometimes even more scandalous. She and Andre, her husband, were hardly closed in their relationship. Of course they felt it only polite to let each other know when they were going to bring in somebody else to satisfy one of their many wealthy whims, but so long as they each abode by that single rule, Andre and Margot were free to take lovers as they wished, of either sex. It served to keep the fire in their relationship, preserving the two felines from settling into a boredom that would surely have spelled the beginning of the end for their relationship. This day, however, Margot‟s eyes moved casually over the beach, sighing in disappointment. The men, the women, they were all beautiful, sculpted, their bodies like those of the gods of Olympus. All her life she and Andre had been among such people, the privileged ones, the ones that were beautiful because it was their right to be so, born of the best genes and the greatest fortune, their lives often planned out long before their births. What she wanted was a taste of reality, raw and harsh. It was as these dark, forbidden thoughts that were filling Margot‟s mind as her eyes fell on the Rat. She had half-risen from her repose at a sound from somewhere behind her, lowering her dark glasses from her bright blue eyes, giving her long blonde hair a toss to get stray locks from her eyes, before she spotted the source of the disturbance. At the gates to the walled-off beach, the exclusive resort of the Hotel Marseilles at Miami Beach, arguing loudly with the guard stationed there, was a creature from a world as far removed from Margot‟s as Heaven was from Hell. He was shorter than her husband by a good head and shoulders, shorter than her by a full head, but his shoulders and chest were a great deal broader. In truth, his entire body was massive in ways that Margot had never thought were possible, an obscene mass of muscle bulging beneath the tight red-and-white-striped shirt and blue jeans he was wearing. She could see everything about him, could imagine what she couldn‟t see. At the sight of this ugly creature, this devil among the angels, this slum-dwelling rodent with his prize-fighter‟s hardened face, Margot felt her mouth grow suddenly dry. Almost against her will, she rose from where she‟d been lying and walked towards the gate. “You talk to Trey,” the Rat said in a harsh, deep voice that spoke of his French birth, though the accent was almost lost in what must have been long years spent in the midst of a rich global polyglot. “He cleared me to go in there. Besides, what‟s it matter? I just want to use the gym. Not gonna bother any of these high rollers on the beach.” That voice! It was everything that her husband‟s was not: rough, uncouth, a savage snarl like broken glass on asphalt. Margot felt her legs wobble, growing weak, the wetness between her legs increasing exponentially. This beast was an untamed remnant of more primitive times, and his raw savagery spoke to her darkest, most primal desires, parts of her that she‟d never even known existed in her perfect life. She couldn‟t speak, could hardly even more closer, but couldn‟t stop herself from continuing her walk forward despite all of her common sense screaming out that it was a mistake. “Look, Vic, we don‟t allow anybody who‟s not staying at the hotel in here,” said the guard, shaking his head as he stood to bar entry, the German Shepherd‟s expression firm, dutiful. “Even if Mister Trey did vouch for you, he certainly didn‟t clear it with me. If I let you in here, I could get in a whole lot of trouble.” “That dirty so-and-so!” snapped the Rat, Margot‟s mind mentally editing out the word he actually used with automatic precision. “Look, it‟s just a workout, mister. Can‟t we figure out some sort of an arrangement…?” “It‟s all right, Mark,” said Margot before she could stop herself, stepping forward to lightly brush her fingers over the shoulder of the tall canine. “This man, Vic, is with me.” The way she‟d said his name, „Vic,‟ had been a gentle rolling of the word over her tongue, as though tasting its flavor. And if a name could have a flavor, this one would be bitter, the same sort of bitter from the lime and salt of a margarita, a bite with a kick that went straight to your head. Mark, the guard, tipped his hat to the sleek peach-furred feline with raised eyebrows. “Um, well,” he looked back to the obscenely-muscled black rat, and then back to Margot. “I guess that‟ll be all right, Miss Margot,” he said finally, shrugging. “But he‟ll need to stay with you, all right?” “Of course, Mark,” said Margot, offering her hand to the hugely-muscled rat, feeling tiny in comparison to him despite her greater height. “We‟ll be just fine.” Vic hesitated for a moment, looking first at Mark suspiciously, as though expecting a trap. Seeing no deception from the stalwart, trustworthy guard, those same suspicious eyes fell on Margot. His hard brown-eyed gaze met her flashing green eyes with confusion as he seemed to be trying to puzzle her out, to discern her true motives behind such sudden and unexpected charity. This wasn‟t a person who was used to being given free help. This was somebody who was used to being used. The thought just made Margot smile a little wider: he would be used, all right. Just not in any way he might be afraid of. “Yeah,” the Rat said finally, his huge hand dwarfing the cat‟s as he closed it around her fingers in a grip that Margot sensed instantly could have crushed her like eggshells, but stopped at a commanding firmness instead, enough so that she couldn‟t have pulled away if she‟d wanted to. “Just fine.” Margot let the rat lead the way. It was obvious he‟d been into the private gym of the Hotel Marseilles, that hallowed shrine of the gods of beauty, wealth and leisure, many times before. She never went into the free weights room, of course, but that was exactly where the massive beast of a rat went, gripping her hand tightly enough that she couldn‟t get away easily, but not so much that he hurt her. This was a male that knew his own strength, knew his own body with the deepest intimacy. As they entered through the frosted glass doors of the gym, Margot glanced around, smiling as she saw how deserted it was at that time. Andre had carefully timed their visit to Miami so that they would hit good weather while avoiding the majority of the tourist crowd. He was always so skilled in his planning, the same skills that would have made him a good hunter in a more primitive time, and made him such a captain of business now. Such a good businessman was the handsome leopard, unfortunately, that he often left his poor, needy wife alone for far too long a time. Margot had deep desires and strong passions, and if they were not so open in their relationship their marriage would surely have shattered under the strain of her desperate needs… “You look like you‟re more used to aerobics and swimming than weights,” said Vic, interrupting Margot‟s thoughts as he walked towards a rack of weights and pulled several of the more massive circles of hard steel from their places. “You just like watching guys get hot and sweaty?” “Mmm,” replied Margot, biting her littlest finger as she broke contact with the obscenely muscled rat, and then walking forward, stroking her soft fingers over his powerful arm as he locked his choice of weights into place on a nearby suspended barbell. “I much prefer to get my exercise in more exciting ways. But having a strong male get hot and sweaty for me,” she licked her lips with lusty eagerness, “yes, that pleases me quite a bit.” “Hope I can help you there,” the rat answered with a smirk, before he hefted the metal bar onto his shoulders, a long row of heavy metal cylinders on each side, so many that the bar began to bend a little under their weight. Margot watched, dry mouthed, as Vic lowered himself almost to the floor with his first squat, and then rose back up. As the muscular male slid into the zone of working out, his eyes starting to grow fiery, tense, seeing things outside of what was right before him, the peach-furred feline slowly circled Vic, her eyes playing over his body, savoring the look of every curve, every angle, every hard bump and lump and part of this gorgeous grotesquerie. On his sixth squat, Margot couldn‟t contain herself as the scent of musky male his her nostrils, tickling the more primitive parts of her brain, and she stepped up behind Vic, her hands stroking around his chest, teasing the hard nipples beneath his tightly-stretched shirt, feeling them hard in the light chill of the aid-conditioned weight room. “So hard,” she murmured in his ear as Vic slowly bent for his seventh squat, the weight wavering slightly as his focus began to slip. “Mmm, and here as well.” Those hands teased over the front of Vic‟s pants, and he gave a deep grunt of surprise and exertion combined as he used that moment of energy to thrust himself straight up, and racked the weights with a clang. “Blood is what makes muscles grow strong, Margot,” he said as he turned, one massive hand gripping the slim cat‟s waist, pulling her against him as he grinned up at her. “But you are making my blood flow into other places.” Margot‟s mouth was dry, her eyes wide, as Vic pressed forward, pulling her against his body like a gorilla hefting a baby. She couldn‟t help but whimper softly as her almost naked back was pressed against the cool surface of the wall-width mirror weight lifters used to check their form, her legs splayed on either side of the aggressive, brutish male‟s hips as he forced himself against her, the heavy weight of his manhood rubbing against the clearly-visible cameltoe at the front of her achingly moist bikini thong. His huge hands slid down, gripping her firm buns, and her toes and back arched with her moan of desperate, needy pleasure. Was she in heat? She couldn‟t tell any more, and didn‟t care. She was so horny right then she felt like she was about to burst into flames at any moment. No time for foreplay, no desire for it. Margot needed this male. Needed him now! Her hands slipped into the little purse that she‟d carried over one shoulder, her only article of clothing aside from her now-discarded hat and shades, and still worn swimsuit. A condom! She needed to get a condom on this male before… “Merde,” she exclaimed as her hands peeled open the front of Vic‟s tented trousers, the rat helping her with one hand, easily holding her up with the other. He wasn‟t that long, really – not nearly as long as her husband‟s perfect penis. But he was thick, his shaft as heavily-muscled, it seemed, as the rest of the brutish body. This was the sort of club Margot could imagine being used by cavemen to subdue their brides. It was an ugly thing, hideous, covered in veins, grotesquely swollen. It would surely split her in half. She had to have it! Her hands were trembling so badly, Margot could barely managed to roll the condom down Vic‟s shaft. It fit, of course: it was one of her husband‟s, his greater length allowing for their differences in thickness. Or so Margot hoped, at least; the condom was badly stretched, looking like an overstuffed sausage casing around that obscene piece of male flesh. As she guided the monstrous head to her quivering, soaked little cunny, knowing she was far too small and tight for such a penis, she watched, wide-eyed, as the filmy sheath of latex bulged a bit more as the rat grew even more aroused, his musky, masculine scent intoxicating her, overwhelming her reason, even with the risk of pregnancy should that flimsy condom of her husband‟s not be able to take the pressure. Vic didn‟t wait any more, didn‟t give Margot another chance for second thoughts. He rested one hand on the mirror to support himself, gripping her hip firmly with the other, supporting her entire weight as he stood there in the midst of the heavy metal all around them, before his hips lunged forward, his meaty length skewering the tight-pussied feline as she barely had time to brush her bikini bottoms aside. Otherwise he would surely have ripped right through the fabric in his eagerness! Yowling like a banshee, Margot‟s claws raked Vic‟s back, shredding his shirt and leaving thin lines of blood on the naked fur beneath. Her legs thrashed on either side of the rat‟s hips as he began to pound her without mercy, heavy thumps filling the room as he rutted her savagely, like the brutish animal he was. The snap of the condom bursting inside of her was a mere footnote to Margot‟s pleasures, the knowledge that she was now taking this male bareback in an adulterous tryst only adding additional spice to the sensations that had blasted all her sanity, the latex ring at its base serving to add additional stimulation as Vic made sure to give her his full shaft on each long thrust. She felt his balls, so swollen, so huge, slap against her well-groomed rumpfur with each heavy jerk of his hips, and reached around, stroking and fondling their deliciously full weight in her hands. They felt so bloated, probably stuffed to the brim with the sperm that would make her cheating on her husband complete. Sealed with half-breed kittens. “Slutty pussycat,” Vic growled in his deep, dominant voice, his thick neck‟s veins standing out as he hunched himself against the squirming peach-furred feline, now holding her with both hands to ensure that all her squirming and thrashing wouldn‟t make her pop off his cock by accident. “Say it,” he commanded her, burying himself to the hilt in her once more, looking into her pleasure-dazed eyes, the pupils dilated as though she were high on drugs instead of sex. “Admit you‟re a slut.” “I‟m a slut,” Margot got out, shuddering with mighty spasms of her entire body. How long had she been cumming? She‟d lost track. Perhaps ever since Vic had first speared her on that magnificent cock of his… “I‟m a filthy, dirty, needy slut, and I need your cock so badly, Vic! Please, fill me with your cum!” She would have gone on, but Vic‟s lips pressed against her own, muffling the high-pitched wail that escaped her throat as his hips started to truly pound away, moving like a piston, like the rattling of a machine gun. He was like a machine, and engine of raw, primal lust! Margot couldn‟t resist him, didn‟t even try, as he claimed her, ravished her, used her up like she was nothing but his personal whore. And she loved every moment. And when the cat in heat felt the gush of Vic‟s cum spurting straight up into her unprotected pussy, her own pleasures peaked out beyond her endurance, her eyes rolling back into her head as she blacked out. Vaguely, Margot was aware of Vic carrying her, asking her for her hotel cardkey, taking it from her purse. She felt him drying them both off with a huge towel from the locker room, doing little to take off his musky scent, which covered both of them like a blanket of unabashed animal lust. She squirmed, whimpering with need as he wedged a thick finger into the cameltoe on the front of her bikini bottoms (now back in place, though only just barely), grinding it against her aching clitoris as he carried her to an elevator, and rode it all the way up. The pleasure-dazed feline was just coming back to herself as Vic nudged the door to her huge suite open with his knee, stepping inside and dropping her on the bed. It was the feeling of bouncing on the bed after being dropped that finally revived Margot to full consciousness, and with her awakening came a full rush of realizations. She‟d cheated on her husband, violating the one rule for all such illicit, extramarital encounters that they‟d set for each other: to let the other partner of the marriage know first. She‟d allowed this male to cum inside of her without even a condom to block the full gush of his virile sperm. And what a male she‟d chosen! Her eyes watched as the burly rodent took a swig of the champagne bottle she and Andre hadn‟t finished the night before, drinking it straight from the bottle. He was an uncouth lout, a brute, a thing of the lowest, most degraded orders! And yet, as he wiped his muzzle and looked at her with eyes that looked straight into her darkest, most hidden yearnings, she knew that she didn‟t regret what she‟d done, not really. And when he peeled off his claw-tattered shirt, then shoved his jeans unceremoniously to the floor, kicking then aside before striding towards the bed, his penis jutting forward like the prow of a battleship, Margot knew that she would let him do it again, as many times as he wanted. She was his slut now, just like she‟d said, nothing but a plaything to this primal beast, an instrument for his pleasure. He grabbed her just as Margot had started to sit up on the edge of the bed, and easily tore off her bikini top, making Margot squeal in surprise at this sudden brutality. Her side-tied bikini bottoms soon followed, and she squirmed as he grabbed one of her ankles, hoisting her leg into the air before his hips lanced forward, cock spearing her once more. This time she didn‟t even bother with the illusion of a condom; her womb was his to claim as he pleased, just like all of her body. How many times had he taken her? How many times could this rat cum? It had been hours at least, maybe days for all that Margot could tell. She still had the taste of his cum and her own juices on her lips after he‟d taken her muzzle, moaning in deep, masculine pleasure as he‟d rutted her mouth, watching her beautiful eyes looking up at him in adoration. The feline goddess was the slave of the rodent demon, and she served him willingly. And now she was clutching one of the pillows to her chest, screaming in a rough mixture of agony and ecstasy, her bottom hiked into the air as Vic shafted her too-tight tailhole, the tiny pink rosette of her rear passage now so widely stretched, Margot was certain she‟d burst at any moment. It was obscene, perverse, twisted…magnificent! She yowled again, even louder this time, as Vic‟s bloated balls slapped her gushing quim with each passionate thrust, the orgasm that claimed her then making her feel dirty, used, and yet craving still more of it. This brute was an addiction, and Margot was utterly hooked. So powerful was her passion and pleasure, in fact, that she didn‟t notice her husband standing there in the doorway of the bathroom, his towel and jaw dropped to the floor as he watched his wife being claimed so wickedly by another man. Beauty and the beast. That was the first thought that had come into Andre‟s mind as he watched his wife greedily take as much of that bloated length of cum-slick ratcock into her delicate muzzle. He‟d been taking a shower to wash off the worst of the smell of his own tryst earlier in the day, being sure that Margot knew where he‟d be, and for how long like the dutiful husband that he tried to be, despite their odd and open relationship. Its openness, in truth, was mostly for her benefit, for barring this vacation, Andre found himself far from living the life of the idle rich. He was gone too often, and his wife was in need of far more attentions than he could provide under such circumstances. His only rule was that he be informed of any liaisons that his wife might have, and he extended her the same courtesy. She had bedded many of his business partners, and several of the more handsome servants around their house, while he in turn had been free to enjoy the company of secretaries and coworkers, some of them other males, just as Margot occasionally indulged herself in the company of other females. But always, up until this point, they had remained true to that one rule, and kept each other informed, if only by a quick text message or simple call left on an answering machine. Now, however, Margot was cheating on Andre for the very first time, in full view of him as he‟d stepped out of the bathroom. He‟d watched her head bobbing on the obscenely bloated length of male flesh this brutish male sported, fury at first clouding everything into a haze of red. This passed quickly, however, after a single step into the room, as the full, obscene size of the black-furred monstrosity pummeling his wife‟s chin with his weighty balls came over Andre, sending a bolt of chill fear that sank into his guts, knowing that this creature, this rat, could likely break him over one knee without pausing in his thrusting motions. But then he‟d controlled his breathing, the tall, handsome leopard never one to lose control of his emotions. His self-control was why he had succeeded so well in business, and he pushed himself away from the murder that had flashed in his mind with an effort of will. However Andre hadn‟t counted on the danger that arose as he pushed fury away: lust could so easily take its place. That is exactly what happened, as Andre continued to stand there, watching the seemingly oblivious pair, letting his towel fall, forgotten to the plush carpet as the well-endowed rat‟s cock began to gush in his wife‟s muzzle, while she desperately tried to gulp it all down, her cheeks flushed, whiskers fanned wide in the height of her desperate lust. Andre felt his shaft rising to full attention, taking an involuntary step forward as Margot gave a short squeal as the rat seized her like a rag doll around her shoulders, and easily tossed her onto the bed. He was shorter than her, Andre realized, and quite a bit shorter than himself, and yet the obscenely-sized male had to be at least twice of Andre‟s leanly-muscled, sleek mass. Then, as Andre saw the brutish male pause only long enough to pour a dollop of suntan lotion onto his wife‟s rump and his hard shaft before plowing into her, claiming her anally with more vigor and primal savagery than Andre had ever felt in his life, the tall leopard felt himself forgiving his wife. This primal creature in their room, buried to the hilt in his wife, was like Hephaestus to Aphrodite, the grotesque god of the forge bound by passion to the incomparable goddess of love. She couldn‟t have resisted the lure of opposites, of raw, primal realism, any more than those gods of yore. “How is he?” Andre asked, walking to the side of the bed to get a better view, his pink tongue flicking out as he wetted his lips, his eyes wide as he observed the savage tryst taking place. “Andre!” exclaimed Margot, starting to rise up, her eyes wide in panic…only to be roughly shoved back into place by one of the rat‟s huge hands. “Vic, please…it‟s my husband,” she pleaded with the rat. But Vic only ignored her, giving a grunt to acknowledge her words, before his hips started to speed up, his nostrils flaring as he started to climb the final peak of his orgasm. The sleek leopard stepped up onto the bed behind his thrashing wife, her shock at realizing she was being watched by the very person she was cuckolding having unloosed her ability to stave off her passions any longer, leaving her writhing and yowling on the bed like a feral feline from the alleys. She was a raw, passionate creature herself now, stripped of all her veils of seduction and romance and beauty. Now she was composed of sex at its most basic, elemental form. All else was beyond her comprehension. Kneeling behind Vic, Andre rested his chin on the rat‟s shoulder, his hands reaching around, stroking over the broad, bare chest of the brutish creature. He was solidly formed, and Andre couldn‟t help but wet his lips again as his fingertips closed on the rat‟s hard, masculine nipples, squeezing them firmly. This was the last straw, and Vic cried out, his voice deep, powerful like the bellow of a bull as he began to gush even more cum into Margot‟s quivering body, his seed spurting out as it overflowed her anal depths, dripping down her rump and legs as she slumped forward, whimpering softly at the lovely ache left behind in her rump and well-stretched cunny. It was impossible for him to help himself! As Vic pulled back, his heavy, meaty length popping free of Margot with a gush of his cum, Andre ran his tongue over the neck of the other male, tasting his full-bodied, musky essence. The leopard wanted this male, and wanted him now. “It‟s only fair,” Andre said softly in Vic‟s ear, seductively, the same tone he used on that fresh-faced gazelle intern the week before he‟d gone on vacation with his wife, his hard shaft grinding against the hip of the rat, its long, beautiful pink shaft stroking through the bristly fur there. “You‟ve had my wife, after all. Now I should have you.” “Fair enough,” Vic answered, turning as he grinned right in Andre‟s face. “Hope you enjoy what you get.” Andre was just starting to grin, the toothy, triumphant grin of a predator that is about to finish off his prey, before, suddenly, Vic‟s huge arm lifted, wrapping around Andre‟s upper body, pulling him forward. His face was squeezed up against the musclebound side of the rat, his senses reeling at the thick, heady male musk. “S-stop,” the sleek-furred leopard gasped out, his eyes growing heavy-lidded. “Please, this isn‟t…” “You want this,” said Vic in response, his other hand guiding Andre‟s for a short while, before, in a daze, Andre began to