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  1. mman

    Writing Wren

    Thanks to James, the original author of Writing Will for giving permission to adapt this into a m/f themed growth story. Alexa was a writer. Always has been. In fact, there were videos of her reading and even writing before she could walk. Then, when she was still a kid, about eight years old, she wrote her first book: Looking for More. Over four hundred pages long. It was really just a diary of her feelings being young and extremely intelligent, her relationship with her parents and the burden she felt as an only child. Alexa's writing was discovered and promoted in book form by her aunt, Helen, who used to get drunk with a few friends at Shelley's Place every Thursday. Helen was always supportive of Alexa's writing, even when it did border on the creepy way-too-mature-for-her-age side. So she offered a copy of the diary to an acquaintance of hers, who was married to a major publisher. And then, without any warning, Alexa became a sensation: The Girl who Writes. She won a few awards, and was encouraged to work on the something new that she entitled Getting More: accomplished yet unfulfilled. Suffice it to say Alexa managed to become the world’s youngest successful writer just as fast as she became the world’s youngest has-been. Getting More was a painful failure. And although her parents, Helen and the publisher were trying their best to help Alexa get through it, encouraging her to keep writing, she realized that, after all the theatrics of being a child celebrity, she was actually relieved. Relieved because she would be able to experience a normal teenager’s life throughout her years in school. Her continued writing would now be done in solitude, for only her own satisfaction, or lack of it. And in any case, it’s not like lots of ten-year old kids had read her books. No one would know who she was. And indeed they didn’t. They still don’t. Which Alexa has come to see as a blessing in disguise. [years later] Sitting alone, sipping her beer in the corner of Shelley's Place, just like her aunt Helen did, Alexa sighed as she felt her pen drying out again. “His tears brushed against my...” was the beginning of the last sentence to come out of her pen that evening. Happy birthday, me, Alexa thought. Twenty six years of dry pens and counting. Setting it down and letting herself get lost in the serenity of the small bar she had spent so much time meditating in, Alexa felt someone tap on her shoulder. “Excuse me?” the stranger’s voice asked as she looked up at them. “What? Uh, yes?” she answered, coming out of her haze so suddenly. “You’re The Girl, right... The Girl who Writes?” The young man was undoubtedly expansive. It actually took Alexa a few seconds to work out whether or not he was a man or a large piece of furniture. He wore a worn leather jacket, which barely covered his long, thick arms. It seemed to have been picked out of a pile at Goodwill, which gave his rugged look even more of a strange attractiveness, considering the ill-fitting, ripped jeans he was wearing around his bulging thighs and the scruffy beard that covered most of his face. Alexa almost got scared, hearing the nickname she got when Looking for More became a best-seller, because his deep, almost uncanny voice was booming it out way louder than she was comfortable with. “Uh, excuse me, who are you ?” Alexa struggled to say without choking. “Sorry, I’m Wren. It’s just that… I’m a big fan of yours. Alexa, right? Alexa Chase?” he let out, nervously. Which seemed strange considering how imposing he was physically. “Yeah, that’s me. Nice to meet you, Wren.” Alexa held out her hand, noticing with a belated feeling of self-disgust the faint dark spots that the dozen cigarettes she'd smoked in the last half-hour had left on her fingers. He shook it, relieving her of any discomfort, since his hands were covered in dirt, anyway, and replacing it with the pain of how strongly he was shaking her hand. “Same here, Miss Chase.” he replied, filled with apparent joy. Noticing a pained look on Alexa's face, he quickly relieved the pressure of his handshake and smiled at her. “Sorry, I always do that. Still have a hard time managing my strength.” Wren confessed. “That’s fine,” Alexa playfully answered, mainly relieved that she had someone to talk to in this lonely bar. “And you can call me Alexa. No one’s called me Miss Chase since I was ten.” He laughed and nodded along, sitting on the opposite side of the booth. My God, this guy is huge, Alexa thought, seeing as though he seemed to be taking up the entire width of the booth. After a few seconds, she noticed that he wasn’t going to do or say anything except keep up this star-struck look he’d held since the beginning of the conversation. It was weird bumping into someone who was an actual fan of her work. “So, uh… Still, huh?” Alexa asked him. “Huh ? What do you mean?” he replied, sincerely confused. His look of pure innocence reminded her of so many John Coffeys and Lennie Smalls, without the implied stupidity. In spite of his child-like demeanor contrasted by his giant frame, nothing about him indicated that he was dumb. Quite the contrary : he had that sparkle in his right eye that seems to hide a world of wonders. And what eyes. Brown, tinged with some light green. Big and getting deeper the more she looked into them. “I just mean… Well you said that you still have a hard time managing your strength. You’re obviously a big guy, you must’ve gotten used to it by now right ?” Alexa said, not really sure how else to open a conversation with this man. He suddenly turned red, which added to his shy, innocent attitude. “Not really,” he answered honestly. “I... I haven't always been this big. But thank you for noticing… Alexa. And, uh… Happy birthday.” He smiled and reached into his front pocket, taking a once shiny, no longer new pen out of it and placing it in front of her. It was the kind of pen a recent graduate receives as a gift or a bank manager has on their desk. Alexa laughed and smiled wider than ever. “You know, you’re the first person to wish me happy birthday this year, let alone give me a gift. Thanks a lot, Wren, it means more to me than you think.” “A woman with your talent deserves at least that much recognition,” he sheepishly offered, excited at the prospect of exclusively spending time with his idol. They spent another hour and a half talking about her books, what he loved about them, how strange it was being a child writer. And for the first time is so many months (years?), Alexa felt heard. Listened to. Wren turned out to be more than a fan, he was interested in talking about her work and curious about how it came to be. They felt a queer connection between them, the reader who had recently been driven to find the author who seemed to be speaking just to him and the writer who was suddenly drawn in by a man who seemed to understand her so well. He then confessed that he had begun to keep that pen in his pocket, ever since he had determined that Alexa was known to write at Shelley's Place. Apparently, he wished he could give it to her and know that he contributed to her work, albeit in a small way. All in all, she couldn’t say if it was the attention he was giving her, his look of pure interest or his ironically ultra-masculine aura, but Alexa felt herself shifting closer to the table, hoping to rub a tiny fraction of her finger against his. “Can’t believe I’m twenty-six, Wren…” Alexa said, exaggerating a sigh. “Well you don’t look a day over twenty, Alexa,” he answered, smiling. “And how old are you?” she asked, guessing at about thirty. “I just turned nineteen.” Wren responded with all the calm in the world. It took Alexa a few seconds to stop chuckling. “No, come on, how old are you?” “I just told you.” he said, a little upset. “But you’re not nineteen, I mean look at you. You’re like…” “A monster? A freak?” he cut off. “That’s the bullshit my classmates gave me before I dropped out of school!” She was shocked by two separate things: one, the fact that this mountain of man was nineteen years old. Second, that anyone could’ve even thought about bullying him for looking that way. “Wren,” she interjected softly, taking his giant hand into hers. “You’re…” Some tears were forming on the surface of Wren’s gorgeous eyes, and Alexa couldn’t think of anything to say to express the way she saw him. Appreciated him. So she decided to kiss him across the table. His tears were now trickling down her cheek as she felt his rugged lips push against hers. His big, calloused hand reached up to her face, making her feel like she was kissing a seasoned lumberjack, not a nineteen year old young man. Alexa let go of him for a few seconds, looking straight into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I never thought you were a freak. You’re beautiful.” Alexa confessed before resuming the kiss. Five minutes later, she saw herself picking up the scraps of paper that she thought may be the pieces of another book. Wren was breathing heavily and didn’t stop looking at her for a second: indeed, the intensity with which he was staring at Alexa made her feel weak in the knees. When arriving at her car, she realized with half-concealed amusement that they were going to have a problem : her new friend was, as she told he in Shelley's Place that night, standing at 6ft and 3in high, and 230 pounds, which by all means meant that he would have a very, very hard time fitting in her tiny car. Nevertheless, too entranced by what they were going to do with each other once getting past that minor transportation-related inconvenience, they laughed it off. Alexa wasn't sure that watching Wren struggle to fit on the passenger seat of her car and almost fail to close the door didn’t somehow contribute to her arousal. His enormous thigh, which the ripped up holes in his jeans only allowed her to see a fraction of, was pushing against the center console, but he did his best to contain it. They arrived at her place at around 11pm and calmly walked the length of her front-yard to the door of the family home which she had inherited. “This is where you live?” he asked while he marveled at the big house’s facade. “Yeah. You like it ?” “I love it !” Alexa locked the door behind them, and before she could even process what was happening, Wren pressed his entire body against hers and kissed her harder than anyone had ever kissed her before. She could feel his moans of pleasure in her mouth and his very obvious hardness against her body. Alexa held on to his huge arms, feeling herself fall against the door from the intensity of the kiss. Only then did she truly realize the expansive width and general size of the young man. Her fingers dug deep into the leather sleeves that seemed to struggle to contain the mass of his rock-hard biceps. His hips and legs pushed with so much force against hers that she almost felt crushed, but the pain paled in comparison to how much Wren turned her on. It had been months since she’d been touched, let alone touched with so much intent and forwardness. He then shifted to start kissing her neck. Alexa looked up at the light gray ceiling above her and got blinded by the light of the chandelier that adorned it as he forced his lips deep below her own, eliciting moans of pleasure that she didn’t even know she had in her. The way he handled her was so primal and powerful that Alexa decided to let go and gladly let him take anything he wanted from her. This was not the adoring fan she’d met a few hours ago. This was a decidedly masculine force, that she was willing to give up everything to. Wren picked her up in his big, muscular arms. “Where’s your bedroom?” he asked in a deeper voice than he had used a couple minutes before. He put her down on the bed with more brutality than he probably intended and proceeded to take of fhis jacket, revealing an extremely tight, black undershirt that seemed to almost give way, considering the size of his enormous chest. Alexa sat there in silence for a few seconds, looking up at his beautiful frame with blatant amazement, which apparently made him a little nervous. “You think I’m too much.” he said, visibly embarrassed. “I think you’re perfect.” Alexa sat up on the side of the bed, lifted up his shirt and found herself face to face with his incomparable set of eight blocky abdominal muscles. Her face was drawn to them, and she started to kiss every single one of them with a softness that made him breathe more heavily than he ever did before. “Fuck, Alexa. Yes…” he hissed while she made her way to his expansive chest. If she had to guess, Alexa thought that his pectoral muscles hung from his chest by at least four inches. He held the back of her head as she licked past the deep cleavage that formed in between his pecs, pushing the shirt upwards when she reached his hard, rosy nipples. She felt him flex his chest against her face when she sucked on the right one. “Oh my god, yes… Don’t stop!” he moaned, pulling her closer to his enlarged nipple. By then, Alexa was almost sure that she'd be gushing in her panties without even touching herself. The combination of his deep, perfect voice with the feeling of pure power that emanated from his body, and the hard warmth against her mouth as she sucked on his chest harder and harder made Alexa want Wren more than she’d probably ever wanted anything else in her life. A sudden calm suddenly washed over Alexa, and she felt herself compelled to do something strange. Her right hand came up to his abs, slowly caressed them and soon started to circle around. The circle she traced kept getting smaller and smaller until she was barely covering a single abdominal muscle. Alexa ceased any and all other activity, but Wren still held her close as her index finger traced that circle over and over and over… Alexa had no idea what triggered this instinct, neither did she understand what compelled her to keep going, or why it seemed to elicit so much pleasure in Wren, who started to moan louder and louder until all she could hear was the never-ending echo of his pleasure above her. “Keep going, Alexa,” the nineteen year old titan bellowed, letting her feel the resonance of his deep voice inside his chest. Her finger traced the circle until it finally decided to move upwards, then lower, to the right, another circle… It took Alexa some time to understand that her brain was doing something instinctively. Out of nowhere, a powerful wind of pleasure flowed through the two of them. The world went silent. No more cars passing by, no birds singing their last song of the day. Not even a rustle in the trees. Not a single hushed hiss of October wind. Nothing, except the distinguishable sound her finger was making, rubbing against the skin of Wren’s ripped stomach. “Oh my God… It’s too much, but feels so good. Fuck !” Will said, breaking the silence of the room. His chest pushed against her face. Was he flexing ? It didn’t feel like it. He applied more pressure on her head, as if he never wanted Alexa to let go of him or stop the movement of her finger. Then, after a few seconds of powerful and emotional pleasure, something else echoed through the room. A sound Alexa found difficult to identify at first. It was the sound of Wren’s undershirt coming apart at the seams. He let out a powerful moan. “Somethings... somethings happening," Wren panted. "What the fuck is happening to me, Alexa?” he asked in an even deeper voice, which seemed impossible. Alexa's finger kept tracing. Over the same two-inch surface. And then slowly she widened her area of attention, imagining text beneath her fingertip. She was doing what she’d always done best. Writing. But this time there was no paper and no ink. She felt desires unknown flowing onto this man destined to be her muse and her destiny. Alexa's simple act of writing against Wren's warm skin was to have implications of which she could not imagine. And it all began with one simple word: MORE [minutes later] Despite all Alexa's efforts since then, rummaging through her memory and desperately seeking a clue that would help to figure it out, she couldn't recall what happened in the few minutes that separated Wren’s wardrobe malfunction and the moment she found herself lying on the floor, covered in sweat. There was only an intense feeling she was utterly unable to describe. When Alexa woke up, facing the ceiling, clothes clinging to her body, all she could think about was Wren. And a powerful need to pick up a pen and some paper. Fuck, she thought. I need to write. Now. But when she got up, it occurred to her that she was alone in the room. No incredibly tall muscle man in sight. A growing piece of her mind was slowly accepting the possibility that he might have simply been an elaborate hallucination. She thought, come on. What nineteen year old looked like that? What nineteen year old would ever willingly pick up one of her books. And not only that, but also deeply enjoy it. Alexa's books were old news and pretty much anyone who still talked about them in the press would had a field day tearing the once young author's work to shreds. She’d grown accustomed to it : but Wren was probably just a desperate attempt by my brain to comfort me in-- But then she heard footsteps in the corridor outside her bedroom, approaching, rumbling. Nothing like the faint creaking her cat would make when it made its peaceful way into her bed at night. Alexa's heart started racing, the desire for Wren to not be a hallucination swiftly colliding with the terror of having a stranger in her house. The door opened and so entered a very real, very stunned Wren. His beautiful green-brown eyes piercing into her with a look of shock and desperation. He was very clearly calling for any help she might provide in that moment. But all Alexa could do was sit there, taking in the view of the gorgeous, ultra-masculine and seemingly gigantic nineteen year old stud. Her breath accelerated, as Alexa was trying to catch it. The black undershirt Wren was wearing when they rolled into her place was now absolutely ripped to shreds, the only remnants of it being a couple of distressed threads, holding on for dear life at his midsection and left shoulder. His chest was heaving up and down, making him look like even more of a powerful and primal beast of the wild, more so than a terrified young man. This lasted for at least ten to fifteen seconds, before he opened his mouth, breathing hard and fast. “Alexa. Alexa, help me. What’s happening to me?” he cried, looking down again at himself. It was obvious that his body had grown outwards in every direction. What was less obvious, though, was the fact that he had also grown taller, despite already being a very tall guy. The result was a very much wider, very much taller Wren standing in a door frame that was barely able to contain him. Alexa slowly approached him, with the star-struck look he had on when he met her. And despite every cell in her body wanting to heed his call for help, she was completely unable to say anything. Her eyes did a dozen series of quick takes up and down his huge body when she found herself standing and moving only a few inches away from him. “I don’t…” she whispered, her finger closing in on his immense, heaving chest. But he snapped her hand away. And snapped Alexa out of her trance in the same movement. “Don’t touch me! I need you to tell me what the fuck is happening to my body!” “I.. I don’t know, I’m…” she said, looking further up at him than before. He was definitely taller than ever. “How did you do this? I want to go back!” he asked, struggling to look down past his very clearly enlarged pecs. “I… Wren, I really don’t know, you just, I mean… I-,I was just thinking in my head that you…” she stuttered. “Well do something! Reverse it! People are going to think I’m an even bigger freak! I can’t be so…” “Just calm down, there must be an explanation--” she answered, softly, trying to soothe him. Without warning, Wren grabbed the wrist beneath the hand that Alexa had used to finger him the night before, not wanting to take any chances that she might touch him again. Her heart started to beat as fast as ever, and the fear that she felt watching the look of pure anger in his eyes grew more intense every second. “Listen to me! I can’t look like this, you understand? I.. I live on the streets, Alexa, I can’t stand out like this… I’m a monster! Now fucking DO SOMETHING! Please!” he bellowed deeply. Tears were starting to crawl down his beautiful eyes to his cheeks, dropping down an impossibly square jaw. Alexa began crying herself out of fear when he eventually realized what he was doing and let go of her, letting his huge, muscular body slide against the wall until he was just a gigantic mass of muscles and ripped up clothes on the floor. His head nestled into his knees as panic overcame his words. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Alexa, I don’t… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.” he cried. It took Alexa a few seconds to gather herself and crouch down next to him. She put her hand on his arm, which rippled and flexed with every minute movement. “It’s OK, Wren. You look nothing like a monster. And I really have no idea how any of this happened,” she whispered close to him. “To be fair, I don't even know how this is possible.” It was only then that she fully heard his enraged address. “You said you live on the streets? A smart guy like you?” she asked, trying to segue the conversation to another subject. He look at her with tear-filled eyes, a single drop slowly rolling down his cheek. Alexa decided to rub it off, feeling the black stubble that covered his cheek against her finger. Was it just her or had his beard filled out a little since they had first met? “Yeah, I’ve been homeless for a year and a half,” he confessed in a shy but still incredibly bass voice. “It’s fine if you want me to go, this isn’t your fault. I’ve always been bigger than a typical kid, but around the same time that I read your first book, I hit a major growth spurt, and people who used to be my friends at school started to make fun of me. They accused me of being "on" something, as if I wanted to be bigger than I already was. My dad said I was more like my mom on the inside, curious about everything, nose always stuck in a book, too smart for my own good. My size I got from my dad. But my growth spurt made me even bigger than him. Eventually, the kids' teasing became all out bullying and I couldn’t take it anymore. So I…” he trailed off. “You what?” Alexa encouraged him patiently. “I hit Jake Steele, the only kid still bigger than me in my grade, but I didn’t know I… He hurt me so many times with just his words, then got my so-called friends to say the same and worse. When the hurt in my eyes wasn't enough, he started to push me around in front of them, and finally I… You gotta believe me, Alexa, I didn’t mean to!” he struggled to continue. Alexa held his hand, giving him the best comforting look she could. “He ended up in the hospital, and I was expelled. I never knew my mom and had always lived alone with my dad. Earlier that same year I lost him too, to an accident on the site of his latest construction job. So now, I had no one. That’s why I became so attached to your books. The first one I found in the discard pile at our school library. The second I found tossed in the trash outside a bookstore I sometimes hid out behind. So I read them both over and over, but when I heard that you were hanging out at Shelley's Place, I just...” he added, more assured. “I had to meet you. I figured you’d know what it’s like to be an outcast. Because people are stupid for not liking your books, they’re great, and you’re great, and I’m sorry for scaring you, Alexa. I just… I hate being this big and I just got bigger.” The scene was quite comical if you were to look at it from an outside perspective. Alexa held his hand and eventually wrapped her arms around his massive shoulders, making it look like she was cradling a giant in her thin arms. And as he continued his monologue, she realized how perfect Wren truly was and how lucky she was to have to met him. Alexa could sense the warmth emanating from his powerful, bulky body. The scent of his musky sweat that seemed to fill the air all around. The beauty of his eyes as they filled with tears. This was a young man with the body of a god. “Wren, you’ll stay with me from now on. I’ll take care of you and you… Well you can help me write a new book. And maybe carry heavy things that I can’t,” she said, which made him laugh although he kept his sad demeanor. “I’m so sorry that any of this happened to you.” “Am I gonna keep growing, Alexa? Am I normal?” “You’re the furthest thing from normal and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to have in my life,” she answered truthfully. He kissed her, holding his huge hand to her face the same way he did in the bar. Alexa reveled for a few seconds in the warmth and comfort of this soft kiss. Whatever happened from now on, would happen to the two of them. And Alexa had a plan to try and figure it all out. “I need to get the pen that you gave me, so we can start writing.” [some time later] “Are you ready?” Alexa asked, taking a deep breath. It was around three in the morning. Wren was standing in the middle of her living room, wearing a blanket around his shoulders and a towel around his waist, which were basically the only things in the house that would cover him. He was very clearly nervous. “I don’t know, this feels stupid. You sure this is going to work?” he replied, the apparent embarrassment growing in his husky voice. “Well, no. This is insane. But we gotta try something. And it’s either this or checking you into the nearest hospital to see how you got so much bigger in just a matter of minutes.” On the desk in front of Alexa lay a single sheet of blank paper and the pen Wren had given her earlier as a birthday gift. He told her when presenting it to her the second time, that it had once belonged to his mother, also a dreamer like Alexa. She took hold of the pen, trying to mask how stupid she felt even thinking that it could work. “If this works and it’s really what we think it is… Wren, I mean, is that what you really want?” she asked, hesitantly but hopefully. He nodded slow at first, thinking long and hard about it. “Yes. I think so.” “OK, well, here I go,” Alexa replied, confused as to how she’d ended up in this situation. On the upper left-hand side of the sheet, Alexa started writing, still very skeptical about any effect it could have on reality. Thinking it through, how could what she writes have an actual material and physical manifestation of any sort? It made absolutely no sense. But in spite of all of that, Alexa started writing... It was around three in the morning. Wren was standing in the middle of my living room, wearing a blanket around his shoulders and a towel around his waist, which were basically the only things in my house that would fit him. He was very clearly nervous. Now standing at 6’6” tall and weighing close to 275 pounds, the nineteen year old muscle man started to slowly deflate. As Alexa wrote those lines with as much detail as she could manage, Wren started to emit groans and moans a few feet in front of her. His body, which was currently a gorgeous, massive and painfully powerful arrangement of muscles, started to twitch and tremble in a possession-type frenzy. “You OK, Wren?” No response. He fell to the floor, with a distance in his eyes she’d never seen before. “Wren?” she repeated, starting to get nervous. Maybe this was all a placebo thing after all. It sure didn’t look like it, though. As Alexa was about to put the pen down, she heard a deep moan coming from him and only then did she notice the way the blanket and towel started to hang looser around his flawless skin. Alexa sat there in awe, watching this mountain of a young man start to shrink slowly but very noticeably. His arms lost more and more weight and width every second, almost as if his body was actually being drained and after a whole minute of this, Wren screamed. Alexa's entire body got covered in goosebumps. This was a supernatural event, it had to be. Something otherworldly. Wren’s body was pushing in on itself, like a balloon fighting to keep its structure when you start releasing its air. But the scream he let out was quite simply terrifying. “MAKE IT STOP!” he gasped loudly with all of his breath. Alexa froze up, unable to think, do or even say anything. “Fucking make it stop!” He started convulsing on the floor, very clearly in pain. Alexa went into panic mode, got up and went to him. His skin was burning hot at some places, like his biceps, pectoral muscles and jawline, but freezing cold at others. She was in way over her head. This wasn’t nature’s work, it was something greater. Either a miracle or an abhorrent trick of the universe. He suddenly calmed down, his body now reduced in size from what it had been a few seconds ago. He even seemed shorter and less muscular than when they had first met. His eyes locked onto hers and he grabbed her arm. “Make it stop, Alexa! I fucked up, this is wrong,” he whispered in a much weaker voice than before. Alexa came to her senses immediately, got back to the desk, sweat dripping down her forehead, her heart beating at a million beats per minute. She picked up the pen once again, and in a desperate attempt, wrote in a panicked haste... Wren was lying on the floor. Now shrunk down to less than what he’d been only minutes before, the young man started to grow again. Bigger. Stronger. Reaching increasing height and weight at an inhuman pace. The possibilities started to rush into her brain. This power Alexa had discovered with a subtle mix of excitement, amazement and fear was only now reaching the conscious part of her mind. Wren was already writhing on the floor. The fireplace raged on with more force than it had before while all the lights in the living room started to flicker on and off. This intense physical pleasure she had felt when writing the word “more” on Wren’s stomach earlier came back to her, although now increased tenfold in intensity. Her panties got suddenly damp, as she gushed from the hunger growing inside of her, watching Will moan, groan, deepen, widen, thicken and grow in every direction on the floor. She shook herself from her semi-orgasmic state back to consciousness feeling her story was unfinished. Touching herself with one hand and holding the pen in the other, Alexa resumed her writing with... Wren had become more than she had ever hoped for or imagined. Without warning, the entire living room went dark. A silence filled the room. All Alexa could hear was Wren’s breathing a few feet in front of her. “FUCK YES!” she heard him growl in the darkness. Then some powerful footsteps closed in on her, and Alexa was suddenly engulfed in hot, swollen flesh. “There's my girl,” Wren’s incredibly deep voice echoed in the pitch black silence. “Fuck, I’ve never felt so good in my entire life. This is amazing!” Alexa's body went limp immediately as Will manhandled her in the dark. He picked her up like a ragdoll in his giant arms and deep down, she knew that it had only taken a minute for the extra pounds of power to settle in the young god’s massive frame. His lips attached themselves, strongly, gently to her inviting neck, and against her front she could feel the rippling waves of a powerful and pulsating wall of abdominal bricks, as well as a heaving mass of meat some would still call pecs. “Oh god, Wren. Please,” she moaned in a hushed whisper. “Please…” He slowly lowered Alexa in fully his flexed arms and kissed her deeply. “I am so fucking huge, Alexa. You did this to me. You made me this way.” His deep, bass voice had the same effect in the pit of her stomach and the inside of her chest that a powerful song would have inside a car. And though Alexa couldn’t see him, she felt his body all around her. He was stronger than ever and almost gigantic. His huge biceps now encircled her back, one of his hands holding her against him. He’d been holding Alexa for over a minute and didn’t show any sign of fatigue. His other hand found his eager member, also grown bigger than ever before. He soon began pulling on his massive meat as he moaned into the skin of his woman. “Touch me, Alexa, fucking touch every part this body you wanted me to have,” he begged. But it felt more like a command. He put Alexa back on the floor and her hands reached around and attached themselves to the rippling mass of his overly developed glutes. It felt as though every part of his body was flexing at the same time. There was so much of him, all over her, all around her. Alexa felt a need to touch all of his muscular, bulky body but couldn’t shake the feeling that it would take hours to manage the entire tour. Was this it? Was Wren her next piece of work? The thing she could finally call her masterpiece? Could Alexa write her deepest, most secretive desire into a reality? It felt like a dream. He was breathing heavily above her, his towering stature looming over her so effortlessly. And as her hands hastily explored every inch of his wide, intensely mountainous back, Wren put a giant hand on the back of her head and guided her face up, under his chest. His heart was beating just as fast as hers. But it sounded like the powerful bass you’d hear in a club. He kept touching himself and Alexa felt herself surprisingly also approaching climax. “Say you want this,” Alexa said, her voice trembling. He took less than a second to think. “I fucking want this.” Alexa let go of him, although it took all the courage she had, and took a few steps back. The lights came back on. And there he was: standing in front of her. Wren. Towering as the growing Hulk he’d become at the scribble of the pen he’d given the woman he was so desperate to meet. Alexa felt her world changing, her desires expanding. Wren, she thought over and over. The young man she’d met only a few hours ago was in a very definite way the only thing she could think about, look at, envision or even manage to conceive in any real sense. Everything paled in comparison to the feeling Alexa had looking up at this incredible man. The light shined perfectly on Wren’s glistening body as his fingers took a tighter hold of his massive manhood, his eyes slowly closing. Alexa’s body responded faster than her mind did, and she quietly reached climax in the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced in her entire life. Her panties now soaked, Alexa watched as the mountain of muscle Wren had become also came, one tightly squeezed hand feeling the pounding heartbeat beneath his pec, the other working his longer, thicker cock. He fell to his knees and she knelt beside him. It had been decided. “I want this,” he concluded in a deep whisper, falling unconscious on the floor of Alexa’s living room. Alexa breathlessly surveyed the glorious mass of muscle before her and began to imagine how much more their future might hold.
  2. The Stone of Agios Part One My fifteen years of study, research, and excavation finally led to my discovery of the whereabouts of The Stone of Agios. It had been unearthed in 1928 by an Englishman, Sir Lionel Pherril, who had kept it in his private geological collection without quite knowing what it was. Since the family had now found themselves falling on hard times, they were more than willing to sell the yellow crystal for a song when I approached them with my offer. I found it difficult to hold back my excitement as the mythical stone was placed in my hand. It was larger than depicted in drawings and heavier than I thought it would be, but small enough to fit comfortably in my carry-on that evening. I was taking no chances. After giving the envelope with £50,000 cash to Mr. Pherril, I went right to Heathrow airport and booked the first direct flight home. Several times I opened my bag to make sure the stone was safe, and many times I wanted to trial it’s power for myself, but I strengthened my resolve to wait until I was in the privacy of my own home. I leaned my head back against my seat in Business Class and closed my eyes. As I thought of the stone, a smile appeared on my face and my stubby cock got slightly hard in my jeans. The Stone of Agios. I had first read of its mythological origin during an archaeological dig while an intern in college. An ancient scroll unearthed that fateful day told the legendary tale of The Stone’s origin, how it had given birth to the Ancient Titans at the beginning of time and fueled their power. A crafty prehistoric man stole it and used its power to evolutionary propel themselves further than they ever should have gone. The Stone had granted man power over fire, assisted in the invention of the wheel, and given them victory in battles. From my decade of research, I discovered that the stone was rumored to grant the desires of those who held it. These legends birthed the tales of wish granting genies and other such items around the world. Eventually, I could never find out quite how it came into the possession of a priest who feared its demonic powers. He was t able to destroy it, so he hid it from the world until it was unearthed by a local craftsman who had purchased a rundown abbey. The legends, having long been forgotten, left the stone to an uninteresting life of being a paperweight. I knew it was still in the possession of the Pherril’s after seeing it sitting on a desk in a photograph. Now… it was mine! As I drove home from the airport my hand brushed the uneven surface of the stone. Soon, I thought. Soon I’ll have everything I ever imagined. I parked the car in the driveway and walked into my home. For the past twenty-five years I had lived in this three level Victorian conversion which I purchased several years after I became a professor at the university. Teaching Ancient Greek and Latin studies enabled me to continue my quest for the stone while holding down a fairly easy job that I enjoyed. I had several partners come and go, but none who’s interest ever held me long. My split with my last partner had only been six weeks prior and he had messaged me while I had been in the UK. “Hey, Johnathan. Give me a call when you get back. Thought we might grab dinner or a movie. Hope your trip to England was good. Talk soon.” I’d have to remember to call Steve and see how he was. For now, I was more than interested in the dusty yellow crystal I held in my hand. Walking into the kitchen, I turned on the lights and walked over to the sink. Running warm water, I ran the stone under the flowing tap until it was clean. I then carefully towel dried it and carried it into my library. There, I poured a glass of wine and sat on the leather couch staring intently into it. No time like the present. Clearing my throat, I said out loud: “I wish…” I stopped. I needed to think. I needed to test it before I attempted any elaborate wishes. “I wish… I wish I was the very definition of a stud and my cock was 13 inches when hard and 8 inches thick with a 9 inch thick head that swells to near bursting! ” I felt the crystal begin to throb in my hand as if it were breathing. Soon after, a bright yellow light began to pulse within the heart of the crystal growing brighter and more powerful each second. Suddenly, the light became blinding as the crystal pounded in time to my own heart beat. I found myself turning my eyes away from the blinding glow as it grew in intensity. Then, just as it started, the glow faded and the stone was still. I was shaking as I gently placed the stone on the table. Would the wish be granted just as I had asked? If so… what would I ask for next? I felt butterflies begin to fly wildly within my stomach as I thought of all the possibilities that now lay before me. I could… Fuck… I could be a God… a Titan! My 4” cock began to harden in my trousers. I rubbed the head with my hand as it jumped in its fabric covered prison. Then, with shaking hands, I began to undo my belt and unbutton my jeans. If it was going to grow… and I had every faith that it was going to… I needed to watch! Pulling my jeans and underwear down, my rigid cock slapped against my flat stomach, harder than it had been in years… harder than when I was a horny teenager! Grabbing onto the shaft, I began to slowly stroke it, relishing in the steel-like sensation and sensitivity I was experiencing. I imagined what all of my partners would say when the finally saw the massive cock I had hidden in my pants. How many times hook-ups had told me my cock was too small to be a dominant top? Now, they were going to be in for a massive surprise when I rammed their tight asses over and over and over again with my giant cock! “Fuck yeah! A Giant cock! A real warrior's cock with the sex drive of an army!” I grunted as the head of my cock swelled and began to start leaking a considerable amount of pre-cum. All of my life I had wanted to be one of those guys whose cock leaked their own lube like a fountain, but no matter how hard or aroused I was, it never happened. Now, my cock was actually shooting ropes of pre onto my stomach and leaking down the shaft. Bringing my hand up to my face, I took in the potent musky smell. Fuck!! It smelled of masculinity… of virility…. I hungrily began to lick my own fingers enjoying the powerful flavor. My cock grew even harder, and what had once been pleasurable minutes prior was now a throbbing ache. The flow of pre became an even wilder river as more and more was expelled in larger amounts. The spurts of pre were now so powerful that my abs and then pecs and finally neck was getting pelted by it. From the amount flowing off of my body and onto the leather couch, it looked like I had pissed myself! I laughed and grunted again as an even larger wad was fired at my chest. Pain radiated up from my balls causing me to inhale a shallow breath. The sensation of being kicked in the balls over and over again by a mule grew stronger as the stream of pre shooting out of my cock grew stronger. Soon, there were no longer any spasms or spurts, but a continuous cascade of pre-cum bursting out of my swollen cock head. I found myself stifling a loud groan as the pain grew worse. Instinctually grabbing onto my nuts to calm the pain, I felt them begin to pulse and then proceed to swell in my hands. Moments of pain mixed with orgasmic pleasure passed, and soon I could feel my walnut sized balls swell until they closely resembled two chicken eggs, both fighting for room in my tight sack. Sweat was pouring down my face as my head rested on the back of the couch. I was terrified my ball sack was going to split as my egg sized testicles soon appeared to grow again until they more closely resembled large kiwis. I had been so distracted by my balls swelling right before my eyes that I failed to notice that my cock head had begun to start growing thicker as well. I brought my right hand to the head and stroked it, shocked by how sensitive it now was. I watched in awe as the head flexed and pulsed, growing heftier, fleshier, meatier, and more delicious looking. My head swam as my entire body was overloaded by erotic sensations. I could feel saliva dripping out of my open mouth as I took in the deep red color of my fist sized cock-head. The morphed-looking glans belonged to my own cock, and I was afraid of it. Any ass or orifice it entered would no doubt be stretched to capacity, and I was glad that I would never be the one being impaled by it! “Fuck!!” I cried out as my balls swelled even larger. I lifted the swollen orbs in my hands and was amazed at how heavy they now were. My sack had stretched along with the unbelievable growth of my nuts, but no matter how large it became, the swelling testicles took up more and more room. As the expanded, I began to feel a new and welcomed sensation from within; the creation and churning of gallons of potent cum. The amplification of my balls was turning me quite literally into what I had asked for. I was becoming the very definition of a stud. My balls now felt filled to capacity with sperm, and every second I sensed my cum engines were creating more. I knew that I was now so potent that any woman I fucked would get pregnant with just a drop of my cum, not to mention the gallons that would be shot out when I finally did ejaculate. “Thank… God… I’m fucking… gay!! I’d have a billion kids!! I could repopulate this planet!!” My cock was an open faucet causing puddles of pre to appear on the couch cushions and dripping onto the floor. My fingers stroked the portobello mushroom sized head which caused me to audibly gasp. The shaft now looked ridiculous, like a pencil holding up the roof to a house! “Grow!!” I grunted, willing my shaft to stretch and swell along with the rest of my sex organ! Massaging and lifting the increasing weight of my balls, I felt them pulse and expand past the size of kiwis until they both rivaled ripe peaches. Never in my life could I imagine a human man with such ridiculously sized bull balls, but I was going to become more than the average human male. What I would turn into would be the epitome of the Alpha male… created for sex and pleasure… built to dominate, master, and control. I would be a new form of man that the world would lust for! I spread my legs wider and felt my ball-sack stretch closer to the floor, heaving and heavy with my peach sized testicles. As my balls grew, I noticed that my pre was changing as well… becoming more of a golden color, thicker and stickier like syrup. It was more than just a lubricant… it was the primer coating for fertilization with my sperm! “I… just… wanted to fuck… every guy… I… saw!! Instead… my wish… is transforming me… into… a stud… born to… breed!!” Suddenly, I felt a throbbing in the base of my cock. Looking down I saw that the skin of my shaft had begun to develop a beet red color and when I touched my hand to it, I felt it was hot to the touch. Then, with a loud grunt, I felt a massive push as more blood was forced into my cock causing it to expand. “Starting… to swell… growing… thicker…” I wrapped my hand around it only to discover that my thumb and pointer finger no longer touched anymore, and each time it throbbed, they got even further apart. I no longer recognized the cock I had been jerking and fucking with since I was 14! It was morphing into this angry tool of pleasure mixed with destruction, and I loved it. My shaft continued to balloon wider while my balls grew even more dense. The churning rising up from my sack was easily audible now, and as my balls continued to swell, it only got louder and more hypnotic. My own pheromones appeared to be growing stronger as a new scent rose up from my balls. It smelled of leather… wood… dirt… and primal sex. I found myself being turned on by my own scent. I couldn't imagine what it would do to anyone else. “No one… will be able… to resist… me!” I didn’t know how I knew this, but instinctively I knew that my pheromones would act as a spellbinding opiate, making me even more alluring and magnetic! I could only laugh as the gap between my pointer finger stretched from three… to four… to five inches. Thick veins erupted along the surface of my cock that now looked broader than a Pringles can. Much thicker! My cock had grown to over 5 inches long, but that was only due to the immensity of my cock. To me, it now resembled a fire hydrant; stumpy but meaty! I knew that anyone who saw my cock now would call me a freak, but I welcomed it. All of my life I had been average, but with the stone, all of that was going to change. Soon every man would be jealous of what he was packing in his jeans… and what he had become! Suddenly, I cried out and grabbed both sides of my head as a loud ringing noise filled it. With no warning, my mind was inundated with images, thoughts, ideas, sexual positions, massage techniques, and tongue artistry that could fill hundreds of books on sex! It felt like an unknown source was downloading every possible sexual idea or thought into my brain until I knew everything there was to know about sex with both men and women, and every way to bring pleasure to my partner… or partners. I knew how to watch for changes of breathing pattern, the flush of a chest, the rise in a pulse, or the change in pheromone intensity to indicate what a partner was enjoying or not enjoying. Even with a cock as thick and intimidating as mine, I knew how to bring hours and hours of pleasure to my partners along with myself, making me the most proficient lover in the world!!! I laughed and grunted as I discovered that I now relished every fetish imaginable. Nothing was taboo to me any longer. I could accomplish thousands of positions and pleasure myself or others for days. I opened my eyes and a world of endless sex lay before me. I found I had no other wants or needs but endless sexual pleasures. As my sexual knowledge grew vaster, I found I could now control my own pheromones, strengthening them until every person on earth would serve only me “I am… the definition… of a… stud…” I laughed and found the sound of my own voice entrancingly erotic. Then, a stabbing punch in the base of my massively thick cock caused me to groan. I watched with lustfulness as my cock finally proceeded to inch longer, soon passing six inches… seven inches… and then eight. When my cock grew past nine inches, I even wanted to worship at the altar to it. It was so incredible to look at… so beautiful… so masculine. It went perfectly now with my tight muscular body. All I wanted to do was walk around naked so the whole world could witness the mastery of what the male body could be. Uncontrollably, I began to stroke my cock, but each time I did, I had more area to cover. My entire house reeked of my scent, and the bigger my cock and balls grew, the stronger it became. I knew with one whiff I’d have an army of men at my feet ready to worship me. I felt a slight burning coming from my shaft, and watched as thicker, pipe-like veins began to erupt and snake around my cock. This new network succeeded in forcing more blood to the shaft, allowing it to grow even thicker and longer. Looking down at the rising leviathan, I watched as the head swelled larger and shot denser wads of golden pre further than before. There was barely a surface in the living room that hadn’t been marked by the bombardment of precum fired by my flesh bazooka. I didn’t think it could be possible, but the growth of my cock picked up speed, and in the blink of an eye, it was over ten inches and moving onto eleven. I would definitely need to wish for larger hands as they looked so tiny compared to the flesh cylinder I was currently stroking. I felt a sharp snap and watched the head mushroom further and swell larger than the width of the shaft. I suddenly had the desire to see what the poor souls would witness just before I fucked them. Standing up, I was shocked by the weight tugging at my groin. As I walked towards the bathroom, my enlarging sex organs swung and throbbed, slapping my quads and knees, leaving behind a trail of pre down the hallway. Turning on the light, I finally saw what I was becoming. No longer did I see Johnathan Briggs. I saw a cock that was a deep red, pulsating, buttress of masculinity that needed to be worshiped. I needed to be worshiped myself because I was now much more than a man. A small portion of me screamed out to go back to the stone and reverse the wish… call it off before it was too late. My subconscious knew that something wasn’t right and it was doing its best to figure it out… but my new self shoved it down and stifled it until it could no longer be heard. Looking deep within my eyes, intense carnal knowledge passed through my brain making me aware of the millions of ways I would be pleasuring myself. Most I had never imagined, but each one I was now willing and eager to try. Using both hands to stroke myself in front of the mirror, I watched as my cock grew even longer and thicker and soon it had passed twelve inches in length and was quickly approaching 13! My cock pulsed to the frenzied beating of my heart. Looking at myself in the mirror, I saw what the world would see, my body was now just a base on which my dominant cock existed. I was quickly metamorphosing into the very definition of a stud, a human fuck machine, and I knew that this was exactly what I had always wanted to be. “I will exist… merely to fuck… merely to breed… merely to give myself and others sexual pleasure!” With more determination, I stroked the entirety of my cock. It was now even more sensitive as millions of nerve endings rose closer to the surface granting me more pleasure. My cock had now surpassed the wished upon 13 inches and was quickly gaining on 14, while the shaft had to be over 9 inches thick. I didn’t know how this could be possible. I had been very specific when it came to the dimensions of my cock. I could only groan as my weighty balls began to rise up in my sack. My entire cock felt like it had been edged for days. I could barely think. My only thoughts were about my cock and the mounting pressure now building up in my balls. Suddenly, I began to uncontrollably grunt and groan as my entire body started to shudder and convulse. Soon, a river of my seed began to rise up the mighty stanchion and explode out of the bulbous head! A torrent of cum shot out of my cock like a cannon and quickly began to cover all areas of the bathroom. My cock grew even longer causing the cum to have to flow further and further up my shaft to exit into the world. I grabbed onto the sink to keep falling onto the floor as my orgasm grew in intensity. All I could do was moan and groan loudly as my cock ballooned. I tried to watch as it grew past 13 inches… 14 inches… 15 inches… 16 inches… My cum was no longer coming out in short bursts but in long continuous explosions that forced my entire body to flex. Lights flashed in front of my eyes as my body trampled and thrashed, forcing me onto my knees onto the bathroom floor. Finally, after five minutes of overwhelming orgasm and cumming, it began to fade. I gasped for breath as my cock shot a final eight ropes of cum followed by a drooling and then a dripping. Staggering backwards, I slammed into the wall of the bathroom and slid to the floor. I almost cried out as my sensitive ball sack hit the cold tile floor causing it to shoot one final thick wad of cum. My cock was still hard, and rose up like the monument it was. I couldn’t even comprehend its size. It was just so long… so thick… so monstrous! I grabbed at one of the drawers in my vanity and pulled out the measuring tape that I used to write down my body’s stats. Moving the tape down the shaft, I was dumbstruck as I saw that it was nearly 20” in length and 10” around… not to mention the head that rose up thicker and meatier than the shaft. Lifting my voluminous balls, I could already feel them churning and producing more sperm to be released in another torrential orgasm. I breathed slowly as my cock began to slowly deflate. Finally, at 13 inches, it was completely soft, or as soft as it ever would be. I stood up and walked back into the living room, exhausted but horny once again. Sitting onto the pre covered couch, I picked up The Stone of Agios. “What have you done to me? I wish…” I knew I shouldn’t do it. I knew that I should put the stone down and step away. Maybe return to it tomorrow after a night's sleep, or not even at all. Yet, wasn’t this what I always desired? I was repairing all of the mistakes of my own DNA. I was transforming myself into what I knew I truly was deep down inside. My cock hardened slightly as I gazed deep into the stone. “I wish… my body was like that of 7 foot tall barbarian, weighing over 550 lbs of pure muscle. My power and size are unrivalled in all the world, and my strength is legendary.” The stone began to pulsate and glow, but the words refused to stop flowing from my lips. “No! Not 7 foot tall. 8 foot… weighing over 700 lbs of pure muscle… No… 900 lbs! I’m a mountain of muscle… just muscle on top of muscle on top of muscle.” The stone on my hand glowed so brightly that it was hit to the touch. Pulling my hand away from it, it dropped to the floor and rolled under the table. To Be Continued...
  3. YoungHunk69

