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  1. The Passion Of Flames by big-Zargo Authors note: This story was inspired by an old story I made for a contest, to be more accurate my first story I need for a contest. I decided I could re-look at the story again because I felt that I could do more with it. And as I mulled it over, I felt that I could expand it and its ideas. Embers of a burning rainbow Patrick was hiking in the woods making his way across a trampled dirt path. He thought to himself, just three more hours and he will soon be off the trail and back into civilization. He rubbed his hand over his sweating pale white face moving some of his shaggy brown hair off of his glasses. His nose twitched as the smell of burning wood filled his nostrils. Nostalgic memories of the campfire passed through his head as he stood there basking in the flavorful aroma. His thoughts were interrupted as the world began to rumble from around him. Losing his footing Patrick fell onto the ground as it began to move before his very eyes, rather than a mouth opening it was as if the earth was becoming erect and was growing towards the sky. A small hill was being born right in front of Patrick’s eyes. In another dimension outside the barriers of multiple realities laid a massive red Titan of cosmic fire and passion, glowing so brighter and larger than a star. With giant rippling muscles bigger than the biggest continents on Earth, a forest of grayish body hair that a man could live on, balls the size of huge planets squished together, a ridiculously huge cock that can reach the Titans head. He along with wild grayish hair and a beard that reached his massive hairy pecs attached to a chest. A square-ish head with a strong jaw and prominent forehead and eyebrow ridges. This entity was So massive with muscles that the giant could not even move its limbs. Massive pillars of Flames had surrounded and wrapped around the Titan’s ridiculously big dick, stroking, and squeezing it in a form of masturbation. For unknown eons, this cosmic giant had rubbed at its huge fuck stick, with a blank look of pleasure on his face as time passed by; For its prison hold him well. But sadly, nothing lasts forever, and eventually, the cosmic giant came, and like a geyser erupting his hot cream cum had shot across the boundaries of reality and laid the beginning of the end for a lucky/unlucky world. When Patrick got up, he had found himself next to a new miniature hill, that appeared across his path. He had felt a strange compulsion to explore it. He quickly climbed up on top of the new hill to find a miniature crater reminding him of the pictures they found of books and the Internet. To Patrick, it looked more like a freshly dead miniature volcano, with its rough and smooth black glass all over it. He suddenly felt horny as the smell of a campfire had passed through his nose. The compulsion to enter the crater had been un-resistible to Patrick. He grabbed his crotch and began rubbing it in pleasure as he made his way deeper into the hole. A moan escaped his lips as thoughts of masturbating over right in any sense of fear or curiosity. He had taken off on his backpack and sat down opening up his pants and, grabbed his fuck meat, and began rubbing it, moaning and drooling all over his stubble-covered chin. All he wanted to do is fuck all needs to do is fuck. All that mattered to him like the embers of passion began burning inside his soul. He closed his eyes as he basked in his pleasure, a vision of a giant red man whose muscles block the sky, whose dick could crush the earth with its girth, whose breath could ignite the passion of men. The flames could destroy the world and remake in the giant’s image. Patrick roared as his cum shot out of him. This act echoed the cosmic Titan across space and time, creating a link between them; allowing the Titans power to bleed through the dimensional barriers and both blessed and cursed the man. Patrick’s eyes opened up as fire passed through his veins. His body began to feel warm as fiery passion had made its way through his expanding muscles; Causing the hiking clothing meant for an average man to quickly become tight and uncomfortable as Patrick’s body filled it in and then exceeded its limits; at that point, it began to tear and rip apart revealing his skin which was slowly being peppered with his brown body hair. Huge hairy pecs busted through his shirt company with a muscle gut. His thick thighs had destroyed his blue jeans. His shoes had burst off against his big feet as sleeves from his jacket had completely fallen apart on being able to contain his huge biceps. Huge meaty arms quickly removed any last shreds of clothing on his changing body. Patrick’s average size cock had grown into a huge fat fuck monster, with a need for immediate attention. His balls had grown into the size of apples filled with primal testosterone. The stubble on his face quickly grown into a beard as his forehead had become blunter and his jaw become squarer. His eyes had become a rainbowish gray as his psyche began to shift more in line with the cosmic Titan’s. Patrick’s meaty ass sat there on the ground and began masturbating again. The cosmic Titan felt a soul through the ether whose passion now burned like his. Slowly at first but Patrick’s memories passed through into the giant mind causing his attention to slowly focus on the earth. Patrick roared as he came, shooting his load out again onto the ground where a small puddle of steaming semen was growing. Patrick had come so many times after his transformation that he cannot count; Hours had passed, and it was dark. Patrick was no longer completely blinded by his lust and got up with his 8 feet tall muscle bear body. His breath stood out against the cold night air as his bearish body felt warm against the night air. Patrick was no longer hindered by the darkness and giving his hard cock one last squeeze Patrick began setting out towards civilization bringing the passion of flames with him.
