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Feedback makes me hard - as long as it's somewhat positive. Enjoy My grandpa died recently. He was the most brilliant man I had ever heard of. He won the Nobel Prize in Physics twice and the Nobel Prize in Chemistry once. How does a person do that? I guess that was 6 months ago now. I’m starting to lose track of time as I think back of what my life was before. Sometimes it feels like 2 years, sometimes like 2 weeks. Things are getting fuzzy. When it comes down to it, the first 23 years of my life have been pretty good. I have smarts – I’m no brain trust, but I’m sharp and witty enough. I’m shorter than I’d like to be at 5’ 7’ but it could be worse. People have told me my entire life that I am cute, adorable, etc. I guess I’m OK. I have sharp elf-like features I’ve been told – maybe a bit of Scandinavian mixed with Eastern European – like some Lord of the Rings citizen of Lothlorian, but shorter and more tan. I should get one of those ancestry kits and see what I’m made of. Anyway, ya, I guess I’m cute’ish. Nothing of global significance, but if I were found in a small pond, I’d be attractive. And I’ve been able to stay thin and lean after high school and college. I can’t put on a pound of muscle to save my life, and I have tried. But, I do have a nice high tight round ass, a decent 7” cock when I get really excited, and low enough body fat to have 6 noticeable abs and squared off – if mostly flat – pecs. I wear fitted clothes easily. But enough about me for now. So back to my grandpa and looking back on how this all began for me – he was, no joke, the smartest man on this planet. I idolized him. I still do. Grandma is still alive, barely, and I love her as much as I loved him. She supported him always and never waivered from his side. A few hours after grandpa’s funeral, my grandma delivered a box to me at my small apartment, smaller than a shoebox. I was so sad to loose him. I was devastated. But she grabbed my hand and said, “Trevor, he really wanted you to have this. I don’t know what’s inside, but I think I know. He said it was his most valued possession, other than me.” She pushed the box into my chest, surprising me with her sharp shove. “I need to go take a nap, Trevor. It’s been such a long day.” The funeral had been just a few hours ago after all. “He told me to tell you to read the note first and wait a while to open the rest of the gift.” I watched her waddle away, my nan. What a tough woman to have balanced a force like my granddad. She could hang with the best of ‘em. I looked at the box and decided that I would open it after a well-deserved nap. I was exhausted. ********************************************************* Trevor woke up from his nap wondering whether it was after sunset or if it was the next day. His body stretched like a wakening feline. He could feel his lean body lengthening as he reached behind his head and grabbed the top of the headboard. Again the thought came to him – Is it morning or just a couple hours after going to sleep? He looked over at the clock. 7:59PM. Good. He hadn’t overslept into an entirely new day. There was the box. The box his grandfather left him just to the side of his clock. His curiosity got the best of him. “What would grandpa want to give me?” was the only thing he could think to himself. “Grandma seemed a bit – annoyed – about the whole thing,” he muttered under his breath. He unwound the tape that was holding the box closed and opened up the leaflets to what lay inside. “What the fuck is this then?” Trevor peered into the box and saw a small bottle made of clay. It was so nondescript he thought it looked like a kindergartener may have made it on Arts-and-Crafts Day. There were a few folded pieces of paper on the bottom of the box too. He grabbed the paper with his thick fingers (he did have big hands for his size which he always liked about himself) and started to read the words written on the page in an elegant fountain pen handwriting style. “Trevor, I miss you already. I miss your nan. I miss your brother and sisters. I miss your mother and your cousins. All of them. I need to give you something of great importance. When you read this letter, I want you to resist doing anything else afterward except to take a few hours and contemplate what I have written. That is all I can ask of you. My eldest grandchild, I wish you well. I wish you happiness. I wish your desires granted beyond your wildest dreams. Grandpa Wallace” There was a second sheet underneath, written in the same pen strokes. 1. Ask questions. Ask as many and as often as you need. 2. There are many rules. You will learn them as time goes on. 3. Attempt to anticipate consequences far beyond your normal understanding. 4. Maintain control of your emotions, wishes, desires. It will be difficult beyond any explanation I can give you. 5. Embrace who you are but do not lose sight of reality. 6. Help him go further than he could ever hope. It’s up to you now. That was the entire second page. Trevor sat on the bed wondering what the note meant. It was more than cryptic. It was confusing and frustrating. He remembered his grandmother just before she scurried out of the room telling him to “wait a while” before opening the rest of the gift and the note stating that he should “take a few hours and contemplate.” All Trevor saw was a small clay jar, misshapen, old, and ugly really. What did the words in the note mean? Ugh. He didn’t have much patience for this. But he trusted his grandpa and grandma more than just about anyone so he sat there quietly and alone with his thoughts. ****************************************************************************************** Dantalion waited patiently in his vessel. His consciousness swirled in a tight mist. This would be his 12thand final cycle. He knew that he was surely to be destroyed by one of his elder brothers during this binding. He thought back to the beginning when the djinn were created. They were governed by an immensely complex system of laws, regulations, and norms. Twelve of them had been created and now there were only three left. All of them had started on a quest to fill the Well of their power. Each of the twelve had their own Well. The first of the 12 to fill his Well would ascend to Godhood and then would have the power to crush the vessels of the remaining brothers, destroying them and snuffing them out of existence. The humans always considered the djinn to have godlike powers, but with their restrictions, they were more servants to their Bound and trapped in a labyrinth of regulation. He remembered with apathy his previous Bound. According to his personal opinion, the prior 11 were relatively weak men with little imagination. They all wanted power, control, money, or sex. There was nothing horribly creative about that and Dantalion was often bored. Unfortunately for the Bound, one of the laws was that a djinn could not change his physical self to be that of a woman. He was sure he would have spent his previous cycles in various female forms satisfying sexual urges otherwise. Not that sex with a woman was inherently unpleasant, but he knew that it would be one more thing to be bored by – acting out another fantasy without being able to enjoy it. After thousands of years, he was still a virgin, mostly because none of his previous Bound had granted him the ability to feel sex, feel what it was like, what the big deal was all about. He didn’t really care. Humans were so simple, really. Motivated by four or five base instincts. His 11thand most recent Bound wanted knowledge. He was a very measured, unique man, and never lost control. That was unfortunate for Dantalion. He was unable to extract much mana from him to fill his Well. He was attentive to the man but Wallace was so tight wound and controlled. He never let Dantalion really show the range of his power, not even the smallest iota. But Wallace had from the beginning stated he had mostly what he wanted in life. His desire was for knowledge. Apparently, the acquisition of three Nobel Prizes was good enough for the man. Dantalion would have rather ruled the world with him, but that was not his luck. Dantalion had no moral compass with regard to human interactions. He had always been there to fulfill the desires of his Bound – that was his purpose of existence – at least that is what they believed. He knew that it was far more than that. Three wishes would be offered a selected Bound. Those wishes would allow the potential companion to experience the galactic power of the djinn soon to be at his service. Then if the binding was accepted, and it always was, the ritual would begin and the two life-forces would be joined together. Once a Binding was complete, the djinn would wick a steady flow of mana from the desires and emotions of the Bound. As more wishes, desires, dreams were fulfilled – and with increased power used to fulfill them – the more mana would be wicked into the Well. The more intense the satisfaction of the Bound, the more desire an action of the djinn satisfied, the more mana would be drawn away. Dantalion had been woefully unlucky in his chance pairings with humans. But this was the first selected pairing. His 11thsuggested his grandson, Trevor, to be Dantalion’s 12thand last binding. All those before had been so selfish of their power over this djinn, they had hidden the vessel rather than pass it along to anyone else. This would be his last cycle. None of the brothers had filled the Well yet, but Bael and Asteroth were close, he could sense it. He knew that he was so far behind them in the fucked up game that they were a part of, he would never be able to catch up. He didn’t know how they had found such powerful Bound to link with in prior cycles, but Dantalion was resigned to being destroyed at some point in the next few years, if not sooner. He had been in existence for thousands of years, but now he was on borrowed time. All of these thoughts swirled in his mind as he realized that in a moment, he would meet his 12thand last Bound. It was a bittersweet feeling that he felt in his mind. He would do his duty, obey the law, fill his Well as best he could, and then await destruction. He knew that if he had not filled his Well by the end of the 12th cycle, he would just simply cease to exist. In 11 cycles, his Well was only half full. He would do his best, as always, but there was a sinking feeling deep inside of him. No time for that now. He needed to make a good impression to assure the new Bound would accept his offer. He quieted his mind and continued to swirl in his vessel. ****************************************************************************************** Trevor held the small clay blob in his hand. It was hollow from the lightness of it. There was a small hole in the top, which had been plugged with a stone and sealed with wax. He was confused. What was in there that was so special? Maybe the jar was some ancient relic of museum quality. Maybe there was nothing in there at all. He was curious though. Curious about why his grandfather would think of giving him this and why his grandma was so brusque about it. He got a knife from the kitchen and started whittling away at the wax. He needed to get that stone out. On closer inspection, it appeared to be a green gem set in the hole – a bit cloudy in its clarity, but still lustrous. He kept chipping away at the wax. Maybe he could sell the gem to a jeweler if anything. Finally, he was able to remove the stone. He shook the jar. Nothing inside. He was more confused now than ever. Sitting the jar down, he just shook his head. Weird. He was sitting on the edge of his bed and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. Dantalion emerged slowly from the jar in a wisp of whitish blue mist. He was tentative. He had met the man who would become his 12thBound before and knew that a brash show would just serve to frighten. He was calculated in his approach. The mist became more condensed. Dantalion began to speak softly, gently, and soothingly. “Trevor. Trevor. We need to talk.” Trevor heard his name and sat up with a start. He saw a man, thin, tall…familiar, forming I front of him. The mist increased in density. It almost appeared solid now. Before him stood his grandfather’s diligent and devoted assistant impeccably dressed in a dark suit, mid-twenties, thin, wearing stylish glasses in an attractive boy-next door way. What the fuck? “Trevor, we need to talk.” He soothingly spoke again as he became solid. Real. “What the