    Max’s Muscle Blog

    This is a new story I’m starting that will be written as several blogposts documenting the muscle growth of a guy from a stick to a god. I will update it once every day or every other day, and it will include pictures. Hi, I’m Max and this is a new blog I have created to follow my muscular progress. I’m about to start taking this new supplement called Alpha Mix. (I’ve heard it’s been banned in most countries). I’ll be taking it every day before I work out in my high school’s weight room. I’m super pumped to see if it helps my muscle growth! Here goes nothing! Day 1: Well, as you can clearly see, I’m not a very muscular guy. I just started working out again last week, so I’m pretty new to this. Every time I’ve started working out, it seems like all the other guys in the weight room seem to laugh at my skinny little body, so I’m hoping to get at least a bit bigger with the help of this Alpha Mix. Speaking of Alpha Mix, today was the first day I tried it, and even though nothing has changed, I felt strangely confident all day, and my whole body felt almost like it was throbbing under my skin after the workout. That’s definitely never happened before. Anyway, I jerked off a bit when I got home later, and I noticed something strange. My cock felt a little odd the whole time, and then my cum was a bit oozier then normal. I just shrugged it off, though. It must just be a weird side affect of Alpha Mix.
  4. Hey peeps, I've been working on a new project and thought I'd release the pages. Let me know what you think Here's the cover and first 2 pages: Cheers, George
  5. I dusted off an old, partially written story (I have many of them) and added a second chapter (and a few more). Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I should continue. The Storm Chapter 1 The storm was coming. Even though the forecasts and long range models still drew diverging pathways on the maps, and the meteorologists still spoke in percentages and probabilities, I could tell this storm was headed straight toward me. I also knew that where I lived and the beach where I loved to surf was going to take a full force hit. The outcome had already been determined, and only I knew with one hundred percent certainty what that outcome was going to be. Although the tropical depression was still days away from becoming a full fledge hurricane, and although it was at least a week away in distance, I could already feel it in the water, and I could feel it coursing through my body. Strength was building – both the storm’s intensity and my own. Last night’s invigorating midnight swim and dreams that followed as well as the more than usual abundance of the flesh in my morning hard-on were proof enough to me. Fuck! It felt good,… and it was big… bigger than before. The flesh was hard as any steel, and now it more than filled my hand. To boot, to the rhythm of my pleasure, my nutsack slapped against my thighs with more force than I recalled. My balls were fuller, bigger. I raised my fist and flexed my biceps as I continued jacking with my other hand. The muscle mounded up round and large and full. It wasn’t huge yet, but it was bigger than before, and large enough to make me gasp in self-appreciation. Fuuuck! I felt a tingling in my cock and in my balls. Power. I felt the power, and suddenly the strength was more than I could stand. I thrust my left hand to the base of my erection and stroked the nob and remaining seven inches with my right, abandoning my flex to coax the storm within me. My hard-on surged within my hand, and I could feel the tension building. Waves of pleasure caressed my ass and balls and perineum. It became too much, and I arched my back and felt my glutes and hamstrings cramp with pleasure. In anticipation, my entire body flexed, and I felt my muscles growing. The wave of tension built within me, and I inhaled and held a breath so large that I thought it might explode my chest, but my ribcage held together. Then I felt the second phase. The wave was cresting, and I knew the thrill was coming. I felt my sphincter spasm and my balls draw up as semen filled the reservoirs within my prostate. I shut my eyes shut so tight that I couldn’t pry them open, but I didn’t need to see in order to experience the vision in my mind. My body was expanding, just a bit for now, but more was coming. This moment before I came was all potential, and despite how much I loved the anticipation thrill, I knew the best was yet to come, and then it happened. My cock expanded in my hands as the wave of pleasure crashed upon me. My body shook, and I roared with pleasure as the motherload of all ejaculations vaulted ropes of white, hot cum from deep within my pelvis up my shaft and through the air in all directions. I lost my sense of being as I tumbled through the abyss of bliss. I smelled the ocean in the air and tasted its salty essence on my lips. It splashed across my face and chest and pooled between the ridges of my belly. The intensity was mind-blowing, and my orgasm lasted longer than expected, but in the end, the power of the wave dispersed and was replaced by a tranquil relaxation that deposited me breathless and tangled in my sheets. Exhausted, I relaxed completely on my bed and felt the force of gravity against my increased mass, the mattress pushing harder against my back and glutes and limbs, the heft of my cock and balls weighing more substantially upon my thighs. I could feel the force and power. I was bigger,… and I was stronger,… and I was going to grow again. The coming storm was my assurance, and it was going to be more powerful and destructive than anyone yet knew. Chapter 2 The vibration of my phone against the nightstand was enough to rouse me from my slumber. It was a text from Billy: Dawn Patrol That was it. Nothing else -- but nothing else was needed. The surf was rising, and “dawn patrol” meant that although the sun had not yet crested the horizon, Billy was headed for the water. Sand was probably already pushing up between his toes, board leashed to his left ankle, eyes fixed on the horizon, sensing, anticipating. I rolled on my side and looked out the window of my beachfront shack which was perched on stilts, just high enough to see the sandy beach beyond the dunes. A lone surfer’s silhouette against the sherbet dawn jogged across the sand, board held high. It was Billy. He wanted to catch a few good rides before the break filled with every Benny, Barney and Kook who would never be good enough to deserve the kind of break that was right out my window. Billy was a disciple of the sea. He lived for the ocean and the waves, and both of them were calling. I looked to the water beyond his silhouette, and my heart pumped. With the coming storm, the swell was gaining size and strength, and the curls were peeling in perfect, long, slow barrels with nothing but glassy water in-between. It was a surfer’s wet dream, and at least for now it was mine and Billy’s, ours alone. The ocean beckoned, and we were obligated to respond. I rolled out of bed and stepped into my favorite board shorts. As I pulled them up my muscled thighs, I couldn’t help but notice that they were tighter. My quads and hamstrings now strained against the cloth, making it hard to hoist them into place. I worked the fabric up and over the thickness of my glutes and had to strain to pull the waist up high enough to settle into place along the narrow of my lower back. I relaxed and exhaled loudly thinking that I had achieved my goal. But then I realized that when it came time to seal the deal, there was just no room left for my amped up bait and tackle. While the storm was gaining size and strength, so too was I. I could feel the power building, manifesting itself in me as strength and size. I felt the need to exert myself, to dominate - to lift something or crush something or fuck something, but there was nothing in my shack to foot the bill. I picked up the dumbbells by my bed, but they were only 35 pounders - inadequately light; so I did next what came most naturally to me. I flexed. I raised my arms into a double biceps pose, and I flexed hard, squeezing every muscle in my body with all my might, concentrating all my energy into the flex and luxuriating in the erotic pain and pleasure of my muscles cramping as they struggled one against the other. Feeling the tightness of the boardshorts against my by glutes and thighs, I sent more effort below my waist, flexing even harder, willing my legs and ass to grow. The fabric tightened, at first snuggly caressing every curve and hollow and then constricting with discomfort. I took a breath and changed my pose to a crushing most muscular pose, and I flexed harder than I had flexed in my entire life. My body shook with effort, and the glow of perspiration turned into beads of sweat that converged into rivulets of moisture that began to flow into the valleys between my bulging muscles. I crunched down even harder, stomping my foot against the floor, concentrating my efforts in my lower body and waiting for the moment when my trunks would split. But no matter how hard I flexed and twisted, I couldn’t cause the cloth to rip. It enraged me, and in one final blinding effort, I flexed with all my might, and I felt the fabric give. I had destroyed my boardshorts, and, I felt like I had won. I knew right then that from now on I would always win. I was Samson, Hercules and Poseidon all rolled up into one, and I would never be defeated. I relaxed my flex and surveyed the situation. The board shorts were ripped in no less than seven places. To say that they had merely ripped was to understate the situation. They had exploded! To cause such damage, I must have had a substantial growth spurt all at once. I caught my breath and admired the increased mass of muscle in my thighs, and then I noticed that my hands were also larger and that my forearms were twitching, muscular and swollen. I clenched my fists and rolled my wrists, marveling as the muscle bellies bulged. I then relaxed and I rolled my fingers, delighting as the individual muscles danced and flexed in a ballet upon my forearm. My vision traveled north, and when it reached my upper arms, I was unprepared for the effect the bulging muscle would have upon my loins. I bent my elbow slowly, and the unflexed biceps bunched and rounded as the triceps lengthened fully. My dick responded harder than it had ever been. It throbbed as I cast my eyes upon the mirror. In my ripped board shorts, my newly enlarged, pumped body bulging with strength and power and glistening with sweat, I looked like some amped up comic book hero – lean, heavily muscled and strong. I crossed my wrists at the level of my waist, and my thickened pecs flexed and thickened in striated glory. Then my arms began the slow, erotic, upward arc that I knew would end in a stunning double biceps pose, the likes of which I’d never seen. Something flipped a switch in me. My mind was focused, and a flurry of image fantasies flashed before my mind’s eye. Samson, Heracles, Poseidon. Muscle, Size, Power. That was all I wanted, and I could feel it all amassing in my body as I flexed. My vision cleared, and a gazed upon my reflection in the mirror. No longer a Marvel hero. I was a god! Big and strong and proud and proud. My hard-on looked enormous, and my ball sack bulged with its twin egg-sized cargo. The seed of deities flowed withing me, and finally it was more than I could handle. I stared at my reflection, the embodiment of maleness, strength and power, and I increased the effort of my flex and thrusted my pelvis forward. The dam was breaking. I could feel the anticipatory tingle around my ass and perineum and then the near panic as my ejaculatory reservoirs filled with semen. Finally, I was overcome with the erotic hammer of ejaculation and white, hot ropes for cum arced across the room, painting the mirror and my reflection with liquid adulation. Fuck! It had never felt so good, and with the pleasure came a cramping in my muscles that I knew would make me grow again. Intoxication of the pleasure overwhelmed me, crippling my mind and body. My flex began to fail, and I dropped one arm and wrapped my hand around my hardon and felt another bolt of pleasure. Before the first orgasm had fully ended, I stroked twice, and came again in spasms, more violent than before. When it ended, I was spent, and the drive to flex and fuck and cum subsided, if only for a while. For a moment, I was satiated, weak and breathless. I crumpled to the bed beside me and milked a few last few drops of glistening cum from my softening erection. I tasted the elixir, and its salty essence reminded of the ocean and how it called me. I was exhausted, but I knew the water would revive me. I needed the ocean, waves and water. I craved the power of the storm.
  6. Sizemologist

    Drunk On Cum

    Commission for an anonymous twitter user. After finding a magic spell to make his balls grow bigger, Afonso wants to test out his new equipment on his boyfriend Gus. Only to find there might be a few side effects that they didn’t expect. “Ah dee mah ress ven too mah tren, ah dee mah ress ven too mah tren,” Afonso chanted as the dust rained down onto his bare skin. “Ah dee mah ress ven too mah tren, jesh tin che die, jesh tin che die.” The purple dust began to glow on his skin as he continued to read from the small piece of paper in his hand. After stopping by a mysterious pop up store on his way home, Afonso purchased a fertility enhancer from its back room. The shopkeeper had sold him on saying that it would increase his potency 1000%. Afonso hadn’t actually believed the strange man until he could feel his balls tingling as he chanted. “What the fuck? This is actually working?” asked Afonso to himself. He could feel the tightness in his balls growing as he resumed chanting. After reading the entire piece of paper, the glowing dust faded into his dark skin and he felt his balls stop filling up. Afonso looked down past his little belly to see his limp dick lying on two big pairs of balls. He reached down and held one of his balls in his sack feeling its new heft. They were the size of baseballs and felt twice as heavy with cum. “I can’t believe this actually worked.” Afonso grabbed the box off his bathroom counter and read the instructions: Read the spell to self before reading it out loud. It is written phonetically so read it as written. Read the spell aloud. Sprinkle the purple dust material onto bare skin as you do so. It is recommended to be unclothed for this step, but not required. Enjoy the growth ;^) “Afonso! Babe! I’m home!” came a voice from the other room. “Coming Gus!” shouted back Afonso as he began pulling up his pants and pulling down a t-shirt. Afonso made his way out of the bathroom to the living room to see his partner Gus just getting home from the gym. “Hey there, stud,” said Afonso as he wrapped his arms around Gus’s waist and kissed him. “How was leg day?” “Pretty good. Got a nice pump goin,” said Gus as he flexed his glutes. The extremely lean guy felt his boyfriend’s hand on his butt at the mention of it. “That’s great bud. I got a surprise for you,” said Afonso as he twisted his body with excitement. “A surprise? You didn’t need to get me anything. It’s not even my birthday,” said Gus as he giggled at his boyfriend’s excitement. “What kind of surprise?” “A fun surprise. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll just show you.” said Afonso as he pushed Gus onto the couch. Once Gus was on the ground, he could see Afonso’s bulge clearly sticking out a lot further than usual. Afonso started taking off his pants again and he pulled the waistband over his dick to reveal a massive set of balls behind it. “Woah babe. How did…your balls…what the…babe how’d your balls get so big?” asked Gus as his eyes bulged out of his head at the sight of Afonso’s big sack. “Long story short, I did this spell I found at a shop that I saw on my way home. I didn’t think it would work either if I couldn’t feel how big they were,” said Afonso as he twisted his hips to make his balls swing. The big globes hit his thighs with a heavy loud slap and Afonso could feel the cum sloshing around inside. “Are you sure that’s safe? They might be swollen from an infection.” Gus looked at the big set of balls and narrowed his eyes. “You got this from some random shop?” asked Gus apprehensively. “Babe, I swear it’s safe. Here watch.” Afonso wiggled his legs out of his pants and walked over to the bathroom attached to the living room and their bedroom. “It is just some ancient herbal remedy to improve fertility in one’s self.” Afonso walked back out of the bathroom with the box of dust and the small piece of paper. He started sprinkling the dust on his body and chanting the spell. “Afonso? What are you doing?” Afonso kept chanting and the dust started glowing. “What the?” Gus watched a purple hew emanate from Afonso as his balls started to swell again. “How is this possible?” “Why question it?” asked Afonso as he finished the spell. “I know that you’ve been wanting a particular fantasy to come true and I don’t know if this will be enough to satisfy that, but it’s a step in that direction.” Afonso sat down on the couch and kissed Gus passionately. Running his hands through his jet black hair. His other hand groping his big muscles. His biceps were the size of baseballs and his pecs were like small books strapped to his chest. Feeling Gus’ aggressive abs as they made out. “Well my ass already took a beating in the gym, what’s one more?” Gus laughed and resumed his kiss with his big boyfriend. Gus grabbed his shirt and began taking it off in between making out with Afonso. Shucking his gym shorts off his toned body easily along with his underwear. Afonso also took his shirt off and pressed his bare skin up against Gus’s. “How do you think we should do this?” “Lean up against the counter,” said Afonso as he stood up fast feeling his now grapefruit sized nut swing. Gus quickly got up and followed Afonso over to the kitchen counter where Gus presented his toned ass to him. Looking over Gus’ muscular back, Afonso admired every ridge and curve his boyfriend had. Tracing his fingers through the expansive back. “Buns of steel babe.” Afonso caressed the muscular cheeks as he pressed his dick into Gus’s crack. Gus’s body differed greatly from Afonso’s. Nearly void of all fat on his body, Gus prided himself on his lean athletic build. Afonso on the other hand had some pudge to him including a belly that now pressed into Gus’s vascular back. “Ready babe?” “Sure big guy. Give it to me,” said Gus as he felt the head of Afonso’s cock enter his ass. With a sharp inhale, Gus felt an intense pressure in his hole already even though Afonso just started. Afonso moaned loudly as he felt his dick get strangled by his lover’s ass. “Did your dick grow bigger too to accommodate those tankers? I already feel full as fuck,” asked Gus as he felt Afonso’s balls slam into his cheeks as he felt the base of the cock against his ass. “Maybe, but who knows. I’m just enjoying how good this feels.” Afonso continued to moan as he began to bring his cock out of Gus’ ass just to slam it back in. Getting into a rhythm as his balls hit Gus’s ass with a slap as loud as thunder. “What do you mean you already feel full? We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.” Afonso smiled to himself as he could feel his balls getting heavier. They were already full before he started fucking Gus, but now he was getting turned on and his balls were being put into overdrive. The grapefruit sized orbs began to inflate again. Steadily filling up more and more going from grapefruit to soccer balls in a short time. Afonso could feel their heavy weight swinging back and forth as he thrusted. “I hope you don’t mind being the big one in the relationship after I start cumming cause I think I might get you bigger than our couch.” Afonso leaned forward and kissed Gus’s neck as he moaned in pleasure. His thrusts had to slow down from the sheer weight his balls were putting on his lower body. Gus practically screamed out in ecstasy as his boyfriend fucked him passionately. It felt like Afonso was getting to places he never even knew could be touched. Gus looked down and gasped at his distended gut. “Holy shit, babe, I’m filling up.” Gus’ mouth hung open as he watched with every plunge of Afonso's dick, the orb that was his belly steadily grew larger. He put his hands on it and could feel the pre sloshing around inside. “Afonso hold on, this is a lot of pre already and you haven’t even started cumming,” stated Gus out of breath feeling all of his abs start to disappear behind his growing cum gut. “I know, right? Isn’t it awesome.” Afonso grinned and brought his hand down to his lover’s belly. He rubbed it tenderly and felt the tiny pulses of pre from his cock. “Babe, I’m not sure about this. I already feel…feel *urp* pretty tight.” Gus watched in awe as his stomach continued to distend away from him. At this point, Gus' belly was beginning to look like he swallowed a basketball whole. It had gotten so big that it began to push against the counter in front of Gus. “Woah, I’m getting so *umf* big.” Gus felt surprisingly fine despite going from 6-pack abs to a gut beginning to rival the size of a watermelon. “I know, and I can’t wait for you to get even bigger.” Afonso tried to speed up his thrusts as much as he could, but the weight of his balls were getting strenuous on him. He looked down in astonishment to see his balls had grown to the size of beach balls. His heavy sack swinging below his knees and almost dragging on the floor. “We may need to change positions here in a sec.” “Agreed, my belly is getting so full *HIC* that I’m stuck between the counter and your body,” said Gus with glee as he patted his big cum gut that was now spreading along the counter in front of him. And he continued to expand. The giant orb of cum pushing downward along the cabinets in their kitchen and up onto the counter in front of Gus. “I feel so warm *hic*.” Gus started to giggle as Afonso’s pre began to tamper with his mind. “Come on big guy. Let’s get to the couch.” Afonso grabbed the sides of Gus’ belly and started to hoist the big man up and walk him over so that his belly could rest on the couch. The once short walk to the couch now felt like an eternity as Gus waddled with his massive belly sticking out a foot or two in front of him. It didn’t help that Afonso’s nuts had grown so large that now they were dragging on the floor behind him. Once the pair made it to the couch, Gus couldn’t plop his belly down faster. “God, that thing is heavy. I must have a few gallons of your pre in me at this point.” said Gus as he rubbed his massive stomach and it continued to expand in front of him. “Don’t worry, the main show is about to begin.” Now that Afonso’s balls had grown so big he could rest them on the ground, he could put more strength into fucking Gus instead. With reignited passion, Afonso resumed pounding Gus’ bubblebutt. Gus let out a loud moan as his he felt his belly swell out visibly as Afonso kept fucking him. “Fuck babe, I’m getting so *hic* massive. It’s like I’m a giant water bed.” Gus laughed out loud as he ran his hands all over his belly that sprawled out many feet in front of him now. It covered multiple couch cushions as it creeped forward in size. Afonso got confused for a brief second when he heard his practical boyfriend laugh about how big he was getting. “You okay Gus? I’m surprised you’re so relaxed while this happens.” “Babe, look at me. My belly is the size of a chair and it feels soooooooo warm. Like I just put myself in the microwave and grew like a big ole marshmallow,” said Gus with a smile on his face. “Are you drunk or something babe?” asked Afonso as he kept pounding away at Gus’ ass. “Drunk on your cum maybe.” Gus giggled and let out a couple of hiccups before moaning again as his belly hit the other end of the couch. “Woah, I think I might be bigger than a car now.” Gus felt his belly being forced to grow outwards now that it had hit the wall on the other side of their couch and was now filling up the living room. “God you look so hot this big. I can’t get enough of how big you’re getting. My perfect big cum balloon.” “That’s not the only thing I’m good for.” Gus leaned against his growing orb of a gut and began to flex his glutes. Afonso moaned in pleasure as his lover’s ass massaged his cock in rhythm with his thrusts. “Fuck, you’re not making it easy to hold this back babe.” Afonso patted his beanbag sized nuts behind him. Each one contained gallons of cum ready to shoot into Gus. “Don’t hold back babe. Let it all out. I’m your big cum balloon. Just like you *HIC* said. Blow me up and make me your cum blimp,” said Gus as he squeezed his hole and milked Afonso’s cock. “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!” Afonso let out a roar and started having the best orgasm of his life. His giant balls bucked as they began pouring gallons and gallons of cum out of Afonso’s dick a second. He was in a trance as he jackhammered his body against Gus’ in a frenzied state. Gus’s eyes opened wide as the cum poured out of Afonso’s cock and into him. His belly began to inflate with size at an alarmingly fast rate. A loud crash rang out in the room as the couch gave out under the weight of the growing belly. Gus watched in astonishment as his belly gained a foot of size in every direction per second. Soon the sides of his belly were touching the three walls in front of and beside him and the top was already covering up more of the ceiling. “Woah, I’m gettin so *hic* full!” Gus rubbed his rotund belly as it began to feel tight. “I can’t stop Gus! It’s not going to stop anytime soon!” Afonso yelled out as his balls began to deflate from the massive load they were pouring into Gus. He leaned forward and felt his boyfriend’s cum gut and was amazed at how stretchy Gus’ skin was. It was firm, but he could definitely tell that there was plenty of give left in the growing cum balloon. “How big am I *UUURRPPP* gonna get babe?” Gus was beginning to feel cramped. He can’t even see in front of him anymore. His view is only of his growing belly. Cum inflating him so much that he felt the walls beginning to push back against his growing orb. The light from the window beside them began to darken as the belly eclipsed it. “I don’t know how much bigger I can *unf* get.” “Where’d that enthusiasm go, big guy? I thought you wanted me to let loose.” Afonso grabbed the sides of Gus’ belly and forced his cock deep into Gus’ cheeks. Cum spurted out the side of Afonso’s hips as he started to cum like a fire hose. Afonso had gone from shooting shots into Gus to having a continuous hose of cum shooting out of his cock. He watched his vision start to get obscured around them as the cum blimp began to surround them. “Babe, I don’t *URP* I don’t thi-*URP* I don’t think the house *UUURRRPPPP* can take it!” Gus was feeling drunker on Afonso’s cum by the second as his belly filled the entire living room and into the doorways towards the bedroom and dining room. Gus’ eyes shot open as a visible crack could be seen across the ceiling. Bringing his senses back to reality, he could feel his belly in front of him taking up more and more space as the walls and windows began to bow against his massive weight. “You said you wanted to be a cum blimp babe! Get ready for it!” Afonso moaned out loud as Gus’ belly surged in size. The sides grew out beside them and into the kitchen behind them. Afonso’s cum was getting Gus’ belly to an unfathomable size. They both looked up as sprinkles of dust fell from the ceiling onto them. “Shit, maybe I did overdo it a little,” griped Afonso as large cracks began forming in the walls. A loud thud echoed throughout the neighborhood as a giant fleshy ball the size of a bouncy castle emerged from the house. Gus’ belly had outgrown the front wall of their house and continued to grow into the front yard. Flattening the flower bed in front of the window and taking out more and more of the wall as it grew outwards. “Fuck *HIC* there goes the *URP* house.” moaned Gus as he felt his belly tear down a portion of their house. “Babe *URP* I feel so *UUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPP* full.” Gus burped and hiccuped some more as he felt his thought to be infinitely stretchy belly start to tighten. Gus felt his massive weight pushing against every side of him. Then he could feel the walls beside him also start to break under his giant belly. The ceiling above had crumbled into pieces as he expanded into the second floor of the house. And his loving boyfriend Afonso was still pressed hard into his back. Afonso’s mind had begun to drift into ecstasy. The high he was riding from his orgasm was immaculate. “I think it’s almost over, big guy. Don’t worry.” Afonso lovingly patted Gus’ belly. It felt as tight as a drum now compared to last time. “And not a moment too soon.” Afonso kissed Gus’ cheek as he felt his stream of cum turn into shots and eventually putters. “That was incredible babe. How do you feel?” “Bloated. Very, very bloated. *HIC*” Gus threw his head back as he started to get used to the tightness and his goofy smile returned. Gus was massive beyond his comprehension. His belly had grown so much, extended out into their front yard and up almost into the attic. It was the only thing really keeping the house together as it knocked out almost half of the walls. “You look incredible, Gus. My giant cum blimp.” Afonso leaned forward and kissed his big boyfriend many times on the neck. “So sexy. So big. I can’t believe this actually worked.” “Oh yeah *HIC* it worked alright. I feel silly,” said Gus with a slur to his words. “Yeah, you definitely are drunk babe. I didn’t even know cum could get you drunk.” “That’s probably cause *HIC* no one has ever been this full of cum *HIC* ever.” Gus chuckled to himself as he felt the sun warming up his big belly outside. “I’ll say. Let me go see the damage outside.” Afonso pushed against Gus’ now ample ass and popped out of him with not a drop escaping Gus’ hole. Afonso took stock of their now Gus filled house. Their living room and kitchen were entirely filled with the big belly. Walking outside, Afonso saw just how gargantuan Gus had gotten. His belly had spilled out into their front lawn and almost onto the sidewalk in front of it. Afonso let out a long whistle as he leaned against Gus’ belly. “Wow babe, we’ll need to go on one hell of a diet to get this belly to go down.” Afonso reached forward and patted the giant orb only to be followed by a jerk from the belly and a moan from inside the house. “Gus? Gus honey, what was that?” Afonso didn’t get an answer before the belly jolted again and the moans got louder. Afonso ran inside and stared at Gus as his body quivered. “Gus, what’s happening? Are you okay?” “It feels like my whole body is getting a blow jo-OOOHHHHH!!!” Gus moaned and his whole body shuddered. Afonso’s eyes widened when he saw his boyfriend’s body get bigger. Again Gus moaned as his body shook and Afonso stared as Gus’ toned body began to plump up with muscle. “Babe, you’re growing again!” shouted Afonso getting next to Gus. He looked at his once normal biceps swelling up to the size of basketballs. His shoulders got broader as his pecs started pushing forward into his big belly. “Babe, I just finished growing with all your cum *HIC* I don’t need anymoooooohhhh!” Gus moaned for a long time and his belly visibly jumped as his body surged bigger. Afonso looked up at his boy friend’s head as it started to approach the ceiling. His once toned bubble butt was getting fuller and fuller as it blew up like a balloon. Each of his now fat ass cheeks looked like yoga balls pressing up against Afonso. “Babe, I’m not fucking you again. I think your body is processing all the cum I put in you.” Afonso watched in awe as Gus continued to moan and grow. All while his belly began to shrink into him. Gus’s head started to brush against the ceiling. His already long legs were extending and beefening with size on them. Gus could hardly form a thought at this point. Between the ecstasy he was feeling with every growth spurt that wracked his body and the cum drunkenness, he could hardly process what was going on to him. Only when he felt the ceiling firmly pressing down against him did he look around and see Afonso, now only up to his hips, staring up at him in shock and horniness. “Woah babe, you shrunk.” Gus chuckled as he let out another low loud moan that shook their whole house. His body swelling and stretching bigger as his belly shrank more. His head almost went through the ceiling before Gus plopped his fat ass down and spread his legs out around each side of his belly. “Gus, sweetie, listen to me. You’re still growing. We need to get out of here before the whole house comes down.” Afonso grabbed onto his giant lover’s massive arm and tried to pull him towards the door to avail. Afonso could barely wrap his arms around Gus’s now chair-sized bicep that swelled even bigger as he tugged. “Afonso, it’s no big deal. I’ll protect my little guy from anything.” Gus reached down and plucked Afonso up like he was a doll and put him on his expansive chest. “You’ll be safe up here little guy.” Gus let out another moan and finally could see daylight peeking in through the massive hole his belly had created. But not before he felt his head pressing into the ceiling again now sitting down. He must’ve been 20 feet tall by now and he was only swelling bigger. Afonso looked up as Gus’ head crumpled the ceiling above them like it was paper. His shoulders and arms destroyed the walls around them as their entire house began to fall down. Gus practically screamed in ecstasy as he felt his giant cum gut shrink enough to let his now hyper cock leap out from under his belly. Now 15 feet long and leaking pre out flooding their now destroyed living room. Gus felt all of his body pressing against every wall and ceiling left in the house until with a giant roar that could be heard for miles, he came and hulked out of the rubble of their house. His cock shooting cum out like a geyser, coating the whole neighborhood. “Ahhh that felt awesome, babe. How’s my little guy doing?” Asked Gus as he looked down at the now much smaller Afonso. Afonso looked around and took in his giant boyfriend’s body. Sitting on pecs bigger than king size mattresses and squishy for him to lay on, looking down seeing a still full cum gut on the now giant Gus. Looking up and seeing his boyfriend towered over their two story house sitting, he couldn’t even imagine just how tall he was. “I’m good babe. Kinda shocked you’re so chill about being so big now,” said Afonso. Climbing up Gus’ pecs and onto his shoulder to give him a kiss. Looking down at his muscles, Gus had grown from a toned athletic body to a beefy build. His quads were thicker than a semi-truck. His pudgy belly looked like it could fit a few small cars inside. And his biceps were bigger than Gus’ already massive head. “I like it babe. I like being able to cuddle and protect my little man.And it’s always nice to be bigger because I love wrapping my now giant arms around you. I bet cuddling with these muscles will be the best.” Gus lifted his arm up and hugged himself. Squishing his pecs up towards his face. “ButI think I could get even bigger. Think you could pump more cum into me?” Gus brought his big hand up to poke Afonso’s deflated balls. “I think that could be arranged, big guy.” Afonso leaned forward and planted a kiss on Gus’ giant lips. Smiling devilishly as he started to chant again.
  7. TimHayes90