  2. 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
  3. fleetking

    muscle breast Ultimate Fuck

    Not mine but id be happy to chat about it, if you are the author please let me know so I can credit you The Ultimate Fuck by [email protected] It was a hot, steamy afternoon. Two of my pals, Shane and Glen, wanted to head over to the beach. I agreed, and we were off. The beach was a secluded one, with lots of rocks where the mountains met the sea. It was a common spot for the gay crowd to strut their stuff. Shane was clad in a ripped pair of jeans; Glen had taken off his shorts, revealing his pocket thong. I was a bit more conservative, unveiling a black string bikini. I was getting hot at the sights of my friends. I suggested that we climb to the top of one of the rocks, and enjoy a massive, unending orgy up there. Shane and Glen agreed, and equally welcomed the challenge. Once atop the rocks with a reddish sunset upon us, Shane, Glen and I commanded the heavens to unleash the ultimate gay power upon us as we all came together. The reddish hue of the skies suddenly blackened as a powerful storm appeared. We dismounted from the apex of the rocks, and headed for shelter. We ran for a nearby church as thunder approached. The massive storm hurled huge bolts of lighting down, hitting the steeple of the church repeatedly. Eventually, the cross caught fire and fell to the roof below. The old, wooden roof of the church began to burn and within minutes much of the roof was ablaze. Seeking shelter, Shane, Glen, and I approached the entry of the church and took a brief look inside to see what was happening. We saw the burning rafters collapsing down upon the altar, setting the interior on fire. Immediately behind the altar on the back wall was a life-size replica of jesus, crucified to a wooden cross. Under the intense heat, the flames began to lick at the base of the cruciform, setting it on fire too. We watched intensely as the replica of jesus became engulfed in the inferno. Just as we were all about to turn around and go, an fiery upheaval erupted from the floor of behind the altar . A massive column of fire burst up from the basement. The heat was so intense that deep within the orangish, red hues of the flames we thought we saw black fire. The blackened fire rose higher, and higher and took the form of what appeared to be three snake-like creatures thrusting upward from below. Eventually, the python-sized serpents began coiling around the blackened cruciform of jesus on the back wall. "Holy shit", Shane exclaimed, "something weird is going on here." Alas, within the coil of the snake-like creatures, the charred jesus began to transform. Shane, Glen, and I watched in amazement.... Huge reddish muscles began to form: giant pecs exploded from the upper torso, ripped abs grew below. Massive legs arms and legs, bigger than some tree trunks, began to grow and were equally muscle bound. The face was well chiseled, with a strong jaw and cheekbone. The hair was unkept, blowing in the fiery updraft, as pair of phallic horns emerged. A pair of wings began to emerge from behind the broad back and shoulders, and grew to nearly the full width of the altar area. The wooden cruciform, under the intense heat, began to give way. The being began to awaken, revealing intensely red, piercing eyes. "Dear God!" Shane exclaimed, "The Beast has been ressurected." The Beast, now unleashed from the restraints of the cross, flew out of the flames toward us. He landed in the central area of the church, several yards before us. He must have stood 10 feet tall; His wings nearly spanned the full width of the church. He began to flex His muscles as He became aware of His newfound being. The three serpents continued to coil around His incredible muscular build. One by one, He uncoiled the snake-like creatures and lowered them down between His legs where they hung flaccid, reaching down to the floor and beyond. We watched in awe... He arched His back and thrust His legs and hips forward. Three massive bolts of lightning thundered down from the heavens, striking each serpent, endowing it as a penis upon the Beast. His penises began erecting, one rising upward toward the ceiling, must have been nearly 20 feet long! His other two cocks grew long and thick below the pews. As these two penises began to rise, His erection was so powerful that it ripped out several rows of pews. Flaming precum began spewing from His thrashing penises. The fire department finally arrived at the church. A pair of firemen charged in the front door, carrying fire hoses, followed by the pastor with a garden hose. Aware of the immense being before them, the firemen aimed their hoses upon the reddish Beast. The intense water pressure aroused the Beast so much that His fiery precum ignited His penises into flamethrowers. The fiery ejaculation was so hot that it overpowered the hoses, turning all of the water into steam. Within the Hellish inferno, the Beast coiled His penises around the firemen and pastor. Shane, Glen and I each