stroke the rat‟s body, exploring every ridge and curve with his fingertips. “That‟s right. Touch me everywhere. No shame in admiring what I‟ve got to show. I‟ve worked hard on it so people can enjoy it.” Margot was just starting to crawl forward then, gradually coming around. She rose up, her eyes fluttering open just as she saw her husband rasping his pink tongue along the underside of the rat‟s armpit, his expression one of pure, sultry bliss, before his attentions slowly moved down the rat‟s arm, to his bicep. The peach-furred feline couldn‟t resist a smile at this display of submission, and crept forward on all-fours towards the two, reaching out her delicate hands to wrap them around the hard shafts of the two males kneeling on the bed near her, beginning to stroke them at a steady pace. Andre‟s familiar, beautiful penis was a weight she knew well, and enjoyed still, even after the feeling of Vic‟s bludgeon inside of her. The fingers of the hand stroking Vic, however, couldn‟t reach all the way around that meaty shaft. It was just too thick! She leaned forward, and kissed Vic‟s pectoral, flicking her tongue over his hard male nipple, visible through his dark fur as a point of smooth blackness, making the rat jerk slightly in mounting pleasure. Andre‟s tongue moved to follow suit, and soon Vic was leaning back on the bed, his hips thrust out as he panted, his eyes wide as he watched the two felines stroke and lick and nibble their way down his body, until their lips finally met at the tip of his full, throbbing cock, kissing each other with his plum-shaped glans right between their lips. This tongues flicked out, French kissing with passionate, desperate need, all the while lashing and lathering his cock with their affection for each other. His heavy hands reached down, gripping the firm, tight bottoms of the two felines, his fingers teasing against wet female slit and tightly-clenched male anal ring, squeezing firmly as he bucked his hips, giving a short, barbaric cry as he came once more, with those eager mouths, husband and wife, servicing his needy shaft. Andre had certainly fellated several males in his time. He‟d also enjoyed anal sex on several occasions. But only as the one on top, never as the one receiving. But at this moment, even with a thick finger penetrating his clenching, virginal tailhole, he hardly noticed, he was so caught up in the moment of shared, shivering pleasure as Vic climaxed, his seed jetting over the faces of Margot and Andre like the spray of a fountain. Then, suddenly, Andre came to himself, and started to rise, giving his head a startled shake, trying to pull away from Vic‟s invading fingers, especially as he was trying to add a second! But the rat simply reached out, his cock still hard even after his recent orgasms, and grabbed both of Andre‟s wrists in one mighty hand as the sleek leopard tried to get away. “You‟ll love this too,” Vic said with a laugh, before he twisted Andre around, pinning him to the bed with his firm, spotty rump thrust into the air – an easy target! “No…” Andre almost whimpered, struggling feebly in the grip of the more powerful male, knowing already that it was a hopeless struggle. “Please, I‟ve never…ah!” Vic had then reached over with his other hand, and pressed Margot‟s head down, her muzzle up against Andre‟s tailhole. She knew what was wanted, her pink tongue extending, teasing over her husband‟s tailhole, making the handsome leopard squirm and moan in pleasure as he was rimmed with such expert skill. His wife had never done this for him before, and yet she did so with the experience of someone who had practiced the art. It was another facet of his wife that Andre had never before suspected, and one that he felt now that he would have to explore further when the opportunity presented itself. As Margot‟s tongue moved down, rasping over Andre‟s white-furred balls, the leopardman suddenly tensed up as he felt the huge, swollen tip of that massive ratcock squeezed firmly against his virgin pucker. Despite himself, despite knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop this, and that he was probably going to love it, whether he wanted to or not, Andre couldn‟t suppress that whimper of fear. The rat was so huge, Andre was almost certain that it would kill him, splitting him open as it went in. “Your wife took it, and she‟s half your size back there,” sneered Vic, nudging his hips forward, the pressure steadily increasing against Andre‟s snug tailhole, slowly spreading him open. “Take it like a man.” The leopard started to open his mouth, so say something – anything! – to the bad black rat, but all that came out was a kittenish mewl as, suddenly, his tailhole gave way in its resistance, and Vic‟s massive cockhead popped inside. This soon turned into a slow, long, drawn-out yowl that began almost as a whisper, and gradually increased in volume until it was a banshee‟s wail as Vic‟s cock bumped past Andre‟s prostate, making the leopard‟s whole world start to spin in raw, naked pleasure. He‟d just been deflowered by this vile beast, his last virginity robbed from him by this untamed lump of gutter trash…and it felt good. It felt wonderful! Andre‟s shaft was rock-hard, great drops of precum forming at the tip to drop onto the soft sheets beneath him, and he hadn‟t even touched it. “That‟s it, slut,” Vic growled in Andre‟s ear. “But don‟t worry: it‟s only gay if our balls tou-whups.” He chuckled deeply as his hips pressed against Andre‟s spotty rump, his massive testicles clapping gently against those of the other male. Vic began to move his hips then, starting slowly at first, but soon starting to build up his pace. With his hands pinned behind his back, Vic using them as a handle to aid in his thrusting, Andre was completely at the mercy of the brutish caveman-like rat that was now starting to nail his pristine backside with full gusto. Each hard thrust slapped against Andre‟s rump lustily, making the leopard‟s cock bounce to smack against his taut belly, and the leopard knew he couldn‟t last long like this. An eager female moan caught Andre‟s ears, and he turned his head as Vic was starting to thrust in short, jabbing motions, his tempo speeding up a lot. The leopard gasped as he saw his wife riding the arm of the rat, who held it outstretched, flexing his oversized bicep up right into Margot‟s trembling, gushing cunny like a living, hot-blooded Sybian. She was grinding against the rat‟s muscular arm, pinching her nipples, twisting them in her fingers as she neared yet another orgasm, or perhaps was already in the midst of one, Andre couldn‟t tell anymore. Too much. It was too much! Screaming like a jungle cat, Andre gave in at last to the raw, savage feeling of the rat‟s pounding hips, his thrusting cock, that sense of being overwhelmed, dominated. He couldn‟t resist it any more, couldn‟t fight off the pleasure. His head slumping to the bed, cheek grinding against the sheets, Andre started to come, his cock pulsing over and over again as Vic began to pound almost straight down into the leopard‟s orgasm-clenching tailhole, his tail wrapped around the rat‟s waist like the belt of a victorious gladiator. He was vaguely aware of his wife collapsing, face first, onto the bed by his side, only just barely able to see her sated, smiling face as she drifted off into a deeply pleasured slumber. He wasn‟t far behind her. * Margot and Andre came to themselves eventually, finding their naked bodies pressed together on the tangled sheets of the huge hotel bed. There was a sizable indentation between them, one that was still warm, indicating where a massive rodent‟s body had just been, dispelling the impression that what might have happened could just have been a dream. Both felines turned as they realized that the shower was running, and then looked back at each other, before they leaned closer together and kissed, their lips meeting with a passion that they had both almost forgotten they had for each other. When Vic stepped out of the bathroom a short time later, he was treated to the sight of two shapely feline rumps presented towards him, Andre and Margot both crouched on all-fours on the bed, presenting themselves, wiggling their long tails and lovely hineys with eager arousal. The sweet spice of horny cat hit the black rat‟s nose, making his whiskers vibrate, and he stepped forward eagerly, one massive hand gripping each of the pair of presented bottoms. “I think you two are gonna enjoy the rest of your vacation,” Vic chuckled.

Hugh the Young Knight written by Ceep for the Seigneur de M. Hugh felt uncomfortable in his own skin, but that was the only pitiful facet of his life. The fact that he acheived knighthood at the legendary round table at such a young age was truly remarkable and enviable, yet all he knew was unease for it. It was not the affections and admirations of the people that left him feeling sheepish and shy, though; no, it was the very reason that he sat among knights who, in his eyes, were twice the man he was, yet the opposite was true. A specimen of masculinity rarely unseen, a contrast to the freshness of his face, his young body rippled with muscle tone and power; even through the stuffy clothing and the chainmail he was obliged to wear as a knight, the lines of his musculature were unmistakable, lending him to be unintentionally intimidating to those around him, yet the gentle, freckled features of his face and his supple, pale flesh lent themselves to a more friendly, youthful appearance which rendered him approachable. Indeed, Hugh had a gentle, if not quiet disposition, yet a fierce loyalty to that which he believed in - and what he put most of his faith into was his coat of arms and the honor of his kingdom. Though the youth had not yet been tempered by the fires of bloody combat, nor had he taken a life, those he stood beside thought of him as an intelligent and capable knight in spite of his age. In celebration of Hugh's knighthood, the captain of the knights saw fit to propose a banquet - and the queen, an intelligent beauty who was thoughtfully involved with the knights of the roundtable, allowed this feast without opposition. Amongst the queen and the entirety of his greatest peers, Hugh felt absolutely tiny, a truly ironic sensation, considering his musculature over even the most fit individual there. There was conversation, a great meal, and drinks to be enjoyed, yet Hugh was ever the wallflower, eating quietly and talking politely, avoiding any and all eye contact with the queen out of a sense of bashfulness - and that was quite difficult, for she frequently looked his way. Hugh was certain he could see ulterior motives in her gaze, and had he been a little bit more mature, he would have easily seen her lust. Yet, all he knew for certain was that the queen was giving him queer looks and flirtatious glances - what could he do but tolerate it? Very soon, a toast was held in Hugh's honor, one he found difficult, to say the least; bearing a contrived, cheeky smile brought on by overwhelming embarassment, he took the praises of his queen and his fellow knights with modesty, yet the lovely royal lady blindsided the youthful knight with a command that shook him and rendered him speechless. "Brave young Hugh," she said with a tone not unlike a sultry purr, silencing the entirety of the dining hall, "rise for your queen. Let me gaze upon your youthful body, a fine model of the male form!" All heads turned from her majesty, Guinivere, to lowly Hugh, so young that he should not have been any more than a lowly squire. "I, ah... I beg your pardon, your majesty?" he said, his voice a tiny squeak. "Hugh," she said slowly, "you heard me well." Then, letting a seductive smile grace her features, the queen relaxed in the comfort of her decorated seat, awaiting young Hugh's show. It was so unlike Hugh to be any kind of an exhibitionist, but there it was - a direct order from his queen. For many long seconds, he simply thought of rejecting the command and forfeiting his knighthood, but that would have cost him everything. Resigning himself to the queen's will, he rose from his chair, standing above the heads of all his fellow knights. All eyes were on him; in deathly silence, they awaited his next move. Please give me the strength, Hugh silently prayed with momentarily closed eyes. He felt no divine will enter him, but he made up for its' absence with willpower of his own. Emitting a long sigh, he began to curl his mighty arms inwards, at the same time subtly hunching himself over. With blushing cheeks and a subtly grimacing expression, he flexed his arms for all they were worth, and Guinivere looked on with obviously hungry eyes - had anyone been watching her and not Hugh, they would've seen the very unladylike way she licked her lips. Hugh felt all their gazes on him, criticizing him, scrutinizing his every move, and it unconsciously spurred him to do the best that he could. Straightening his back, he smoothly lifted his arms above his head, and he exerted every ounce of his strength; his muscles bulked heavily, stretching the tight mall to its limits. It would have been appropriate to see him holding an anvil in his bare hands, or maybe even the entirety of the castle's tower, but all he lifted was the air itself. As he ran every cluster of youthful muscle in his arms through their paces, they trembled, as if such power was too much for them. He balled his supple hands into white-knuckled fists, and he shuddered. He soon reached the height of his spectacular double-bicep pose, and at much the same time, a noise of wheezing, protesting metal came forth, growing more and more intense as the youth worked his muscles. With a grunt of exertion, the chainmail he was dressed in split in a dozen places, ripping like fabric, just as easily as the shirt over said mail. There he stood, still blushing, his unlikely arms and his defined chest clutched loosely by ruined garments, his face still alight with blush, by then more than ever before. "Very good," Guinivere said quietly, belying the true lust she felt for that handsome youth, "you may take your seat again, young Hugh..." Well past the banquet that evening, Hugh found himself amongst his fellow knights, still quite bashful from the outcome of the feast. He had been issued a new set of chainmail and a fresh tunic - bothh with some extra slack in them, to help prevent another such incident from occurring - but the youth chose to remain in the nude following his bath. As he finished up and dried himself off, he heard escalating words from Lancelot, arguably the most respected and beloved of all the knights of the roundtable; ordinarily, a scrap between even such noble knights was not unheard of, but the things passing Lancelot's lips were stunning to all - Hugh included. "I can hardly believe the behavior of our queen! I saw the lust in her eyes as clear as day!" Though Lancelot's plight was, on the surface, one of morality and disgust, the truth was that he felt jealous - Guinivere was a woman of impeccable beauty, not to mention exclusivity for her royal blood. It certainly flustered Lancelot to know that a youth nearly half his own age had her favor and her sexual admiration, yet to admit his own lust for the queen was not at all acceptable; the bitter irony was that speaking derisively of her was accepted more than admitting his own wantings for her body. Whether he picked up on this or not, Hugh correctly assumed that Lancelot's anger was his fault; being a good, noble knight, however, Hugh simply would not stand for such words about his queen. The youth abolished any and all shyness; all that mattered to him was the honor of the queen. He emerged from the baths with his expression set in stone, his inexperienced eyes glowing with intensity. Lancelot turned his gaze on the nude form of Hugh; momentarily, he was staggered by the sight of his body, though it wasn't the first or even second time he'd laid eyes on the young knight. "You shall not speak of the queen in such a way, Lancelot!" he warned, finding himself unafraid as he stood toe-to-toe with Lancelot. For a moment, Lancelot - dressed in merely a loose-fitting undergarment - looked as though he were sizing up the youth as an opponent, but ultimately, he shook his head. "Forgive me, Hugh, I should not have spoken ill of our fine queen," he conceded, his tone one of benevolence, but not submission. More and more, he found himself admiring the pale-skinned youth before him in more intent ways, and in the slack confines of his undergarment, he felt his shaft swelling with blood. It was just obscene that a teenager, nearly a mere child, hat such an enormously powerful body. Hugh, pacified but still not accepting of Lancelot's behavior, stood proud and tall, his muscles flexing and twitching even at an idle, his heavy, uncut shaft hanging freely between the carved flesh of his thighs. "Your body," Lancelot said absently, having stepped back to better view Hugh's form, "such a form, it's like your mother and father carved you out of marble, Hugh." The comment brought Hugh pause, and it interrupted his unconscious intimidation, replacing his stern expression with a blushing, somewhat dull look. "Ah, thank you, Lancelot," he bleated, suddenly well aware of his handsome fellow knight's roaming eyes - in some way, he felt comfortable with Lancelot ogling him. "Please, Hugh, satisfy my curiosities," Lancelot said with a hint of arousal in his voice, taking a few steps away from the youth. There, in the training hall - just off of the knights' quarters, where they slept and bathed - was a rack with hundreds of pounds of armor and weaponry upon it. It would've taken a horse and a carriage to move it with so much gear upon it - but, almost instinctively, Lancelot knew Hugh could move it with ease. "You want me to lift that?" Hugh asked, tightening his jaw in unease and disbelief. Wearing a small, coy smile, Lancelot nodded and chuckled. "Try it. You might be surprised." Feeling just as shy and uncertain as his forced show in the banquet hall, Hugh momentarily sized up the rack; at least ten feet tall, it was covered in mail, plate armor, swords, axes, and shields - easily several tons worth of steel, not to mention the fact that the rack itself was built out of sturdy, ancient wood. "Lancelot," he said uneasily, looking back at the handsome knight - Lancelot nodded reassuringly, folding his arms across the toned form of his chest. "Try, Hugh, please. Satisfy my curiosities." Hugh sighed, and though the noise reeked of impatience and disgust, it was actually a sound of exasperation - why did everybody wish to ogle his body like so? To somebody so sexually inexperienced, it was very unusual to Hugh, but he would oblige Lancelot. Squatting down, clutching the cumbersome rack by its' base from the side, Hugh grunted, the sound not youthful, but rather one of a grown man pushing his body to the limit. Before Lancelot's eyes, the pale, freckled example of pristine, male beauty before him began to rise that loaded rack - clutching with his arms, lifting with his legs, Hugh rose inch by inch. His carved biceps balooned, the mighty pecs flexed tight and in deep striations, every single muscle strained and bulged, stretching the velvet boyskin. Hugh’s body became carved and edgy, a superior, unreal musclebeast as he showed off his true power. His breathing, once steady and calm, had since degraded into animalistic and unintentionally lewd huffing. Lancelot was staggered, and had his jaw not been clenched, his lip not bit in a display of admiration and arousal, his mouth would have hung open. To see a form so youthful and perfect as Hugh's lifting that rack so high that it crested over his head, revealing his animal-like, bushy armpits, his body glistening with sweat, his herculean chest heaving with the labored breathing of a wild animal, Lancelot was shocked, amazed, and incredibly aroused - in the snug-fitting undergarment around his hips, he sported a mighty erection, and all he knew for certain was that he had to feel that youth's body. Hugh set the rack down a mighty thud!, followed shortly by the rattling of mail and armor. A few armaments fell to the floor in noisy, harmless clanks and clatters, but Lancelot could hear none of this - all he wanted to hear was the gruff panting, the near snarling of Hugh's breathing. He smelled the youth's undeveloped scent, that which would one day be a potent musk of unspeakable attraction and heartbreaking sexuality, and he availed himself for the youth. As he approached, Hugh turned, his freckled face alight with blush, his skin damp with sweat; before he could speak a word, Lancelot kissed him, slipping his tongue into the warmth of young Hugh's maw, teasing over the youth's palate and teeth in an enormously sexual gesture. Before Hugh could even register the kiss, Lancelot ended it, and he pressed his cheek to Hugh's own, savoring the feel of soft, pubescent flesh on the shaven stubble of his own - which, inversely, was a sensation Hugh enjoyed. "L-Lancelot," the youngest knight stammered, finding himself silenced with another kiss, this one shallow and brief. Lancelot had no words, and he drove on with instinct alone. He nibbled and kissed down the impossibly mighty youth's jawline and neck with brisk speed, but he dabbled on Hugh's chest. There, he licked, he kissed, he gnawed; no crease of muscle, no swatch of smooth, freckled flesh was safe; Hugh shuddered and moaned, and involuntarily, he flexed hard for Lancelot, pouting out his chest, presenting like a peacock to the handsome knight. Hugh unknowingly fed off of Lancelot's worship, and his shaft, once casually flaccid, had already begun to swell with arousal, engorging its' length with blood. As it reached its' peak and it came around to a respectable length but an unbelievable girth Hugh shuddered, and Lancelot was further stricken by the youth's form. Even as compelling as the ambivalently tender and hard flesh of the youngest knight's chest and arms was to his kissing lips and licking tongue, Lancelot could not resist that which dwelt between Hugh's chiseled thighs. Dropping to his knees, unabashed in his homoeroticism, the handsome Lancelot clutched Hugh's meat in a strong, tough hand, a contrast to the virgin flesh of that penis. Squeezing it firm in his grip, he pulled down upon the uncut foreskin of the youth's length, exposing the tip, its' shade a muted pink, one unaccustomed to light or the chilly air of the outside world; indeed, to have the tender glans of his shaft so ruthlessly exposed sent a shiver up Hugh's spine and made him moan, yet the moisture and warmth it naturally knew was replaced with another - Lancelot's mouth. The handsome knight struggled to engulf Hugh's colossal manhood, and as he descended, he removed his groping, tugging hand, placing it, along with the other, on one of the youth's thighs. Hugh's cheeks lit with a vibrant and youthful blush, making his cute freckles all the more apparent, and though he quaked and moaned with pleasures yet unheard of to his sexually inexperienced body, he found himself embracing an almost feral dominance; setting one of his smooth hands on the back of Lancelot's head, he encouraged the handsome knight to work his swollen shaft harder, doing so with wary pushes and squeezes on the back of his skull - Hugh was not entirely sure what he was doing, but whatever it was, he somehow knew it was right. Distantly, Hugh wondered if this was a common occurance for Lancelot, or if it was similarly his first time with another man - but at the forefront of his thoughts, all he really acknowledged was how wonderful that mouth felt around his length. Huffing with nearly the same intensity and urgency as when he'd so effortlessly hefted the armor rack, Hugh held firmly onto Lancelot's head with both of his supple hands. Everything about the moment was unspeakably fine; Lancelot, whether by practice or dumb luck, sucked and bobbed upon the youth's turgid member with incredible ferocity and skill, and his manly, rough hands alternately fondled the hairless, wrinkled, tender hide of Hugh's scrotum, or the carved-in-stone curve of his rear-end. Hugh soon felt himself nearing the bliss of a climax; he had masturbated, but it was a rare occasion, for he found his time spent better practicing with the sword or maintaining his fitness, and so Lancelot's ministrations were helped along by a pent-up, pubescent libido that rarely knew the casual release of a loving hand. "Oh, ah, nngh!" Hugh grunted, screwing the charming, youthful features of his face into a toothy grimace, clenching his naive eyes shut. Sweat dripped from his body; once but a sheen not unlike a morning's dew, it freely poured from his form, and his member, nestled safely in the hot and humid confines of Lancelot's gulping, sucking maw, oozed incessantly with bitter-salty pre, stinging the knight's tongue, but not in a manner unpleasant. With his huffing and near-snarling reaching a crescendo, Hugh