    Angry in the gym

    Here is a little RP which I made into a POV story. Let me know what you think! Giving first person POV a go. Ryan I walk into the locker room. “Where are you, you weak little cunt? I’ve had one fuck of a workout and I need a hole to get off in!” Ethan I hear your loud, deep voice yelling for me coming into the locker room! I panicked and run into the nearest locker, closing the door and trying to stay quiet as you stomp in. I think to myself, “will he find me?” Ryan “I can smell you, you smell like fear. Makes me HOT”. I’m so horny as I March around. I look at the sick veins on my arms, getting hard at knowing I’ve got the power to rape Ethan. Ethan I hear you as you threaten me, knowing if you find me my body is all yours. I start to sweat, shivering in fear as I hear lockers opening and closing as you search for me. You become more angry and frustrated as time goes by, your horny body wanting to get a hold of me. Ryan “Hey Ethan. I know you told coach you’ve been me on roids. You’ve got no idea what I’m doing to myself, you shit. I’m injecting the strongest stuff to make me a FREAK. It’s making me unstoppable”. I’m now leaking as I admit my roid addiction. I slam my fist into a locker, bending it in half. Ethan My head starts to become dizzy as I hear those words come out of Ryans mouth. “Who told him that I told coach about his steroid addiction, and now he’s admitted to it!” I think to myself. I am almost crying now, fearing you will find me and throw me out the locker to do anything to me. Ryan Im now too horny and full of roid rage to even think straight. “Ethan! That does it. I want you to know how much this body can do to you!” I pick up a barbell and start to bend it. “URRHHHHHH YEA. IM STRONGER THAN STEEL”. My roided up cock burst free of my boxers as my shirt ripped apart at my display of power Ethan I look through the vents of the locker to see Ryan curling a 50lb dumbbell in his one arm. I see his shirt has ripped and is displaying his massive pecs, ripped arms, and 6 pack. I start to get nervous as he gets closer to me, but start jerking my cock to his huge body. Ryan “Grrrr Ethan. Im feeling so super jacked. I might even give you a private show - you know I’m into roids? But did you know how much I like to overdose? Well, you little shit, ive never shown anyone what a freak I am. But you deserve this”. I grab my bag and pull out five syringes. Ethan I look and see you bring out 5 syringes of steroids and see that it’s true, you actually are on steroids. I sit in fear as I know what’s going to happen to you, and I can’t stop it. I think to myself “no, Ryan don’t do it! Your going to grow and find me even faster!”. I lock the locker and it makes a click sound Ryan I heard the click. I knew where you are. Finally - an audience to watch me become a MONSTER. I grab the locker door and rip it off. “Hello bitch”. I see your veiny dick. “Ethan. Your cock is almost as veiny as my arm!” I flex my bicep next to you. Ethan I watch as you walk to my locker and pull on the handle. It’s locked, so Ryan can’t open it. You become frustrated and rip the door off to see my cock out and me staring at you. You flex you bicep in front of me and I fall to the ground, fear taken over my body. Ryan “Well Ethan. You wanted roids. So here you go!” Even I was a little nervous - the most I had ever done was 2, but I forced 2 into my arms, 1 into my neck and butt, and I locked eyes with Ethan as I also injected my cock. “YEA WATCH ME GROW”! I felt insane amount of mass pour into me. I felt the veins pumping new power to my swollen muscles. Ethan I see Ruan inject needles into his body, fearing for his life. “Tim, let go of me! Your crazy, why would you inject so much in one time.” I feel as you tighten your grip on me and I can’t escape. Your muscles start to enlarge and I secretly like watching it. Ryan I watch Ethan become harder and start to cry as I swell up. “Yesssssss I’m so yoked!” I flex harder than ever. The veins are so sick now they are criss crossing my abs. My cock is dripping almost a pint of pre into the floor. My arms are 4 inches bigger than minuets before. “ETHAN. THIS IS FOR YOU” Ethan I watch as you grow into a muscle monster! “Ryan, what are you doing to yourself! Your getting huge!” I start to jerk my cock as you grow, but still concerned for your health as you have tears coming from your eyes Ryan The change is so extreme that I can’t take it. I roar as the overdose takes over and my shoulders expand even more. I grab you by the neck and force you onto my enhanced cock
  8. RoseConspiracy

    Fight Night *Revised*

    "Geezus, Cage! Get him off the fucking fence!” I yell. I see your arms wrap around Sanders’ middle section yet again, but the piece of shit has been holding on to the cage all goddamn night. I’m not sure what the hell the ref is doing-- if he’s been paid off by Sanders’ team or if he really just doesn't see it. I see you duck your head as you release Sanders’ but it’s a second too late and his left hook lands successfully on the side of your head. I wince as I see the red spray and your head whip to the side. Feedback comes from your right ear, trickling down the side of your cheek. You should have been able to block that punch, but you’re right eye is swollen shut. It’s been your downfall since the start of the third round. “C’mon baby! You’ve got this!” I scream at the top of my lungs again, willing my voice to reach you over the roar of the crowd. I’m not sure if you actually hear me or not, but I see a nod and a grin spread across your face as you throw a blind punch to Sanders’ abdomen. I smile too as I watch the air and spit get forced out of his mouth. That seemed to be all the encouragement you needed as you struck another blow. You manage a composed left hook to his cheek, being able to see out your left eye. Surprisingly, the punch knocks Sanders’ head to the side with enough force to cause him to go down. You’re on him in a heartbeat, relentlessly delivering punch after punch with your left hand. It doesn’t last long though as you’ve left your right side vulnerable. Of course Sanders attacks with a low blow the second he gets an opening. “Oh for fucks sake!” I scream, tugging on my brunette locks as I watch the referee shrug and do nothing. Sanders’ fist lands on an already bruised region in your rib cage, I see you cry out before doubling over in pain. Your knee drops to the canvas, a taunting smile plays on Sanders’ lips as he stands over you. I try to bolt forward as I see his fist reel back. He screams as he throws the punch and it lands satisfyingly across your face. Your head snaps back and then your entire body seems to go limp. “Cage!” I scream out but the body guards you’ve hired hold me back. Aside from the sound of my own frantic sobs, there’s a pin drop silence in the stadium-- no cheers or waving signs or even any flashing lights. It’s like the entire venue stands still as they gape down at your motionless body. Not a single muscle twitches and if it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of your chest, I’d probably have thought you were dead. My eyes sting as they flick over to the ref. He lets out a breath before rushing to your side. He starts tapping the canvas on a countdown and the crowd finally seems to blink out of their stupor. “One!” his hand slams next to your head. “Two--” I wrestle out of Aaron and Julian's grasps as I see you push up to your feet. I fly down the steps to the ring as the referee blows his whistle and the three ring bell signals the end of the round. Your coach shakes his head as he sees me approach. “It doesn’t look good, kid,” he says. But I ignore him as I rush into the cage, pushing past the sea of trainers and paramedics to get to you. “You can’t be in here,” the referee snarls as he sees me enter the ring. My hair flies out around me as his large hand grips my upper arm and whips me back towards him. “And who’s going to stop me?” I growl. My eyes narrow slightly as I press my chest against his black and white striped shirt. His nostrils flare as he looks down at me but there’s no way I’m backing down. “How much are they paying you anyways?” I tilt my head to the side, my words ending with a slight snarl. I can feel his grip immediately loosen and I wrench my arm free. As I turn back around I sigh slightly in relief. You’re sitting up now at least, and somewhat back to your feisty self. I can see you swat at the hand of an EMT as he presses his fingers to your ribs. “Cage!” Immediately you look up at me and a tight smile strains your lips. You raise your left arm to catch me, and though I know you’re in tremendous pain, you know I need this. Need to hold you, feel you. I hiccup slightly as the tears fall freely now. “I should have given you this earlier,” I cry. I shake my head sadly as I pull a tiny yellow tablet from out of my back pocket. “I’m so sorry baby, this is all my fault.” “Hey, hey, hey. Stop that.” You shush me as you cup my face with your hands, turning my head slightly to look up at you. “This was not your fault,” you say. “This was nobody's fault but my own. Sanders is prepared. He’s faster than I anticipated, stronger. He has moves--” “Yeah, illegal ones!” I cut you off as I angrily grind my jaw. Quickly I glance at the bastard over my shoulder and it dawns on me, he wasn't nearly this big last night. “What a coward!” I shake my head. With those giant arms of his, at this point, I’m thinking it’s even a miracle you’re still alive. I hear the ref tell the med team to get out and I lean forward to press my lips against yours. As I suddenly pull back I shove the capsule into your mouth. “Baby-- mmph!” I clamp my hand over your mouth as I reach down for your red and white sports bottle. “I need you to win,” I whisper against your ear. I tilt your head back before pouring the water into your mouth. With just a single gulp, you immediately start to look better. The swelling around your eye diminishes and if I’m not mistaken, your muscles look a little more pumped. Suddenly I find myself being pulled backwards by a pair of powerful, sweat-soaked arms wrapping around my midsection. Glaring bright lights flash in my face as I feel a set of thin lips press harshly against my own. “Soon I’ll have taken his title, his money, and then-- I’ll even take his girl!” I push back against Sanders’ sweaty chest in disgust. Snarling before slapping him hard across the cheek. Out of the corner of my eye I see you rise. Your slightly ballooning pecs heave as you roll your head back and forth against now much more massive shoulders. Even your shorts start to ride up, revealing deep cuts in your thick powerful legs. The changes are too subtle for anyone outside of the cage to notice, but I can see them. And as Sanders slowly starts to back up, I know he does too. I blink once and swear you look even bigger. The veins crawling over your biceps bulge as they pump even more power into the mounds of muscle. You were a beast before. But now– now you're becoming a monster. You grin at my gasp as I watch you flex your entire body. Your lats flare out, almost like you're growing wings and your traps rise just a little bit higher too. With two long strides, you move forward and pull me back from Sanders. I can feel your body hulking out around me, filling ever so slowly with even more insane muscle. “Call it,” you growl. Sanders looks over at the referee and gives a tiny shake of his head. The ref turns to you, and a look of fear flashes in his eye as he watches your ever broadening frame rise and fall. That's right you sons of bitches. Sanders had somehow gotten his hands on one of the same pills I gave you, but clearly you were born to be alpha. “Call the fucking round. Now!” I shiver at the deepening timbre and authority in your voice. Your one arm wraps around me, tightly, pulling me in for a long, needy kiss. You release me suddenly and shove me out of the cage. Pointing to somewhere behind the crowd. “Wait for me, and be ready.” Your tone leaves no room for discussion. I slowly head up the stairs, listening to the sounds of you beating Sanders into a bloody pulp. I hear him let out a scream, so guttural and ear-splitting, I know you’ve broken something of his. I barely make it back into the tunnel when I hear the MC and the ring of the final bell. “And winner by way of TKO- Cage Jamison!” I can hear the crowd erupt into a roar of approval, but I don't turn around. I proceed to the locker room and wait, just like you tell me to. A few minutes go by when the door opens abruptly. Your large frame fills the entire doorway and I'm barely able to catch glimpses of the media frenzy behind you. I jump up immediately and rush to your side. “Fuck baby--" I gasp, but you cut me off with a growl. Your eyes burn with need and you look so damn big, so intimidating and strong. I know it's pointless to argue. Especially as you kick the door to the locker room shut behind us. I notice how your nostrils flare and your chest heaves as you look down at me from your impressive six-foot-ten height. Somehow that tiny pill had turned you into a hulking demigod.  "I warned you to be ready for me..." My eyes widen at the deepness in your voice. I push slightly against your monstrous sweat slicked body, but you don't stop moving forward. There's no way by now that the crowd hadn't noticed the changes in your physique. "So I'll only ask you once-- are you?" I tense as your warm breath fans against my soft skin. "No," I say weakly. "I just--"  You nuzzle my earlobe as your big, warm hands roam the length of my body. I'm barely able to think as your strong fingers slide up underneath my shirt and teak one of my rock hard nipples. "You just what?" You whisper. The muscles in your back and shoulders go rigid as you slam your other hand alongside me, boxing me in.  I'm trembling visibly, shuddering with each passing second. I'm unable to focus on anything but your touch. Your thick, muscled quad is shoved deliciously between my thighs. Every bulge, every flex ignites something inside me that aches for more. My hands greedily explore the planes of your chest before dipping down below, pressing my fingertips into the ridges of your six pack. It's your massive arms though that I love the most. Slowly, I drag my palms over the bulging peaks. Your body vibrates with the immense potential of your strength. You look down at me and smirk, knowing how easily you could dominate me-- knowing I wouldn’t have the strength to resist you. With a soft moan I tilt my head to the side. "I just--" was all I could manage to reply.  "Just remembering that you're mine?" As your lips crash into mine, they leave a wet trail down my jaw to my exposed neck. Suddenly you pull away, your fingertips caress my cheek. You raise up to loom over me again and with one look at your face, I know you’re going to take me-- right here, right now. “Cage,” I whimper. "You belong to me." I gasp as your lips assault me and your strong fingers dig into my hip bone. Fuck. If I don't have bruises there tomorrow, I'll be surprised. As your lips hungrily trail down my jaw to my neck, my brain refuses to form sentences. Hell, it was difficult to even think of words.  "Wait," I finally cry out. Arching my back, I shove against your heavily muscled and very naked torso, but this action only seems to arouse you more. Snarling with excitement, you pin me even harder against your body. It’s as if you’re trying to show me your strength-- your dominance. I can't help the slight moan that escapes my lips. My body melts into yours. You know how crazy you make me. Your muscles, your power, your dominance. "I’m not going to be able to stop,” you warn. Your voice has grown so much rougher, more deep and sexy-- it’s hard for me to deny you. My flesh feels like it’s on fire as you force my legs around your waist. I’m practically aching for your lips to lick and soothe my searing, white hot flesh. I clutch at your impossibly large shoulders, massive traps and thick, bulging delts-- unsure if I can pull you any closer than you already are. I need to feel you, worship you and marvel at your superhuman, overpowered body. Your hand lowers between us and I feel your fingers shove my thong aside. I hiss slightly as you cup me roughly before letting a digit slip between my swollen folds. "Cage!" My voice returns full force as I feel your hardness pulsing between my thighs. I need a moment to mentally prepare but you give none. Your breathing becomes ragged and your lips quickly move to mine. Your tongue demands that I give, that I submit, but we both know that's not in my nature. I shove against you once more, but you grab my wrists with one hand and pin them high above my head so I can't move. Pulling back, your burning gaze angrily meets my own. I watch as your eyes take on a darkened gleam. "You enjoy this, don't you?" Your chest swells with pride. "Your body wants me. Craves a strong, powerful man that can either protect or dominate you." I struggle against you for a moment, the words, "you're delusional," fall from my lips. With a roar, your hips move against me before sliding your erection over my damp sex. I'm not even sure when you had shredded your pants. "Don't lie to me baby girl," you snarl. "I can sense your excitement." As your head falls against my neck, you let out a groan as if in agony. "I need you." Your voice grows softer as you rock your body against mine seeking entry. "I need to be inside you." I feel you lower me slightly before raising your hips to impale me. "Oh shit," I moan. Apparently even your cock had been affected by that pill. You feel longer, thicker, harder. Usually I loosen up after a few good strokes. But fuck, not tonight. I’m panting now, the air is ripped out of my lungs by your forceful thrusts. I can feel every thick vein and hard ridge as it slides deliciously inside me. Your grunts and snarls signal me that you're close. Suddenly your arms pull me closer as my body spasms against you. “Oh god, Cage!” I shout breathlessly as I hold on to you for dear life. A second later your head flings back and I can feel the heat of your cum splash hot and thick directly against my quivering walls. “Fuck, baby. I love you so much.” Your forehead slumps against mine as you try to catch your breath. “And after tonight, no one will ever threaten to take you from me again.” As my head falls against your pecs, I feel your right arm tighten around me as your left hand gently strokes my hair. “You’re safe, I will always protect you," you growl. "Now. Do you have any more of those little pills?” *Follow me on Twitter @hstrikes3* **MORE+NEW original content to come**
  9. Hey guys! I've written quite a few stories over the years, but they generally focus on extreme strength. This one has MG elements too so I thought I'd post it here. It's also loosely based on an encounter with a nicely built old friend in Amsterdam earlier this year - the set-up and parts of the ending, but it'll be pretty clear where the fantasy elements kick in. Enjoy. Reunion, Part 1: Schiphol The fields and canals of the Dutch countryside spread out for miles and miles below me as I leaned to look out the plane window. The KLM flight from Barcelona had been uneventful, flying up through France on a clear evening with a perfect view of Paris at one point. I put it on my list of destinations to visit someday. But I was still completely satisfied with the week I’d just spent in Spain, traveling from the north of the country in Bilbao through the center in Madrid and ending up on the Mediterranean coast in Barcelona. It was a trip I’d been wanting to take for years, and one I was finally able to take when the international travel situation permitted. For the flight back to Canada, I’d had the option of an early morning departure from Spain with a quick change of planes in Amsterdam, or a flight the evening before with an overnight stay in the bustling Dutch city. There were plenty of hotels available near Schiphol, so accommodation wouldn’t be a problem. Not being a morning person (especially a ‘wake up at 3 am to catch a 6 am flight’ person), I opted for the latter choice. Am I ever glad I did. So, so glad. The sun was setting behind the plane as it made its final approach, giving the landscape a golden hue. The settlements grew larger the closer we got to Amsterdam. Cars trundled along an expressway, looking sluggish compared to the speed of the plane. A line of wind turbines marched along the pancake-flat land, bearing little resemblance to the stocky, iconic windmills of centuries past; these turbines stood hundreds of feet high with three massive blades rotating. I’d been to the Netherlands before, a few years ago, and found the mid-sized cities like Rotterdam and the Hague more to my liking than the tourist-plagued hustle and bustle of Amsterdam. But this was only for one night, really a bonus mini trip after a week on the Iberian Peninsula. Plus, as it turned out, I knew someone in Amsterdam, which hadn’t been the case the first time. Evan was an old friend of mine from Calgary who’d moved away about five years prior. First he’d moved to Toronto, then he’d found a job with a European company and ended up in the Netherlands about three years ago. We’d been reasonably close when living in the same city, but as often happens when someone moves away, we’d fallen out of touch over the ensuing years. He had social media, but rarely posted, and there hadn’t been any updates in over two years. But I still had his email address, so I figured I’d send him an email a few weeks before I left on my trip. Maybe we could meet up for a beer or even breakfast during my overnight layover. I was pleasantly surprised to hear back from him almost immediately. He sounded excited that I would be stopping into Amsterdam and invited me to stay over at his place rather than the hotel I’d booked. Fortunately, I hadn’t pre-paid for the room and was able to easily cancel it. For some reason, I got the impression that he had an extra room, though he hadn’t actually stated it. Now, I think a little background information about our friendship is in order. We met through a gay dating website, though we were only ever friends. We just kind of clicked that way. I won’t deny that there was some attraction on my part; he was a handsome man with a beautiful smile and a nicely sculpted physique. Not exactly massive or anything, but definitely bulge-y in a tight polo shirt. I will admit there were the occasional ‘benefits’ over the years, but nothing overtly sexual. Cuddling on the couch a few times while watching a movie at my place, things like that. He got involved in a couple of serious relationships over the few years that we were friends, nice guys, but nothing that ever worked out long-term. I found our friendship quite fulfilling; we had a lot in common, and always talked easily over dinner or coffee. It was kind of a blow to me when I found out he was leaving town. He was moving on to greater career opportunities, and I was happy for him, but it hit me harder than I’d expected when he left. I was really looking forward to seeing him again and catching up, figuring he must have some interesting stories after three years of living in Europe. The plane landed uneventfully. Now my least favorite part of the trip – navigating the zoo that is Schiphol Airport. It generally makes rush hour on the Los Angeles freeway system seem calm and organized. But fortunately, I didn’t have to go through customs, and the voyage from the gate to the baggage claim area only felt like I was walking the length of ten football fields instead of the usual twenty. A win in my book. My suitcase took a little while to show up, but so far everything was on time. I was supposed to meet Evan in the plaza area just after exiting security, where there was a variety of shops and restaurants as well as the train station. There was a thump, and I saw my suitcase starting to rotate around the conveyor belt right in front of me. Perfect. The plaza area was busy, but felt less chaotic than the terminal area. He’d mentioned meeting at Burger King; I couldn’t find a map and I didn’t hadn’t connected to the Wi-Fi yet, so I turned left, which naturally turned out to be the wrong direction. I continued around the plaza on a loop until I saw the familiar fast-food logo in the distance. Europe is a continent with an amazing selection of delicious cuisine, but the longest lineups you see are invariably at places like Burger King and KFC. I didn’t see Evan anywhere in the teeming seating area, so I circulated until a table opened up that had a view of the entrance to the shopping and dining concourse. A thought suddenly popped into my head – I really didn’t have any idea of what our plans might be. It was already 8 pm, and though I was more-or-less over my jet lag, I was still pretty tired from traveling for a week straight. Maybe we could just go to a pub somewhere, or hang out at his place and catch up. I figured I’d let him take the lead on that one since he was the local. Around me, hungry, harried travelers chowed down on burgers and fries before heading on to their evening flights or into the city. I took the opportunity to relax and center myself; I’ve always been a fan of being anonymous in a crowd, of feeling that energy while not having to be directly involved in it. Naturally, a busy airport is about the best opportunity around for people-watching. The travelers were an extremely diverse crowd, representing the citizens of cosmopolitan Amsterdam as well as arrivals from dozens of countries across the globe. That was interesting to observe…but let’s be honest, when it comes to people-watching, I tend to be on the lookout for muscle. Spain had been a little disappointing in that department; the occasional kinda-big guy in Madrid and Barcelona, but no one displaying muscle in a way that would really catch me eye. Shallow, I know, but what can I say. My fantasy of a huge bodybuilder sitting beside me on a plane hadn’t come true either on any of the three flights so far. Amsterdam seemed to be pretty much the same, unfortunately. A few reasonably in-shape guys walking around, but no one to write home about. I pulled out my phone and went through the steps to sign in for the airport Wi-Fi. I scrolled through the news for a few minutes, then when I looked up from my phone, my eyes immediately locked onto a huge figure in the distance. By far the biggest man I had seen on my travels – any of my travels. He had his back to me, looked to be checking his phone, but the width of that back was evident even from far away. The beast was standing still, and people had to go out of their way to get around him, like ships avoiding a huge protruding rock. Eventually, the crowd thinned out enough that I could get a clear look at him from the back. Monstrous legs that swelled out of a pair of tight shorts, only made tight by the size of his quads and thick booty. Lats that pushed his trunk-like arms out at an angle I’d need a protractor to measure. A broad neck that merged into a set of traps carved from marble. I noticed he didn’t have a suitcase with him, and wondered who the lucky person was that he was there to meet. Why didn’t I ever have a massive bodybuilder waiting to pick me up at the airport, perhaps holding a welcome sign with my name on it…ah well, a man could dream. I mentally went through the list of Dutch bodybuilders I followed on Instagram, wondering if it could be one of them. He definitely looked big enough to compete, if not blow away the competition. He didn’t look all that tall, no more than 6 feet, nowhere near the giant Oliver Richter’s territory. Another name, Wesley Vissers popped into my head, but he had a mop of curly hair and this guy had a close-cropped haircut. Ah well, someone I could search for later, I thought. Or maybe Evan might know who he was, since he’d always had a thing for muscle guys as well. Speaking of which, I thought, where was he? I hoped I hadn’t missed a message or anything. But my attention was diverted as the muscle guy turned and started walking towards the Burger King seating area. Yep, just as impressive from the front as the back. Thick barrel pecs that swelled under the polo and stretched it as tight as a drum. Sleeves that were pulled up over dynamite-packed arms, both of which had a thick vein running up and over the bicep. Forearms that swelled and tapered over heavyset hands. God, this guy was my fucking fantasy. Maybe I could get a surreptitious picture as he walked by. We were less than 100 feet apart, and striding faster. But before I could get my phone out, I glanced up at his face. And gasped. Our eyes met, and I saw that smile. That beautiful smile. Oh God, it couldn’t be…? But he called my name. It was. “Evan?” I said, standing. A goofy grin came to my face as well. All the new muscles aside (and THAT was going to be a topic of conversation later, I knew), I was just happy to see my old friend again. There were a few flecks of gray in the heavy stubble on his chin, but it was the same bright face I remembered from years ago. We embraced…well, he hugged me fully, and lifted me off the ground a bit, though I don’t think it was intentional. I did my best to get my arms around his lats, just barely getting onto his back. The muscle I felt under that tight polo was like the side of a mountain. When we ended the hug, I stepped back and looked him over again, trying to process all that muscle. He was around 190 last I saw him, and he looked to have put on over 100 pounds of sheer mass. The thought he could be approaching (or over) 300 pounds…a tiny shiver went down my spine. “Evan, you look…I just…I mean…” He tipped his head back and laughed. “Yeah I’ve been hitting the gym a bit more since I got here,” he said. He rippled his right pec a few times under the pale blue polo, subtle but definitely enough for me to notice. “You look good too man.” I know he was just being polite; I appreciated it. “It’s a little more than…what the…” I still couldn’t get a complete sentence out. “Plenty of time to talk about that later,” Evan said. “First I want to hear about your trip. No, scratch that. First I want to get a couple of Whoppers. I haven’t eaten in like two hours. You want anything?” I asked for a regular cheeseburger, as I’d had dinner on the plane. As he strode over to the line, I got another good look at him from the back. I swear he looked about three times as wide as anyone else in line, an absolute unit. I also saw the glances people gave as they walked by, often with eyes growing wide. A kid on the other side of the seating area pointed and said something I couldn’t hear, but his mother quickly shushed him and led him away. Evan would have stood out in the audience at a bodybuilding competition, but in a fast-food place among mere mortals, he looked like the windmills that completely dominated the unremarkable landscape outside. When he returned, he ate his two Whoppers in the time it took me to finish my cheeseburger. We did talk about my trip – although I was fascinated to find out about his transformation, I enjoyed recounting my travels of the past week. He filled me in about some highlights of the past few years, oddities about living in a foreign country, other places he’d visited in Europe. It was easy to slip back into the engaging conversations we used to have. Sure, he had a ton of new muscles, but underneath he was the same Evan I knew. In some ways, it felt like we had just seen each other the previous week, not years prior. The catching up continued for another twenty minutes. Finally, there was a break in the conversation, and Evan asked if I wanted to head out. He grabbed my fully packed suitcase and hoisted it like it was empty; it barely made his massive right arm ripple. I expected us to head to the train station, but we kept on walking to the parking garage. We continued chatting along the way, laughing and reminiscing about old times and mutual acquaintances. The parking garage was a lengthy walk away that took us out into the cool night air. I zipped up my jacket, but Evan seemed perfectly comfortable in his polo shirt and shorts. Fifteen minutes after leaving the plaza, we climbed a set of stairs and emerged next to his car. It actually looked fairly large by Dutch standards, but it would have been considered a mid-size in North America. He popped the trunk and lifted my suitcase in. “I really do need a bigger car, but they’re damn near impossible to park in the city here if you have one,” he said, sounding almost apologetic. He turned to face me, the overhead lighting in the garage spotlighting every muscle straining under his shirt. One corner of his mouth turned up in a sly smile. “So, I’m guessing you have two questions,” Evan said. “First of all, they’re 24 inches. Well, like 23 and ¾, but I think I’m good to round up a bit. I’ll be there soon enough. And yes, you can feel them.” My eyes widened and I let out a sharp breath. “Yeah. Pretty much bang on.” The smile broadened. “Well, you’ve been staring at them for like the past 45 minutes. Now I know why you were never any good at poker.” He raised his right arm in a slow, brutal, perfect flex. The cannonball muscle pushed the sleeve back into the depths between his upper arm and shoulder. The thick vein I’d seen before pulsed over the soaring peak. Up close, I could see a network of smaller veins climbing up over that bicep and down over his equally impressive rippling tricep. I reached out and slowly closed my hand over the peak. I swear I could feel fireworks going off around me. The size, the hardness, the density…it was just sublime. Like nothing I’d ever experienced. An odd sound somewhere between a gasp and moan escaped my lips. “Guess you approve,” Evan said before dropping the flex. “I gotta show you something else too.” He looked around the garage to make sure no one was nearby. Then he crouched down a little and slid his right hand under the corner of the rear bumper. I just had time to say “What are you…” before he grunted and lifted the car off the ground. The frame groaned and the left rear tire reluctantly raised upward. His arm was bulging like crazy now, facing a challenge much more intense than a 40-pound suitcase. Evan gritted his teeth and raised his arm slowly, the bicep I’d just felt contracting into a muscle supernova. To my shock, the right rear tire started raising off the concrete as well. His breathing was slow and steady, his concentration rock solid. The rear bumper was nearly level with his lower pecs. He held the car in place for a full ten seconds, until a loud cracking sound emerged from the bumper. That was his cue to slowly lower the car back down until it cautiously touched the concrete. Not even the slightest bounce. “I gotta be careful with that, I’ve cracked a few bumpers that way. I’m getting better though,” he said. Casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world he’d just done. “Evan. Holy fuck.” Well, I guess that qualified as a complete sentence. “If you’re impressed by that…well, you don’t have all that much time here, so we should get going. I guess I have a few more things to fill you in on. But not here.”
  10. Yachirobi