maintained a hard-on through the event. Our dicks were quivering with the unknown of what was to come. A deep voice echoed from the Beast, commanding us to kneel. "Thou shalt feel the ultimate gay power to have ever existed - SATAN!" "In return, I will command your souls for eternity." Shane, Glen, and I dropped to our knees in awe. We assumed a prayer position, and felt Satan's temptation. We looked at each other and agreed. "Fuck us, almighty Satan," Shane exclaimed. "Give us the ultimate gay experience and our souls are yours," Glen pleaded. "Endow us," I prayed, "as is thoust!" We watched in anticipation... Satan's three penises grew toward us, wrapping around each of us, encoiling us. I felt one wrap around my ankle, turning around my thigh, until it rose up between my legs. The head was still hot - a small series of sparks rose from within it, charring my shorts. The heat felt good against my penis, making it grow even harder. Within minutes, my dick had broken free from the burnt fabric! His penis continued it growth around my torso, up over my shoulder and around my neck. Shane and Glen were equally engulfed in Satan's other two penises. Satan began flexing His wings upward, ripping the roof wide open. He began to fly, lifting Shane, Glen and myself airborne as well. The feeling as I dangled below Satan flying, encoiled within His massive serpent penis, was incredible. We paused briefly over two spots below, where some sort of fiery accident had occurred. I watched in awe as Satan extended His penis, the one that was wrapped around me, down into the flames. As it emerged ablaze, Satan howled in ecstacy, with His newfound possession. My cock pulsated in wonder over what I had just witnessed. Soon, we came up upon a huge mountain, rising from the land below. As Satan approached the top, I could tell that this was no mountain, it was a damn volcano. Satan continued up and flew us into the open top of the volcano. We landed on the soft, barren surface of the dormant volcano. Satan released us from the restraints of His dicks, with no possibility of escape. Standing before us, He commanded: "Prepare to receive my fury as I endow thee!" Shane, Glen, and I stood before the God of Hell. An enormous phallic tail rose from Satan's ass, and proceeded to grip Shane within its coil. Satan lifted Shane with ease, and drew him closer and closer to His ass. Glen and I watched in wonderment as Satan pulled Shane's body toward His ass, head first. At the same time, Satan unleashed two of His cocks upon Glen. Each one wrapped around every one of Glen's appendages. Satan enlarged one of the two penises so large, that its head came down, and clamped itself over Glen's erect dick. The second penis grew into Glen's ass. I watched as its never-ending growth continued into Glen. Satan's third penis wrapped itself around me, as during the flight, and drew me up off the ground. His hand reached out, and wrapped itself around my erect cock. Within minutes, Shane, Glen, and I were in ecstacy. The ultimate power of the best gay lover was upon us, simultaneously no less. But, the price for this needed to be paid. Satan's tail pulled Shane's face fully into His ass, completely engulfing it, as He ripped the soul from Shane. I feet Satan's penis throb at the moment when Shane was transformed. Glen was next... Satan drew out Glen's soul from both ends: the cock clamped down over Glen's penis and the cock growing ever-longer in Glen's ass unleashed a massive, fiery ejaculation, fucking out Glen's soul. The penis that was wrapped around me grew intensely longer, thicker, and hotter as Satan enjoyed Glen's newfound being. Alas, my turn came: Satan's penis drew me up before the mighty Beast. His penis grew so hot that I could not resist its flaming fury. I could feel His incredible power, weakening me, with each throb of His dick. As I came, I felt the blazing glory of His red eyes cast their vision upon me, searing my soul into His eternal possession. The Ultimate Fuck! As Shane, Glen, and I rose from our demonic transformations, we had grown into massively muscular built beings. So incredibly hot and sexy, that no man would be able to resist our temptations. Our cocks could grow to whatever size we desired. In fact, we too could enjoy the same pleasure as Satan, and fuck the souls of those willing to give. Satan unleashed us from His serpent penises. He was not done yet. He erected all three penises, and drove them down into the belly of the volcano below us. Each of us followed with our newly bestowed endowments, driving them down, deeper and deeper. We felt the orgy as Satan's cocks, intertwined with ours in a molten pot of lava below us. What a fucking feeling! The volcano was weakening under the intense pressure of our flaming cocks. A massive eruption ensued, spewing our blazing semen upward, setting the heavens ablaze, and molten lava flowing down the sides, consuming everything in its path Satan returned back into the flaming Hell that created Him, leaving us to enjoy our demonic powers over mankind.