fuck is this?” Trevor’s voice was shaking and had a terrified look in his eyes. “Trevor, I am here to bind with you like I did with your grandfather. I will satisfy every desire you have, within the confines of djinn law.” Trevor looked at Dantalion with caution, like he was in the room with a hungry lion he did not want to offend. Trevor found shook his head and pinched his arm. He wasn’t dreaming apparently. “I know you. You’re my grandfather’s assistant, Dante. Wait, what do you mean ‘bind’ with me?” He had always thought of Dante as cute, maybe not as cute as him, but pleasant to look at. He’d look better with more muscle. “Have you heard of the djinn? Genies?” “The fuck you are!” Trevor spat out at the man he knew as Dante. “I was able to grant your grandfather’s greatest desires of knowledge. But he did not take full advantage of my capabilities. My power is without measure or your ability to comprehend. I can fulfill your wildest dreams, within confines of djinn law.” Trevor looked at him apprehensively. “You keep saying ‘within the confines of djinn law’. What does that mean?” Dantalion/Dante approached the bed slowly as not to scare the human before him. He had this discussion with 11 men before, and was able to eventually get through their disbelief and explain himself. “I have immeasurable power to give what you desire, but there are regulations and laws that I must abide by…too many to discuss tonight. But I can answer any question that you have as they arise. For now, you can ask three wishes of me before you decide if you would like to bind to me.” The man stood there looking down on Trevor. His eyes, Trevor suddenly noticed, were red-orange like a fire, flickering as a small flame and deep as an endless pit. He felt as if the deep pools of dark flames were hypnotizing him as he stared at the djinn’s countenance. Of course he remembered that the djinn were fire spirits. At least that is what he knew from his college course on Mythology. “So I get three wishes to decide if I want to “bind” with you? We’ll talk about what that means soon I hope.” Trevor paused, “I admit I’m a bit confused.” “Make a wish. I need you to know what I can do for you.” Dantalion used his most soothing calm voice. But there was a pleading quality to it. Trevor couldn’t look away from Dantalion’s eyes. “I wish I had some coffee, black, 180 degrees, 16 ounces in a thermal cup.” A cup of coffee appeared on the bed stand, which Trevor picked up and sipped. It was amazingly perfect. “You can do better than that, Trevor.” Dantalion was a bit annoyed that his new master’s first wish was to make him an errand boy. He would definitely not put any mana into his Well with this sort of imagination. Trevor looked at the coffee. His mind started to run wild. He had imagined this type of power from 6 years old. Reading stories of Aladdin, or the short stories of Middle East philosophy, The Arabian Nights and others, he had been enamored of the idea. But to actually have it manifest in his bedroom was overwhelming. Trevor, for some reason, began to feel a bit aroused. What if this was real? Geez, he’d jacked off to the thought of having an all-powerful genie grant him three wishes. He thought he knew exactly what he would do back then, but most of them involved muscle and sex. His brow began to sweat. He started to feel his cock push against his dark slacks. He was still in his funeral attire. “God, I can’t believe this is happening to me. Today. Now.” But his mind continued to flit across the many dreams, wishes, hopes that he had banked in all 23 years of his life, most of those created with his right hand around his hard cock. He gulped and remembered the words written on the paper his grandfather left him ‘Ask questions.’ “Can you change your body? Can you change my body?” He could barely believe that is how the conversation started. There were certainly many more pressing things to ask. Dantalion took a step toward Trevor and said, “Yes” in a low grumbling tone. “But I cannot assume the form of a woman. It is against djinn law.” “Well, who said I wanted you to be a woman? That’s an odd assumption.” Trevor sat up straight and grabbed the warm coffee on the nightstand. “And you can change my body?” “Only in any way imaginable that you see fit…Master.” Dantalion knew he had to be careful here. Other djinn law forbade him to make himself or his Bound too conspicuous. That is how they had stayed hidden for centuries. “I can change your physical being into anything you can imagine, within the con…” “Ya, ‘within the confines of djinn law.’ I get it. But what does that mean?” Dantalion took one more step toward him. He looked his soon-to-be Bound in the eyes. He could feel the flames licking his eyelids. His weak, thin, form that he had been possessing in his previous cycle was so inadequate for what he needed to show the 12th. But he needed to be patient. “It means, ultimately, that as long as you do not draw too much attention to yourself, you don’t have limits. I don’t have limits. One of the primary laws states that undue attention should not be drawn to the djinn or his Bound. “ Trevor licked his lips and his mind switched gears instantly. “Ok. I wish that you would, without drawing too much attention, as this seems very problematic for you, put 5 million dollars into my bank account. It can be over as long as 6 months – as not to alarm anyone.” Dantalion turned away and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can do that.” He realized that Trevor, his last Bound would be like all the others. Selfish, yes, he expected that…but also foolish, myopic, and infantile in the ability to understand what power they truly possessed when enlisting his services. He would be blotted out now, he was sure – his Well only half-full and that would be the end of his existence. “You can do that, Dante?” “I have started the process already. I have invested the sum of your meager savings account into stock that I will deftly control over the next 6 months, should I survive that long. You will have 5 million dollars in your investment account before the end of those 6 months.” Dantalion stood tall, still in the dark business suit he wore as Wallace’s assistant. Trevor looked a bit perplexed. He heard every word that Dante had said, but he also picked up on the “should I survive that long” part. He would ask about that later too. He started looking carefully at the djinn. He was so poised, confident but almost shy and thin in a healthy way. Maybe the word was ‘deferential.’ “Is this your true form?” Trevor looked into the eyes of his djinn. He knew that he would accept the binding. He could feel it inside of himself. His grandfather had bequeathed this gift to him. But he wanted to know a bit more – curiosity and all. “No, this is not my true form. I have two actually. The form of the mist and the form of physicality. The form of the mist is how I am able to reside in my vessel for thousands of years on end without outside interactions. It is a distillation of my consciousness. The form of physicality is my true form when I am extended out of my vessel. It is against djinn law to show you my physical form until we are bound.” “Do you have a sense of right and wrong? Standard philosophy or ethics? Things like that?” Dantalion took one more step toward the bed. He was nearly shin-to-shin with Trevor who had remained seated. “I do not have the ethics of a human. Because of that, I can serve every desire you may have. If you wish for me to pull the very continent of Atlantis from the bottom of the sea, I can do that, regardless of ethics, and in such a way that it would be explainable scientifically. I can crush all of the armies of the world in a matter of minutes and make it appear to be self-inflicted or one army pitted against another that could be explained.” Dantalion appeared to be getting excited just thinking about accomplishing these feats of wonder. He wantedto use his limitless power. “I do not have your morals. It allows me to fulfill your human desires whatever they may be. There are no judgments.” Dantalion spoke in a low rumbling purr. Trevor gulped as he stared into the eyes of the man he knew as Dante. His mouth was suddenly dry. The embers of Dantalion’s eyes licked his pupils and bore into the young man sitting before him. In his current form, he appeared to be near the same age. Trevor appeared maybe a bit more muscular. With Dante’s tailored well-fitted suit, he just looked very thin. His mind was racing, darting around to late night jack off sessions on the internet, a thousand morphed photos of different dream men he would love to fuck and be fucked by, stories of strength and muscle growth, and cock growth and …. Beads of sweat continued to form on his upper lip and forehead. His breath became shallow and ragged as his mind spun fantasy upon fantasy. His respectable 7” cock began to push against his well-fitted square cut briefs even more than before. He had imagined this moment in so many of his fantasies. For his third and final wish before accepting the binding, he wanted to know if it were true. Dantalion could not read the man’s mind but he felt that something was coming. Some powerful urge was rising. A heavy-weighted door was unlocking and creaking open in the deepest recesses of Trevor’s mind and Dantalion could see it on his face and see it in his cock. He felt that the next words that were spoken would determine that trajectory of his 12thand final binding. Somehow he just intuitively knew – this one would be different. Trevor hastily formed a wish and he knew it wasn’t going to be perfectly formed and he didn’t care. If Dante could make this come true, he would be able to bind with him and have endless wishes. “I wish that your body grew to 8 feet tall and that your arms became so large with dense, hard, striated muscle that they reached from floor to ceiling. Your skin so thin that a single sheet of paper would think it was too thick in comparison. These are 12-foot ceilings. You think you can do that, Dante?” He could feel his hard dick getting bigger and bigger, pulsing with unabashed curiosity and desire to see his third wish come true. Dante looked at Trevor with perplexity. None of his other Bound had asked him to demonstrate control over his own presentation unless it had been to terrify an enemy. Those before had wanted money, military defeats, the building of great structures…and more recently, knowledge. But this man was different. Something was very very unique as he looked in the man’s eyes and saw the man’s penis growing, throbbing, fighting with his trousers. “Curious,” he thought to himself. He nodded. “Yes, I can do that for you.” ****************************************************************************************** There was a pregnant pause between the two. Dantalion was attempting to read Trevor’s body language. He didn’t know the human well enough yet. “Would you like to instruct me on how to fulfill your wish, or would you like me to take…liberties?” Trevor’s breath caught in his throat. This was actually going to happen. “Can I instruct you for the beginning? Then maybe you can take ‘liberties.’” “You can do whatever you desire. I exist to serve you,” the genie rumbled. Dantalion and his deep flaming eyes looked down at Trevor on the bed. He sensed something close to supplication from the human, near worship. A pleading flicked across his face - A desire that Dantalion probed and where he found great depth. He, of course could not read the mind of the 12thunless granted access, but he could feel the edges of it with his expanded mind. Dantalion had been around humans for thousands of years and knew how to pick up on behaviors. The 12thwas seeping into the wildest recesses of his desires. Fuck, he could feel the energy building as Trevor contemplated how to begin. This one was so incredibly different, he repeated silently to himself. “I want to see you naked, first” Dantalion’s clothes vanished just as the last word left Trevor’s mouth. The djinn’s body was tight, thin, lean, and beautiful in a marathon runner sort of way. His skin the color of a summertime tan and his hair shortly cropped and a light sandy brown. “Over the course of 30 seconds, pleasegrow to 8 foot tall, same dimensions you have now.” Dantalion paused. He had rarely, maybe never, hear the word “please” when directed at him. Another something new. His naked thin body kept the same dimensions as before as he slowly expanded. He stopped thinking about what might be going on in Trevor’s