    Life Changes

    Some quick smut I banged out today. Give it a like on my Tumblr if you're so inclined. Inspired by a photo Michael Kidd, shot by Rey Rey's Photography. He is not the character, this is fiction, you're an adult so you know the drill. Please, don't sue me. I'm poor. *** Dad wouldn’t tell me what he was up to but he was bigger. The way he filled his shorts in was obscene. He said he was just working out harder. Right. It had only been a month since mom left him and he’d grown. He been growing. He kept growing. My father got visibly larger every day. We’d worked out together before. Lifting weights was our regular father/son bonding since I was twelve. Even when I came out, we didn’t miss a session. But almost imediately after mom left, he insisted on training alone in the basement. He would’t let me down there anymore. Said it wasn’t me, just that he needed space alone. I figured he was crying down there, needed a place where he didn’t have to be “strong” when he felt weak and helpless. Then I heard the grunting through the vent. At first I thought he had a dog down there. A weird ass dog to boot. Maybe one of those mutts from Ghostbusters. Mom was allergic to dogs but dad had grown up with them. He actually got choked up talking them. He always stopped to pet dogs who came across him when he was out. But I never heard those sounds when he wasn’t down there. He’d have told me if he had a dog. None of those dogs made the sounds I heard. They were borderline sexual. That’s why I had to go down there. I needed to know what he was doing, why he had to be alone instead of spending man-time with his only child. He left the door unlocked one day while he was out. I’d been coming over mre often to check on him. Dad had said some stuff that made me worry he might hurt himself. Break-ups will cause that, especially one after thirty years of marriage. But I was glad he was out. I thought he might have found a girlfriend. And it gave me a chance to snoop. But I wasn't ready for what I found. The muscle mags were one thing. Dad was working out hardcore. Okay. Not that I ever knew he had so many. Then I saw that some of those mags had nudes. I didn't even know they still published skin mags with the Internet going strong. So my dad was gay and didn’t even bother to tell his queer as fuck only son. Terrific. And the mags were scattered everywhere. Pages were lying loose on the floor. Some were stapled to the wood paneled walls. Then there were the rags. Torn up t-shirts. Ripped pants. Jockstraps with the jock torn open. All scattered everywhere. So my dad was turning into the Incredible Hulk in the basement? No wonder mom had left. One of the shirts--a nice polo shirt I’d gotten him for his birthday, I might add--was stuck to the wall like he’d thrown it there. I saw splatter marks from the impact. That splatter? It was cum. Cum was fucking everywhere. Some of it was even fresh, scattered all over the mags and the exercise equipment. Pools of it. The smell was overwhelming. And it made me hard as a rock. I’m not even a smells guy but it turned a switch on in my brain and I couldn’t turn it off. I tried. Something about that stench made me feel manlier, like I was getting bigger and stronger just from inhaling my father's crazy-ass super loads. I took deep snorts of the stench. It made my nose buzz. It didn't even smell like cum or sweat as much as it smelled like manhood. And manhood smelled terrific! It felt terrific! I put my finger into some of the cum that he'd shot on the lifting bench and thought "fuck yeah, dad." I had a vision of him in his more powerful body pushing those weights up and down while he was rock hard and... I snapped back, sickened. I was in my childhood basement, holding my crotch in my hand while I was putting a cum coated finger into my mouth while rock hard, thinking about my own father. I got the hell out and thanked my lucky stars that Dad hadn't come home to catch me. But I was still rocking a stronger hard-on of my life for two hours, even though I tried to think about anything other than sex. Then the call came. “Abel,” dad said, “Let's go for a walk.” His voice was cold. Growly in a way that was unfamiliar. I hesitated but said yes. If he wanted to yell at me, so be it. I had some yelling to do too. When I got to the park he walk looking alpha as fuck. That had become standard but the effect never diminished. On that day, he seemed twice as manly as the day before and I hated it. On any other man that would be instant boner fuel. Thick, vascular thighs. Pumped arms. Gray beard. But he was my dad. Even gay boys don’t get hard to their own dads. I never had before. Then I caught a whiff, just a little whiff, of that freak man-smell, It might have been my imagination. Didn’t mater. I felt my dick buzz all over again. And I felt shame. “I’m not mad, Abel. I wish you hadn’t gone down there but, well...” Dad kept his eyes on me and I was the one who looked away. “That’s fucked up, Dad. That’s really... I don’t wanna know.” Sometimes we tell lies thinking they’re the truth. “You have to know now. I can’t keep it secret much longer anyway.” “Secret? What?” Just because dad wasn’t yelling didn't mean I couldn't. “Is this the shit that drove mom away?” “No. But if she hadn't left, this wouldn't have happened. I'm glad it happened too." “God damnit. Just tell me what's going on so you can get it off--" I winced. Bad word choice "--your chest." And, with even better timing, I noticed Dad's chest flaring. He'd always had a good shape to it but, for the first time, I realized my dad had pecs. Big ones. "Are you gay, Dad? Did you let me come out to you and not tell me you were gay too? Because that’s really fucked up. That’s fucking cruel. That’s...” My voice was breaking. “It’s not quite like that. I mean...” I shouted “Then what the fuck is it?” “Shut up.” If he'd slapped me with the back of his hand, it wouldn't have been as effective. “Follow me.” And I did follow, red faced and sniffling. We followed a paved trail deep into the woods, then he went off on a dirt path. I thought it was for bikes but it was too narrow and unkempt. “It happens at home sometimes. I like that. Gives me a chance to explore it on my own. But it's better here.” I screwed my face up in disgust but, before I could complain, I caught that scent again. “It’s better with the others. It’s stronger. Fuller. I dunno. I need to be with the others.” “There’s a group of you? Aw, dad. You were always warning me about internet freaks and now--” “This ain’t on the internet, Abel. And you better not tell anyone. We can’t let outsiders know.” That was when I noticed Dad's voice. It was deeper. Strained. He huffed and puffed. He put his hands on a tree and stretched out. His back... it was wider. "That smell means it's coming, son. It's coming real strong." I heard footsteps. Leaves rustling. “I’m sorry about this. But you won’t be. It’ll bring us closer together, I promise.” He punded his fist against a tree. I heard something snap. Not a branch from the men walking towards us but from his body. There was another snap. Then Iooked down at his ass. How and when my father had gotten a bubble butt, specifically a perfect bubble butt, was beyond me. And all of the sudden, as he arched his back forward, popped that ass out, cried out, and the cloth split open. I saw my father's ass crack for the first time in my life. And I smelled that superhuman man-funk erupting from his skin, stronger than what he'd left in the basement. And as my dad grunted and groaned and swelled and stretched, I saw those others come out. They were not men. Men aren’t that big. Guys spend whole paychecks on drugs and gym hours to look half as powerful. Now I know it’s a waste. They wore tatters that were wrapped around their carved-stone arms and legs. One man tore the remains of a shirt from his chest. Schwarzenegger could only dream of having a chest that big with a waist that small. I didn’t say no. Didn’t say yes either. I might have flinched or pushed a hand away once. But I walked head first into someone's someone’s hard, hairy, inhuman chest and any resistance I had went at that touch. I sank to the ground, surrounded by a set of Tom of Finland super cocks that all had a variation of my father’s freak smell. Then I found the one that wasn’t a variant. “I have to do this, Abel" he said. He pressed my head against his crotch. "I tried to fight it but I don't want to anymore. I wan’t you to be one of--” The moment he said “us.” I clamped my mouth on his cock and he growled. His voice dropped another octave. “I should have done this sooner!” the others laughed. Then they cheered. They cheered because the saw the start of my body swelling up and stretching out. I moaned because I felt stars exploding inside myself. I roared because I felt like a man. More than a man. More than an animal. When people ask me what's going on, I tell them I'm working out harder. It's true. I haven't bought new clothes yet. I don't want to. I'll do so when I'm down to my last set. Then I'll buy a new wardrobe to destroy. I've moved back in with Dad. It's easier that way. More private. More satisfying. When the urge overwhelms one of us, we both go for the ride. The house is a mess now. We fuck too much. Break too much. The neighbors are complaining. They say there's a smell coming from the house. The women don't like it. But the men? They've been poking around. Trying to see what's going on. Needing to smell what's going on. I think they'll come around soon. They might do it without us. I'm already seeing the changes on their bodies. Less fat. Less bone. More muscle. More men. They're looking alpha as fuck these days, but Dad is the real alpha. I'm second in command. We're sitting back. Watching it happen. Waiting. It won't be long. We can wait. Barely.
  11. PARTE 1 Joel había dedicado todo el verano a entrenar con la ilusión de unirse al equipo de rugby. Para eso, él estableció una pequeña rutina diaria, saliendo a correr 5 km cada mañana y luego para terminar unas flexiones de brazos hasta que el límite de su cuerpo lo permita. Algunas veces hacía 15, otras llegaba a 20-23. Finalmente, llegó el gran día y Joel se presentó en el club. Él estaba ansioso y nervioso. Cuando entró al vestuario, se sintió intimidado por el tamaño de los demás chicos. -- "63 kilos..." -- dijo el entrenador cuando Joel se bajó de la báscula. Oficialmente, eso lo lo convertía en el jugador más pequeño del equipo, a pesar del esfuerzo de sus últimas semanas Joel se desanimó. Pero el entrenador lo miró a los ojos y le dijo -- "Admiro tu perseverancia, muchacho. Puedo ver que te esforzaste en el verano, pero me temo que no es suficiente. En este deporte se necesita ser grande y fuerte En ese momento, Matias, el capitán del equipo interrumpió la conversación, flexionando sus generosos biceps. Su fisico de 1,80 y 90 kilos de musculos, hacian que Joel se viera pequeño a su lado -- "¡Así es como se ve un verdadero jugador de rugby ja!" --. El entrenador volvió su mirada hacia Joel, y le ofreció una oportunidad -- "No puedo incluirte en el equipo, pero estoy seguro que si entrenas con nosotros, te harás fuerte, y quizás te ganes un lugar para la próxima temporada, que dices? te gustaría?" --. Joel aceptó, y desde esa misma semana comenzó a entrenar junto a todos los otros muchachos del equipo. Si ya estaba impresionado con el tamaño de los otros muchachos del equipo, lo estaría mas aún cuando vió la fuerza que tenían. Todos ellos eran capaces de levantar cargas de peso de 5, 6 e incluso 8 veces más pesadas que él. Sigue este treath, para ver como Joel crece
  12. Here is the first chapter of a new story I've started. You may remember Dixon from a past story called High School. This story focuses on Dixon as he comes to terms with the events of his time as a High School principal and his metamorphosis into a different version of himself. I hope you enjoy. Coming into His Own Chapter 1 Gary Dixon, or just Dixon as he preferred to be called, woke up at the crack of dawn as he did every morning. The springs of his mattress groaned as he stood up and heading down the hall to the kitchen. Armed with a fresh cup of coffee in one hand and a large protein shake in the other, he stepped onto the large covered porch of his cabin just as the sun was cresting over the lake. The last six months had been unusual, but things were starting to feel normal again. Dixon still had flashes of his former students, Jacob and Mark pushing their young bodies beyond the extremes of human developments. He often replayed the two behemoth’s showdown that day in the high school gym. Just the mere thought of their grotesquely massive, 300 plus pound bodies caused Dixon’s thick cock to swell in his shorts. He often yearned to return home to see just how massive the young freaks had become but he knew that was not possible. It was a miracle he was not in legal trouble for the part he played in their demonic growth contest and knew returning would be pushing his luck. Besides, life had retuned to a sense of calm Dixon didn’t think he would ever have again. Finishing his coffee and shake, Dixon turned and caught his refection in the glass window of the cabin he now called home. When he left town, he had beefed up to a respectable 255lbs. While he was dwarfed by Jacob and Mark, in normal circles, he was considered larger than average. The last six months have been beneficial to say the least. Dixon couldn’t resist bouncing his thick, hard pecs in the window’s reflection. At 275lbs his 5’10”, 36 year old body was truly a sight to behold. After leaving town, and subsequently his career, Dixon decided to use a comfortable inheritance he received when his parents passed away over a decade ago. He bought the remote cabin with cash and had spent the first four months renovating it. The bulk of his funds went into converting the dilapidated barn on the large property into a fully equipped gym that would rival most professional facilities. Dixon flipped on the lights and smiled as the huge space came to life. He eyed the stacks of weights and gleaming equipment as he focused his attention on the day’s gruelling work out. Within minutes, the sounds of birds in the surrounding woods was overpowered by the groans and grunts of Dixon’s brutal workout. If there was anyone in the remote woodland, they would have assumed someone was being tortured against their will. “22, 23, 24, UUUGGGGHHHH, 25.” Dixon screamed before letting the 220lb barbell crash to the ground. He stumbled away from the bar and raised his trembling arms into a formidable double bicep pose. His fully-pumped, 21” biceps exploded with raw power. Thick veins criss-crossed their smooth surface as drops of sweat puddled at his feet. Dixon wasted no time before lumbering to the nearby dumbbell rack, grabbing the 80lb weights and started cranking out piston-fast reps. Pain tore though his already pumped biceps as he surpassed 30 reps before dropping the weights. Breathing heavily, Dixon again, struck a double-bicep pose. “FUCK YEAH! Getting bigger,” he growled “but not enough.” Dixon dropped the pose and reached for the 100lb dumbbells. As he hoisted the weights off the rack, his grip faltered and one dumbbell tipped forward and hit the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror. The glass shattered instantly and started to rain down on Dixon’s sweaty body. “SHIT” Dixon screamed and jumped away from the falling glass. Quickly inspecting his exposed flash, Dixon was relieved to see that he had not sustained any injury. His attention immediately returned to the destroyed mirror and related mess. “FUCK, this is going to take forever to clean up!” Dixon cursed both for the mess and the fact that his intense workout had been cut short. He went to the back of the gym and opened the door into the neighbouring garage. He pulled the shop vac off the shelf and returned to the gym. He plugged in the machine and cursed again when he discovered it was no longer working. “FUCK THIS DAY!” Dixon yelled and tossed the vacuum across the room where it shattered against the wooden wall. Dixon took a few deep breathes and headed towards the cabin to eat, shower and figure out where he was going to find a glass store that could replace the broken mirror. “It’s one large mirror measuring 6ft wide and 8ft high.” Dixon said into the phone as he stood in his bedroom, naked and still wet for his shower. He absent-mindedly flexed and relaxed his left quad as he spoke. Barely noticing the 28” slab of beef rippling in the morning sun streaming in the window. “You can’t see if you have anything that big in stock? Can’t you check your computer system?” Dixon was trying hard not to sound frustrated. “When does the store open? 10 a.m.? Ok, thank you.” Dixon said and hung up. “Guess I’m heading into town” He said and opened his closet door. After a few failed attempts at finding an outfit that fit his ever-growing body, Dixon settled on a very tight tank top and tight jeans. On the rare occasion Dixon ventured into town, preferring home deliveries whenever possible, he normally covered up his large body to curb garnering attention. Today however, he was feeling particularly attractive and extra huge, and as he had just discovered, was in need of some bigger clothes. “Looks like it’ll be a whole day in town, mirror, vacuum and clothes shopping.” He said as he hit a quick most muscular pose in the mirror, marvelling at his thick traps rising towards his ears as his neck swelled with power. --- Dixon pulled his Jeep into the parking lot of Baxter Windows and Doors. He glanced at his watch and sighed that it was only 9:37 a.m. He was considering going to grab another coffee when he saw a car pull into the lot. Moments later, the driver got out and approached the main doors with a large key chain in his hand. Dixon got out of his truck and walked up behind the employee. He cleared his throat causing the person to jump two feet in the air, dropping the keys as he did. “FUCK!” Screamed the guy as he spun around to face Dixon. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” Dixon said. Dixon watched the guy’s eyes widen and scan Dixon’s upper body. He watched him stop at his round shoulders, thick pecs and exposed, ripped arms. “N-n-o-o problem, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be here this early.” He said without taking his eyes off Dixon’s imposing size. “Again, I’m really sorry I startled you.” Dixon said as he bent down and picked up the keys. As he stood back up he locked eyes with the employee. He was younger than Dixon, maybe in his mid-twenties. He had shaggy brown hair and short stubble on his face. He was wearing a heavy flannel jacket and loose fitting gyms which hide his body. What struct Dixon were is bright, hazel eyes. Dixon handed the keys to the guy and couldn’t help but notice his hand were clammy. “It’s cool. Let me unlock the door and you can come right in. It will just take a minute to turn on the lights.” Once inside, the guy disappeared to the back of the store and as the lights came on, Dixon started to roam around the aisles. A few minutes later, the guy emerged from the back and approached Dixon. He had removed his coat and much to Dixon’s surprise, he now displayed what was hidden underneath. He was wearing a plain black v-neck t-shirt that was pulled tight across his wide upper body. While not nearly as big as Dixon, the guy clearly knew his way around the gym and sported round biceps and a set of thick pecs and wide lats that were visible from the front. “So, how can I help you. Name’s Peter by the way.” “Dixon. I need to replace a mirror, a big mirror.” “We have some mirrors over on aisle three with the other home furnishing items.” Peter said and turned in that direction. “It’s for my gym, it 6ft wide by 8ft high.” Dixon said. Peter stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh shit! That’s a big mirror.” “Yeah, it’s a big gym.” “You mean Hank’s Warehouse in town?” Peter asked. “No, it’s my gym at home.” Peter smiled and scanned Dixon’s body again, “Ah, that explains it then.” “Explains what?” Dixon said. “You look like a bodybuilder and I haven’t see you at Hank’s before, since there aren’t any other hardcore gyms nearby, you must have a pretty great home gym to build that body.” Dixon smiled and felt his chest swell involuntary. “Thanks, yeah, it’s a pretty great set-up. It’s been working for me so far I guess.” “It definitely is man, you are jacked!” Peter replied. “Thanks, not quite jacked but getting there. Long way to go.” Dixon responded. “Really? Shit, I’m stoked I’m 234lb finally, looks like you have 25lbs on me.” “Try 40” “What!?” Peter said with wide eyes. Dixon couldn’t help but chuckle “275lbs yesterday.” “Wow! That’s awesome!” “Thanks, getting there.” Dixon replied. Peter’s stare lingered on Dixon’s body for a few more moments before he turned and refocused on the reason Dixon was here. “Ok, for a mirror that large, we’ll have to order it. It may take a few weeks to arrive. It will have to be delivered. Follow me up front and I get all the details from you.” Dixon followed Peter to the front counter, admiring Peter’s wide back and prominent traps. He had a sudden flash of his former student Mark hoist astronomically heavy weights as he forced his body to grow past 300lbs of grotesquely shredded muscle. Dixon’s mouth went dry and he desperately tried to push the thoughts out of his head. When they arrived at the counter, Dixon barely registered that Peter was had start speaking again. “Dixon? You ok?” “Y-y-yeah, sorry.” He said, regaining his composure and they worked out the details and Peter placed the order. “It was really great meeting you Dixon. Too bad you don’t lift at Hank’s, you’d make a great trainer.” Peter said as they shook hands. “Thanks. I might have to stop by some day and check it out.” “I think I’d rather check out your setup. It’s clearly got everything you need to get huge.” Peter said catching one last glance at Dixon’s tight, vein-covered arm. “Thanks again Peter. I can’t wait to have the mirror replaced. Have a good day.” Dixon said as he walked through the front door. As he approached his truck, Dixon could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He leaned against the vehicle for a moment trying to calm down. He thought about how ridiculous his reaction to Peter was. He knew nothing like what had happened at the high school would ever happen again but it didn’t stop him from reliving that insane time over in his head. Once he felt like he was back to normal, Dixon got in the Jeep and headed in the direction of the hardware store where he was going to buy a new shop vac.
  13. Chapter 1 "The advertisement" Joe read the advertisement. He read it again. Yes, it did state what was written. "An extremely wealthy man and his partner seek intimate male company for summer holidays on their private island. All costs covered. Applicants must be young, athletic and be willing to fulfill ALL needs of the couple. Applications together with a set of body pictures to be submitted to the following email address…." He felt it was his lucky day. He fulfilled the criteria ideally. He was 22, 185 cm (6"1) and 105 kg (230 lbs) of muscle. He was also broke and had no summer plans. Joe believed that this was a dream job - he will lie down on the beach during the day and at night he will join the two probably older men and fuck them. He will be well fed and he will work out, cause they will have a gym for sure. A dream holiday. He smiled as he realized the usefulness of the photo session he did last month. The photographer worshiped him both with the lense and with his hands and tongue. That was the payment for the photo set, cause Joe had no funds to pay him. The very little extra funds he had went to purchase of gear. Speaking of gear - maybe the rich guy will provide it too? He wrote the email describing himself and adding all the good pictures he had. One picture showed him curling the EZ bar loaded with 60 kg (130 lbs). His fully pumped 47 cm (19 inch) biceps were stretched to the max (cold they were 5 cm (2") smaller). Blood was pulsating under the skin. Veins criss-crossing creating a beautiful map of an unknown terrain. The viewer was invited to lick them while Joe struggled with the weight. Just behind the EZ bar, you could see Joe's meaty pecs. Not as pumped as the arms (it was arm day, not pec day), but proportionally built. He always wanted bigger pecs. The ones he had, a dream for most average guys his age, were certainly not big enough for him. And just above the pecs you could see Joe's handsome young face. His sparkling blue eyes, his dark blond, slightly curly hair, his long eyelashes… He could work as a model with his great body and charming face. He just had no connections to the modeling business. But maybe some day… Another picture showed Joe seductively lying on a sofa with just red briefs on. It showed Joe's legs, which were his pride. He never skipped leg days. Big meaty well-defined quads, quite good hamstrings (less visible on the photo), and those calves … he was gifted with great calf genetics and he used it to the max. He was extremely proud of his 44 cm (18") diamond calves. And at the end of the photo were his feet. These have been admired and worshiped by several of his lovers. Long and elegant, he always thought that there was something royal in them. A third picture showed his back. He had a really good V-shape with a thick upper back. He loved pulldown and rowing exercises. And below his back was his lovely meaty ass grown by countless squats. He loved to top, but he was vers and he sometimes allowed lucky guys to fuck him. And they were always in awe of his back door. He was thinking of telling his ex about the advertisement, but then he had a second thought - Ben was such a jerk, that he didn't deserve to have a perk holiday. Once the email was ready and the pics attached, he clicked the "Send" button. And waited.
  14. EDIT: I forgot to post the link to the Archived stories. It's not completely complete, but a good start that may give me time to catch up and rewrite everything for one continuous post. Much thanks to ZFerrari for salvaging my old work. So I can't say this was worth the wait or anything, as it's been like, what 20 years lol But I'm wanting to rewrite the entire series and repost it here, as a lot of it got all messed up in the HTML or something and all the "quotations" are now ?quotations? lol But I dunno. If there's still a lot of interest and this sparks some fervor or whatever, it may inspire me to write a lot more. I have a lot of ideas, but don't know how much time in my life I have free to write as much as I'd like to. Anyways, I reworked some behind the scenes stuff lol like "recasted" a few of the characters, and even traded Dirk's for Max and casted a new Dirk--I know, I know! But I didn't realize that I had casted Dirk as a Brown haired guy and was writing he had blond hair the entire time, etc... Sloppy sloppy me lol Anyways, not really something to worry about right now anyways, if at all. But hope it still has continuity and all. I've been away from it for so long, and have just been trying to catch back up with my own creations. Like I said, I hope to do a sorta rewrite and edit later anyways, if I ever have the opportunity. And I don't remember where I left off in terms of parts.... so think of this as a sort of rough draft to a potentially better one...I hope I've included some ENER stats (not the graph--you'll get it as you read below), and they're more just something I like to do for myself, so they might change. But you can see the recast and shuffle. But a bit of a "data book" thing, if you will. I dunno. It's just something I like doing. Anyways, here goes nothin' SEAN What Luther said was the truth. The key wasn’t a physical key to unlock anything physical, but was still a key to unlock something hidden away. Because Hanazins had the ability to manipulate matter, and manipulate thoughts, they could transform and combine the two to form something separate, like the key Sean had retrieved for Dirk. His father had instructed him to revert the key back to its raw matter and raw knowledge. For the first time in a while, Sean was having a lot of trouble. Pulsing veins crossed his forehead, his psychic energy pulling each bit of knowledge encoded in the key. And each time he would succeed, a portion of the key would turn to dust. Sean remembered when he was able to store the entirety of the key within his natural energy, and later reconstruct it perfectly. But taking it apart with a much more meticulous hand took a lot more skill and power than Sean had expected. He had to visualize it all like a house with a bunch of rooms full of things he’d never seen, as it was like removing furniture you never owned from a room you’ve never seen, and passing through doors you didn’t know existed, in a home you’ve never lived. And you’d better time your exit from the front door just right to meet the movers with their tiny truck, or be forced to hold the weight of all the furniture until they arrive. Or drop it all, Sean thought, releasing his hold on the bit of the key he was deconstructing. He’d have to start all over with that segment and have to find the room again among the thousand he had identified, and hope it was in the same location. They tended to move around the house without any regular intervals of time. Sean groaned, slamming a veiny fist into the solid earth beneath him and sending a blast of fragmented rocks a hundred feet into the air. Before, when he had deconstructed the entire key to store within himself, it was much easier. About 100,000 times easier! It was like moving the entire house into a new lot or something. Everything in the house moved with it, as long as it stayed locked. And the house and room analogy helped Sean visualize the goal he needed to achieve. The physical key was designed to unlock the door to the house where each constantly changing location of every room held knowledge that together would be the figurative key to accomplishing whatever it was his father, Dirk, had wanted to accomplish. Or it was the key to the destruction the Hanazin world was so dedicated in trying to prevent. But it’s what his father had meant when he had said he was afraid Sean might miss something. It would have been next to impossible to piece the key back together had Sean prematurely unlocked the door, even with his enhanced Hanazin brain. Now Sean wasn’t feeling all too cocky. Sean’s body responded to the influx of energy he had to pull in to effectively expel the mass of psychic energy he was utilizing in order to pull the knowledge off the key. Thick veins pulsed as if they were arteries, appearing then disappearing underneath his skin, before appearing again to feed his engorging muscles, climbing upward or running downward in networks like tree branches or roots growing on an accelerated time skip. His abs shuddered before collapsing towards his spine, the fat underneath his skin almost nonexistent. Sean’s body was so incredibly lean that every fiber of every muscle, and every striation that built each part of the muscle could be seen moving and building itself bit by bit. Sean was a masterpiece of a man, with no exception given to his fat, dripping cock that bobbed with each steady beat of his heart. His sack heaved underneath his slick pole, always as if breathing, but instead filling his 15-inch shaft with his warm fluid. A network of veins climbed up his shaft, and Sean knew he was ready to blow. The earth rattled around him, and Sean couldn’t hold it in anymore. His massive tool erupted out before him, spraying over the cliff face and raining down into the valley. The key jangled to the ground as, Sean let it go and grabbed his exploding man meat, his hand moving across his slimy shaft at the speed of a jackhammer. All around him the earth violently shook, the birds fleeing from the surrounding trees. But they were too slow to escape Sean’s blast of energy that moved out from his body like a tidal wave, yellow and tinged with red, joy and ecstasy colored with anger. The muscles of his body convulsed as they adjusted to the rapid influx of power, and Sean bellowed deep, veins rapidly birthing and climbing and running over every part of him. His height grew to nine feet, his lats spreading out to an enormous five, his traps climbed his now thickening neck just as its vascular network pulsed and reached out to join the thick vascular cords of his shoulders and chest. His pecs danced in unison as lean fiber upon lean, ripped fiber built upon the last. Sean cock was sputtering and spitting short bursts of cum—like it would back when he was human. Each spurt of his hot fluid felt like an electrical current of his best orgasm, sending tingles of absolute ecstasy from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, where it felt as if it were water flooding over his brain and pouring down through the rest of his now massive body. Sean pulled his entire cock downward by its fat tip, and it sprang back to hit his abs and pecs with a loud thwack! “FUUUUUUUCK!” Sean screamed, and he blasted over the valley once more, the earth shaking so violently, that rubble started falling from the cliff face, before it too cracked under the stress of Sean’s power. Sean threw his arms out to his side and he felt himself levitating upward by the force of his own expelling power. His voice dropped down low as he bellowed. The ecstasy he was feeling was like no other he had felt before. At that moment, he strangely recalled how he and Jason would sit in their dorm room and try their best to come up with a good analogy that would’ve helped their pre-Hanazin, human selves imagine how good a Hanazin climax could be. He remembered Jason had jokingly, but accurately, compared it to when human you really REALLY had to pee, but you held it and held it and held it until you finally found a toilet and let it out. That feeling of relief. That feeling of cool and calm release. It was like that, but 1,000 times better. But what Sean was experiencing at that very moment was 1,000,000 times better than his best Hanazin climax to date. The ecstasy pulsed through him over and over, and starting over and starting over, endlessly looping with no lull in the intensity. “The power,” he said. “The fucking POWER!” He roared once again, leaning back, his face towards the sky, eyes closed, laughing maniacally, before letting his immense power flow out of him and across the canyon around him. Again, Sean’s muscles seemed to be violently convulsing, though it caused him no pain, only pleasure. He wondered if it’d be better to move into his Intermediate power level, if the pleasure of power would increase. And what if he just jumped right into Hyper power level? *** DIRK Dirk grinned happily as he stared over at his son. He was a whole 50 miles away, but Dirk could see Sean with the clarity as if Sean were right there next to him. Sean was forcing himself to remain in Rookie power level, something Dirk himself enjoyed. In that state, you could feel the power, truly feel it move through every pulsing vessel of your body, feeding the engorging tissue, building new massive muscle, fiber by fucking fiber. Dirk was impressed at how lean his boy had managed to become, and even at the far distance, Dirk could see the striated fibers of Sean’s muscles moving about underneath his skin, now covered in the innumerable perusing branches of his vascularity. Veins crawled over even Sean’s forehead and down by one of his ears, and on the other side crawled down his cheek and throat to join with the third cords of his widening neck. Dirk felt his son’s power moving into him, the power link the Stervis bloodline had passed onto he and his son effectively operating to bond their collective powers as one. And because of his gift from his Archer bloodline, Dirk knew his son had the potential to bring them both unfathomable power. The thought made him hard, and Dirk’s slick fuck pole went full mast, trembling with his heartbeat, its tip sputtering pre-cum in short spurts that filled Dirk with incredible pleasure. Pulsating veins flooded over every one of Dirk’s now shuddering and expanding muscles. Just as his quads reshaped into perfect symmetry, another vascular network birthed upward towards his crotch, climbing in a second’s time up through his inner thigh to join the network feeding his heaving sack. And just as the connection was made, Dirk felt himself washed over by the ecstasy of his power. “Fuck YEEEEEEEAAAAAAH!” He roared, his ripped pecs broadening with his shoulders, his 25 inch guns instantly expanding to 30 inches, more and more veins pumping and pulsating and feeding his growing muscles. The earth itself seemed to shift, and the sky turned dark, as the tip of Dirk’s cock exploded with a torrent of his hot man juice. “FUUUUUUUUCK!” He screamed. Lightning flashed over him as he allowed his power to lift him into the sky, and he continued to blast his pearl-white cum over what was left of the surrounding area, creating a thunderstorm of slick, viscous rain. His power had already destroyed much of the mountain plateau, the land and the cliff faces, trees and rivers—all of it just gone, leaving only barren earth. He spotted the key that Sean had dropped, and in a millisecond’s time he had retrieved it and stood underneath his still floating and blasting son. Dirk grinned once more, the edges of his lips slowly creeping more and more upward, until he too was joining in on his son’s maniacal laughing. In the later years of the Academy, students are taught how to measure in numbers the power ratings of their opponents, and because Hanazins had such keen sensory abilities, they could measure the power levels within themselves, and within other Hanazins to an exact numerical point of measure. Records were kept on every student at the Academy, and further through the rest of their lives, updated by passing Constables, Scouts, and Surveyors. Hanazin energy was measured in ENER, or emitting native energy radius, and displayed on an ENER-Graph. And the power flooding over him from Sean’s energy was more than he could’ve expected, approaching a 90,000 ENER reading in each of his 9 measured attributes. 90,000 ENER in just his Rookie power level. He knew his son would soon surpass even him, once gaining the knowledge of the key—a key only one of Archer blood could…well, unlock. Dirk chuckled a little, tossing the key upward and then catching it again. He stared down at its silver exterior, noticing only a fraction of the physical surface gone from Sean’s work. “Still so much to go”, Dirk thought. “So much to go, but so much power already gained.” Dirk could feel it pouring into him through their connection, and watched the thick cords of his forearms pulse and climb over the expanding muscle. Through the Archer power, Dirk knew he would be strong enough to free his son Rex. And after, their cumulative power would be invincible.
  15. Genetonic

    The Masseuse

    I washed my hands as my next client undressed and lied down on the table. Opening my tub of cream marked with an X, this one has paid extra for the special offer. An extra special muscle rub down. Little did he know what was in store for him. Walking into the air conditioned room, he was lying facedown on the massage table. His gym clothes were neatly folded on the white chaise. He was already very muscular, not the biggest I’ve seen, but definitely someone who’s spent a decade in the gym. He was fairly tall, but his height didn’t seem to deter from his apparent thickness. Probably around 6-foot judging from how far his legs came down. Very proportional. Laying a towel over his rear, I started first with a light opener massage to get a feel for things. His back was wide and meaty. Rubbing down into his muscle, he let out a moan of relief as I started to work my magic. He was already big and meaty, his two slabs of lat muscles loosening under my grip. As I pushed up his spine, I told him to exhale a big strong breath. His big arms swung down as he relaxed his body. Now that he was loosened up and relaxed, his muscles were ready for the next stage. Pulling on my gloves, I started working in the cream, mixing it into his thick skin. Even through the gloves I could feel the heat from his body rising. With each press I could feel his lats press back harder. The rock-like muscles grew under my grip, filling out more space around his back, stretching taller and wider. His traps were being pushed up by the growing lats. I moved upwards, applying more cream to his traps and shoulders. He let out a rumbling moan of approval as his back expanded and thickened. His traps began burning, rising and expanding until they matched his wing like lats. Even lying down his traps now pushed up to his ears. Next, his deltoids started to work with the flow of my hands, bulging more and more. With each deep rub they rounded out bigger and rounder. He winced a little. Holding his hand, I quickly gave a yank to the right. His shoulder joint popped and his arm swung out wider than before. He sighed and swung his arm a little. Popping his other shoulder into place, he was definitely wider than the table now. Standing in front of him, I began rubbing a small application of cream on his neck. Feeling his neck muscles push against my fingers, his throat slowly rose and thickened against his traps. His neck now just a bit thicker than his head, he cleared his throat. His Adam’s Apple popped down and swelled, his cough dropping in pitch as his vocal cords resonated in the deeper tone. It dropped again as it swelled bigger, his cough sounding more and more like a thundering growl. I turned to his lower back. Applying my magic touch, I helped adjust his back, cracking it as his vertebrae lengthened and grew. He shrugged his shoulders, adjusting his growing upper body. His shoulders broadened some more and his back continued to widen past the sides of the table. His whole upper torso looked like it was inflating out bigger and wider. If he wasn’t getting taller he wouldn’t be able to turn his arms or neck he’d be so inflated with muscle. The growth continued down his back to his hips. Once he had finished stretching and was adjusted, I moved on to the buns. Following permission, I removed the cloth covering his glutes. He already had a nice round bubble butt. Rubbing in the cream and massaging the big cushions, he groaned as his cheeks flexed and rose up bigger and rounder. Filling out wider and meatier, his ass grew out like a shelf that came out nearly as high as his back. He was going to have a fun time waddling around with these two globes bouncing behind him. These were some powerful glutes too; soft and firm, each bigger than a pillow. He even shaved his hole, always nice to see that. Placing the unfolded towel over them like a tarp, I moved down to his legs with a smile. His thighs were going to be a bit weird. I applied a small amount to the back of his thighs, watching as they thickened and grew out more. The real punch would be when I worked my magic on front of his legs. His calves however, I worked them until they were each diamond-hard and melon-sized. Working the cream into his feet, I cracked his toes and worked the bridge, watching his feet stretch and grow to match the rest of his size. His legs were already overhanging the table by a lot. Pulling his meaty legs by the ankle, I heard them crack into position. He had to have gained another couple of inches at least. More room to fill out with muscle. I had him turn over, making sure his eyes remained closed the entire time. Placing a warm washcloth over his eyes, he grinned as I gave his ear a little squeeze, “we’re only halfway there.” Going back down to his feet, I rubbed some more cream into the legs before coming up to his quads. His thighs slowly widened and rose in all directions. I watched as the gap closed in tighter and tighter until his quads touched. I then grinned as they had to push each other apart because they were still growing. Readjusting his legs, he stretched out by another couple inches. His legs were overhanging the table at his knees, his big sasquatch sized feet firmly on the ground. I like to save whatever a client has underneath the cloth for last. Probably much to their chagrin when I pass from their quads to their stomachs. He was already pretty firm. Had a lite 4 pack even while lying down relaxed. Working into him, his midsection starting to grow tighter, denser. His obliques pressed out more and more prominently. His abs came from being slightly visible to four hardening abs, then to a faint third row. Once his 6-pack grew into big bricks, a fourth, often elusive, row of abs grew into view. The ridges deepened and tightened as his brick-like abdominals grew into cobblestones. His v line was becoming more prominent and the cloth was starting to move. His thick snake was rigid against the cloth and was practically begging for attention. His pecs looked comically small at this point. Surrounded by rolling hills of muscle and a pair of lats that extended past his chest was a common sight at this point. Starting with his right pec, I worked his meaty chest bigger and bigger. His pec blew up and out eagerly. Stretching and expanding, I could hear his muscle growing. Giving his nipple a playful squeeze, it blew out bigger and meatier. The thick grabbable nub was forced further and further down as his pec grew even bigger, matching the rest of his size. Compared to his left pec, it was like a king sized pillow next to a dinner plate. Working his other pec, his chest ballooned out to proportion, a crevice forming as the two muscles rose up higher and higher. His pecs were forcing his arms out to a wide degree already. Giving his other nipple a rub, it filled out to match his other grabable handle. His pecs were starting to push against his chin. The only place where two massive mountain ranges of muscle weren’t colliding was at his arms. Giving his pecs another lather, they swelled and bulged even bigger, burying his chin in the meaty pillows. There was so much surface area to cover, I had to work quickly to round out the size on all sides. Grabbing the nipple, it filled out my hand more and more until it was thicker than a doorknob. His groaning was muffled by his huge chest, the deep vibrations making my hands vibrate on his enormous chest. Even with his legs falling off the table where they were before, his shoulders were now hanging off the top of the table. His chest had grown so huge and wide it expanded past the table’s edges. His arm hanging from his massive boulder of a shoulder looked shrunken. Applying what some could say was an excessive amount of cream, his bicep and tricep started heating and expanding faster than the other muscles. A red hot horseshoe exploded through like I had branded him with a poker, expanding and stretching until I needed both hands to grip his tricep. His bicep kept growing, pressing and rising higher against his massive pec. Thick veins crawled across the growing muscle as it swelled bigger and thicker with each second. Some of the cream must’ve rubbed off on his pec cause it grew even thicker and heavier. As his arm expanded outward and downward I focused on blowing up his forearm and hand to size. Filling out like a football, his forearm was growing more monstrous in my hands. His fingers cracked and expanded with his palm, coarser and stronger. When I let go of his monstrous hand it fell and brushed against the floor. His other arm cracked and grew easily, rising and pushing against his growing pec until his chest was another inch wider. His gorilla hand squeezed back after I finished. He grunted through his thicker Adam’s apple, “imma need something to fill these hands with.” Grinning with his big cocky head cushioned by those traps and pecs, I first took a step back to admire my handiwork. Standing at his feet, it was quite a view to take in. His quads were enormous and forcing his legs off the sides of the table. Each leg was so heavily muscled that only half of each thigh was still on the table, they were too thick. His poor dick was rock hard but the bulge looked so out of place tiny. His rising belt of abdominals were running up like cobblestones. His wall of pecs rose above them like a cliff. His chest rose above his head by nearly a foot, rising even higher when he took a deep breath. His shoulders were hanging off the top of table, he had become so broad that his arms didn’t even touch the table. The table was actually custom made to be the width of a regular doorway. He’d have to turn sideways just to fit through the average doorway now. His arms were spread eagle, fingers brushing the floor and still his biceps were pressed against his pecs. He had outgrown himself and the table in every which way and direction. Pulling the cloth off his crotch, his dick swung out, rock hard and a thick string of pre hanging to his monstrous quad. He was already decently big down there. His cock was probably 7.5 inches already and was nearly thick as a can of red bull. Jerking him off, I could hear his muffled groaning grow louder. “You want me to make this bigger too?” He grunted in a thunderous but quiet bass, “make it huge.” Curt, clear, and to the point. He didn’t even have to try to make his voice sound serious. It was a command. Jerking him off slowly, I squeezed his grape sized nuts. He shifted uncomfortably. “Why don’t we start with these lil guys.” Rubbing some cream into his nutsack, I could feel his small nuts start to churn. In a couple seconds, they must’ve filled to their capacity cause they started swelling. Soon they swelled and filled to the size of plums. He was groaning louder now. “Don’t blow your load, they only keep growing as they fill up so hold back for as long as you want them to grow.” “Got it.” I could hear him starting to wince as he said that, his nuts were already the size of tennis balls and growing fast. The pressure of the biggest load he could ever blow times 10 and still growing. His nutsack stretched out more and more as his bull nuts kept growing and swelling with his load. Rubbing more cream into his nuts, I could tell this big guy wasn’t gonna blow his load any time soon. Having to hold one nut at at time, they were already the size of grapefruits and seemed to be swelling even faster. His cock was throbbing with anticipation as his nuts grew even bigger. They were red hot and filling out his lap as they swelled bigger than cantaloupes. I could hear his cum sloshing inside them now. “Bigger,” he grunted. Applying another handful of cream, his nuts sloshed audibly in my hands, swelling bigger and bigger. His bull nuts were bigger than basketballs and were still swelling. I could hear his groans almost turn to growling. The amount of testosterone filling his system, I wouldn’t be surprised if he hulked out right now. His muscles were tensing and flexing as his nuts swelled to new proportions. His cock was raging against the orbs, throbbing against the growing valley formed by the two melon-sized nuts. “GROW MY COCK TOO PUNY MAN!!” His cock responded to the cream much faster than I expected. With each heartbeat it swelled an inch longer and fatter, growing in quick spurts as it quickly passed the 12 inch mark. Applying more cream to the growing monster cock, his cock rose higher and higher. His cockhead swelling thicker each second, it was soon bigger than my fist. Even with a horsecock rising from his crotch, it was still outmatched by his growing monster nuts. His nutsack had to accommodate two great big pumpkin-sized nuts that held the biggest load I’d ever get to see. Applying more cream to his arm-thick cock, it grew even faster. Stretching and swelling longer and thicker than my arm, he passed the 2 foot mark in a matter of seconds. His cockhead flared out angrily, pumping bigger and thicker, thicker than my head now. His muscles were tensing and flexing so hard he looked like he had a pump from being at the gym all day. His pecs were rising higher and his quads looked even more monstrous. Raising his arms, his biceps were clashing more with his pecs as his hands clasped his growing cock. His dinner-plate sized hand found my tub of cream and grabbed a massive handful of it. He rubbed it all over his cock like it was lube. Instantly it grew out thicker and fatter and shot higher and higher. He applied even more to his monstrous nuts, finding the huge overfilled orbs still rising behind his telephone pole-thick cock. I had to take a step back. He was growing like crazy. Running to the wall with the hidden panel, I waited with baited breath. His hands grew thicker and huger from the cream. Rubbing a mixture of cream and precum all over his chest, his pecs blew out even bigger and meatier. Pulling down his swelling cock to his chest, his cockhead already reached his face. Residual cream rubbed all over his upper body as he jacked off his huge huggable cock. Precum spurting all over his chest and face, I heard his thunderous growling deepen into a thundering roar. The table groaned and bent as he stood up. His enormous nuts swung down and hit his shins with an thunderously thick gurgle emanating from them. He roared in pain like a caveman with blue balls, his tree trunk cock swinging down and slapping against his swelling balls. His nuts rumbled and swelled to the size of two beach balls resting on the floor. His cock swung up and down, growing longer and fatter with each swing. His cockhead had to be bigger than a yoga ball now. I didn’t even notice his enormous chest and shoulders growing thicker and meatier. Whether it was the residual cream or simply the hormones flooding his system from his enormous nuts, his enormous upper body piled on more and more mass. His quads flexed and strained under his growing weight. They kept flexing, bigger and bigger, growing thicker as he shifted his stance. His head grew closer to the 15-foot ceiling as his enormous legs grew even bigger. His nuts rumbled loudly and swelled bigger and bigger, growing across the floor as their enormous loads of cum sloshed like an ocean. His cock stretched and stretched, growing longer and fatter before it crashed against the wall. Cracking the tile, his enormous cock kept swelling. Unable to crack through, he was pushed back by his growing cock. The lumbering musclebound giant loss his balance as he blindly stepped backwards. Crashing onto his back, he roared as his enormous body shook the building. His cock grew thicker and thicker, ramming into the ceiling and leaving streaks of precum. It kept swelling and growing across the tiled ceiling, surpassing 20 feet. His nuts rumbled as they quickly ran out of room, swelling to fill the rest of the room. His muscles flexing and swelling even quicker now. I pressed the switch on the wall. A small team of orderlies rushed into the room while a panel on the far wall opened up, revealing a giant tube. The orderlies rushed to move the giant’s cock toward the enormous hole. Two of them had to jump up on top of his enormous truck sized testicles to harness it down. Sliding his growing cock into place, the orderlies' scrubs were already drenched with precum. Looking down, I didn’t even realize my feet were submerged in the growing pond of precum filling the room. I knew we should’ve installed drains after last time. The orderlies were working to stimulate the muscle bull’s cock as it continued to grow and fill the tube. Stepping out of the room, I felt my soaked shoes grow tight as my feet started swelling. Kicking them off, I looked down at my sizable feet. Looking through the hidden mirror, the orderlies were struggling to get the giant to cum. He kept growing bigger and bigger. His cock was nearly as wide as the giant tube and it was still stretching bigger and bigger. His nuts were nearly each as big as the giant’s body. Two of the orderlies were jumping on the huge nuts, thunderous roars shaking the room as the giant groaned and grew even more. “YOU’RE NOT GONNA GET ME TO CUM YET PUNY MAN!!!! I’M GOING TO KEEP GROWING BIGGER AND BIGGER AND YOU CAN’T STOP ME!!!!!!” That was the last straw. I gave the order and another orderly injected a syringe into the giant’s left nut. His muscles were too thick to get a needle through but a nut shot should work just as well. The giant roared as his nuts were forced to pull up, the enormous pressure inside them finally able to be released from his redwood-sized cock. His roar shook the room and the orderlies rushed out. Removing their soaked scrubs, their own muscles growing and swelling from the monster’s precum. Luckily it wasn’t as potent as the real stuff. The cream rushing down the tube should fill the tanks enough to last us a year. One of the orderlies approached me panting, his scrubs ripped and torn. He was several inches taller and probably a hundred-fifty pounds heavier than when he went in there. “Boss he’s too big to go in the warehouse with the others.” “Not a problem, he’s not going anywhere anyways,” his muscles continued to swell as if just to prove my point. “Hopefully he won’t get too much bigger than the room and then we’ll just milk him whenever he starts to swell.” The orderly whistled as he looked back at the muscle giant. “He’s the biggest one by far boss.” “Sure is, for now at least.” Looking down at his crotch, the orderly’s huge bulge was snaking down his leg as he continued watching the muscle giant shoot hundreds upon hundreds of gallon of muscle-growing seed.
  16. Chapter 1 Cal was searching frantically in the supply room. “Let’s go, boys! On the field in five!” Shit shit shit.” His first practice and he didn’t have a uniform. He counted himself lucky to be on the football team as a freshman, but being late to his first practice wouldn’t bode well for his future. His parents had helped him buy his own set of pads, pants, and cleats, but he was supposed to get a jersey from the school. If it wasn’t for his ass of a math teacher he would’ve been early to get a jersey, but now he was shit out of luck. Pushing aside old bags of deflated balls and pads that still reeked of B.O., his hopes dashed by a jersey only to find a huge tear in it. He could feel his heartbeat faster as he counted down the seconds. “Fuckin finally!” Pulling a jersey out of the corner, he inspected it quickly. Still sporting the school colors but in an almost retro design. No holes, rips, and it didn’t smell that bad, it was, however, nearly 4 sizes too large. Standing at a proud 6’0 and 183 lbs, Cal was a size large, an xl accounting for his pads. Checking the tag, it was a size 5xl. Putting it on, cursing his luck. Checking in the mirror, the collar and sleeves were disproportionately huge, the waist billowing halfway down his thighs. Still, it was manageable and would probably last until he could get a fresh jersey. Running out to the field, his oversized jersey billowing around him. The other players were already on the field doing warmups, Coach Stevens off to the side talking to the quarterback and a couple of other seniors. Joining everyone else for what seemed like a couple of laps around the field, Cal took the opportunity to check out his fellow teammates. It was hard to tell under everyone’s gear, but it looked like Cal was the biggest freshman there. He was still clearly outmatched by some of the more seasoned athletes. Still, he was proud of how far he’d come. He spent his junior high years playing soccer and only recently started lifting weights in his free time. By the time Summer started, the repeated soccer practices and games started to lose their excitement. It had started out fun, the competition, the training, the wins. But after a few weeks, it didn’t seem as exhilarating. Soon lured by the intensity of football, Cal found himself admiring the lifestyle. The games, the intensive training, the social life. Starting in June, he began working out, increasing his calorie intake, and even started taking supplements. He remembered fondly the thrill of first seeing the fruits of his labor. After two weeks of his regiment, he felt his shirtsleeves starting to bunch up over his biceps. Soon he could feel his pecs start to press out against the fabric. He practiced flexing in the mirror, seeing his muscle tone increase week by week. By the time Fall came around, he proudly marked his progress over the summer in his head: 1 inch taller and 23 lbs of bulk added to his powerful frame. Cal could feel his pulse beginning to rise as he quickened his pace. The excitement of actually being on the field, Cal tried to take it all in. The smell of sweat and fresh grass filling his lungs, his cleats digging into the field as he jogged ahead. Completing their laps, the players gathered round for a quick introduction and an overview of their games for the season. Remorsefully, Cal accepted that he wouldn’t be able to play most of the season’s games. Going out on the field in groups, Cal paired himself up with two other freshman newbies for some beginner tackles. Trusting his size and abilities, Cal prepped himself to rush the faux quarterback and the poor guy protecting him. The ball was thrown and Cal launched himself at the receiver, taking him down in a tumble. Cal could feel his muscles vibrating with energy as he jumped back up, ready to go again. That whole afternoon, it seemed like nothing could tire him. They kept going until sunset. By then everyone was ready to collapse, but Cal felt like he could keep going for hours. Getting home and tossing off his sweaty clothes, he got into the shower. Feeling the heat from his pumped muscles escape into the frigid water, Cal relaxed his energized body. As the water crept up in temperature, he paid close attention to his groin. Proud of what he had for his age, Cal soaped up his schlong and balls. Swinging to its full 6.5 inches, he gently stroked it. Getting out of the shower, his hard on bouncing up and down, Cal started to towel off his muscular torso. Looking down, he could feel something off about his point of view. His normally small but hard pecs looked bigger, protruding further out. Checking himself in the mirror, he could tell his frame was much thicker than it was that morning. Jumping on the scale, it read 195. “195? What the fuck?!” Out of nowhere, a deep voice behind him chuckled, “Awesome right?”
  17. MMF

