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Finally. I’d been looking forward to this all day. Gym time. It wasn’t so much that I was desperate to hit the weights or do some cardio, but I knew he’d be there. I’d managed to figure out his schedule and got mine to work around it. Not easy but the pay off was worth it. I know. I sound like a stalker, but no one knows. It’s my little secret. My little present to myself at the end of a long, hard day. My time to retreat into my own private world. My chance to admire from afar. My chance to dream, to fantasize about events that never could be. He was straight as they come. You can always tell can’t you. Can’t you? He wasn’t even my usual type, and yet somehow, inexplicably, I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Powerless to resist the pull he had over me. He exuded a raw, masculine energy. An unfinished product, a rough diamond, yet I couldn’t imagine him any other way. Irresistible. I felt my pupils dilate, my pulse quicken the second I laid eyes on him. Tall, powerful. He didn’t bother with fancy gym gear, he looked like he’d come straight from a day on the building site. He wasn’t the biggest guy in the gym, but he had the kind of body that could only be earned by hard manual labour. It was easy to picture him manhandling big sacks of cement, piles of bricks or handfuls of scaffolding poles and making it look effortless. He strode purposefully across the gym, everyone seemed to get out of the way as his heavy, scuffed work boots stomped across the floor. Half unlaced, revealing his grubby socks that made a perfect backdrop to his big, hairy calves. He was ruggedly handsome. I wondered how it would feel to have that stubbled face rubbing against mine, what those surprisingly soft, luscious looking lips would taste like, how would it feel to nibble on them? Then, as always, my eyes were drawn totally beyond my control to his shorts. Oh those shorts and the treasure that dwelt therein. He never bothered with underwear and those grey shorts, those tatty, stained, cement spattered divine grey shorts left nothing to the imagination. Every inch of that thick, veiny shaft and that glorious mushroom head clearly visible through the material. It was almost hypnotic watching that huge dick swinging as he moved around with the easy confidence of a man who truly didn’t give a fuck. Much as I would have loved to just sit and watch in wonder I did actually have to do something while I was in the gym. I tried to strategically position myself so I could get glimpses of the object of my desire. He was stronger that he looked and I could feel myself stirring as he casually loaded up more plates than I could ever hope to shift. I’d drifted off briefly into fantasy land, flat on my back on the bench press when I became aware of a presence looming over me. It was him. I tried to fight all that blood rushing to my groin as I looked up, that epic bulge mere inches from my face, the big, burly builder towering over me like some kind of giant. I swear I could smell the musk coming from his balls, feel the heat coming from those big thighs, making my face flush read and beard of sweat break out on my forehead. I felt the power of speech leave my body as he asked me if I needed a spot, instead only able to nod dumbly and hope I didn’t look like an overexcited puppy. Somehow I managed to get through a couple of sets although it was difficult to focus, being so close to the very thing I’d been craving. My mouth was watering with every rep, his big dick right in my field of vision, so close to my face it was almost touching me, feeling enveloped by his presence. I hoped I’d managed to disguise my lust, but the look on his face as I racked the bar for the last time told me otherwise. He had a kind of cocky smirk that I wasn’t sure was good or bad. We locked eyes for a few brief moments, and, no words needed, I knew he wanted me to follow him into the changing room. I still didn’t know if this was good or bad, but my legs moved anyway and I followed him into the empty room to find out my fate. I sat down on a bench. I could feel my body beginning to tremble. I’m not sure if it was fear, anticipation or a mixture of both. I felt a hand cup me underneath my chin and lift my face upwards. I saw that he’d stripped out of his t shirt and his thick, muscled furry torso was everything I’d hoped for. I got back on my feet, happy to let him guide me. He was surprisingly gentle for such a big, powerful man, but I really didn’t need much encouragement as has big hand pushed my face deep into his big, hairy chest. It felt like heaven and home at the same time, being caressed by his warm, hard muscle, his fresh sweat covering and dripping down my face. I could have stayed in there forever. I was harder than I’d ever been as my tongue went to work, exploring every inch of those big meaty pecs, running up and down the valley between them, teasing his nipples, working it’s way down towards his navel closer to the prize, still tantalisingly hidden underneath those grey shorts. I could feel him beginning to lose control, his movements becoming less gentle, writhing and bucking his body against my face and my warm loving tongue. Without warning, he grabbed my head and thrust it deep into one of his deep, ripe, sweaty pits, but I had no complaints, soaking up the taste and smell of his musk, strong, powerful, but irresistible, just like him. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven, I could spend eternity exploring and worshipping every part of this stunning, virile example of masculinity, but he brought me out of my reverie once more as he firmly but gently pushed me back down on the bench. It was obvious just how aroused he’d become and I wondered how those shorts were managing to win the battle. He put his fingers behind the waist band and achingly slowly began to peel then down those glorious thighs. Inch by inch, more and more of that thick veiny shaft was revealed. It seemed to go on forever, my eyes widened as it grew bigger and bigger until finally it sprang free from its confines, spraying my face with his warm precum. I wasn’t going to wait for an invite and I wasted no time taking that big, mushroom head into my mouth, savouring his salty taste as I worked his meat with my tongue my hands getting to work on that thick shaft and playing with his big bull balls as he moaned and thrust harder into me. I didn’t think I could take a cock as big as his, but somehow I did, making space for something I’d lusted after and longed for so long as I took more and more of his thick length. He didn’t object as I slipped a hand behind him and started roughly playing with his arse, thick, juicy cheeks from all the heavy lifting. Tentatively, I slipped a finger inside, enjoying the way he squeezed me harder into his crotch I decided to go harder and was soon massaging his prostate. Was there any part of him that didn’t feel warm, welcoming and inviting? It was only a matter of time, and soon I felt his breathing and his pulse quicken. I was drenched in sweat, unsure how much was his and how much was mine, and I couldn’t care less. I cupped his big balls and felt them tighten and pulse as he began to shoot a massive load down my throat. I’d waited for this and I wasn’t going to waste a drop. It was like nectar, warm, thick, sticky. Addictive. He put his clothes on without any words as I bathed in the afterglow, and somehow words weren’t needed. Our actions had said everything. He finally spoke just as he was heading through the door. “Same time next week”.

I completed this commission for hulkfan87#0372 on Discord and have posted it here with their permission. It is based on the old hulk series, specifically the pilot episode, as per their request—and it turned out to be quite a good one. If you're interested in having a story created for you or simply want to show your appreciation to the artist, please don't hesitate to reach out. You can message me on Discord at czechhunter69#0839. For everyone else, sit back and enjoy! Bruce and Elaine Bruce grunted in frustration as he forcefully slammed the trunk shut, relieved that he had managed to find the coolant amongst her lab kit and suitcases. He wiped the sweat off his brow and made his way to the front of the car, hoisting the heavy hood open with a determined effort. As the hood creaked upwards, a torrent of steam and scorching waves of heat engulfed Bruce's face, making him wince and squint his eyes. Waiting for the engine to cool, was going to be a lengthy task on its own. As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a warm glow, the hood provided a welcome shade inside the vintage car. Despite the idyllic rolling hill scenery, the temperature soared to a sweltering 78 degrees under the cloudless, vibrant blue sky. Elaine, a stunning sandy brunette beauty with cascading waves of hair, sat in the passenger seat, her features accentuated by the fading daylight. She fanned herself and with a sigh of relief, gracefully removing her jean jacket. With the car parked, she knew she wouldn't need it until they started driving again. "What happened?" Elaine shouted from inside the car, her voice laced with concern, as she delicately fanned herself in an attempt to find relief from the oppressive heat. Bruce sighed, his frustration evident in his voice. “Uhhhh….. Same thing as last time," he replied, his tone tinged with annoyance. "It just needs more coolant and proper mechanic. St. Louis really did a number on it.” As Bruce waited for the engine to cool, he couldn't help but ponder what that had led them to this predicament. The rage filled muscle mass he could become in an instant, sent shivers down his spine. He walked over to Elaine's window, leaning against the car's ledge, his arms crossed as he rested his head on them. She talked with him about how they could cure it, but they needed a serum sample from him as the hulk - a nearly impossible feat. These simple moments were when his flirtatious side emerged the most, an attempt to bring a touch of lightheartedness to their current predicament. Here, on the side of the road, it was just the two of them, accompanied only by the soft rustling of cornstalks crackling as they grew in the nearby field. The pursuing police had long given up, yet against his better judgment, he continued navigating the winding backroads in an attempt to make it harder for them to be found. Throughout the ordeal, he repeatedly assured Elaine that he knew where he was going, despite the scorching heat that seemed to amplify his troubles. He didn’t but there was going to be a town eventually. Elaine's unwavering charm remained unaffected by the circumstances, serving as the best way to calm him as she held his forearm. They had become a couple as Bruce adjusted to life on the run. He loved the way the sunlight played upon her hair, causing it to shimmer and captivate Bruce's attention. It usually drew him to her smile. Half the time, he had to suppress his own excitement and maintain a certain distance, carefully averting his gaze from her, fearing that any surge of emotions might trigger his uncontrollable transformation into the Hulk. "I wish they would just leave you be," Elaine murmured softly, her concern etched upon her face. “They’ve seen what you do when you’re triggered and don’t mean to turn,” She laughed. “Could you imagine what it would be like if you were trying?” Bruce longed for a cure, to rid himself of the monstrous burden he carried, yet a part of him secretly relished the incredible power that came with his transformation if he could just control it. And sometimes, deep down, he couldn't help but wonder if Elaine, too, found a strange allure in his inner monster. "I think that's why they want me,” Bruce said, his voice tinged with a mix of weariness and determination. “They don't want me cured," Bruce continued, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he spoke. "They want to replicate what I am. To make others just like me." His words carried a weight, reflecting the gravity of the situation they found themselves in. She knew it. “Well, I want you too. All of you, green skin and all.” Elaine looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination. She reached out and gently touched his arm, offering a reassuring presence amidst the uncertainty. "We'll find a way, Bruce," she said, her voice filled with unwavering support. "No matter what they want, we're in this together.” Bruce's tired face softened into a faint smile as he looked into Elaine's eyes. “On the bright side, we could always…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at him, trying to reawaken the man who used to please her just on his own. She traced a finger down his arm. “You’ve gotten much better at those other things.” She said longingly. “With that mouth, and those fingers… without turning.” Bruce laughed. “Yeah…” drawing closer for a kiss. Their intimate moments were a delicate dance, teetering on the edge of pleasure and danger. Bruce's insatiable desires and the ever-present threat of his transformation created an undeniable tension that Elaine could keenly sense. When he got excited, he risked losing control - but it was another way she could collect a sample from him as the hulk. It was a constant battle between his scientific intellect and the raw power surging through his veins. Bruce had mastered the art of restraint, walking a precarious tightrope, suppressing the surges of excitement that threatened to unleash the untamed beast lurking within. Paradoxically, Elaine found herself drawn to this inner struggle, enticed by the smoldering intensity simmering just beneath the surface and the scientific intrigue it carried. Each advance she made, every suggestion of indulgence, held the potential to push Bruce to the brink, to unlock the depths of his own desires. In truth, he yearned for that release, and they both knew it. It had been months. In those moments when intellect and instinct intertwined, Bruce found solace in repeatedly going down on Elaine - claiming her excitement was enough to satisfy him. It was a calming act for her, and it stirred an unparalleled excitement within him. Over the past few months, this intimate ritual had become their own version of dining out, a unique way to connect with each other, even though it presented its fair share of challenges. Despite the risks, Bruce managed to maintain control, never succumbing to the transformation. They often resorted to sleeping in separate beds or even in the car, navigating their unconventional circumstances as best they could, to keep him calmer to her dismay. However, she was getting better at convincing him to do things with her. A sign that he might actually cave in if she can convince him she’ll be safe. "I can't do that right now, Elaine," Bruce interjected, pulling away, his voice tinged with both anticipation and frustration. He was acutely aware of the risk of getting too excited by her presence. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and the headache building within him. "We need to get up and going before it gets dark," he continued, consciously changing the subject. Although his excitement was evident, Bruce understood the urgency of their situation. They had to find a place to stay for the night, and he needed a cold shower more than anything. Despite his inner turmoil, he remained focused on trying to get them up and running again. Bruce hurriedly scurried to the front of the car, seeking refuge behind the raised hood to hide from the woman he loved. His excitement being around her was overwhelming, distracting his focus. He didn’t want to turn around her, but also knew it would happen one day if they kept this up. Aware of the potential danger, he swiftly stripped off his shirt and securely wrapped it around his hand, fashioning a makeshift oven-mit. With a trembling arm, he extended it towards the coolant cap beneath the hood, his preparations tinged with frustration that clouded his judgment. It was too early, and it was going to hurt. In a clumsy manner, Bruce fumbled with the cap, his actions driven by impatience and eagerness. With an ill-advised twist, the cap unexpectedly yielded, unleashing a sudden eruption of scalding steam and boiling liquid. The release was so forceful that it mimicked the grandeur of the explosive geysers of Old Faithful. The air became a brief maelstrom of billowing steam, engulfing Bruce's shirt and transforming it into a hazy veil of hot fog. Bruce yelled in pain. Elaine swiftly leaped out of the car, a mix of concern and urgency propelling her towards him. Backpedaling as fast as he could, Bruce found himself momentarily disoriented by the onslaught of steam. The scene became a chaotic blur, the swirling vapor weighing heavily on the air, as he struggled to regain his balance and assess the repercussions of his ill-fated attempt to add coolant to the ailing vehicle. Grimacing from both physical discomfort and the weight of his own folly, Bruce couldn't ignore the drenched state of his shirt, mirroring the dampness that had seeped through the crotch of his jeans. The scorching pain extinguishing any flicker of excitement that had welled within him. He understood the imperative of reining in his desires, especially when they endangered Elaine's well-being. The magnetic pull of her presence was undeniable, but the potential harm it could cause served as an insurmountable barrier. Deep down, he knew that without a cure, he might have to make the agonizing choice of leaving her behind, all in the name of keeping her safe. She was trying to teach him to control it, but he wouldn’t didn’t want to let it out. With a heavy sigh that seemed to echo his internal struggle, Bruce summoned every ounce of self-control within him, purposefully stepping back and putting a distance between himself and the tantalizing dame already coming to his aid. The deliberate pain, both physical and emotional, acted as an unyielding deterrent, grounding him in the harsh reality of their circumstances. He couldn't afford to let his desires endanger well-being of the woman he held dear. Elaine, her heart aching with understanding, approached Bruce with a tender empathy - she knew he did it on purpose. She gently rested her hand on his shoulder, offering a comforting touch amidst the turmoil. "Please, just leave me alone," he pleaded softly, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and resignation. He knew that giving in to his desires could have disastrous consequences, and he didn't want to subject Elaine to such risks. Bruce carefully removed the shirt that had shielded his hand and proceeded with utmost caution, pouring the coolant into the car at a glacial pace. His hand throbbed but would be fine after a little bit - and was already starting to feel better. Each deliberate action was an attempt to regain a semblance of normalcy, to momentarily escape the weight of their extraordinary circumstances. "I'm sorry, but I... I want to feel some sort of normal again," he confessed, his voice laced with weariness and longing for a life unaffected by the incredible burden he carried. As the final drops of coolant trickled into the car, the twilight descended, robbing the world of its vibrant hues and reducing it to a grayscale canvas. The fading light mirrored the muted shades that now tainted their once-vibrant sex life, an unfortunate consequence of The Hulk. As Bruce turned the key in the ignition, the car sputtered to life, emitting a throaty chug as if awakening from a slumber - it wasn’t good enough for a long drive, but it would do. The soft, warm glow of the headlights timidly illuminated the asphalt ahead, guiding their journey towards the next small town. Their destination was the first motel they saw coasting in. Its name, Motel Lee, would have been proudly displayed on a sign, but the lamps remained unlit, a reflection of its worn-down appearance. Yet, this dilapidation worked in their