head. He was in the middle of wish-granting and a djinn took that very seriously. He waited for his next command as he reached the 8-foot mark. Trevor, for all of his attempts to remain calm, looked at the tower of man in front of him and realized that this was all real and that his most depraved and wild fantasies could become flesh. His cock began to expel pre-cum into his trousers wicked away by his tight square cut briefs. Dantalion could smell something sweet. The beginnings of sex in the air. He had experienced that with previous Bound as they celebrated victories, defeats, destruction of enemies – but they had all been with harems of women, not directed toward him or when he was alone with his master. He was curious again. After thousands of years, he didn’t know curiosity would be so exhilarating. Trevor’s voice was again becoming ragged, shallow, pressured. He loved arms, he loved forearms, he love pecs, he loved lats and traps, he loved glutes (shit, he loved glutes), he loved quads and hamstrings, he loved delts, and he loved calves. He loved all muscle. He picked one of the many. “Please, increase your biceps and triceps to 30 inches around over the course of 30 seconds. The skin should remain thin and nothing thicker than single ply plastic cling film. And I want veins. Lots of veins on the surface to feed your growing muscles.” Trevor could barely breath. Did he just say that out loud to a stranger – even worse, his grandfather’s assistant now standing in front of him naked. Dantalion and his flame-licked eyes focused on Trevor’s face, on his erection pushing pre-spunk out in a slow stream, on the smell of need and desire in the air around them. He looked at his right arm then left and started growing them. He had never been asked for this expression of his own physicality. It was new and somehow excited him on a profound level. His biceps began to grow quickly and the skin covering his arms became somehow even thinner. Dantalion’s triceps quickly formed multiple bellies with striations so detailed, it appears that they were constructed of thousands of threads of fishing line, all writhing underneath the skin. Dante’s arms were stunning and perfectly symmetrical with a 30” exact diameter. They were the vision of pure raging power. But Trevor’s wish was just beginning. Ok, now to 80 inches in diameter,” he looked with a ravenous hunger at Dante’s arms. The djinn’s biceps grew and blossomed. Trevor, now standing up, reached to feel Dantalion’s growing arms and the djinn humbly leaned forward to allow him access to the change that was occurring. Trevor could feel the muscle fibers dividing quickly. It felt as if he had his hand over a steel morning-bloomed flower who’s petals keep unfurling over and over and over, cycle after cycle. Trevor peered at Dante’s right arm and saw skin so thin, he could actually see the beefy red muscle cells underneath. Veins as delicate as spider’s webs covered the blossoming biceps and triceps. Several thick radiator hose sized veins surfaced slowly, running along the top of the arms and the inside from the elbows to Dante’s armpits. Somehow, veins 3 inches in diameter seemed right…and HOT. “Now, I want to see those fucking arms to go from floor to ceiling,” he spoke softly and with a moan afterward. 10 seconds later and the arms of the god in front of him had grown to a size that Trevor had to back up and sit on his bed again. Dantalion’s arms had grown so much; his monstrous triceps were contacting the floor and causing his still thin, yet very tall, body to rise off of the ground. The twin biceps continued to escalate toward the ceiling, the fibers dividing endlessly without pause, all visible thanks to the paper’s width skin Trevor had requested. The veins of Dante’s arms continued to grow thicker and more plentiful. Trevor could now see them pulsing and writhing pumping growth juice into every individual cell. Dante was taking “liberties” with how he presented himself in this way. He eyed Trevor and saw the smaller man studying the webbing of the vessels, the constant replication of muscle cells, and also saw him rubbing his cock that continued to crawl down the leg of his tight trousers. His new-to-be Bound had said he was 7” when hard. He was clearly 8” now. What did that mean? Dante knew he was doing something right. For Trevor, this was the culmination of so many wet dreams. This was better because it was real. Finally, as the growth slowed, Trevor looked up at Dantalion’s face suspended in mid-air, body elevated several feet off the ground thanks to the titanic triceps bellies writhing underneath and pressing into the floor. The arms that he requested took up more than half of the bedroom. But something was off. “Dante, will you grant me another wish, just so that I can see how glorious you are?” Pulse, pulse, pulse went Trevor’s dick. He wanted to take it out and start beating in right there. “I will grant you one final wish before you decide on your binding to me,” he rumbled while looking down on the man below. “Dante, I wish that your forearms, hands, and deltoids were proportional to your arms. You may take liberties.” Without warning, an eruption of muscle so powerful and swift occurred that Trevor was blown towards the far wall. Just before he collided, he felt the newly enormous right hand of Dantalion catch him more softly and gently than he would have believed. He felt the giant 3 foot wide mitt draw back toward the wall-sized pulsating muscle that had just exploded with mass. “Trevor, have I pleased you?” Dante’s voice was powerful and deep like one million earthquakes but also curious, cautious, submissive. Trevor was beginning to lose his grip on reality. His breath was becoming more shallow. Trevor looked down on the 40” forearms riveted with throbbing arterials pulsating in rhythm with Dante’s heartbeat. WAIT, they were pulsating with Trevor’s own heartbeat, mimicking his pulse rate. Fucking crazy. Dante’s deltoids rose to near ceiling height, just shorter than the unbelievable mountain range of the biceps peaks - jagged, gnarled, but somehow perfectly balanced. “Can I touch you?” Trevor asked in a whisper. “You can do what ever you would like with me, Trevor,” Dantalion breathed into his hand where Trevor was seated struggling to maintain control. “You own this body and everything that it can do.” It was obvious from Dantalion’s innocence that he did not understand the weight of his comments on Trevor’s mind. In and other place that comment would be a proposition. In matters of sex and attraction, Dante was a child. Trevor reached out to touch the throbbing, hard, indestructible wall of muscle in front of him. He made contact and then pulled down his pants. Dante’s skin felt like warm buttery silk. The fibers beneath like steel cables an engineer would use to suspend a bridge. A groan so loud that it actually surprised both himself AND the djinn burst forth from Trevor’s mouth. “FUCKIN YES! Make my dreams come true, you fucking beast!!!” Shot after shot of Trevor’s cum hit Dantalion. His enormous hands and forearms were covered with cum and rivulets of seed collected in the crevices of the djinn’s enlarged hands. A certain quite fell onto the room. Dantalion felt so alive, so energized, so different than he had felt with any other Bound – and they had not made the binding yet. This was all so new and unexpected. Trevor leaned back into the giant paw that held him off of the ground. He was still recovering from the longest, most intense, most reality based orgasm of his life. “Trevor, do you bind yourself to me? I can fulfill this and infinitely more wishes based on your need and desires.” All that Trevor could see was walls of throbbing angry hard dense muscle. “Fuck ya, I want to bind with you. I won’t let your power be wasted.” Thoughts of just a few minutes earlier pummeled his mind. So much power, so much muscle, so much of everything he had beat off to for years. Laws, regulations, and more complicated stuff he couldn’t consider at the moment. “How do we do this ritual?” Trevor’s voice was sure and steady. Dantalion smiled and the flames dancing in his eyes flared and began to burn blue. “You must start by calling me by my true name: Dantalion, not Dante. I will do the rest.”
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Hey there yall! First story in the forum. It is a short one, but I hope yall like it anyway! --------- "Ooooooh...fuuuuuck..." A deep, gutteral voice resounds through the room, almost drowned out by the sounds of wet flesh slapping against each other. Two men were seemingly having the best sex of their lives, their loud moans being able to be heard for miles with how loud they were being. The man on bottom couldn't do anythimg but scream "oh god, oh fuck" again and again as a massive cock slammed into him over and over, spreading him wide open as the cock was almost as thick as his wrist and almost as long as one of his arms. And yet, It was going all in effortlessly, all thanks to the owner of it, a man so muscular you would think he was one of the biggest bodybuilders ever, even when he has surpassed all of them long ago. Muscle upon muscle over every inch of his body. His pecs so wide and massive he could barely see over them. Arms so thick they were always in a state of flexing. Legs as thick as tree oaks. Glutes with the perfect mix of plump and muscle. And of course, a long, massive cock, giving him so much pleasure as he pounded away at the bottom, his balls as big to match. Those two weren't the only ones in the room, though. All over it there were men having sex, lost in their own pleasure as they fucked each other brain's out in all kinds of ways. All of them muscular, all of them with massive cocks and asses. All of them insatiable "F...Fuuuuuckkkkkk!" Like a dam breaking, the muscle god thrusts inside the bottom as he cums, gallons upon gallons leaving his balls, most of it going into the bottom's belly, some of it falling on the floor and making a pool. "Oooooh yesssss..." It goes on for a few minutes, and it almost seems like his release is never gonna end, but the flow eventually slows down, the man slowly pulling out his cock with a loud *pop*, the cock flopping down as the bottom drops to the floor, exhausted, but still moaning. "Mmmff...so fucking good..." The muscle god stares at his long, thick cock. It was quite a sight to behold, and even looking at it was making him hard again, leaking pre. "Hehe...f-fuckk..." He grips his cock on his hand, softly stroking it as it pulses, slowly and surely, just for his entire body to follow, growing and expanding in size. His pecs become bigger, his arms thicker, his ass rounder and buffer, a few inches taller, moans freely leave his mouth. It was a second orgasm. And his cock...his already massive cock grows even more. Before, he could wrap it on one hand without issue. But now? Now it came up short, and this fact made him shoot a load of pre to the nearest wall, joining an already huge splash of cum that was there hours before. "Fuuuuck...look at me...so fucking huge...so fucking horny..." He licks his own arms, smelling his own musky pits, turning him on even more than before. His cock throbbed to life again, as if he didn't just cum gallons after fucking that bottom for dear life. Just like that, his balls were full again, begging for sweet release. And he was gonna give it, for sure, stroking the massive tool with both hands as he looks as the other muscle gods, all fucking without a care in the world. Just like with him, they were massive, muscular men, with massive pecs, massive biceps, massive legs, the biggest cocks and the fattest asses. And every once in a while, they would grow even bigger, lost in the pleasure of growth, just to start fucking again. The floors, the ceiling, the walls. All of them were covered in cum. The only sounds were the sounds of moans, the begging for more, and the slapping of flesh upon flesh. "Mmmf..." There was a very small part of the muscle god that resounded on his head, on the very far back of his memories. Memories of fucking a guy in the gym's showers. Memories of that man giving him a "gift". Memories of waking up that night harder than ever, his cock unable to go down, just for him to grow when he came. Memories of him trying to stop, at some point, just to give in to the evergrowing lust, unable to stop being horny no matter how much he came. Memories of calling in his friend for help...just for him to fuck him, his friend unable to resist temptation, giving him the "gift" too. Memories of going out to the city, into a club, and fucking everyone there. Memories of someone going out, giving the "gift" to another person. Memories of...of... "Mm-mmf..." But his memories become fuzzier as his cock lurches, the stroking intensifying on pure instinct. What showers? What man? What "gift"? None of it was important. None of it was right. He had always been an insatiable muscle god. "Yes...m-mmmf..." A god that could fuck for hours, days, weeks, and never be satiated. A god that turned this city into a field of endless orgy, the men becoming truly happy as they, just like him, became insatiable. No matter where you go, you'll find men fucking in the streets, slowly but surely growing into lustfilled muscle gods, unable to ever go soft, unable to ever be satiated. Even if they tried to stop, they never would. Their "gift" would just make them horny again, swallowing their mind deeper and deeper into that hedonistic, perfect heaven... "F-FUCK!