    Short Stories - big muscles

    Hey! I've written some short muscles stories. I'm not the type to dive right into big stories with lots of characters. Just some short, muscle growth related stories. The bigger, the better. Hope you like! More to follow! The binding contract Mr. Brown looked at his watch and locked the screen of his computer. It was time for the next injection of subject MG-23, the best candidate yet to respond to the drug. Unfortunately, the young man's attitude changed as the project progressed, and each of the sessions became more complicated - and not just because of his mass. But the human geneticist had no choice, as investors were breathing down his neck and wanted to see results. He opened the safe via fingerprint and voice recognition to get out the new NASA miracle drug. There were still 4 syringes in the small box after Doc took out one of the sealed vials. He placed them in an acrylic box and headed to treatment room 2. As he approached, he could already hear the grumbling of their test subject. "No! Untie me! You fuckers! I don't want this anymore!" The voice was bass-heavy and very deep which was a side effect of the altered larynx situation. As he opened the door, Prof. Dr. Brown sighed. Test subject MG-23 - or Mason, as he used to be called - immediately began a hate tirade. "You fucking assholes! That's not what we talked about! Get off me!" The young man was in pure rage and could only be brought to the lab sedated. Fortunately, the behemoth was restrained. The treatment table resembled a cross, with the individual elements that supported the limbs movable. This allowed during the morph phase that the body could move semi-free. The professor put down the small acrylic box and flipped a switch on a console - to the constant complaints of MG-23. The integrated scales indicated that the subject was within the predicted parameters at 320 lbs and 8% body fat. A look at the muscle monster was always fascinating even for the geneticist. The 22 years only showed the youthful facial features. The alert eyes, the fine lips, and although the chin was masculinely prominent and broad, he looked like a male model. But then any comparison with a model ceased. The man's bull neck was now already wider than the actual head and the traps would surely grow beyond the ears after the next injection. The man's range of motion in the head area was already limited, and Mr. Brown estimated that complete immobilization could not be averted. Even lying down, the larger-than-average pectoral muscles were almost permanently touching the man's chin and the nipples were barely visible due to the outward bulging belly. A point that still had to be negated. The so-called roidgut was higher than the pectoral muscles when lying down and although the shadows of 8 abdominal muscles could be seen on it, this would cause problems when used later. The arms, fixed at 90°, were each dominated by gigantic biceps, the size of a honeydew melon, and showed strong vascularity. The man's hands kept clenching into fists to get out of the titanium alloy restraints. Unfortunately, a new necessity, as even with the security personnel in place, no one could put a stop to the man. But he couldn't really leave. His legs were already making for a waddling walk as the quadriceps muscles were above the norm. After all, they had to stabilize the 300 pounds and were challenged every day. The calves were so immensely trained that the man's feet only fit into the leg cuffs with great difficulty. After this injection, they certainly had to be extended. "You stupid idiots!" the professor was brought back by the subject's statement, and a sigh made it clear how weary he was of the subject. "Mr. Davids. I hate to repeat myself, but you signed a contract. You knew all the risks and what this project was for: To prevent the degeneration of astronauts' muscles during year-long missions in space. From the very beginning you were aware of this and also that it was a clinical test. That deliberately an overdose is applied to detect possible risks.“ The sound of bending metal combined with the young man's rage made the entire staff take a startled step backward. He roared in a low voice, "And isn't that enough? I'm a muscle freak. A monster! I can't tie my shoes anymore because of my roidgut. My 7XL shirt is a crop top. I can't turn my head all the way to the side anymore and I always waddle to the side when someone talks to me. I can't get through doorways with my broad shoulders anymore and it's getting harder and harder to get sideways because of my muscle tits. Another dose? Then soon I won't be able to do anything! So untie me! I want to get out of here! Fucking shit! I can't even jerk off anymore!" with which he shook the gurney again. It was still holding. A look of the doctor at the man and his penis confirmed this problem. The penis did not grow with him and the testicles also remained at their previous size. No one needed male astronauts in a confined space with too much testosterone in their bloodstream. The problem with MG-23 was that because of the extra mass, however, the penis almost completely disappeared between his legs. Despite this, the doctor could see that the small erection (under normal circumstances, he would probably be considered normally endowed) was already trembling and Pre was protruding from the tip. "MG-23. your words are one thing. But I think on a deep level, you want nothing more than to become an immobile muscle freak. That's what the psychological evaluation told us, and that's why you were selected.“ With that, the doctor walked up to the defenseless man and opened the small flap of the access that had already been placed. "Just accept it. You are in no position contractually to negotiate either way." With that, he pushed the contents of the syringe into the man's bloodstream. MG-23 began twitching almost immediately and the access was immediately connected to a nutrient pump. 23,000 kcal were pumped into the man within the next hour to provide optimal support for muscle growth. The pulsation became stronger and the veins all over the body stood out. The integrated scale jumped from 320 to 321. After a short time 341. Then 352. The chin slowly disappeared in the gap of the two gigantic pectoral muscles. The joints of the gurney continued to move outward as pound after pound was packed onto the body. The doctor turned to Ms. Peabody and spoke, "When he's done, sedate with etomidate and back to the storage cell. Please play the new data directly to my pad. I need to talk to the investors. Thank you." With that, he left the room, leaving behind the muscle blop that kept growing. "A very good evening, gentlemen. We did another injection on subject MG-23 today with promising results. His initial weight was 143.4 lbs and 22% body fat and now we are at 612.85 lbs and 5% body fat. We are currently simulating the results in zero gravity at a period of 5 years. The test person on Earth has thus also reached immobility. He is not able to walk without help and due to the muscle growth he is dependent on artificial nutrition, because his arms cannot be bent enough. His aggression has subsided since...", a sigh followed, "... since we allowed him to have a penis pump. The psychologists advised us to do so, and it is indeed helpful." "So the subject is more cooperative?" "Yes. That's the assessment of the psychology team." "All right. We'd like to see another dose with this subject." "Mr. Board Chair, I would advise against that from a medical standpoint. We have already simulated this and estimate that with another dose he will weigh a little over 1000 lbs." "Mr. Brown. I have not phrased this as a suggestion or a request. If you want more grant money, we would like another injection." "Yes, sir.“
  18. (AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, this is what happens when you're too damn clever! Twenty-years ago, I wrote the first two chapters of CYCLE ONE -- each imply a malevolent force behind the creation/ distribution of the sports drink, but who was it? I never answered that question within the text of CYCLE ONE, but while I was writing the original KING REX series a few years later, I playfully connected the two universes, revealing that the secret ingredient in Cycle One was the mystical cum of the super-villain, King Rex. (Here I am twenty-years later trying to crawl out of the mess created by that decision! So, as you will see in the coming story, characters from both "franchises" populate these pages. You don't necessarily need to read both of those stories to understand this one, but... it's kind of fun, in a completest kind of way... (Let me know if you think I succeeded or not. Hope you enjoy!) ******************************************************************************************************* CYCLE ONE: FOUR BACKSTORIES ONE: There’s a mom&pop coffee shop in Ellicott City, MD, that the writer favors, not just for the view and the free wi-fi, but because it’s intimate and quiet -- he can sort his thoughts before he writes without worry of distraction. He leaves his little apartment, walks the steep downhill toward the Patapsco River, and spends his mornings writing at the coffee shop, enjoying the sunrise over the rushing water. He’s a big man, thick and solid -- not at all the build one would expect a writer to have -- but small compared to the bodybuilder that suddenly enters the shop, a very muscular man dressed in tight joggers and matching jacket over a t-shirt that fits him like spandex. The guy moves like he’s not used to the dimensions of his own muscular body. Awkward. The writer has seen this kind of thing before -- although, it’s been long enough that he’s surprised to see it again. It’s possible that the guy has never adjusted to the change, the growth, but that seems unlikely, not after nearly twenty years. This is too fresh. The bodybuilder spots the writer and a small, hopeful expression appears on his face. He crosses to the writer’s corner booth in a few heavy steps. “Sam Bennett?” he asks. The writer sighs and looks up, locking eyes with the bodybuilder. “Can I help you?” he asks. “I sure hope so,” the bodybuilder says. “My name is Ben Fortunato and I’m in desperate need of help.” He indicates the seat on the opposite side of the booth. “May I?” he asks. Sam nods and the big, Italian bodybuilder squeezes into the booth. “Mr. Fortunato…” “Ben.” “Ben... “ The writer draws a breath for strength. “What brings you by?” (He asks in a tone that implies he knows the answer already.) Ben pulls something out of his jacket pocket and sets it on the table between them. A crisp new bottle of CYCLE ONE, a magic potion disguised as a sports drink. There is a growing horror on Sam Bennett’s face as he stares at the bottle. “What the fuck?” he asks. “Are you kidding? Is that real?” He pushes it back toward Ben. “Jesus Christ, do you know what people would DO to you to get that? Put it away before someone sees it!” He looks around, paranoid -- nothing’s amiss, nobody else is even in the room, but it doesn’t stop his panic. “Put it the fuck away!” Ben is confused, but does as he’s told. “I just wanted to prove I was legit.” But Sam didn’t lose his intensity. “You realize people will fucking KILL you for that? You know that, right? There are some crazy motherfuckers out there, Ben -- addicts, all of them! And they will do anything for their drug of choice. Where the fuck did you find that? No, wait, don’t tell me -- I don’t want to know.” “I have a lot more than this one bottle.” Sam Bennett, the writer, takes another breath -- he likes to believe he’d be stronger than this, but it’s right there in the man’s pocket… Sam could just TAKE it… Why is he even entertaining the thought? It’s been nearly twenty years… Does he really still want it that badly…? “Ben,” he asks instead, “do you understand what addiction is?” Ben’s expression is unreadable. “Yeah, I’m getting a pretty good idea…” “Imagine you’re taking a drug that makes lifting better than sex, and sex better than anything. Imagine that you spend a good few years of your life getting other guys hooked on it, turning them into addicts, too. Imagine that you do that for pay -- good pay -- and INCREDIBLE bonuses! And the world is just one powerful playground ripe for the taking. “And then one day, the drug disappears -- it goes out of production, the magic formula is lost, whatever -- new stock isn’t being produced. What’s left is what’s left. “And people go fucking crazy! First, it’s the guys with money -- they try to stockpile it -- the would-be dealers and petty hoarders. There’s fights over it, attacks, takeovers -- guns are always blazing and bodies -- big, muscular bodies -- begin piling up. Gangs form -- safety in numbers, right? -- some become cults, worshipping the drug and the drug’s creator. They isolate, hiding with their horde, fighting to be the last guy with the last drop. It’s the Supply War -- it’s a dark time led by power-hungry addicts. “But there’s another type, too -- another kind of guy, fewer in number, of course. Guys who understand and accept that it’s addiction -- they form support groups specializing in this drug. And there they learn how to navigate their lives without it, without this incredible drug that makes lifting better than sex and sex better than anything. Without it, they don’t get pumps at the gym anymore -- so lifting loses its… magic. No pumps, no good workouts, so bodies… don’t remain in the same condition. They still keep most of the size, but they get softer, saggier. “And of course, sex loses its vibrancy. I mean, what’s the use? You don’t feel attractive, so you stop attracting and pretty soon self-gratification is your only option -- and you don’t feel much like pleasing yourself, either.” He sighs, looking far away. “I know you didn’t come all this way to hear that, Ben,” the writer says, re-establishing eye-contact, “but you should know there are no happy endings when it comes to CYCLE ONE.” Ben speaks quietly. “I’m really sorry,” he says sincerely. “It wasn’t my intent to trigger you. I just wanted to have a conversation with someone who understands and can help me.” The writer does something mildly out of character and lays his hand on Ben’s arm. “Ben, I can connect you with several support groups…” Ben almost laughs. “It’s not that,” he says. “Honestly, I don’t care if I never drink another drop of this shit again! Isn’t that funny? As a kid, I dreamed of having a body like this -- getting a body like this by drinking a magic potion, in fact -- super-hero shit -- and now my life is one big fucking nightmare. No, the problem isn’t with me -- it’s my brother, Glenn. I mean, you wanna talk about addicts…? He’s been on a two-week binge…” Sam Bennett cocks his head curiously. “Two weeks…? How much CYCLE ONE do you have?” They make eye contact and Ben speaks quietly. “About twelve-hundred cases,” he says, waiting for a reaction like he’s revealed a poker hand. But Sam Bennett is silent, immovable -- stunned. “What the fuck..?” he finally whispers. “Do you have any idea how much danger you’re in?” Ben shakes his head -- he’s being misunderstood. “It’s not me, so much, it’s my brother. I need to know how to stop him from drinking it -- like, separating him from it, you know? I just… he’s not listening…” “No, I mean your life is in danger! There are people who will kill you for the bottle you have hidden in your pocket, much less a case!” He forces himself to a whisper again. “And you have a THOUSAND cases!” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You have clearly stumbled across someone’s stash and it’s only a matter of time before they come looking for it -- or for you. This is like mafia-shit, Ben -- I’m totally serious! And just by talking to me, you’re risking my life, too!” There’s a moment when Ben considers continuing this conversation, but then realizes there’s nothing to gain in it. He sighs and stands. “I’m really sorry to have bothered you,” he says, offering his hand. “Thank you for talking to me.” They shake and Sam partially rises. “I’m sorry, too,” he says. “I don’t mean to be so… well, it threw me to see the stuff again… I hope you understand. But I still hope you take my words to heart.” “I will,” Ben says. “There is someone I can connect you with,” Sam says. “He can probably offer a solution for your brother, but, um… I wouldn’t tell him about the stash. I wouldn’t trust him.” Ben nods. “Thank you.” And just as Ben is about to leave the coffee shop into the warm, morning sunshine of Ellicott City, Sam calls him back. “You know, Ben,” he says, swallowing his guilt, “on second thought, I will take that bottle.” Knowingly, Ben nods, smiling slightly in support. The writer doesn’t make eye contact with him, looking shamefully at the floor, broken by his confession, his own addiction. Ben places the bottle on the table and leaves -- he doesn’t see how long it takes for Sam Bennett to touch it. Imagine, lecturing Ben Fortunato on addiction -- or warning an Italian about the mafia! Jesus God, ridiculous! Still, Sam Bennett is right about one thing: there are no happy endings with CYCLE ONE. *********************************************************************************** TWO: “Welcome, brother,” the nearly naked bodybuilder says, wrapping Ben in a hug in the doorway of the church. “I’m glad you’re here.” For Ben, who’s never considered himself gay, this connection is a little too intimate, but there’s a strange masculine pleasure brewing, too. (He can’t help but remember what he and his brother had done when he first…) Fucking CYCLE ONE… “Thank you for meeting me,” Ben says, trying gently to pull away -- the bodybuilder doesn’t just let him. Instead, the moment becomes awkward -- especially when Ben can feel the nearly naked bodybuilder start to get hard in his tiny little thong, pressing against the inside of Ben’s hip. Worse, Ben can feel his own dick start to respond. “The pleasure’s all mine,” the bodybuilder says. “You smell fresh.” Ben breaks the hug and steps back. “Excuse me?” “It’s still in your system, the Cycle One,” the bodybuilder says. “You’ve had it so recently, I can smell it. I’d consider it an honor if you let me have your cum.” Ben is shocked -- speechless. The bodybuilder smiles, adjusting his hooded cape back across his shoulders, slitted open in the front to reveal his pouch. “It’s a sacrament, not sex,” he says. “You ARE new! Come inside and let’s talk -- welcome to the Brotherhood of Rex, the last remaining sect.” He leads Ben into the large, airy cathedral. “I’m Father John J,” the bodybuilder says warmly. “I’ve been the leader of this sect since our Lord plunged into the Multiverse.” They enter the sanctuary, Ben notes the lack of pews and such, just soft matting on lounge chairs set up to face the Altar, a towel on the back of each seat -- the place smells immaculately clean and fresh. He sees that there are superheroes on the stained glass, not religious figures, but he doesn’t have much time to process that as they come upon the altar. Ben swears it’s merely a California King-Size Bed with a black spandex/neoprene fitted sheet, but in this atmosphere, it feels more important. At the head of the bed -- of the altar -- stands a marble statue of a hugely muscled, hyper-masculine god -- an ancient greek statue given a 21st century physique. He’s a handsome man, with strong features and a build that would seem impossible if Ben hadn’t seen what he’s so recently seen. Ridiculously wide shoulders sloping to the tiniest of waists then exploding out again in a sweep of thigh. But that’s if you could NOT get distracted by the statue’s overladen balls and fantasy cock, erect and gently bending up. It’s so lifelike, it’s as if Father John J had poured white paint over a live model who’s eight feet tall and just standing there frozen -- it’s disconcerting. Father John J genuflects before the statue and speaks, looking only at the statue’s face. “This is our Lord and Creator,” he says reverently. “The Living God now lost in the Multiverse, King Rex. I am honored to be among the first he transformed -- I even aided him in the acquisition of Superion, His Majesty’s consort and husband. Pardon my prideful bragging, but there’s a reason I am where I am, and I sincerely doubt you’ve read my resume.” Ben legit smiles -- strange as all this is, he still maintains his humor -- it helps diffuse the anxiety. “No, I haven’t. The truth is I was sent here by Sam Bennett.” “Sam Bennett?” asks Father John J. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a few years. How’s… um… how’s Sam?” “He seems well,” Ben says, shrugging. “I mean, he was a little surprised to see me and warned me extensively about continuing this journey -- he made it all sound very mafia.” Father John J nods understandingly. “His perspective has always featured a little paranoia -- it’s one of the things that makes his fiction so good. Come, let’s go to my office where we can talk a little more comfortably.” HIs office is surprisingly simple for a religious leader, fairly modern and standard but for another… altar in the back -- this looks more queen-sized than the altar in the sanctuary, same sheeting, though. Father John J directs him to the sitting area by the window and Ben takes one of two comfortable chairs. Father John J removes his cape, draping it across the altar and, dressed only in his golden thong and slippers, takes the other chair. Ben is still awed by the Father’s body, the impossible made flesh. (Nearly as big as his brother…) “I’m sorry,” the Father says. “I’ve been rude. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, water… Cycle One?” Father John J smiles in a teasing way. Ben snorts and unconsciously crosses his arms. “No, thank you,” he says, forcing a smile. “I appreciate you meeting me on such short notice -- time is… important.” Father John J nods. “Tell me what brings you here, Ben.” Ben is thoughtful for a moment, as if he’s debating whether to confess at all, much less to what extent. “You’re safe here,” Father John J says. “You’re Catholic, right? Let’s consider this confessional.” He leans back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and inadvertently flexing his abs -- not many priests do that. “Thank you,” Ben says, still not at ease, but he sighs audibly and starts his monologue. “My brother and I… purchased a storage lot, three connected units. It was a blind buy, so we had no idea what we were getting, just someone’s abandoned junk, we assumed. It turned out to be a stash of Cycle One. And someone had clearly been living there, guarding it -- hell, one whole unit was a gym for this poor guy, and the next was the living quarters. “So we find this stash of Cycle One -- there’s something… familiar about it in the back of my mind, but I can’t remember what, and my brother drinks one like they haven’t been sitting there twenty years! I mean, like, who the fuck knows what’s really in the bottles and have the preseratives turned to poison or has there been some kind of freaky fermentive process? I mean, he’s fuckin’ CRAZY!” Father John J is thoughtful, curious. He gently asks, “How many bottles were there?” Fortunately, Ben is not so far gone that he doesn’t recognize the ploys of priests -- he WAS an altar boy, after all. He’s deceptive. “Let’s just say, quite a few,” he says, which doesn’t satisfy the Father, but it will have to do. “And he starts exercising, you know, playing around on the gym equipment, feeling all energetic and silly. I immediately blame the Cycle One -- so does he. And he starts slugging them down like it’s a frat party and he’s arrived late. “Because of some… bungling on my part, I ended up getting locked outside with my brother trapped inside and I had to run home to get the tools necessary to free him! It was an incredibly stressful few hours, but I did take the time to do some internet research on Cycle One -- that was how I connected it with King Rex. “I was fifteen, sixteen at the time that all went down, when all the superheroes suddenly became hypermasculine homosexuals -- I had no idea it was connected to Cycle One!” The Father smiles. “The cum of our Lord and Creator, the Living God lost in the Multiverse.” Ben is quiet again, lost in his own thoughts. The Father prods him. “Is your brother still trapped?” “Hmm?” Ben says, coming back to the moment. “No, not anymore. Not by accident.” Father John J tilts his head like an interested dog. “So, I went back. I got tools and I went back to free him. I’d only been gone, like, five, five-and-a-half hours -- it was crazy. I had no idea what Cycle One could do! I mean, I’m trying to free him and from inside he suddenly… rips the sliding door from its track and destroys it and… he’s HUGE! I mean, bigger than you and you’re fucking HUGE!” The Father can’t help but run a hand over his massive torso, and neither of them miss the twitch of his dick. “And he’s dressed the same way as you, in barely nothing, and he’s roaring and flexing and his cock is hard and um… I trip back over a piece of cinderblock and whap my head against the wall and pass out.” He smiles. “Glamorous.” The Father is wise enough to know that he shouldn’t interrupt, but he does offer a comforting smile. “When I wake up, I don’t know how much time has passed, but I discover my brother has chained me to one of the pallets…” “‘ONE of’...?” “Yeah,” Ben says, unthinking, lost in his own story. “And in order to get to the keys, I’d have to be strong enough to drag it across the room.” He swallows. “Only one way to do that.” There is another awkward silence as Ben gathers the strength to continue. “And as if that weren’t enough, he literally sealed me in, cemented the wall with old cinderblocks -- real Edgar Allen Poe shit, you know? He’s crazy, right? I mean… I had to… drink or die. Worse, he’s FILMING the fucking moment, too! So I get to have my humiliation digitally preserved forever. I was so fucking pissed…” The Father reaches over and puts his hand on Ben’s knee. They make eye-contact briefly. “You don’t have to tell me…” “I do,” Ben says. “I need you to know why I need your help.” He places his hand on top of the Father’s -- Father John J adjusts so they can hold hands. Ben is near tears. “You know what the stuff is like,” Ben says quietly. “The way it makes you feel -- the power and the masculine explosion of strength and desire and will. At first, it feels like it’s churning there in your balls, forcing the creation of testosterone, linking sexuality with the spirit, the cock and the muscle. God, I’ve hardly talked about it, because I’m trying so hard not to want it again -- because it’s fucking incredible, that feeling! That like… righteous anger that fills you with the belief… that you’ve gained power -- that you’re somebody!” Even Ben can’t help his cock’s reaction, that twitch of desire -- or memory. “And you feel like you can do anything, like even drag a heavily laden pallet across a cement floor. And if you fail, you just slug back another bottle of the magic potion until it amplifies everything all over again -- but especially the emotion, the masculine connection. It’s like coke, or meth, like that -- this… false sense of power. “Pushing the pallet was easier than pulling it -- it was like hitting sleds at high school football practice -- and the pallet scraped its way slowly across the floor. Each inch it moved was a triumph for me -- I swear, I’d celebrate by downing another bottle of Cycle One, like a fucking addict lost!” “Sounds like a lot of Cycle One,” the Father said, unable to hide his growing erection. “It usually takes only ten-to-twelve to complete the transformation.” Ben scoffs. “I had way more than that,” he says. “Maybe it’s old.” Father John J smiles gently. “Maybe,” he says. “Go on.” “Well, I had to… uh… get through the wall,” Ben says, trying to hide his own hard-on. “My brother had cinderblocked me in, remember.” Father John J shakes his head in disbelief. “Amazing…” “Turns out he had it wrong -- moving the pallet was WAY harder than destroying the wall. The wall was just… a couple of punches and some torn stone. The cement hadn’t really set -- there hadn’t been enough time -- so it wasn’t that difficult to get through. Though, I admit, I did get a couple of scratches and a shit-ton of semi-wet cement in my hair. But right then I was flying so high on the Cycle One, I wasn’t feeling ANYTHING real. “And I break through this wall and I’m feeling mighty and manly and there sits my brother on the cot, jerking off. He’s huge, I mean, bigger than when I’d seen him when he’d torn the door off its track, just… impossibly huge. “And his cock…” Ben almost doesn’t continue, looking down, remembering, then he speaks on. “I never wanted a cock before. I never… desired…” He licks his lips. “And it wasn’t that I wanted his cock so much as I wanted what was inside him -- his essence. His power.” “‘Well, look at you,’ my brother said, playing with himself. ‘You got BIG!’” “And instead of being weirded out by that, I realized he was right -- I HAD gotten big! I hadn’t really paid that much attention. My loose t-shirt was now too tight because of the muscle I’d never had before -- I ripped it off with glee, flexing my big pecs, my insane arms! I was rock hard celebrating my rock hardness! “So, the whole gay incest thing was unexpected -- at least it was for me, maybe Glenn had had some more time wrap his head around it, but I sure hadn’t considered the sexual response. For me, it was all about the Me Big, Me Strong thing -- it wasn’t until I realized that my cock was part of the equation that I got Me Horny, too! “And it just felt so weirdly natural, jerking off with my muscular brother while we flexed for each other. He had me wear this electric blue thong he’d found in the dresser -- I’d never worn anything like it, so scanty and sexy -- but I looked AMAZING in it! My fucking body -- in the mirror, hypnotized by my own reflection, so turned on by myself. “We worked out and pumped up and flexed and he kept pounding back the Cycle One, bottle after bottle. “Pretty soon flexing and jerking off weren’t enough anymore. Men fuck. And um… when my own brother tried to fuck me… that was the end for me. I… I couldn’t.” A tear rolls down Ben’s cheek. Father John J hugs him, drawing him in close. Ben tries not to weep, but loses the battle, hugging Father John J back -- he’s ashamed of his erection. Father John J seems to be okay with it, pressing himself even closer against the hardness. “Everything’s okay,” Father John J whispers. “I will help you with your brother, but first things first.” Using his right hand, he casually strokes Ben’s erection. “Let’s make an offering to God.” ******************************************************************************* THREE: In the Beginning, Rex the Almighty was born on this Earthly plane, a mutant to two normal mortals. His Divine Power manifested as He ascended to manhood -- transforming mortals into His worshipful slaves by granting them muscle mass and a spark of His Hyper-Masculine Energy. Finding himself ready to accept His destiny, our Lord Rex began His Holy Crusade, the elevation of the Super-Hero. Until this time, no one had submitted the Mighty Superion, the greatest of all the mortal heroes. His power and will were legendary, until humbled by our Lord. Rex not only enslaved Superion, He took the hero as His Royal Consort. And unlike most marriages of powerful families, these newlyweds truly and deeply loved one another. This marriage was blessed by the gods themselves. Rex continued His Divine Campaign and recruited the Justice Club itself to His cause -- at one crucial point, He absorbed the mystic lightning used to transform Timmy Thompson into the Planet’s Most-Powerful Protector, Captain Thunder, and Rex was elevated even further, truly becoming KING Rex, the most powerful man on the planet! His Majesty discovered that His ejaculate had been mystically enhanced, as was fitting for a living god -- with little more than a drop, He could transform a mortal man into a hypermuscular slave without using His God-gifted powers. Diluting it, packaging it, and marketing it as the sports drink, “Cycle One” was a stroke of His genius -- it began the subtle transformation of the masses into His worshipful followers. These were the Glory Days of the Church! The Acolyte John J was the first man transformed by His Majesty, King Rex, the Living God. A museum security guard, the skinny waste of a man John J quickly cast aside his old life to follow His Saviour and Transformer. Blessed by the gift of Rex’s power, John J now had the body of his dreams, power he’d only imagined, and finally, a purpose for his purposeless life. He was more than happy to recruit other men into the fold, to help them experience the bliss of worshipping King Rex, their creator and Living God. The Acolytes John J and Sam Bennett distributed the Cycle One, turning gyms into churches and athletic departments into sects. All of that male sexual energy further empowered His Majesty, creating a never-ending cycle of growth. A worship service could have as many as a thousand muscular men cramming the sanctuary, praising His Majesty as they edged themselves into Bliss -- it was possible to actually see King Rex grow from the worship. There was no greater reward. And then, the Great Tragedy -- King Rex lost in the Multiverse! Thus began the Period of Despair -- the Consort Superion went into mourning, completely unable to function or uphold his duties, emotionally devastated to lose his King and lover. For weeks, he remained cloistered in their marital chambers, not seeing visitors, not spending time in the sun -- he weakened, some thought, hoping to die. There was dysfunction in the Church, suddenly lacking a spiritual leader. With their Lord and Saviour trapped in the Multiverse and Superion unwilling to take His place as figurehead, there was nothing to hold the flock together. The men who’d been transformed by His Majesty, the Almighty King Rex, suffered only emotionally. Those who’d been transformed by the Cycle One lost touch with the magic, their masculine spirit. With Rex gone, the supply of Cycle One was suddenly finite -- that was the conclusion many reached at once. The fight for the remaining reserve became the next battlefront. Men who’d been long-addicted to the stuff suddenly lost the will to train, the ability to get a pump, their interest in sex -- they knew they’d never again get that rush, that high without Cycle One. And thus began the Supply War. It was during this low-level, guerilla-style warfare -- bloody and heartless as it was fast becoming -- that the Acolyte John J began to counsel the Consort Superion, trying to get him past his crushing loss to see how badly the world needed a champion again. All this bloodshed, all this death for a drug made out of his husband’s cum -- this is what finally brought Superion to action. In less than a week, he’d recovered most of the lost stock of Cycle One, returning it to the vaulted catacombs in the bedrock deep beneath the Church. He still refused to participate in Religious Services, but created a statue of his Husband and Lord that stands in the Sanctuary today, as a reminder. Instead, it became the Acolyte John J’s mission to save the Church -- but he immediately realized it wasn’t religion these men needed, it was counseling. They were addicts and their god was gone. Without the drug, they were unable to access their own masculine energy. Workouts lost their meaning -- sex became impossible. And thus evolved the practice of Group Masturbation, sexual stimulation with the goal of connecting to the masculine spirit, building energy by edging, the harnessing of energy rather than ejaculation. On Cycle One, sex had always been about power -- now sexual energy was used to build power. Men who were used to getting powerful, rock-hard erections now had to take a step back, relearn stimulation and fantasy, enjoy the other wonders of the body, the taint, the balls, the asshole. Sex was more than penetration. Training changed, too -- the evolution of Connective Bodybuilding, forging a link between cock and muscle. In the Before Time, the gym had become a place almost as sacred as the Church. Cycle One had always made working out better than sex, but now there was no more Cycle One, so no connection to masculine energy. Weight training required almost too much adaptation, further separating those who’d been transformed by the Almighty from those who’d only had the Cycle One. Imagine how disheartening it would be to see some men still achieve the kind of pump you used to be able to get, but now could not -- to lift the kind of weights you used to handle with ease, but now could not. It was too hard for too many. The Acolyte John J -- now FATHER John J -- protectively doled out the Church’s supply of Cycle One in the form of Communion. A shot glass of Cycle One for the faithful once a week, then engaging in Group Masturbation while singing the praises of the Almighty Rex. Many men lost the Path, strayed. Spiritual readiness takes patience and no one began taking Cycle One because they were patient. Some men preferred their misery to the challenge of rebuilding their sexual power. After the deaths, the abandonments, the suicides, there were just a few hundred in the congregation, masturbating together and praying. As the years passed without a Second Coming, more and more fell away -- then it was a decade, then it was two. “And so here we are,” Father John J says, gently pushing Ben to a seated position on the Altar, facing the statue of King Rex. “There’s only a handful of us now, awaiting Him, praying for His return.” He kneels between Ben’s legs and unlaces Ben’s tight joggers. “But we have learned things in this time,” he continues, pulling Ben’s joggers down over his newly-muscled thighs. “Things about pleasure, the giving and receiving of it.” Ben wears a sparkly thong, barely holding his enhanced genitals -- his erection fights the material. “Let me show you,” Father John J says, releasing Ben from the confines of the thong -- his hard-on flops up on his muscular abs. “I’m not gay,” Ben mumbles, leaning back on his elbows, the soft matting of the Altar accepting his weight. “But ever since the Cycle One…” “It’s not about labels, Ben,” the Father says, gripping Ben’s erection at the base. “It’s about pleasure.” He licks the head of Ben’s cock and a shudder goes through the man. “Cycle One just bumps up your hormones and lowers your inhibitions -- neither of which will hurt you, unless it builds up in your system too much. Then you need release. Holy Release.” The Father’s hands are smooth and skilled -- a firm grip on Ben’s balls, thick fingers riding down the sides of his perineum, giving him sensations he’s never felt before -- strange new pleasure. Ben is losing himself in it. “What you feel is a gift,” says the Father, expertly swallowing the whole of Ben’s big new cock. He constricts his throat around Ben and waits for Ben’s natural thrusts before continuing. “A gift from His Majesty,” he says, lapping the tip of Ben’s cock, before descending on it again. “King Rex.” Ben looks up at the statue as the Father continues to work -- it’s unbelievable physique and impossible cock, so masculine and perfect. Ben can feel the Father fingering his asshole, gently teasing his way inside, searching for Ben’s secret button. The statue holds its arms open, as if ready to accept worship -- or orgasm -- or offering. What happens next makes no sense. The Father’s skilled mouth works in tandem with his talented fingers and, just as the Father discovers Ben’s prostate, Ben swears he sees the statue open its eyes and look directly at him, into his soul. “REX!” he screams as his orgasm overwhelms him! Not that the Father lets any get away, but Ben knows there’s a lot of cum -- he can feel it like his cock is a firehose. He shoots and shoots, crying to Heaven, certain the statue is real. “Yes, my brother,” the Father says, lapping Ben’s fading erection, cleaning every delicious drop away. “Now you feel Rex’s power. Give yourself up to it.” “I… I…” “Say it,” the Father says, standing, masturbating his own giant cock. “Let me hear you say it.” Ben smiles. “Hail King Rex,” he says, as the Father allows himself to orgasm, as if the words put him over the edge. “HAIL KING REX!” the Father yells, echoing through the sanctuary, shooting a thick rope of cum across Ben’s face. Father John J smiles again. “You’ve been baptised now in the name of our saviour, King Rex,” he says calmly, milking the last drops of cum from his cock and offering his finger to Ben -- Ben gratefully takes it in his mouth. “You are now one of us.” “Thank you,” Ben says, relieved, watching the Father refit his big package into that tiny little thong. “I actually feel better -- I feel the release. But what do we do now?” “Now we save your brother,” the Father says. “And I know just the guy…” “You’ll do that for me?” Ben asks, suddenly joyful, standing and redressing himself. “Thank you!” “Well,” the Father says, playfully kissing Ben, “we should first discuss a TITHE…” ******************************************************************************** FOUR: Ben parks the truck outside the ETERNAL STORAGE building, an old, abandoned facility scheduled for demolition (to build an Amazon distribution center -- welcome to the modern world). The parking lot is cracked and broken, stray grass and weeds growing wherever they can, reclaiming the land. It’s surrounded by a rusty chain link fence topped with barb wire. The building is in no better shape, holding its form only because it’s made from cinderblocks, but suggesting the same sort of neglect. Behind the wheel, Ben forces a deep breath before exiting the cab, in an attempt to settle himself -- it’s obvious he’s nervous, no matter the supportive talk from his passenger, Father John J. Ben is dressed in the same tight gray jumpers he wore to the Church -- the Father wears black spandex shorts, black wrist gauntlets, sandals, and a form-fitting white t-shirt that reads “REX = KING”. Exiting the cab, the Father, looking around, says, “You’re right. This IS the middle of nowhere.” Ben nods, shutting the driver’s side door behind him and looking toward the building. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I hope nothing’s happened to him.” “Who?” Father John J asks. “Oh, you mean your brother! I thought you meant…” And then, from out of the sky, a being lands on the ground before them with a surprising amount of force, breaking into the cement and creating a small crater from his weight. It’s the hero Superion! Ben has seen pictures, of course, but has never seen him live -- and the pictures don’t do him anywhere near justice! If he’s not seven-feet tall, then he’s six-and-three-quarters -- it doesn’t seem possible that a being with a build like Superion’s could exist at his height. He’s almost a giant in a children’s story, he’s so colossally large -- human proportions, but so much taller! And the muscle -- the mind-boggling muscle! Like Father John J, Superion has been transformed by King Rex, given the Royal Gift of Mass and Power, Hypermasculine Endowment, and Sexual Realignment. As Royal Consort, he’s second only to Rex Himself -- and with Rex lost in the Multiverse, Superion reigns supreme. He wears black combat boots and bright blue leggings, accented by black piping, that proudly display his oversized package and seem to barely contain the mass of his leg muscles or his thick, ripped glutes. They’re low-waisted, so that the buckle of his belt sits at the base of his cock, allowing us to see his extremely ripped abs unencumbered. Shirtless, he wears only a harness that supports his “S” shield and acts as the anchor for his red cape. Bigger than the biggest bodybuilder, his pecs are round and thick and his pink nipples hide just below the bottom edge. But it’s the width of shoulders that gives Ben pause, those crazy way-larger-than-coconut delts -- bowling ball delts! -- the strong, confident arms, the artistic curve of the lats. And if you can take your eyes from his body, to see his thick neck, his square jaw, his sunny blue eyes, his very kissable lips… Superion strides toward them, breaking Ben’s thought. He smiles, glowing white teeth catching the light. “Hello, Johnny,” he says, opening his arms for a hug. Father John J takes a knee. “Your Majesty,” he says, bowing his head. Superion puts his finger beneath the Father’s chin and raises his head. “Johnny,” he says earnestly, “it’s been twenty years. We have to move on.” He takes Father John J’s hands and raises him to his feet, then they hug. They hold each other very closely -- Ben isn’t sure if Father John J is crying or not. “He will come again,” the Father says, into Superion’s pec. Superion holds the back of Father John J’s head and whispers, “I dearly hope so” into the Father’s ear. He kisses Father John J’s forehead and releases him, turning his attention to Ben. “You must be Ben Fortunato,” he says, holding his hand out to shake. Ben considers dropping to his knees, that’s how strikingly beautiful this man is. Instead, he stammers, “Um… yes. Ben. And you must be… incredible!” Superion smiles broadly -- he’s heard this joke. “Superion,” he says, shaking Ben’s hand. “I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances.” “I’m so grateful for your help,” Ben says. Superion grunts. “Anything to put another one of these fires out,” he says, looking up at the building. Something happens to his eyes as he looks, but Ben can’t say exactly what. “He’s up there,” Superion announces, studying. “He’s okay -- he’s pretty big.” “Thank God he’s okay,” Ben says, crossing himself. “How big?” Father John J interrupts. “Is the Cycle One okay? How much is left?” They both look at the Father dryly. Superion says, “Do you know, Johnny, nothing would make me happier than to destroy this building and all the Cycle One in it -- you know that, right?” The Father squares off with him. “I do,” he says, trying to maintain his bravado. “But you won’t, right?” Superion smiles enigmatically. “I’m gonna go get your brother,” he says to Ben. “I won’t be a minute.” He enters the building and disappears from view. Ben and the Father don’t even have time to begin a conversation before the wall above them blows out, throwing chunks of cinderblock, cement, and bottles of Cycle One raining down like shrapnel as Superion’s body comes crashing through, flying about twenty feet before slamming into the ground. Superion stands, wiping the dust from himself -- with the back of his hand, he strokes the side of his jaw that has just been punched. Superion is clearly unhappy. He strides toward the building, kicking away the stray bottles, determined. “You guys might want to stand back,” he says. “He’s not being cooperative.” Superion flies back into the hole he just made. Seconds later, a different body crashes out through the roof -- not Superion -- a hugely muscled man dressed only in a pair of neon green short shorts that ride into his ass-crack. “For the love of God!” Ben yells. “GLENN!” His brother sails up about thirty or forty feet into the air before arcing down toward the ground. He lands hard on his back with a wind-losing smack. Trying to shake it off and stand, he snorts like an animal. Ben is trying to comprehend what his brother has become. Even in the few days since Ben last saw him, Glenn has grown. His brother had always been a heavy-set, snowman/ pear-shaped guy, wide hips and narrow shoulders. Now he’s a freak bodybuilder with a roidgut that rivals a beach ball, supporting these thick and ponderous limbs. It should be impossible for him to move, given the size of his muscle -- traps that almost keep him from turning his head, a back so wide he can’t lower his arms completely -- yet move he does, with confidence and surprising grace. Superion flies up out of the hole in the roof and lands about ten feet away from Ben’s brother. “Stop!” he commands, holding up a flat palm. But like an angry bull, perhaps egged-on by Superion’s flowing red cape, Glenn charges, gaining steam with each step. It takes little effort for Superion to side-step him, trip him, and force him forward till he slams into the side of the building. Glenn roars in anger, throwing a chunk of broken block at Superion. As Superion knocks it aside, Glenn takes advantage of the distraction and tackles Superion from the side, taking him to the ground. His brother is bigger than Superion! “He’s in a rage!” Father John J says as he and Ben seek a better observation spot, running to the far-side of the building -- Father John tries to grab the extra bottles. “His energy is out of control.” Glenn has Superion in a schoolboy pin, squatting across Superion’s torso, kneeling on his biceps, punching him over and over in the face, raging. “GLENN!” Ben calls, distracting his brother for just a moment, but enough. Glenn looks at Ben and Superion grabs Glenn’s fist, halting it mid-strike. Superion stands, holding Glenn by the wrist, spins him around and around like a lasso, before throwing him to the other side of the parking lot, where he lands with a loud crunch. “This guy’s pretty far gone,” Superion says to Father John J as Glenn starts to charge back across the lot -- a rhino. “Any ideas? I don’t want to hurt him.” “You have to release his pent-up energy,” Father John J frets, shaking his head as Glenn leaps into the air. “You have to…” Glenn lands within their circle and the reverberation knocks them all off their feet. He steps toward Ben, fierce anger filling his eyes, no recognition, but the hard-on beneath his spandex shorts is more than obvious. Before he can strike, however, Superion grabs him from behind in a full-nelson and flies them up about ten feet into the air. Glenn is trying to shake his grip, thrashing about, but he lacks leverage. That he’s sexually stimulated is lost on no one -- his erection throbs. “You have to make him cum!” Father John J yells. “You have to make him release!” Superion’s grimace speaks volumes, but he sighs and reaches around Glenn, grabbing Glenn’s erection at its thick base, rubbing his hand over the spandex material. Glenn reacts in a surprising way, moaning in his deep throat -- his whole drive seems to shift from “rage” to “lust” as easy as the stick on an old jalopy. He starts dry-humping the air, rubbing his ass against Superion. Horrified, Ben can’t look away. Of all the things he didn’t think he’d be seeing today, this had to top the list. On the other hand, his brother had tried to sexually engage Ben after Ben’s transformation, which had freaked Ben out so much he ran away and brought back Superion. And now it looks like Superion is enjoying himself, too -- there’s no hiding what’s going on in his blue leggings. Father John J had said Superion hasn’t had sex since his lover -- this King Rex -- got tossed into the Multiverse. How does someone go twenty years without sex? MONKS don’t even do that! “It’s not enough to jerk him off,” Father John J yells. “You have to... press his button!” Superion’s frustrated reaction weakens his grip on Glenn, who breaks Superion’s hold and suddenly drops to the ground with a heavy, dull thud. Superion is on him in a flash and the two of them wrestle in the parking lot -- but it isn’t to fight. This is different -- it’s two men squaring off. This is foreplay. Other than size, Glenn has no real advantage over Superion. And now that Superion has a new drive, there’s really no stopping him. Superion is erect himself, his cock as supremely out of proportion as everything else about him -- whatever else this Rex favors, it’s big-dicked muscle-bottoms. They flex at each other, Superion and Ben’s brother, a Most Muscular, an ab/ thigh -- showing off, mutual worship -- double biceps, erections straining flimsy material. Glenn smacks Superion’s pecs with an open hand, then squeezes the muscle as Superion flexes -- fucking rock hard -- punching cement. Looking each other in the eye, Glenn falls to his knees and begins mouthing Superion’s cock through the heavy spandex of Superion’s leggings. Superion unclasps his belt and releases it, allowing Glenn to take it in his mouth. Clearly at some level, Glenn knows what he needs. Or what he wants. “Get it wet,” Superion orders him. “Get it good and wet -- or it’s gonna hurt.” “What’s going on?” Ben asks Father John J as the Father collects stray bottles of Cycle One. Father John J looks at Superion, then at Ben. “He’s going to fuck him,” Father John J says. “He’s gotta fuck him and press his button, release the energy. Same as I did with you at the Church!” Ben crosses himself. “But you just used your fingers,” Ben says. “Why does he have to…?” Father John J shushes him. Glenn holds Superion’s cock in his fist and spits on the head, immediately putting it back in his mouth, soaking the thick, super-shaft. Superion pushes him onto his back, straddling Glenn’s chest to allow Glenn to continue sucking his cock, but putting Superion into a dominant position. Superion licks his fingers and reaches for Glenn’s hole -- so tight -- Glenn squirms, discovering a new sensation. “Yeah,” Superion says. “Big boy likes that.” “All Hail His Majesty’s Consort, the Mighty Superion,” Father John J intones, falling to his knees with an armful of bottles. “All praise King Rex!” Superion shoots Father John J a snide look. “Don’t do that shit, Johnny,” he says. “This is pragmatism, not Church! Toss me a bottle of that stuff!” “It IS Church!” Father John J argues, still on his knees. “You engage in the holiest of acts, a sacrifice -- an offering! I must pray!” Superion shakes his head but doesn’t argue. “Throw me a bottle of that stuff!” he says again. Father John J won’t release what he’s gathered, so it’s Ben who throws one to him -- or overthrows, actually -- he doesn’t know his own strength. Superion catches it with such confidence and ease that it makes it look like it had been intended that way. Superion cracks open the Cycle One, sniffs it -- a memory floats across his features -- and he pours a tiny bit over his cock, into Glenn’s desperate mouth. Glenn groans again, desperately lapping it off. Superion pulls his cock out of Glenn’s mouth and says, “On your hands and knees -- NOW.” He levitates slightly, allowing the three-hundred-plus giant to spin beneath him -- moving from one submissive pose to the next -- then he slowly pours the Cycle One down Glenn’s ass-crack, until it reaches the fingers Superion has against Glenn’s hole. Using the honey-thick Cycle One as lube, Superion pushes his fingers in. Glenn’s moan is a roar that can be heard for miles. “Bigger than that coming,” Superion says, pushing his fingers in and out. Father John J weaves while he prays. “We commend this energy to you, Great Lord, lost in the Multiverse, that it might find you and strengthen you for your journey home!” Superion yells. “Johnny, please!” as he pours the Cycle One on his hard cock, like sauce on a meaty rib. “Just let me do what I came here to do!” “Release it!” Father John J prays. “Give it back to the Master!” Superion slams his foot-long cock into Glenn’s waiting ass -- they both scream, both of them from a different sort of denial, but coming together here in this parking lot. Has there been a change in the light? Ben wonders, unable to take his eyes away from his brother’s submission. Where did this wind come from? “Can you feel it?” Father John J shouts. “CAN YOU FEEL THE MASTER?” Superion begins fucking Ben’s brother, doggie-style, gently at first, even then, barely keeping control of himself -- it’s been so long, Superion -- but then, even Glenn wants him to go harder, pushing his ass back into Superion’s cock, trying to form words. Trying to find his own button. And there’s something else around Superion, something familiar, whispering in his memory, filling him with strength and power -- a masculine spirit. Making him fuck -- forcing him to connect and dominate. It feels like his husband… Is he feeling the effects of Cycle One? He releases -- who fucking cares? Fuck -- Superion wants to fuck. He drives into Glenn’s ass, fucking so hard they break the pavement. It’s power and forgotten masculine urges, decades of repression. “CAN YOU FEEL IT?” Father John J yells above the din, the wind, the energy. “PRAY WITH ME! PRAY TO OUR LORD, LOST IN THE MULTIVERSE!” Superion fucks Glenn with his super-long cock, pounding a forgotten, manly rhythm in his loin, awakening something deep within him. The energy crackles like lightning around them. Ben falls to his knees, his legs weak -- what is he seeing? They’re fucking there in the broken parking lot, his brother and Superion, it’s broad daylight, but there’s a sense of darkness around them, reality seems to shift as their sexual energy grows. Superion groans. “I’m so close…” Glenn rises up on his knees, exposing own erection that rises exactly along the curve of his distended belly, almost to his navel. Glenn is flexing his arms in a double bis -- Superion uses them as anchors, deep-thrusting. “Gonna… cum…” “WE CALL ON THEE, GREAT LORD! WE GRANT THEE THIS OFFERING!” Superion, a being that hasn’t orgasmed in nearly two decades, shoots his almost impossible load -- Glenn, who has never anally-orgasmed, explodes with incredible pent-up masculine energy, his “overdose” on Cycle One, and climaxes simultaneously. They scream together, too, full-throated and deep. There’s an explosion -- well, something very much like one. It’s like nothing Ben has ever experienced before. There’s no sound, no BOOM -- it’s almost as if someone takes reality, twists it, and then releases it to snap back into place. The explosion -- if one can call it an explosion -- is energy, electricity and force, concussive and multi-layered. There is a soundless brightness that blows them all back -- Ben’s back slams into the wall of the Eternal building, cracking the brick. There’s a hissing in the background, like pink noise, that settles out of the silence -- and then Ben’s hearing comes back. Or reality comes back -- it’s hard to say. His brother Glenn’s body slams on the ground before him, steaming a little, digging up the asphalt a little more. He rolls over on his back directly in front of Ben. “GLENN!” Ben calls, scrambling over to his brother. He slaps his face. “Glenn, wake up! Oh, God… Oh, sweet God be okay.” Glenn comes to, a little disoriented -- the crazed, drug-addled look in his eye is gone. “Ben?” he asks, looking Ben in the eye. “What’s going on? I… Bro… what happened? You’re huge! Wait, I’M huge!” Ben chuckles. “It’s a long story,” he says, nearly in tears. “And I don’t think it’s over yet…” Both Superion and Father John J had been knocked back, too, in opposite directions. Superion is already recovering, steaming himself, studying the blast area. The spot where they’d cum is now a blown out pit, smoke and steam and electric crackles encircling it. Superion immediately checks on the others, locating and diagnosing their injuries -- bumps and bruises, but generally okay -- when he hears a moan come from the pit itself. What? How is that possible? Father John J hears the sound as well, and draws up onto his knees like a hopeful teen. As Superion stands on shaky feet, the figure in the pit finds his footing, too, his face hidden by the steam, the unnatural shadow, and electrical snaps. He is a giant of man, bigger than Superion, more powerful, more muscular. His god-given body beyond fantasy, his muscle on the edge of impossible. In his purple shorts with the gold piping, the golden boots and gauntlets, the simple over the shoulder cape and the electric-metal lightning bolt emblazoned on his chest, he is instantly recognizable. Especially to Superion. “Rex…?” he asks, a smile finding the corner of his mouth. “Is it really you?” The muscle god smiles. “Superion?” he asks. “Am I home? Am I finally home?” They fall into each other’s arms, laughing and kissing, relieved and amazed. Even Ben smiles, happy that there’s a happy ending with Cycle One for once. Glenn, confused, asks his tearful brother, “What’s happening…?” He’s answered by Father John J. “It is the return of His Majesty, Rex the Almighty!” Rex and Superion continue to kiss, flying up into the air together. Father John J opens his arms to the world. “IT IS THE SECOND COMING!” **************************************************************************************** EPILOGUE: “Hey everybody, this is Glenn!” “And this is Ben!” “We’re the Fortunato Brothers! And you’re watching another episode of ‘Can You Believe They Bought That Shit?’” TITLE -- THEME MUSIC “In this episode, we’re actually gonna be talking about SELLING shit for a change.” “Hey! Before we go on... Viewers, did you notice our new logo in the opening?” (CUTAWAY: the old logo, the Fortunato Brothers looking like cartoon Laurel & Hardy (one fat, one thin) fades to the new logo: Laurel & Hardy as bodybuilders, one arm wrapped around their brother and the other flexing their biceps. (CUT BACK to the live Brothers in the same pose as the logo, barely holding their laughter.) “If you’ve noticed we look a little different than we have in past episodes, but you don’t know why, it’s possible you missed our TRANSFORMATION SPECIAL that dropped a couple weeks ago.” “I don’t know, Ben. With over two-hundred million downloads, I don’t think many people have missed out TRANSFORMATION SPECIAL!” “It’s still available if you have, that’s all I’m saying…” “But what you HAVEN’T missed is what transformed us into this muscled perfection, the awesome sports drink CYCLE ONE!” Glenn reveals a bottle in frame, holding it for the camera to see -- plain, ordinary looking stuff for what it could do. “It took about a dozen of these to transform my skinny brother Ben there into THAT!” Ben flexes for the camera, his muscle pumped, his confidence high. “No lie,” Ben says. “Believe me, I would never have done this without CYCLE ONE -- I was too lazy and too weak. Not anymore.” Glenn wraps his massive arm around Ben’s neck and pulls him close -- he kisses the side of Ben’s head. “Isn’t he cute?” Glenn asks. “So, we’re doin’ something we don’t normally do: we’re selling some shit. CYCLE ONE, to be specific. You can get to my brother’s size with a twelve-pack -- you can get to mine with a case!” The brothers flex for the camera -- the spandex shirts they wear ripple with muscle. “We haven’t even talked about the biggest bonus!” Glenn continues to flex for the camera. “Tell ‘em, Ben!” “When you go to the bidding page, click the link to join King Rex’s Holy Order and be a Knight for His Majesty, the power behind Cycle One, the Living God, King Rex, once lost in the Multiverse but now found! Be His Knight, His Holy Warrior, and join the Crusade in His second coming!” Glenn laughs. “Geez, Ben, you sound like a fanboy!” Ben is sincere. “I witnessed God’s Second Coming, Glenn,” Ben says simply. “That kind of thing… changes a man…” ************************************************************************************* Sam Bennett pauses the video. He’s watched it a thousand times -- he knows what it says by heart, by now. Still, it’s the first thing to give him an erection in almost a decade. How should he feel about that? He presses Play. “...sound like a fanboy.” “I witnessed God’s Second Coming, Glenn. That kind of thing… changes a man…” Pause. Not really believing he’s doing it, but somehow certain it’s the right move, Sam Bennett presses the link to join the Knighthood, the Holy Order of King Rex. He does it because he wants to believe in Happy Endings.
  19. Steve walked into the gym with butterflies in his stomach. He had signed up for a 6 month training program with Brian, a 285lb musclebear who was not only a highly sought after strength coach, but also had advanced degrees in chemistry and biology. When Steve had first met Brian at the consultation, he was intimidated by the bigger man's sheer size. Brian's arms were thicker than Steve's legs, and he had pecs that looked like boulders grafted onto his chest. But Brian's friendly smile and gentle demeanor soon put Steve at ease. "I think we can do great things together," Brian said as he looked over Steve's stats - 25 years old, average build at 5'10" 185lbs, 15 inch biceps and a 42 inch chest. Steve explained his goals were to gain size and strength, but also drop his body fat percentage which was currently sitting around 26%. Brian devised a comprehensive plan to transform Steve's physique over 6 months using a combination of strategic nutrition and periodized strength training. They would focus on building Steve's foundation first before moving into more advanced techniques like chemical muscle enhancement. Steve was eager yet apprehensive as he started the program. Brian had him training 5 days a week, following a routine that cycled heavy compound lifts like squats, deadlifts and bench press with lighter isolation movements. The workouts were brutal, often leaving Steve sore for days after. "No pain no gain!" Brian would bellow as he added more plates to the bar, forcing Steve to grind out those last critical reps. The dietary plan was just as regimented. Brian had Steve eating 6 meals a day, focusing on lean proteins, complex carbs and healthy fats. Bacon and butter were off the menu, replaced by chicken breast and brown rice. Steve missed his junk food fixes, but trusted in Brian's expertise. After 8 weeks, Steve started to see and feel a difference in his physique. The scales said he was up to 195lbs, having gained 10lbs of mass. But the bigger change was in his body composition - the flab around his midsection had noticeably reduced. Brian's workouts and meal plan were melting away the fat while adding slabs of muscle to Steve's frame. At the 3 month mark, the gains were coming even faster. Steve weighed in at 205lbs, with his biceps now measuring 16.5 inches cold. Visible abs began to etch across his stomach as his body fat percentage dropped down to 16%. Brian kept pushing Steve harder in the gym, yelling at him to squeeze out every last rep. "You're becoming a beast brother!" Brian said, admiring Steve's burgeoning muscles as they posed together in the mirror. Steve no longer felt intimidated standing next to the massive musclebear. The compliments from friends and coworkers on Steve's growing physique fueled his motivation to stick to the plan. For the first time in his life, he felt proud and confident about his body. At 6 months, he had reached 200lbs and reduced his body fat to 10%. The once average built Steve was now a massively muscular 200 pound stud. But Brian had even bigger plans for the next phase of the program. "I've created some chemical compounds that are going to take your gains to the next level," Brian explained, showing Steve his makeshift home laboratory. "My chem and biology degrees are finally paying off!" Brian started administering small doses of the experimental formulas, explaining how they would accelerate muscle protein synthesis while also inhibiting myostatin. Steve noticed the effects almost instantly - workouts that used to wipe him out now felt easy as his strength shot through the roof. Brian kept upping the dosage, keen to test the limits of what his formulas could achieve. Over the next 6 months, Steve's physique exploded. Brian's chemical muscle enhancement program packed layer after layer of thick, striated beef onto Steve's frame at an astonishing rate. What used to be average was now a monument to human muscularity. At the end of 12 months, Steve had soared from 185lbs to an eye-popping 260lbs of mass monster. His arms taped out at a freaky 25 inches, with wrists so thick that his watch no longer fit over them. Veins wriggled across his biceps even at rest, fatigued from trying to keep up with the colossal muscle's demand for blood. With a barrel chest measuring 58 inches around, Steve could barely find shirts that fit over his jutting pecs and 8-pack abs. His neck bulged out wider than most people's thighs. "This is incredible! I'm a whole different person now," Steve exclaimed, struggling to recognize himself in the mirror. He had to lean down just to see past his mountainous pecs and bowling ball delts. Legs like tree trunks carried Steve's 260lbs frame effortlessly. His quads swelled like beach balls stuffed under tan skin, diamond shaped calves popping as he walked. But for all his intimidating size, Steve remained humble and gracious. He continued training at the gym, only now the roles were reversed - wide-eyed beginners asked Steve for advice on building freaky mass. Brian loved having a walking advertisement for the potency of his muscle formulas. "Never forget where it all started," Brian said, patting the mammoth Steve on the back. "You may be huge, but always stay hungry bro!" Steve had embarked on this journey a small, shy guy lacking confidence. Now he stood tall and proud, 260lbs of ripped muscle and strength forged from determination. Steve knew he owed it all to Brian for pushing him further than he could have ever imagined. The two muscle brothers had a bond that would last forever.
  20. Hammster