  4. Era de mañana en el diario "El Clarín", en una de sus oficinas se encontraba Peter Parker, un chico castaño de 27 años de edad, medía 1.85 y pesaba 90 kgs. de músculo, estéticamente bien distribuido, traía puesta esa mañana una camisa blanca que se ajustaba bien a su anatomía atlética, pero sin ser demasiado llamativo, la camisa se ajustaba bien en su pecho y bíceps, también llevaba un pantalón negro de vestir y un calzado del mismo color, bien lustrado, el cuello de su camisa desabotonado solo para permitirle respirar bien y no sofocarse, pues el viaje matutino usando sus poderes para llegar al diario había sido bastante veloz, tomó las mangas de la camisa y las arremangó para dejar descubiertos sus antebrazos mientras tomaba un folder con fotos de Spiderman, se sonrió entre sí. Estos meses habían sido importantes para él, encontró un traje alien que lo había mejorado por completo, le dió más velocidad, agilidad, fuerza, músculos, y sobre todo un crecimiento en su virilidad que él en un principio no podía creer, aún recordaba cuando solo medía 1.75 y pesaba solo 70kgs., era sorprendente lo que unos meses con el traje le habían hecho, de tener un pedazo de solo 16 cms. de virilidad en erección pasó a tener un monstruo de 25 cms. No dejaba de ver sus fotos, apaleando maleantes la noche anterior, era magnífico, pensaba en el puesto que estaba compitiendo en ese momento como fotógrafo de planta, el otro hombre definitivamente no tenía oportunidad, dió un sorbo a su café mientras seguía sentado y vió la puerta de entrada de la oficina. Llegó alguien, justamente el hombre que no tenía oportunidades contra Parker, era nada más y nada menos que su compañero de oficina, Eddie Brock. Eddie era ya un hombre de 37 años de edad, a pesar de ser mayor en edad que Peter, se veía más joven, era rubio, de cabello corto, facciones joviales, ojos azules y totalmente lampiño, la vida no le había favorecido, nunca tuvo oportunidad de ejercitarse, ni hacer dietas u otro tipo de cosas debido a su físico, medía tan solo 1,65 cms de alto y pesaba tan solo 60kgs., definitivamente no imponía de ninguna forma, todo mundo le pasaba por encima y últimamente alguien en especial. El pobre Eddie llegó agitado y sudando a la oficina, con su maletín color café a un lado. Eddie estaba vestido con una camisa de color azul cielo que resaltaba aquellos ojos suyos, un pantalón café y calzado del mismo color, todo se hubiera visto bien de no ser por que todo le quedaba grande, a excepción del calzado, la camisa le colgaba de los laterales, y ni que decir de los hombros y las mangas, daba la impresión de que un niño se había vestido con la ropa de su padre, debido a ello nunca tuvo oportunidad de ligar con alguien en su vida. Mientras aún respiraba de manera agitada veía a Parker bastante fresco y seguro de su persona. Eddie se cuestionaba cómo era posible que Parker estaba así si vivía más lejos que él del trabajo, a pesar de tener cierto recelo al castaño, lo saludó ... - Hola, buenos días Parker - Se oyó su voz algo aguda, parecía la voz de un joven de 15 años. - ¿Cómo le haces para llegar antes que yo, si yo vivo más cerca? Peter lo miró de reojo y sonriendo mientras tomaba su café, le dijo: - Por que me levanto más temprano que tú, "amiguito". Eddie miró a Parker, notó que el castaño había mejorado mucho su físico en los últimos meses, sabía que eso no era normal en una persona, además Eddie siempre peleaba por entrar en el bus de la primera hora, mínimo debería que ver a Parker en el transporte o llegar al mismo tiempo si es que Peter tomaba el bus de otra ruta. Eddie terminó por mejor dejar de pensar en ello y se metió al baño para refrescarse un poco, aún así no podía dejar de sentirse frustrado, al salir vio al Sr. Jameson hablando con Peter y solo dijo él: - Hola Sr ... Jameson y Parker vieron al rubio de reojo y siguieron en su plática ... si, literalmente lo habían ignorado. Parker le mostró al jefe sus fotos de Spiderman, Jameson