pulled Lancelot's head flush to his pelvis, and he stood up on his tip-toes in the sweet, sudden agony of his climax. Every cluster of muscle and iron-hard sinew tensed to a density not unlike chainmail, and he blew a colossal, pent-up load down Lancelot's hungry throat. The older knight wasted not a drop of the young, yet virile and thick seed that Hugh saw fit to feed him, and the youth's orgasm and dominance brought him such scintillating pleasure that, without the use of his hands, he sullied the insides of his undergarment with a sloppy, manly mess of his own. When Hugh at last returned to his normal posture, and he appeared to be his timid, usual self, he awkwardly unhanded Lancelot's skull and apologized down to the handsome knight - Lancelot stood, and without a word, he silenced the young knight mid-sentence with another kiss. The feel of such supple, pink lips on his own was blissful, accessable pleasure - but they were finished for the night. "You, young Hugh, need not apologize for anything," Lancelot said enigmatically, walking off to the baths. Hugh watched him go, and then he made his way to bed for that night, where he slept very soundly. The next day, Hugh's attempts to reconcile all that had happened the night before were cut short; a mysterious command from the queen herself, delivered by her handmaiden - he was to come directly to the queen's bedchambers and speak to no one along the way. Hugh felt an odd chill down his spine, a tingling of worry, even though he assured himself he had done nothing wrong - it was simply an immature reaction to being summoned by the highest of authority like so. Stepping through the threshold of her bedroom door, dressed in his new chainmail and more slack, forgiving tunic, Hugh looked adorably uncomfortable, and more out-of-place than ever before. "You summoned me, your majesty?" said the handsome young man, moving before the bed, for upon its' edge sat queen Guinivere, as lovely as ever, if not in the regal setting of her throne room. Hugh made to kneel, but the queen stopped him with a hand upon his chest. "There is no need for formalities or anxiety, young Hugh," she cooed with gentle reassurance, her tone not unlike that of a caring mother, but her eyes exhibited anything but such innocence. "Regarding your display at last night's banquet," she began, at once summoning a mighty blush to Hugh's smooth, freckled cheeks, "I wish to see more of the same, without the prying eyes of your peers - only mine." Sitting back, she looked unusually casual for a queen, but her eyes were ever lewd, burning with sexual intensity and desire. Despite his endearing shyness, Hugh obliged - but this time, he disrobed, shedding the tunic, the mail beneath, and his undergarments, exposing the naked, supple flesh of his chiseled body to the chilled air of the castle and the hungry eyes of the queen. His manhood, though flaccid and unaroused, hung heavily between his thighs, promising to be the most handsome penis the queen had ever laid eyes upon - and indeed, she couldn't help but glance at it, even as it was. Her eyes studied not just the youth's genitalia, however, for she examined every crease of muscle and every bulging strand of sinew, taking in his appearance with a subtle, nearly animalistic lick of her lips. It slowly dawned on Hugh that the way his fellow knights treated him was not derision, but jealousy - he was so reluctant and bashful to acknowledge it, but he was built like no other man he'd ever seen, his body chiseled out of what seemed like stone. With this realization, he began to flex almost involuntarily, well before the queen's mark, but she didn't seem to mind it at all; biting his lip in concentration, he pouted out the mountainous bulk of his chest, presenting that smooth flesh, and at the same time, he raised his swelling arms high above his head, his supple hands clenched into white-knuckle fists. Lifting his arms like so exposed the wiry, fluffy bushes of his armpits - the pits themselves exuded an acquired taste of a scent; though Hugh did not yet possess a true musk of his own, having not matured enough, the smell of his body and his sweat was unmistakable, and it aroused Guinivere in incredible ways. With her behavior growing increasingly unladylike, Guinivere stood from the bed, looming before the bulging, yet charmingly youthful form of Hugh. With another subtle lick of her lips, she leaned in close, and she partook of a sniff of an armpit, a tentative one; the smell of his sweaty masculinity made her shudder, and beneath the regal dress she wore, she was growing quite wet. With lust unchained, she pushed her delicate nose into the bush of his armpit hair, and she sniffed deep, taking the youth's undeveloped musk deep into her lungs. Just as bold as her nose was her hands; delicate and soft, covered in pale flesh nearly as supple as Hugh's own, she clutched the youth's half-erect penis and plump, dangling scrotum in one, and with a distinct, royal thoughtfulness, she gently bounced and groped the tender flesh, coaxing a deeply aroused, wavering groan from the handsome young knight. Such a careful, yet intent touch saw his penis swell with arousal, its' shaft engorging with blood, reaching its' full length in record time. With a smile most coy, Guinivere wrapped her slender digits around that penis, and she gave it a few long, soothing pumps, coaxing mighty wads of pre from the tip in heavy spurts, each one accompanied by a full-body shudder and a deep moan from the youth. It was not Guinivere's intention to get Hugh to a climax yet; his pleasure would come, but only as a consequence of her own. "Hugh, sweet, handsome, valiant Hugh," cooed the queen, shedding her dress and the stifling undergarments beneath, exposing the striking female beauty of her form to the chilly air and to Hugh's hungry eyes. Her hips - delicately curved, so very womanly, but not overtly pronounced. Her breasts - swollen and full, pale and supple, the nipples stiffened and hard with arousal and the cool temperature. Behind her, a fine ass, but Hugh's was arguably finer. With the queen so close to his colossal form, Hugh was unable to partake of the view of her long legs, but what he saw was enough to leave him nearly drooling. "Your majesty," he whispered, his tone laced with lust and reverence, both vying for control of his quaking voice, "your body, it's so beautiful, I would give anything to have you." She pressed her lips to his in a brief kiss, and then she trailed a delicate digit down the range of his hairless chest, savoring the contrast of his body; though supremely muscular, he was so pale, so soft, his flesh sprinkled with charming, youthful freckles - this would be a night to remember for both the queen and her loyal knight. "Come, Hugh," she said tenderly, backpedaling, moving to kneel upon her bed. Hugh did just the same; beneath his bulk, the bed creaked in protest and unease, though it held up. With the youthful, hulking knight so close, Guinivere let her fingers run wild over the creases and crevasses of his chest, though they came to dwell upon the pink, tender nubs of his nipples. Once soft and inoffensive, they had since stiffened with arousal, not unlike his member. Though nowhere near as tender as that particular flesh, Guinivere's touch brought him tingles and shivers of pleasure, impulses that shook noises not unlike whimpers from him. "Oh, your majesty, Lancelot's touch was not half as pleasing as yours," he cooed, blushing only after the fact; in consideration, Guinivere paused, then twisted her beautiful lips into a coy smile. "So Lancelot couldn't resist you? I see... It seems I am not the only one so afflicted with your form," she chuckled, punctuating her words with a soft kiss upon his cheek. Hugh could only shake his head slowly; the poor youth was so embarassed by what he had blurted out that he couldn't even answer with words. Guinivere acknowledged his bashful nature; indeed, it was one of the things that made him so adorable, and it was a fine contrast to the masculinity of his male form. Furthermore, she had precisely the cure for such a lack of confidence; lying back, shying away from the youth's bulk, the queen slowly spread her legs, exposing the slender lips of her cunt. Hugh had never seen such a thing before, but instinctively, he wanted it. As she spread those folds with her digits and he was allowed to gaze upon the moist, inviting pink of his queen, he bit his lip, erasing the pale, pink color from it for a moment. "Have at your queen, young Hugh," she said, her voice a sultry purr, her eyes exuding raw sexual desire. "As hard as you wish it - my body is yours this night!" Hugh needed to hear no more words; he pounced with animalistic lust. Just on instinct, he knew what to do; he prodded the swollen, blunt tip of his penis to the inviting, deep pink of her cunt, and he sank it in to the hilt. Precum and vaginal juices were his lubricants, and they were beyond sufficient; he entered her without pain, only pleasure. The handsome youth quaked and shuddered with overwhelming pleasure, finding his first time with a lady to be an erotic dream; Guinivere was not so noisy, but still, she moaned and stroked fondly over the ripped arms of the youth, which were planted on either side of her. "Mmm, yes, Hugh, have me!" she shuddered, rolling her eyes before closing them; with all the ferocity of a beast, Hugh started to pound his shapely hips, bobbing his deliciously taut behind up and down in an endless, mindless groove that matched no music, and served only to please himself and his queen. Hugh panted and grunted in gruff, overwhelming desire; not unlike the way he had snarled and rumbled like a bull when he performed his feats of strength for Lancelot, he became similarly noisy for the queen. Consciously, he told himself it was all for the queen, but deep in his subconscious, he knew it was all about him; there was his ego that she was nurturing, whether he realized it or not. He knew that his own pleasure was what mattered most, and that Guinivere's beautiful body was a means to an end. It was a thought no self-respecting knight would ever admit - but Hugh hadn't even realized it himself. Indeed, he was straying off into more animalistic territory; he heard her moans and smelled her scent, but those impulses came to him like visions. He watched her plump, pleasing bosom bounce and jiggle enticingly, doing all it could to lure him in for a lick or a suck, but he was set in his ways; he would fuck his queen for all she was worth. "Oh, Hugh, H-Hugh!" she cried out to him, losing any and all composure as the handsome youth went on, his rhythm degrading into chaotic bucks and grinds - soon, he would climax, and that was apparent in his grunting and snarling as much as it was in his actions. Hugh knew nothing in the way of prolonging sex; so inexperienced and full of the hormones of puberty, all he knew was how to get off, and that was precisely what he did. Pounding his mighty cock in to the hilt, smacking his balls into the queen's thighs, Hugh erupted with an outspoken noise of pleasure, and he shot an incredibly virile load deep into the queen's womb. Her cry suggested a climax of her own - whether or not she had actually gotten off, Hugh didn't know, and in an uncommon moment of callous thought brought on by self-serving fucking, he didn't care. But, in his afterglow, he cuddled close to his queen, and he partook of her compliments and her kisses - and in time, he drifted off to sleep in her arms, so used to the exhaustion of sex.

It was possibly one of the most divine sights to see on our planet. Two human specimens built so perfectly, so genetically healthy, entwined in a primal, loving embrace. Their bodies were made for nothing else other than to pass on as much of their genes as possible. No one could think otherwise in their presence, as a sexual energy flowed through them as though their form was otherworldly. Being in their vicinity was an aphrodisiac. And by chance, the two crossed paths. This was about a month ago, and they haven't stopped fuckin' since. The amazonian women shifted up and down the gigantic shaft, it stretching her to her limit. She was a strong one. Her musculature was hard, but kept a feminine softness to it, as a perfect layer of fat softened her curvy body. A body that could outperform some males in terms of strength, but carried such grace that that a ballerina jealous. From the perspective of the average man, her ass was gigantic. Two spheres, topped on thick thighs, pulsed as the throbbing member slide in and out, in and out. She was on top, on her knees and hands, over the massive man. Her hands rested her upper body weight on his pecs. Pecs that were more like slabs of meat. Her weight felt like nothing to him, and she was a big girl. Even strong men would be worry about their ability to lift the beauty. She rode him longer and better than anyone ever could in his life. Afterall, he was pretty sure he had the biggest penis to ever belong to a human being. He never, ever went balls deep. And this dark skinned goddess of the Levant took complete control of him. He flexed his wide core and pelvic muscles, performing a kegel, causing his dick to bulge. He saw it. She felt it, threw her head back, her thick black hair flailing wildly behind her. She responded, expertly controlling the muscles in her lower abdomen, tightening herself around the engorged member. Between her strong biceps, she squeezed her breasts, the only other chest that could compete with the man under her in size. She leaned downward, her breasts squeezed between their massive frames. The woman's kegel remained tight, acting like a natural cock ring to the man's penis. Now closer, she used the muscles in her proportionally small waist to rock her hips up the shaft. As she reached the top of the shaft, she released the kegel. She went down the shaft relaxed, kegeled when she got back to the bottom of the shaft, and moved upward again. The man kegeled while she relaxed, and relaxed while she kegeled. Back and forth they went. The energy built up inside of them. The rhythm picked up pace. The couple seemed to be energized. They moved faster and faster. Then... bliss Something more than an orgasm. Something more than a human being could ever feel. Something they had never felt before. It didn't end. their sight was overloaded, as though they blinded by a light, but without the burning sensation. Just a white flash, that slowly faded. The feeling remained, and they gazed into each other. Her breasts grew... against his swelling pecs. His hands grew around... Her lengthening torso. Her hips swelled in all directions... Creating room for his growing cock. His back lifted his body off the bed... Raising her growing form high upward. Her feet slid downward... Along his swelling thighs. His feet slowly moved off the bed... Followed by her hair. His growing lips embraced his.. . Held by his widening jaw... The unearthly feeling subsided, bringing them down to a state of humanly orgasm. The fluids poured out of them. She screamed in ecstasy, as it vibrated, swirled, and exploded throughout her entire body. His giant form flexed and exerted itself, pumping out load after load deep inside her. She fell limp, and he caught her, she shook slightly. The orgasm lasted for 20 minutes for both of them. They never thought it would end. They laid in embrace, their bed legs shattered under their weight. Her giant form laid across his bigger one. Slowly, sleep began to overtake them...slowly...little by little...everything grew dark... before the same energy slowly push the sleep away... The End.

So lately, we've really hit the weights hard. As I've said, I've been growing all over thanks to her help. I've been getting taller, thicker, and stronger. And she joins me. We do full body work outs daily. We spend about 6 hours at the gym a day. Even after the gym, we do post work-out work-outs. What we do depends on how she's feeling usually, but she claims it's all part of her system. Like, sometimes, when we have a particularly good day at the gym, and my muscles are so pumped that my clothes look like they shrunk a size or two... She'll take me to her place, and make me flex as hard as I can for more than hour. On more than one occasion, after flexing like this, the pump would just...stay. Then the next work out session, I'd pump even bigger. It felt amazing. And her...She's putting on a lot of size, too. She eats even more than I do, strangely enough. It's because she doesn't want to cut. She tells me it's alternating between bulking and cutting that makes women lose their curves. And she doesn't want that. It's weird. It's like, they way she talks about working out is bro science, but she's not a bro. Sis science? It sounds just as stupid sometimes, but her results are real. She isn't getting taller, but she's certainly gaining faster than I thought a female ever could. Her strong, hard body building a soft, smooth layer of feminine curves. Her hourglass figure amplified, growing in all the right places. No matter what the work out, it always ends in sex. We sleep like, 4 hours a night. We're incredibly in sync. We both wake up, extremely aroused and full of energy. We trained our minds and bodies to their absolute peak, and with our genetics, our peaks were extremely high. But my favorite is when she'd exercise my dick. I'd sit down in my computer chair (custom made for my bulk), and after warming up my junk with a heat pad, I'd call her in, let her know I'm ready. She'd walk in, a smirk on her face. "Alright baby, are you ready? Are you ready to grow for me?" I nod. "No. Say it." "I'm ready." "Ready for what?" I struggle with my ego. She knows what. But I'm getting into the right state of mind. I must train my mind. Train it to listen to her, so it can command my body to change. "I'm ready to grow." "Yeah baby..." She's on her knees, in front of me, my giant flaccid hanging below. "Now don't get hard. You want to grow, don't you?" "Yes." "All you have to do is listen to me...focus on my voice." She said, her eyes never looking away from mine. Our primal urges fighting for dominance. "Just listen to me...and obey..." I say nothing. "Trust everything that I say." She says, as she grabs the head of my penis, and pulls it downward, stretching it. It feels great. It's like stretching a muscle...but not...it's my penis. "All you have to do is obey me, believe what I say, and trust me to make you grow so much bigger...." I start to get hard. "No..." She says softly, biting her lip, as she resisted the sexual urge as well. "Control it. It's YOUR penis. It's YOUR body. It's YOUR mind. If you aren't in control, who is? Stay soft..." She said. It was difficult, sitting in front of an entity that seemed to be created to simply appease my sexual interests. but I managed, and she stretched my dick in all directions. The Flaccid length stretching further and further out each moment. "Relax...relax all the muscles in your hips...your legs...your pelvis...allow them to relax into the stretch." She said, no longer looking at me, but looking at my penis, wrapping it over her forearm and pulling down on it. "Command the cells in your penis to grow...Send the message from your brain, down your spine, out through the nerves all around in and inside your penis...grow..." I've never been this turned on in my life. after a series of stretches, she pulled it straight out. It took every bit of my willpower to not get erect at the sight. Her strong arms pulling my dick longer than I'd ever seen it, even erect. "My my..." She said. "This must be a new record." Her large chest heaved up and down in arousal, but she calmed her breath. "But this is nothing...right?" I said nothing, trying to fight the erection. "Right?" She said, looking up at me. "Right." I said, hypnotized. "Then tell it to stretch out even longer..." She commanded. I obeyed. "Believe it will happen, put all of your faith into it. Ignore all doubt, and feel it..." I saw her hand move further away. "Feel it stretching even longer..." Another tiny bit, my dick stretched longer. "Feel every cell divide..." I stretched longer. "From the base..." A bit longer. "Up the shaft..." She pulled a bit harder, and it stretched even further, to it's max. She held it there for a few moments, her smirked returned. When she let go, it fell limp. She grabbed it from underneath, and shook it a little. "Haha, look at it! It's huge!" She was right. I was always a grower. While my flaccid size was always very impressive, I grew significantly. Now, I was longer than I had ever been. It looked like an salami that needed to be diced up for proper distribution. I fought the erection again, but this time, she said "Let it happen, get hard for me, big guy, let's see what I'm working with." It was like a damn has collapsed, as blood poured into my dick. It shocked both of us, as it jumped off her hand, and assumed it's upward trajectory into it's fully erect state. It exploded in thickness, but it's length remained relatively unchanged...unchanged as in, still longer than I've ever seen it. "Wow baby...You're gonna get so fucking huge..." She said. And I obeyed.

I've always been a big guy. In my childhood, I always took pride that I was the biggest. Even before puberty. I was always the tallest kid in my grade. Whenever my fellow 8 year old kids would gather round and compare bicep sizes, I always won. I mean, I was humbled a bit by middle school, when some of the girls got taller than me before I hit puberty. It depressed me a bit, to be honest. So when I hit my massive growth spurt, my height surpassing them, and everyone else (including adults) by 8th grade, I loved it. In high school, my ego reached critical mass, as a freshman, I was taller than all but 2 seniors. I loved it when 4 months into high school, I surpassed them. Now, getting that tall, that fast, I did look kinda scrawny. But my muscles started building up quickly. I wasn't even doing any extra working out at first. Just playing football or basketball with my friends. It wasn't until I joined the football team in 10th grade that I started lifting. And my body loved it. My muscles were growing so big, so fast, I was getting stretching marks on my arms, back, and thighs. My senior year, when I was 18, I had become famous in my small suburban town. While girls adored me, most of them were too inexperienced to be able to handle the size of my penis (which also had stretch marks from rapid growth). So when I went away to college, I met a 25 year old grad student. Her name was Sarah. Now, I loved my size. I loved ducking through doors. I loved how my shoulders were too broad for some doors. I loved how no matter what I wore, you could easily see the outline of my giant genitals. When I hit my head on things, I'd smirk while in pain, thinking how I was too big for this society. But Sarah...was obsessed. I was still growing, but slowly. She was insatiable, and the only girl who could handle my size. She was a big woman, too. Not chubby or anything. No, but tall, curvy, she liked to workout too. She studied all sorts of biology and holistic herbs and stuff like that. She was on a journey to get as big as possible, and she swore she made her breasts and butt bigger using exercise, herbs, and meditative techniques. I was skeptical, but also, didn't really care. She was hot and able to handle me. We both had endless sexual energy. When we first started dating, we had sex for 3 days straight, getting food delivered, and calling off work. We tried to see if we even had a limit, but we could only avoid real life for so long. But when she offered to help me get even bigger...I still remained skeptical. Herbs? Meditation? Some other hippy bullshit? Come on, now. I wanted to stay natural. But sometimes, I would see before and after pictures of men who used steroids. I was still bigger than them! Imagine, if I took them...I'd become... She slapped me when I brought this up to her. My health wasn't worth the risk. She insisted, as always, when we returned to everything after we die, we can live out all our dreams, but it was our responsibility to take care of our health in this state we exist in. There was some other hippy shit she said, too, but whatever. She suggested we try her techniques first, and if I wasn't satisfied, we explore other options. To my surprise, her combination of pills, food, yoga, weightlifting, meditation, and hypnosis had speed up my growth. My muscles didn't seem to be growing as fast as they would be if I used steroids, but I was getting taller faster. And even my dick and balls were growing...something that hasn't happened over the past 2-3 years. Then, she started exercising my dick. She'd stretch it. She'd jelq it. She'd work it out for me. And it would get sore. And it grew. and grew. and grew. Jesus Christ, did it grow. I'll give you the exact details of my favorite session. Stay tuned for the next, and final part.