~" He cums again, his memories from before this point becoming swallowed up, any regret disappearing into the cum as gallons upon gallons cover the room, breaking through one of the windows, revealing the cacaphony of moans and sounds on the city below. Everyone in the room became covered in their God's cum...which only make their lust increase, their bodids grow faster. As that happened, the bottom he had just filled, the friend he had called for help, once, moaned and twitched. Just like everyone else, the cum was absorbed into his system as he began to grow, his muscles expanding. But mainly his ass, just so that he could take his god's even thicker cock. "Fuck...m-mmmore..." The god's cock went soft, but just for a second, as the growth kicked in once more, the pleasure hitting in once again. Bigger arms, bigger ass, bigger pecs...and a much, much bigger cock. Now, though, he turned to his favorite bottom, he offering his massive, bubble ass, spreading it to reveal his hole, still leaking out with cum. "Yess..." The god didn't even think twice, and went back to fucking the bottom, the pleasure bigger than before with his bigger, even more sensitive cock. The sounds of raw, pure sex continued on and on. "Fuckkkk...mmmf..." The muscle god could barely even remember his name at this point, but he didn't need a name. He just needed to fuck and grow. "Fuck yeahh...oooh...so fucking good..." With every cumshot, with every flex, with every growth surge, his mind sank deeper and deeper into pleasure, away from the life he once knew and embracing his new life further. He cums again, gallons once more, pulling back his still hard cock out of the bottom, cum leaking out. He sees his cock grow even more, pulsing and throbbing with endless need, just for him to thrust inside once more, no other thoughts on his head as he starts pounding away. "More...moooore..." He couldn't stop even if he wanted to, and stopping was the last thing on his mind. On anyone's minds. The hours turned to days. The days turned to months, and the months turned to years. The "gift" had spread all over the world, making it nothing but an orgy of muscle sex, 24/7. Many men had grown to the size of skyscrapers on that time, their growth having no limits, and yet their lust grew just as much, the world becoming covered in their seed as they flooded it all in their endless lovemaking. And even then, they didn't stop. Not one of them ever did. They couldn't. They wouldn't. Only a single thought remained in their heads, so deep into pleasure, and sinking even deeper. "Moooore..." --- "...Muscle sex zombies. You sneaked in, gave this man this virus, and then watched it all break loose?" A voice resounds, talking to a muscular man. They were very far away from that ruined world. Or any world, for that matter. Both of them looked like very muscular men, their naked bodies the image of perfection. "Yup. Thought it would be a silly thing to do. And look at that! Ain't that hot as hell" "Well, can't deny the results. Will they really just...never stop?" "Never ever!. The virus inside of them will just make them grow and fuck forever, sinking into oh-so-sweet bliss. Ain't that the happiest ending? Fuck, even just saying that makes me hard as hell." The man laughs, stroking his cock a bit. "You have issues, and I find this outcome hollow, in the great scheme of things, but...I can't deny it is kind of arousing indeed. So what, do we just leave this timeline alone?" "Sure, there's not much else to do here. Onto the next one!" "Sigh...you will let me do my own experiments now, right? You already had your fun, dooming the world with endless sex." "Hehe, sure sure. Show me your ideas, Mr big shot." The two men disappear, ready to cause even more chaos in random timelines. The multiverse was vast and endless. Surely nobody would mind a few hot experiments in some of them, right?
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Once again, with the author's permission, I am reposting a story he wrote for the old forum and later deleted. Fortunately, I saved a copy. This was probably written around 2007, so when dates are mentioned in the story, remember that those were all in the future when it was written. Short Cut by LORUS Part 1 There was no other way out of the bunker. I knew that if I were ever to see the light of day again, I would have to get bigger. The walls were six feet thick, concrete reinforced with tungsten girders. A hundred elephants might be able to do it, or else one of me... Todd Emery, world’s strongest muscleman. But not strong enough. Not yet anyway. I was going to have to bodybuild my way out. It was all that I knew how to do. Let me put this into context, although words were never my forty... or is it forte? Who cares? Professor Maximillian LeStrange, for all that he looked and behaved like some Bond-esque megalomanic, was an okay fellah. We all knew that the bombs were dropping. It was 2012, the year that the Mayan calendar ran out, that the mysterious Planet Nibiru (or Planet X) was purported to be entering the solar system once again on its 12,000 year cyclic rotation, passing close enough to the sun to cause a massive solar flare to burn up the Earth’s atmosphere and set the planet’s poles to utter reversion, the same year that the antichrist would be revealed (my money’s still on Joan Rivers) ... et cetera et cetera. I never believed any of that crap. I can’t recall who was to blame, really, North Korea or a trigger-happy dissident hothead from behind the Chinese Curtain who happened to get his hands on some very nasty nuclear launch codes. Whatever caused it, the world ended on December 19th, 2012, five years ago this very week. And thanks to Professor LeStrange one Todd Emery survived. The bunker had been one of several the billionaire scientist had had commissioned in private, part of his ADAM Utopia Initiative. It was his way of preserving all that was great about the human race. In one bunker there would be females for breeding stock purposes, mostly lesbians, but stay with me on this. Maximillian (let’s just refer to him as Max from here on) ... Max believed that heterosexuals had fucked up the world, and maybe he was correct in his thinking, I dunno. I wouldn’t call myself an expert on humanity. But in his post-nuclear holocaust utopia, gay men would inherit the earth, with occasional but mandatory breeding privileges with the more athletic of the dykes. You see... the future Human Race would have a great deal of adversity to overcome, so it made sense to have it as healthy and resilient as possible. My bunker was meant to be extra special, for I was the Alpha Male, wired up to a series of contraptions that allowed me to tap into the untold reserves of brain power that most humans allow to go to waste. Mind over body was the future bodybuilding catalyst that would make men into superman... nay ultra-supermen. I was one such ultra... a bodybuilding archetype for a new future. Unfortunately, to block out so much mental static from my subterranean compatriots I had to be in isolation for at least a year. I was okay with that, Max’s billions ensured that my underground tomb was anything but a tomb. It was fully air-conditioned, using a recycling system that gave me constant fresh air and clean water. It had hydroponics and a farm manned by hunky young studs that I constantly turned to for sexual stimulation, not to mention plenty of hot muscle worship and even hotter sex. They saw me as their god, and I was completely okay with that. But cabin fever, even though I had access to twenty-five thousand square feet of space, gets you in the end. Five years of being stuck in the one place, even though it was as idyllic as money could make it, was too horrid to bear. I didn’t want to lose my mind, because if I did, there was no telling what a man of my size, strength and power could do. I must sleep soon but let me tell you a little about a typical day for me. I wake up at 7am every day, at least I think it’s 7am. Very hard to tell the time of day when all you have to look at are artificial computer-generated vistas tricking you into thinking there is a savory world beyond so many sterile windows. I spend a good hour or so posing in front of the many mirrors throughout the complex. I need to see myself constantly, to remind myself just how amazing, how... oh God.... fuck yeah.... how unbelievably huge I am. But not huge enough. I need to get way bigger if I’m to stand a chance of breaking out of here, digging through the collapsed tunnel that connects with the other “vaults”, and finally reintegrating myself into Max’s incredible collective: all gay men, all athletes, thinkers, scientists, doctors... you name it... he has ‘em all. And let’s not forget the lesbians. Back to me and my muscles.... damn! I’m overwhelmed. Fuck this recollecting for now, I’ll get back to it later. Right now, we are all in need of some incredible muscle action. Let me introduce you to Peter, one of my “boys” who tends farm over in Sector Eight. His specialty is bovine maintenance. But he is so pretty to the eyes, blonde haired, bronze skin, and blue eyes... your typical California surfer dude-type. I never allow my guys to wear anything but faded, ripped Levi’s jeans. They go shirtless throughout their working days, and then after... they wear nothing at all. Peter is my favorite. “Come to me, hot stuff.” “Sure Todd.” “You like what you see as I tense up my arms before you?” “I’m so boned for you right now, Todd.” Peter is enthusiastic and angelic, but the sexiest, by far, of all my guys. “Describe what you see before you, Peter... height, weight, the whole deal.” “You seem taller today, much bigger than yesterday, Todd.” Peter is massaging his ball-sack through his jeans as he speaks. His super-trim waist seems to emphasize his hips and what he has between them. His Levi’s always seem to tent out at the front. My cock twitches at the merest thought of him. “What do you mean “much bigger”? I’ve been working out harder than ever!” My tone is vehement. Peter – although my golden boy – must know his place and never say things that disappoint me. “Sorry Todd. You aren’t much bigger... you’re a LOT more than much bigger,” corrects Peter. “That’s better. Look at my flexing biceps... each bigger than your head.... get over here and start doing things to them... and to yourself as you go.” “Fuck yes... I can’t even get my hands around those thick, muscled mounds. They’re HUGE! Fuck, I’m so jizzing for you any minute, Todd!” Peter’s gorgeous, toned chest is heaving now, his breathing excited, becoming more so. And this is just the beginning. He’s squeezing my massive, flexed biceps as I hold the pump in each. His fingers can’t dent the muscle, diamond-hard muscle that keeps getting bigger, harder.... STRONGER!!!!! It’s not enough to break out yet, but I’m getting there. I continue to flex a double biceps, forcing more blood to flow into veins that never seem to be too engorged. They squirm and pulsate like great leeches under my skin, but this is not an unattractive image, rather the contrary. My striations and vascularity are unprecedented... and I can only get bigger, stronger, and better looking. “Your upper arms have easily passed thirty-two inches, Todd. That’s amazing.” Peter’s boner is now more pronounced. His cock easily passes ten inches hard. He is meant to be part of a new race of man, and these men will always be proud of their peckers. No place for needle-dicks here. Of course, my cock easily surpasses his by at least five more inches. And it’s still growing