quedó satisfecho como siempre con aquellas fotografías, las tomó y se fue sin decir nada, Peter vio al rubio de nuevo ... -Vaya, de nuevo se te fue el avión del éxito " amiguito ". - El castaño volvió a tomar su café y a darle un sorbo mientras se recargaba en el rubio y lo veía como poca cosa - No te preocupes Eddie, siempre debe haber un segundón para que el primer lugar brille más y descuida, cuando me den el puesto , serás mi "asistonto", te lo aseguro. El rubio apretó su puño y saco su hombro del contacto de Parker para después tomar su maletín y probar suerte en la ciudad por unas fotografías. Peter solo lo vió: -Bye "pequeñín". Oye cuando vuelvas de pasear tráeme un café ... - El castaño sonrió mientras veía salir al rubio -Pobre Eddie, casi me da pena el pobre, pero bueno, no puede competir con un súper hombre como yo ... Parker se quedó de ocioso en la oficina mientras esperaba que fuera más tarde para la hora de la comida, total, al final sabía que en la noche tomaría sus fotos, mientras tanto cuando Eddie salía ... - Maldito parker, su actitud ha cambiado , es un pedante ahora- murmuraba el rubio mientras iba a su lugar secreto dentro del diario, era un cubículo abandonado y muy reducido, solo tenía espacio para una silla y unas cuantas cosas, Eddie entró y activó su radio clandestino de la policía mientras seguía pensando en Parker - solo por que ha cambiado su físico y tiene suerte con las fotos me trata así. Ya se había hecho tarde y Parker tenía hambre ya: - ¡Maldición Brock !, ¡¿Dónde te metiste?!, Sabes que quiero mi comida a cierta hora, maldito enano. - Peter salió de la oficina bastante enojado y se dirigió a la calle para comprar algo y así calmar su apetito, ya pudiendo comprar algo se tranquilizó un poco, pero seguía molesto debido a que aún consumiendo lo que había comprado, su hambre no desaparecía. - Comí demasiado y aún tengo hambre, no lo entiendo, ¡¿Por qué me está pasando esto ?! - El castaño empezaba a enfadarse más, pero en ese momento comenzó a activarse su sentido arácnido. - Sí, lo que me faltaba- se fue a un callejón oscuro y metió su ropa de civil en una bolsa de telaraña -Vamos a perseguir a los chicos malos y a tomar fotos. Mientras tanto Brock salía a toda prisa, escuchó sobre un asalto a un banco cercano y salió disparado del diario, directo a la acción. Al salir vió al mismo tiempo a Spiderman ir hacia la escena del crimen, no era lejos, Brock corrió lo más deprisa que podía, pero llegó demasiado tarde, al estar ya en el lugar solo vio cómo Spiderman salía de escena y varios criminales envueltos en telaraña, pegados a los postes de luz, el rubio se sintió fatal, otra escena de acción se le había escapado. - Maldición, así no lograré nada. Tomó fotos de lo que podía y regresó al diario lo más pronto que pudo, tenía en mente lograr ofrecer sus fotos antes de que Parker apareciera, aunque era muy raro, Peter nunca estaba en la escena y aún así conseguía fotos. Al llegar a la oficina se sorprendió, Parker ya estaba ahí, entregándole varias fotos a Jameson. Brock veía como su oportunidad se desvanecía mientras el jefe entraba a su oficina con Peter detrás de él, el pequeño rubio solo se sentó en su escritorio bastante agitado de tanto correr y entonces ... -¡¡¡Brock !!! Parker gritó como si fuera el jefe al entrar en su oficina compartida, mientras que el rubio solo lo veía con enfado y Parker cerraba de un portazo el lugar y Eddie lo cuestionó. -No sé cómo le haces ... Tú estabas aquí en la oficina y vuelves con fotos y no estás cansado ... - Peter se acercaba poco a poco a Brock que aún seguía agitado, pero confrontándolo, el rubio no sabía si eso era una buena idea o no, pero ya lo estaba haciendo. -¡¿Qué quieres Parker ?! -¡¿Qué quiero?! - Parker sonrió con algo de burla, y así tomó del cuello de la camisa con ambas manos a Brock, levantándolo del suelo, mientras el rubio veía como los pectorales, bíceps y antebrazos del castaño se tensaban en la camisa. - Esas no son maneras de contestarle a tu futuro jefe .