    The Factory

    First story, so feedback wanted Part 1 Max quickly perked up as he heard the knock on the door. Ever since he heard that his neighborhood was next, he sat right on view of the front door; not wanting to waste any second. Why wouldn't he be excited? Class president, captain of sports teams, volunteer, and of course, tall, buff, and handsome. If someone's a lock to be an enhanced, it's him. "You're one, where's the other?" The buff officer said as he taps on his tablet. Max's look of excitement falters a little as he's hit with worry. He had hoped a clerical error or a stroke of luck hit, and his brother didn't have to go through the procedure. Who'd want to see the one he cares the most fall to the bottom rung of society? But now that the officer specifically called for him, Max has to cooperate. With hesitation, Max points towards a door on the of the hallway. =================== 10 deaths, 11 deaths, 12 deaths Timmy bangs his desk in frustration. Seems like the only thing he's good at is failing. School, romance, family, and now, games. Not that he'll quit gaming though; at least not until the government assigns his place. He knows he's destined for the lows, unlike his brother. That's why he's pouring everything into gaming; there might not be time to play when the only thing he's allowed to do is serve the enhanced. Max, that fuck. Always pretending to care. Always pushing me to go to the gym. Always inviting me to volunteer and shit. Probably wants me there to laugh at me. At least I wo... Suddenly Timmy's door breaks. Two imposing men here to collect the new shit-scraper. They look at Timmy with disgust. A smelly, short and pudgy mess, a pig sty for a room, and practically no achievements of note. Even if Timmy was never someone of note intelligence wise, he still knew what was going on. He knew this was inevitable, but he's not going down without a fight. ================ From the truck outside, Max hears screams coming from inside the house. Then, just a minute later, out come Timmy trying his best to hold back his tears. "YOU BROKE MY PC!" He screamed as he angrily stomps towards the truck. In his haste, he sat right in front of Max, the person he hates the most. Max tried to calm him down, but it was only met with silence. Max knew he had to do something to fix this. On the horizon they saw the machine. As wide as factories, as tall as skyscrapers. The motor of modern society, the factory. ======================= What started out as an idea thrown around pre-war, it quickly gained steam after the great war. Famine, deaths, and lack of skill made it hard for society to rebuild, so they turned to an old idea as a solution. A machine to determine and set ones role in society. One who gives or takes intelligence, skill, and size according to ones role. Within the first few runs, it was clear that the machine creates a clear social ladder. The rich, beautiful, and powerful, and the meek, stupid and poor. All determined by weights and algorithms of the machine. At first people protested, although once the enhanced people gained power, resistance got slowly squashed. And once the social ladder was set for the whole society, no one dared to question the continuation of the program. ====================== "Get your card and Lineup!" Max stood right in front of Timmy as the group they're in slowly enters the chamber underneath the machine. The pattern was obvious. The accomplished gets enhanced, the failures gets devolved, while the average ones are more of a crapshoot. In the line itself, there were two clear outliers. Max, who towered above everyone in both accomplishments and physicality, and Timmy, who is towered above by everyone else in both accomplishments and physicality. Timmy nervously fidgets and Max sees it. Max couldn't help but hate the thought of Timmy being so far underneath him while he becomes a leader among leaders. Max then did the unthinkable, switching both of their cards without Timmy knowing. His thinking was that the card holds the information for ones accomplishments, and if Timmy's body was combined with Max's accomplishments he'd also be enhanced. Max didn't care if he was just a regular enhanced, he just wants both of them to be equal. ==================== A project lead once realized a problem. A person's current body may not hold the true potential of themselves. Either through issues ranging from socio-economic, accidental, even to an unexpected disease. It is not uncommon to see someone not hitting their physical potential. Thankfully, the enhanced age has brought a new realm of science. Now, ones genetic potential is coded into their cards. No longer must the machine slowly scan ones body. All they need is ones card to acquire all their genetic information and their complete real-life resume. ================ Finally, the line arrived at Max. Timmy's card in hand, he entered the tube.
  21. I've written my first story, to accompany one of my drawing sequences. I hope you enjoy and be kind and leave feedback! Warning, contains unwilling transformation and some bro on bro action. If you enjoy this then please consider me for commissions! Message me for rates - open to all kinds of transformation. You can also support me on Patreon to see exclusive work and vote on future works: patreon.com/user?u=63775323 Oh and also - I would LOVE for other people to write kinky stories to go with some of my sequences! Or write me a new story so we can collab hehe ************* A Tale of Two Brothers: Donnie & Marco There was nothing particularly remarkable about brothers Marco and Donnie Diaz. Born to a mixed white and Latinx family they were raised predominantly by their father, Mr Diaz, after their mother walked out when Marco was just 6 and Donnie was 2. Mr Diaz worked for a local private science group and their lives were perfectly normal and respectable – they went to church every Sunday, Donnie studied hard and Marco hardly studied now he’d graduated high school and dropped out of community college after a couple of years. Out of the two brothers Marco, the older, was definitely the less inclined to hard work and study. He enjoyed gaming, drinking and sleeping in until well past midday – oh and masturbating of course. He was handsome, and had broken more than a few girls hearts with his tanned skin and thick dark chestnut-brown hair. He favoured sportswear and silver jewellery such as his fine silver chain necklace. If there was one thing he hated though it was his glasses and he swore to get laser eye surgery when older. The one thing Marco did put effort into was sports and he particularly enjoyed basketball, despite being only 5’9’’. Younger brother Donnie on the other hand was adorable, but more in the way that you just wanted to take care of him. His skin tone was paler but his thick tousled hair darker and he was even shorter than his brother at just 5’6’’. Like Marco, he too wore glasses, though they complimented his bookish personality. Whereas Marco liked dark clothes, Donnie favoured bright, peppy colours and a silver crucifix hung around his neck. Donnie studied hard and clearly had a similar mind to his father, fascinated by science. He was shy though and kept his head down, he did not have his brother’s confidence. Donnie and Marco didn’t exactly along and were prone to arguing or fighting, usually provoked by Marco when he was bored or restless. This was worse during the week when their father would leave them to look after themselves now they were both of age. Recently his work had meant he was frequently away until late at night leaving the boys to look after themselves. Though Marco was in technically in charge, it was unsurprisingly Donnie who took up most of the cooking and cleaning. “What are you working on, dad? What’s the top secret project?” Donnie would ask excitedly, his scientific brain whirring with possibility. But Mr Diaz would only chuckle and say it was more than his pay grade to tell Donnie that. After Mr Diaz left the room, Marco would snigger and flick balls of paper at Donnie calling him a “nerd”, though he too was privately curious. Over weeks the brother’s curiosity would lead to them trying new methods to getting their dad to share what his work was – Marco believed it must be some sort of secret FBI technology, whereas Donnie felt it must be a project for sustainable energy. Mr Diaz however never gave anything away. The brothers didn’t even know the name of the company their dad worked for! Their routine continued unremarkably until one week where Mr Diaz abruptly announced he would be away the full week for work – it was a crucial time for the project and he needed his sons to look after themselves. That same Monday morning he loaded up his car with his briefcases, laptop, loading cases and other paraphernalia and gave his sons a big hug goodbye. “You look after your little brother, now – you’re the man of the house after all” he joked, tousling up Marco’s hair to Marco’s annoyance. Donnie smiled resignedly, knowing it would be a week fo Marco doing sweet fuck all, whilst Donnie tried to keep on top of things, all the while that Marco would either be in his room jerking off, off out drinking with mates, or existing purely to wind him up. They watched their father drive away before Donnie headed back up to his room and study. Marco however wasn’t going to waste a minute. Although Donnie was the one always asking about his father’s work, Marco was dying to find out. He might be lazy, but he wasn’t stupid and his father’s secrecy was more than enough to raise his suspicions. Hell, if it was some Musk level science shit their might be some serious money! So as soon as his dad was out of sight and Donnie was in his room, he snuck into his dad’s study. The room was called a study but was more like a home laboratory with multiple screens, fridges, freezers, centrifuges and test tubes. And it was a bombsite. Marco stared in shock – it looked like it had been raided, or that Mr Diaz had left in a hurry. Cupboards were open, scraps of paper everywhere, lights flashing. Marco held his breath as he looked across the notes and logs and calculations – only nothing made sense to him (he was not a natural scientist after all). For a full half hour he carefully searched for some hint of what the project was when he discovered two vials in the smallest fridge, filled with bright green liquid. They were labelled differently: “H1-M80 formula: premium. Masculinity and Virility certain.” “H1-M80 formula: unbalanced, Effects uncertain.” Now, he may not be bright but he knew what masculinity and virility meant. He looked again at the notes strewn around him – phrases jumped out at him, now making more sense: “increased libido”, “significant mesomorphic growth”, “testosterone output exponential”. He also knew that his future didn’t lie in hard work and study. He grinned as he pocketed the two left over vials – he knew what he planned to do with one but it would be a shame to waste the other. He chuckled softly to himself as he looked up to a framed photo of him and his stupid, dorky brother Donnie… *** “But you never make dinner?” Donnie said suspiciously as they sat down for Marco’s home made curry that evening. “Well bro, I realise I’ve kinda been a dick to you and… well I just wanted to make it up to you this week. Now – eat up!” said Marco, uncharacteristically sweetly. The curry in fact didn’t taste half bad! Though there was something about it which tasted… different to any other curry Donnie had tasted before. “Marco, what exactly did you put in this curry?” “oh just some… buffalo sauce… secret recipe tip” Marco lied, quickly and efficiently. “Well, I guess it did the job!”, Donnie hesitated a wary smile at his brother before tucking into the rest of his meal… *** The next morning Donnie woke up feeling like his head was full of fog. As he stretched he didn’t notice that his bones seem to click and pop a little more than usual. He winced as his watch felt like it was digging in, so he loosened the strap. Wearing just his pyjama pants he frowned at his more-persistent-than-usual boner. He chanced it and hesitated before heading into the corridor to head to the family bathroom. He let himself in and gasped suddenly as he saw himself in the mirror, pyjama bottoms tented. Firstly – his previously slightly doughy body was toned now – he had a flat stomach and even a slightly proud pair of pecs. A dusting of dark hair worked up his abs and he gingerly touched the growth of small dark hairs on his top lip. “Looking butch, bro” chuckled Marco’s voice and Donnie span round to see his brother – once taller, now a similar height, stood in nothing but bulging boxer shorts. He too looked buffer – he had always been lean but now he looked like an actual gym-jock. Donnie’s eyes couldn’t help but rake over the broad tanned chest and impressive bulge before he yelled and shoved his brother out the room before he washed and hurriedly shaved his face smooth again. Later, as he was forcing his way into a now too-tight t-shirt which now revealed an inch of belly and those pesky trail hairs and showed off his new lean body shape, he noticed with horror that the upper lip hairs had grown back, thicker and darker than before. He tried to spend the rest of the day as normal, but he couldn’t help the looks he got in the coffee shop (was the nerdy, twinky barista actually checking him out?) or the librarian asking if he was feeling okay, as he could feel his clothes getting tighter. Donnie just nodded his head, stifling a groan at the pain in his stomach. As soon as he got home to his room he tore off his clothing and, shocked at his own pent up horn, jerked off over his bed before passing out to sleep as, unbeknownst to him, Marco grinned and watched through the door crack, gently rubbing his own package… *** The next afternoon Marco grinned himself in the mirror as he hauled his naked ass out of bed. His small pecs have increased in size and his arms ache as his forearms look thicker and meatier. His biceps swelling a little as his hands too look broader. Marco can feel every bit of pain in his transformation as his spine lengthens his back making him just a little taller. His feet have grown outward, by a couple inches, as his butt stands pert, round and proud. His cock and balls begin to swell and grow more as his balls fill with new fluids of a man growing. His legs feeling heavy as his calves bulge out. Marco doesn’t even feel the changes, only the fresh breeze on his exposed now cock and balls which he fondles. Sexy stubble peppers his chin but unlike Donnie he doesn’t seem to have grown any body hair – if anything it’s starting to retreat. What was once a thick bush is now stubble around his thick cock. He fingers a drop of pre as he hears his bro yell in shock as he too wakes up late and stumbles to the mirror. Donnie stands before his mirror, hands clutching his body as his pecs bounce as they slowly swell. His arms even larger than the day before. His legs getting more muscular, years of intense workouts can’t even compare to what his legs seem now. His abs have pushed out of his flat stomach forming a nice 6-pack. His Adam’s apple too has grown and is now quire prominent as his groans get deeper. His facial hair growing at a faster rate then before giving him a clear developing moustache as well as stubble across his jaw. His skin tight as his acne starts to fade away. “What the actual fuck” he whispers, before gasping at his new, lower voice. He runs to his brothers bedroom and stops in the door as he sees Marco reclined on the bed stroking his thick, uncut cock. “Sup bro”, Marco winks. Donnie runs out the room, scrambling to pull on some red joggers. He stocks up on food from the kitchen and returns to his room, locking the door, only he can’t get the image of his muscled up bro stroking his cock out of his head, he curled up in bed and slipped into an anxious sleep. Meanwhile Marco spent the afternoon switching between jerking and sending pics of his new body and cock to all his snapchat contacts – male, female, he just didn’t care – he wanted to show off! Many didn’t believe him, but it didn’t matter. He just liked the attention of it all. Donnie woke up that evening to his head having this painful throbbing sensation. He ran into the bathroom to see if there was anything to treat the headache, but there wasn’t. The pain got worse gradually. He clutched his head as his deep groans filled the room. The ache was too much. His tears ran down his face, he wanted it to stop, but it didn’t. In fact, the headache start to feeling it was changing him. He tried to think, but found it difficult to even think of a solution. Usually, whenever he had a problem, he could figure it out in the matter of seconds, but now this was a problem he couldn’t solve. Tears stung his eyes as the pain of his head felt worse, his thoughts all foggy and uncertain, unable to think much. The one thing he could think of was that image of his brother on the bed. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he released his thick cock from his red sweatpants and grabbed one hand around his dick and started stroking. He had never been like this. Each stroke was making him feel better in many ways. Donnie jaw dropped allowing saliva to fall on his dick. Thoughts of his bros body and cock filled his head and he liked it – he imagined his brothers butt jiggling and cock swinging as he felt pressure build up in his dick. He was going to release. Donnie was ready and didn’t care where it would land as long as the dumb headache would go. And it did. Donnie let out a white stream of cum as he laughed dumbly as the stream splattered up his abs and his pecs… wait his pecs!? He scrambled to his feet and the panic returned as he noticed those tight pecs had grown… only now they were round and bounced as he panted… hell they were almost like breasts. A cold sweat broke over him as he muttered to himself, “What in the name of God is happening to us…”. “We’re becoming Gods bro” came a voice from the door, and Donnie looked over to see Marco flexing as he winked once more – “oh, and thanks for the show.” *** The next afternoon Donnie woke up in a big sweaty mess as he grunted and grown – a mix of plain and erotic pleasure. He starts grinding on the bed not being able to control himself at all. He tries to stop but it feels so good. His body producing an odor of a heavy sweat. He can feel his body swelling again. His pecs bulging and becoming rounder. His arms becoming bigger as more dark hair sprouts over his body. His genes are rearranging. He doesn’t even realize how big he is getting, since he is too busy fucking his bed. His balls growing larger as Donnie moans, nipples growing wider. He uses one hand to rub them as he moans louder with each thrust put into the bed. He can feel his head aching again as he needs to release his cum. He needs to breed. He needs to fuck something. Donnie is terrified but at the same time he secretly loves it. His feet grow larger as they hang off the bed, also sprouting dark hair. He is so big now. Donnie’s face changes as his face matures, looking older – more like a man in his 30s now. . The pressure is building up and too much to hold and the bed sheet are filled with sweat and pre cum. He moans loudly one last time as thick cum spurts over his round chest, face and headboard. Donnie rolls into the big mess he has made with his mouth open and tongue out, trying to lick up anything he can. Donnie can’t control himself anymore. He just needs cum now. He doesn’t want anything else. All the times studying wasted when he could have been jerking his cock. Donnie walks up to his mirror, noticing how big he is and how much different he looks. He fucking loves it as he flexes his huge hairy arms. He loves how big and bouncy his balls are. Even if he shaved the monster of hair on his balls would grow back in the matter of hours. The drool on his face is wiped as he rubs his large nipples. He loves the feeling and so he rubs more vigorously, vaguely wondering where his hot brother is. *** Meanwhile Marco is already out – he got up early and hard as a rock, his height has shot up overnight as had his muscle mass and cock size. Pulling on some tightly stretched active wear he ventured out into the world in search of some release. He found it when he swaggered into the coffee shop his bro would always go to – and there he is, that nerdy, kinda cute barista that is clearly gay – nametag reading ‘Joel’. As he ordered a latte he leaned forward and whispered into the nerdy twink’s ear to meet him round the back in 10 minutes. 10 minutes later Marco’s moans echoed round the back of the building as gagged and tried to take in his huge cock in his mouth. Between slobbering and sucking the twink would marvel at Marco’s tanned huge muscles and Marco would just laugh and cock slap the barista. Joel used both his hands to rub the huge dick and inhaled the sweat from Marco’s hot hairless body. He bathed the huge balls with his tongue as pre spurted and stained his apron. He was so taken up with his task that he barely noticed Marco’s dick getting larger and fatter, or even that the foreskin seemed to fade into his fat, long, dick. Marco’s head hair remained full though it receded slightly up his forehead as his face matured more – jawline pushing out and lips plumping up. His swollen pecs and abs become more noticeable as they bulge yet bigger. It wasn’t long before Marco roared and shot thick, gloopy cum over Joel’s face. Joel collapsed spent and stared up at the God. “Are you free this evening?” he panted? Marco just laughed cruelly and took a long piss just feet away from where Joel lay. “Not for you, nerd” he scorned before tucking his bulge back in his sweatpants and walking away. Joel just lay their in the cum in a daze – why did he always fall for the big douche men, why couldn’t he find a nice guy – like that Donnie guy who always comes in. Thinking of which, he hadn’t seen Donnie in a few days now… *** The two brothers stare at each other in the kitchen. Both have changed so much they start to look unrecognisable. Marco’s stubble has pushed out into a goatee as his bodybuilder sized bronzed mahogany body ripples. He once again stands over Donnie, who looks significantly older than his bro now – lines across his face as a moustache bristles over a heavily stubbled chin. They are both stark naked – both cocks well over a foot long. In a brief moment when the fog has lifted Donnie stares at Marco with sadness and fear as he whispers “what did you do to us?”. He then gasps and clutches his round pecs as they inflate and grow bigger than his head, his bubble butt swelling out real thick as specks of grey appear in his dark hair. Thick dark hair not only covers his pecs, surrounding wide saucer sized nipples, but also his ass, shoulders and lower back. Abs push out, softened by the layer of paunch in top. Marco too feels his mind fading as his massive square pecs push out, obscuring his view of his feet. His lips swell as his eyebrows get thicker and untrimmed as his face aged up too – grey streaks through his thick dark chestnut hair. His brown nipples swell wide too, though nothing compared to Donnie’s tits. He plays with his smooth pecs and huge nipples as he feels his once younger little bro, step closer, breathing heavily. Marco moans as he feels Donnie’s hand encircle his heavy cock. Marco moans and nods in encouragement, maintaining intense eye contact with Donnie. Donnie lowers his eyes and starts to suck on Marco’s big brown dark nipples. His veins swell and flex as the taller man’s muscles expand even more, his height creeping up. His feet swell disproportionately large for his body, as do his hands, giving him an almost primal look. His cock spurts pre violently as it swells like a balloon, balls hanging lower. Donnie bites his lip and seductively turns round and bends over revealing what was once a tight pucker is now a throbbing, swollen donut ring of a hole between two hairy globes. Marco licks his lips… *** SOME WEEKS LATER ‘NastyPig’ was one of the most famous leather and kink clubs in the USA. Men of all sizes and tastes gathered from across the states to descend into debauchery, and tonight was a special night. On the raised stage was a banner with bright red letters encircled on a black background: “D&M”. Onto the wipe-clean stage strode two Gods of men. One, aged maybe mid 40s, was a 7 foot, ultra tanned, goateed muscle god. His shoulders so wide revealing a barrel chest with two brown nipples the size of dinner plates. A thick cock, at least two feet long, swung below his meaty thighs. The other man was mid-late 50s and was shorted but wider. He had a kind friendly face with a salt and pepper moustache. But the most remarkable thing about him were his colossal bouncing tits, with enormous nipples the size of dinner trays. A silver crucifix on him looked absurd on clearly such a pig of a man. Both men wore leather harnesses, and also glasses. It was an unorthodox choice for two such virile, masculine men, but their fans felt it gave them a unique look – like nerds gone butch. The two men on stage faced each other and started sensually making out, the taller one reaching round and unmistakably slipping a thick finger inside the other’s puffy hole. One musclebear leaned to the man next to him and whispered: “Y’know, I heard they’re secretly brothers?” Mr Diaz smirked and nodded as he watched the show escalate until the shorter man with the breast like pecs was on all fours, panting and moaning like a slut as the taller muscle man pushed his whole hand in his ass, right up to his elbow. “I know.”
  22. Nathan