favor, ensuring affordable rent and sparing them from prying eyes. Elaine assumed her usual role of acquiring the motel keys, a task that fell to her given Bruce's criminal notoriety, often gracing the screens of the nightly news. She had grown accustomed to the peculiar dynamics of their situation, where discretion and anonymity were paramount. With a practiced ease, she stepped out of the car, prepared to negotiate their stay without attracting undue attention. Returning to the car, Elaine held the room keys in one hand, her other hand grasping something intriguing. Despite her nerves stemming from the use of fake names and bad checks, her focus remained tied to him. Bruce's curiosity surged as he noticed not one, but two pairs of handcuffs dangling from her fingers. His eyebrow instinctively raised, wondering how she managed to acquire them. Yet, a glimmer of lust in her eyes urged him to embrace her plan. "They were just sitting on the counter, and when Stan left to get the keys, I thought we could have some fun with them.” "You...stole them? Who leaves handcuffs lying around on a counter?” Elaine laughed playfully. "I wanted to add a little excitement tonight, not enough to trigger your transformation, but enough for you to relax.” Bruce voiced his concern, "If I do transform, those handcuffs won't be able to stop me.” In countless instances, it was Elaine who possessed the power to soothe Bruce during his transformations. Ironically, she was also exceptionally skilled at igniting his desires, often leading to his metamorphosis. She had become his anchor, the one who could rein him back. And tonight, she made it clear that it was his turn to be cared for, whether he stood as Bruce Banner or as the hulking, green beast. "I took these for you, not the hulk,” Elaine said, her voice laced with a mix of anticipation and tenderness. "I want tonight to be about you, Bruce, about us. Trust me, I've thought this through. You will be able to control yourself.” Elaine's intriguing proposition had Bruce's gaze shifting from the handcuffs to her, his face a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Deep down, he trusted her to stop before he hulked out and was genuinely intrigued by what she meant. It had been an incredibly long time since he had experienced any form of intimacy with a woman. Understanding the underlying message, Bruce recognized that this was Elaine's way of demonstrating her ability to embrace both sides of him—an idea she had been trying to convey for quite some time. The offer she presented was undeniably tempting, a tantalizing opportunity to feel desired and truly understood in ways he had never before experienced. With a mixture of nervousness and excitement, Bruce reached out, his fingers lightly grazing the cool metal of the handcuffs. Uncertainty danced in his eyes. Could he trust himself to maintain control, or would the hulk be too strong? Taking a deep breath, he looked into Elaine's eyes, a flicker of vulnerability mingling with a flicker of longing. "Alright," he finally whispered, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. In truth, he was hornier than a toad. It clawed at him, demanding to be sated, overriding any semblance of reason or restraint as if the scientist and rational was fighting the hulk and losing already. The mere thought of ravishing her, of surrendering to the depths of his own desires, sent a surge through his veins. His body burned with a fierce intensity, yearning to unleash its power and passion upon her. He needed to fuck her with an intensity that would teach her just how bad of an idea it was to do this. Too destroy the motel so badly she’d cure him. The longing in his eyes matched the fire that raged within, a tempest of desire that threatened to consume them both. ——————————————————————————————————————— The dimly lit motel room seemed to exude an air of mystery as Bruce found himself handcuffed to the bed. His brows furrowed with uncertainty, his mind swirling with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Tensing up was normal with sex, and the restraints didn’t make it easier not to - but he was scared about the hulk coming out, he was scared about the hulk cumming in general. He couldn’t hide how excited he was as his underwear tented higher than usual, soaking wet already. Elaine, stood before him, teasing him as she removed her clothes. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Relax, Bruce," she purred, her voice tinged with a tantalizing confidence. "Everything will be fine. Just remember, your only goal is to not break these handcuffs, and if you do, you’re only job is to keep me safe.” Bruce agreed, repeating the promise over and over in his head as he talked himself up - he could do it. She kept reminding him to reenforce it as a goal. Bruce's eyes darted between the handcuffs and Elaine, his heart racing with a cocktail of emotions. It had been months since he last experienced anything remotely close to this kind of excitement. Never before had he ventured into the realm of restraints, and the unfamiliarity sent both shivers of apprehension and thrill down his spine. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I... I don't know how long these will hold me if I transform," Bruce admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. Elaine leaned in, her fingers gently tracing the contours of his chest. "That's the thrill, isn't it? The unknown," she whispered seductively, her breath warm against his ear. “Think about it, if you don’t break them - you keep me safe.” “No, I don’t want to turn.” “Then be that strong man I know you are” As she climbed up on him, her lips brushed against his, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire. Elaine had a way of awakening desires deep within him that he didn't even know existed. Her touch was electric, her words igniting a fire within his core, she could tell him to do anything. She leaned over him, her hands expertly massaging his chest while peppering his skin with soft, tantalizing kisses. Her whispered words, filled with explicit fantasies, were intended to stoke the fire of passion deep within him. As Elaine's skilled touch heightened his arousal, a primal growl nearly slipped past Bruce's lips, accompanied by a sudden jerk of his body. It was the first telltale sign that the Hulk's emergence was imminent. It was like lightning clearing his mind of everything except how much he wanted to cum right now. In that moment, fear and desire mingled within him, torn between his own apprehension and the desire not to disappoint Elaine - the one person who probably could cure him. Yet, Elaine's soothing voice cut through his anxiety, assuring him that she had faith in her safety. She was right too - he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. It was a delicate balance, fueled by a mixture of fear and determination, as he navigated the line between gratifying his own desires and protecting the woman he loved. Elaine's objective was clear: to push the boundaries of Bruce's self-control and delve into the depths of his dual personas get several serum samples from him after he turned. Yet, beneath her scientific curiosity, a fiery longing blazed within her. The memories of their time in the lab, the blend of fear and desire, ignited an intense craving. She didn’t know who was more wet, her or bruce. She yearned to feel the sheer strength of his muscles, to surrender to the potent allure that both thrilled and unsettled her. The image of steel pipes torn from the ceiling and steel doors shattered effortlessly stirred a fervent passion deep within. She hungered for the presence of that powerful, unstoppable man, fully aware that to awaken him, she needed to entice him into surrendering control. Elaine's tongue traced a tantalizing path along Bruce's sensitive nipples, her movements alternating between teasing nibbles and tender caresses. Each flicker of her touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body, eliciting moans and involuntary jerks that betrayed his growing arousal. All of his muscles were so tense, and as she looked up to his. The desires that swirled within him waged a fierce battle against his need for restraint. Bruce's love for Elaine burned deeply, fueling his desire to surrender to the transformation that awaited him. He longed to show her the extent of his strength, to prove how big and powerful he could become with her by his side. Yet, he knew unleashing his alter ego, the Hulk was deadly. The fear of causing harm to the woman he cherished waged a relentless war with his own intense yearning, as he pulled and jerked against the cuffs, the bones in his wrists pressing uncomfortably against the metal, where it didn’t mere moments ago. He was growing - however slowly. As the intensity of the moment heightened, Bruce found himself teetering on the edge of surrender, enjoying the idea of pulling the posters right off the bed frame. The clash between his dwindling reservations and the primal desire awakened by Elaine's touch set the stage for a battle of wills, where the line between control and abandon blurred. With each passing second, the stakes grew higher. In that charged atmosphere, their intimate encounter became a crucible, a testing ground that pushed the boundaries of their desires. Bruce found himself caught in a tumultuous struggle, torn between the irresistible longing to surrender to his primal urges and the weighty responsibility of safeguarding Elaine from the unbridled power that dwelled within him. It was a delicate dance on a tightrope, teetering between the realms of ecstasy and restraint, with an uncertain outcome hanging in the balance. With one misstep, Bruce plummeted from the tightrope, plunging into the unyielding embrace of the Hulk. With each passing second, Bruce's body underwent an awe-inspiring growth, a captivating spectacle that held Elaine in a trance as she continued to kiss and lick his expanding body, now slurping pre-cum dripping cock. His sinewy form contorted and twisted. The air crackled with grunts and groans as his muscles swelled and expanded, fueled by an unstoppable force that surged through his veins. Bruce, lost in the sea of pleasure and transformation, could feel the primal growl rumbling within his chest. The bed beneath him groaned and protested, struggling to bear the weight of his growth spurt. The once cozy queen-sized mattress strained against the sheer magnitude of his presence, unable to hold the extraordinary growth that now consumed him. His feet extending beyond the edge of the be, as his knees bent and toes grazed the floor. What was once a chubby slim physique had now given way to an astonishing display of power and green magnificence. Pounds upon pounds of rippling sinew packed onto his frame, each muscle fiber defined and accentuated with precision. It was as if his entire being had been sculpted by the hands of Lou Ferrigno, an embodiment of strength and art. His arms, slim and unremarkable, now resembled colossal mossy tree trunks, thick and bulging with raw power. Veins snaked across their surface like ancient rivers, pulsating with the life force that coursed through him. As his muscles expanded, they seemed to dance beneath the surface. Shoulders broadened and extended, reaching from side to side of the mattress. The handcuffs that had once restrained him were reduced to twisted metal, shattered remnants of their former existence. Try as he might, the shear size of his arms prevented them from being held in place above his head. They were no match for the immense power that surged through his veins, a power that demanded freedom and release. Elaine was going to witness to his overwhelming might and succumbed to his desires. Each breath he took was infused with a sense of exhilaration and liberation. He could feel the rush of blood through his veins, the pulsating heartbeat that coursed through his now massive dick already excited to get what it’s wanted for a while, as she watched unsure just what to do - Bruce or The Hulk was larger than normal. Undeterred by the awe-inspiring spectacle unfolding before her, Elaine's desire burned brightly, urging her to explore every inch of Bruce's immense form. Her fingers, delicate yet filled with a fervent longing, traced the contours of his burgeoning muscles, caressing the hardened sinew with a reverence reserved for a work of art. She marveled at the sheer scale of his physicality, her touch a graceful dance upon the landscape of his sculpted physique. The musk of sweat that emanated from Bruce's skin only served to heighten Elaine's desire. It mingled with the air, creating an intoxicating scent that fueled her. She surrendered to the raw, masculine aura that enveloped him. Her lips, soft and eager, descended upon his colossal chest, planting kisses upon the chiseled landscape with a fervent passion. Her delicate hands gripping his traps as if they were where she would come up for air. Each touch send pleasureful sensations within him, coursing through his veins. As the hulk grew in strength, its raw power evident in every fiber of Bruce's being, a profound sense of awe mingled with a primal fear. He was still keenly aware of the delicate balance between pleasure and the potential for destruction - and he already wanted to destroy the room. His instincts urged him to unleash his might, to revel in the dominance that now resided within him. But he remained resolute, his desire to protect Elaine outweighing his own primal urges. In the midst of this extraordinary spectacle, the room was transformed into an arena of passion and power. The scent of musk and the symphony of moans filled the air, a testament to the union of human desire and the monstrous strength that coursed through Bruce's veins. In this fusion of muscle and desire, Bruce and Elaine found themselves caught in a dance of supremacy and vulnerability, their love transcending the boundaries of the ordinary. As the hulk's presence loomed large under her, she couldn’t help but enjoy being on top of such a massive man, unable to even dent the rock hard skin. Suddenly, the hulk seized control, his colossal hands firmly gripping Elaine's head, pulling her close to his monstrous visage. Elaine prayed she wouldn’t be crushed and that somewhere inside Bruce was there. The Hulk craved more than just gratification. It wanted to taste every inch of her, it wanted to fuck her. With a single purpose in mind, The Hulk clumsily devoured Elaine's lips in a passionate and ravenous kiss, his massive hand wrapped around her head, holding it in place. Bruces insatiable sexual hunger merged with hulks immense strength, intertwining raw power with intimacy. The taste of his own pre, mingled with the sweetness of her lips, and drove him wild. As the hulk's dominance asserted itself, he effortlessly rolled over, carefully positioning Elaine beneath him on the bed. The stark contrast in size between them heightened the intensity of their encounter, emphasizing his towering, muscular form over her petite frame as he flexed - she couldn’t help but reach up and feel his muscles move under his skin. Noticing the hunger in eyes, she couldn’t help but try to sit up and move her mouth towards his throbbing cock. He needed this, she thought. His brutish face, accentuated by a 5 o’clock shadow on his chin, adding to the intensity of the moment. She had forgotten to breathe. Before Elaine could react, the Hulk's enormous hand gently cradled her face, his touch a contradiction of tenderness and overpowering strength. It was their first intimate encounter with him in his Hulk form, leaving her uncertain about the level of gentleness he could exert with his immense size and power. With one more lingering kiss on her lips, he embarked on a journey southward, his hunger and delicate precision blending as he suckled her breasts, as his finger began to play with her vagina. Driven by a deliberate yet urgent determination, the Hulk set out to pleasure Elaine, to surpass any satisfaction she had ever experienced with Bruce - he had to show that little man what a real man could do. His tongue skillfully danced and teased, rendering her body a helpless vessel for waves of ecstatic pleasure as he focused on her vagina, unleashing a ferocity driven by his passionate instincts, plunges into the depths of her most sensitive area, his tongue becoming an instrument of ecstasy. Firmly but sensitively, he held her in place, fully embracing his insatiable desire to please her and relish her most intimate essence—a desire that harmoniously melded with his formidable strength. Each flick of his tongue, each caress of his lips, surging through her, each movement executed with a primal finesse unique to the Hulk's immense physique. Elaine, gripping the mattress tightly, surrendered to his growls as the Hulk's head delved deeper between her legs, emitting animalistic growls of his own. The Hulk was an animal As he delved further into his voracious feast, Elaine's moans intermingled with the rumbling growls emanating from the Hulk's monstrous form, his hand moving to stroke his own massive green cock. The room filled with an intoxicating symphony of shared ecstasy, as the room shook. Despite reveling in his insatiable desires, the Hulk's primary concern remained Elaine's satisfaction and safety. The duality of his nature—the untamed strength and the tenderness within—manifested in an unwavering determination to elicit cries of pleasure from her, over and over again. In this fusion of the beast and the beloved, pleasure and power entwined, culminating in an intense moment that Elaine resisted but ultimately succumbed to as she reached climax. Hulk came up for air, still stroking himself with a look that had one message - he wasn’t anywhere near done. ——————————————————————————————————————— The Hulk rose to his full, imposing stature, his massive form radiating both anger and pride, casting a shadow over the exhausted woman who had ignited this fiery passion within him. This was her fault, she wanted this and he wasn’t done yet, not even close. With a determination burning in his eyes, it was now his turn to unleash his insatiable desires upon her. Glaring down at her, his bulging muscles rippling with each breath, he repositioned himself over her, his cock pressing against her stomach as he positioned himself on top of her, a reminder of his sheer dominance, careful not to crush her. As he ascended onto her, the Hulk's forceful kiss claimed her lips, his mouth a cavernous expanse, engulfing her with a hunger that knew no bounds. The intensity of his kiss reminding her she couldn’t stop him now, the vibrant green hue of his lips serving as a vivid warning of the untamed power that coursed through his veins. With a commanding presence, the Hulk's throbbing cock pressed against her wet spit covered slit. The sheer size and girth of his member stretching the limits of her anticipation as he push in, each forceful thrust generating a symphony of pleasure that reverberated through her being. The pulsating veins that snaked across his massive length throbbed with every movement. Banging the bed against the wall with such for the drywall was cracking - and he was just getting started. As the Hulk's relentless thrusts continued, their bodies became locked in a primal dance of passion, propelling her towards multiple climaxes. His abs flexed with every motion, a sculpted landscape of power and desire. His glutes clenched with each powerful thrust, driving him deeper into her, intensifying the pleasure they shared. The room filled with her moans and his beastly grunts, a cacophony escaping his lips as his climax approached. The overwhelming force with which the Hulk plunged into her sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her every nerve ending, shattering any lingering remnants of restraint and unleashing a torrent of pleasure that cascaded through her core as she gripped the sheet stronger than he ever could. His mighty body