- Parker acercó su cara a la del rubio - ¡¿Porqué olvidaste mi comida, maldito enano ?! -¿Cu ... cuál comida ?, No me pe ... pe ... pediste na..nada, solo un café... si regresaba, pero ... - ¡Cállate !, Deja de balbucear como estúpido , sabes que si te pido algo tienes que traer eso y más, en todo caso no me trajiste ¡Nada !, Eso no es de buenos amigos. ¿Oh si? Pequeño charal sudoroso. Las venas del antebrazo de Parker estaban dilatadas debido al tiempo de mantener suspendido al rubio. - Tú ... Tú no eras así .... ¿Que te pasó? - Dijo el rubio algo asustado y triste mientras el semblante de Parker cambiaba de ser agresivo a estar algo fuera de sí, soltando a Brock y dejándolo caer al suelo. - Yo ... Yo ..., Vete por comida y no tardes - El castaño le lanzó billetes en la cara a Brock - Hazlo ya ... Después de eso el rubio se arrastró por el suelo, tomó el dinero y salió disparado de la oficina, pero aún le temblaban algo las piernas. - Maldito Parker. ¿Qué se creé el idiota? No, mejor no lo hago enojar más, no se qué más me podría hacer - El rubio vuelve con una ensalada y pechuga de pollo asada, no había tardado nada en verdad. - Ahí tienes Parker, que te aproveche.- Eddie no pudo evitar decirlo con un tono algo desafiante. - Ya era hora - Mientras tanto Peter no prestó atención al tono de Brock, estaba tan hambriento que solo le importaba la comida, el rubio de lejos veía cómo Peter comía, parecía ansioso y desesperado, como un animal salvaje, incluso soltaba unos cuantos gruñidos , así que prefirió salir e ir al baño, mientras tanto solo pensaba en la conducta de Parker durante los últimos meses, se dirigió al baño del piso, abrió la puerta y se dirigió a uno de los mingitorios. Desenfundó su pedazo de carne, solo medía 8 cms., Y eso si fuera erecto, en reposo solo eran 5 cms, así es, el rubio era pequeño hasta en eso. Mientras orinaba y sentía pena por si mismo oyó abrirse la puerta del baño, para su desgracia era nada más y nada menos que Peter que lo observaba, el castaño comenzó a olfatear, cómo si oliera algo en el ambiente y mientras hacía eso su pantalón de vestir marcaba la gran erección de Parker, el pedazo caliente de 25 cms. de su entrepierna, estaba al máximo. - Aaaaahhhh- el castaño parecía apreciar algún olor. - Aquí huele ... - Dijo el castaño acercándose a Brock. -¿Qué quieres decir con eso? - Eddie guardó su falo y subió la bragueta de su pantalón, tenía un presentimiento y pensaba mejor salir lo antes posible de aquel lugar. - Seguro es el baño, está mal lavado, saldré y le diré al personal del aseo. Parker se acercó al rubio y lo tomó con bastante fuerza. - ¡Eres tú! ... ¡Tú apestas! - Parker volvió a cargar al rubio como lo había hecho ya hace rato y empezó a frotar su gran erección en la entrepierna de Eddie mientras al mismo tiempo le oprimía su pequeña hombría. -Quieres ser preñado.- El rubio estaba acorralado y se sintió indefenso, no podía ocultar su rostro de preocupación. -Parker, si ... si ... huelo así es por qué corrí mu ... mucho hoy ... Me pondré des ... desodorante para no mo ... molestarte ... - Tú quieres ser preñado- Parker parecía un animal salvaje que no razonaba. - ¡¿Preñarme?!, ¡¿A qué te refieres ?! Parker soltó a Brock pero solo para tomarlo fuertemente por la cintura. -Sabes que necesitas un macho, pequeña perra.- El castaño empezaba a merodear con su mano de forma lasciva el cuerpo del rubio aún por encima de la ropa de éste, la mano de Peter empezaba a deslizarse hacia la pelvis de Eddie, casi por tocar su hombría, pero en ese momento Parker se detuvo . - No ... No ... Esto no está bien ... No ... - Peter soltó al rubio de inmediato y salió rápidamente del baño. Eddie sudaba frío, solo en el baño, pegado a la pared aún, traumatizado, se sintió débil y frágil, sus piernas no dejaban de temblar, era la primera vez que alguien intentaba violarlo, solo pudo encogerse y quedarse en estado fetal en el piso de aquel baño.