    M UNIVERSITY (Part 12)

    Chapter 13: Justin's Superhuman Army Justin stands in front of University Z with his four Gods of Destruction, Bastia, Thomas and Suavez. He is standing on a pedestal in front of all the students. Justin: "FOR THOSE WHO DON'T KNOW ME, I AM THE MOST POWERFUL GOD THAT HAS EVER EXISTED. YOU CAN CALL ME LORD JUSTIN" He starts licking his biceps and stroking his abs. "SEEING THAT YOU ARE STILL WEAK PEOPLE, YOU WILL RECEIVE MY BLESSING, THANKS TO THIS YOU WILL BECOME SUPREME GODS". He sends a black beam over the crowd of students and there, an immense power invades them, the pectorals tear the t-shirts, the legs crack the ground, some students fly in the air, others masturbate, others still touching and kissing.... Thomas : " You finally have your divine army Justin" Justin: " NO! It's still missing! Xeram! Follow me!" Suddenly Justin flies into the air in the company of the dark angel Xeram, they cross the galaxies at astronomical speed to stop in front of a huge ship. Xeram: " what are we doing here?" Justin : " This spaceship is a prison, all the worst criminals and serial killers its prisoner, and they will receive my blessing." Xeram : " Alright and what do I do? " Justin : " With your demonic angelic power you stopped the defense ships flying around the flagship." Xeram swells his muscles and causes a black shock wave that comes to a dead stop on the defense vessels. The ships turn black and disintegrate. Justin when with him touches the flagship and sends the same black ray which comes to make all powerful the prisoners. As with the students, prisoners' muscles grow bigger and bigger, one prisoner pulls off the bars with no problem, another prisoner smothers three guards between his pecs, another prisoner shoves his dick up a guard's ass so hard his there shredded. The flagship is destroyed by this wave of power. After a few minutes the prisoners are made to Justin, they place their hand on their pectorals and shout "WE ARE AT YOUR ORDERS LORD JUSTIN". Justin smiles at his larger army and heads for his new objective. Justin and Xeram arrive at an abandoned castle. Justin : " Vampires lived there a long long time ago" As with the students and prisoners, Justin launches his black ray and suddenly an army of bodybuilder vampires appear, they bow down to Justin and shout "WE ARE AT YOUR BORDER LORD JUSTIN". His army grows even larger. Justin and Xeram's next stop is in a Coliseum, in the middle there are hundreds of gladiators who are already very muscular, training. as before, Justin throws his black ray and all the gladiators triple in volume, their is so immeasurable that the Colosseum is destroyed, the warriors turn to face Justin, they flex their biceps and shout "WE ARE AT YOUR BORDERS LORD JUSTIN". Justin's army grows even bigger After a few hours, Justin has gathered everyone on planet Nexus, they are in a ruined city under a red sky. Justin stands on a pedestal and begins his speech. JUSTIN: " LISTEN TO ME! THERE IS STILL A TRIBE MISSING TO COMPLETE OUR ARMY. I EXPLAIN TO YOU, THERE HAS BEEN A BLACK SECT FOR A LONG TIME BY THE NAME "LES CHEVALIERS DE L'OMBRE" UNFORTUNATELY THIS SECT WAS DESTROYED 1 YEAR AGO BY BASTIA, TODAY I WILL REANIMATE THEM AND MAKE THEM EVEN MORE POWERFUL THAN BEFORE" He casts his black ray again and thousands of bodybuilder and superpowered demons come out from the ground. Justin's army is complete The entire army bows down to the most powerful god and Justin shows an evil smile on his face To be continued.....
  23. BarbellWriter

    Maciste and the Muscle Demon

    Here’s an old story I pulled from the archives and recently updated I am working on a few ones. Happy to get comments back here or in PMs especially if you want to see more. I write about superheroes, peplum, magic, muscle growth & theft, & superhero fights & destruction. Btw I noticed the apostrophes and quotes changed to another character in the paste I’ll try to fix that next time. Maciste and the Muscle Demon Maciste after much effort disposed of the muscular warriors who were guarding the path to the cave that was the home to the demon. These guards would have been more than a match for any attacking force. Even the powerful Maciste had to struggle against them. They were men from the village who had been transformed into the demonÕs worshippers. Maciste did not harm the men, only knocked them unconscious. The women of the village had called Maciste to save their men from the demon. Several months ago the village miners had unearthed an ancient tomb deep inside the mountain. But it wasnÕt really a tomb. It was a jail for a demon whom the Ancients had encapsulated in stone there when the human race was young. Once released from his confinement, the demon slowly enslaved the men the village. The men abandoned their village, wives and their children, only to serve the sexual desires of the demon. The women had called upon Maciste to come and rescue their men from the enchantment. With the help of an old wizard, Maciste had obtained a magical, silver dagger with which he could kill the demon and vanquish him from the dimension of earth. As he reached the cave, he saw something in the brush next to the entrance. He paused to look. There was the body of a young man, but it was merely skin and bones on a body as if it had been starved of food. His eyes were still open and his hallowed cheeks and mouth frozen open as if he were still screaming. Maciste put his hands over the young manÕs eyes and closed them. ÒDonÕt worry, son, I will avenge you,Ó he said to the body and he entered the cave. Maciste walked slowly and surreptitiously through the cave hugging the stonewall looking for additional guards. At the end of the passageway, he came to the entry of a large hollowed room. There at the far end were torches on either side of a stone throne. In it sat the demon . ÒI know you are there, Maciste. Welcome,Ó he said. ÒCome closer so we can get a good look at each other. His hiding exposed, Maciste walked closer to the demon and came within 20 feet of him. He stared at the demon. The demon had the body of a tall, lean muscular man with broad shoulders and long dark wavy hair that reached his shoulders. His skin was light brown and he wore nothing but a small loincloth that barely covered his large member. ÒYou stare, Maciste. Do you like this human form that I have chosen? It suits my needs. But you are quite an impressive specimen of manhood yourself, Ó said the demon as he admired MacisteÕs larger and leaner muscular physique. The demon was hungry. “Enough of this,Ó Maciste shouted. ÒRelease these men of the village now from your spells, and I will not harm you!” The demon laughed at the demand. ÒI am sure you are quite formidable. But you are going to meet a challenger whom I think you will find most extraordinary. His name is Sarkus.Ó From the shadows off to the side of the stone throne, a blonde, bronzed man stepped into the torchlight. MacisteÕs eyes turned to the foe. He was the same height and build as Maciste, about 6’ 2” with broad bulbous shoulders that tapered to a 32- inch waist and etched abs. But he had about 20 pounds of more muscle than Maciste had on the same frame. Sarkus smiled confidently at Maciste and slowly raised his right arm and flexed. SarkusÕs right bicep rose and rose and rose. His arm peaked at 22 inches, almost two inches bigger than the village womenÕs hero. “Yes, you see Maciste. Sarkus was the strongest and largest warrior in this village until he joined me. And with the gifts I have bestowed on him, he is now the strongest man in the world! Oh, IÕm sorry. DidnÕt that used to be your title?Ó snickered the demon. ÒI have defeated larger opponents in the past,Ó Maciste answered confidently. ÒSarkus will be no different.” “Well then, Sarkus, why donÕt you dethrone Maciste from his title officially?” Sarkus strode toward the hero. Maciste pulled the magic dagger from its sheath in his belt and lunged toward his larger twin. He planned to push Sarkus aside and head toward to the demon himself. But Sarkus was fast for his size and he quickly stopped MacisteÕs advance. He grabbed MacisteÕs left arm that held dagger and then his right. The two muscle giants were locked hand to hand in a contest of pure strength. As each one pressed upon the other and seemed to gain an inch, his opponent pushed back and recovered the lost ground. The struggle went on and on. Sarkus focused his right grip, which was his stronger side, on MacisteÕs left wrist. His hand pressed like a vise attempting to force Maciste to drop the dagger. Maciste resisted but his wrist contained little direct muscular power to resist the powerful vise. Eventually his wrist gave way and the dagger fell from his hand whereupon Sarkus kicked it toward the edge of the darkness of the chamber. With the dropping of the weapon, Maciste was freer to force back SarkusÕs hand and once again the titans were locked in what seemed like an unending test of strength. “Surprised, Maciste?” taunted the demon. “Never felt this kind of power before, have you? I knew when I made SarkusÕs muscles larger, they would with my help become more powerful than yours!” Yes, Maciste was surprised. No man, no matter how large, had been able to match Maciste in power for this long. A small seed of doubt began to grow in MacisteÕs mind, and where there is doubt, there is weakness. In a battle of near equals, doubt can make a difference. As doubt began to swirl in MacisteÕs mind, the endurance of his powerful muscles began to weaken. As Sarkus pushed, Maciste could no longer recover the lost ground. Sarkus noticed this; his confidence grew and with confidence comes more strength into the body. That confidence made Sarkus push even harder than he ever had before, further weakening Maciste and pushing him back further and down. Maciste looked into the burning brown eyes of this opponent who was slowly overpowering him. Then in those eyes he saw the face of SarkusÕs wife calling Maciste to help her. “Sarkus, think of your wife and children,” Maciste said. Sarkus almost seemed to pause. That gave Maciste an opportunity. Using the force that Sarkus was himself applying, Maciste added his own and pulled both himself and Sarkus backwards. As MacisteÕs back hit the floor, he lifted his feet onto the washboard abdomen of his foe and propelled him backward with such a force that Sarkus was body slammed against the cavityÕs stonewall. His foe fell to the floor unconscious. Maciste leaped to his feet and faced the demon who rose from his chair and slowly approached him, clapping. Maciste needed to stall. He needed to find the dagger on the cave floor. His eyes scanned for it while trying to be watchful of the demon. “Very good, Maciste. You have lived up to your reputation.” The demon and the hero circled each other as they spoke. Unknown to Maciste, the demonÕ s breath contained a chemical that acted like a narcotic that weakened a humanÕs will. As he scanned for the dagger, Maciste decided to engage the demon. “Now release these men before itÕs too late,” Maciste threatened. Again the demon laughed. “Did you know, Maciste, that each one of these men joined me willingly? Yes, each one wanted to be manlier and more powerful, for their women, for their place in their village, for their work. So I gave them the strength and the physiques they dreamed about. As each one saw what I had given them, more came to me asking for the same thing! Their own lack of self worth turned them to me.” ”But you enchanted them. They rejected their wives, and left their families to become your slave.” Maciste ‘s tone was no longer angry like previously. He seemed to become calm as the demonÕs breath began to take effect on him. Then he spotted a flicker of light off the silver dagger on the floor. The two continued to circle each other as they talked but Maciste stopped when he reached the spot where he saw the flicker. “Ha! How little you know! These men asked for the physical gifts I gave them. In exchange, I asked for their love. They experienced an ecstasy with me that their wives could never provide them. Once they tasted my pleasure, no women could satisfy them again. From their love, I grew even more powerful.” ”You care nothing of these men, their village or their families,” Maciste said with conviction. His heart rate was slowing. “In fact, I care for and know them quiet well,” answered the demon. “I even know you, Maciste, better than you do. I know your character. Yes, you are good and true but I know what moves you?” “You know nothing about me.” Maciste began to feel lightheaded. His heart was no longer racing. He began to think about his timing. He needed to step back and reach for the dagger and plunge it into the demon but he needed to lull the demon into thinking he was not a threat. The demonÕs breath though was distracting his concentration. “Oh but I do. You see, your conviction, your courage, your confidence, your goodness, your steadfastness comes not from your inner nature. It comes from your strength, your looks and your body. Without them, your nature is just as weak as everyone elseÕs. I can enhance that body for you” Maciste stepped back and his left foot stepped on the blade of the dagger. He was not ready though. His mind was cloudy and relaxed and he listened to the demon further. “Let me show you. Curl your right arm for me and show me that beautiful manliness of your arm.” Now was the time for Maciste to reach for the dagger but he was confused and susceptible. He secretly enjoyed showing off his physique to the women he slept with and he wanted to show it off now. He did as the demon suggested and raise his arm showing off his 20 inch peaked tan bicep. “Yes, look at it Maciste.”Maciste stared at it. “Oh , it is so beautiful,” said the demon. “Now squeeze it a little harder and watch it!” As Maciste flexed more, he watched his bicep began to grow larger and larger till it was 23 inches. MacisteÕs eyes opened wide. “Yes, I have made it even more beautiful. Now kiss it.” Maciste continued to stare at his right gun and the veins and striations that ran across it. Never had it been that pumped. The demon gently touched the back of MacisteÕs head, pushing his face toward his bicep until MacisteÕs lips reached it and then hesitantly kissed it. “Yes, itÕs beautiful, isnÕt it?” the demon repeated. “Join me, Maciste, love me, and that bicep will be yours forever.” Maciste pondered those words as he continued to stare at his incredible masculine arm. Then from the place where Sarkus was lying, came a moan as Sarkus began to wake up, pressing himself off the floor with his inverted V triceps. Maciste turned his head toward Sarkus. That distraction was enough to break the mesmerizing moment for Maciste. He pushed the demon back and shouted “No. Never!” The demon was surprised but not alarmed. He stepped further back from his prey. “So Maciste. You have chosen. But as I said, who you are comes from that physique of yours. Without it, you are no hero, no moral guardian. You are no better nor more valorous than others, may be even weaker than most.” Maciste stood watching the demon as he spoke. His mind was so dazed, he did not know what to do though the dagger lay at his feet. “Where shall we start? LetÕs start with those arms of yours. Every man notices first another manÕs arm muscles. What if those arms suddenly shrunk and turned to flab?Ó Maciste looked at his right arm. Gone were the leanness, the veins, the bulbous delts, the defined biceps and triceps. Replaced with a mound of flab, straight and smooth and hanging off his arm. “No,” shouted Maciste. By now, Sarkus was standing behind the demon watching MacisteÕs transformation. “And how about those powerful legs of yours that propelled my Sarkus?” As the demon spoke, MacisteÕs defined muscular quads and calves muscles shrunk to bone and flab. “My legs!” He shouted as the demon laughed. ”Let’s turn that six pack into a bowl of jelly.” Our hero’s incredible abdominal armor flattened and disappeared into a small belly of fat. ”No, stop!” He reached and touched his now soft, cushiony stomach. ”And of course, those rounded striated pecs of yours.” His impressive domed pecs deflated and drooped. His once taunt nipples puffed out. His chest looked like old man bitch tits in need of a bra. “No, my chest! My power! My strength! What have you done to me! Give it back to me! Give it back!” he shouted. Maciste fell to his knees and he placed his hands on his now hanging man boobs. Whereas before he had felt his strong hard pec muscles, now he felt only softness like a womanÕs breast. That feeling was too much for him. “So Maciste, where is that confidence? Where is that goodness of yours? Where is that bravery?” The demon laughed. Sarkus smiled. Maciste then felt the dagger at his ankle. He reached down and grabbed it. He quickly jumped up and pointed the dagger at the demon, staring him in the eyes. “Stop, Maciste. If you strike me with that dagger, your present form will become permanent. You will never become the man you were.” Suddenly Maciste froze. Could the demonÕs words be true? Could he kill the demon but be trapped without his strength, power and physique? He had to kill him. He had to save the others. He must do it. He looked down at his fatty chest and his bulging belly. Maciste let go of the knife and it fell to the floor with a clang. He dropped his head to his chest and whispered, I will do what you want so long as you change me back.” The demon laughed. He picked up the dagger and handed it to Sarkus and said, “Destroy it..” Sarkus took the dagger into his hands and began to bend it, breaking it in two. The demon walked around Maciste as he spoke to him. “So our hero wasnÕt really the hero was he? Yes, it was easy before, wasnÕt it, Maciste? You were stronger than everyone, you were more powerful than everyone, you were handsome, you had that physique of yours that every man was jealous of and every woman loved. It was easy to be brave! It was easy to be righteous! It was easy to sacrifice and do the right thing! Because you never had to sacrifice, did you? But now with all that gone, itÕs hard, isnÕt it? In fact, for you, it was too hard. You couldnÕt do it without your power, your strength, your beauty. You were in fact all this time, weak inside. Weak where it counted. Not so wonderful and godlike as everyone thought!” Maciste head was bowed. His wide but now smoothed shoulders slumped forward. He realized all the demon said was true. It was easy for him to be good when he was so powerful. He could never fail. Tears began to well in his eyes. “I’ve agreed to do as you wish, now change me back,” whispered the broken former muscleman. “Give me back my strength,” he hesitated, “please..” ”Go into that room over there and sit on the floor,” said the demon pointing at an opening at the far end of the chamber. “Wait for me there!” he ordered. Two other muscular henchmen escorted Maciste out the large chamber. The demon turned toward the room and Sarkus grabbed his sinewy arm. “ Master,” he said, “please give him to me. Let me have him.” “No,” he replied, grabbing SarkusÕs arm and quickly removing it from his. “His power and strength are enormous. Unlike any I have felt before. I must have it for myself. I do not have much time. I found a weakness in his mind and my little transformation trick will not last long. I must move quickly before he realizes he lost his size but not his great strength.” Maciste entered the room and sat down on the black bear skin rug that covered the stone floor. As he sat, he looked down at his chest. There hung two sacks of fat looking like udders where his massive tight rounded pecs once were. He began to weep. He thought as soon as his strength was restored, he would crush the demonÕs head with it. But he needed to cooperate with the demon for his plan to work. The demon entered the small room alone and stood in front of the weeping Maciste.”So Maciste, do you miss your power? Do you miss your muscles?” “Yes, “ the once confident hero whimpered. “I want them back. I need them. What do you want from me?” ”If I give them back, will you promise to keave this area and never come back?” ”Yes, I will do as you wish,” said the defeated hero. “ I will restore them then But during the spell you must give yourself utterly to me. With all your will and with all your heart. ” I donÕt know if I can,” he said. “You must if you want the magic to change you back. Or do you prefer a chest like this?” And the demon took his hands and lifted each sagging pecs of Maciste and let them fall back onto the warriorÕs chest. Maciste wiped the tears from his face. He knew he had no choice. “.I'll try as you wish.” And his chin sunk lower onto this chest, hoping his moment for revenge would come soon. ”First, you must drink.” The demon knelt in front of the hero and began to massage his own powerful left pec. Maciste raised his head and watched. As the demon pressed into the pec, the pec began to swell. It quickly became bloated and the nipple, once tight, was now puffy. The demon lifted the tumescent chest muscle with his left hand, leaned toward Maciste and with his right hand behind the heroÕs head brought MacisteÕs mouth to the demonÕs nipple and said, “Now drink this milk from me.” Reluctantly, Maciste began to suck as commanded. The milk was both sweet and sour, neither foul nor refreshing. The demonÕs head and eyes looked toward the ceiling as he enjoyed the heroÕs mouth on his areola. Maciste drank until the pec was no longer inflated and had returned to its original shape. ”Now onto your hands and knees, Maciste,”ordered the demon. The warrior complied. Maciste looked down and saw his pecs hanging off his chest with his nipples pointing to the rug like small udders. His pecs no longer grew like cliffs from his sternum. More tears flowed into his eyes. “I must do this,” he angrily said to himself. “I must get my body back and then I will take care of this demon.” Though he was angry, he began to feel a sense of calm, not realizing the DemonÕs pec milk was having a soothing effect on him. The demon ripped MacisteÕs loincloth from him and the warrior was now totally naked. The demon knelt beside MacisteÕs torso and rubbed his hands together. As he rubbed, his pores began to open up and secreted a special whitish oil. The demon began to massage the oil into the warriorÕs smooth back and shoulders. As the demon rubbed, the warriorÕs delts, lats, traps and rhomboids began to grow and reappear. The oil and the rubbing created a warming sensation in Maciste. As the demon rubbed, the warming sensation had a further soothing effect on the warrior. His mind began to feel at ease and adrift either from the warmth or the demon milk or both. Maciste did not know which, but more important, he did not care. He tried to stay angry but began to yearn for the stress relief it provided. That comfort gradually led to feelings of pleasure. He began to enjoy the massage the demon was giving him. The demon extended the massage to the heroÕs sagging glutes. The fattiness of his glutes began to melt away and was replaced with hard firming muscle. He could feel his back and glute muscles growing and tightening. “Yes,” he said to himself, “ My power will be back soon, and I will slay this devil.” Soon his buttocks were muscular and round like they were before. Maciste knew his strength must be returning. These feelings of warmth, pleasure and strength began to spread down his legs and to his arms and chest from his back and butt. More skin and fat retreated across his body, and he could see his chest filling again with muscle. A battle of anger against the demon and the pleasurable feelings battled in his mind and his thoughts flowed back and forth between the two. “How are you feeling, Maciste. Do you want more muscle back?”asked the demon. “Yes,yes” he said, “more.” The demon began to massage the warriorÕs legs and arms and to work the palm secretions into the warriorÕs butt hole. This was a sensation the strongman had never felt before for no man had entered there. A corner of his mind resisted but other parts said no, he must allow it to regain his strength and get his revenge. By now, MacisteÕs mind was entering a daze. All he felt was pleasure. His anger faded even more into a mental whisper. He could see and feel his muscles returning. He lifted his hand off the floor to touch his right pec to feel the hardness and his pec cliffs returning. He thought it was almost time to turn on the demon, but the pleasure was so overwhelming and calming. He paused and thought he must wait till he knew his strength was fully restored. Besides surely the pleasure would subside by then. His member began to swell. “Now, Maciste, it is time to complete your transformation back,” smiled the demon. The demon removed his own loincloth to reveal an organ unlike any human maleÕs. It was long, covered with large pores with smooth but hard edges that encircled the shaft. The demon began to rub it and it swelled to over 12 inches quickly. A black gel began to ooze from the pores on the head and sides once it stiffened. The demon inserted his organ into the dazed strongman. Maciste winced and cried, “Agggh” for nothing had entered butt hole before. There was pain but the gel though smoothed that away. As the demon began to pump the strongman , the secretions eased the rubbing and surged into MacisteÕs body. Volumes and volumes were released with each breeding thrust so much so that Maciste muscled belly began to distend like a time lapsed pregnancy. The black ooze travelled everywhere, to every muscle and to his brain. With each thrust, the demonÕs member vibrated, flooding new sensations into the warriorÕs mind. MacisteÕs member quickly engorged and grew stiff. “Now say it, Maciste, say ‘I am yours, master,’” said the demon. “Agree to give yourself to me.” Even with the pleasure overflowing his mind, Maciste hesitated. The hero though then looked at his arms and as the demon pumped. He admired his muscular beauty. His muscle and vascularity had returned. His member was now taller and tighter than it had ever been. A small voice in his head said he must turn and attack now. “Now say it, Maciste. Say ‘I am yours, master,’” ordered the demon as the pounding sent waves of euphoria through MacisteÕs brain and further filling the heroÕs enlarged belly with more magical ooze. “I, I” Maciste repeated, but his mind was full of conflicting voices and still resisted. The secretions from the demon were transforming not only his body but his mind as well. His anger was gone and his warriorÕs will was weakening. “Now say it. Feel the hardness of your muscles, Maciste. You know you want them. Say you are mine. Otherwise your strength will be lost forever and you will lose the physique that I have returned to you. SAY IT!” His anger growing with impatience. “This is taking too long,” thought the demon. As the thrusts continued, the highs and lows of the euphoria leveled out. Maciste entered a dream state of bliss. He hardly noticed the thrusting anymore and could barely hear the demonÕs voice which sounded faint and muffled in the new state his mind was in. He lifted his left arm and moved his hand across his chest crevice resting it on his right pec. He looked down at it. It felt hard and it showed striations as he flexed it. Touching his hard muscle magnified the pleasure feelings even more. His finger grazed his right nipple and a spike of orgasm flooded his brain. His member began to ache for release. “Do you want your muscles or not?” shouted the demon as he pressed faster and harder into the restored muscleman. “SAY it!” the demon shouted again. Maciste looked again at his restored chest keeping his hand pressing against his hard muscle. Inside his brain, a faint voice called to what remained of his willpower, “Turn now and strike him” a faint voice whispered in his head. As he began to turn his torso and arm toward the demon, his voice whispered “I am yours, master.” Maciste then climaxed with such force that he was close to fainting. His seed shot copiously onto the rug. “Yes!” shouted the demon as he looked toward the caveÕs ceiling in victory. “Give me your power!” he called out hitting his fists on his chest as he continued to breed the muscleman whose belly was so distended full of the demon’s black cum. The demon then climaxed. The spell was now complete. Just then MacisteÕs body began to shutter. Every muscle that had been restored quivered. The body of the demon also began to quiver. Then it was if a vacuum had started inside the warriorÕs body. His muscles began to shrink and shrink. Meanwhile the demonÕs physique began to grow and grow. Larger and ever more muscular, and the demon shouted “Yes, yes, give me all of it!” As the demon withdrew from the hero. MacisteÕs body collapsed face forward onto the floor. There lay a tall, broad shouldered man of only skin and bones like the desiccated male body the hero had found outside the caveÕs entrance. All his muscle stripped from him. The demon raised his arms in a double bicep pose and stared at them. They were larger than ever before! Larger than any man had ever seen. Full of strength and might. Now the power of Maciste had become his.
  24. tegalus