quaked above her, the weight of his power evident in every ripple of muscle and every grunt that escaped his lips. With one final, earth-shattering thrust, the Hulk unleashed a guttural roar that echoed through the room, a primal declaration of his release. Like a powerful tidal wave crashing upon the shore, his climax surged through him, overpowering his senses with its intensity. He couldn’t resist taking both his fists and smashing them into the mattress on both sides of her head. The sheer magnitude of his liquid release was awe-inspiring - and would be for Bruce. As he emptied himself into her, the room quaked beneath the weight of his passion. A torrent of his cum surged forth, a deluge that overflowed Elaines slit as he pulled out. It cascaded with unyielding power, filling the depths of their connection and leaving no doubt as to the sheer potency of his desire. Each pulse of his release coated her entire stomach as he trembled over her trying not to collapse. The room was filled with the heady scent of their union, a potent mixture of desire and fulfillment that hung in the air. In the aftermath of their union, their bodies entwined, a profound sense of satisfaction and connection enveloped them. The Hulk, still towering over Elaine, was a vision of raw power and dominance. He had unleashed the full extent of his physical prowess upon her, leaving no doubt as to the overwhelming strength that coursed through his veins. As the intense surge of passion and pleasure began to subside, the hulk's massive frame yearned to collapse on the bed. Gradually he heaved himself over her, stumbling to the floor, the hulk's monumental form beginning to diminish in size, a metamorphosis that unfolded before Elaine's eyes. The raw power that had pulsed through his muscles now waned, as his physique shrunk. The bulging muscles deflating as if releasing the tension they had held. The once formidable biceps and triceps diminished in size, gradually revealing a more compact and toned physique. As the transformation continued, his chest, once a robust and solid wall of muscle, gradually receded, becoming less defined and sculpted. The hulk's legs, once pillars of strength, slimed up. His colossal feet, which had seemingly dwarfed everything in their path, now appeared more proportionate as they slowly shrank to a more manageable size. With each passing moment, the hulk's remarkable transformation to become Bruce continued, his monumental stature gradually giving way to a more human-sized frame, and his color became more white, and the fat proudly adorned his body returning. Elaine, exhausted from the overwhelmingly passionate encounter, remained safely nestled on the bed, her body both sated and spent. The intense connection she had shared with the hulk now lingering as a creamy glaze now pooling around her waist - still warm. “Holy shit,” She sighed with a gentle smile on her face, embracing the stillness of the moment, basking in the euphoria of their shared experience. As the Bruce settled on the floor, his reduced form now entirely human proportions, he exhaled a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry," Bruce muttered, his voice laced with remorse, as he lay naked on the floor, catching his breath. The transformation had subsided, leaving him in a state of vulnerability and self-reflection. Elaine, still catching her breath from their intense encounter, reassured him with a breathless response. "You were… amazing. I mean, holy shit, you were incredible," she gasped, her voice filled with awe and lingering pleasure. "I've never experienced anything like that before, so many times… I came so many time… ” Bruce looked under the bed trying to catch his breath, where remnants of crushed wood lay scattered. The bed frame was no more. Examining the splintered fragments, Bruce couldn't help but contemplate the sheer weight he had carried, estimating it to be in the range of 4 or 500 pounds during his transformation. The knowledge that he had exerted such force, even inadvertently, weighed heavily on his conscience. Silence hung in the air as Bruce grappled with the conflicting emotions coursing through him. "Bruce, don't be so hard on yourself," she whispered softly, her eyes filled with understanding. "Yes, your the hulk, but it's a part of you. We'll learn together how to navigate this part of us, how to channel it in ways that bring us joy without causing harm.” Her words resonated deeply within him, offering a glimmer of solace amidst his self-doubt. The assurance that he was not alone in this journey provided a sense of comfort and relief. Bruce nodded, his expression softened by her compassion and unwavering support, as he pulled himself off the floor. Bruce gingerly picked up the tattered remains of his underwear, his eyes scanning the room for any other rewards of their passionate encounter - he didn’t remember taking them off. The broken bed frame. The shattered handcuffs. He cleared his throat, his voice slightly hoarse as he spoke, "We should probably get cleaned up.” Elaine, her gaze fixated on her own naked form glistening with his essence, nodded in agreement. "I'd like that," she replied, her voice carrying a mix of satisfaction and longing. With a gentle hand, Bruce helped Elaine rise from the warm pool of cum she had been lying in, his touch tender and caring. They moved together towards the shower. Bruce turned the faucet, setting the water to its hottest setting, filling the bathroom with a cloud of steam. As the steam began to swirl around them, Elaine couldn't help but notice the careful way Bruce looked at her, as if searching for any signs of discomfort or marks left behind. Her voice softened as she broke the silence, her words carrying a mix of reassurance and admiration. "You didn't hurt me, you know," she said, her eyes meeting his, filled with trust and affection. Bruce was momentarily taken aback, his mind racing to find the right words to express his thoughts. The steam continued to rise, creating a veil of intimacy between them. He finally found his voice, his words laced with vulnerability. "I... I'm glad," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper, as he turned the heat down to something they could enjoy as they climbed in. Elaine stepped closer, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek, her touch comforting and gentle. "You were better than any of our previous times," she murmured, her eyes locked with his, "and it's about time you were able to let go a little bit.” Bruce's eyes softened, the weight of his past struggles momentarily lightening as he absorbed Elaine's words. The steam swirling around them created a cocoon of intimacy, shielding them from the outside world as they stood together beneath the cascading water. In that vulnerable moment, he leaned in, his forehead gently resting against hers, their breaths intermingling amidst the rising steam. "I... I love you, Elaine," Bruce confessed, his voice brimming with sincerity and raw emotion. His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his inner turmoil. "But I don't want to be this hulk. I don't. And I don't want you to expect that level of... performance…from me. The hulk isn't me.” Elaine's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, a mix of understanding and unwavering love shining in her gaze, it was part of both of them and changing the words didn’t matter. A radiant smile curved her lips as she tightened her embrace around him, their bodies coming together in the warm embrace of the shower. "I love 'you', Bruce," she whispered, her voice laced with tenderness and unwavering devotion. In that moment, under the soothing rush of water and the sheltering steam, Bruce felt a profound sense of acceptance and understanding. Elaine's love wrapped around him like a lifeline, grounding him amidst the turbulent currents of his own identity. And in her embrace, he found solace, knowing that their love transcended the challenges they faced, and that together, they could navigate the complexities of their relationship with unwavering support and unconditional devotion. ——————————————————————————————————————— Their blissful shower abruptly shattered as the tranquility of the moment was torn apart by a violent intrusion. In the dead of night, the piercing sound of a man's voice shouting "police" reverberated through the room, sending shockwaves of fear and confusion coursing through Elaine and Bruce's veins. Bruce knew they had finally been caught - it didn’t matter how far they would run. Their hearts pounded in their chests as the bathroom door swung open, revealing two figures dressed in police uniforms, their weapons brandished with a menacing authority. "Get down on the ground, now!" one of the officers barked, his voice filled with a vulgar aggression that cut through the air like a knife. One threw bruce to the ground, dragging him into the main room. Bruce's muscles tensed, a mix of fear and adrenaline flooding his system. He complied, dropping to his knees with a sense of helplessness and vulnerability, as one officer threw him to the floor. The cold tile floor pressed against his bare skin, a stark contrast to the warmth and safety he had just experienced in the embrace of the steamy shower. Elaine's scream pierced the air, a cry of terror and disbelief as the officers invaded their sacred moment. Her nakedness, once a symbol of their intimate connection, now became a vulnerability that was callously exploited by men who thought they were the ones in control of the situation. With a reckless force, they handled her, their grip unyielding and violent, treating her with a brutality that ignited a furious rage within Bruce. As Elaine was thrown to the floor, her body colliding with the unforgiving surface, Bruce's protective instincts surged to the forefront. The hulk, dormant within him, stirred with a ferocious intensity, the desire to defend and shield his love overpowering his thoughts. Every fiber of his being screamed for action, for retribution against the injustice inflicted upon them. As the cold, metal cuffs were secured around Bruce's wrists for a second time that night, a sinister smile tugged at the corners of his lips. With a surge of raw power, the transformation began, an incredible metamorphosis that unleashed an unstoppable force upon the unsuspecting police officers, his officer quickly fired into his shoulder. Bruce's body convulsed, his muscles bulging and expanding with incredible speed quickly healing from the gunshot. The cuffs strained against the sheer magnitude of his growing mass, threatening to snap under the immense pressure. Inch by inch, he towered over the officers, surpassing their height as if defying the laws of physics. The once meek and submissive figure of Bruce had given way to a colossal entity, a towering symbol of untamed strength. The hulk, now standing before them, radiated an aura of aggression and dominance, briefly flexing, his pecs trembling as he grew. His green skin pulsed with veins that seemed to carry the essence of his sheer power. The officers, who had previously felt a sense of authority and control, now found themselves dwarfed by this monstrous embodiment of fury. With a bone-rattling roar that shook the very foundations of the room, the hulk lunged forward, his massive green fists crashing into the officers with unfathomable strength. The impact was cataclysmic, the sound of bones shattering and flesh yielding filling the air. Driven by an insatiable hunger for dominance, the hulk unleashed a torrent of devastating blows upon the officers The first officer, caught off guard by the hulk's lightning-fast attack, was sent hurtling through the air, his body slamming into a wall with a sickening thud. The second officer, paralyzed with fear, watched in horror as his partner flew through the wall. Before he could even think of a course of action, the hulk closed the distance between them in a blur of emerald fury. Grasping the second officer by the collar, the hulk effortlessly hoisted him into the air, the officer's legs dangling helplessly. The officer's eyes widened in terror as he stared into the hulk's rage-filled eyes, the green veins pulsating with power. The officer was speechless. With an animalistic roar, the hulk swung one officer like a ragdoll, his body becoming a projectile of destruction. The officer crashed through the their room like a human missile, obliterating everything in his path, collapsing on the bed of the room next door. Both men, very lucky to be alive as the hulk realized how much he craved the destruction, as he fought anything in his grasps. Each strike was a display of raw strength, sending shockwaves through the room and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The air crackled with the energy of his relentless assault, the force of his blows creating mini-explosions of debris. His veins bulged with pulsating energy, each surge of adrenaline fueling his insatiable desire for dominance. He flexed his colossal muscles, veins snaking across his green-skinned physique like radiation filled streams. The building seemed to tremble in awe of the hulk's sheer presence, the very walls struggling to contain the force that emanated from his monstrous form. Amidst the chaos, the hulk's grunts and growls filled the room, a symphony of primal aggression. His roar reverberated through the wreckage, a primal declaration of his unbridled power. It was a dance of destruction, a display of dominance that sent shockwaves through the hulk's being, reminding him of the limitless strength that surged within him. He loved it, and as he looked down he could help but smile at his massive tool, craving more than what Elaine could offer. The hulk paused amidst the wreckage, a towering figure radiating both triumph and an insatiable hunger for more. The officers, broken and bloodied, lay scattered like discarded playthings. The hulk's exhilaration remained palpable, an unstoppable force of nature basking in the aftermath of his unleashed power. With a deafening bellow that reverberated through the air, the hulk surged forward, a mountain of raw strength and power. His sinewy muscles bulged and rippled with every movement, their sheer mass demonstrating his formidable might. From his broad chest, down his colossal arms, and all the way to his tree trunk-like legs, his naked body demanding attention as he plowed his way out of the room and into the parking lot. In a display of unfathomable strength, the hulk's massive hands closed around the police car parked outside, his fingers effortlessly gripping the solid metal chassis. The creaking and groaning metal filled the air as the vehicle strained against the hulk's grip, unable to withstand the colossal power that coiled within his veins. With a mighty heave, the hulk propelled the car forward, unleashing it like a projectile hurtling through the air. The metallic beast soared with uncanny accuracy, its trajectory guided by the hulk’s towards the other rooms. The impact upon landing would be cataclysmic, as the car became a weapon in the hulk's hands, demolishing anything unfortunate enough to stand in its path. The car crashed through the wall of the adjacent rooms, unleashing a violent explosion of splintered wood, shattered glass, fire, and crumbling brick. Debris rained down like a torrential storm, as the neighboring rooms were instantly transformed into a scene of utter chaos. The force of impact reverberated through the entire building, sending tremors of destruction cascading through its very foundation. Inside the motel rooms, the hulk's rampage continued from one room to the next. Walls crumbled under the relentless onslaught, furniture was reduced to splinters, and personal belongings were pulverized into oblivion. The air became thick with a haze of dust and debris, obscuring the hulk's monstrous figure amidst the wreckage. He was simply having fun at this point. Through it all, the hulk's focus remained resolute. He avoided the area where Elaine was, his only concern ensuring her safety after breaking the cuffs a second time tonight amidst the onslaught of his unbridled fury. It was as if a sliver of his humanity still lingered, a thread of consciousness that shielded her from his wrath, it protected nothing else. With every destructive second fueled by the sheer pleasure of obliterating anything in his path. He tore through everything, his mighty fists reducing them to rubble. Glass shattered like fragile crystal at his touch, and the sound of splintering wood echoed like an ominous warning. Amidst the chaos, the hulk's roars reverberated through the building, a primal symphony of dominance that shook the very core of anyone who heard it. His monstrous form stood amidst the wreckage. His muscles bulged and veins pulsed with an otherworldly energy. As the hulk surveyed the wreckage, his eyes caught sight of Elaine standing across the parking lot, wrapped in a towel and clearly disheveled. In that moment, a pang of remorse pierced through his powerful exterior. The woman he loved had been caught in the crossfire of his uncontrollable rage, realizing that was enough to calm him down. Water from burst pipes were spraying into the air, pattering his muscles and cleaning him at the same time. The hulk couldn't help but feel a mix of exhilaration and guilt, knowing the destruction he had caused was witnessed by the woman he loved yet again. He had torn through walls, shattered objects, and reduced the police car to a mere heap of twisted metal. His unstoppable ire had left a lasting mark on everything in his path, and it needed to be cured. Deep down, he longed for control, for the ability to protect those he cared about rather than subject them to more danger. The woman he loved deserved more than the collateral damage he had caused and would continue. Elaine, however, stood amidst the wreckage, her gaze locked onto the dark green puddle of blood that had spilled onto the ground—an elusive sample that appeared almost impossible to obtain without a transformation. Safely stored in her purse were several vials, the closest means of preserving the cum and blood she had managed to collect. It was a precious miracle, offering a fleeting glimpse into the genetic makeup of the hulk—a treasure she knew would be nearly impossible to acquire again. Unbeknownst to Bruce, Elaine had a whole different plan up her sleeve. She had pulled the wool over the police's eyes, making them believe she was an unwilling accomplice ready to betray him, and she had duped Bruce into thinking she would use the serum samples to cure him. But in reality, her true intentions were far better. Deep down, she craved the power of the hulk for herself, and she guarded that secret closely, her heart throbbing with anticipation. As the vial of dark green blood sparkled in her grasp, Elaine's gaze darted between the precious liquid and Bruce, who stood clueless, unaware of the betrayal that loomed over him. A pang of guilt tugged at her conscience, yet her longing for power eclipsed any remorse. The allure of becoming a hulk, of tasting the untamed might and the freedom it promised, was simply too enticing to resist. Besides, she figured if the military wanted blood - her tampons would do. A mix of excitement and nerves coursed through Elaine as she prepared herself for the transformative journey that lay ahead. Thoughts raced through her mind, considering the nearest lab and the logistics involved. She knew that her decision would shatter Bruce's hopes and undermine the trust he had placed in her, but it also meant he could finally embrace his true self without the weight of a cure holding him back. With meticulous care, Elaine sealed the vials, fully aware of the gravity of her choices. She was about to take on the hulk, severing the chains that bound her to victimhood and the burden of finding a cure. Her actions were fueled by self-serving ambition, a hunger for power that threatened to consume her from within.