in proportion with my massively muscular body. “How thick is your chest, Peter?” “You already know my dimensions, Todd!” “Tell me again,” I growl, demandingly. He must oblige. There is no free will in my bunker. I won’t allow it, for I am cocky to a fault; I am the Alpha... the biggest... the strongest... the GREATEST!!! “My chest is a slim thirty-eight, Todd. I have a slender but very attractive fit body,” Peter tells me. “You think I can get my biceps up past thirty-eight, bigger than your fucking chest?” “Unnngh,” pants Todd, his massive trouser snake threatening to pop the buttons on his fly and spit precum all over his muscle master. “Of course, you can... and then you can get them even bigger.” Hearing this causes me to beam with delight, growl in a most-masculine way, and flex harder, causing more blood to fucking scream into my biceps with such pressure and velocity. My bicep cannons explode with deadly force. Both biceps grow even more. I can’t believe this growth. It’s incredible. I bring my arms down to my side and then place knuckles on either side of me, above my hips. I burst out a massive lat-spread, my body transforming, bulging upwards and outwards into a gigantic delta of rock hard, mesmerizingly defined muscle flesh. I bend my head backwards so that my neck thickens and thickens, cords bulging out of it as I need to get my chin out of the way so my upper pec-shelf can thicken and expand. All the while I do this, Peter’s hands are forcibly working their way across my chest, fingertips rising and falling in and out of multiple thick and deep striations. They linger around my sensitive nipples, teasing the buds bigger and harder. They redden from his touch and from so much blood nurturing them. “Go down along my massive torso. Tell me what you’re feeling,” I bark. “It’s like nothing else on Earth, Todd. Your body is Utopia. You must be easily 800 lbs. or more. But you need to be over 1000 lbs. to stand a chance of getting us out of there. I feel tiny before you, my god. But you must get bigger... make me feel tinier, more insignificant. Make me want to worship you even more!” “I give the orders, not you, runt!” “Sorry Todd. It won’t happen again.” “What are my abs like?” “Harder than concrete... a perfect ten-pack, striations deep enough to hide coins in, if coinage meant anything these days.” “Gotta get them bigger, harder... way more defined. I need to hide saucers in them, not coins.” “You will, my god. You will!” “Remove my pants!” I too wear Levi’s, only modified by our in-house tailors, for no ordinary pair would come close to fitting me. My waist is thirty-four inches, but my thighs are each almost forty-one around. My tailors do excellent work. Peter gets down on his knees and begins to unbutton my jeans, relieving some of the pressure in front of my swelling genitals. I never wear underpants; there never seems to be enough room for my junk if I do. I haven’t washed since my last workout. My scent down there is warm, cloying. Peter recoils a little as a cloud of my musk affronts him briefly. Then he accepts it. My trouser snake uncoils before him, easily springing to attention. “Fuck... it’s bigger, thicker than it was last time we did this.” Peter looks worried. Will he be able to take all this meat in its entirety? My snakehead is already leaking its venom, only my venom doesn’t poison... it invigorates. “Take my dick into your mouth... gorge on its massiveness.” “I will...er... gag violently, Todd.” “Do you best not to,” I snarl. Peter does as he’s told, his hand groping me from behind, just about able to work its fingers into the deep crack between two massive muscle-mounds that form my bubble-ass. With his other hand he works at his own impressive member, all the while deep-throating me to the best of his ability. He moans with bliss, breathing through his nose to maintain a steady supply of oxygen. “Unngh feels so good, Peter. You are taking all my muscle-meat. Good man!” “Akkkk....ghhhhhk,” he returns, unable to speak for now. I am content to hear those sounds as he struggles to please me. But there is just so much to me... I’m constantly growing, the hugest bodybuilder ever, about to get even huger. “Aw man... you know how to.... gasp... please your master,” I almost scream, as his teeth scrape along the shaft of my so-thick cock, his tongue near-constantly assaulting the sensitive buds around the skirt of the mushroom head. It throws my senses into utter reverie. I cry out, guttural, masculine... dominant. Precum dribbles in constant miniature rivers out of Peter’s mouth, squeezed from each corner. Soon he is kneeling in a small pool of the stuff. I know that as soon as I cum for real, that I will experience a vital growth spurt. How much I grow depends on how well Peter succeeds at pleasing me. Part 2 And so, Peter continues to please me, for as I’ve already mentioned, he is my favorite. I often think about how much more pleasing to me he would be if he were in possession of muscles as huge and powerful as mine. But I cannot allow anyone to get as big as me. I must be the biggest and the strongest. Peter has this trick he does when sucking off my huge cock. We only discovered he could do it less than a month ago. LeStrange is a little concerned that his utopian muscle studs have begun to evolve in ways other than muscular development. So far Peter is the only one to undergo the merest metamorphosis, but can it be put down to radiation leaking into the vaults through some hairline fracture in the superstructure? Peter has a bifurcate tongue... like a snake’s, but he can also zip it up to look and act like a normal tongue. But now... now I want the snake in his mouth to do amazing things to the super-serpent that is my monster dick. “Time to slither that fucker in, you delicious young hunkling,” I gasp and snarl all at once, my bliss ever rising to near fever pitch. “Anything for you, amazing man,” Peter returns, also gasping. He unzips his tongue, the tip dividing into two prong-like appendages. He can do great things with these. He withdraws most of my thick, wet cock from his capacious mouth, but not all the way, concentrating his efforts on the bulbous head, and specifically the slit through which magic is wont to flow. At first, he teases the sensitive mushroom head, expertly manipulating it between the fleshy ‘limbs’ of his split tongue with great care and expertise. Every muscle in my body is flexed to near-bursting point. I need to hold in every pump I’ve given my muscles during my recent workouts. My body is like no other; my muscles can remain pumped for up to a week at a time. But then, knowing my lust for muscle-growth, I need to build on those held-in pumps, flexing further, harder, and stronger, lifting heavier and heavier all the time for short reps: pumps on top of fucking pumps. Think of the best orgasm you ever had in your life... then multiply that feeling by fifty and THAT’S what it feels like to be me with muscles more pumped than an entire football team before the game, or even holding in pressure greater than a volcano that threatens to erupt but never quite manages it. I am a volcano of muscle, but only Peter can really make me blow my top. “Unnnngh.... sooooooo gooood, Peter.... rape my muscle cock with your amazing tongue,” I yell. Okay, so some of you might think: ewwww, what a terrible image. But Peter can make poetry out of a funeral dirge, trust me on this. He handles me expertly, with unprecedented loyalty. He is irrevocably bonded to me. He lives for me.... he would surely give his life to grow me further. One of the tongue-splits gently works itself into the slit of my cock, exciting nerve-endings that cause my entire body to shudder and then stiffen into a palsy of pain and bliss rolled into one. When your body is subjected to both sensations at once, madness may result, only my mind can make sense of both paroxysms, manipulating them, bending them to my will, so that within seconds I am feeling the greatest sexual high ever felt by a living creature. Peter’s tongue works into me further. Now I am violated, only I want it so much. I know that I shall erupt not only with insane amounts of hot, sweet jism, but my muscles shall grow like they’ve never grown before. I know this, and so does Peter. When I get big enough and strong enough, I will be able to break us all out of this maddening isolation and eventually rejoin the ADAM society as we were meant to. We were never meant to remain out of the equation for so long. Peter is excited; I can feel his excitement thundering through his taut, beautiful flesh and into me. I welcome it. I also welcome the feeling of my massive balls swelling so huge inside their skin sack so that the skin is stretched so tight it shines. My gonads swell and throb bigger than baseballs, and all the while they do - still with his bifurcate tongue doing incredible things to the tip of my cock - Peter’s expert fingers massage and fondle my balls with complete lack of restraint. No place for restraint here, not when I’m about to achieve the greatest muscle growth of my life. I can feel it elevating, inflating inside me almost like a separate persona about to overwhelm the real me. So what if I lose to it... that my muscles should become the dominant power in my life. I don’t care.... I just want to get huger than I could ever have dreamed possible. It’s about to happen, I can feel myself swelling, thickening, and getting taller, wider, and heavier. Oh man, this is incredible. I’m going to get HUUUUGE!!!!!! Peter removes my cock from his mouth just seconds before I blow my massive load. He knows that if he doesn’t take care he could get injured from the intensity of the blast, I’m that strong. He gets out of the way and begins to play with his cock in anticipation of the spectacle we both know is about to happen. I scream out, unable to contain my bliss as every muscle in my body unites in a tremendous spasm that powers the flow of my cum-blast. Out of my hugely stimulated cock, a jet of hot, steaming spunk erupts and shoots across the room. The jet strikes a metal locker on the far side of the room with force enough to dent it inwards. The force of the collision sends cum splashing in all directions. The mess shall be considerable. The orgasm seems ceaseless, the gush of my juice without end. Every time I cum like this, there seems to be more and more of the stuff, as my ability to hold onto the orgasm improves with every emission. I can cum for ages if I need to. I need to now. Peter, too, is desperate to cum, but I have taught him to hold it in unless I command him to erupt. Caught up in my own incredible orgasm, I cannot be concerned about what he is feeling at this time, but I can imagine it can’t be pleasant for him... pleasure and pain all at once (welcome to my world), the desperate need to shoot his own load, only I will not allow it... not yet. He will cum when I reach the pinnacle of my growth cycle... ...which is about to happen... I am engulfed in a rush of heat, my orgasm still raging through me and out of me, every surface in my domicile getting sticky with my liquid protein. For a moment I do not like the feeling, because I liken it to someone’s head exploding from too much of a blood-pressure build-up. So, I placate this feeling with expert mental manipulation... once again tapping into the amazing power of my ever-developing brain. No place for mental dormancy here... not in this utopia. Ah, but the true utopia of man’s utter survival and future can be epitomized and given a body by my tremendous powers of transformation. Once the heat subsides in my body, all my muscles, veins, arteries, organs, even skin, everything that I am: my utmost fabric, throbs and groans as everything shifts and swells. My growth isn’t a gradual stream of growth either. It happens in multi-spurts, powered by dominant heartbeats. My growth happens to all my muscles simultaneously. I don’t just grow... I fucking EXPLODE!!!!!! A nearby computer scans me as I grow... my vitals and measurements project onto my body in scintillating red laser characters, cast out of several spherical beam emitters that hover almost invisibly around me. My chest expands massively, the bones of my ribcage cracking and stretching with newfound pliability as they move out in every direction to make room for more and more growth. My pecs blow up like feeding amoebae, gorged on matter greater than their starving masses can comfortably accommodate. My pecs glut on growth and power, laser-cast numerals etch across my