So there are lots of ways we god stock make money. We sell our sperm/eggs. We make public appearances at fancy clubs and bars. Do talk shows. Some of us have reality shows (but those are B list god stock). Most of us just do some web chatting, and the money pours in. One time I made 2 months worth of bills and expenses in just 2 hours of watching classic early TV on camera in my boxers. Anyway, today is what I like to call an off day. It's my favorite kind of day. All devoted to my own pleasures and my own pampering to help me get even bigger and sexier. I wake up at 5 am, as usual, getting my normal 4 hours of sleep I need a night. It's always the same thing that wakes me up. It's my throbbing erection. It's my own personal alarm clock. Remember, I have the best sexual genes to ever walk this planet. I have full control of my erections...when im conscious. My 5 o clock boner seriously feels like it's going to rip out of my skin. Thats due to a combination of how hard I am, and how fast I'm growing. It curves upward like a crescent, it's base firmly rooted into my pelvic floor, which I flex, forcing my erection to even harder stature. I wanted to jack off right then and there. But I hadn't jacked off in years. I don't really need to, someone is always willing to do it for me. About 2 inches up from my massive erection hangs my obscene testicles, slowly shifting up and down by their own accord. Giant, soft spheres are pure manliness ejecting wave after wave after wave of testosterone through my body. I can literally feel the hormone pulsing through my veins. Most of it shooting up my shaft, which swells larger and thicker due to the feeling. It's intense. More intense than it's ever been. I took a deep breath and relaxed, my shaft softened slightly. It was hard to resist, but I didn't want to waste any time here. I feel the orange sized head tap the bottom of my right rib, and I start getting hard again. This was strange for 2 reasons. First, I've been able to control my erections (again, while awake) since I first had them. Second, the head never reached that high up my long torso. Those of you that do you silly, outdated and ancient exercise techniques might get this feeling...You know when you walk past a mirror after not really paying attention to your body for a week or two, and you are shocked by how much size you put on? I instantly jumped up, and looked at my wall-mirror (that's a wall that's entirely a mirror) and that's what I felt. but this was more than it's ever been. My heart races. I was already in the top 10 biggest god stock in the world, and I was only 19. I was already told I still have about a decade of growth left! Jesus, I was going to be a legend for years to come until one of my descendants over takes me. I wanted to flex and look at myself in the mirror. But again, I couldn't waste time. All human stock have about the same life expectancy (except military stock, poor guys), and I didn't want to waste my short 150 years on this planet not sharing myself with the world. I headed to my basement, with my personal scholar stock. Being the best of the best, I had the best resources available to me. These guys have the best training, best technology, and best intelligence around. It took them a while, but they were able to pinpoint how I had managed to get some scholar stock in me, which prevented me from being as dim witted as my fellow god stock. But anyway, every day, several times a day, I came down here for my dose. You see, this most god stock have a system like this, as we do have plenty of money. We get it early on in our lives, and it basically directly inject you with a perfect, organic cocktail of nutrients and vitamins and minerals. All things our science knows aid humans in growth and fertility. I sit my giant bulk into the seat. The nerds..er...I mean...scholars, begin taking my vitals and attaching wires to me. They start with my right arm, attaching them to my massive bicep and triceps. These will send electrical currents in patterns that simulate the brain's signal to grow. Watching their tiny hands work around my next-step-in-human-evolution arms is funny. The female one looks cute, but I like to try to keep my seed within god stock. I don't want to corrupt any other stock, especially scholar stock. If it wasn't for them, I'd never be able to be as big as I am. They had to walk up step ladders to attach the electrodes to my neck, head, and jaw. They literally climbed around me like worker ants scurrying along the queen. Except for the gross insect part and that I'm a dude. The girl attachs an electrode to the tip of my penis. She smirks a bit, and tries to hide it. Scholar stock are very professional. Catching one smirk while working is incredibly rare, even for me. "Can you get erect for me, sir." She asks. I wink, but don't get a smirk out of her again. My giant flaccid begins to rise higher and higher, and she watches intently, with a lack of emotion on her face at all. The thing is, scholar stock are great at hiding their emotions. But the OTHER thing is, god stock are great at sensing sexual attraction, stimulation, and arousal. She couldn't hide it from me. Even though scholar stock weren't the most attractive bunch, their women were able to handle my giant cock better than balanced women. The nutrients flow into my veins, literally feeding and fueling my size and growth. The electrodes turn on. The hypnotic suggestion device begins whispering into the speaker chips in my ear, convincing my body to grow and grow. God, I love this. Balanced humans find this machine better than sex. They get addicted to it and it sometimes ruins lives. So it's a regulated market. But god stock are so hyper sexual, that our orgasms and sensitive parts are amplified way beyond anything balanced humans could even feel. Our minds can handle such intense emotions, but balanced humans can't. Well, most can't. I could see my muscles throbbing and pulsing. I could feel my bones lengthening. I could feel more and more blood forcing itself into my erection. I could feel my balls swell larger and larger as they grew more efficient, the cells stimulated beyond anything the natural world could create. God...I was growing. I fucking loved when this happened. I willed myself to grow faster, bigger, strong, more sexual and powerful. This has happened only 2 times before, where I could actually see my size increase. It's a rare, but well documented, phenomena. I have tied for the record amount of times this has happened to sometime. And all 3 times, it has happened in the last year alone. I get even more turned on, somehow get harder, and bigger. I grit my teeth, clench my hands, and curl my toes. The feeling was intense. I could feel the flow of nutrients pick up speed, flowing faster into my veins, as the nano machines in my body quickly added protein to my muscles, calcium to my bones, and fatty acids wherever it needed to go. It felt like there was a pressure pushing outward from inside my cock, as each cell divided, grew to maturation, and divided again. layer upon layer of meat appeared throughout my body on top of my frame. My frame was pushing outward, widening and lengthening to hold more muscle. The problem with this system is that it stops on it's own instantly and out of nowhere. Everything could still go, but the body just ignores it, and all positive feeling ends immediately. I was about to jizz right then and there until it stopped. "Sir, you've added more to mass in this session than any previous session ever recorded!" All the dorks...I mean...ah whatever. All the dorks cheered. This was the first time I saw them react like this. It was actually kind of funny. They are cool dudes, but it's hard to get them to come out of their shells. They cheers because setting a record meant they'd get published, and more pay, and it looks great on their resumes. Anyway, I got a text, telling my my first lady of the day arrived. I buzzed her in and she entered the basement. Remember when I said most balanced humans couldn't handle this device? Well, she could. She could handle it amazingly for a balanced human. The thing is, she could handle a lot of things most balanced humans couldn't. She was, afterall, the number one ranked balanced human for god stock. This meant that her background was completely normal, with little or no traces of human husbandry in her ancestors, but her genes were perfect to add to god stock. What made things more complicated is that we were madly in love. And I was outgrowing her physically, but not emotionally or mentally or spiritually.

The large 18 year old flexed in front of the full length mirror. He saw the reflection of his bearded chin smirking back at him, the top half of his head cut off from view. It seemed like each day, more and more of his face was being cut off by the ever shrinking mirror in front of him. While awesome, it didn't excite him as much as his shoulders being out of view completely in the mirror for the first time. He always stood right in the same place, admiring his body for hours. The carpet where he stood was worn away by the ever growing feet that constantly shifted and pivoted as his body struck pose after pose. "How?!" His mind would wonder. "How could I get this big? How am I still getting bigger?!" He let out a "Ha." The beginning of a laugh, as he flexed his pecs. They swelled up in front of him, each flex keeping them slightly larger than before. He always saved his pecs for last while flexing. They'd get so large, he could feel the weight of the muscle and blood on his wide rib cage. He'd never seen them so big. And he knew they were getting bigger. He could literally feel it. He could feel every cell in his body dividing. He could feel the giant breakfast he just had being turned mass for his body. He would meditate on the feeling constantly. He could feel the hormonal cycles changing throughout the day. He could feel the testosterone cycle looping. He knew exactly when he'd be growing the most while awake. His erection stuck out obscenely from between his legs. The thick base went straight outward, and began it's upward curve until the head pointed straight upward. The thickness of it felt like it would rip out of the smooth skin. Perfectly symmetrical. It did more than throb or pulse. It was so hard, that the blood flowing through it made it beat intensely to the rhythm of his circulatory system. A dick so strong, it actually helped his heart circulate blood throughout his massive body. A stirring at the bed, but the young man didn't even look away from himself. "Jesus, you look even bigger than last night." The 25 year old women in bed said. "I know..." The guy said, continuing to flex. There was a pause. "You broke your headboard..." She got up and took a better look at it. "...In half." He was momentarily shocked by feat of strength he performed without even knowing it. He thought to himself, "Is that how big and strong I am now? Jesus...and I'm gonna get even bigger?!" He smirked and everything on his body bulged slightly. "What the..." He thought to himself. His heart started racing. The girl was standing at the foot of his bed now, completely nude. While her body was amazing enough to never go unnoticed, she had to admit defeat to the part-deity standing in the same room as her. She found it hard to look away herself. She let out a small sigh of envy, wishing to have even some of the size and sexiness. She would admire her body too if she was that tall and perfectly built. "I'm gonna go freshen up, and I'll admire your body with you." She said, walking out the door. He wasn't even listening. "Did...I just..." He thought. He felt the feeling of growth all over his body. It surged well beyond it's previous intensity. He had never felt his body put so much of it's energy toward growth in his life. The feeling kept expanding inside him. He felt his bone and muscles saturated with hormones and testosterone. His skin felt tight on his body. The feeling exploded inside him, causing him to grunt slightly. His penis, harder than it has ever been, looked positively shocking to him right now. His heart started racing. The organ thumping so powerfully, the woman 2 rooms over paused over the sink, trying to deduce where the faint noise was coming from. His penis, looking bigger than it ever had before, swelled larger right before his very eyes. His muscles flexed as hard as possible against his will, but forced him into an upright and perfect posture. He could barely keep his eyes opened, as he saw his clenched jaw in the mirror, slowly moving upward. He felt his shoulders swell outward, taking his arms further away from his torso. His biceps flexed as hard as possible, and then flexed even harder somehow. His back bulged, almost forcing him to bend forward. His core and chest muscles flexed in response, keeping him at equilibrium. His legs bulged, morose than any other muscle group. Their massiveness felt like it rivaled his entire upper body. He felt like they were preparing to jump, loading more and more blood and energy into them by the second. ANd just as quickly as it began, it stopped. He looked more pumped than he ever been. He knew he was taller. And his dick was so long, his mind was having a problem process the visual of it. The mind, disbelieving that this giant member was attached to him. "Absurd!" His mind would say, in a silly accent. "Mammals do not acquire a phallus this large! Tell that fool to stop this irrational behavior at once!" He looked in the mirror. The size difference was just enough to disprove his disbelief. He had grown. He had just put on size and height. An inch here. A few inches there. But there was no denying it. Did he do it? Could he control it? Was it a genetic fluke? An abnormality? Is he going crazy? Is any of this real? Is reality real? Could philosophy and human reason ever answer if the time-space... The door opened, and the girl's "sexy face" immediately turned into a shocked face. "What the f..f...uuu...k" She said, as her fluids dripped down her freshly rinsed legs.

sorry, gonna fix this up and repost it later

You laid back, your head and upper half of your torso rested against the headboard, which groaned against the weight. Your hands were behind your head, your thick, long arms flexing unconsciously, pulling the skin even more taught around your impressive size. You habitually rubbed your beard against the top of your pecs slightly. The action always made my heart race, reminding me of how your size could easily perform such a feat. Your shoulders almost seemed to be as broad as the bed itself. Your giant back holding up everything, a base for your giant frame. Your massive, well defined abs rose up and down softly. This was all secondary to my line of sight, sitting on my knees, between your gigantic legs. Your knees were up, encasing me on my sides. Your giant thighs rose up from your hips like slanted redwoods, your giant feet and calves behind me. My attention, though, was focused on the gigantic member in front of me. It pointed straight upward, both my hands performing the long, perilous journey up and down. Each hand individually was unable to encompass the unit. I could feel your heart beat though it, almost as though your heart was trying to explode out of your body through your dick. I continued to stroke, hypnotically focused on your member. It was so big! And you knew it. Me? I'm too proud to admit the fact that just stroking your member like this has already caused me to orgasm twice in the last 5 minutes. Without stimulation. But the smirk on your face has me think you already know. Your testicles rest on the bed. Think about that for a moment. It might be hard to convey, but just like the rest of your body, your ass and hips and waist are huge and full of muscle, lifting your genitals well up into the air. Your balls are so big, they still rest on the bed under you. They cycle up and down, cycling the absurd amount of hormones through you, so much I can smell them. My hands slowly and softly go all the way up your shaft. And up. And up. Then down...and down...and down. I repeat this cycle. So much heat is coming off of your shaft it's almost burning me. I don't know why I asked this question. I've been amazed and stunned into silence this whole time. But my mind and mouth just acted, curious. My logical side knew there wouldn't be an answer to the question. But i asked it anyway, compelled. "How did you get so BIG?" I said, both my hands massaging the inhuman head the crowned the pulsing shaft, my eyes never leaving the focus of my new admiration. You laughed a bit. "Do you really want to know?" I stopped, and leaned to the right, unable to see your face because of the competition from your manhood. A confused expression on my face. "What?" "I can do it." You said. I stopped stroking and sat up a little, to look over your giant friend. "What do you mean?" "I can make myself grow." We both paused. "You're fucking with me." I said. My hands weren't moving, but the rested on top of your penis. You made a kegel. I felt it. I looked down at your shaft. You kegel again, this time, I feel it inflate slightly. My pupils dilate. You do it again, this time, I see your whole body swell up slightly. I jump back. "Told you." I paused, as you brought your leg around me and stood up, your giant member swinging back and forth. You Walk on the side of the bed toward me, and I look up, your giant form blocking the light from behind you. You flex everything in your body, and cause a slightly bigger growth spurt. "OHMYGOD!HOW!WHAT?!" I said rapidly. "How!? What is this?! How are you doing this?" "I just can." You said, calmly. You grew again. I could even hear the groaning of your flesh expanding against itself. My body didn't react. Partially in shock, disbelief, awed, and drowning in lust, my hips thrust and flexed, and I squirted, for the first time in my life, the fluids shooting out from between my legs, spraying your knees and shins. The rest of my body was frozen, being rocked by one of the strongest orgasms in my life. My amazement and fascination with your size and growth trumped the convulsions my body was trying to make. Every fiber of my being didn't want to miss out on a moment of you. "And..." You said, bringing your hand gently along the side of my face, "I can do it to you, too." The orgasm amplified, and my body flung backwards, my head arched back. I was lost in it. I wasn't even alive anymore. I was pure bliss. Nothing else was happening in my mind and body. Except for your line, echoing inside of me, anticipating your magic. "...I can do it to you, too..."

I can never think of a good title... anyway, here's another story. Not so much growth focused. More size and size difference focused. This seems like I'll add a part 2...it's just a matter of when the muses speak to me. ------------------------- Your hand brushed along your hair a bit, getting it just right. It's not like you needed to do this, though. You could basically go out with bed head and still get the hottest women to approach you by just smirking at them. You were the definition of alpha male. Your body was made to deposit your seed into as many women as possible. As smart, strong, and capable as you were, the core of your purpose was for nothing more than to propagate our species. To pass on your amazing outlier genetics. Destined to push humanity into a better standing in the history of evolution. Your bigger, stronger, more fertile decadents will go out and flood the gene pool with...you. And you knew it. Your massive frame easily carried the pounds of giant muscle, that easily grows under strain. Your sharp, focused mind and senses able to pick up on the most subtle changes in your environment. Your heart able to support you easily at your size...a size that barely seemed human. Testicles so large and efficient, you could feel the testosterone pulsing out of them, saturating ever cell in your body. And you knew you were still growing. And growing faster than ever. It's been years since you've seen anyone taller than you. You have grown accustom to the shock and awe of people looking up at you. You sometimes grow tired of people begging you for just your touch. It's a bad day for you when you only take home 5 women. Sometimes, your empathy reminds you of all the people you simply were not attracted to, that were heartbroken by the fact that you rejected them. But you knew this was to be expect. These were inevitable aspects of being the alpha of alphas. No one could challenge your authority, our presence, your sexuality. Until...tonight. Sitting up at the dim bar, getting a few shots in, preparing to enjoy your night. You down a beer glass of whiskey like it's a shot glass. It seems like it, in your giant hands. You smirked, realizing this. Your size continuously amazed you. Catching your reflection often had you thinking "God, how am I this looking?" Or "I'm getting even bigger...how much bigger could I possibly get?" A second glass was given to you. In slow motion, you rose the glass up. People around you were usually awed by your drinking abilities. This time seemed to be more so. Your head tilted back as you swallowed the spirits, and the entire bar seemed to fall into silence. You set the glass down, smiling. Knowing people were admiring you, as usual. You look to your left, seeing most of the patrons at the bar looking at you... Wait...no... They are looking...past you? What could possibly take attention away from you...what event could be taking place... And you feel presence take a seat next to you. Whatever had moved into position besides you was taller than you. Your hyper senses picked that up. Now and then, there was the anomaly. Someone with gigantism or some such thing, taller than you. Never as good looking or muscular as you, though. Still, you were a little jealous. You were the biggest and best. No one should be taller... You turn your head to your right, and your jealously turned to shock. The most beautiful dark skinned female form sat, with her right hand on the bar, her body turned towards you. You had to look...up at her...Somehow, Her dark hair, eyes, and tanned Mediterranean glowed in the dim building. Her form exploded with femininity, overloading all of your sensitive senses with her beauty and sexuality. If you didn't have perfect control over your gigantic penis, you would've grown erect at just the sight of her. Her giant breasts were at your eye level, defying gravity. The cleavage exposed about half of the top of her breasts. They were held aloft by broad, strong shoulders. This just exaggerated her proportionately tiny waist. If you weren't so lost in her majestic, otherworldly beauty of this woman, you'd question how her body can even stand upright... Until you saw her thick, defined legs, made to carry well more than her own body weight. Her ass muscular ass was so round and big, it enveloped the tiny stool that struggled to keep her form up. You could see the perfect, spherical orbs of her booty even from the front. Her hair acted as a frame to her body. Amazingly long, flowing down just past her buttocks. The thick, wavy nature of her hair reflected every bit of light that barely existed in this bar, as it curled and bobbed with any little motion she made. Hair that flared out to the left and right of her, some of it over her left shoulder, with no frizz or imperfection. Her face almost blinded you, perfect in dimension, shape, and proportion. The size of her head still human looking, making it seem small in comparison to her amazonian body, which just made the rest of her body all the more impressive. Your primal nature believed you were visited by a literal goddess, come down from heaven to bring you nothing but the purest form of bliss and pleasure. Your ego was conflicted...a woman who was taller...bigger than you?! She couldn't be stronger though...could she? No...that would be impossible...females aren't capable of such strength...physiologically that would be impossible... but the amount of beauty and sexuality that this woman controlled almost brought you to your knees...THAT should be impossible. YOU were the alpha. YOU were in control. She would bend to YOUR will. You would never let anyone, especially a woman, control you. You almost shook off the enchantment that she had over you...ready to take control and have her, like the hunter that you are. Until she spoke...In a voice that almost stopped your heart...with a smile that almost made you weep. "Hi."