Danny and The Musclebear God Derrick Danny walked into the changing room and froze at the sight that met his eyes. Standing in the middle of the room was a 55-year-old muscle bear god. He was an impressive 6 feet 2 inches tall, with a broad chest and wide shoulders. His body was an impressive 350 pounds and covered in thick, dark hair. His biceps were huge, bulging out from his body and extending outwards like two massive slabs of granite. His quads were also thick and massive, measuring a full 34 inches around. But what made Danny's heart skip a beat was the sight of the bear god's 8-inch soft dick, which could easily grow to 10 inches when hard. His balls were large and full, and his body was covered in a thick layer of hair. The bear god caught sight of Danny and slowly began to flex his muscles. He started with his biceps, which bulged out to an impressive 23 inches, and then moved down to his quads, spreading them out to show off their full size. His chest and shoulders were also bulging with strength and power. Danny just stood there, mesmerized by the sight of the bear god. He quickly took out his measuring tape and began to measure the bear god, recording all of his impressive measurements. When he was finished, the bear god stepped forward and grabbed Danny, pulling him close. Danny felt his heart racing as the bear god pushed his thick, hard cock against him. Danny could feel the man's strength and size, and he knew that he was in the presence of a superior being. The bear god then commanded Danny to kneel before him and to worship his superior body. Danny complied, feeling a strong sense of awe and admiration for the bear god. He worshipped Derrick, obeying his every command and submitting to his superior strength. The bear god then proceeded to pleasure Danny in ways that he had never experienced before. He used his strength and size to ravage Danny, pushing his limits and beyond. The bear god's thrusts grew more and more intense, taking Danny to heights of pleasure that he had never experienced before. Danny felt his body trembling with pleasure as the bear god aggressively explored his body, pushing Danny's limits and beyond. The bear god's hands grabbed Danny's hips, pushing him down harder and harder as his thrusts increased in intensity. Danny felt himself getting closer and closer to orgasm, and then finally, he let out a loud moan as he felt the bear god's hot cum filling his hole. The bear god then slowly pulled out of Danny, and Danny felt relieved to be free from the intense pleasure. With that, the bear god released Danny and stepped back. Danny quickly gathered his clothes and left, feeling a strong sense of satisfaction. He had experienced something powerful, and he knew that he had been changed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Welcome to PHOLUS REBORN – the novel. You may remember my short story by the same name. To me, that story always read like the outline of a novel, all “tell” and no “show,” so I finally got around to expanding it. The following is a excerpt from the new novel, avail as an ebook and paperback on Amazon – CLICK HERE. SOME EXPOSITION: Red has ingested a magic potion (Dionysian wine) that has been slowly transforming him into the centaur, Pholus, granting him an amazing body, irresistible pheromones, and an incredible “horse” cock. Red’s housemate and lifelong friend, the straight boy AppleJack, creates the “Pholus Reborn” brand, an online porn empire , an immediate success. Red/ Pholus has recently discovered the ability to create other centaurs and sets about establishing a herd. He has already recruited the beautiful twunk rodeo rider, Pokey Dakota and the porn star Colt Cavalier. After his transformation into a centaur, Pokey’s hair turned bright blue. *********************************************************** The Hipster Barber Shop, Dunn’s, was more-or-less on the way to the gym, so it wasn’t hard to steer Pokey in. “This is my guy,” I told him. “He’ll clean you up.” “I like the smell of this place,” Pokey said as we went inside. “The leather ‘n such – I reckon it’s sorta manly.” There were a few more people in the shop than when I’d been here last, a second cutter in the back corner chair – another hipster with a beautiful beard and a top-knot smoking a cigar. He and his client were deep in it, chatting away, completely ignoring the rest of us. Dunn had just finished at the register so was there to greet us. “Pholus!” he exclaimed, unconsciously touching his package, bowing slightly. Clad only in a leather vest and two heavy silver necklaces, leather gauntlet on one wrist and assorted beads and bracelets on the other, the same black jeans and sneakers as the last time I’d seen him. Once again his beard and hair were manicured to perfection. “I’m honored! What can I do to be of service?” “Hello, Dunn,” I said, smiling, hitting him with a wave of pheromones. (Pokey reacted dramatically, leaning into me and whispering, “Go, Captain Overkill,” as he teasingly poked me in the side. I barely glanced at him.) “Something I hope you can help me with,” I said to Dunn, pulling the baseball cap from Pokey’s head, releasing his cascade of uncontrolled azure locks. “This.” “Oh, my!” Dunn said. I smirked. “Yeah… it needs…” “Some style,” Dunn finished, studying it academically. “I mean, the color’s gorgeous – whoever did it did a spectacular job.” He put his hands through Pokey’s thick hair, examining it – I hope Pokey found it as erotic as I did. From the smell coming off him, he did. “I mean, it’s got highlights, lowlights, beautiful tone… why didn’t they cut it? What’s wrong with you kids today?” He looked Pokey straight in the face. “Fear not, I can make your boy beautiful,” Dunn said, glancing from him to me. “He’s not my boy,” I said, handing Pokey his hat. “But he is part of my tribe, so he needs to look his best.” “Got it.” He turned to Pokey. “First, let’s go wash this good. It looks like there’s some glitter or something in it.” Pokey laughed and cast a glance at me before heading back with Dunn. Dunn turned to me as they were walking to the sink and I made a motion to my beard and mouthed, obviously, “LOSE THIS!” Dunn frowned and turned away, back to his project. One guy sat in the waiting area, clearly perturbed that I’d cut him in line – I could read it coming from him. Only in entitled hipster barber shops would a guy think to give attitude to me, a six-five, two-hundred eighty-five pound musclebeast, but that was the world in which we lived. “Some of us were in line,” he said. I smiled and hit him with a heavy wave of pheromones. “Thank you for letting us in,” I said, gently touching the head of my cock through my tight gym shorts – they kept no secrets. “Your generosity pleases me.” “Um…” He sniffed the air curiously. “You’re welcome?” he said, crossing his legs in an attempt to hide his sudden, swollen erection. “I mean, anything.” He bowed his head in shame, but couldn’t keep himself from looking at me, now that I’d made him infatuated. “Anything for you.” I smiled – weak-willed mortals. “Exactly,” I said, winking. “Anything for me.” Then I moved to the far side of the waiting area, where I could keep an eye on Pokey, but have some privacy while I texted AppleJack. ************************************************************************ @me: You still mad? @applejack: I’m not mad. Not exactly. I guess I’m disappointed. We’ve been friends our whole entire lives, Red. I can’t believe you’d think you had any better ally. @me: There’s nobody I’d rather have at my side. you know that! @applejack: Yeah, except you won’t make me a centaur. @me: C’mon, AppleJack. That’s not fair. It’s not that I don’t want you to be. @applejack: You make that dimwit kid a centaur! You make some porn star you just met a centaur! But your oldest friend… who, coincidentally, CREATED your whole brand… no, he gets to stay human @me: To make you a centaur, we have to have sex. @applejack:… @applejack:… @applejack: Like, what do you mean? What specifically? You don’t have to FUCK me, do you? Is that why you only pick porn stars and rodeo clowns? @me: Haha @applejack: I mean, I think I could do anything OTHER than that. You know, get super-high… @me: Actually, it’s just the opposite. You’d have to fuck ME. @applejack:… @applejack:… @applejack: I think I could do that. @me: hahaha @me: Except… It’s not just mechanical. We have to be “into” it for the mojo to work. @applejack: I think you owe it to me to try. @me: But what if it turns you queer, Applejack? Have you considered that? @applejack: So what great things am I doing as a straight man? When was the last time I even dated someone? College? Women don’t want me, Red. They never have. so what if it turned me queer? to have a cock like that… @me:… @me:… @me: Okay. We’ll try. But I can’t make any guarantees. @applejack: Thank you, Red. This means everything to me. @applejack:… @applejack:… @applejack: No pressure. @me: We’ll talk when I get home. Find some good flower. something that will fuck me up @applejack: I have the perfect thing. TTYL. Wear something sexy. Haha. @me: Hahaha ******************************************************************** His words echoed through my mind. “Why not me?” In all the years I’d known AppleJack, I think we’ve had two fights – and I’m not even sure I’d call them “fights,” maybe arguments at best – and even those were from our early days of sharing a living space, when we were both learning our boundaries. The closest we got to arguing now was sarcasm – we’re so codependent on each other that we might as well be married. I couldn’t even imagine a time when we wouldn’t be together – he called it my “Golden Girls” fantasy. “Why not me?” I’d never seen him so genuinely hurt like that – so raw. And he’d been right – I’d done nothing to deserve what was happening to me. I’d won the lottery. I’d drunk a magic potion, not gotten Odysseus back to Ithaca. What right did I have to deny anyone? It just kept coming back to the ugly truth: I didn’t find AppleJack attractive. His horse-face and his dumpy body – I think the reason we’d remained friends as long as we had was because I wasn’t attracted to him. Lusting for AppleJack would never be a chapter title in the book of my life. That said, wasn’t I supposed to be some rutty-sex demigod? Shouldn’t I have been, like, “Yeah, cock!” and just… found the inner drive? “Why not me?” Because I love you, but I have no lust for you. But I could never say that to him. Because I loved him – and I didn’t want to lose him. ********************************************************************** I looked up and noticed that Pokey and Dunn had disappeared – they’d been nearly finished so it didn’t take a genius to figure out why they’d gone to the office, or the back room, or wherever the hell they were. Pokey was no doubt “letting” Dunn suck his cock – that was what Pokey considered tipping. I was actually sorry I wasn’t getting to watch, frankly – Dunn could suck a good cock. I’d almost gotten distracted by my phone again when they emerged, Pokey leading the way, jubilant. Dunn had done a hard fade on the sides and back of his head and pulled the rest of Pokey’s blue cascade back into a ponytail. He looked like a European Soccer player or a super-hip lower east side douchebag. It wasn’t just the haircut – Pokey’d had his septum pierced, and a big silver hoop hung from the base of his nose, a small blue bead decorating it. His ears, too, matching hoops and beads. “Well, look at you!” I said, smiling. “Look at me!” he said, spinning and posing. “Ain’t I gorgeous?” Dunn, a dizzy smile on his face – and if I didn’t miss my guess, the taste of cum in his mouth – opened the cash register, removed all the money and offered it to Pokey. “Your tip,” he said, tears of joy in his eyes. “I know cutters don’t usually tip the clients, but it was such an honor to work with you. I want you to have it.” “Aw,” Pokey said, reaching for the money. “You’re so sweet…” I admonished him. “Pokey,” I said quietly, “not appropriate. Release him.” “No, it’s okay,” Dunn said to me, as if explaining. “I want him to have it!” “No you don’t. He’s doing something to you to make you think that.” “Red!” “Let him go, Pokey…” There was a moment – but with a dramatic sigh, Pokey obeyed, and I could almost feel the reins lifted from Dunn. “Spoil sport…” he mumbled. “You got a beautiful haircut, boy. Be grateful.” I looked at Dunn, who seemed to be wondering why he was standing there with the contents of the till in his hands. I hit him with my own wave of pheromones. “Put the cash back in the drawer, Dunn,” I said to him. “Forget it happened.” Dunn whispered, “Yes, my Lord,” as he swiftly obeyed, his erection renewed in his tight black jeans. “Ohhhh,” Pokey said, knowingly, “I reckon I get it now! You want him for yourself…” I chuckled. “Not just for me,” I said. “For US… get me?” Pokey hadn’t put two and two together – I needed to be more obvious. “A Dun IS a kind of horse,” I said quietly. Pokey got it. “I reckon it is,” he said, nodding while considering. “That’s about as right as rain. So… you gonna make him an offer or do you reckon we should talk to Cavalier first?” Talk to Cavalier first? I thought. Why? I didn’t need his permission to create centaurs. I mean, I knew we’d had this “Herd Master” thing we’d thrown around during sex, but was that serious? Did that take away my power to make my own choices? But before I’d had the chance to voice my thoughts to Pokey, Dunn interrupted. “Make me an offer?” Dunn asked, suddenly curious. “You like his hair that much?” He reached over and began stroking Pokey’s head affectionately. Pokey, like a good pony, leaned into it. “I do,” I said, smiling. “You’re a helluva groomsman.” He laughed. “Always taming the beasts,” he said, playing with Pokey’s ponytail, pulling on it gently until Pokey leaned his head back. “And so you guys want me to be a centaur? That’s cool.” “How’d you figure that?” Pokey asked, pulling slightly away from Dunn, but still keeping an arm around him. Dunn shrugged. “I looked you up after you did your voodoo on me last time,” he said to me. “You’re Pholus – reborn! – I read your story on your website, magic potion, transformation. It’s super-hot. And then you and the kid here show up today and he’s got blue hair – no shit blue hair. It’s totally real – it’s not dyed, it’s not affected – it’s porous and healthy… and blue. And then he hits me with the same smell-thing that you had – pheromones? – and I realized it was all true. You’re magical beings – you’re no-shit Centaurs.” He opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. “So make me an offer! Transform me! What do we gotta do?” ************************************************************************ Turned out there was a massage table in the back room of the barber shop where Dunn did piercings. It was a tiny room, barely enough space for the three of us – I’d tried to send Pokey off to the gym, but he’d insisted on watching this time – the same smell of leather and old smoke that hung comfortably throughout the shop was here, mixed with alcohol (shaken, not stirred) and nervous sweat. As soon as he’d shut the door, Dunn and I began kissing. He was playful, skilled – I’d never kissed a man with a pierced septum before, the weight of the jewelry on my lip was sexy. I sat on the edge of the table and he pushed his way between my legs while we made out. I unbuckled his belt and opened his jeans. Commando, which pleased me, Dunn’s impressively thick cock sported a PA, silver and heavy – he shaved his balls, but his bush was groomed very naturally. Otherwise, I could see his trail leading up under his leather vest with the same black with flecks of gray that decorated his chest, his upper pecs hidden by his beard. “Lemme eat you out,” he mumbled. “I’m dying to get a taste… dying… let me pleasure you before I fuck you.” He slowly dropped to his knees, sliding down my muscular torso, stopping briefly to suck my nipple (“We’re gonna pierce these,” he whispered.), then slid his tongue and the tip of his nose down the center groove of my abs. But instead of continuing to my cock, he spun me round so I faced the table and then yanked my shorts down, exposing my big, muscular ass, but trapping my cock. He spread my cheeks wide, breathed in deeply, losing himself in my scent, and then got to work, lovingly – skillfully – pleasing my hole. I leaned on my forearms, feeling my cock get hard somewhere out of my reach. I’d never experienced someone as talented as Dunn eat me out. I mean, I’d met guys who were into rimming and ass-play, enthusiasts, but they were weekend warriors compared to Dunn! Even Cavalier, with all his professional experience, couldn’t evoke the feelings I was having now – this was a man born to eat ass! I was starting to believe he was going to give me an oral anal-orgasm. An oral analgasm. My inability to access my own cock was killing me, adding to the excruciating pleasure. And there was Pokey, as predictable as a porn plot, climbing up on the head of the table, pulling his big, hard cock out of his shorts and slapping me in the face with it until I took it in my mouth. “I thought you were gonna watch,” I said, allowing the whole of his plum-sized glans in my mouth, tasting the salty-sweetness of his pre-cum. “I am watching,” he responded, forcing me to take more. Dunn had me so open and sloppy wet that when he dropped the heft of his PA-enhanced thickness into my hole, it just slammed against my prostate in big, solid reverberations, a weighted log pounding into me. He slapped my ass cheek. “You like that, demigod?” he asked roughly. “Say yes.” I pulled my mouth off Pokey’s cock. “Yes,” I said, breathing heavily. “Good,” he growled in my ear. “Suck blueboy’s cock and get ready for the best mortal fuck you’ll ever have.” He wasn’t just talking. Cavalier may have been a professional, but his fuck had been all-business, a bit of “these are my standard moves and now it’s your turn with them” – I mean, I’d enjoyed myself, but it was nothing compared to the fucking I was getting from Dunn. Here was a guy who wasn’t only skilled, he was passionate – he loved the act. And Dunn was clearly experienced. A young top could learn a lot from him – I’d hoped Pokey was truly paying attention. I knew I was. “You ready for my cum, demigod?” he asked. “You ready for MY offering?” “Give it to me,” I said, removing my mouth from Pokey’s cock and masturbating it. “It’s the price of apotheosis!” He paid that price in full. The energy was so great, even Pokey shot his load, filling me from both ends with my favorite filling. I was curious if Pokey could feel the transfer of energy that changed Dunn from human to beast. From the way Dunn was reacting inside me, he could definitely feel something – our bond was forming. “It’s happening,” he said, slapping my ass with both hands. “Oh fuck, Pholus, this is incredible!” Pokey laughed. “I reckon the incredible’s just starting,” he said. “Look at your body!” Dunn hadn’t been in any kind of real shape – he’d moved with the grace of someone who’d known some sort of athletics at some point in time in his life, but he clearly had no regular gym routine now. He was someone you could hang clothes off of, though, and he looked like a model with his slick hair, his massive black beard, and all that silver jewelry. He was the kind of guy you’d look at and say, “Man, with a body, he could be unstoppable!” Well, now he was unstoppable. Like Pokey, he hadn’t gained much muscle mass – he retained his leanness, his lanky build – but now he was more like a swimmer or a Greek statue, ripped, tight, every striation visible, every muscle sculpted to perfection. He opened his vest and revealed his abs to us, flat and smooth, again, not an ounce of fat, but hairy and tempting, eight-pack or not. His cock – I’d used the word “log” to describe it earlier, but now it actually was, thick and heavy, the foreskin holding on as best it could. The PA seemed small now compared to how it appeared before. We all watched his cock grow to its new full size, rock hard, rivaling Pokey. “Your turn,” he said to the boy, that familiar glint in his eye. Pokey smiled, stripping his shorts off as he slid down the table. “Yee-haw,” he laughed. “Show me what you got, big daddy. Let’s see how long you stay on the ride.” He ate Pokey’s ass while I ate his, losing myself in his hairy crack, his scent – I felt like I could identify any of my centaurs by smell alone, each was unique and individual. And while he fucked Pokey, I fucked him – and he was amazed at being able to take my cock. Physics be damned – we were magical beings now! We’d been loud and shameless – we’d been beasts – grunting and screaming and unapologetically fucking in the backroom of the barber shop. They could definitely hear us – they could probably smell us over the after-shave. But damn that had been a nice way to spend the morning – and Pokey’d gotten a great haircut! When we went back into the shop, nobody was there – even the other cutter had taken off. “Looks like we scared ‘em all away,” Dunn said, flexing his arms in the wall mirrors. “Damn! This is fucking awesome!” “You just wait,” Pokey said, redressed and ready to go. Dunn kissed him lovingly. “Anytime you want a good fuck, boy, you just drop in.” He patted Pokey on the ass and sent him toward the door. Then he hugged me. “How can I ever thank you for this? This incredible gift?” I winked. “Just keep my beard looking neat,” I said. He smiled. “That’s the price of immortality? I’ll pay it.” He kissed me and I could taste Pokey’s cum on his breath. “Thank you, Pholus. I’m yours forever.” I snorted. “In a thousand years, I’ll remind you you said that.” AFTERWORD: Thank you for reading! If you liked this selection, feel free to buy the whole story HERE on AMAZON