    Kyle, the bully God

    Commissioned from SaltyCat56 on FurAffinity It was his first 10k Story and first Commission https://www.furaffinity.net/user/saltycat56/ A thanky to @Kymuscleboy for helping with the Tags . All characters are +18 Kyle eagerly walked down to the science lab, pushing aside any nerds and bitches that got in his way. Normally he'd be down in the cafeteria shaking people down of any food with protein in it, but he had skipped lunch in order to talk a bunch of nerds about making a machine that could make his brains match his brawn, something he needed in order to pass his classes and not be held back a year. He'd threatened the nerds a week ago that he would steal their girlfriends if they didn't have the machine ready by Monday lunch, assuming any of them could get girlfriends in the first place. When he reached the science lab, he barged in with barely any effort. The pathetic nerds jumped at his presence, working on something with two chambers big enough to put groups of people in. Kyle walked up to the machine, using his tail like a whip to firmly smack the ass of a nerd burying their head into a book. Their fault for having their back turned to their better. He eyed up the machine, unsure of what he was looking at. He used his tail again, this time wrapping it around a frail-looking nerd like a lasso and pulling him closer, pressing him to his bulky, muscled body. To the poor nerd it probably felt like he was being pushed up against a wall. "Hey Nerd, the fuck am I looking at?" Kyle asked while looking down at him, the nerd in question at eye level with his nipples. He stammered before finally answering the question. "Ba-basically, it's, uh, a conversion chamber. One steps into the intelligence donor chamber and the person in the intelligence recipient will inherit the intelligence being donated." The nerd squeaked out, surprisingly not speaking in annoying science lingo. "Al-fuckin-right then! Who's volunteering to help me pass my college level math class?" Kyle shouted eagerly. He started to get annoyed though when no nerds volunteered and the one he pulled close to him spoke up. "W-well, actually, we think their might be some negative neuropsychological ramifications for the donor, not to mention unwanted-" was all the nerd got out before being given a wedgie by Kyle, yelping as he dangled a solid foot off the ground before being swung in the direction of one of the chambers. "That right there's the donor chamber, right?" Kyle asked demandingly. The nerd nodded. "Y-yes Kyle!" The wedgie got more intense. "I think ya meant to say 'yes, sir', bitch boy." Kyle corrected the pathetic nerd. "Y-yes, s-sir!" The nerd desperately yelled out before being shoved into the donor chamber. The nerd desperately adjusted his junk as Kyle pulled another nerd up to the machine. "Run the machine and no funny shit or I'm beating down all of y'all!" Kyle demanded as he stepped into the other chamber. The other nerd complied as he started up the machine. The doors locked by the time the first nerd managed to readjust himself and tried to get out. He pounded on the chamber door, pleading to be let out as the machine started to work on the intelligence transfer. The nerd's pleading and pounding grew quieter until nothing. After about a minute, the machine rang and the doors unlocked. Kyle stepped out of his chamber a bit bigger than he used to but he hadn't seemed to have noticed. He looked around at the other five nerds in the room, all of them looking at him. "Alright, someone get me a trigonometry book, that shit was the worst for me." He ordered before noticing that he was a bit taller than before, by about half an inch. Another nerd handed Kyle a trigonometry book and he started to skim through it. Some concepts that were hard for him to process before were now relatively quick and simple for him to understand. Kyle chuckled in delight as he started to think of what he could do with this machine. He opened up the donor chamber to see the nerd he shoved in now being more meek than he was before. The nerd crawled out as if he had neither the muscle nor the brain capacity to walk, collapsing face-first onto Kyle's sneaker. Kyle looked down at the emaciated weakling as the once nerd looked up and had a look in his eye akin to a dog acknowledging its owner before it started licking at Kyle's sneaker. "The hell happened to him?" Kyle asked, pointing down to the pathetic husk at his feet, noticing he was short a nerd but didn't say anything about it. "Well, it had to do with the negative neuropsychological side effects he was talking about earlier." A nerd started explaining. "More or less, it completely drained him of the intelligence necessary for many basic functions. I think it's safe to say he's incapable of much speech or critical thinking. However, this seems to have impacted physicality as well. It ended up not just donating intelligence but also muscle mass. If you haven't already noticed, you came out just slightly bigger than when you came in." By the time the nerd pointed that out, the one missing nerd returned with a full body mirror, probably getting it from the theater class. As the other nerd put the full body mirror in front of him, he noticed his body was a bit bulkier. Probably about 5 pounds of muscle mass had been added to his already muscular body. He couldn't help but flex and groan in satisfaction with the results. Especially looking down to see the husk of his donor still practically worshiping his feet. But he clearly wasn't done just yet. Hegrabbed the nerd who explained the situation to him, pulling him into a headlock. "So what do you think would happen if I sapped all of y'all of everything? Would I be able to improve the machine?" Kyle asked sadistically, looking down at the nerd with a wicked smirk. He pathetically tried to squirm free to no avail, Kyle’s bicep squeezing down on his neck as he started rounding up all the other ones before they could even think of leaving. The nerd would just struggle even harder before being shoved into the donor chamber along with all the other nerds, Kyle forcing the door shut on them. "Only one way to find out then, would be my guess." Kyle said nonchalantly as the nerds pounded on the door while letting out pathetic pleas. Kyle proceeded to pick the nerd husk off the ground, away from his feet, and got the former nerd to sit in the teacher's chair which he pulled in front of the control console. "Start the machine when I go into the other chamber, understand?" Kyle instructed the husk very slowly, unsure admittedly of its capacity to understand, let alone its ability to turn on the machine. The husk nodded in response, looking up at Kyle. "Yes master." The husk responded slowly and almost absent-mindedly. Hearing the husk refer to him like that was a bit of a turn on as he stepped into the other chamber, feeling a bit more confident about his decision. As the door closed behind Kyle, the machine started up once again. This time Kyle ended up feeling a massive amount of pressure while in the chamber. Enough to make it painful but only for a short while. It actually got him a bit hard after a few seconds. When the machine rang once again, Kyle had to squeeze his way out. His muscles were definitely bulking up, a few veins now visible on his biceps. When he went to observe himself in the full body mirror, not only had his body almost outgrown all of his clothes, all of it barely able to contain his massive body to the point to where just flexing along could probably rip the clothes off, but his noggin also grew, not close to how his body grew but enough to be noticeable, especially a small, visible vein on the left side of his forehead. He opened up the donor chamber to see all the other former nerds pathetically fumble out of the chamber, all of them mindlessly clamoring around Kyle to worship him, kissing his sneakers and hugging onto his muscular legs, one of them getting a visible hard on as he kissed the tip of Kyle's sneaker. He chuckled before snapping his fingers twice, making them all stop and sit like dogs, all of them looking up at Kyle. He then flexed his massive body, the clothes around him ripping as exposing some of his body, veins forming on his biceps and pecs, bouncing them to entice the husks beneath him, all of their puny dicks twitching as they looked on in awe of their alpha. "You puny bitches like what you see?" Kyle asked his new slaves teasingly, fully knowing what their answer would be but wanted to hear it anyway. They all nodded, some drooling, one letting out a pathetically horny whimper. Of course they loved it, it was in their nature as dull-brained squirms to admire their better. He slowly stripped down to his jock to entice his new slaves to make them more susceptible to his will. Small visible veins were scattered throughout his muscular body. "You pathetic horn dogs want your master bigger and smarter? Go get more people for me to drain while I work on improving this little toy you dumbasses made. Y’all couldn’t even get this thing to maximum efficiency, but I bet I can now. Go." Kyle ordered all the husks cowering beneath his towering body, which was only emphasized when compared to their small, puny frames, so thin you could practically see their skeletal structure. They nodded as they scrambled up to their feet and started shambling out of the classroom. Kyle playfully tail whipped the last husk to leave before grabbing some of the nearby tools and getting to work on improving the haphazardly put together chamber, the task now easy for him to manage. A good few minutes passed by before some of the husks came back with some of their friends, just in time for Kyle to expand both the donor chamber and the recipient chamber. He’d also remade the recipient chamber out of sturdier metal so they could handle potential overgrowth from Kyle. He has also allied the interior of both chambers with multiple full body mirrors. Not only so he can watch himself grow and bulk up but also his victims could watch all their muscle mass be drained from them, hopefully learning their fate as they become more dull-brained husk slaves, now only living to serve their better. He had also created a remote activator so he could activate the machine from inside the recipient chamber. Kyle lassoed the soon to be victims, a group of 7, with his tail and wrangled them into the donor chamber. He slammed the donor chamber door shut, chuckling at the pathetic resistance of the people brought in. The best part of creating the remote activator was that Kyle could simply activate the machine himself and didn't have to rely on a husk to activate it and risk something going wrong. He activated the machine and felt a jolt of painful pleasure surging through his body. Now he also had the opportunity to see the progress in the mirrors. His muscles rapidly throbbing and writhing under his skin. Even his forehead started to do this as well, though it was harder to notice. Kyle groaned pleasurably as he watched his body expand once more. As the jolt started to subside, his muscles started to settle down but still ended up bigger than before, more veins visible on his body and the ones from before became more prominent, his biceps and thighs being most veiny. Another vein appeared on his forehead, this time on the right side. More husks to serve and worship Kyle, crawling out of the chamber, crawling to his feet. "More, bitches!" Kyle shouted demandingly before the new husks could even begin worshiping his body. He got tired of how long it took for them to scramble to their feet so he helped them up without intending to. By some force, the husks got quickly elevated to their feet. It took Kyle only a second to realize he did it with his mind. He chuckled as he toyed with one for a bit while the rest of the husks left to get more puny humans for the practical living God that Kyle was becoming. He used his telekinetic abilities to wiggle the meek husk around a bit before pulling the puny thing into the cleavage of his massive pecs. Chuckling as the pathetic husk groaned as he got pressed as much against Kyle as was possible. Effortlessly flexing his pecs to make it bounce against the husk, pushing its head further into his cleavage much to the husk's pleasure. Feeling a rush of pleasure too, the semi-hard on making the jockstrap make an audible rip, he decided to keep the husk around a bit while waiting for the rest to come back. "Worship your God's pecs, bitch!" Kyle demanded of the now horny husk, not that its puny dick was noticeable any more. The husk moaned as it caressed Kyle's pecs while he groaned and flexed more, admiring all the visible veins and muscle mass he accumulated. The pleasure amplified more as the husk wisely decided to start licking and sucking on his pecs, hitting Kyle's magic spot that completely gave him a hard on. "Oh yeah, just like that, slave bitch!" Kyle shouted eagerly as he pinned the husk to the wall with his towering body, now starting up a sweat from being in heat, his dick throbbing in between the husks legs, making it more clear to the husk that Kyle was his better, his dick now big enough for the husk to ride like a horse, especially now that it was fully hard. After just minutes of worshiping Kyle's pecs the husk apparently had already come, Kyle feeling a pathetic squirt that was mostly covered by the husk’s pants, but was still damp enough against Kyle's prominent 6-pack for Kyle to tell what happened. "Seriously, not only do you come to your new God without approval, but you let out such a pathetic fucking load?" Kyle asked disappointedly. Backing up from the wall but telepathically keeping the husk pinned to the wall, giving up on the idea of wearing any clothes by ripping off his jockstrap and kicking off his shoes, completely forgetting that he was building up foot stink for an eager to pay foot freak who he was meeting up after school. The freak would most likely be gathered up anyway so decided to forget about the whole arrangement. He forced the husk to his knees, Kyle's massive, throbbing cock in front of his face. "Suck, bitch!" Kyle shouted in a horny fit as he practically pushed his dick against the husk's face. The husk groaned as it started to suck Kyle off. Kyle groaned in pleasure as his dick throbbed and hardened more. He was very tempted to just skull fuck the puny husk, using it's body like a fleshlight but he decided to spare the pathetic thing from potentially being completely broken. After all he didn't quite want to break his toy, as now its only purpose was to serve him anyway. The husk started to get past the tip of Kyle's dick, groaning as it throbbed against its mouth. Kyle started to sweat more as he used his telekinesis to get the husk to fully deepthroat from the husk, the husk's body flinching as a reaction to being penetrated from Kyle's girth. As he started to thrust his dick inside the husk's mouth, apparently more people clamored into the science lab. Kyle turned towards them while he fucked the husk but was a bit confused when he saw that they weren't brought in by the other husks that he sent out. It wasn't until he noticed some flustered faces and tents in guy's pants that he figured that his body was emitting intense pheromones, apparently making everyone nearby mindlessly horny for Kyle. It was practically a form of hypnosis. He grinned deviously as he saw the gym coach among the growing crowd, along with some of the gym kids, getting an idea to take the steroids that they were taking, an unspoken thing in this school. "Hey, gym bitches, gimme your steroids!" Kyle shouted to them. They left, presumably to get them from their lockers. Kyle started to get close, almost forgetting about the lucky husk below him. He panted and groaned as he grabbed the head of the husk, deciding to skull fuck the husk anyway, as the husk wasn't doing enough to get him fully off. He played gently through, trying not to break the puny, pathetic fucker. He got his dick as far into the husk's mouth before finally coming, panting heavily. Just in time for the gym bitches to come back with their steroid doses, all of them using pill forms. The husk had to retract his body and gag out about two gallons worth of load onto the floor. Kyle looks down at the pathetic thing, raising one of his feet and pushing it down on the husk's body, pushing it into the pile of load onto the floor. "Lick it all up, dick taster." Kyle ordered, taking the steroids afterwards. Taking a large dose but not enough to induce an overdose. Even though at his size, he could probably take all of them, he didn't want to take the risk. He then used his telekinetic abilities to stuff as many people into the donor chamber as possible. Stepping down a bit more on the husk as it licked his load off the floor before walking off toward the recipient chamber, his dick still dripping a bit. He got into the chamber after cramming in about 20 people into the donor chamber, looking back to see everyone at the school now clamoring around the classroom. He grinned as he closed the donor chamber and stepped into the other chamber, closing it behind him and turning it on. The jolt is now really intense, making Kyle fall to his knees. Panting as he felt the muscles writhing, expanding and contracting under his skin. It expanded more rapidly as he groaned in a mixture of absolute pain and absolute pleasure. Not only were his muscles expanding, but his brain was well, his head swelling in the multiple reflections in the chamber. His head flooded with an immense amount of knowledge and comprehension. He figured if he used up the entire school, he could dominate and drain the world with ease. His nails scratching the floor of the chamber as he endured the pain, all worth it for practical God-hood. The chamber rang, giving Kyle an indication that it was over. He slowly got up, the floor of the chamber creaking a bit under his weight. He opened the door and slowly squeezed himself out of the chamber. He had to bend the door frame a bit just to get his broad, veiny shoulders fully out. He eventually managed to pop himself out. He sized himself up, noticing that he was now at least a foot taller than he last was. His pecs were so big now, he can't look down enough to see much of his torso. He noticed his biceps were about half covered in veins, mostly covered when he flexed them. He groaned in absolute delight, flexing before his horny, soon to be slaves. "You bitches and bitch boys love what you see~? Wanna see your new God get even bigger and brighter~?" Kyle asked his crowd teasingly. Flexing as a way to maximize his pheromone output. Sweat glistened across his whole, muscled-up body. The sunlight from the window poked in and bounced off the beads of sweat in a way that would make him look like the living, breathing God he knew he would become in a matter of days. What the final results would be according to Kyle's calculations, would make the muscular Gods of myth look like pathetic, tiny twinks compared to him. It seemed like the show was enough to get the crowd eager to give themselves to Kyle, even after seeing the aftermath of donating their muscle and mind to him as the 20 husks crawled out of the donor chamber. The crowd cheered and gathered around the donor chamber, already getting in, already knowing the process and eager to give themselves to him. Kyle chuckled as he squeezed himself back into the recipient chamber. After hearing the donor chamber close, he closed the recipient chamber and turned it back on. There was less pain and more pleasure this time, his body now getting used to the process. He groaned as his body grew once more as he watched in the mirrors. His pecs now sprinkled with veins along with the rest of his body and even his head, his head getting bigger, by centimeters with each series of processes. Each time the machine rang, people helped the husks vacate so they could get into the donor chamber, Kyle not even bothering to leave the chamber. Though eventually he had too, each expansion making the chamber creak and groan more and more around him. He had to start crouching just to try to buy the chamber more time. Around the 6th process, the chamber was too tight for comfort. With a tired and slightly frustrated grunt he stood up and flexed, destroying the chamber the same way a baby bird breaks out of an egg. The crowd looked on in awe, about 1/10th of the school now turned into husks. He towered over the crowd, his head now grazing the ceiling of the classroom. He didn't quite know if the gym would be able to properly accommodate his projected size if his calculations were correct, which was most likely. He weighed the odds in his head, the veins getting more prominent as he thought about it. Ultimately, it didn't matter much was his conclusion. He stomped past the clamored group in the science lab, uncaring of those he knocked down with his feet and even stepped on. He effortlessly tore down the wall, scooting the debris aside with his feet to make a clearer way "Alright, you lot, I want that machine moved to the gym in the next hour! If it's not there by…" He quickly glances down the hall to see that it's 2:52 in the afternoon. "3:45, I'll charge you all to be my servants and it'll cost y'all EVERY CENT you do and don't have!" He chuckled as he walked down the hallway towards the gym. The ground shook slightly with each step, every door frame along the way breaking like Styrofoam. He could have moved the machine himself but he wanted to see how much these dopes were committed to the whole arrangement. After a few minutes he burst into the gym, or at least, that's what it may have looked like to a puny person. For Kyle, he just casually walked in, not even bothering to try to open the doors. Waste of effort and energy when his body could simply break anything that got in the way. He reclined in the bleachers in his usual spot, the bleachers creaking a bit under him. He reclined and relaxed though. He thought about the chances of them actually bringing the machine on time. He side-eyed the clock over on top of the basketball scoreboard. 3 on the dot. While it would be impressive if they did bring it on time, he knew they realistically wouldn't. The machine would be difficult to get on a trolley and they would have to carefully maneuver it down the hall even if they did find enough trolleys that could handle all that weight. He mostly now contemplated on how to degrade them as he had to probably do the work for them. Maybe chew out the roided-up lifters for being weak betas while also making them cling to his arm to feel what true muscle felt like. He dismissed the latter half of the idea. Bit too…"dad literally picking up kids from school" vibes. Though he did like the idea of them all referring to him as "daddy", make them look and even feel more puny and pathetic along the way. Time passed by until the clock struck 3:45 and just as he thought, no machine in the gym yet. He got up, letting out a groan of expectancy mixed with disappointment and walked his way back to the science lab. The more muscular people were trying to nudge the machine up a small ramp onto a trolley that was made of a bunch of smaller trolleys put together by duct and scotch tape. Honestly, pretty pathetic that they haven't even started moving it down the halls yet. Even back at his smaller size, he would've had the machine on the trolley about half an hour ago. He whistled loudly, getting everyone's attention. "Y'all seriously haven't even gotten this thing rolling yet?" He asked, not really expecting a response as he approached the machine. He made sure to tower over all of the gym bros as he casually held the machine under his arm and pressed to his side like you would hold a basketball. He caught quick glances of the wannabe bodybuilders. One of annoyance, most impressed and awe-inspired, some got visibly turned on. "Fucking pathetic." He said dismissively, walking down the hall with the machine, making sure to tail whip the dissatisfied guy in the crotch. Kyle heard him groan and buckle down onto the ground, not even paying much attention. His dick was gonna have no value to it soon anyway, assuming it had any to begin with. The crowd followed him down the hall, still hooked on his pheromones. "Since it's past 3:45 and you dumbasses couldn't even get the machine into the hallway, y'all are getting the locker cramming treatment once I make adjustments to the machine. Y'all still owe me ALL of your money, by the way. I expect all of your wallets with your bank information in them, including your accounting and routing numbers." He remarked to the crowd as he walked to the gym. He noticed some of them getting on their cell phones and some walking into classrooms they would pass by, probably to get papers and pens. Upon getting into the gym, he gently set down the machine and started making modifications, making the donor chamber bigger as well as making a brand new recipient chamber from scratch and hopefully big enough to endure draining the whole school. As he did this, he telepathically made nearby plastic bins float around people. "Wallets in the bins, people. Don't have your wallets, strip down to your birthday suits so everyone knows you for being a broke loser." He shouted to ensure everyone could hear him. He tinkered with the machine as if this marvel of medical technology was nothing more than a Lego set to him. By the time he was finished, everyone had already deposited their wallets into the plastic bins, except about a sixth of the crowd who were completely naked. "Alright, since there were more broke bitches than I thought, paying customers, front of the line, birthday suits, go to the back of the line and crawl on all fours like the useless mutts you are!" He announced before all of the students and staff got into their places, chuckling as he grabbed a group of six puny humans with ease while watching the wave of ass cheeks flood to the back of the line. He forcibly cramed the worthless people into his machine, not even bothering to make sure there was much room for them to move. He slammed the door shut before stepping into the donor chamber, having shoved about 40 or more people in. He closed the door and looked up at the mirrors he installed after taking them from the locker rooms. His muscles practically bulged under his skin which developed stretch marks. He smirked and flexed, seeing more veins appear on his body. An already perfect body that would have professional bodybuilders revere and worship every prominent vein, knowing they could never obtain what he did with ease. He turned on the machine that he also had to rebuild to account for his size. A familiar but welcoming jolt of pain and pleasure courses through him, making him harder than any partner in lingerie could. He buckled down as if to bow before his new body, even more perfect and godly than what he has now. Writhing, stretching and tearing, practically bubbling under the skin would be the best way to describe this transformation into the next stage of evolution. A being of absolute perfection that everyone, every being, was born to worship. He chuckled as he just now noticed that his ego was growing along with the mind and body. Who cared though? He deserved this, to become the most perfect God in all of myth. Everyone and everything only had a fraction of value compared to just one of his stretch marks. Little pissants whose only value was in giving themselves to his might and worship. Once the machine rang, steam had fogged up the mirrors, his body in intense heat. He opened the door and wiped the fog off the nearest mirror, his forehead now having five visible veins on it, not including any that would be covered up by his hair, his forehead almost 1.5 times its usual size. Getting hard from the absolute monster he had become now compared to how he was mere hours ago. And got harder upon realizing this was just the beginning for him. He stomped out of the chamber, the floor creaking from his admittedly overly eager showcasing to the others. He even left a foot indentation on the gym floor, the same way as you would by walking barefoot through mud. Enjoying the brief "crunch" sound under his weight. He then started briefly showing off his body, flexing and bouncing his pecs as well as letting out a loud, dominant growl. "You want more from this muscle God~?! Lemme hear how much y'all want more!" He shouted into the crowd before getting the shouts and applause he wanted. Of course these bugs wanted more, that's their whole purpose. Even pheromones wouldn't drive up this much enthusiasm, this was something more. This was more than bee-like pheromones that make workers serve a queen. This was absolute divinity they were witnessing. A true God of muscle and might appearing before their puny, fragile bodies. He walked up to the donor chamber and telepathically scooped out the husks before replacing them with more people than last time, still wanting to experience that jolt of growth and pleasure. Scooping people up with his muscular arms and practically tossing them in haphazardly. Once it got to absolute maximum capacity, he stepped into the recipient chamber once more and flipped on the switch after closing the door behind him. This process would continue for a few rounds before he got to the broke crowd, towering before them like a titanic mass of muscle and musk, the constant growth making his body sweat with each process. He tried to look down at them but his pecs became so big it impacted his ability to look down effectively. Still able to see the tips of his toes but nothing beyond that. He looked down at them, thinking about the best way to degrade them further for a second. "Bark if you dogs think you're worth serving me." He spoke, stalling a bit for time. A good chunk of the crowd barked, only a few barking continuously. He brought up a foot and dropped it down on one of the barkers, silencing all the ones who did bark, except the one under his foot who let out a grunt like someone who accidentally dropped the bar on his chest during bench presses. "The few who didn't bark were smart. None of you broke bitches are worthy of even licking the beads of sweat off my balls, let alone serving me truly." He corrected the dogs, instinctively looking down to check on the dog under his foot to see the guy's head poking out from under his heel. Still seemed fine so he playfully grinded his foot on top of the dog's back as the rest looked pitifully up at him. He pressed the foot down further before finally letting off and backing off to look down at the runt, his back coated in dirt and sweat. "As one of the dogs who barked, foot rug, it's up to you to beg me to forgive the rest of them for their arrogance~" Kyle chuckled at the demand, intrigued to see how the foot rug of a man would beg. He had already forgave them like the merciful God he is, but still wanted to see at least one of them grovel before draining them. The man slumbered into a low bow while still on his knees. "Please forgive us, our walking God." The man started pleading, to Kyle's delight. "We were just so eager to serve, we forgot our place and why we were the last in the school to give our whole selves to you, master. Please, I will serve as a rug for you to wipe the dirt off your feet on, I will lick up every bead of sweat off your balls like it's the savory liquor of the Gods. Just please, let us serve, master." The begging and bargaining was so pathetic and submissive, it made Kyle's dick twitch a bit. Either this guy was a submissive little bitch with plenty of begging experience or they really have started seeing him as a type of God. Amusing him to make him chuckle a bit at the idea of "Kyleism" soon becoming the religion of the planet soon. But a devious idea of completely absorbing all of these broke bitches entered his mind and it leaked out into a wicked smile. "Alright, since you begged so well, I've forgiven you dogs like the benevolent God I am. However, such arrogance doesn't come without consequence. Give me a few minutes to make some adjustments to the machine and you will get what you deserve and seek~" Kyle spoke to the crowd before turning his back to them, letting down his hefty tail onto the back of the groveling dog. It crushed the puny human with a loud grunt and maybe a soft crack. He didn't even flinch at the sound. They would obtain a great fate anyhow. Kyle grabbed his tools and tinkered with the machine. Creating an "absolute absorption" feature that would completely absorb every single atom, molecular, microscopic and nanoscopic organism inside the donor chamber. Now these formally worthless people will finally put themselves to some use. Maybe if that one groveler was lucky, maybe his atoms would go to his feet or balls. Unfortunately for them, their consciousness would evaporate as there would be no mind or brain remaining to retain it. Some would probably relish the idea of being fused to his flesh, understandably so. Who wouldn't want to be a part of his perfect body? He soon finished mere minutes later, even installing the new mode to be an option on his remote via a dial. Wiping some sweat off his forehead, he looked back at the crowd of dogs, chuckling as he knew what would soon come of them. "Alright you worthless mutts, get the fuck in there where y'all belong~" he told the dogs as he started to stuff and shove then donor chamber, more an order of compliance than a statement. He made sure to save the groveller for last, cramming all the dogs in, to the point to where the metal would creak around them. He then wrapped his tail around the ankle and dangled the pathetic bug in front of him. Making it so that way the main thing that the puny insect sees is Kyle's dick and balls, Kyle's flaccid shaft half as big as the insect's body. His dick throbbed at the thought of what he was about to do next. "Now, what do you say, foot rug?" Kyle asked, looking down at the puny man, manipulating his tail to make the human's body sway while being dangled like a pendulum. "Th-thank you, master Kyle." Kyle chuckled and brought the human's face right up against the tip of his dìck. The human's head was actually a bit smaller than the head he was pressed up against. "Good, now kiss your God's dick like a good rug" Kyle ordered, his dick throbbing once more, bumping more into the human's face. The human would surprisingly hesitate before finally giving in to Kyle's order, his lips making contact with Kyle's urethra as much as it could. This made Kyle groan and get hard a bit. "Good little bitch. Don't be afraid to use your tongue while you're at it~." Kyle moaned while the human whimpered in a bit of disgust. Though maybe it might've been that one thing that bottoms do when they pretend like they don't like something when they clearly do. He didn't care whether the bitch boy actually liked it, it felt good to him and as far as this insect should be concerned, that would be the only thing that mattered. A few minutes would pass by, the bug disappointingly not using tongue at all. Kyle would use his tail to toss the man into the donor chamber before slamming the door on them. Chuckling as he set the machine to "absolute absorption" mode before stepping into the recipient chamber. Closing the door behind him, he turned on the machine, an instant shock overwhelming him. A feeling of an explosion pouring over his body as every inch of his body pulsed and throbbed rapidly. As if there was some resistance from where his strength and mind enhancement was coming from. Thoughts that were not his own appeared in his mind. Pleads and begs of the pathetic dogs flashing in and out of his mind as Kyle dropped to his knees, slamming his knuckle into the floor of the machine. "Shut up and accept your fates. Y'all know this is what you deserve. You should be grateful little bastards. Y'all get to be part of something bigger, better. You get to be a part of a God! Now submit as you were meant to and let yourselves be one with your God." Kyle shouted at the stream of other's consciousness flowing into him, mentally straining a bit for complete dominance. The veins on his forehead became more prominent as his head grew in size. The stream was losing strength as Kyle was shown moments of other's memories and knowledge flowing into him. His muscles bubbled under his scales as they stretched and expanded far more than the normal process. The knowledge of other people's lives converted to knowledge of all probable lifeforms in this universe and the next. Knowledge of all known languages. How to completely bend the minds and wills of all life to his will. He grimaced with knowledge of how to conquer all life in this universe. His body steamed and sweated profusely, fogging up the chamber and it creaked and groaned around him. His body kept expanding as Kyle mentally declared himself the king of this universe for all will submit to him! At this thought, he ended up bursting out of the chamber yet again. Each one acting as an egg for his proverbial rebirths. His body had stopped expanding by this point, good thing too as he noticed that he and his husks were standing in complete darkness, not even any light from the sun emerging from the windows. The big gym clock stopped at 8:56. The power most likely went out from all the electricity used to perform the absolute absorption mode. Kyle opened the donor chamber to see nothing in there. Not a single speck of dirt or dust in there from what little Kyle could see. He flexed his muscular body once more. All those puny little bitches now became nothing more than the muscles on his body. He got hard at the thought as he flexed. Admittedly wishing there was a way to keep them conscious so they could mentally worship him. Feel every flex of his muscles in what used to be their bodies. Feel every step from their God, get to enjoy the flow of blood into his dick which, when fully hardened, could easily tower over a whole person. Probably about 6 feet in length by now. It made him curious how it would feel to be remade into a sperm cell swimming in the balls of a God. He would probably obtain this knowledge later on during his conquest of the universe. But merely serving as part of his ever-expanding muscles was surely a fitting enough reward for a bunch of worthless bitches. He laid rest on the floor, not really caring if he crushed a husk to death under his body or not. Their lives were made to serve him, after all. Speaking of which, his dick throbbed as he telepathically lifted up the puny insects and pressed them to his towering body. "Worship and caress your God till he falls asleep. You all may sleep when I am fully asleep first." Kyle ordered the husks. They unreluctantly worshiped the muscled-up God. Kyle relaxed on the floor, resting his forearms behind his head with a bit of strain, all the muscles on his body making it a bit harder than usual. He relished in every action of his husks, from all the caressing and massaging down to each lick of his body. Some were worshiping his dick and balls, making it admittedly a bit difficult to fall asleep but eventually sleep came for the massive dragon as he was slowly lulled into slumber. Great visions of glory and God-hood would play out in Kyle's dreams. Him towering over Skyscrapers, his very knees piercing the clouds above. Him laying on a lavish chariot made of the planet's finest and studier materials and luxuries. Him gulping down a custom made glass of ocean water, "accidentally" consuming little specks that were once to him recognizable as humans without care or thought. Thousands crushed under a single step from the uncaring God as they would be absorbed into his body either way. Him sitting on the Earth reshaped into a throne, using the moon as a footrest. All alien life cowering as he absorbed them without any effort at all. The begging, whines, and pleads as he absorbs damn near everything with a pulse. Planets drained of all life repurposed into beads on lavish looking jewelry. All would be one with his glorious body and worship him! The dream, possibly a vision of things to come for him, would slowly fade as his eyelids slowly drew open. Instead of upon his throne, he was back laying on the floor of the gym. Still being worshiped by the insignificant bugs that he let bugs worship him. A thought would come to the awakening giant. He didn't need these insects or that puny machine they made for him. Through his telekinetic abilities, he could simply extract all beings his own damn self. Cut out the middleman and just drain them himself. He felt a pathetic insect dare to squirt over by his left armpit. Getting him to eventually acknowledge all the other insects that were still awake, still worshiping him. Annoyed with this particular insect he telepathically pulled the bug up to his face, his eyes tiredly looking up in disgust towards this insect. "Did you really just come on your God, while he was just waking up and without approval?" He asked the pathetic being that he now recognized as the first nerd he shoved into the machine. His puny, muscle depraved body was honestly not that different from how he looked 24 hours ago. Only difference now was the absence of clothes and glasses. He waited tediously long for the bitches response. "Master smell good…" was slowly sputtered by the pathetic thing as he still leaked, dripping down onto his lower lip. Kyle simply rolled his eyes before licking up the bit of seed that dripped onto his lip. Setting the bug down onto his chest. Of course these bugs couldn't help but to come to him. He was a living example of perfection. The whole flock of insects could come now and it wouldn't be more than a mere inconvenience. He groaned as he got up, the very gym shaking underneath him. What was left of the wooden floor beneath him anyway. Several indentations in the floor from where he walked and laid down. He walked to the exit of the gym, feeling at least a few of the husks cushion each step he took. He didn't even slow down or walk cautiously for them. If they didn't want to be stepped on, they would've gotten out of his way. By the time he got to the exit, at least 3 bugs got peeled off his godly feet. With barely any effort, he broke down the wall leading outside. This ended up being beneficial for the insects to follow him. They served no purpose without him so of course they followed their new God that they gave everything to. This flock of insects were cute but not nearly enough for a God. He walked out into the city with his goal already in mind. He needed all of humankind, no, ALL LIFE to submit to him. He walked into the more populated parts of the town. Leaving behind foot prints on whatever he walked on. Grass, concrete, cars, people who would not walk out of their God's way. Each step announcing his arrival to his servants like the bells and trumpets that were spoken of when the concept of a rapture got explored. His pheromones got caught on the wind and spread far and wide across the town. Like a skunk being run over, people could smell it for miles away but they were naturally drawn into the scent of a God. All who got a whiff, inevitably started to follow the scent and the stomping sounds made by their God. Many followed him throughout the downtown area. Some tried, and even succeeded, to cling onto their God. Most clung to his broad, muscular ankles, some clung onto his balls and shaft which were close to dragging across the floor. Some merely wished to kiss his feet or balls. The fools got trampled over, especially the ones trying to kiss the soles of his feet. Whatever spots weren't being covered by the mortals anyway. By the time he got to the center of the town, his feet were completely cushioned by both husks and humans. He looked out onto the crowd that followed him, thousands at minimum, ensuring him that there was not much difference between husk and man. They were all made to serve him after all. "ATTENTION ALL MY SERVANTS! YOU'RE GOD IS NOW HERE AND DEMANDS ALL OF YOU PRESENT!" He shouted into the air, his voice booming and far reaching. The message echoed across the town and even a few miles out further. He sat down on the roof of a nearby parking garage. An inadequate place for a God to sit but it was enough to sit and wait for his subjects to arrive. As he waited, his servants would bow to their new owner. This got a chuckle out of Kyle before he curiously looked at the sole of one of his feet. About 8 mortals were stuck to their God's foot. Actually upon closer look, they were clinging onto his foot. Not that it mattered much anyways. They should be thankful to serve their God in such a way, even if it was completely unwilling. Within an hour, all his servants appeared before him. Hundreds of thousands of indistinguishable insects looking up at their God in reverence. His pheromones had definitely spread far enough to get every one of them hooked to his powerful will and eager to serve. Seeing some cameras of various types pointing at him, he decided that he probably needed to perform…less casually, at the very least. He actually had not thought about what kind of God he was going to be when it came to addressing his servants. He always degraded, bullied and humiliated others back when he was mortal so might as well keep going with what was natural. He slowly stood up, indifferent to the crunching of bones underneath him from the servants basking in his glory. "As pathetic as this flock is, it surely will do for how you all may help your God. Your God is a powerful one as you all can see." He says before performatively flexing his body. The muscles and shadows being emphasized by the sun set above him like a spotlight. "But…this is not enough from your God. Your God has ambitions. Far higher than any of you puny insects ever could have. What you all need to know is that your God demands power. As much as possible, you will no longer need any. All y'all will need is to surrender yourselves to me and worship me. That shall be your lives purpose from now on. So I expect all of you to work together to build a ray gun to surge all of the Earth's power into your God. Do this and your species will be rewarded very well, this is my promise to you, my lowly, insignificant servants." He finished before sitting back down. All the insects below taking that as their cue to get to work on this ray gun. He relaxed as his message spread not just to the bugs in front of him but also because of the bugs with the cameras, all the insects across the planet got to work as well. All his servants heard their God's word, his pheromones apparently speaking across the planet. They all now work together, finally truly unified as one to serve their God's will. The utopia that has been discussed and debated for centuries will all soon be theirs once their God ascends further and all will be able to truly bask in his glory very soon from the sounds of it. Could he have made it himself? Realistically yes but this was a test of this lower species' devotion to their better. After a few hours the ray gun was finally constructed. Kyle was semi-impressed. Took longer than if he would've built it but that would've taken just the power of the whole continent. These insects managed to arrange things so all the electrical, solar and nuclear power on the planet would all surge into him. He stomped in front of the ray, truly uncaring of who or what he stepped on and demanded that the mortals turned it on. A glow of pure light from the ray guns tip was all Kyle saw before he got an intense burning engulf him, making him send out a massive wail of pain, making him buckle down onto his knees. Each cell in his body breaking down and duplicating at speeds faster than the speed of light. The scream from their God made the mortals turn on the machine in naive fear that this would even so much as hurt their God. This was just part of his ascension. His body steamed and pulsed within the scales on his body as he was at least 4 times bigger than when he approached all his servants. His whole being glowing in pure, radiant light before revealing his red hot, scorching body. With a raging hard-on that had collapsed a few buildings around him, he looked down at the mortal furiously. "I DIDN'T SAY FOR YOU TO TURN IT OFF, YOU WORM! TURN IT BACK ON AND DON'T TURN IT OFF AGAIN!" He shouted furiously at the beetle sized mortal who dared to blue ball him at the beginning of this glorious moment. The demand was so loud it was heard from the other side of the planet. The insect of a man trembled and pathetically begged his God for forgiveness as it turned the ray gun back on. The same flash of light before the overwhelming pain surged through the living God. He rapidly grew more quickly than ever before. His expansion was akin to an un-bursting balloon being hooked up to a thousand air machines. His screams turned into moans of triumph and dominion over all that exists, the feelings of pleasure converted into feelings of pure pleasure, bliss and ecstasy. He grew to tower the whole land, able to see past the horizon on the planet as all conceivable knowledge flowed into his mind. The timelines of this dimension and galaxy along with all other ones. Not only could he know of them, he could control them by mere thought alone. With this, he altered all dimensions and galaxies to worship him and him alone. Not even other versions of himself in other dimensions. Those pathetic versions of himself should've obtained true God-hood and dominion of all that is, isn't and isn't yet before he could. Once all the power got drained from the planet, he took his stand. His foot alone was the size of a small island. Each step creating a deep indentation in the puny lands beneath him. His musk and pheromones had replaced all the oxygen in the air, making it the only thing any of his servants could smell. He looked down to barely be able to see his lowly servants anymore. His cock throbbed with might, dripping some pre down onto a city that got blessed with their God's seed. He bellowed in triumph and might as a wicked way to reward his servants popped into his mind. His mind was certain now what kind of rapture his subjects would experience. "MY SERVANTS CALLED HUMANS, YOU HAVE SERVED YOUR GOD WELL AND HAVE REDEEMED ALL LIFE ON THIS PITIFUL, LOWLY PLANET! SO THUS, ALLOW YOUR GOD TO REWARD YOU WITH WHAT YOU ALL SHALL TRULY DESIRE!" He yelled to all his servants below. He held up his right hand over the planet and started to telepathically lift up all life on Earth towards them. Every man, every animal, every insect, every virus and multi-cell organism joined together to be pressed against the mighty hand of their God. He proceeded to take all the creatures and used their bodies to create a fleshlight that would barely be capable of handling his eclipsing shaft. He then put it to work, jamming his massive, throbbing cock into the writhing collection of life on this planet. He didn't go gentle on the insignificant specs, thrusting in and out rapidly as he started to absorb all the lifeforms. This was their purpose fully realized. Their heaven would be becoming a conscious addition to their God. He grew and grew even more. The usual sensation was more of a tingle this time around. He was so damn close, he had hoped that some of the pathetic life forms would survive long enough to experience their God coming. As a being outside of him that is. They would have all of eternity to experience being both their God's cock and the load he shoots out at the same time. He groaned as his mighty body and cock expanded far outside the stratosphere making him able to see all of space before him, the continent cracking under his weight. He screamed gloriously as he squeezed his dick tightly, unleashed his load that would've replaced the very oceans of the planet off into space. This would crush and press any remaining specks of life into his cock. He panted tiredly as all of life would get absorbed into his glorious, perfectly Godly form. Then in his maniacal state where he didn't want the smallest risk of his rule being undone, he absorbed all the Kyle's in the other dimensions. Some were stupid enough to think they were safe from his grasp and all begging to be spared. Even one that was close to finishing using his dimensions servants just as he had finished seconds before he did. He should've gotten that taken care of a few seconds earlier. He didn't even get a bit of mercy from his better self as he was just on the edge of climaxing before he and all of his servants in that dimension were all absorbed. Not only were all the other Kyle's absorbed but all of their blasphemous followers. There was to be nothing worshiped as God other than him. As they got absorbed, jet black ram-like horns rapidly grew along his head along with spikes on his back and his tail. All the colors of each spike were that of each Kyle absorbed. His eyes changed color as well, becoming a dimly glowing deep purple color. Giving the God a cold, cruel stare even though he himself grew indifferent and it showed in his face. As a result of this, he had grown to the point that the Earth would no longer be able to withstand his size so he had to step off of the lifeless planet. His body had become coated in veins, every vein his body bulging out and competing with his muscles for which would be more prominent. Also, he had become all knowing, knowing of every thought and action across all the dimensions, even before they occurred and this was showcased by his bulbous forehead which was as long, if not longer, than his abdomen. He could feel all the life he had absorbed coursing through them. Not only that, but all the intelligence and malicious, evil intentions of the other Kyles. All their thoughts, all their praises and prayers, all their begging and pleading for release.it was decided through absorbing all the other Kyles and their evil, however, that he would not rule as a benevolent or indifferent God, but one that was more cruel and punishing than any devil to exist all because he merely could. All life was far too beneath him to hold any maliciousness towards them. All was solely to remind them every second of their lives knowing their place. He dismissed all the voices and feelings equally to work on shifting the very planets and the various dimensions to his will. Pressing the planets in his dimension together and breaking them down to forge a throne worthy of his rule. He then proceeded to make all the other dimensions pay for not aiding in his ascension by giving them form, pressing them against each other to create his new garments: a pair of gladiator sandals, forced to have some of the foulest part of his body be the very thing they breathed in with no reprieve whatsoever. As he sat down on his throne, his servants and selves from other dimensions all now relishing in becoming a part of their God, he then grabbed the very sun itself and broke it in two. One half forged onto a crown and the other half served as a cock ring to keep the deity forever erect. He needed to repay his lowly servants after all and being in a constant state of sexual arousal which they all could feel was the very least this God could do for them. I would appreciate feedback in the comments section I'm always open to collaboration if anyone needs ideas for a corrupt story where the evil tyrant wants to get even stronger. Just write me a private message if I have aroused your interest.
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