  5. shawnkid

    Jocking Up - My Roommate

    Long time lurker - finally got my fingers down to write a story, and hopefully many more to come. Posted in WarpMyMind (leejhaw) and MuscleGrowth.org (shawnkid). -Chapter 1- Meet Charles "Sup," my roommate nonchalantly greeted me as he walked out his room. My eyes almost fell out of its socket. The reason is apparent - my body-conscious roommate is walking around half naked. Beneath his grey sweatpants, his VPL proves that he's freeballing too. That could only mean one thing - it worked. What I did actually work! It's true - some of us are more susceptive to hypnosis. And it comes in many forms, you have the usual suspects: binaural, subliminal, and the trance, which opens up a wide array of possibilities, especially for a closeted gay man like me. It's financially impossible to live in the city nowadays, especially when the rental is through the roof. Since I'm the only occupant in the one-room studio, it's natural to resort to renting out the room to another person to offset the cost to enjoy the convenience of the centrally-located apartment in the city. The first time I met Charles, he wasn't much of a looker. I blame it on his hair, which is in need of serious professional help. He was wearing an oversized t-shirt that did not do justice to a man of his size. He works at the local coffee shop down the road, which explains the coffee scent in his hair whenever he walked past me. I reckoned he's around 25 years old, though I did not actually ask. He promised to clean the entire place once a week, I couldn't be any happier. Truth to be told, I was kind of desperate, and he looked decent enough - at least he has a job - so we shook on a deal. When I stumbled upon the whole new concept of hypnosis, I was thrilled. But, how would I know if it truly worked if I have done so on myself? It wouldn't take anyone much to consider the case of convenience, right under the same roof. I went to the local hardware shop and bought some speakers and downloaded some audio software on my computer. It wasn't easy to get this figure out, but I was really eager to try. When Charles left for work at 7 am, I set my plan in motion. I equipped his room with speakers over the plastic ceiling and wired it across my working desk. So, it would play whatever I needed it to play for an extended period of time, albeit needing to run in and out just to check if the volume is optimal for subliminal tracks to play without causing any distress and potential fallout before the plan see the day of light. I move quickly, knowing that he will come back in the evening after dinner. And the rest will happen throughout the night. My moral conscience would reprimand me if I ruin one's life for my own pleasure. So I decided to start off my experiment with something light. After going through tons of hypnosis books, I attempted to write a hypnosis track that focuses on confidence and preferences. Charles would sleep naked because it's more energy efficient as such - less laundry and less electricity needed to keep cool. He would be more comfortable with his own body, and perhaps begin pay attention to his body more. That should be relatively fine and not qualified as manipulative? I have my doubts, especially on my ever-changing standards. Heh - oh well. I let the track run for a week until one faithful morning - I see my roommate walking out of his room with nothing over his bare torso. I must say, he definitely look better with his shirt off. Why would he hide his toned body over all the baggy shirts - and that would be the next thing to go. And now I know my proof of concept works. I sat back down on my computer and prepared the next script for my dearest roommate, Charles.