THE PARAGON PORN QUARANTINE by absman420 “Congratulations, Domenic! You have successfully logged onto the Paragon Porn Employee Reference Site! Please take a moment to fill out your profile page, then we will pair your headset with your bluetooth connection. Please click HERE.” I do. It brings up a page for personal information, regular stuff: address, phone number, payroll forms, social security, the whole routine. I’ve filled out enough of this sort of thing through the years -- business is business, after all -- even in porn companies, you have to pay taxes, it seems. That I’ve even come this far is comical in itself. When my buddy Austin approached me at the gym, I thought he was kidding. I mean, I knew he was a “porn star” -- I guess I shouldn’t use sarcastic quotes there, he’s a legit star, not some guy who’s filmed a couple scenes and uses the title. In that world, Austin was a celebrity -- his name alone could sell millions of units of merch -- he won awards (there are awards!) -- and all the little twinks loved him. (And he loved them -- often.) We worked out at the same gym, we worked out at the same time, we had nearly identical physiques, but we weren’t partners. He preferred entertaining some different fan-obsessed boy daily and I preferred to train alone. 2020 was the year I turned forty and I’d just done my first official contest -- I’d placed second in “Masters” physique, so I was flying high on myself. I’d performed well on stage, mask and all, probably from having been an actor/dancer in my 20’s, and my stage-savvy helped me. And then Austin approached me in the gym and asked me if I’d be into doing some porn? What ego doesn’t need that stroke? I mean, I’d been an actor most of my life -- I knew how to work an audience -- and I’d always been curious about porn. Like… how do you motivate yourself? How do you fuck in front of a crew? Is there any intimacy or is it all business? Is there a script or can you improvise? What do you tell your mom? “Serious?” I asked Austin. “Yeah, sure, why not?” he said, adjusting his mask. “You got the bod for it. And I think you got the cock…” He glanced purposefully down at my crotch -- I adjusted myself self-consciously -- he smirked. It wasn’t the best cock, but it did okay. Was it a porn-star cock? Doubtful. “No one complains,” I said. He winked and said, “I sure wouldn’t.” I chuckled. “Tease,” I said. “You like the twinky boys.” He smiled professionally (seductively). “I like everybody.” I smiled -- the joke was easy but I didn’t take it. “Listen,” he said, “I’m exclusive with Paragon -- they’re great! Best house I’ve ever worked for. They really care about the talent, they provide opportunity for growth, investment, marketing and stuff to help you build your brand.” “That sounds... surprisingly great! I’ve heard that porn kind of chews guys up and spits them out.” He shrugged. “Some studios do,” he said. “It’s a shame. It’s a great way to make a living -- you just can’t let yourself get treated like shit.” I laughed. “You sound like a salesman, not an actor!” “I’m a testimonial. Four years ago, I was just a physique model trying to bust out of the pack on IG -- now I’m a freakin’ celebrity! And I owe it all to Paragon. And they’re looking for muscle tops right now, preferably mature, level-headed guys without sexual hang-ups. I thought of you right away.” I was genuinely flattered. “You did? Thank you,” I said. “I’ve always been curious about porn, honestly… as an actor, I mean. I know that sounds weird…” “No, not weird at all -- we’re not robots. It’s all about creativity -- dude, it’s fun. Give the guy a call and do the initial interview -- everything’s on facetime now… you know, cuz of the COVID, so it’s even easier. I mean, in my day, I had to strip naked and blow the guy…. Kidding, kidding!” He gave me a card -- I thanked him and we elbow-bumped. “Let me know how it goes,” he said, indicating the card. “My number’s on there -- shoot me a text.” “I will, thanks!” I pocketed the card and resumed my set -- he left with his pretty partner, no doubt to fuck. Maybe porn wouldn’t be so bad... ***************************************************************************** “Please select your Virtual Training Coordinator.” There are five different profile pictures to choose from, each a different type -- a lean black guy with mind-blowing abs; a twinky bottom with an impossible bubble butt; a professorial type, all nerdy and neat; a bad boy in his leathers. I pick the one most like me -- a middle-aged, well-muscled bearded guy with a slight roid-gut wearing workout tights that do nothing to hide his prodigious manhood. His blurb reads: “COACH ROD -- great for Jocks and Sports-Gear Fetishes. From straight guys who’ve never sucked a dick to muscle daddies looking to be young again, COACH ROD is for you.” I select “COACH ROD” and a download begins -- I have to give it permission -- finally a pop-up appears with what looks like a FaceTime window with the Coach, a CGI character that seems impressively complex. He’s sitting on the edge of a desk in a locker room/ office -- the place just exudes organized chaos. He picks up a whiteboard and writes on it, then holds it to the camera. “PUT ON THE HEADSET.” “Oh,” I say. I quickly slip the headset on my head and adjust the microphone while I say, “Got it.” “Great,” he replies, his AI voice smooth and rich -- a baritone. “Can you hear me okay? Do I sound clear?” “Yes, I hear you fine -- the volume’s okay.” “Great. Give me a second -- I’m downloading your profile information. We’ll finish filling out your paperwork together and we’ll let my algorithm get to know you a little better, then we’ll work our way through the employee training program. It’ll give us something to do during your two-week quarantine period, right?” “Sure,” I say -- dictating was better than typing anyday. “Seems like kind of a big set-up…” “...for a porn company?” Coach Rod finishes. “Yeah, maybe. I think you’ll find Paragon is the premier studio for a reason -- we treat our people well. Our performers aren’t just assets -- they’re family. It’s too easy in this business to find low self-esteem, drug abuse, burn out, a real use ‘em up and throw ‘em out mentality. Paragon doesn’t have that.” He pauses for just a second, holding up a finger in a “wait a minute” pose. “Okay, I’ve just finished downloading the results of your physical this morning and I’m going to put together a diet/ training program that will better address your needs. You’re in good shape, Dom -- especially for your age -- but you can be significantly better.” When I don’t respond, he looks up into the camera and says, “Problem?” I smile. “I guess I’m just blown away by this technology,” I say. He smiles and touches his muscular body. “Yeah, I’m pretty real, aren’t I? Listen, I’m just an instruction program -- I can be whatever you think you learn best from. Do you want me to change race? Age? Costume? More muscle? Big, shameless cock? Anything that’ll keep you focused. As I get to know you better, I’ll probably refine myself, both in looks and motivational approach, to get the best out of you. We want to launch a successful career for you with Paragon -- that’s always the goal.” “Thanks, Coach,” I say. He laughs. “See? You’re gonna do just fine. Now, let’s start with some basics. I’m gonna ask you a bunch of random questions to get to know you better. Answer honestly -- I’m not going to judge you -- I can’t, I’m just an algorithm right? -- but your truthfulness will matter, so don’t be embarrassed or ashamed, no matter how weird the answer might seem. Okay?” “Go ahead -- shoot!” “You’re gay, right? 100% gay/ 0% straight? Or is there some pussy love in you someplace?” “Well, I fucked my high school girlfriend -- does that count for something? Of course, that was decades ago and I haven’t been with a woman since. So, 100%, yeah.” Coach smiles -- it looks so real. “Top or Bottom?” “Top.” That smile again, as if he knows something. “Percentage?” “If I say a hundred, it doesn’t sound like you’ll believe me, but it pretty much is. I’ve bottomed a couple times but it’s never worked out well.” He hmphs -- a computer hmphs! “Is that because it hurt too much or because it didn’t feel natural?” “Both, I guess. And don’t tell me it’s cuz I haven’t met the right dick, because I assure you, I have! I’m just… not a bottom.” “Okay,” he says, matter of factly. “Being vers will get you more gigs, but maybe if you have other skills. Do you suck cock?” “Uh… yeah, sometimes.” “Do you like it?” “Yeah, it’s okay.” “Are you good?” “Uh… I think I’m okay.” He looks up from his notes into the camera. “Have you ever made a guy cum?” “From a blowjob? No.” “From lacking technique or desire?” “Jesus… these questions.” He smiles a tight smile. “Don’t evade. Answer it -- honestly.” I shake my head as if I’m searching for something to say. “Um… I don’t know.” He nods. “Fair enough. Would you like to watch a training video?” “Excuse me, what? A training video? Are you kidding?” “Of course. Why not? It’s a skill -- and skills can be learned. You learned to ride a bike, right?” “Yeah,” I say, trying to find some way of arguing it. “I guess. It just seems… I’ve never considered...?” A link pops up in a text window below him. “Click on the link,” he says. “We’ll make fun of the acting together afterward!” “Ok, what the hell? I got nothin’ better to do.” “Good man!” I click the link. ******************************************************************************************* You’re in a classroom -- no, it’s a movie set of a classroom -- it appears functional but it’s not real. The teacher sits on the edge of the desk, except he’s clearly not a teacher -- he’s too muscular and tan. Even in his short sleeve dress shirt, his neck ink and forearm tats give him away. Gruffly handsome, his hair and beard are the same shaggy buzz. As he leans against the front of the desk, you see his pants are unzipped and open, revealing his sizeable erection. Aside from you, there are two other boys in the shot. Both are young and handsome, a blond and a brunette in schoolboy uniforms. You are all three on your knees at the feet of the teacher, looking up at him. The brunette is sucking the teacher’s cock while you and the blond look on. You’re in a porn movie, you realize. That makes sense -- just follow the script. “Okay, that’s not bad,” the teacher says. “Work around the base of the glans a little more. Good, good. Like that, yes.” The brunette, confident, attempts to deep throat the “teacher’s” huge cock, but ends up choking and gagging. He backs off immediately, sitting back on his heels. “That’s okay,” the teacher says. “Your eyes are bigger than your throat. That’s why we’re here, to learn. Who’s next? Who wants to give it a try?” He waggles his hard dick. “You?” He looks at you, and you don’t need anything more of an invitation -- his cock is magnificent. (Well, all cocks are magnificent in your eyes -- cockslut!) -- so you shuffle on your knees into a more advantageous position for the camera and you get to work. The script calls for you to be hesitant at first, maybe intimidated -- it’s hard for you to play that when this cock is so clearly suckable -- but you’re an actor, so you do what the director tells you. The “teacher” develops a nice dollop of pre-cum at the tip of his dick as you play with his balls -- he told you right before filming that he’d heard how amazing your mouth was and how much he was looking forward to this scene -- looking into his eyes, you gently lap it off with the tip of your tongue, teasing the slit of his cock for more. Fuck, that’s good! Sweet and slick, it fires you up for more. You grip the base of his shaft with your left hand and begin to roll your tongue around his mushrooming head. “Yes,” he moans. “Very nice.” He begins “instructing” you -- that’s the point of this video, remember -- techniques to stimulate the glans, using the tongue to tickle the very spot where the ends of the glans merge, how to create just enough suction -- this is a swirl, this is a tease, this is how to stimulate the nerve endings -- you demonstrate as he discusses. The whole thing feels very sophomoric to you, you who’s born to suck cock, you who’s such a natural. Without waiting, you plunge deep, taking this spectacular cock into your throat, past your naturally suppressed gag-reflex. You hold your breath and constrict your throat slightly, letting his head run along the soft tissue of your throat. Your tongue is magic. He moans -- loudly. “Yes,” he says. “Very good -- you’re a natural.” You start bobbing your head in a rhythm that grips him, countering that by pulling on his balls. You can tell he’s close -- you’re connected -- it’s a gift you have -- so you decide instead of teasing him and passing him to the blond boy, you’re going to finish him off yourself, this beautiful man and his tasty cock. Who could blame you? You got into porn to show off your skills, after all -- show them! You deep-throat him again and you can actually feel his balls churn. Your mouth races his cum to the tip of his cock -- you pull your head away just in time to have him shoot two long white ropes across your face, then you take his cock back in your mouth and swallow the rest -- your reward. Your drug of choice. You continue sucking him, draining him until there’s no more to get -- what a hunger you have! Little slut. “What a mouth you have!” the teacher praised. “That’s the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten from a Freshman!” You smile, still gripping the base of his dick, and lovingly kiss the head, never breaking eye contact. “I wanna see what he does that’s so great,” the brunette says, standing and revealing his own erection. “Suck my dick!” “No!” complains the blond. “I want him to show me -- I haven’t gotten to do anything yet.” “Don’t worry, boys,” you say, taking one of their cocks in each hand. “I can do this all day!” You suck the knob on one, then switch to the other. They both taste good. “See, boys?” said the teacher, “that’s the kind of cockslut you should aspire to be! You just gotta love it…” And you do -- big cocks, little cocks, thick cocks, bent cocks, heavy cocks, knobby cocks, uncut cocks, hairy cocks, pierced cocks, leaky cocks, old cocks -- you love cocks! Not just having them in your mouth, but pleasing them, pleasuring them, getting them to cum in your mouth… This is an instructional video -- here’s how you get two guys off at the same time. Getting a guy to cum is powerful enough -- getting two guys at once shows you’re a master of technique and desire. When the blond and the brunette are simultaneously shooting their loads across your face, you know what a cockslut you are -- how much you truly love it. The teacher brings your cum-covered face in for a deep, loving kiss. You’re Teacher’s Pet. Fade Out -- End Scene ************************************************************************************************** I wake in the morning to the sun streaming in the window, pleasant and warm, even the cinderblock dorm rooms don’t seem so stark in this light. I’m excited to work out -- my quarantine gym time is from 8-10am, giving me a half hour to have some coffee and smoke a bowl before I have to head down. I do hate working out alone, but it’s way better than not working out at all. (If I had to go through a two-week quarantine with no gym, I think I’d go out of my mind!) As I sip and puff, I scan through my emails. There’s one from Coach Rod -- I’m tickled that my virtual trainer is reaching out to me virtually! (Stoner…) “Hey, Dom,” the email reads, “Check outside your door -- your meal-prep should’ve been delivered by now. I want to bump your training a notch and clean you up a bit before your big film debut! The meals are all labeled -- you’ll have six today -- you’ll see the consumption times on there, too! All good stuff -- I made it myself (haha). “Reply to this email to let me know it’s received and understood and I’ll see you at your Noon Training Session with me. In the meantime, enjoy the gym! Coach Rod.” This is so weird -- I respond so. Outside the door is a cooler with a stack of prepped meal containers. I bring it in the room and transfer the meals to my mini-fridge (but for the one I’m scheduled to eat) and then put the cooler back in the hallway. I continue to be surprised at the budget of Paragon -- this seems a long way to go just to film some pornography. Don’t people make that stuff on their iphones? Whatever -- I’ll enjoy the pampering when it’s offered. I could really use a cock. This quarantine has gotten me horny -- it’s been too long since I’ve had a cock in my mouth. (Hard to believe about a little cockslut like me! I can’t fucking WAIT to finally film and get some fucking relief!) I’d suck on a dildo, I want one in my mouth so bad, but I don’t own one. Fuck! Great time to be a top with an oral fixation. I eat my boring meal of egg-whites and oatmeal and then dress quickly for the gym, baggy shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. It’s a nice gym and I have an intense workout -- I think of all the people in quarantine without access to a gym -- I’m pumped and gently flexing in the mirrors when I notice someone in the pool on the other side of the glass wall. It’s the first time I’ve seen a live person in three days… ...and already I’m aching to suck his dick. He’s doing laps in the pool, lean and athletic, smooth and practiced. His back and arms are muscular and well-defined, strong but not big. I’m watching him swim back and forth and I’m gently touching myself. Shameful -- but I'm isolation-level horny, so it’s understandable. I watch him for a good five minutes before he finally finishes and pulls himself out of the water, his back to me. A scruffy-bearded redhead, wearing a neon green speedo, his ass is beyond spectacular. As he walks down the deck, he has to reach in his suit and adjust himself -- he’s not hurting in the front, either. What a beautiful, lithe body, not an ounce of fat on him! Is he a fellow actor? Dear God, let him be a fellow actor!!! As he disappears into the locker room, I bring myself back to reality. Damn, I’m horny -- I’m fucking hard watching a guy swim, wishing once again that I’d been on the swim team in high school. Anyway, enough regrets, time for my Training Session. ****************************************************************************** “How’d your workout go?” “Great! I must say, I was feeling kind of bad about having this incredible gym available while the rest of the country’s on lockdown.” The coach coaxes. “But…” “But then I get these great pumps and I get over it.” “You like showing off.” I laugh. “I’m not sure I’d make it a statement like that -- I mean, I like getting looked at. It took me a long time to get up the nerve to compete, though.” “But you’ve been an actor for years -- you’re comfortable on stage.” “Oh, I think that’s what helped my win, don’t get me wrong. But when you’re an actor, you’re playing a role. When you’re onstage in a tiny little poser in a bodybuilding, you’re you, as emotionally naked as you are physically -- it’s way different.” “Would you do it again?” “I don’t know. I mean, the dieting is hell and the shaving is endless… I mean, maybe. I don’t know.” Coach Rod smiles. “What if you had a really big dick that barely fit in your posers?” I laugh. “Everything’s a porn movie to you AI-generated training programs, isn’t it?” “And you evade answers by making jokes.” I think for a second -- how to phrase this? “What man wouldn’t?” I ask. “What man wouldn’t want a really big dick that barely fits in his posers?” “How big?” I laugh. “Porn-star big!” “That’s limited,” Coach Rod says. “Free associate. How big?” “I don’t know -- hyper-masculine, Tom-of-Finland big, ridiculous and seductive, impossible yet challenging, tempting but worrisome -- every teenage boy’s transformation-fantasy big! That’s what I mean. Or do you need numbers?” “No, no. You’ve given me plenty to work with. Let’s communicate with the medical staff and see what’s possible…” “Excuse me, what?” I sit up in my desk chair, nearly choking on my protein shake. “‘What’s possible?’ Did I hear you correctly? They can… do that?” Coach Rod laughs. “You’re asking that of an AI program.” “Which means?” “Which means they can do lots of stuff that used to not be possible.” “A porn company?” “A worldwide adult entertainment juggernaut with a reputation for incredible men with incredible abilities with which you’re entering an exclusive contract. They -- via me -- will drive you to be the best product you can be. Stick with it and I promise you’ll be very well taken care of. All you need to do is look good and fuck guys -- there are worse jobs.” “True...” “Do you have any idea how many men would kill for this opportunity? Do you know how lucky you are, to be entering off the street with no experience into this field at this level?” “I wonder if that’s what my high school guidance counselor would say?” He holds up a finger in a “wait a minute” gesture. “Your high school guidance counselor was Jonathan Witek -- he retired in 2018. By tracing his credit information, I see he has purchased Paragon’s online content for the last six years. He responds to movies about young twinks who turn the tables on and top their authority figures.” “Oh my God…” “With this in mind, we can surmise that he’d approve of your career choice. Perhaps he’ll even be a fan?” “This just gets weirder and weirder.” “Or better and better. Now, you’re scheduled to check in with the medic at 1pm -- you remember where that is, right?” (A facility map appears on the screen with an animated trail that leads from your dorm room to the medical center in the basement.) “I got it.” Coach reappears on screen and blows me a kiss. “Go get ‘em!” he says, smiling. “We’ll talk about doing a video when you get back.” “Okay -- peace.” The box goes blank -- Coach has “signed off”. ************************************************************************************ The medic is dressed in a blue Hazmat suit, which seems a little overboard for me -- his face is shielded and he’s masked beneath. I can only see his eyes, so I wouldn’t be able to identify him if I saw him naked. (I wonder what kind of dick he has?) He’s pleasant enough, but nowhere near the conversationalist my AI-generated Coach is. I try to engage him in conversation as he swabs my nose. “I think you scraped my brain,” I joke as he removes the swab. I can’t tell if he’s amused or not through his mask. “A lot of guys say that,” he responds. “I have to do it that hard.” I smile. “That’s what guys always say.” Nothing. I’m sitting in a chair that reminds me more of the dentist than a medic, but it’s comfortable. The medic sets up an IV for me, puts the needle in my forearm and tapes it in place. As he’s satisfied with the drip, he returns to my chart and reads it over. “Oh,” he says as he spots something he hadn’t seen before. “Says here you’re scheduled for some gential enhancements. Wanna get that started now?” I’m not sure how to take that information -- I’d barely mentioned it to Coach Rod a half an hour ago and here I am. “Sure,” I say, shrugging, not really believing him. “Why not? What have I got going on?” He goes to a cabinet and removes a device that’s connected to a bunch of tubes. It reminds me of a cock-pump, except it’s significantly larger, like it would hold everything. “You’re not wearing underwear, are you?” “Beneath my paper gown? What kind of porn star would I be?” I’m right, the whole of my genitals go inside the tube -- it really has a shape more like a swollen package, not just a cock -- lifting my paper examination gown, he begins sliding the pump on me without asking permission. It creates a seal around the base of my groin like a cock ring -- he then connects the hoses and power cords to a small USB port next to the examination chair. He pulls a pre-loaded syringe from a drawer and injects the contents into my IV. “This is gonna take about an hour or so to run the complete program,” he says in a way that sounds almost bored, like he’s done it a thousand times. “Would you like to watch a video?” “Oh, sure!” I say as he pulls out a VR-headset front he cabinet. “What you got?” He helps me put the headset on and insert the ear plugs. “You’ll like this,” he says as he presses a key on his pad. Just as the video starts, I can feel the suction begin on my groin. Oh damn, I think. This is gonna be good. ****************************************************************************************** You’re onstage at a bodybuilding contest -- no, it’s the set of a movie -- there’s no audience (they use cutaway shots and SFX for audience reactions), only a camera crew. You’re pumped and primed and crammed into your posers, the tiny pouch barely holds all of you, stretched as it is -- the root of your cock is plainly visible. You’re in the final posedown with the other men of your weight-class. The guy on your right is trouble, a big Russian with a back as wide as the Asian continent -- he’s blocky, though -- thick. He doesn’t have your natural aesthetic, your height. Or your huge package. You can’t help your genetics. When you were in high school, going through puberty, having a dick the size of yours made you feel self-conscious -- none of the other boys had dicks as big as yours. It made you feel a little freakish -- especially on the swim team! Perhaps because your balls were so oversized -- goose eggs at 14 -- you put on muscle easily. You started working with a coach and trainer because the owner of the gym saw your potential and you did your first contest at 19 -- you took the Open and the Teen Class! That posing would cause you to get hard was the challenge. Flexing would always get you hard. Your posing coach laughed it off at first -- “You get off on showing off!” he’d say, patting your shoulder as the two of you looked in the mirror and tried to ignore your rod. “You just can’t hide it as easy as some guys!” Even now, all these years later, flexing for others has the same effect on you -- it’s one of the reasons you stopped competing so much. Difficult enough to get past the “does he stuff his posers” memes online -- which secretly turn you on -- but as you got into the muscle worship scene (and started making some serious bank from it), you realized your flexing fetish got you bookings by the score! And sponsors (mostly underwear companies)! And now… movies! You and the big Russian with the acne-scarred back start the posedown. The third guy in the lineup -- the guy on your left -- he’s not even show-worthy, bulky, but with a thick, round ass that can’t be contained in his posers. So you start flexing for the “audience”, for each other, for yourself, and you feel your cock start to come to life, as it always does. Double-bis, to get attention, then you start flexing your legs. You shake your relaxed quad muscle then slap it and flex it hard at the same time, but this is just an excuse for the camera to get your growing cock in the shot and you know it. The big Russian plays along, jamming his leg up against yours and doing the same bit. You can see him checking you out -- his little dick gives him away. He runs his hands down the front of your flexed quad and he makes an “impressed” face. You flex your bicep and let him feel that, too. Meanwhile, your cock grows harder, already testing the limits of its spandex container. The other guy tries to jump in front and do some squat poses, low to the ground, aching for some camera time, some audience recognition. Both you and the Russian ignore him and turn around to do lat spreads. Going from that pose to back double-bi is what causes your cock to pop out of your trunks, the one thing you’ve always worried would happen in actual competition. It’s strangely liberating, letting it go, not able to stop it. You can still feel your balls contained by the strap, but your cock is free, bouncing up as you hold your pose -- when you turn around, the audience screams, -- or maybe you just hear that in your head (it’s a movie, isn’t it?). It doesn’t matter -- you continue your show, fluidly moving from pose to pose as your cock rises to full mast, its head just above your belly-button. The big Russian is hard as well, though his dick is contained in his strained posers. He faces you and, with a smirk on his face, begins punching your pecs. The other guy is on his knees, running his tongue up the grooves in your thigh, nuzzling your bull ball-sac. From your position, you can see his lower back tattoo -- above that magnificent ass -- of two powerful wings. The Russian is behind you, reaching around, running his hand down your cobbled abs, purposefully -- teasingly -- avoiding your huge cock. He pinches your nipples as you continue to flex. And that’s what makes you cum! You don’t even touch your cock -- your arms are up in a double-bis -- but you shoot a massive load anyway. So hard and far it hits the camera lens -- stripes of it coat the face of the guy on his knees and you can tell he’s loving it (and aching to get some of it in his hot hole). The big Russian is standing there pounding his cock. You flex a “Most Muscular” in his face and he shoots his load, which the other guy is more than eager to lap up. You and the Russian make out, feeling each other’s bodies as the other guy kneels there and shoots his load for the camera -- he doesn’t matter. Your cock is the star. ************************************************************************************* Another fantastic workout -- I’m gonna have to be careful or I’m gonna become a regular morning gym guy, even when my contract is up here. What am I now? Eight days into a fourteen day quarantine? Certainly no one could look at me and think me in any way unhealthy. My body is amazing! The training regime, the dietary control, and whatever they’re giving me supplementally in those IV’s is taking my physique to a whole different level. I look so good right now that I hate that no one is seeing me. I haven’t announced what I’m doing on IG yet, but I have put up some thirsty shots after my last few workouts. I’m getting a fuck-ton of hits, not to mention all the people trying to slide into my DM’s. I admit to feeling the slightest bit guilty about my gym access with everyone else on lockdown, so I don’t post videos of workouts like I’d like. For the sake of ease, I pretend I’m working out at home like everyone else. For my chest training today, I’m wearing a red stringer that scoops so low as to show off the entirety of my deep cleavage and a pair of spandex short-shorts, which barely -- BARELY -- cover my oversized package. It looks as though any second my gigantic cock is going to pop out, or flop out, or just wear the material down and tear out. I love being a tease with it -- I know what cockhounds guys are. (At least, I know what a cockhound I am -- and if I saw someone with a cock as hot as mine, I’d be all over him, too. I can’t blame them.) I’ve been dealing with it since being on the high school swim team, learning how to keep it in my Speedos. My gigantic cock -- my gorgeous, gigantic cock. And my swollen bull balls. That’s what got me here to Paragon, right? Austin saw me in my contest and thought, the way my package crammed my posers, I should be in porn! How right he is! Squeezing out the last few reps of cable crossovers, in the reflection of the mirror I can see the glass wall that separates the gym from the pool. I know he’s over there -- I’ve seen him doing laps in the corner of my eye -- that beautiful red-haired boy. So I waddle over to the glass wall and watch him swim. I can see myself in the reflection of the glass, so I practice posing -- my chest looks amazing! It doesn’t take more than a few poses for my dick to start to come to life. Whatever -- I fuckin’ love posing! As my erection starts to get obvious, the red-haired boy gets out of the pool. This time exiting on the side facing the glass wall, so I can see his front, which is just as spectacular as his back. He’s probably 5’10” 190 or so, rips so sharp his abs could cut someone. He wears a pair of black jammers so low on his tight hips that they expose his entire deeply grooved iliac furrow -- called the Adonis Belt -- and rest just above his cock, across his groomed pubis. Other than that and his scruffy beard, he’s completely hairless. Pulling himself up out of the pool, he doesn’t see me until he’s standing, shaking the water from his head. We make eye contact and he smiles an easy, genuine smile. Gorgeous. I smile back, knowing he’s seeing the erection he’s given me -- with my cock (in spandex) it’s a little more than obvious. I salute and wave -- he waves back. We can’t hear each other, so after a few awkward moments of staring, he points to his eyes, then points to me, then waves, heading off toward the locker room -- allowing me to see that ass again. Fuck that guy’s hot. Please, please, please, gods of pornography, let him be my scene-partner. Fucking six more days!!! ************************************************************************************************ Over the last few days, I’ve noticed that Coach Rod has gained some size, especially through his chest and traps (and some big, obvious nipples) -- he’s also dressed more provocatively lately, as if he’s purposefully exploiting my spandex fetish. He’s an AI program, I think. He’s clearly adapting to me -- right? “Coach,” I ask, “who picks what you’re wearing?” He smiles. “You can if you want. Click on this link…” (one appears in the text box) “...and you can pick specific items, or you can just tell me a genre or style and I can work from there. You respond best when I’m wearing spandex.” I laugh. “I know. Feel free to wear as many singlets or posers as you want.” “You got it!” “Tell me something,” I say as I act casual about getting my meal ready, “there’s a hot redhead who’s been swimming laps while I’m training. Do you know who that is?” Coach smiles -- if I didn’t know better, I’d say a knowing smile -- and he says, “Hold on -- let me check the schedule… oh, yeah! Eddie -- Eddie Ginger.” “Eddie GINGER…?” “His stage name. Which reminds me, we need to finalize YOUR stage name…” “Yeah, yeah. Tell me about Eddie Ginger instead.” Coach can’t stop smiling. “Do you like him?” “Of course I like him,” I say. “He’s fucking hot as fuck and I’m horny as a motherfucker! I’m so over this quarantine right now -- you have no idea! I swear to God I’m gonna stick my cock in the first hole I come across and pound on it like I’ve never fucked before!” “Then you’ll be happy to know Eddie’s your first scene partner.” I’m shocked. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask. “That beautiful boy? That beautiful, twenty-something boy is my first scene partner? Oh, fuck, look at this… my cock is already getting hard. I’m never gonna make five more days…” “Eddie’s a really nice guy -- and one of our top-sellers! He moves more units than the next three featured bottoms put together -- you’re very lucky, Dom. Working with him, you’re bound to get exposure.” “How did I win this golden ticket?” I ask. “I’ve always heard the porn industry chews ‘em up and spits ‘em out. As an actor, that’s what’s kept me AWAY from porn all these years! If I thought this were possible…” “Working your way up from the bottom is very hard,” Coach says. “That’s where there’s likely to be use and abuse -- guys who are desperate or addicted or lost -- very few make it out of that. Some are lucky -- they know the right people or they manage their online presence well enough -- but most blossom and die without rising to the level of Porn Star. In some ways, it’s just like Hollywood, right? And you? You got a feature film on a referral -- and that’s gonna piss so many people off. This guy appears out of nowhere and becomes a huge star -- it’s the American Porn Dream come true! It’s just perfect! If only we could finagle you into having been straight before we hired you… that’d be the Porn Hat Trick!” He laughs at his own joke -- how odd that AI can entertain itself. I shrug. “Sorry,” I say. “Can’t help it -- I like cock too much.” “Especially your own!” I laugh with my usual confidence. “Of course -- you know what I’m packing! And you know I love showing it off! You should’ve seen me in the locker rooms in high school -- stupid straight boys standing there with their jaws agape as I wagged my cock out of my Speedo. Do you have any idea how many teenage circle-jerk cock-worshipping scenes I started? Paragon should’ve filmed those!” “Speaking of which, shall we work on a masturbation video today? The one you did yesterday -- the one where you were standing there spinning your cock around like a tassel? -- the producers LOVED that!” “They did?” I ask excitedly. “They saw it? I thought we were just playing around?” Coach Rod was matter-of-fact. “It was good,” he said. “Part of my programming is to alert the producers to content that stands out. Especially from the newbies. They’ve invested a lot in you -- there’s no harm in showing them their money’s not wasted.” I shrug. “I suppose not. I just… I wasn’t being serious.” “That’s what they liked about it -- it had personality. It was obvious how much you enjoy your cock -- that came across very clearly. So let’s make another. I think we should do a seated one this time, so we can really focus on it. What do you think?” “I’m totally in,” I say, flopping down in the chair in front of the camera. “When do we start?” ************************************************************************************** As the video opens, you’re sitting back in a chair -- the camera is at a high angle, looking down, probably not a laptop -- you barely fit in frame, the focus is so tight, your muscles are so pumped. You wear a black baseball cap and a tan-colored thong that could easily be mistaken for nothing if seen out of the side of someone’s eye at the beach. You prefer thongs to jocks -- hung as you are, you prefer the freedom of a thong rather than the tight compression of a jockstrap. You’ll wear whatever the client wants, of course, but you prefer the aesthetic of a thong if given a choice. As you sit back in the chair, you give the audience a chance to appreciate your body, your size, your cuts, your ridiculous abs and obliques. The angle in which you sit, leaning back like this keeps your abs flexed without any effort at all -- you reach your arms above your head and stretch -- so seductive. You know the audience’s eyes are sliding down your torso and focusing on your insane dick -- you’ve done that move before. You flex your pecs, bouncing them slowly back and forth while staring at the camera -- your expression says “come get ‘em” -- but when you play with your bare, pink nipples, pinching them just slightly, your cock comes to life. That’s what everyone’s here to see, anyway -- heck, you’re just the co-star and you know it -- so you allow your cock to grow, quickly filling the confines of the lycra pouch. Keeping one hand on your nipple, you allow the other to trace down the heavy grooves of your abs -- the look on your face, amazed at your own development -- until your fingers land on the top edge of your smooth pubis, slipping along the band of your thong, which itself barely covers the root of your cock. A cock that keeps hardening, seeking escape. Palm down, you slip your fingers under the band of your thong, two on one side of your cock, two on the other, and you waggle the pouch back and forth, slipping the front down the lengthening shaft. Your cock seems to inflate as it’s exposed, like yeast in dough, until the only thing keeping it from springing out to its full glory is the head, still trapped in the pouch of the thong. You put your arms back behind your head, again flexing your impossible abs and weaving your hips back and forth, which makes your trapped cock’s struggle obvious as it aches for freedom. The look on your face seems to expect the viewer to jump through the screen and do just that -- set that beautiful cock loose! Finally, the material loses the battle and your cock pops out, arcs up and over, and slaps loudly on your tight abs, just above your navel, thick and full and near fully erect -- your balls are still in the pouch, so you pull the band down with one hand, pull your goose-eggs out with the other, and let the band slip behind them, the elastic helping to elevate and keep them in frame (for their fans)! You play with your nips again, which causes your cock to thrash about, seeking attention -- it’s nearly twelve inches long, coke-can thick, gorgeous and intimidating at the same time. A pearl white dollop of pre-cum forms at the tip -- you push your cock to the camera, offering it to the audience, then you bend down and actually lick it off yourself. You can put your own cock in your mouth! You start jacking it then, showing us how one hand can barely reach around the root of the thing. It takes both: one to stroke the upper cock, to encompass the head, and the other to work the thick root. It’s a technique you’ve mastered through the years and it’s somewhat hypnotic to watch, the same way a snake charmer tames a cobra. You’ve been jerking this bad boy off for an audience since the locker room on the high school swim team, getting off on the cheering when you’d cum, much less the endless college frat parties where you discovered real big-dick energy, where you learned a cock like you had could get you what you wanted. All you had to do was know how to use it. And you learned how to use it. Happily, it’s never made you cynical, or contemptuous -- you love cock too much. And even if everyone isn’t as lucky as you, a cock is a thing of beauty -- and they all deserve a little love -- big cocks, little cocks, thick cocks, bent cocks, heavy cocks, knobby cocks, uncut cocks, hairy cocks, pierced cocks, leaky cocks, old cocks. And now your cock, the grandest of them all, which is about to shoot. If their volume is up, they can hear the change in your breathing, as your body tries to get enough oxygen to power this explosion. Just as you’re about to shoot, you pull your hands away, revealing the magnificence of your fully erect unit, and the audience can see your balls churn just before two huge ropes of cum blow out of your cock, leaving streaks across your face. You get your mouth open for the third one, catching a great lot of it on your tongue -- you roll your eyes as if you’ve tasted meade. With your right hand, you slowly stroke the base again, allowing the burbling lava that is your cum to continue to spew from the head, coating itself in its own volume, running down the grooves of your abs to gather via the cum gutters of your adonis belt. Once again, you look in the camera, as if the audience is challenging you, and you lean over and flat tongue the tip of your cock, licking an ice cream cone’s amount of cum and swallowing in bliss. You wipe the rest off with the two fingers of your right hand, kiss those fingers, then use them to flash a peace-sign to the audience. The video fades out. ***************************************************************************************** Finally, I wake on the day my quarantine ends! The heavy focus on training and diet have me in incredible condition -- especially for a guy who’s forty -- I look amazing, better than when I’d competed! I’m not as tan as I’d like to be, but my cuts are totally visible and obvious, so I’m not stressed. On the bed, I’ve spread out a bunch of posers and jocks and a couple singlets -- I don’t know what the director’s going to want for the shoot today, so I figure I’ll bring options. Maybe Coach’ll have an opinion -- an AI opinion.... I open my laptop and Coach’s window pops up. He’s a monster now, a freak -- his muscles are so swollen, his body would be barely functional if it existed in real life. Still, he’s managed to squeeze that bulk into the barest of singlets -- an old-school 80’s low-cut, revealing nearly everything. He’s also a redhead, but I choose to ignore that. “Good morning, Dom!” he says with a smile, adjusting his substantial package. “You must be excited to shoot today!” “I am!” I say, mirroring him. “I’m trying to decide what I’ll bring to wear.” “I wouldn’t worry,” he says. “I’m pretty sure for most of it, you’ll be naked.” I smile indulgently. “I gotta start somewhere.” “This is casual -- jeans and a loose t-shirt. This is a ‘buddy-shoot’ -- they’re just testing for chemistry, experience, awareness. It’s not a ‘scene’ -- that usually has a script, or an intent. This is just two guys getting to know each other. It’s easy!” “Easy for you to say,” I say. “I’m horny as fuck. I’m liable to blow the minute we shake hands!” “I doubt it,” he says confidently. “You’ll remember your training.” “So what if I suck or something -- what if I can’t cum or I’m terrible? Will they ship me out? After all this?” He laughs indulgently. “That won’t happen. Believe me, you’re ready. I’ve had two weeks with you -- normally, I get one long Saturday to do it all. The quarantine has been great for us in that regard. You’re here in our bubble for the next six weeks to shoot a shit-ton of content. After that, we’ll reevaluate your contract and go from there -- to be transparent, most of our models choose to stay here in the bubble and continue to shoot. I mean, why not? Unlike the rest of California, you get access to a gym during lockdown.” I chuckle. “That would piss a lot of people off.” He pinches his nipple. “All the more reason.” Ultimately, we settle on my blue posers (just cuz I don’t like the look of my cock down the leg of my pants -- too obvious) under jeans. I prefer a big bulge. On top, I wear a loose, scoop-neck t-shirt, which does display my cleavage, but whatever. My scruff is trimmed and my pump is obvious as I proceed to the studio in the basement. We’re filming in studio 2B, one of the smaller, more “intimate” studios -- I can see a gym set and a dungeon set as I walk along -- I’m so excited! As I enter, there are three people already present -- it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen live people, even longer since I’ve seen people without masks within six feet of each other -- the cameraman is obvious as he tinkers with equipment, setting lights, and running cables. He looks to be about my age, though in nowhere near as good condition, wearing a backwards baseball cap. The other two are talking quietly together. One is the gorgeous redhead from the pool, now wearing jeans and a tank top, and the other is who I assume is the Director. He’s a handsome man in his mid-thirties, slightly stout but not chubby in his tight black jeans and his loose flowered top. When I enter, they both turn and see me -- smiles break out on their faces. “Big Daddy!” the guy I assume is the director says. “You found us!” I smile -- I was loving my stage name: Big Daddy Domenic -- or Big Daddy Dom. (C’mon -- that’s damn funny. And isn’t porn built on puns?) “Yeah,” I laugh. “I followed the breadcrumbs.” The redhead smirks and adds, “No surprise -- they were coated with pheromones.” We all laugh together -- I’m instantly at ease, even if I’m crushing harder than ever. “I’m Michael McFly,” the Director says, extending his hand to shake. (“Why wouldn’t the director have a stupid stage name in porn like everyone else?” I think, shaking it.) “I’m so excited to be talking to human beings!” I say, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “For the last few weeks, I’ve just been spying on people through glass walls.” The redhead laughs, knowing I mean the joke for him. “And this is Eddie Ginger,” the Director says, indicating what I already knew. I hold out my hand to Eddie and instead of shaking it, he hugs me, a warm and genuine gesture. He’s firm but gentle and he smells of clean soap and freshness -- my cock plumps immediately -- I know he can feel it. “Nice to finally meet,” he says quietly in my ear. “I’m excited to film with you.” “So am I,” I whisper back, inadvertently pressing my package against him. “Obviously.” He laughs and slaps my ass as he steps back. “We’re gonna have fun, Dom,” he says, smiling. “It won’t even feel like your first time.” The Director McFly jumps in. “You’re not nervous?” he asks me, gripping my arm around the tricep. “There’s no need for that -- Eddie’s a pro!” “No, no,” I say, holding up my hands in surrender. “I’m excited, not nervous. Excited.” McFly glanced at my package. “So we see,” he says, flicking his eyebrows. I may’ve reddened, a little embarrassed, but Eddie seems to find that adorable! Aside from the camera equipment, there’s only a sectional sofa with a daybed, flat and clean and decorated with a few throws. The walls are industrial gray and bare -- nothing to pull the eye -- but the lights are warm, pink and soft. The Director has us sit on the sectional while he and the cameraman adjust lights and sound. Eddie makes small talk with me about my quarantine and how he finds it funny that we spied each other through the wall -- he says he went back to his room and jerked off. I’m starting to get hard again when the Director says, “All right, looks like we’re ready to get rolling. You guys ready?” “Yeah!” Eddie says excitedly. “Sure am!” I say, ready for anything. “All right, gentlemen, let’s have some fun -- and… ACTION!” And the moment he says “ACTION” I feel dizzy… something deep... ************************************************************************************************* You’re on the set of a porn movie -- there’s only a sectional sofa in frame. You share this sofa with an incredibly hot redhead, sleek and muscular, with cream-colored skin and the small remains of the tan freckles of his youth. He wears comfortable jeans and a red tank top with a unicorn printed on it -- you’re in jeans and a loose low-cut t-shirt, humble-bragging on your ample cleavage. DIRECTOR’S VOICE (off-camera): Hey, everybody! Welcome to another Paragon Porn First Timer Video. We have the always incredible Eddie Ginger with us today as our experienced model. Eddie waves to the camera. “Hi!” he says, smiling. “Been a hot minute since we’ve filmed.” DIRECTOR’S VOICE: And he’s joined today by our newbie, Big Daddy Dom, right? You laugh. “Yeah,” you say. “Domenic Luger. Just Dom is fine.” “Oh, but I like Big Daddy,” says Eddie, punching you in the arm. You smile at him. DIRECTOR’S VOICE: And Dom, this is your first time doing something like this? You look around nervously, glancing into the camera. “Yeah,” you say, with a bit of an enigmatic smile. “But I’m looking forward to it.” “Me, too!” Eddie chimes in, patting your knee. DIRECTOR’S VOICE: So you’ve never sucked a dick before? You act embarrassed. “No,” you lie. “I mean, guys have sucked mine -- guys have BEGGED to suck mine -- but I’ve never…” DIRECTOR’S VOICE: But you’re gonna try today? You look at Eddie enthusiastically -- VERY enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah,” you say, trying not to smile. “Looking forward to it.” DIRECTOR’S VOICE: Well, maybe you guys should do your first kiss. The two of you glance at each other like you approve the idea -- small, teasing smiles -- he slides across the sofa to be closer to you. You wrap your upstage hand around his neck and gently pull him in -- he allows this, already submitting to you. His lips are soft, gentle but confident -- his kiss is more tender than you expect, a little playful, too -- surprisingly intimate. You kiss lightly a few more times, then you finally go in for something a little more serious. Already you feel a connection. As you pull apart, you both mumble “Wow!” and then laugh -- he falls into your arms and you begin kissing a little more seriously. “Take this off,” you say, pulling his tank slightly. He strips it off, exposing his defined torso and his puffy pink nipples -- his abs are so cut and sweet, small little veins evident across his thin skin. “Damn,” you say, running your hand up along his strong core until it ends up cupping his pec and squeezing his nipple -- he gasps. “Look at you and your hot body…” DIRECTOR’S VOICE: Yeah, but Dom, show him YOUR abs! “But I just got off a show,” you say, raising your arms so Eddie could remove your shirt. “So it’s not completely fair…” “Holy shit,” Eddie says as he reveals your abs. “Holy shit -- you praise ME? Dude, LOOK at these abs -- eight pack?” You smirk. “Very early in the morning, before I’ve eaten, yes.” He removes the shirt and you flex for him (which always turns you on.) You bounce your pecs, which makes him flat-palm your chest -- he’s smiling a gleeful grin, clearly enjoying himself touching you. DIRECTOR’S VOICE: You said you just came off a show? A bodybuilding contest? “Yeah,” you say, continuing to flex for Eddie. He’s feeling the peak of your bicep right now. “I compete in what’s called ‘Classic Bodybuilding’ -- we don’t go as big as the freaks.” DIRECTOR’S VOICE: You look very big. “Everything’s very big,” you tease, winking obviously. You indicate your jeans to Eddie. “Help me get these things off.” You both stand, you and Eddie kissing as he unbuttons the waist and fly of your jeans. You keep your hands behind your head and your abs flexed as he opens the waist, revealing the blue poser you’re wearing beneath. “Sexy,” he says, gently pulling the waistband of the posers, then getting back to work on the jeans. He has a hard time getting them down over your thighs -- and you don’t help him by keeping them flexed so he has to struggle. You love to tease. “Damn,” he says, smiling. “You weren’t kidding everything’s big!” “Big thighs is why I’m a bodybuilder, not a physique competitor. Pull ‘em like you mean it!” His tugging makes your package flop around, which you love. Finally, he gets them down to your ankles and you step out of them -- he remains kneeling. “Holy shit,” Eddie says, eye-level with your pouch. DIRECTOR’S VOICE: Do you have to have those specially made? You smirk, adjusting yourself. “Yeah, I can barely squeeze myself into the standard ones -- though I like trying! I worry that one day I’m gonna be onstage and pop right out.” Eddie strokes your thighs and gently grips your hamstrings as he nuzzles into your package. He then licks his tongue up your spandex-fighting cock until he gets to the root, itself barely covered by the waistband of the poser. DIRECTOR’S VOICE: That would make a good movie. Would you mind flexing for us? “Not at all,” you say, and you begin your routine. Flexing has always turned you on -- it’s your favorite part of the sport, certainly not the training! No, it’s listening to the audience screaming, seeing the disbelief and awe in their faces, the desire, the envy. Of course you get hard when you flex. And Eddie is right there, worshipping away, stroking and punching and feeling everything he can, imprinting it onto his fantasies. Facing him, you do an ab/thigh pose, so he can see your half-hard monster straining, yearning for escape. He takes the bait, gripping the waistband with both hands and slowly pulling it down, revealing the entirety of your beautiful cock. When the head pops out, it swings up and swats him on his fuzzy chin. He grins broadly and kisses the head, as you step out of your posers. “Oh, yeah,” Eddie mumbles as he takes it in his mouth -- or as much as he can, which is a surprising amount (more than half). He pulls back and spits to help lube it, then wraps a hand around the base to stroke while he sucks. He’s got a good mouth -- well, he should. (He’s a professional.) More, he’s not afraid of your balls, big as they are. He squeezes and strokes and gently pulls on them, accenting the pleasure he gives to your cock. Adding to your enjoyment, you begin to pinch your ample nipples. You expected to lose track of the camera, to forget it’s there and just focus on your technique. But it’s just the opposite, you’re very aware of the camera -- it’s like you’re showing off for it, opening up angles for better views, making love to it. You know the camera loves your flexed abs as you lean slightly back to make a better picture, the swollen cum-gutters taking the focus right to your magnificent cock, which Eddie slaves away on. He’s got you on the edge and he knows it -- you can see the glint in this eye -- but it’s way too early to cum, horny as you are. No, you want a taste of him first. As he pulls off your cock to catch his breath, you pull him up into a kiss. He wraps his arms around your neck, allowing you both hands free to open his pants. Turning his back to the camera, you slide your hands down over the cakes of his ass and bring his jeans with them, giving a clear shot of his spectacular bubble butt. Spinning him around, you seat him on the sectional and pull his