skin in bold crimson relief: “74 inches” .... “76 inches” ... “81 inches” .... like a neon tickertape, one that can barely keep up with my searing, soaring growth. “Uhh, the feeling is amazing,” I gasp, my body seething, sweating, palpitating with metamorphic power. All the while I grow, Peter continues to moan with reverie of his own, although he shall not falter and succumb to cumming until I say it’s okay to do so. Our bond is unbreakable... it cannot be denied. I also realize that I am becoming smarter, my command of syntax and structure improving all the time. Below my ever-deepening, ever-thickening overweight pecs, crescent moons of darkest shadow are cast, growing longer and downwards, hiding some of the thick cobblestone mosaic formed of my ab-bellies. To some they would be dismayed that one massive muscle group should so blatantly swell to conceal the magnitude of another, but in this case, I welcome it. My favorite muscles will always be my pecs, and so I want them bigger, heavier, way more defined, and with striations deep enough to hide one of Peter’s ever-roaming hands. Laser beams fire diminishing measurements across the brickwork of my stomach, numbers ‘ticker-taping’ in decreasing increments in contrast to the ever-increasing dimensions occurring elsewhere across my incredible and hyper-sexy jizzed-out physique: “36 inches” … “34 inches” ... “33 inches”. My waist now stabilizes at a waspish 32 inches. I could not be happier, more fucking boned by my unprecedented measurements. But even as my waist tightens, so my ab bricks become harder, denser, the laser light rising and dipping as it travels across my abdomen, occasionally being swallowed up by the deep and dark gullies separating each belly from its brothers, only to reappear bright and bold across my glistening, musky skin. I flex my abs and intercostals, tightening my waist further. Veins erupt across my stomach, my Apollo’s belt thickening and deepening to mesmerizing proportions, now festooned with highways of interconnecting vessels through which protein-charged blood, testosterone and adrenaline mix and surge. I momentarily gasp at the new size, weight, and thickness of my muscle-tits. “Puh-pleeese, Todd.... let me cum.... I (gasp)... cannot maintain it much longer,” appeals Peter. But I am resolute in my command of him. He will cum only when I allow it. As I play with the heft and depth of my pecs, I tease out my nips, tweaking them hard so that they expand, thicken and surge hugely on the massive balloon-pecs to which they provide crowning glory. As I grow faster and faster, completely caught up in the ecstasy of my evolution, I squeeze the hulkish brutes of my breast muscles together, forcing the striations across each to deepen and darken... more blood coursing into every tissue fiber, and my nips to grow huger, thicker, twice the circumference of a man’s thumb. I want more growth.... “More......I want MORE!!!!!!!!!!! RAAAAWWWWWR!!!!” My exultation is almost pantomime in its delivery, for it, too, is an empowerment, one that shall fuel my growth further and further. I crab down into a most muscular, forcing more and more growth and nourishment into my muscles, now my arms more so. The laser light numerals dwell on my biceps for a time, recoding their increase in size as I flex them into the biggest muscle-balls a man shall ever sport... until I decide I want them even bigger again.... “38 inches” … “41 inches” … “46 inches” ... FIFTY FUCKING INCHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My arms are now bigger than my thighs were before my growth; my forearms now almost match the width of my thighs at the outset of this transformation. I squeeze out more definition and size, leaning into the flexing, so that my vast bodyweight pushes against the muscle growth, causing even more of a growth reaction. The muscles of my legs heave and ripple with the most effortless of exertions. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, delighting at the feeling of how easily my legs take my weight as it shifts left to right. I want more and more.... this is incredible. It must NEVER end, not if I stand a chance at bodybuilding my way out of this annex. And then, even as I struggle to see over the massive promontory that has become of my chest wall, I can feel as well as just about make out, the awesome expansion of my monster dick. The scanners are struggling to keep up with recording my fast and furious muscle growth. And there is more to explore, but as the computer shuts down into diagnostic mode to reboot, I know that I am still not done with growing, not by a massive amount yet. “Have to.... cuh-cum, Tuh-Todd,” tears now streaming from the eyes of an imploring Peter. I could do with an infusion of protein right about now... to further fuel my growth. I lick my lips in yearning anticipation. “Come to me.... CUM into me!!!!!” I command. And so, he tends to me as I continue to increase in size and weight and awesome muscularity. My weight has exceeded 1000 lbs., but I still feel small, even though I now tower over the one who is most bonded to me. As I hulk out a hundred more pounds of thick, manly muscle onto my gigantic bodybuilder’s frame, I effortlessly pick up Peter, feeling him to be weightless in my hands, I’m now THAT strong. As his body begins to jerk from the spasms of orgasm, I lift his stiff, engorged prick to my hungry lips and taste of the sweet juice he is powerless to keep as his own. ******************************** This is all there is. I don't know if this was meant to be the first part of a longer story, or if it was meant to be a "cum quickie" and end here. I think it works well as it stands.
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You should stop. You know how wrong it is. You know the consecuences very well. You know this will change you forever. You know nothing is changing you back. But your mind has been decided. ... You were always an average guy. Average body, average life, etc. The only thing that wasn't average was how arousing muscles on men were for you. You always wanted to grow that big, that massive. Have everyone worship you, feel all that muscle over as their hands caressed every crevice of your massive body. Or also having one of those muscle gods dominate you in every way, their huge, muscular bodies for you to touch and worship, their thick gods inside of you as they flexed for themselves. But you never could grow much at all, no matter how hard you tried. So you resigned yourself to your average life. That is, until you recieved a message from a coworker, telling you a secret spring out of town that could make all of your dreams come true. He told you the place seemed to be cursed though, and that people that were to look for it never returned, but he also said it was just some scary legend. Not having anything to lose, you go to the place on a weekend, your friend having given you a map of it. "Hmm...here it is." The place was a, indeed, a natural spring, hidden well enough inside the forest that you were surprised nobody had found it. But you felr something else was afoot. The road there was completely nonsensical, and even with the map you were sure you got lost at least thrice. Not wanting to waste any more time, though, you quickly lose your shirt and pants, leaving the speedo you were wearing on, and take a step into the spring. To your surprise, it wasn't cold at all, it was at the perfect tempetature, to the point it barely felt as if you were inside. Walking deeper and deeper, you eventually sit yourself on one of the rocks, the water reaching your belly. You didn't know exactly what would happen, but your friend did told you to just come and swim in here. Maybe he just wanted you to have a clear head after such a stressful week? "...Mmf?" Your thoughts get interrupted, though, when you feel your cock get tighter in your speedo. Weird. You weren't really hard right now, and yet it definitely felt tighter. Before you could do anything, though, the same sensation spread to the rest of your body. "W-what the-" Your arms, they felt much, much more tighter, as if they had just been through an intense workout. And, right in front of you, they started swelling in size, thicker and longer. "Holy fuck! Mmf!" The sensation intensified, slowly becoming quite pleasant, almost pleasurable. Your chest followed with the growth, your pecs growing and expanding in size, becoming quite heavier and firm, veins appearing through them. Even your own nipples started to grow in size, becoming longer. "T-this is insane..." You almost couldn't believe how big you were becoming. Slowly, and hesitantly, you bring your new grown arm to your pecs, rubbing them, and feeling how strong they were. You pinch one of your nipples, which used to be the less sensitive part of your body. Yet the moment you do, a loud moan leaves your mouth. It felt no different than gripping the head of your cock. The sudden rush of pleasure made you fall deeper into the spring, now up to your neck, and while panting, you noticed the changes continue, the sensation in your speedo intensifying once more, and your height growing considerably. Your cock was growing, now fully hard, and was trying it's best to free itself from it's speedo prison. Your once flat belly grew an 8-pack, bits of hair appearing through it and on your still massive pecs. Your pits weren't safe, either, hair growing on them at a fast rate. Through the water, you could see it. It stretching the fabric of your speedo, slowly yet surely bulging, throbbing, and growing. Along with it your legs followed, expanding in size the same way your arms just did. The sight made you pant with need. With all hesitation out of the window, you pinch your nipples as hard as you can. Twisting them, pulling them, rubbing them. It was as if your nipples were now cocks, they released a white, thick substance, definitely cum, begging to be worshipped at all times, and your actual cock really liked the pleasure. "Fuck...fuck...more, more!" Your nipple worshipping sent your body into overdrive, a strange heat sipping through. The growth intensified. Your already big arms doubled in size, your biceps becoming bigger than your head. Your pecs grew once more, almost raising your head and shallowing it completely. Your back also wasn't forgotten among these changes, your traps pushing your head onwards as your back kept expanding and dividing. A part of you thought this was becoming much more than you bargained for. If you grew any more, you would be a freak! But it felt so good...how could it be bad? How could it be wrong? "O-ooooh..." The flicker of panic is drowned by what comes next, your cock had already been leaking pre for a while, but the sudden growth made it shoot once, twice, thrice. Each time rising it higher and higher from the water, until it was floating in front of you, as big and thick as a long, yet still throbbing. You were producing pre as if it were cum, coming so close to cumming, and yet your own body was teasing you and holding you back. Panting, your hands still trying to rub your nipples, you slowly thrust your hips upwards, the movement against the speedo sending wave after wave of pleasure through you. The growth continued down your ass, becoming thicker, bigger, and stronger, and helping push the speedo to it's limits. Your ass was clearly becoming much kore sensitive, too, as rubbing against the surface was sending shivers all around. "I'm...i'm..." You were in heaven. You had never felt so much pleasure, so much stimulation, in all of your life. The throbbing, leaking cock, becoming bigger and bigger, more and more sensitive, the tight and pleasurable feeling of growth all over your body, your pecs, almost trapping your head in a prison of sweat and musk, your nipples, no different than a pair of fat cockheads now, intensifying the growth, your biceps, bigger than your own head, being clear shows of your power, your ass, the ass of a true muscle god, being so sensitive to the touch... "GRAAAAAAAH!" With a loud ripping sound, the speedo came undone, your cock was set free, and the release was strong enough to send your balls into overdrive. And so, you came. With the force of a natural geyser, sending the thickest load you've ever seen into the sky, falling right back into the spring. The growth had finally stopped, but this wasn't all of it. No, far from it. Your balls were still quite full, and your cock was still begging for release. "Hehe...so fucking hot..." Barely even needing to lift yourself, you grab