A little story about a less sane version of me... ------------------------------ You were everything you could ever dream of. So confident, and exactly what you would be if you sculpted your own body from marble. Gigantic slabs of muscle piled high on your absurd frame. Thick, long bones kept everything perfectly symmetrical. You feet were so big and wide, you constantly almost tripped...if you call knocking everything out from under you without any effort tripping. Your massive legs had layer after layer of meat on them. Your hips formed the base of your barrel shaped torso, wide enough to keep your swollen quads from pressing into each other too often. The muscles of your pelvic floor, lower abs, and obliques flexed and strained constantly, holding up your obscene testicles and penis. Testicles so large, you could feel them throbbing all day and night. Pumping inhumane amounts of testosterone through you. So much testosterone you'd sometimes feel overwhelmed by it, struggling to remain focused, as it fueled your growth. For a while, your penis would just explode out of your pants at the sight of almost any healthy woman who could in the area. You learned to control it, though. Bigger than any porn star you've ever seen, even while soft, your bulge literally shocked everyone that happened to glance down at it. Which wasn't hard, considering your hips were almost at eye level with most people. Add to the fact that you HAD to go commando, or your balls would be crushed against your giant legs all day. You've constantly been asked to leave family locations over the years, and more and more people don't want you around their children. It's not your fault that this thing keeps growing, though. The only thing that distracts from the large beast in your pants was your torso. Your shoulders were wider than most doors. Your pecs stuck out further than the biggest breasts you've ever touched. Your back flared up and outward, forming the base for your shoulders...shoulders that you could swear were bigger than even last week. At your sides, your arms constantly bumped into other parts of your torso, as every movement seems to make the entire limb flex. Your hands could envelope a human head. Your forearms were as hard as bone, and every fiber could be seen under the skin, if it wasn't for the layer of soft, smooth hair that added to the impossible amount of manliness you already were. Your jaw, wide and chiseled, was covered in a 3 day old beard, longer than most guys can grow in a couple weeks. Every flaw that comes with your size didn't matter. how you couldn't fit on most beds, how often you hit your head, how hard it was to find clothes, how most people assumed you were stupid. You didn't care. You loved how people gasped at your presence. When you walked through teh door, everyone looked in awe and lust. You could get any women in bed with you with just a wink... but that's where the flaws started to matter. No one women was willing to try to take your massive penis. You've made it your life's work to find a women who would at least get the tip in...but even the few adventurous women who've tried never enjoyed the sex. You were an anomaly. Like the last of your species, trying to find someone to be with. Someone who could take you. Someone to bond with. anyone. And you found her... You should've realized that an average women being so obsessed with how big you were probably wasn't stable. Looking back, you saw lots of signs. But you hadn't had this connection since you got this big...she couldn't take all of you...but she did what she could... So now here you are, chained to a stone slab in her basement. She said she loved this kind of thing. She said this was her fantasy. When asked to elaborate, she insisted it was about power. How she wanted to feel power over a strong man like you, only for the man to break free, and take the power, and seduce her with it. You agreed with it...kinda lost and confused. This wasn't your thing, but hey, this was the only women you could actually have sex with in years. The chains were tight. Too tight...even for you. Not something you could break, even with your gorilla strength. When she started walking toward you with a needle in her hand, you objected. But she just smirked...The signs were all there, man, how'd you not guess this? Now a crazy woman is injecting you with...She won't tell you what it is! Your heart is racing. It burns as it's injected. You feel it rushing through your veins. You feel your balls throbbing. You feel your penis grow hard against your will. Harder. harder...and bigger. You feel your body sliding across the stone. You look at your left shoulder, then right, in a panic, seeing them shift away from your point of view, as you grew wider before your very eyes. Your chest grew out, taking up more of your peripheral vision. You felt your body growing longer. Your legs growing outward. You feel the shackles press against your growing wrists and ankles. You roar like a monster, asking what she has done to you. She's laughing and moaning, as moisture flows out from between her legs. She shouts triumphantly that her mad science was working. Her aroused body and twisted mind writhed in pleasure as she watched you expand beyond what you wanted. You were perfect, and she ruined you. But this thought was being destroyed by the amplified testosterone coursing through your veins. You were becoming an animal. and this nude, aroused woman, who wanted nothing more than to you to unleash your massiveness upon her stood there...waiting for you to free yourself and take your prize. The chains shatter. You lunge at her. She embraces what little she can of you. Hour and hours and hours of pure bliss followed there after... --------- This one will have one more part to it...let me know what you think

Hello again! This is the third chapter in the Dylan series. Unlike the majority of the original chapters, this one actually used the fact that Dylan was underage as a plot point, so I had to slightly rework the story to account for the fact that he is now 18. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! ------ A Morning with Dylan Dylan woke up with one thought on his mind: food. The muscleboy sat up and stretched, yawning while he expanded his huge muscles and watched them flex and roll. He looked around, confused for a moment, before he remembered where he was; Kyle’s apartment. Putting on his now-dry basketball shorts, Dylan went to check on Kyle. The blond photographer was fast asleep, but Dylan needed food, and he needed it NOW. Looking at the time, Dylan saw it was only 6:00. The local grocery stores should be opening up any time now. Unfortunately, Kyle's apartment wasn't very close to any shopping districts so it would be quite a walk to the nearest store - nearly 10 miles. Dylan quickly wrote a note that said, “Out shopping, will be back in an hour, -Dylan,” before posting it to the door and walking out. There was only one thing that Dylan loved as much as working out, and that was running. In track meets, Dylan would always stand out. Most runners were skinny and had long, bony limbs that didn’t weigh much so that they could run faster, but not Dylan. His musclebound legs blasted him forwards with amazing speed, leaving the other competitors panting in the dust. Dylan weighed nearly twice as much as the heaviest runners, but he was 100% muscle, and rather than slow him down, the teen’s hulking body made him faster than any other kid could ever dream of being. As Dylan headed towards the store, he started to feel a tingling within him, a nagging feeling telling him to run. The boy jogged at first, feeling the morning breeze stroke his powerful body, then slowly increased his speed. After two minutes of jogging, he got tired of this and broke into a mad sprint. He dashed by trees and people, dodging obstacles, not even stopping for cars as he flew recklessly down the streets. One woman cursed at him and, laughing, Dylan simply flexed his bicep at her and dashed away. Dylan loved the feeling of the wind blowing in his face, trying to stop his muscular body from ripping through the city at breakneck speeds but failing, the resistance nothing to the barrier-destroying propulsion of his explosive calves and powerhouse thighs. The boy, high on his own speed and power, accidentally struck a metal signpost. Dylan felt a sharp pain in his arm, but only momentarily, as his muscles quickly recovered. Looking back, he saw that the signpost was not as lucky; his momentum had caused it to bend over at an awkward angle, the metal twisting into itself because of his boy muscle. That sight made Dylan hard, and his huge penis engorging in his shorts caused him to slow down. Fortunately, the boy was already approaching the store at that point, so he coasted into a casual walk and checked the time. 6:21. It had taken Dylan just over twenty minutes to run a full ten miles. The young stud congratulated himself as he walked towards the store. Dylan tried to open the door, but it was locked. A short, small man came out and glared at Dylan. He didn’t look very impressive, with an angry red face and a balding head, but that didn’t stop him from fuming at the young musclegod. “Can’t you read the sign?” he scolded, “We don’t open until 7!” Dylan rolled his eyes, “Dude, big deal. I’m a little bit early, so what? C’mon, let me in.” “No!” the red-faced man shrieked, “Rules are rules! I can’t let every half-naked bodybuilder barge in as if they own the place! Wait outside!” The musclegod was starting to get annoyed at the short guy. Dylan unconsciously flexed his muscles, which were pumped from the hard run and looking even bigger and more intimidating than usual. “Look, dude, if I stand out here I’m going to have to wait over half an hour. Just let me get my groceries and leave, okay? I don’t want to start any trouble but you’re really pissing me off.” The employee looked like he was about to punch Dylan (which would have been a very, very bad mistake) but before he could do anything a well-endowed blonde walked out of the store. She wore the same uniform as the angry short man, a dark blue polo shirt with the store’s name printed across its front, but her tremendous breasts were spilling out of it. Dylan’s jaw dropped when he saw the size of her jugs. “Are you giving our customer here trouble, Nelson?” The tall woman asked. “N-no,” Nelson stuttered, “This man over here, he was trying to get into the store. I know you told me not to let anyone in before 7, so…” The blonde shook her head in dismay, “I don’t think you understand Nelson. We always treat our customers best. Especially customers as handsome as Mister…?” “Tadeo,” Dylan smiled, “I’m Dylan Tadeo.” “Great! My name is Samantha Moreno, but you can call me Sammy. I’m the manager here. Sorry about Nelson bothering you,” she gently shooed him away, and grumbling, the short man stormed off, “But that won’t happen again. Normally, we have a pretty strict policy on clothing, but for you, I think we’ll make an exception.” Samantha lifted her finger and tenderly ran it across Dylan’s bulging pecs. She gasped at their massive size, their smooth, fine hairs and ponderous density. Dylan smirked at the fortunate turn of events. He forgot his hunger for food in exchange for a hunger for pussy. “You like muscle, Sammy?” The blonde dropped her hands and stroked the boy’s abdominals, amazed at the hardness of all eight bulging muscles. “It’s my favorite thing in the world.” “I can show you all my muscles, if you want,” Dylan suggested. Samantha glanced into the stud’s eyes. He was so confident, so masculine. “There’s a room in the back that nobody ever uses. I’m sure you could… show me your muscles there.” She led the enormous muscleboy to the back storeroom, anxious and yet excited. Samantha hadn’t been this giddy since she first went on a date in middle school, but this sexy musclegod whom she had only met a few minutes ago was already making her mad with desire. His enormous muscles and cute face stirred a need in her that no other man had even made her feel. Samantha had dominated every man she had ever met, but she failed to realize just how dominant Dylan really was. And she also failed to realize just how huge the young stud was... everywhere. The blonde turned around to see Dylan looming over her. Growling, the musclegod tore off Samantha’s shirt and lifted her entire body in his arms, suffocating her soft, petite frame in his hulking muscles. Sammy was suddenly overwhelmed by so much hot, pulsing strength that she nearly passed out – or she would have, if Dylan hadn’t thrust his tongue into Sammy’s lips and kissed her with the ferocity of a tiger. Samantha returned in kind, making out with Dylan’s perfect face and basking in the manly taste of his mouth. Dylan quickly pulled their lips apart and gazed at Samantha, his eyes burning with lust. “A lot of chicks say I’m too big,” he growled as he placed Samantha on the floor and seductively slid down his basketball shorts, “But they all manage to take me. Some with more screaming than others.” Samantha’s gorgeous blue eyes widened as the muscleboy unsheathed his gigantic tool. Huge, hot, and veiny, it was just like the rest of Dylan's body. That monstrous, drooling fuck-cannon was either a woman’s biggest fear or her biggest desire. Fortunately, for Samantha, it was the latter. Dylan saw the need in Samantha’s eyes, the same need that everyone had whenever they saw his beautiful nude body. Dylan stepped towards Samantha and flipped her over so that her smooth ass faced upwards. Grunting, the muscleboy rammed his cock deep into Samantha, all the way to the base. Samantha screamed at first, just as Dylan had predicted. But Dylan had also predicted that Samantha was a total size junkie, and he had predicted right. By the third ass-splitting thrust, Samantha was moaning in pleasure, pleading Dylan to fuck her even harder, to be even more brutal. Dylan gladly obliged. Standing up, the huge stud lifted the blonde on his cock. Samantha gasped at the sudden change in elevation, unaware of what Dylan was doing. The musclegod carried Samantha on his cock over to the wall and began to fuck her against it, using nothing but his powerful glutes to provide her with brain-numbing, orgasm-inducing pleasure. Each thrust was twice as hard as the one before, and Samantha, impaled on what was probably the world’s largest cock, cried in ever-escalating ecstasy. Dylan fucked so hard that the concrete wall actually started to develop cracks; somebody would have to pay a huge repair fine later. By this point, Samantha had already orgasmed several times, but Dylan had yet to achieve climax. Pulling the tired and delirious woman off his sexweapon, Dylan grabbed it with both hands (he had to, because that cock was simply too big for one) and started erupting all over Samantha. It was not a short series of bursts, but a continuous jet of incredibly powerful cum, splattering all over the blonde’s naked body. By the time his orgasm had subsided to a dribble, Dylan’s manly essence had practically covered the entire room. “God damn…” Samantha groaned, “That's the best sex I've ever had. I never even dreamed that a man could fuck that hard.” Dylan chuckled to himself. “What’s so funny, mister?” “You called me a man, Sammy. How old do you think I am?” The blonde was taken aback by this question. “Uh, you look pretty young, so… maybe mid 20s?” Dylan burst out laughing. “Nowhere close, girl. I’m only 18, still in high school. I’m barely legal and I'm already the best fuck you've ever had.” Samantha's eyes widened, and her rapturous grin transformed into slack-jawed astonishment. “Shit, Dylan… you’re joking right? You could win any bodybuilding award you want with a body like that... and your monster dick, you fucked me with that thing like a master... and how the hell do you have such a sexy face.... there's no way that anyone that young could be so perfect...” “Better believe it, ” the muscleboy smirked. The blonde gazed at Dylan's impossibly beautiful smile one last time before her eyes rolled up and she fell to the floor, unconscious. Samantha simply hadn't been able to comprehend that a man as young, handsome, and powerful as Dylan could exist. When she woke up forty-eight hours later, Samantha would remember it all as simply an incredible and sexy dream. Dylan shrugged. “Time to get some groceries.” --- Dylan arrived back at Kyle's house about half an hour later. The muscleboy gently tapped on the door, and when nobody responded, he lightly grasped the metal knob (so as not to crush it in his fist) and turned it to enter inside. The photographer was typing on his laptop, heavy metal playing loud. Kyle turned off the music, looked up, and was greeted with Dylan's irresistibly handsome face. The stud was wearing a black shirt with a large pink heart in the middle of it with text that said “I Love Big Muscles!” and a silhouette of a bodybuilder under it. The shirt was obviously two sizes too small, but it would do an adequate job of covering the boy’s muscle-bound torso for now. In each hand, Dylan held half a dozen grocery bags that seemed to be filled to the brim, and overflowing. The teen walked over to the kitchen and dumped the bags onto the counter. Kyle’s mouth dropped as the bags unleashed a gargantuan pile of food. There was no way that he could finish it all, even in a month. Dylan chuckled as he removed the last few items and threw the bags away. Kyle stared unbelievingly at all the groceries the boy had brought. There was everything he could think of; milk, juice, yogurt, butter, bread, cheese, meat, fish, vegetables, eggs, pasta, ice cream, and more. And it seemed that the boy had brought everything in abundance, almost as if he had gone to every alley in the store and stocked three times as much as he needed. There was enough food here to feed a family of six for a week! "How much did you get?" Kyle exclaimed, "This is excessive!" “Calm down, Kyle, calm down,” the muscleboy placated him, “I got it all for free. There’s a real nice lady at the store who helped me out. I told her that I needed to get some groceries but I didn’t have any money, so she gave me some stuff for free. She gave me this t-shirt, too.” The blond stared at Dylan, unconvinced. “Okay, I kind of persuaded her a bit. But she really liked my muscles. As you can see,” Dylan pointed to his shirt, which was desperately struggling to contain his beefy biceps and heaving pecs. “She gave me all this food one-hundred-percent out of her own free will, I swear.” In reality, after fucking Sammy, Dylan had made it clear to the employees that he better get what he want. All Dylan wanted, of course, was food, and lots of it. Being a true meat-loving carnivore, he ended up devouring four pizzas (bacon, pepperoni, BBQ chicken, and sausage) and three gallons of milk for breakfast; a bit heavy, but Dylan knew he could burn off the calories in a few minutes of jogging thanks to his incredible metabolism. Dylan also ordered the poor employees to pack up a dozen bags of groceries from every end of the store. Nelson raged at the teenager, whom he accused of “robbing us blind,” but a dangerous flex of Dylan’s biceps shut the red-faced man up quickly. Kyle shrugged. “Well, food is food. I’m probably not going to finish it all, but thanks anyways.” “No problem,” Dylan winked, “I’ll be happy to eat anything you leave behind.” After the two had cram-packed the groceries in the fridge (which took surprisingly little time thanks to Dylan’s lightning-quickness), the muscleboy went back to the bedroom while Kyle ate a bowl of cereal. A few minutes later, Kyle was done and headed inside to talk to Dylan about the next photo shoot. There, he saw the teen, positioned above the floor and held up only by his feet and hands, doing push-ups. Dylan burned through them at a rapid-fire pace. He would do fifty push-ups in thirty seconds, then change to one-arm push-ups and crank out fifty more. Then he would switch arms and blast through another fifty reps. In less than two minutes, Dylan had finished one hundred and fifty push-ups, and his biceps were ridiculously swollen with pump. But Dylan wasn’t done; the muscleboy lied down and clasped his hands behind his head. He then started doing crunches with single-minded determination, repping them out even faster than he had his push-ups. The hulking teenager somehow managed to reach one-hundred reps by the time a minute had passed. Despite their speed, these weren’t the hasty, rushed crunches of an amateur, but the perfect, refined crunch of a professional bodybuilder. The only reason Dylan could pump them out with such mind-blowing speed was because of his extreme level of fitness - any fat that might have existed on Dylan's body was so miniscule that it was not visible to the human eye. Dylan jumped up and turned around… and bumped into Kyle. His enormous chest slammed into Kyle’s head and sent him flying backwards on his rear. Dylan didn’t even seem to notice the collision until he looked down and saw Kyle sprawled on his ass. “Shit! I am so sorry!” the muscleteen bent down and lifted the photographer up in his mighty arms. “You okay, Kyle?” Kyle rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, I’m fine. My head hurts a bit where you slammed into me, but that’s it." Then, jokingly, "You’ve got to watch where you’re going with a body like that, stud! You could hurt people by just touching them!” The musclebound adolescent blushed. “Sorry. I was just so into my warm-up, I didn’t even notice that you came in. Hey, take a look at this!” Dylan slowly peeled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. Kyle’s jaw dropped, and his cock rose. He had seen the teenage musclegod shirtless before, but this was the first time he had seen him after he had pumped up. The boy’s thick, dense pecs, which were swollen from the earlier push-ups, protruded in front of him so much that they actually created a shelf big enough to carry, and crush, a carton of milk. His abs pushed the definition of what abs are supposed to be; they were eight of them, perfectly defined, containing so much muscle and size that they actually bulged outwards. It wasn’t the fatty kind of bulge, but the bulge of too much powerful and sinewy mass trying to occupy the same space; his abs created a dense wall of muscle that looked strong enough to deflect bullets. Even his arms somehow managed to overshadow their previous hugeness, biceps and triceps exploding in opposite directions, expanding with every breath, with every pump of blood through their veins. “You like?” Dylan winked. Kyle sat down on the bed, mouth ajar. “You look amazing.” “And that’s just from doing my warm-up,” the adolescent bragged. “You should see how huge I get after a real work-out!” This was the moment Kyle had been waiting for. “I bet you get absolutely monstrous when you’re pumped, don’t you, big guy?” Dylan chuckled, “You have no idea.” “Then maybe we should go to the gym and take a few pictures of you working out. I’m sure those photos would look incredible.” Dylan’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea, Kyle! When can we do it?” Kyle smiled. This would be his best shoot yet. “We can go right now.”