jeans off him -- he leans back, straightening his legs and flexing his own fine abs. He’s got a beautiful cock, uncut, maybe eight-and-a-half inches, pretty pink head -- he leaks precum. You kneel between his legs and kiss him deeply -- it’s hard for him to resist the urge to wrap his legs around your torso, but he does make a show of embracing you with them, gorgeous muscular limbs. You bite his fuzzy little chin, then kiss his neck, working your way down his beautiful body, his pale skin and bright pink nipples (which you make a show of working), then you’re licking HIS abs, defined and obvious, even if not as developed as your own. Finally, you’re at the trimmed little patch of auburn pubes and you can feel his hard cock stroking your cheek as you kiss the base of it. As an actor, you’d like to continue the charade of having never sucked a cock before, but your own internal horniness casts that aside quickly. You’re on his cock like a whore on crack, the sweet taste of precum your drug of choice. It’s no small cock -- Eddie’s a porn-star, remember -- and whether a bottom or not, it’s a nice piece. You’ve been dying for a cock, much less a nice cock, much less THIS fantasy cock for a while now! You’re conflicted about taking your time and savoring the moment or just banging out a desperate load then going for the slow cook on the second. But then you remember teasing the camera is your job, so you make a show of it. It’s possible that Eddie’s that good an actor, but his reactions seem very real, as if he’s legitimately turned on by what you’re doing. You’ve no reason to doubt it -- you are. Fuck, you’re so turned on, living this fantasy cum true, that you never want to step out of your filming bubble. You’ll stay here forever fucking hot guys for fun and profit. (You already want a scene with Austin to thank him.) And then you’re just deep-throating him and going to town, bobbing your head effortlessly on his beautiful dick -- how happy you are to have a cock in your mouth again! The sheer joy of that drowns out any thought of pacing for the camera or making the moment last -- you’re too eager to make this beauty cum! For his part, Eddie moans and rolls his head. He’s up on his elbows, leaning back, so he can look down across his flexed abs at your effort -- he’s supposed to be the “experienced” guy, remember? “I’m gonna shoot,” he moans, as you tug his balls. “Oh, Big Daddy, I’m gonna shoot!” You pull your mouth off his cock, still stroking the base, just in time for him to orgasm, the first volley hitting you right on your tongue. You deep-throat him and he screams, thrusting into your mouth. You flat-tongue his big dick, showing the camera how much cum he produced, and just swallow it all. “Oh, fuck, Big Daddy,” he mumbles. “Oh, fuck…” You advance onto the sectional and kiss him, sharing his taste. Then, in a semi-push-up position, you continue to slide up his body, until he’s face to face with your monster cock. He takes the head of yours in his mouth and you begin doing push-ups, slowly dipping your cock into his mouth, then rising back up. The camera loves your muscular back. You sit back onto his torso, putting his arms under your knees in a wrestling school-boy pin. The tip of your erect cock rests on his chin -- he only has to slightly lift his head to get it in his mouth, which he does. “You want it, pretty boy?” you ask, tapping the head of your cock on his lush pink lips. “You want Daddy’s big load?” “Yes,” he answers, trying to lick your cock with the tip of his tongue. “Please, gimme it! Please!” It takes little more than a few tugs and you can feel your big balls churn. “Here you go, Eddie,” you say as you release your cock and flex a double-bis just as you begin your orgasm. Your first shot crosses his entire face, but he gets his mouth open for the second one. But you don’t stop -- it’s been too long. You just keep shooting and shooting, volleys that just coat the redhead’s pretty face. You’re panting as your finish, releasing him from your hold. As he sits up, the two of you kiss, your cum running down his face -- you snowball it back and forth, as you wipe the rest of him clean with your hand. The two of you are laughing about the amount. DIRECTOR’S VOICE: A-a-a-a-and CUT! The moment he says “CUT”, you feel dizzy… something deep… ******************************************************************************************************* Eddie and I are standing in each other’s arms, soaked in cum, giggling like schoolgirls. Someone throws us towels and we begin wiping each other down. (It’s a lot of cum!) The Director is still talking to us. It’s clearly a Post Show -- the camera’s still rolling. “That was great you guys!” he says. Eddie laughs, wiping his face. “Dude shoots some big loads!” he says. I shrug. “I do everything big!” I laugh. Eddie is playing for the camera -- he points to your cock and brings his hand to the side of his face in an “astonishment” pose. In the same spirit,I spin him around and show the camera his perky bubble butt, smacking it with my open palm. He laughs. “All right, thank you guys,” the Director says. “Great shoot!” “It was a lot of fun,” Eddie says, playfully kissing me. “It was,” I agree, kissing him back and glancing at the camera. “That was just… easy. I could do it all fuckin’ day!” He chuckles. “Don’t say that too loud or they’ll make you!” He slides into his jeans. “I guess you’re coming out of quarantine, right?” “Yeah!” I say. “Finally…” “Well, then maybe I’ll see you at the gym and stuff?” I smile, sliding my jeans up over my ample quads. “I hope so!” I say enthusiastically. He strolls up to me seductively. “I’m sure of it,” he says. “I’m gonna put in to do a full-scene with you.” “What?” I ask. “Are you kidding? That would be fuckin’ AWESOME!” He indicates my bountiful cock as I tuck it into my jeans (I didn’t put the posers back on). “Big Daddy, I want to get fucked by that log -- it’s fuckin’ hot as fuck.” “Anytime.” He smirks. “How about a shower scene right now on my OnlyFans page?” “Let’s go!” ************************************************************************************************ Outside the bubble, the virus continues to run unchecked, gyms are still closed, lockdowns still enforced, Americans still feeling like masks infringe their freedom -- it’s just unbelievable. Naturally, desperate to stave off boredom, people are seeking content, entertainment, anything to fill the time. And nothing fills time better than porn. Most of the major entertainment companies set up their own production bubbles, but Paragon was far-and-away better prepared than their major competitors, creating what the industry has been calling Paragon’s “Porn World” where all the biggest names live and film as if it were still the Before Time. My first six weeks are up today and I’m hoping my contract will get renewed. I’ve been filming almost daily, mixing and matching with the other studs in the bubble -- it’s honestly been some of the best times of my life, professionally. Well, socially, too -- I’ve made some good friends and fuck-buddies. I open my laptop to see Coach’s Tab blinking. I open it and link up with the program. “Good morning, Dom!” “Morning, Coach! What’s the word?” “Your number’s are great!” he said. “They’re offering you a contract extension. Would you like to pull another twelve weeks?” I don’t even have to think about it. “Hell. Yes.” I love this job so much -- seriously, they can use me until I’m dried up and dead. I don’t care. “Great!” he says. “I’ll forward the contract to your email and we can get it done. There’s a couple of perks we can talk about, but it’s an improvement over what you were getting. Of course, they’d like you to start performing private services for clients…” “Private services?” I ask, suspiciously. “I don’t know, Coach. It’s one thing to be a porn star, it’s another to be a whore.” He laughs indulgently. “It’s not being a whore,” he says. “Here, let me show you a video…”

“Professor Hutchens, something's wrong. I don’t think it's supposed to be bubbling like this,” says my assistant Josh, a heightened concern in his voice. "Ignore it and just follow the directions. I've been working on this particular formula for months and checked the calculations this morning. Don't forget, I've been doing this for over a decade," I say in a huff. I am too busy grading my students' papers to walk over to the other side of the lab and check on his work. I had been up all night perfecting this latest batch, and had done my due diligence in double-checking the formula this morning. So what if I got zero sleep last night. I had to make my deadline. Associate professor positions pay shit money and I have to pay the rent somehow. So here I am covertly using university time and lab equipment to perfect a serum for a private biomedical company who has contracted me for a secret project. It's a project I can't truly talk about — you wouldn't believe the number of NDAs I had to sign to get the contract — but at its essence, it's a formula that will boost human potential by unlocking the confines of human strength and capability. "Alright, professor. Whatever you say. I'm just saying. It looks funny," Josh replies. Ah, Josh. Ever the simpleton. But that's why I hired him. He can follow orders well enough and better yet, has no idea that what I'm doing is illegal. He just needs the money as bad as I do. He's handsome in a boy next door kind of way — square jaw, a smattering of freckles, and sweeping brown bangs that highlight his soft green eyes. Oh, and a body that's in pretty good shape for a 20-year-old who cares more about partying than pretty much anything else. An inch or two shorter than me at 5'10", I would guess he weighs around 180 lbs. Despite the unshapely lab coat, I can tell that his muscles are developed. Actually I know this for a fact since I creeped on his Instagram late one night and saw that shirtless pic of him at the frat party. He doesn't have washboard abs, but they're peaking under a thin layer of fat and good lord does he have a bubble butt to die for. Round and juicy. Geez, I'm getting distracted. At the end of the day, he gets me what I need: someone who will take orders and ask as few questions as possible. **glass shatters** "Professor, professor!" Josh yells. I look up and a crimson colored plume of smoke is quickly enveloping Josh's work station. I run over to survey the situation, stopping to grab a fire extinguisher in case of an open flame. Josh continues to shout as I arrive at his desk. To my surprise, there is no flame, just a broken beaker. The plume of smoke has dissipated. "Josh, are you alright?" I ask. Internally I'm freaking out. Where did the smoke go? How much of it did he inhale? If something serious happens to him as a result and the university finds out... My racing thoughts are cut off by a groan from Josh. "I don't feel so good," he exclaims. With another groan he reaches out and grabs the lab counter, slightly bent over. He looks queasy. "Maybe take a seat over..." I start to say before I am interrupted by an even louder moan. "Ohh... ughhhhh, ohhh..." he groans. And that's when I noticed that Josh was sweating through his clothes. This isn't good. "Fuck, it's hot. My skin is burning." Josh exclaims, clutching his stomach. "Water, I need water." I run over to the sink and fill a sterile beaker with water from the tap, but notice that Josh's breathing has slowed and that the moans have ceased. "Hey Josh, how are you feeling?" I say with concern in my voice. "Okay now. My skin is still a little warm but it's not so hot anymore. Just a little tingly." he says. "Okay, well let's drink this glass of water and maybe get you out of that soaked lab coat." I reply. "I'm feeling really tingly now, Professor Hutchens," he says, straightening up. I start to help him get out of his lab coat and that's when I notice that we're eye-to-eye. "How tall are you, Josh?" I ask. "Five foot ten, why do you ask?" he replies as he wipes the sweat from his brow. "No reason." I reply. If I'm just over six foot, there's no way... "Fuck," he exclaims. "I need to get out of this lab coat, it's feeling really tight." **rip** The back of Josh's jacket suddenly rips along his lats. I can see his sun-kissed skin poking through the stark white of the coat. "We need to get my pants off too, fuck they're tight." **rip** Josh blows out the back of his pants. Holy shit, I think. His ass is impossibly round and firm. What I would give to... Josh cuts me off. "Ugh. What the hell is happening to me, professor? Why are my clothes so goddamn tight?" Josh asks, anger rising in his voice. It's then that I notice Josh is clearly looking down on me. He notices it too. "Holy shit, I'm growing," he says in surprise. "Ugh, it must be a reaction with the compound you were working with, I'm sure there's no cause for worry." But I'm worried the fuck out. This was an untested batch of the formula. "I'm definitely getting bigger," he says surveying his growing body. Just then, Josh's shoes make a popping noise and start to rip at the toe. First his right foot, thick toes peek through as they lengthen. Then his left. Previously a sensible size 11, he was now clearly pushing size 15, maybe 16. Bigger and more powerful, each toe grows menacingly large. Josh takes a look at his hands, and they slowly lengthen and thicken before his eyes. It's then he notices that his lab coat is now straining helplessly across his broad chest. With one fell swoop, he grabs it and rips it to shreds. He groans. Tossing aside the sweaty, ripped remains, Josh's upper body is now on full display. Thick, dark, quarter sized nipples increasingly point downward as his pecs heave forward. Rounder and firmer they grow, hovering over his abs. Whereas only a faint outline could be seen before, the top two rows of abs jut out as fat melts away. Sex lines begin to appear above the waist of his now impossibly tight jeans. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm going to be in so much trouble. But then again, the formula clearly works. Better than I imagined it to. Also I'm hard as hell. Josh was quickly pushing 6'4" and there was no sign of the growth stopping. "FUCK, this is amazing. I'm going to be huge!!" Josh yells, his voice now deeper and filled with cocky confidence. He rubs his thick, meaty hands across his broad chest. Tweaking his nipples, a guttural moan escapes his lips. Grabbing the top of his jeans, he rips them open, buttons flying. Holy shit, he's strong. Pre-cum soaks through my pants. I take in Josh's bottom half and notice that round veiny calves anchor his now inhumanely thick legs. Meaty thighs quiver and thicken as Josh's white, sweat-soaked briefs strain against growing frame. It leaves nothing to the imagination — Josh is packing. Half-hard, his cock already appears to be ten inches and thick. I can't imagine how huge it is at full mast. Actually, I can and the stain of pre-cum on my pants grows larger. He grasps his dick through his underwear. Goddamn, that's so hot. Josh turns around to take a look at himself in the mirror and I get a glimpse of his back. Wider and wider his lats spread, as pound upon pound of muscle is added to his frame. His traps, growing thicker by the minute, give him an imposing air. Triceps flaring, I'm starting to get scared. Josh is quickly turning into a god among men, and a cocky one at that. "How fucking big am I going to get, doc?" he barks at me, cupping his growing pecs as he admires his own reflection. "I want to know. How fucking big?!" "I... I don't know. This formula has never been tested before. This is... more than I could have ever imagined." I stammer. "I hope it doesn't stop. I want to grow huge," he grunts as he gains another inch in height. He turns back around. Josh's underwear is hopelessly clinging on for dear life. Escaping the confines of the strained cotton briefs and snaking halfway down his thigh, a giant cockhead the size of a small apple stares at me. Fabric taut, his briefs are looking more and more like a thong by the minute, riding up an impossibly round and juicy bubble butt. **snap** Josh's underwear gives way under the pressure of his growing muscle ass. At this point, he's rock hard and stroking his cock with his meaty hands. I'm mesmerized. Never in my wildest dreams could I picture something so insanely thick and long, coursing with raw masculinity. Two large balls the size of lemons, quiver with young stud cum. The naked jock stares down at me, a hunger in his eyes I've never seen before. He had to be 6'8" by now. "Suck my cock," the giant demands. "What... do you... mea..." I studder. "I said suck my cock. I can see that my body is turning you on. And I'm horny as hell. Suck my fucking cock." he growls. I don't know what to do. On one hand, I've never been hornier in my life. On the other, Josh's cockhead alone is big enough to fill my mouth to capacity. I don't think it's even possible to take the whole... Josh grabs my head and shoves me to his crotch. Sweaty, I'm enveloped by his manly musk. "I said, fucking suck it!" he commands. I lick the head. His pre, salty and thick, is unlike anything I've ever tasted before. I open my mouth wide as Josh's places his baseball mitt sized hand on the back of my head and shoves me onto his growing member. I can only get my mouth around four or five inches of the shaft, it's much thicker than a soda can. "Yeah, you little bitch." Josh moans. "You turned me into a god, and now you'll worship me like one." I can't believe this is happening but I'm lost in the moment. He's right: my formula has turned him into a studly beast. Even though I can tell the growth is slowly, he must be pushing 7' tall at this point. And god, the muscles. They're unreal. Josh's cock surges in my mouth. Not done growing, I guess. I work his tool as best as I can. Tears stream down my cheek as I strain to take it in. I grab his round muscle butt for leverage and realize I can't hold on any longer. I blow my load in my pants. Josh's groans from the growth slow, and are replaced with increased moans as I service his cock. I lick and suck and spit, working the 16" rod with all my strength. "Ugh, I'm gonna shoot!" Josh roars unexpectedly. **pump** **pump** **pump** Rope after rope of thick, virile stud cum shoots down my throat. **pump** **pump** **pump** His dick quivers with each pump. Holy shit, this is a lot of cum. **pump** **pump** **pump** Josh continues to moan like an animal in heat. I struggle to take it all in and cum starts escaping from the corners of my mouth and drips onto my clothes. I shoot another load in my pants. **pump** **pump** The seemingly endless stream of cum slows. Josh's breathing, while labored, calms down a bit. Two more pumps and he's done. My mouth full, I swallow the last of his load. I've never sucked down so much cum in my life. "FUCK," he exclaims, pulling out his cock and leaning his huge frame on one of the tables. The growth has stopped. "I'm starving," he says as he grabs his torn lab coat and ties it around his waist, a futile attempt at modesty given his hulking frame. "I'm going to find some food." And with that, he walks away from me and heads to the lab's exit, ducking through the doorway. I'm at a loss for words, unable to make sense of what just happened. A dull, but noticeable tingle spreads across my body and I notice I'm soaking through my own lab coat. I'm covered in Josh's cum, yes, but also soaking with sweat. I should probably get out of these clothes, I'm feeling restricted because they feel... tight against my frame. God, it's hot in here. My skin's on fire. *RRIIPPP*