your cock, it's massive veins and throbbing making you lick your lips. You thrust your hips again while stroking it in a rhythmical fashion, and your cock happily obliged, shooting again and again into the air, bathing you and the spring in your white, manly seed. Each load felt better than the last one, moans unable to be kept away, you fondling your nipples with your free hand. This was your paradise. You lost track of time, but by the time your balls were empty, the sun was already setting. Your soft cock lay down, sinking under the water and back to between your legs. The spring looked quite smaller than before, and the raw smell of sex and sweat replaced the natural smell it had. You were sure the spring was more cum than water at this point, and the idea made you chuckle in pride. Even so, you couldn't stay there. Rising up from the water, you take a better look at your body. You really had become a muscle god, each crevice of your body was now perfect, and you couldn't help but show off with a double bicep pose. Your hairy pits smelt of musky sweat, and you couldn't help but smile at that. Your cock got hard again, ignoring the hours you spent emptying your grown balls. You softly stroked it, conflicting thoughts in your head. "Should I, really? It's already so late. If it becomes night, I may get pretty lost...but...it feels so...good" Leaving out a needy moan, your lust snd greed win, once more walking into the spring, a smile on your face. Sitting once more in one of the rocks inside the spring, water reaching your pecs, you start stroking, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. It was much, much stronger than before. As if hundred hands were working on each of your body's weak spots. As if our own body became a sexual weak spot. "Oooooh....fuuuuuck..." You even went as far as fingering yourself, your anus so sensitive a single touch send shivers down your spine. "Fuuuuck yeaaaaah...Don't stop this feeling, ever..." You were so focused you didn't noticed when the entrance to the spring had disappeared, covered by rocks, as if it was never there. "So fucking horny...so much muscle...oh fuck..." You kept stroking and cumming, stroking and cumming, the growth slow but certain, your mind so deep in pleasure nothing else mattered. Your kissed your biceps and pulled your nipples. You fingered your ass and, as long as if it was, even dared to suck your own cock. "Please...more...Never enough...I don't want it to stop..." You didn't noticed when the night turned to day, when the days started passing. You didn't noticed when people started looking for you. You didn't noticed when the spring had become mostly your cum, drinking it and bathing on it, only intensifying your own endless pleasure. You didn't noticed when the growth had stopped. Only one word was able to come out between your endless moans of lust and need. "More..."
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Long time lurker. First time posting a short story of my own. Enjoy ____________________________________ "Damn it..." Ian was working out on a treadmill in his city's gym. A disappointed expression in his eyes. He was a scrawny, 5'6 feet tall guy, weighing around 120 lbs. He didn't wanted to be so short and without any visible muscle. He wanted to be huge, BIGGER than huge. A masculine beast that everyone will notice and worship. Sadly, no matter how much he tried, his body refused to build any muscle, and over the years he has just gotten even scrawnier and punier. "Fuck man, I wish I could grow bigger..." Getting off the treadmill, he decides to walk outside for a breath of fresh air. Walking to the door, he notices every man in the gym being either highly concentrated in their training, or flexing for themselves in the mirror. Which makes him both aroused and jealous. But while standing outside and stretching a bit, something falls on top of him, covering him from head to toe. "W-what the hell?" He looks to the sky, but it was completely clear. And whatever fell on him felt sticky and gooey. It reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite remember what. Going inside the gym again, he was gonna go straight to the showers to rinse this strange thing off, but the time he came back, his body had completely absorbed it. He couldn't do nothing but stare at where the thing was, but not wanting to overthink, he simply went back to the treadmill. That's when it began. After a few minutes, he began filling a warm and itchy feeling all over his body, forcing him to get off the treadmill again. "What is...h-huh?!" In front of him, his body starts growing. First his previously puny chest, expanding onwards, pushing the shirt to it's limits. Then his arms, ballooning into giant biceps, filling with pound after pound of muscle, the sound of his bones rearranging and his muscles growing being heard through the whole area. Eventually, his shirt completely rips, freeing his still growing pecs from their prison, their "sweat" falling unto the floor as gravity made its job. "My-my pecs...what the...god, this feels so..." a moan leaves his lips. The feeling of his muscles growing feeling just as if he was edging an orgasm. He had already started getting glances from the people in the gym, curious about what was going on. But that's when the transformation continued, his flat belly turning a rock hard six pack, then a 8 pack, followed by his legs, growing in size and muscle, becoming thick enough to rival tree trunks, making rips into his pants until they soon, fall. With longer legs also increases his height, turning slowly from 5,5 to 5,9, then 6,3, then 6,7. His ass became a bubble butt, inflating in size to a fast speed, sending the jockstrap into him. He also started gaining body hair, gaining a beard in the process, and his pecs and abs becoming hairy. Ian thought he was dreaming, and if he was, he didn't wanted it to end. Standing now there only with a jockstrap, he had gone from a twig to a muscular, powerful man. Everyone in the gym had stares only for him. Many of fear, many of curiosity, and even a few filled with lust. He flexes right there, the feeling of his own muscles pressing against each other intoxicating his mind even more. He wa also completely sweating, the smell of man going through the whole gym. Ian thought he was already perfect. But leaving out a painful moan, he realizes that his cock and balls also wanted to be set free. Faster than the rest of his body, his cock starts throbbing in his jockstrap, pushing it down, and eventually setting itself free, slamming against Ian's leg. It was throbbing, pulsating, veins covering it completely, and slowly reaching to the floor. His balls were also growing along with it, becoming sensitive to the touch. "T-this is so much...but..." And that's when he reaches the point of no return. As if his hand was glued to his cock, he starts stroking it, panting in ecstasy, as he falls to his knees and watches in real time as it starts growing, and with it, the rest of his body. His cock soon became thicker than his already bigger hand, and slowly approaching his mouth, before he decided to grab it with his two hands, jerking faster, moving his hips along with it. He was trapped on his own world of lust, the men of the gym taking off their already light clothes jerk off to the sight, overcome with lust. Closer to climaxing, and his head almost reaching the ceiling of the place as his growth intensified, barely being able to move to his biceps becoming too big... He cums. A roar releasing his seed into all the surroundings, his cock shooting volley after volley of thick sperm, shooting random bystanders, and even the very ceiling. The absolute pleasure of his orgasm made the final step of his growth began, and like a broken faucet, the strength of his cum intensified, his dick becoming bigger, thicker, volleys of cum covering the whole gym, men affected by it starting to suck it, becoming big in the same way. Ian's mind was slowly disappearing, being replaced by the desire to grow even bigger, fuck all day, and and cum again and again. The simple thought was enough to make his stream of cum even stronger, now lying on a pool of his own cum that his worshippers were sucking to grow. His muscles were growing to such a rate that his movement was starting to become limited, his balls churning his unlimited seed into his massive cock. Yet he didn't cared. He wanted to grow bigger. "More...Please...MORE..." This command changes something in Ian. And suddenly, he breaks through the gym, his gigantic cock growing into the sky, spewing his seed everywhere like a fountain, the streets becoming rivers of his own cum as he starts growing past buildings and skyscrapers. Worshippers came to him, transformed by his cum, and did their best to pleasure the giant god as he kept growing and growing. Eventually, he stopped getting taller at the height of a skyscraper, but his muscles kept growing still, his head threatening to be shallowed by his traps at any seconds. Yet even then...Ian wanted more. He got a taste of godhood, now he wanted it all. He wanted to turn this world into a neverending orgy. He wanted to show his true power. Growing bigger than the city, a mountain, and and now standing on top of the world...Ian came. And came, and came. The seas turned to white, societies were destroyed by his cum tsunami, people transformed into hyper men looking to grow and fuck 24/7. Ian stood at the top of the world. He was the god of this world now, and the world was nothing more than his playground. A neverending orgy of pure masculinity, sweat, and sex, as everyone swam through his cum, people climbing into his body to worship him. This is what Ian wanted. And yet a thought still remained in his broken mind. "More..." The planet rumbled, unprepared for his next ascension. ---------- END OF PART 1 Tell me your thoughts on this or if you liked it.
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The Bull's Bucket The sun was rising over Mathew Acres farm as John, a shy and slim 20 year old horse, walked up to the barn for his first day of work. John had been hired to go into the farm every morning at sunrise and milk a bull named “Fulbon.” John had no idea how you could even milk a bull, but he was told the instructions were in the barn. All he knows for a fact is that he was told to wear clothes that can get messy, because it was a messy job. He knew he would be working in a barn, so he expected the standard barn mess, but he wondered why the messy part was pointed out. He assumed the farmer was just being cautious and continued walking to the barn. The barn was an average looking barn, basically what you imagine when you hear the word, but the smell was a bit different. It didn't smell like a barn… it smelled like a gym locker room. He smelled the same musky manly smell he used to smell in the high school locker room. Every time the wind blew, his nose felt like it was dug deep in football uniforms. The smell of musk got stronger as John opened the barn doors. On the left was a door labeled “closet” with a row of large stables next to it. He noticed one stable had leather hanging from it, the leather looked like the arm assist used in a gym to hold your arms as you did pull ups. On the right was another set of stalls the same size as the ones on the left. Only the right stalls had no leather hanging down. It was only the one stall on the left that had the arm rests. John walked in and looked for the stall labeled “Fulbon.” The stall he was looking for was the stall with the arm rest hanging down. The leather arm rests hung about ¼ of the way from the roof of the barn to the floor. He wondered why they were there as he walked up to the stall. The bull was sleeping in the right corner under a large black comforter type blanket found on the top of beds in hotels. The blanket was bulky and covered the bull’s body well. As John approached the door of the stall, he noticed a defining curve in the center of the bull’s body curving up out of the blanket. John assumed this was a casual pillow or awkward fold in the blanket. John looked around the barn and couldn’t find any clue as to what to do. He leaned over the stall door and looked for some sign of instructions. As he leaned in, the door moved an inch forward quickly and loudly. The bull under the blanket woke up to the banging door. John stepped back, worried about what the bull would say. “Are you the new milker,” the bull asked in an intimidating voice filled with frustration. John quietly