The Traffic Jam Half a dozen drivers angrily honked their car horns in frustration at a young man, as he walked through a slow moving traffic jam. He stopped in each lane and refused to move until a blue Subaru, managed to merge into said lane. The pair repeated the process several times, until they reached the rightmost lane and exited the freeway. "Pretty sure we are not supposed to do that, Spencer," said the driver. "Come on Jacob, did you really want to wait for a two mile long traffic jam to clear up?" "Well no." "So now we're out. No harm done to anybody." "I guess." "Dude you're too intense." Jacob gave his passenger a look, "I don't think you know what intense means." "Sure I do. You're always like, 'We can't do that,' or 'We're not supposed to be here,' dude you need to lighten up a little." "Yeah, yeah, you say that now, but one of these days you are gonna end up in jail for defacing private property or trespassing." "No I won’t." The two friends continued the drive for thirty minutes before they arrived at a large government building, near the center of down town. The building was roughly eighty years old, and stood as a contraction amid a sea of modern metallic and glass rectangles. There was character in the white painted bricks, and finesse in the detailed edges and borders. "You boys are late again," said the receptionist; a dark haired, pale skinned woman with an icy demeanor. "Sorry Eleanor,” said Jacob "We got caught up in a traffic jam," said Spencer. "According to the reports, the traffic jam hasn't moved at all in the last twenty minutes. Not to mention it's been an ongoing thing since seven." "We got off the freeway and drove here on the regular streets." "Yet you are almost an hour and a half late." "It's a long drive, and it took me a while to convince Jacob to get off the freeway." "I'm sure." "What? You don't believe us?" Eleanor stared down Spencer with her steel colored eyes; a hard soul piercing stare. Jacob tried not to pay attention, to not fall under the woman's spell. "I'm sure you have work to do, so why are you standing in my lobby trying to start an argument?" "I'm sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again." Spencer broke eye contacted and started walking towards the main elevator. Jacob followed suit, and felt a wave of cold air penetrate his body, despite the lack of air currents. Once in the elevator, he turned around to find Eleanor staring right at him. Thankfully the doors closed, almost an instant later. Spencer turned to Drake with a look of anger, "Dude, why didn't you say anything?" "I don't know. She scares me?" A look of total disgust spread over Spencer's face, "She scares you. You are a man, how can you be scared of her?" "Her eyes are terrifying. Besides you caved." "Because I didn't have any back up." The elevator doors sprang open and the duo walked out still arguing, until they reached their separate offices. Spencer left in a huff complaining that Jacob needed to grow a spine. After an hour somebody knocked on Jacob's door. "Come in." "Jacob do you have a moment," asked Melinda, a slender nearly flat chested woman, with brown eyes and brown hair. "What do you need?" "All the electronics in the building are freaking out, and there isn't a single IT person anywhere." "I can't really help you with that." "Actually I just wanted to know if your stuff is acting up." "Let me check, I haven't done anything other than power on my monitor." Jacob typed in his login information and waited for the screen to finish loading. Just before the Windows logo disappeared, the screen cut off, then returned to the login screen. He again typed in the required information, but nothing appeared on the monitor. "That's weird." "Check your phone; I was having problems with mine." Jacob pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and tapped the internet app. The camera app opened up instead. He closed it, and again tried tapping the internet app, only for the calendar app to open. "The wrong apps are opening." "Mine's basically just a brick, it won't do anything." "That is..." Jacob stopped mid-sentence upon taking a look at Melinda. Her breasts were no longer A cups, but instead appeared to be rather full C cups. Gone was the thin almost stick like appearance from ten minutes beforehand, and in its place an hourglass. An hourglass with generous bottom curves and a top seemingly still developing. Her lips curled in a snarl, as she realized Jacob was staring. "...strange." A button from her blouse popped right off and hit, Jacob square in the forehead. Melinda was stunned. She looked at Jacob then down at her breasts and yelped. "Oh my god. My breasts. My breasts are huge. Are...are those my hips? I need a doc," another button pops off and hits Jacob, hit time in the eye. "Jacob are you alright? That wasn't supposed to happen. I mean...god I don't know." She was paralyzed with fear, afraid to approach. Jacob sat in his chair rubbing his injured eye for several seconds until he heard a tearing sound. With his good eye, he saw Melinda's breasts grow to the point of no return. They destroyed the confines of her bra and proceeded to completely popping all the upper buttons on her blouse. The poor woman desperately attempted to cover her abnormally large areolas, as she fled down the hall. Jacob rose from his seat, wanting to wash his eye out; he suddenly felt dizzy. Disoriented, he started rushing to the door. Through his right eye, he saw the sleeves of his shirt were several inches too short. He lacked the time to stop his momentum, and plowed headfirst into the doorway before crumpling to the floor. "Jacob, Jacob. Oh dude what happened to you?" asked a frantic looking Spencer. "I'm not sure. I think I somehow grew," he responded as Spencer offered a hand. Up Jacob went, and up, until he was nearly a foot taller than his 5'10 friend. Through the pain in his eye and forehead, Jacob saw the height difference and became started. He stumbled over his feet and fell forward into Spencer. "Whoa dude, I got ya." "Thanks. Hey you are not Spencer." "What of course I am. Dude you should lie down, there's some blood running down your head." Jacob could feel something running down his face, lots of it, and yet he couldn't focus on the flowing liquid. The stranger standing in front of him, sounded like Spencer and had Spencer's clothes, but he wasn't Spencer. His man had red hair, green eyes, a triangle jawline, dark stubble, and the body of a power lifter. The shoulders were far too massive, the thighs and arms too bulbous, but most prominent was the gut. Like the rest of his body, the gut was visible through several tears in the man's clothes, it looked like a beach ball with ridges. Like somebody inflated Spencer's six pack, by pumping air under the skin to see how far it would stretch. "You can't be Spencer. He is blonde with an athletic build." The man cranked up his head, "Obviously I know that, I'm Spencer." The man started to help Jacob lie down, but used too much force and slammed Jacob into the floor. "Jacob I'm sorry, I don't know my own strength anymore. I don't know anything anymore. Everyone is transforming; growing, shrinking, gaining weight, losing weight, changing hair color, changing eye color, the list just goes on and on. And you're bleeding. Come on let’s get you to the bathroom." The stranger grabs the injured Jacob by the waist and starts guiding him to the bathroom. Still disoriented, Jacob can hear screaming from all over the fifth floor. A naked woman holding two clipboards to her Amazonian body runs past them. Behind her runs and elven woman, short and doll like. Near the bathroom there is man or beast, crawled up in the beetle position. The duo couldn't help but watch as when they recognized the man as Mr. Williams, the seventy-year-old senior manager, balled up on the floor crying. Most of the dense white hair covering his body suddenly fell off, the remaining hair turned pitch black, a dense bush sprouted on the his head. The leathery skin covering his body came alive, all the marks and imperfections slowly disappeared leaving behind pearly white skin, completely blemish free. A lifetime of bacon, pasta, cheese, and beer disappeared in a matter of minutes; the excess skin shrank away, leaving the man looking anorexic. That didn't last. The tissues under the skin started expanding and as his bones began reshaping his body; wide shoulders to go with a narrow waist, and high cheekbones to complement an angular jawline and deep set eyes. Muscles stacked together form the impressive six pack and solid arms of a French underwear model. However the man crawled up on the floor could never be an underwear model, not without facing accusations of stuffing his underwear. A pair of lemon sized testicles and a soft six by four penis sort of dangled out in the air, as Mr. Williams straightened himself out. The dark black hair on his scalp grew longer. The pitch black hair on his head and brows, matched his treasure trail; all of it contrasted with his bright baby blue eyes. The man was no longer seventy; he was probably 22 at the most. Williams stared at his body, then at the lanky giant, and power lifter before running off, sprouting wood. "Spencer what was that?" "What I was saying before. Everyone is transforming, though I don't know why that guy was naked to begin with." Spencer pushed open the restroom door and half dragged Jacob inside. It was difficult getting Jacob's head into the sink on account of his new height. After two minutes of struggling, Spencer gave up; he forced Jacob to his knees and shoved the man's head under running water. "Here press these against your head." Jacob grabbed a wad of water towels out of Spencer's large and calloused hands, and firmly pressed against the gash on his head. The pain and dizziness subsided. His brain began thinking again, rationalizing, trying anything to make sense of the situation. He stood up to his full height. "Spencer you are taller." The thick man managed to grow four or five inches during the walk to the restroom. He looked as if somebody had taken a picture, clicked on the corner and stretched it out. No apparent loss of muscle or fat due to the height increase. "Holy shit you're right. Fuck my face itches, it's on fire." He rushed to a sink and started splashing water on his face to no effect. No fire, other than a dense red bread of fire red hair to go with his the brighter eyebrows and eyelashes. His bottom lip became fatter, the top lip thinner. The nose bridge flattened a bit, the end extended a little ways downward, past the nostrils. Something happened to his ears, but whatever changes occurred where hidden by a thick lion like mane of dark red hair. The gut started expanding again. Growing and growing outward, the six abs on the surface managed to cut deeper and deeper with each passing second. His shirt tore, his pants and underwear tore, and so did his socks. Suddenly the restroom seemed too small. Spencer's gut and pecs bulged out about the same distance. His arms were probably larger than Mr. Williams' chest; his legs were definitely larger than the pretty boy's body. He was a massive wall of muscle covered with a padding of fat. Despite being five or six inches taller than Spencer, Jacob felt incredibly small in his presence. Spencer just seemed to overflow with overwhelming power and strength. For several seconds his body continued to swell like a balloon. "I didn't want this. I don't want to be fat," screamed Spencer has he brought his hands to the sink and knocked it from the wall. It crashed on his feet, but Spencer didn't react. Surely it hurt, though his face didn't even show the faintest sign of pain. It showed excitement. Spencer stepped away from the demolished mess, giving Jacob a good view of his genitals; the carpet matched the drapes. The equipment was probably larger than Mr. Williams', but it looked smaller given the power lifter style frame. Spencer gripped the veiny shaft and started jerking off. "This is amazing. Oh yeah. Fuck yeah. I'm so hot. I'm so fucking hot." Without warning the guy just started humping a sink until he destroyed it too. Due to lack to the lack of experience with his new body, Spencer didn't last long enough to destroy a third sink. He shot a load right into the mirror in front of himself, and kept shooting until collapsing to his knees. "Dude I feel like I can cum forever. Diana, I need to find Diana." As Spencer passed, Jacob couldn't help but notice the difference in height; four inches, maybe more in his favor. He didn't open the door; the red haired giant pushed it, tearing it off the hinges. It flew across the hall and slammed into the opposing wall. 'Holy fuck,' thought Jacob. He could not believe his eyes, as his best friend turned into the world's biggest bull. He couldn't believe the strength of the bull, to tear down a sink, rape another, and to send a door flying. It was surreal, it wasn't possible, and yet the overbearing stench of his cum served as reminder that it had happened. Through the cum, cut the smell of fresh blood. Jacob looked at the paper towels clutched to his forehead, all dark red and dripping blood. He threw them on the floor, and stepped over the debris, to look in a mirror. His face was his, though it was covered in blood. Turning the cold water knob, while still staring at the reflection he frantically stared splashing water on his face. The blood slid off, revealing the gash had healed. No scar, no mark, not even the slightest hint of redness. He continued to stare at his reflection for several minutes expecting some sort of change to occur. It didn't; not after five minutes, not even after ten minutes. He stepped out of the bathroom and started walking around. The entire fifth floor was a mess. Papers thrown about, plants overturned, office supplies littered on the floor, and holes of various sizes in all the walls. "Jacob? Jacob is that you?" Jacob turned around, "Yeah it's me," he said to an Asian woman. 'There aren't any Asian women in his department,' thought Jacob. "Jacob, it's me Trisha," said the woman. Trisha was a brown haired woman, with hazel eyes, and pear build. She was motherly, probably because she had five children and seven grandchildren. The new Trisha most definitely didn't have the body of grandmother. Her hips were wider than the average woman's, but her large bust completely overshadowed them, giving her an apple build. The build was only further accented by the wide square shoulders of a seasoned Olympic swimmer. Her round face was distinctively Chinese, but that body was too out of place, far too big standing at six feet tall. "Please tell me you're in the right mind," said Trisha. "I am." "Good." "Do you know what's going on?" "Well, when I saw Williams I thought the transformation changed a person to their youthful prime, but he was made more muscular and more handsome than I remember. Then I started seeing other people. Diana became a Kate Upton look-a-like with a fuller figure. Rick shrank from 6'2 to 5'5, and now looks like a miniature incredible hulk. Spencer is a red haired giant power lifter, Samantha is an elf, Gina an Amazon, Anna a bodybuilder, Jessica and Rose look like supermodels, Greg and Tim look like underwear models, Silvia, Melinda and few other just grew giant breasts and experienced minor changes. I'm Asian. Honestly I don't have the faintest idea what's going on." "I need a moment to process." "You don't have a moment. All the electronics are malfunctioning, the doors and windows are all locked, we can't leave the fifth floor, and to make everything worse half the staff is fucking all over the place." "What?" "Richard is like fifty now and encouraged Rick and Jessica a threesome with him. Spencer and Diana are destroying everything in sight. Gina and Silvia are taking turns with Greg, and Troy won't stop touching himself. "There's nothing we can do. I am not about to get between Spencer and Diana if that's where you were going with this." "Of course not," she snapped angrily, "Look we need get out of his building now." "You just said everything is locked." "I know. And just to make matters even worse, none of the windows are breaking." "Are you fucking kidding me?" "We've tried everything, they won't break." "Damn, it looks like we'll need Spencer then." "Why?" "He is stronger than he looks. He completely destroyed two sinks and tore a door of its hinges without even trying. Maybe Rick is super strong too. We need them both." "I hate to do this to you, but you need to get him away from Diana. Do you understand?" "Unfortunately, I do." "I'll handle Rick." "Good luck." "Good luck." As Jacob ran around the broken office, he saw a muscular body lying unconscious amid a stack of bodies. Closer examination showed the body was female; Anna, unless another woman suddenly became a bodybuilder. He saw young man with a lean and muscular body thrusting his hips into the anus of an elven woman. Three statuesque women huddled together in a circle, attempting to tie together torn clothes to protect their modesty. Searching the entire floor for the thick red head turned out much harder than imagined. He wasn't anywhere in sight. Spencer was a screamer, and Jacob couldn't hear anything resembling the man's screams. He heard the voices of others having sex, but not Spencer. Refusing to give up, Jacob started running. He fell again and again, due to the lack of coordination, but he constantly rose to his feet. After half an hour of searching he saw them. Spencer had Diana wrapped in his meaty arms; he was walking around, bumping into walls, plants, and even other people. When he stopped it was only to destroy a wall in fashion. The monster pinned Diana against a wall, and began thrusting the entire length of his phallus into her, putting his entire weight into each thrust. On the fourth thrust, the muscles in his ass tensed momentarily and then expanded in one jaw dropping moment. He shoved her right through the wall, slammed her into the ground and kept thrusting away. She screamed in agony, but he didn't listen. All Spencer wanted was his prize. His body began to swell, either due to receiving a pump or another growth sequence, and he thrust into Diana with such force that something actually cracked. She screamed, he roared into her face and deposited the largest load in his life into her. Eventually he pulled out of her nearly dead body and walked away. "S...Spencer, um are uh are you..." "I'm great man." "What about her?" "She'll be alright. Just needs some time to recover and what not." "She isn't fine. There is no way in hell is fine. I heard something snap, she might have broken a bone or something. You almost killed her." "Dude relax, Diana and I have a special relationship. She loves pain. Both giving and receiving. Yeah I'll admit I was more forceful that I should have been, but when she wakes she'll want more." "I don't believe you, nobody could possibly enjoy that." Spencer gave a smirk, "Diana enjoys it. This is what I mean by you're too intense. You can't believe that somebody likes rough sex. It's too weird, too out of the ordinary for you. That's probably why you haven't finished transforming." "What are you talking about?" "I'll be honest with you. When I was a kid, I loved watching wrestling. I wanted to be big and strong like all the muscular superstars. Then one day, I saw a different kind of wrestler, the big power lifter type, with mountains of muscle hidden under thick layers of fat. At first I thought they were gross, but when I watched them throw around the bodybuilder types like rag dolls, my mind changed real quick. I've always wanted to be massive, but it just wasn't in my genes. I thought the fitness model look was pretty okay, so I settle for that. Then today happened and now I'm huge, just like I always wanted." "What about the red hair?" "The hair makes me look like a beast, a wild dangerous beast, which I am. I got the body, the face, the hair, and the genitals of a muscle beast." "It isn't possib...." "You're right it isn't possible, but it happened. Just think about it for a moment. Williams was an ancient dinosaur, now he looks a model and is probably younger than either of us. Anna over there has a muscle fetish, in case you were wondering. Almost all the women have D cups or bigger. All the guys have huge dicks. Do you know how much men and women care about tits and dicks? I wanted a large beastly body, now I have it. I wanted a bigger dick, now I have it." "It can't be that simple." "Of course it can, at least today it is. So then Jacob what is your fantasy?" "What?" "Come on man, don't play dumb. What is your fantasy? You like being tall, don't you? You believe in the height, because there are plenty of people who are 6'10, 6'11, and seven feet even. It's unusual, sure, but it happens." "That's crazy, you are crazy." "Dude yesterday we were body twins, 5'10 at 180lbs. Today I'm at least 6'5 at like 400lbs, and you're 6'10 still at 180lbs. It's time to give into your fantasy. You only have one chance so don't mess it up. Come on man grow." "What about Rick he was 6'4, why would he shrink down to 5'5?" "It was probably to see a ‘how the other half lives’ type of thing. The guy is wider than I am, and it would look amazing at his previous height." "But he shrank." "Yeah, maybe for the shock value; it adds to the fantasy." "Explain that." "Okay. It's like short people wanting to be tall. As insane as it may seem to you, there are tall people who want to be short. So anyways if Rick had kept his height, he'd be scary or disturbing as fuck to people not into muscle. As a short guy, he's not so intimidating or shocking. Now stay with me for a bit. Take a group of people and tell them to elect a leader, chances are they'll look to the tallest person in the room for leadership. People gravitate towards tall people, because tall people warrant respect. A similar thing occurs with muscle mass. Athletes, dancers, models and various other occupations go hand in hand with desirable amounts of muscle; most people think bodybuilders are over the top and don't take their passion or sport seriously. Rick wanted to put himself in a position where people didn't respect or take him seriously." "Now you are just fucking with me." "No it's great. I saw Richard trying to snag a threesome with Jessica and Rick. Richard is like 6'2 maybe 6'3 and buff, like a smaller version of me. He's like a stereotypical old muscle guy, thick arms, chest, legs, and gut, and hairy too. The dwarf was being all submissive, agreed right away with everything he said. Something about Rick was off; I couldn't look away from the site. Rick was eating Jessica, and Richard was about to stick his cock in Rick's ass. This is where shit gets crazy. Rick's ass cheeks are spread out, when suddenly he rolls away, and knocks Richard to the ground. He starts whispering in the old man's ear, next thing I know Richard is his hands and knees begging Rick to be gentle. He wasn't." "So his fantasy was to be short and wide, so he could dominate tall people?" "All people, but especially tall people." "That can't be real." "It is real just accept it," the giant starts bouncing his massive meaty pecs. Dozens upon dozens of pounds of thick muscles began jumping up and jump menacingly. Suddenly he went into a most muscular pose. Despite the thick layers of fat, all the muscles were clearly visible; his upper body nearly doubled in size. Still flexing, "This is real dude, now it's time to get into your fantasy." "No, you are just trying to rationalize something that can't be explained." "You still think I'm lying about Diana, don't you?" "Well some nasty bruises are starting to develop around her vagina." "I'll show you that I didn't force anything on her." Spencer swaggered past Jacob to Anna. During the course of the conversation she regained consciousness. He supported her head and whispered into her ear. Then he positioned himself at her vaginal lips; no foreplay or anything. His penis was still coated with his and Diana's cum, he began thrusting his hips. Gently, after a few minutes he became more forceful, though still relatively gentle. "See dude, we've been going at it for almost twenty minutes and I haven't broken anything. I'm not smashing her into anything, because she isn't into that. Diana over there is a masochist, she fucking loves pain. It's that simple." Not wanting to watch his friend have sex Jacob left the area. He watched his fellow workers, even the ones trying to fashion themselves something to cover their nudity, seemed happy. Nearly everyone wore a smile. Some women even complemented each other on their new appearances. Jacob stopped to ask several about their transformations. They repeated the less graphic details of Spencer's explanation almost perfectly. Jacob began to believe them, but a sliver of reluctance refused to leave his brain, so a coworker directed him to Rick and Richard. Rick sat on the edge of the conference table, legs hanging off the side. Lying on his lap was a cum covered Richard, ass hanging out in the air. How the table managed not to tip was astonishing on its own. Rick was tiny, maybe even less than 5'5. His chest was unquestionably larger than he was tall. Unlike Spencer, Rick had very little if any fat on his body. Beneath every square inch of his skin, was probably a solid foot of muscle. Every muscle and vein was overly pronounced, ready at any moment to rip apart his skin. The simple act of breathing, made it seem like his muscles would rupture the skin. "It looks like we have guest, and you didn't say hello boy," said Rick. "I'm sorry daddy," replied Richard in an almost fearful tone. "Sorry isn't good enough boy," shouted Rick. He raised his monstrously large right hand, flexed his arm for the guest, then opened his palm and spanked Richard. The sound was truly deafening. It shook all the muscles in Richards’s ass cheeks, it shook the table, and it parted the air to generate powerful currents. It was unbelievably painful, like a concentrated car collision in the form of a single palm. Jacob noticed that Richard was crying, but he also noticed that ejaculate was dripping down Rick's inhuman left quad. "Now what do you say boy?" asked Rick with a stern tone. "Hello Mr. Blount," said Richard in between pants. "Hello" "Good boy. Oh sorry Jacob, I'm not taking to you, I'm talking to little Dick here." "I wanted to talk to you about the recent transformations." "Ah right away. Dick give daddy a kiss and then be on your way." Timidly, the 50 year old man reached up and kissed his master of the lips. Then hairy beast jumped to his legs and began walking away, but not before Rick could deliver another spank. Richard jumped up in surprise and rushed out of the room. "What the fuck was that?" "That was my fantasy." "A mock incestual relationship with a man twenty years older than you? You sick fuck." The miniature hulk gave a hearty laugh and showed his brilliant white teeth. As he sucked in air, his diagram expanded, which in turn expanded his overly large torso even farther. For a second Jacob could have sworn he actually saw ruptures in the skin. "Calm down. That's just the dynamic in this relationship. You said it yourself; he is twenty years older than me." "Was that his fantasy?" "Yeah I think it was. His fantasy probably didn't involve so much spanking or rough sex, but the premise is the same. He supposedly wanted to be the dominate male partner, and in his mind that meant being older, 6'3, and 320lbs. Unfortunately, it takes more than height, muscle, and age to be dominate. It's a state of mind and he didn't realize or have that." "And you did?" "I had before the transformation." "Then why tran..." "Transform all. It's simple really. I thought it would be fun. Little guy bossing around the big dominant alpha male or bringing the stuck up bitch down a peg or two." "You are hardly little." "Well in terms of height I am. The muscles are bonus. They can add or take away from the situation. Look man I don't know why this happened, but believe me I am enjoying it. I'd rather not explain to my roommates why I'm suddenly 5'3 and weight 450lbs. However, I wouldn't complain about this being a permanent change." "Okay say I've accepted this whole fantasy coming to real life, how can you possibly weight 450lbs? There would be no way for you to move." "The weight is just a guess, going off my personal fantasy of course, and I don't really care for the science or magic behind it. So tell me, if you believe why haven't you transformed?" "Because I don't have a fantasy in mind." "Well when you do, I'd love to see it. Dick, come back here," he smiles, "In case you still have doubts. Dick walked back into the room and immediately took his position on Rick's lap. Rick placed his hand on Dick's lower back. It was out of proportion to the mini hulk's body, two maybe three times too large for his frame. He removed the hand and curled all but one finger. It alone was significantly larger a jumbo sized hotdog. He took the finger and started playing with the Dick's ass. "You want to leave don't you? This is what I was talking about, the mentality to dominate. Of course I could never dominate you into having sex, but little Dick here loves it. His fantasy isn't to dominate, it's to be dominated. He just gave himself a bigger body so his daddy could enjoy it more. Isn't that right little Dick?" "Yes, sir." "Good, now then." There was no warning. Rick shoved his muscle bound finger into Dick's entrance, and forcefully began exploring. Dick's entire body started bucking wildly. Rick placed his left arm around Dick's back and slipped his right calf over Dicks flapping hair legs to regain control. Rick applied more force to his finger; Dick responded accordingly but couldn't move at all due to Rick's pin. The master eventually removed his left and to grab some cloth behind him. Then wadded the cloth into a ball and stuffed it into his toy's mouth. "Will he be alright?" "Naturally, this is our fantasy," the mini hulk somehow managed to stick in yet another finger. Jacob turned away, "How strong are you?" "Why are you changing the subject?" "Trisha and I wanted to get some muscle before attempting to knock down a door or something." "Yeah she told me. It didn't work, not matter how hard I pushed it didn't budge." "Maybe if you and Spencer tried together." Rick momentarily pulled out of Dick and tossed the big man on the floor. The paper skinned hulk walked over the east wall of the conference room and rammed his forefinger through the drywall. To really drive the point home he started punching through the material, taking out massive chunks with each strike. With the last punch, he left his arm in the wall and started walking. His arm tore away at the building, as the man walked around the room. There was no resistance to be offered by the drywall, none at all. Casually, he returned to his sitting position on the conference table and waited for Dick to resume his position. "Listen Jacob, I just punched through the wall like it was tissue paper. Those doors and windows aren't gonna break anytime soon. You know, I'm amazed you can talk so casually as I finger a guy right in front of you." "You act like you've done it before." "Dozens of times." "Ordinary this would disturb me, but for some reason today it does not." "That's what Trisha said earlier, before joining in." "So the three of you?" "No, little Dick here strictly prefers dick. I on the other hand, am more flexible. Speaking of which little Dick here is nice and loose again. So unless you want..." "I'm going." Jacob walked out of the room, but caught a full view the reflection of a mirror. Dick was on the floor, Rick was plowing him hard. So hard, that with each thrust Dick was actually pushed forward several inches. 