nooded. “Thank GOD!” the bull smiled and said “the last one was terrible!” “I’m sorry about that,” John said, being polite. “He would always jerk me around like I did something to him... he just wanted to finish and go. Jokes on him though I never gave him all I could anyway.” John stared at Fulbon. “You,” he asked him. Fulbon raised his eyebrow to John and asked him “what did you think you were doing here?” “I thought I would be looking for a bull named Filbon who was going to help me with the milking, maybe he would relax the cows I was milking, I’m not sure.” Fulbon moved the blanket off of himself and stood up. “You’re milking me,” Fulbon said. John looked down at the bull’s male parts that created the bulge he thought was a wrinkle in the blanket. The testicals hung down just above his knees like ripe fruit from a tree, the shaft of the bull looked like a tree limb curving out of his body and down with a head just above where the balls hung. “What?” John knew what the bull said, but internally he wanted the bull to say he was kidding. “Every day I need my seed to be drained so that the seed I make stays as fresh as possible. I need someone to make sure everything is flowing smoothly and to make sure they get everything they can.” John stood there and felt a small blush of excitement. The bull’s male parts looked extremely smooth and soothing, and he could already imagine the wet girth in his hands. “You want me to make you cum,” John asked just to be sure the bull was being serious. “Until I tell you I’m dry, yes. Your job is to fill up the bucket until I tell you I’m all dried up.” John looked around for the bucket but didn’t see anything. “Check the closet,” Fulbon said as he stretched his body trying to wake himself up. John walked over to the closet door and opened it to see a normal looking closet of barn equipment. He looked around the closet until he saw the only bucket in the back corner, which looked like the white paint was peeling off. He grabbed it and walked back to Fulbon’s stall. “Is this it,” he asked. “The one soaked in dry seamen, yes” he told John. “This is all you,” John asked, fascinated that the bull in front of him could make that much liquid. “I’m impressed,” John said, opening the stall door. “It's what bulls do” Fulbon told him, shaking his balls around with his left hand. John set the bucket down in front of Fulbon and asked; ‘What now?” Fulbon put his elbows in the arm rest and flexed his cock to signal that it was time for the milking. John stared at Fulbon’s body, looking over his tone legs and stomach like an art exhibit. John got down on both knees to the side of the bull cock and grabbed it on the end. John started running his hands from the bottom of his cock to about half way, applying just enough pressure to make a soft sloping noise. “Not bad,” Fulbon told him. John smiled as he continued his rubbing motions. He stood there on his knees watching this beautiful cock spring to life in his hands. He could feel the blood dripping in through the thick tendons of Fulbon. For several moments John caressed the warm log in his hands, paying close attention to remain calm both internally and externally. Fulbon didn’t want to admit it this early, but he was honestly enjoying John’s hands. He felt his meat cramp up as John rubbed the bottom half of his cock with such gentleness that Fulbon felt like he was getting a special treatment. Fulbon wanted to mean, he wanted to let go of the pleasure building up in his voice. He also didn’t want John to hear the groans and get arrogant and change what he was doing. Before John came along, he was used to his cock being thrown around like a frisbee in the hands of his previous milker. The only reason he ever climaxed before was to give the milker something to work with. He gave the previous milker as little as possible to encourage the milker to quit. That tactic finally worked when John showed up. Now that John’s soothing hands were caring for his cock, Fulbon thought he would have a true climax today. He was willing to give John everything he could brew if John kept milking him like this. “How’s this,” John asked him without ever losing concentration. When Fulbon opened his mouth to talk, the moan he was holding back belted out all at once. John didn’t jump at all. John simply paused his caresing for a moment and looked up to ask “to much?” “Actually that’s perfect, I don’t remember the last time my shaft was loved by hands this gentle.” John looked back down at the meat in front of his face and said; “I just want you to spill as much seed as possible, and I want you to enjoy it too. Plus, I’m extracting your seed the same way I extract my own seed.” Fulbon laughed and asked “and how do you do that?” “I don’t force the seamen out… I rub myself calmly as I think about another man being in bed with me and the cum just naturally flows out.” Fulbon grinned and said; “Smart. I can see you have a lot of experience with tending to meat.” John tightened his grip but kept the same speed and said “I guess so. I’ve seen a million ways to tend to meat and i've tried them all… by myself at least. I’ve never laid down with anyone.” John felt a brief moment of jealousy and loneliness as he rubbed the bull’s meat. The first time he touched another man’s cock was for a job. He thought about what this meat in his hands would look like spread out on his bed. Fulbon could see the sinking spirits of John and felt bad for him. John was a decent guy who was hard working and knew how to operate another man’s machine. “I’ll tell you what,” Fulbon said. John slowed his rubbing down and looked up at Fulbon. “You’re a cool guy and you’ve never been with anyone else. I’ve been with countless lovers before, and all of them were too violent to enjoy or wouldn’t stop talking, usually both were true. Even outside this milking stand my lovers have been a pain to deal with. You’re the first one I’ve enjoyed… or even respected for that matter. If you tell the farmer you need to come back tonight to try milking me again, because you couldn’t get much out of me today, he’ll let you come back anytime after dark. Just warn him you’re coming so you don’t spook him and you can walk right up here. I’ll be waiting.” John blushed and asked “what about the milk from right now? Won’t he know you’ve already given me your milk today?” “Good point,” Fulbon answered. He then suggested “only fill it up a fraction of the way. Hand him the bucket of what I gave you and tell him this was everything, then say you want to try again at sunset.” “Good idea,” John said as he picked up his movements where he left off. He continued the same movements for a few more strokes then said “let’s try something else.” john took his hands off of the shaft stood up to stretch his legs and arms. As he did that, Fulbon stared at the horse who supprised him with how good he was at his new job. As Fulbon looked at John, he noticed a curve crawling down his left leg. Fulbon felt bad for John because he thought John was hard as a rock and secretly needed release. Fulbon didn’t know how to bring it up, but he didn;t want to be the only one enjoying himself. “Enjoying this,” he asked John. John continued stretching and said “Absolutely! I can’t believe you haven’t cum yet.” “I’m getting there. I takes bigger loads longer to come out.” John nodded in agreement and blushed again. Fulbon then looked back down at the curve in John’s pants and said “speaking of loads coming out, you can loosen up that grip on your pants. I actually find it hotter when the milker’s cock is out too. Plus it feels less awkward.” “You’re sure?” as much as John was enjoying it, he only saw this as a job, and was worried about looking unprofessional. “Don’t worry,” Fulbon assured him, “the farmer never comes up here during the milking, and no one else ever comes either. Until the farmer sees you with that bucket, he stays far away, he doesn't want to risk seeing the process. John trusted Fulbon’s words and took off his shirt. He threw the shirt to the back corner of the barn and took off his shoes and socks, throwing them in the same pile. “I’ve heard a lot about horses,” Fulbon said watching John unzip his pants. As the zipper slid down, John’s long bump in his pants grew a little longer, then popped out of the pant leg and straight out infront of him. “I want to see if it’s true!” “I’ll let you decide.” John put his pants in the same pile and turned back to Fulbon who was still as hard as he’s been all day. John slid the underwear down, kneeling as he did so. When the underwear was at his feet, John stood up and put his hands on either side of his hips. Fulbon knew John was no athlete, which was made obvious by his thin body, but Fulbon was still shocked to see that John's cock was only a few inches shorter with about the same girth. “It’s not true,” Fulbon sarcastically said. Before John could say anything back, Fulbon said “you’re even bigger than I expected. I’m really going to need a taste later.” “Don’t have to tell me twice,” John admitted. He got back down on his knees, but this time he was directly in front of the bull’s shaft. The tube in the center of the bull cock was staring him right in the face like a one eyed snake. John reached his arms out and grabbed one of Fulbon’s testicals in each hand. He played with the thick and round fruit of the bull and shoved his face into the round head. He stuck his tongue out inside of the cock and licked his innerer tube. Fulbon couldn’t help himself any more. This wasn’t just the first time this move was being done on him, but he was doing it so well too. Fulbon groaned and told John “I’m really close.” John didn’t say anything, mostly because his mouth was suffocated against a bull’s meat. John heard Fulbon, and started squeezing the seedful fruit harder. He tossed them around in his grip as if he were trying to shake something out of them. Thanks to his strong grip, John could feel the cramping in his testicles. The sensation of feeling a bull’s seamen about to erupt made him drip cum a little himself. His hands were nowhere near his own seed sack, yet his sperm were starting to swim out anyway. John, lost in the moment, pulled his mouth out of the cock tube and started licking the head like candy. John was still licking the head and teasing the balls when the first squirt hit him in the face. The small load of cum splattered on his right cheek. When John felt this, he moved to the side of Fulbon where he first started and continued using both hands to shake the bull’s fruit. This method produced a few squirts of pre into the bucket, but he knew this wasn’t all his balls were holding. John then experimented with a new strategy and treated Fulbon’s testicals like an udder and squeezed them up and down. One white river lasting two seconds gracefully fell into the bucket. John watched the stream as he squeezed Fulbon’s balls, hypnotized by the shiny and white flow coming out of the other end. John slowed his squeezing and paid close attention to the folds of skin and veins in his hands. This method released a few more rivers of seamen into the bucket. “Keep going!” Fulbon clenched his teeth and opened his legs, trying to get the biggest possible load he could make. “I can still feel more down there!” John kept his hands squeezing the bull’s testicals and moved his head up against the lower curve of the sack. He started licking the curves between the testicals and pressed his tongue in the valley between the two balls. Fulbon and his seamen both felt John’s tongue exploring the underside of his balls. The intense pleasure was enough to send his climax over the edge. Fulbon sprayed a highly pressured stream with more force than his other two cum rivers combined. The white waterfall made a straight line with no slack directly into the bucket. He stood there and sprayed like a can of violent silly string. This agressive ejeculation lasted for a little over a minute. The entire minute, John was underneath Fulbon stimulating the seed as much as he could. The cum river faded into a few drops as the remaining sperm dripped out of his cock. Finally, he couldn’t feel any more milk in his sack. Fulbon looked down to see the bucket of his milk only centimeters away from the top. “I’m done,” Fulbon told John. John got out from under Fulbon’s testicals and looked at the nearly full bucket. The site of the collection of cum made John dump a few loads of cum himself. The site of another man’s seed made his seed want a taste.
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