'That is going to lead to serious rug burn,' thought Jacob. Jacob continued walking around the floor. Most people had settled down, and some had even returned to working. He found Spencer still having 'gentle' sex with Anna; despite her own impressive size and power she appeared small and frail wrapped in his large arms. Diana was still half dead. He continued to wander around and by accident found the new Troy, a perfect replica of a monstrously vascular comic book character. Like Williams, he appeared to fantasize about a male model body, though with an extra thirty or so pounds of muscle. "I see you are enjoying yourself." "Yeah man." "How come you aren't out with everyone else?" "Jacob, I'm so ripped and flexible now that I tomorrow I won't have a reason to leave my house." "Assuming the transformation is permanent." "I know what's behind it, and I'll make sure the transformation is permanent." Jacob couldn't believe his hears. Troy knew the secret and instead of telling anybody he was caressing his abs and flicking a long hard nipple. "How do you know? What is going on here?" "Actually I'm not entirely sure, but I have a pretty good idea." "Well hurry up." "It's Eleanor." "What?" "Dude she is a witch or some kind of reality warper." "Well given all the crazy shit that has happened in the last few hours, I can believe in witches and reality warper, but what makes you so sure she is behind this?" "I've worked in this building for the last fifteen years, and during those fifteen years anybody who managed to piss that woman off, suddenly disappeared or has their life ruined." "Well I've worked here for two years, and Eleanor is definitely intimidating, but I've never seen hear actively go after somebody." "You've just never seen her work. She is the receptionist, okay. When some cocky little shit walks in, she is the first person they deal with. When an arrogant business person or lawyer walks in, she has to deal with them. All she has to do is stare at them with her cold icy eyes, and suddenly all the bravado, all the swagger, the self-importance, it all goes away. The most powerful and influential people in the city are completely terrified of her. The mayor's assistants don't even come here anymore; they send the interns. Speaking of which, do you remember Christine Hath?" "She was the girl who only showed up for one day of her internship." "Yeah, that's because on that day she pissed off Eleanor. From what I heard, Eleanor was going through some documents on a tablet, when Christine showed up with a manila folder. Eleanor took the folder and went through the documents, and found a couple that needed to be signed. She told the girl, 'You need to get these signed,'' and handed the folder back. The girl was like, 'I'm done for the day. You get them signed,' and then took the folder and slipped it between Eleanor's fingers and the tablet, before basically skipping away. The day afterwards human resources gets a call, Christine's mother saying her daughter wouldn't be able to continue her internship due to medical problems. Last month, Melinda apparently saw her at the high school. Her face was covered in a thick layer of makeup and looked really bumpy. Mel tried to talk to her, but she ran away; a student told her Christine had suddenly developed huge boils all over her face and body that refused to go away." "Well everything that's happened today, I guess that's believable. Anyways why are you so certain that Eleanor, with all her magical reality warping powers, will allow you to keep your body after today? Or even live?" "Because I can’t lose all this." He stood up and began posing. His body was simply amazing; hard and round in the all the right places. His arms looked like somebody stuffed in two hemispheres and some lamb chops in a peach colored bag. His waist was either too small, or his pecs and legs too large. Though the most impressive thing about his body wasn't the muscle mass or the shear vascularity, it was the penis. Probably eight inches long and five inches around, flaccid; most likely the largest in the office when erect. "My wife is going to love playing with her new toy." "Yeah. Well good luck with getting the transformation to keep." Jacob left Troy's office before the well-endowed meat bag could begin growing erect. He wandered around the office some more, to find Spencer having anal sex with Anna. Her body was covered in his ejaculate; she moaned in pleasure as she attempted to meet his thrusts. Back in the conference room, Dick was lying on his back, legs pointed straight up in the air. Rick was on his knees for once, brutally shoving a thick log into Dick's anus. Jacob eventually returned to his office, and noticed there was no blood on the floor or on the doorway. "I see you're back," said a woman. Jacob turned around, nobody was in sight. He looked around for several seconds for the source of the icy voice. Suddenly he felt a cold finger touch his lower back; he turned to find Eleanor staring up at him. She was completely unchanged from earlier. "So, are you a witch or what?" She smiled, it was beautiful and apocalyptic at the same it. "The former." "Are you responsible for this?" "I am." "Why did you do this?" "Boredom." "Boredom." "How? How is any of this even possible?" "Well as you now know I am a witch. Despite my appearance, I am actually 200 years old, and for a magic user age is power. Of course old age also leads to wisdom, which typically equates to power if not versatility. So anyways, I used my magic to enter every one's mind and pulled out their physical fantasy and then brought it to fruition." "Is it really that simple?" "Heavens no. I had to use my own power to enter the minds of twenty different people and search for each person's unique fantasy. To build the fantasies, I had to use my magic and the ambient magic in the environment to convert mass from one form to another. To top it all off, I decided to give you all the power. That way the transformations were gradual and more entertaining. Of course my explanation is still too simple." "So you did this all for your own entertainment?" "I had to. Only a fifth of the workforce showed up today. I didn't have anything to do, or anything to pass the time with." "Why didn't you just use the internet?" "I don't think you understand me. I'm a witch, why would I waste my time watching kittens play with yarn, when I can do all this." "Surely you are abusing your power." "I invented the concept of being old and not giving a damn about anything that I don't care about. Plus, I'm the leading expert in human, beast, and demon transformation, so I can pretty much do whatever I want." "Which is transforming people into their personal fantasies for your amusement." "That was just because I was because I had nothing to do. Besides nobody got hurt or died or anything. And because I'm in such a good mood today, I decided to work a little extra magic. So anybody who wants to keep their new appearance may do so." "So you can make the changes permanent." "Yes I can, but usually I don't. You see the world has changed greatly over the past few decades. If I leave you all like this, people will ask questions. Imaging going to get your license renewed and explaining why you are a full foot taller. Or Williams explaining why he is twenty-one instead of seventy. So because you all provided so much entertainment today, I will cast a spell on you. Every person you think of will have their memories of you rewritten to believe that you grew into your current form. This spell is very powerful, and it will change your appearance in any photograph or video, anything with your image will change." "That seems too good to be true." "It's not. The spell will only change memories and images, but everything else will be as it was. For example, Rick is now 5’3; there is no way for him to reach the gas or brake pedals on his truck. Changing memories doesn't help the fact that Williams is now twenty-one, or that Trisha is now twenty-eight year old Mulan with E cups, or that Richard made himself fifty. The birthdays don't match up; if they want to keep their bodies that means giving up their old lives and starting anew. Fortunately the rest of you didn't change your ages, so a few memories switches will fix everything." "Okay, so I've finally accepted this whole fantasy coming to real life thing, but I haven't shrank yet." "Yes I can see that. You were satisfied with your appearance, and only wanted to know how it felt to be taller. The magic took an extreme effect because you only wanted one trait changed. You wanted to be six feet even, but the magic added an extra tens. Tell me; were you comfortable in your old body?" "Yes." "Are you comfortable in your new body?" "Not right now. I mean if I had time to adjust to my longer limbs, maybe I would be." "Would you be comfortable in any body?" "I guess, eventually?" "Well then you won’t mind if I take this opportunity to change your body myself." She raises her hands, white smoke begins to swirl around them, and then it happened. Jacob grew another two inches taller, bringing him to an even seven feet tall. His clothes exploded off his body, as the meaty muscles under his skin expanded. They grew and grew, until he felt bloated. However he wasn't bloated. He was completely shredded; every muscle group was developed to the point where it prominent poked out of his body. His chest alone was easily the size of his desk; the skin even matched the brown shade of the wood. His traps were unbelievably high, almost to the height of his head. His arms weren't even recognizable as arms anymore. They were earthy mountains, covered with trenches and a vast network of train tracks. His legs were, naturally larger than is arms, and followed the same structure, but to a more extreme level. The witch summoned a large mirror. Jacob saw his body and jumped back in shock. He didn't even look seven feet tall, he looked eight or nine. His chest was unquestionably the largest chest on the planet. The six pack he had worked for, was still there, only larger and with deeper cuts. The most shocking thing was his genitals; large round potatoes with a fittingly large tube steak. Once he got over the shock of his body, he looked into this face. Same dark brown hair and ears, but everything had changed slightly. His nose was straighter, his jawline board and more angular, his eyes were amber colored with a gold ring around the edge. "What did you do?" he asked in his new baritone voice. "You said you would be comfortable in any body, so I gave you a new one." "I thought this was supposed to be my fantasy." "Well I decided to make it your wife's." "She isn't into this kind of thing." "I noticed. She liked your old body, but did desire a bit more muscle and height. The magic was once again extreme in your case." "Will you change me back?" "No. At least not right away. You said yourself that would probably be comfortable in any body, so try it out for a few days. If it doesn't work, I will return you to your original body." "Um, okay." "Good. Now then I've decided to close up early. You'll find a set of extra clothes in your bottommost left drawer. Now if you excuse me, I have to inform some others of my decision. By the way can I trust you to keep this a secret?" "Sure." "Good then I will leave your memories intact. Bye now." "Bye." Jacob checked his drawer and true to the witch’s word was a set of clothes: a button down shirt, briefs, shorts, and a pair of sandals. Jacob almost tore the briefs as he attempted to raise them up beyond his quads, small tears actually did appear in the fabric. It was stretched tightly in all directions everywhere, except at his waist. The shorts were easier to put on they slipped almost perfectly over his quads. He pulled a string on the waist band and tied it, then tucked over two feet of excess string into his shorts. After several minutes he found, the shirt would only button enough to cover his abs, leaving his desk like pecs exposed to the whole world. His arms, though covered, might as well have been naked. As he left his personal office, he noticed how his pecs bounced with each step. They jiggled and flexed, the veins danced across the twin surfaces. He found his entire body seemed to have a muscle seizure with every step. The striations grew and deepened, the veins sometimes didn’t stop popping out even after he stopped moving. Jacob was so in awe of his body that he didn’t notice that the entire fifth floor was completely clean and fixed. No papers thrown about, no toppled plants, no broken walls, absolutely nothing out of order except large muscles and big breasts. He found Spencer and the pair walked outside, complementing each other’s new bodies. As they approached the Subaru, Jacob remembered something the witch said. Everyone’s memories had been altered, but not the life decisions he had made. Jacob and Spencer stared at the Subaru and wondered how one, let alone both of them would fit inside.

So this is one I had posted on the old forum. I lost all of my other stories, but I found this one and figured it still deserved to live on. Hope you enjoy it. Being a bartender actually turned out to be a pretty good day job for a witch. Mixing drinks wasn’t too different from mixing potions, and placing my bar in a college town meant I had plenty to keep me interested. There’d been plenty of times I’d used concoctions to alter people’s evenings, but it was always in good fun. Love potions were extremely easy to make, and it’s not like these kids weren’t coming out and getting drunk in order to get some anyway. Now, when you’ve been around as long as I have (about 500 years), you’ve seen it all: peace, war, love, heartbreak, fear, joy, hate, sorrow…you name it. I was convinced that the human race was nothing more than something to play with and profit off of, and nothing was going to change my mind. I suppose you could say that I’m pretty powerful as far as witches come, but seeing as how I hadn’t seen another witch in about a century, who could say? We basically kept to ourselves, and it’s not like anyone knew I was a witch. Witches don’t age like humans, but we look like them, so to anybody else, I just looked like a tall slender brunette in her late 20’s/early 30’s. Being 5’10 let me be kinda busty, and I had fun flirting with the boys. I’d slept with one or two just for fun, but when you’ve been around for 500 years, it’s hard to impress me. The one thing I had never done though, was actually alter a person’s physical composition. It was a hard spell, and people tend to go crazy with it. With modern technology, people can have plastic surgery and alter themselves all they like. That’s not my job and I’d decided to keep it that way…until… It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the bar was completely empty. It was kind of strange for there not to be a single soul in sight, but with midterms taking place, business picked up during the weekend as people drowned their sorrows, but during the week it was pretty dull. Then, in walks this guy. He seemed pretty unphenomenal. 5’7, probably 130-140lbs if I had to guess. Kinda skinny and a bit on the short side, but he had a handsome enough face. He was in a short-sleeved red button down shirt and khaki shorts. He had short brown hair and as he sat at the bar and looked up at me, I was shocked by his beautiful crystal blue eyes. As he sat down at the bar, he sighed and kept his head down. He was obviously having a bad day, so I tried to be cheerful. “What can I get for ya, sugar?” I asked. He kept staring at the bar, which was a waste since his eyes were the only exceptional physical quality he had. He kept drawing circles on the wood with his right middle finger, pondering. After about a minute, he looked up and just said “Something strong. I’ve had it pretty rough recently, and I need to either get drunk or find a magic solution to all my problems, so unless you’ve got something like that, I’ll be getting drunk.” He chuckled, and for some reason I thought that was the most endearing thing I had ever heard. The boy was cute, and couldn’t have been older than 21 or 22. I checked his ID, and sure enough, he’d just turned 21 a couple months before. I decided I’d see if I could help him out. I’m a witch, and he did ask for a magic solution after all. I leaned over the bar towards him and asked “What kind of problems ya got?” As he looked up towards me, his eyes stopped on my exposed cleavage before making their way to meet mine. “Lost my last two girls to…” he paused and sighed again, “…bigger guys” I made an audible “awwww” sound as he said that. I’d seen it in action. Tall beefy guys are definitely more successful at the bar than those like this guy of the shrimpier variety. It was something even I understood. Bigger guys were more attractive. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for this kid. He was kind of like a sad puppy, sitting in front of me, begging for a treat. I recalled his name from his ID. “Tyler, I’ve got something for you. It might not solve all of your problems, but it’ll make you feel better.” I know that I had pledged not to alter people, but for some reason my heart just went out to this guy. He was so pitiful looking that I just knew a bit of size would boost his confidence enough to really turn it all around for him. I walked to the bar and began mixing the concoction. I hadn’t made this particular potion in a few hundred years, so maybe I added in a bit too much of something or another, but it didn’t matter. The liquid was dark brown and looked like beer, but it smelled so sweet. I only poured him a shot glass full and sat it in front of him. “Try this.” Is all I said. He grabbed the glass and threw it back without question, and immediately the changes began to take place. He sat the glass down hard, and I knew he was feeling it, too. He shut his eyes and put his hands on the bar. They expanded and his fingers thickened. It spread up his arms and veins became visible as they thickened and lengthened. The short sleeves of his shirt filled up with his newly expanded beefy biceps. He threw his neck back and it thickened, too. He grunted and it sounded as though his voice was deepening. I had forgotten that the spell did that, too. His shoulders broadened and his chest heaved out. It grew so big so quickly that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a button shot off of the shirt as such a high velocity it shattered a bottle behind the counter. The loud POP of the button snapping off and the shattering of the glass nearly gave me a heart attack, but Tyler didn’t notice at all. His beefy pecs were now exposed as the shirt was opened for all to see. I peered over the bar to get a look at the rest of him. His stomach had surely tightened into a six-pack and his shorts were looking strained as his legs grew thicker and longer. I began to hear all sorts of ripping sounds as seams broke on his shorts and his sneakers. He shifted in his seat as his package grew, too. I’d added a bit extra to that portion of the spell. Well-hung men get places in life, ya know. The growth happens fairly quickly, and soon he’s brought his head back and he makes eye contact with me. He stands up and he’s now a bit taller than I am. I’d put him at about 5’11-6’0ft and a solid 180lbs now. I glance down at his crotch and see a visible outline of a sausage dick. Not bad! I think to myself. “This is amazing! What did you do?” Tyler is speaking so loudly, and his new deep voice is so…sexy. No, I’m not about to make a move on this guy…but maybe doing a bit of…quality control, wouldn’t be so bad… I’m having my own internal struggle, but I manage to reply, “You asked for a solution to your problems, so there ya go!” I wink at him and push my chest out a bit. He frantically scans the bar and shouts “I…I need MORE! I NEED YOU TO GIVE ME MORE! I’M NOT BIG ENOUGH YET!” His dick pulses in his shorts, a vein pops out on his neck, and a wet spot starts to form on his crotch. “Slow down tiger! You’re a pretty big boy already, and besides, I don’t think you’d be able to pay for this stuff if I charged you for it.” I try to sound seductive. I don’t know why I can’t control myself, but I want him so badly at this point I can hardly stand it. I’m not sure how he takes it, but he leans in to whisper into my ear “Oh, I can pay for it…” I melted right there. His deep, smooth voice was so sexy. He reached a huge hand up to my face and stroked it with the back of his hand so gently. I reached out and put my hand on one of his huge, meaty pecs. It was solid as a rock. I quickly turned and went back to the drinks. I made my way across the bar, hearing glass break under my shoes from the bottle that broke earlier. I didn’t care. I made a whole big glass of the potion and he was reaching for it before I had even finished it. I handed it to him and he chugged the entire glass. As soon as he finished, he threw it to the floor, shattering the glass. It was then that it hit me…I’ve literally made a huge mistake. ”RRRRRRRWWWWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!” is all he can manage to say. He stands up and holds his arms out. He’s already showing signs of being obscenely huge. Again, his hands swell to a size big enough to palm a basketball. His arms explode in size, his sleeves tearing like tissue. He flexes those beautiful massive biceps. They’ve got to be over 20 inches. His traps swell up and his bull neck expands even further. His chest and back swell simultaneously, and I duck under the bar just in time as the rest of his shirt buttons fly off like bullets, striking glass and wood, and piercing into the wall behind me. He inches taller towards the ceiling. His thighs swell to look like cedars, and the push out his now engorged melon-sized ballsack and still growing dick. You can physically see it through the remnants of his shorts. A look of discomfort spreads across his face and one of his huge hands reaches down and tears away the rest of the fabric surrounding it, unleashing the beast. His huge dick is oozing semen. It runs down the long, thick shaft and begins coating his balls that are still physically churning and growing. It then begins dripping onto the floor. He continues to expand in every direction for a few more moments before it finally slows to a stop. “Oh my god…” is all we both say. We’re both shaking and horny. He’s a 7ft tall behemoth, and he’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. His still beautiful striking blue eyes meet mine, and he reaches across the bar, picks me up gently, and lays be across the top of it. I know he’s going to fuck me right on my own bar, and I want it. He’s so huge he can straddle the bar effortlessly. As he does, his huge dick and ballsack spread across the wood, and I’m so turned on I can’t stand it. My panties are soaked and all I want is for him to be inside me. I’m a witch, and I know I’m probably the only one who can take it all. It’s got to be a foot and a half long, and it’s as thick as a fucking soda can. Neither of us can say anything, but we’re both breathing heavily as he makes his way towards me. He reaches around me and tears my top off. He then reaches down and rips my jeans like they’re tissue paper and removes my panties the same way. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced. He fondles my huge breasts with such power and yet such delicacy. Already coated in his own precum as lubrication, he makes his way inside of me. It’s physically hot and literally the most filling experience I could imagine. Me, lying across the bar naked and him, behemoth straddling it, we make love. We made passionate, lustful, beautiful love right there. He reached his hands around either side of the bar and gripped it tightly, crushing the wood as he finally pushed his entire dick into me. I moaned loudly and he made a sound of astonishment. As he continued to fuck me, he got faster and more aggressive. I looked up at his huge biceps and saw that he began to swell yet again. I felt his dick engorge even more within my body. How the hell this is happening I have no idea, but I’m so turned on by it. He doesn’t grow much, but it’s noticeable for sure, even for his size. He roars again as his head balloons and he begins to fill me with his semen. There’s so much that my stomach swells. It fills me up and begins to dump out of my vagina all over the bar. There’s so much semen that it pours down the sides of the bar and coats the floor. We both breathe in sync as he continues to move in and out, up and down. It was a ride like neither of us had ever experienced. I thought for sure that after all of that, he’d be finished, but he doesn’t go soft and instead repeats from step one. We fucked four times, and as he moved, there was an audible sound of us moving through the slimy semen everywhere. It was incredibly hot. After his fourth orgasm he finally pulls out and lays back across the bar himself. How in the world it supported him I will never know. I couldn’t sit up. He eventually stood up, leaned over me, and gave me the gentlest kiss on the lips I have ever received. I grabbed his face and returned the favor more violently. After our Kiss, he made his way to the door, and stooping down and turning sideways, made his way out onto campus completely covered in his own semen and butt naked. I admired his thick ass as he made his way out. Still not a soul in sight, I slid myself off the bar and into a puddle of semen. The bar was damaged, there was glass everywhere, and I was a mess. A quick spell would get all of those things in order before customers came that evening. ”That was fun. I should do that more often.” I thought to myself as I cleaned up the bar.

The first time it ever happened, would be back in my senior year of highschool, just getting ready to leave for college, in the back seat of her car..I'd never learned to drive, not that high up on my list of things to do really, not when there was time to be working out! I was a beast back then...so much more now but I don't wanna get ahead of myself. 6ft, 225lbs, I was a beefy jock then, and Jessie was the envy of all her peers being with me, but it took her forever and I mean FOREVER to finally cross that home base so to speak, I was a blue balled testosterone filled beast from the months and months of buildup, she always said she was terrified of getting pregnant, she was afraid it would hurt you name it! But finally neither of us could hold off anymore and after graduation that was it! the two of us grinding against one another madly trying to take off enough clothing in the cramped back seat of her little prius to feel skin on skin! At last my thick fingers got her bra off, and her little hands, yeah she was only about 5'5 so tiny I felt IMMENSE for sure, my thick 10incher causing her to gasp..fuck I'll always remember that gasp! She wasn't even sure she could take it, the look on her face as i slowly guided a rubber onto it, they tell you how to do it in health class but never mention how TIGHT it was and that was the biggest size they had! I'll admit, it wasn't long, we were only going at it for maybe 10minutes before she started to just shudder, her own orgasm just too intense for her to even go on, asking me to pull out, begging me to and it was at that point I lost it and I started to cum but so hard...harder than I ever have before! I could literally feel her getting tighter around me as I felt a snap...the first of many times this would happen...the condom being burst open as she started to moan and cry out telling me it felt like I was punching her pussy with my cum, how HOT it was, how HEAVY it was! and it was just filling her! My cock just wouldn't stop, and I couldn't pull it out, it was literally growing with every throb! along with the rest of me! I had no idea what was happening at that time, but now I know it all too well, I was growing as I pumped her full of my seed, that first growth spurt I had to have put on 50lbs of muscle and just over 6inches of height. You don't have any idea what that's like! Honestly, I kept cumming for MINUTES it was the most surreal thing I'd ever felt, as my barely clothed body started to spasm and throb in time with my flexing cock as she started to scream out about how BIG I was getting, that's just it, she was the first one to notice my growth..obviously. The growth starting at the base of my cock and stretching up my torso as my abs started to flex and swell growing firmer and heavier as they got more defined with each throb! the thick veins moving up my abs to my pecs which would heave thicker and heavier with each breath! I could feel my shoulders stretching out my shirt, my loosened tie from the grad party digging into my neck as it thickened and bulged! My back up against the roof as I felt the already cramped car getting more confined! My hands were getting bigger and I was holding her down onto that beast cock of mine, my body on autopilot as I wanted nothing more than to get every drop of my cum into her little spasming body, by this point she was pushed into her third orgasm and her eyes were literally rolling into the back of her head. I was hearing the metal of the flimsy little car start to buckle as my beefy shoulders kept swelling and stretching against it and I could see her just about to pass out and I swear it took...it took every bit of my strength at the time to pull my cock out of her, still so hard, still throbbing, still spurting with my thick load and there was just so much of it! I was already big, but I kept struggling to pull out, and there was more, and MORE my heavy balls slapping her ass, hanging down against my thighs as I pulled the full 13inch prick out and I spurted up and down her bare stomach with the rest of the load as I collapsed ontop of her, this hulking sweaty cum soaked beast! I realized later that I could have done her a lot of harm if I didn't manage to fight it, and pull out in time, her petite frame couldn't take too much more of my growing! We came to a few hours later, her father knocking on the window MORE than a little upset, but as I stood up, and got out of the car, my pants around my knees, my half hard cock hanging just about that low he found himself at a loss for words, staring at his cum soaked daughter, who was rubbing her stomach and letting out blissful moans. I got to see myself in the reflection off the window and I was..I was immense! staring down at her father who I'd been eye to eye with just earlier this day, I struggled to do up my pants, my thick muscled ass stopping any such hopes as not even my boxers could get over that bulging bubble butt, I resigned myself to wrapping the blanket she had under us around my waist. My parents took me to the doctor the next morning, growing that much had them terrified, but the doctors were just as lost as I was as to why it went down. I remember stepping onto that scale as the nurse weighed me, his eyes bugging out as much as my parents as it read 285 pounds, I felt IMMENSE! staring at myself in the exam room mirror, no fucking hope of the clothing fitting me it was amazing! Still, at the time, that wasn't the weirdest part, not by a long shot, I should have been upset or wanted answers but I was enjoying it far too much, and then even more strange, I got a text just a few hours later though, from Jessie, telling me she was pregnant. The doctor said easily a month in as well apparently. She was sending me message after message assuring me she never cheated, that she thought the results were wrong, and that I didn't have to worry, all that and I couldn't reply, just speechless. But instead of being terrified, I was there, at the doctors office, my heart pounding my blood pumping, my muscles tensing I was...I was turned on! The nurse, his name was Greg, was watching my reaction, just me and him in the tiny doctor's office and he noticed the throbbing bulge. He was cute too, up until that point I didn't even really notice. He was almost as large as I was, clearly took care of himself, filled out the scrubs better than anyone I've seen before or since. He let out a chuckle, god Greg had a good laugh, and he pat my shoulder asking if I've gotten a kinky text or something, and I just told him I got my girlfriend pregnant. He seemed confused especially about my reaction and to be honest I couldn't explain it either! The room at this point was filled with the musky smell of my sweat and precum, I was soaking through my pants, and it's obvious now that my body was pumping out pheromones trying to lure in another 'victim' to knock up, but at the time I had no idea, but Greg definitely was feeling it. His nervous, thick hand pressing against my shoulder as he tried to offer me comfort for this pressing time, that hand moving down my muscled pecs, brushing over my sweatsoaked abs as it rest on my bulge, feeling it throb and pulse as I let out this guttural groan and another burst of pheromones. Greg felt them wash over him as he started to soak through his scrubs, his hands both trembling as they opened up my pants, and I didn't stop him, I'd never once felt this way before but my body NEEDED release. He dropped to his knees and slowly stroked my thickening 13incher mumbling out how big it was, how it was stretching his jaw as I put my hand on the back of his head, forcing it down his throat and starting to work harder, he felt my balls as they churned and throbbed I was so fucking horny watching myself in the mirror as I flexed and posed, my bicep bigger than my girlfriends head was my sleeves started fray from getting so pumped! I felt that same building pressure as I finally unloaded into him! Greg was gagging, his eyes rolling as the heat of my cum splased down his throat! I even watched his own thick bulge throb and spurt against his scrubs, cumming just from the sheer overload of pheromones I was putting out! I watch myself close in the mirror, feeling his throat getting tighter and his hands smaller with each spurt but I wasn't getting any bigger! Confused I finally pulled out my 13 incher and helped Greg up to his feet, staring down at him now a few inches shorter, seeing his once thickly stubbled face look smoother and more angled, his thick biceps having gotten slightly slimmer, and certainly less veined! he looked himself over, his hips having swollen out and his ass grown even curvier he was amazed but pleased, and that was when I found out exactly what my body does. I would be told about it later by another Breeder, which I'll tell you about next time maybe, but I am built to breed, my cum the most potent and powerful in the world and my body has this insatiable urge to do so, any woman even coming close to that thick hot cum runs the risk of accidental exposure, and everytime I do breed someone, my body rewards me, with growth, to turn me into an even MORE suitable mate. Greg found out what happened to MOST guys on the receiving end of my load, I say most because there are a few exceptions!! but they lose their muscle mass, their testosterone, their manliness all of it being stored in me, ready for my reward for my next breeding. These muscle men become more and more feminine everytime they take it, and the pheromones I pump out keep them coming back for more. It's a vicious cycle and it's the reason I'm actually transcribing this through someone right now, haven't been able to use a keyboard in...fuck in YEARS. So that's how I found out what I was born to do, next time I'll tell you about how I found out WHY I do it, and maybe mention Thomas, the other Breeder I was talking about...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 The Party Greg stepped off the scale. He was five pounds heavier than he had been yesterday. He could feel it. He felt bigger, heavier, more solid. He stood before the full length mirror in the bathroom and enjoyed what he saw. His naked body was a piece of art. Greg remembered what life had been like five weeks ago. How small he’d been. No defined muscle, just skin and bones. In the last few weeks he’d seen incredible gains in size and strength. His arms now laced with veins pulsing under the skin, and beneath those thick, powerful pythons of muscle. When he made a fist the solid fibres of his forearms danced beneath his now tanned looking skin. He had a healthy glow. Greg’s favourite parts though were his biceps. Between his elbow and his massive round delts lay the long muscle bellies of his biceps and triceps. The best part was when he brought his forearm up to make a muscle and the powerful length of his bicep would mound ever upwards. A few weeks ago it had been small, but each day it continued to form an ever growing peak. Now it was a solid massive ball. On par with any light heavyweight teen bodybuilder. And better even than most. Three times now he’d inadvertently flexed and split the seams of his polo shirt. His parents kept asking why he needed more money for clothes. Greg didn’t know what to tell them. Especially considering that the polo shirts of a few weeks ago would no longer fit around the massive girth of his new chest and back. He’d done five hundred chin-ups yesterday with an extra three hundred pounds strapped onto his body, which weighed two hundred twenty pounds. His back muscles benched and flexed with the slightest movement. And he’d begun buying clothes a couple sizes too big, because he knew that those two slabs of meat that were his pecs would too soon strain the cotton fabric of anything smaller. And fuck trying to button up the collar. His neck was just too thick. No button would hold. There seemed to be no such problem with his waist though. It seemed to be the only part of his anatomy not making astronomical gains. Instead it looked like a bricklayer had laid each of the bricks of his eight pack. Three weeks ago it had been like a washboard of ten abs. Now it was a titanium wall. And his jeans now clung tightly to his new ass and legs as well. Greg had been busting his ass with squats and they’d paid off handsomely. He knew he had the best ass of the pledge class by far. He involuntarily flexed the muscles of his quads. Damn, they were powerful. And calves like diamonds. But Greg was also growing taller as well. He grabbed his cock and gave it a loving tug. Nine inches. Jesus. Who would have thought? It was like a dangerous weapon. Too bad Nate always seemed to be one up on him, now at ten inches. Greg’s balls too hung low between his thighs, big and round and covered in dark, silky hair. Greg always went au natural these days. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed back to down the hall to his dorm room. Although the dorm itself was co-ed, each floor was still segregated by sex. And Greg was aware of the envious glares of his fellow residents as he walked down the hall. Before he had started pledging, Greg would have taken all of his clothes with him down to the showers, and dressed there privately afterwards. Now he enjoyed showing off his body as he walked down the hall, like the other jocks on the floor did. Each Pi Epsilon Chi man played a sport. And Greg was thinking about wrestling. When he got back to his dorm room, he saw that he had a couple text messages waiting on his phone. The first was from the Pledgemaster. “Mr. O’Brien, your meeting tonight has been cancelled. You and your fellow pledges have a free night. Enjoy it. But remember, you represent the fraternity at all times. Do not disappoint! –Mr. Pledgemaster.” Greg was so shocked he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. It was the first Friday night since he’d joined the fraternity that he didn’t have a meeting. However, even before pledging he hadn’t really been much of a party animal. What was he supposed to do? He checked the second message. It was from Matt: “Dude! I heard Nate repped 800 for 100 today. WTF? He’s gonna be ready before you! Drastic measures need to be taken my man! Meet me at the chem lab tomorrow at 09:00 you know the place – don’t tell ANYONE!” Greg was a bit surprised by Matt’s message. Greg pushed himself real hard. All the pledges did. But Nate was just ahead of the genetic curve. None of the other three pledges had gotten past seven hundred pounds for fifty reps. Although their gains were progressive. Greg was second only to Nate and he’d only reached seven hundred fifty pounds for fifty reps yesterday. Jerking off was not a problem though. Neither were the other tasks. It did seem possible that in just a short period of time Nate would fulfil all the physical requirements to become a brother. “Hey dude!” said Rich coming through the door. Greg saw Rich maybe once or twice a week nowadays, if that. They were pledging separate fraternities and that didn’t leave a lot of personal time. “Man, you are getting huge!” observed Rich with some awe. “What the fuck? What’s that bicep these days? Seventeen inches?” “Eighteen inches,” corrected Greg. He brought up his arm in front of Rich’s face. “Awesome,” said Rich. “It must be that formula right?” Greg choked. “How do you know about that?” “Well I didn’t until you just confirmed it,” said a smiling Rich. “All the Kappa guys know that you guys are juicing on something. I mean dude! There’s no way that you’re gonna gain fifty pounds of muscle in five weeks. It’s just not possible.” “Seventy pounds actually,” Greg corrected him. “Yeah, well, whatever,” dismissed Rich. “There’s still no way. Do you guys think the rest of the Greeks...hell, the rest of the school are oblivious? I mean more than ten pounds a week, for five weeks in a row? C’mon!” Greg realized for the first time that he was now taller than Rich. And quite a bit bigger. He flexed his chest involuntarily. He crossed his mighty arms over his chest. “Hell, man, don’t worry about it,” said Rich. He didn’t seem very intimidated, even if Greg outmuscled him by around fifty pounds. “I’m not worried about being one of the big men on campus. That shit will prolly make your dick drop off anyway.” “I doubt that”, said Greg as he let his towel drop. Rich tried to play it cool, but Greg saw his eyes widen as they involuntarily dropped down to Greg’s junk. He was as long and thick soft as most guys were hard. “Shit dude!” said Rich in awe. “I didn’t know you were that hung!” This was a true statement because Greg had never let Rich see him naked before. “No wonder those roids got you so big! Bet all the bitches love that thing!” “I don’t know,” said Greg truthfully. “I haven’t gotten laid since high school!” “Really?” asked Rich, dumbfounded. “Then you gotta come to the party tonight man! The Lambda Mu Chi girls are throwing a private party for us at our house tonight. I can invite anyone I want. I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come anyway, but now I gotta get you over there. Dude, those chicks will go crazy for a dick like that. You’ll have to fight ‘em off you.” This wasn’t how Greg had wanted to spend his first free night in weeks, but it occurred to him that he was pledging a fraternity and had absolutely never been to a frat party in his life. Didn’t he deserve a break? And he’d known Rich all year. The guy was a little wild, but basically all right. And maybe he could break this losing streak he’d been on and get lucky. So after confirming that his pledge brothers had plans of their own, he pulled on one of his older and slightly tighter pink polo shirts and followed Rich up to the Kappa Mu Alpha house for a good time. * * * “Whoa! Big dude!” said the Kappa brother as he let Rich and Greg into the house. “You’re a Pi Epsilon Chi pledge aren’t you?” Greg smiled and nodded. “Well welcome, mate,” the guy told him. “I’m Hank. Rich, grab the man a beer.” “Yes, Sir!” said Rich. “This is a pretty special night,” continued Hank. “We don’t often get bros from your house at our parties, so it’s a doubly special night.” “Here you go.” Rich handed Greg his beer. “Enjoy yourself,” Hank instructed him, as he walked away to greet some other guests. “That’s our chapter president,” Rich told him. “So what’s so special about tonight?” enquired Greg. “Well, I don’t know for certain,” said Rich conspiratorially, or at least as conspiratorially as possible over the rumbling bass of the speakers. “Rumour has it that tonight’s the night the Lambda pledges cross over. But the way I heard it each one needs to fuck a guy before they can become full sisters. With proof of the dirty deed!? Greg glanced at him. “With odds like that you are bound to get laid!” enthused Rich. “I mean there’s twenty Lambda pledges this semester and only ten Kappa pledges, so you do the math. I figure that’s why each of us pledges got to invite a friend.” Greg grinned at him. It had been a while and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted it. He’d been over at the Pi Epsilon Chi house for so long now, with all those swinging dicks, that he’d almost forgotten that he liked girls. Surveying all the very lovely ladies in the room, he just had the feeling that it was going to be a very good night. * * * “Hey, Polo Guy!” Greg heard the chirpy voice next to him and looked down at the speaker. A Lambda pledge stood next to him, smiling up expectantly. He figured she was about five feet, five inches, but Greg now towered over her. He knew she was a pledge because her hair was up in pig tails and she was wearing tight, white shorts and a tight pink t-shirt that read: Hot Tits. All twenty of the sorority pledges had arrived about an hour ago, wearing a lot of make-up, their cheeks dusky with blush. The words that came to Greg’s mind were cheap and easy. Her pink t-shirt was very low cut, and from Greg’s birds-eye vantage point he could see straight down her cleavage. She wasn’t wearing a bra either. Greg felt himself get a little hard as he imagined his face buried in those tits. In the midst of his reverie she handed him a beer. “This is from that guy over there,” she pointed. Greg looked up to see Hank talking to some of his frat brothers. Hank saw him and saluted him with his own beer bottle. Greg returned the gesture. “He said that I was yours for the night.” “Mine?” asked Greg. “Yeah,” she said seductively. “He said I was supposed to make you feel like a man. And....” she paused to giggle, “Fuck you like my ass was on fire.” Greg looked a little blank. “You do want to fuck me, don’t you?” she said looking a tad concerned. “Of course,” sputtered Greg. “But only if you want to fuck me. Not just to become a sister or something.” “Well I do want to become a sister,” she replied thoughtfully. “And I am going to fuck someone here. I asked that guy if I could fuck you, and he said yes. So it might as well be you.” Greg thought that was as good a reason as any. And he was willing. He chugged back his beer. She took him by the hand and led him upstairs to one of the rooms in the house. It was empty, but it was clearly someone’s room. Posters of half naked women and Quentin Tarantino films adorned the walls. “Besides,” she said, as she shut the door, “I have kind of a thing for bodybuilders, and you are a pretty big guy. Would you flex your arm for me?” “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” said Greg. “Why not?” “Because if I do I might tear my shirt.” “Oh, please!” she begged him. “Please, please, please with sugar on top. If you do I’ll let you fuck me six ways from Sunday in every hole.” Greg’s rod got so hard instantly that he had an obvious tent in the front of his jeans. He brought his arm up. “Ready?” he asked her. Her eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly. Greg flexed his arm and the polo that was already taut against his bicep began to give way as the mound of his massive gun rose up in the air. Within seconds his bicep had hulked out splitting the arm of his polo all the way to his shoulder. “Oh fuck!” she cried. “Shit,” Greg informed her. “That’s nothing. If you like that watch this.” He brought his other arm up and, just like the other, it split along the seam. Greg wasn’t even flexing hard. He changed his pose to a most muscular and began to flex his muscles. This shirt was getting too small for him anyways. As he flexed he felt his already powerful muscles engorge with blood and get pumped. Soon he felt the strain in the shirt fabric as his muscle bulged too big to be contained by the cotton. Within seconds the tears began and shirt spit from its open neck down his waist. With a roar he ripped off the remains of the shirt, and flexed hard for her, then swept his arms up. “Oh fuck!” she hollered jumping into his embrace with a running leap. Greg swept the girl up in his arms and lay back on the bed, pulling her down with him, and kissing her. She sat up for a minute, her sexy bottom resting on Greg’s abs, as she pulled her shirt over her head. Her tits spilled out and he reached his meaty fist up to feel one as he flexed his abdominals. The girl felt the undulation in her clit as his abdominals rippled on his narrow waist. “Oh my god,” she said, her hands moving to rub his pecs. “Your muscles are so hard, even when they’re not even flexed.” The girl kissed him, then moved her mouth to his chest and bit on his nipple. She reached around to feel the outline of Greg’s tool in his jeans. “And your cock is so big.” “Do you like what you feel?” “I love what I feel.” "Ready to get naked?" he asked, picking her up like a doll and setting her on the bed. The girl nodded and pulled down her shorts. There was a damp spot in her panties that Greg couldn’t ignore. Greg reached down and undid his jeans and pulled down his pants and boxers. He put on one of the condoms he was required to carry with him at all times, and picked the girl up again like she weighed nothing. “Damn, that thing sure is big!” she moaned. She felt his big cock rub against her body, and she pressed her wet pussy against him. “Fuck me hard stud!” she told him. Greg sank inch after powerful inch into her body, and he felt like THE MAN. Like there was no finer specimen of masculinity on earth. And he was getting laid! “I’m just getting started....” he told her. And that was the truth. * * * Three hours later, Hank was still continuing to listen to the noises coming from the ceiling above him as the sounds and vibrations of Greg’s lovemaking permeated through the house. “I thought you put tranquilizers in those beers you gave him?” asked Hank “I did,” said Rich. “They could’ve knocked out a fucking rhinoceros!” “So why is that god damn Pi Epsilon Chi pledge still fucking Lambda pussy in my house!” Rich could see that Hank was pissed. But he didn’t have an answer, so he figured it was best to keep quiet. Just then, rather miraculously, the noises stopped. Hank and Rich raced upstairs and opened the door. Greg was passed out and the girl was still sitting on his dick. “I didn’t kill him,” she said, half hysterically. “He just passed out!” “That’s okay love,” said Hank, his excitement growing. “Get your ass out of here!” “NOW!” he shouted when she didn’t move fast enough. She scrambled off Greg’s dick, grabbed her clothes and raced out the door. Hank checked Greg, but he appeared to be out cold. His dick was still rock hard, pointing straight up. “Holy fuck,” breathed Hank, staring at it. “That’s amazing.” He turned to Rich. “Go get the Doctor. Tell him to get his ass in here now!” Rich raced out and after a few minutes came back with one of the guys from the house. “Shit dude,” said the new guy angrily. “I was banging my chick, what is so urgent...whoa! Is that a Pi Epsilon Chi brother?” “Even better! It’s a pledge!” said Hank excitedly. “That’s right dude, this is the one we’ve been waiting for.” “Excellent,” said the Doctor, grinning madly. “We just need to draw some blood.” Read the Next Part