  6. It was a very dry windy day in the Afghan deserts as we had just arrived here yet I was already sick of this place, I didn't sign up to fight and kill innocent civilians and some random rebels in the middle of nowhere...I was the top of our class for christ's sake. I had been training for becoming a hulk my entire adult life yet after all of my hard work I get to go to Afghanistan of all places, all ten of us sat there in the huge army plane as we were wrapped around with a simple white cloth and had paraschutes on our backs. Our mission was to destroy a military outpost of the rebel forces yet it didn't feel right doing this...of course some of us had no problem with this, Beta Hulk and Delta Hulk were patriots after all and for them it was an honor to fight for US. There were ten hulks in the Hulk Forces, there was me, The Alpha Hulk, there were others too as well...I was the most powerful hulk yet I was in the same team as more amateur childish hulks too. "Man...I'm tired as hell of these missions" Delta Hulk said as he scratched his short afro-textured hair as the others were chuckling, "Yeah dude...hope we can get few beers back at the base" Beta Hulk said as we sat there before the huge door began to open for us. "U-616 here, we are dropping the Hulks over" the pilot announced as we would get up and slowly walk to the edge of the plane before hearing "Go!" from one of the soldiers. We all jumped from the plane and began dropping down from the sky as we could start seeing the small desert base under us, we would start transforming as each one of us bursted into colorful intense light as the transformation occured, I would burst into intense blue color as I felt how new muscle and flesh began cover me from head to toe. I could feel the bones grow out of nowhere as the muscle reached my waist and soon grew new genitals too, as the body grew more and more huge stretches of flesh would burrow themselves under my eyes. The body would grow bigger and bigger as new organs also began to form inside these bodies as well, the transformation was fast and intense as I felt like being swallowed inside this hulking beast. Before I even realized I could open my eyes and now control this powerful hulk as I felt my flowy blonde hair flow in the wind, I could see my comrades shouting and embracing for impact as we moved our Hulks into a certain formation for the attack. We would arrive soon to the ground as we landed right straight into the rebel base...causing a huge explosion in the process. After that what insued was a lot of fighting and violence as each one of us hulks would begin to rip through the enemy forces, smashing them into pieces and some of us even began eating parts of them...it was quite strange and disheartening to see, we the "good guys" resorting to such horrible tactics. We would fight a lot of men as they desperately tried to shoot us with guns and rocket launchers...I could see fear in their eyes yet even though they were our enemy, it still felt strange seeing them be pummeled into dust. Soon after the combat was over however...we began to search the base for any survivors and what we found made me sick. We did find some children and few women as well...the women looked worried as they tried to comfort their crying children, one of our team members would grab one of the children and "playfully" pretend to eat one of them..."Dude what the fuck?!" I said as I grabbed his arm out of disgust. "What? they are enemies, shitskins or whatever" said Beta Titan, he had a bright red skin and ginger hair...he did really piss me off as he just tossed the child to the ground. We would leave the small building as the children and women would flee as well... "That was unneccessary!" I said disgusted to some of my team members seeing how they had completely disregarded the rules we were given, some of them took bites out of the soldiers and even smashed their corpses to pieces. "Don't be such a tightass! we are just having fun and spreading democracy Haha!" one of the Hulks said as he wiped his bloody mouth, "Damn...I didn't know humans were so tasty" the other Hulk said. Most of them would head to the extraction point which was right next to the small base...I would stay and look at the horrible bloody scene we had left behind, having fought fascists and commies...this was by far the most disturbing shit I had ever seen, in a way I felt inhuman seeing how much destruction I had caused. I walked away from the scene defeated as I would arrive to the extraction points, we began exciting our Hulk forms as I would open my back with my strong arms and grunt in pain before pulling my human body out...I fell to the ground as I opened my eyes and saw my Hulk form fall to the ground, I was naked and wet as I rubbed my Hulk marks under my eyes. The extraction team would arrive soon enough as the plane would land on the hot desert floor before a group of ordinary soldiers began to give us some clothes and load our Hulk forms into a small crate that would be disposed back in the base. I sat down on the bench as I put on my shirt and shoes as I had memorized the routine at this point...Who knows, maybe tomorrow we will destroy a mountain base or a naval base...one thing I did know was that we would never gain back... Our freedom (Hey! This is my first story, please don't be too harsh!) [I'm open for roleplay by the way ]
  7. Chapter 1: "Dusk of One Day, Dawn of Another." After a couple of failed attempts to write something half decent, I’m delighted to finally share with you the opening chapter of “The Devil By My Side”. Originally posted on another site, I decided to share it here. It's not entirely about muscle growth, but it does play a part in several chapters. It was co-written with a wonderful and talented friend of mine who; working together we've attempted to come up with a story we think is exciting, compelling and entertaining, and so, we hope you enjoy reading chapter one as much as we enjoyed writing it. All teenage characters are at the late stages of puberty, use of the word “boy” or “child” as a description is used to signify the advanced age of a demonic entity. Most of the individuals that call upon my kind often do so seeking something. A prize, a reward, a deal. They expect of us, try to make bargains and deals, but this… I could tell from the second he began reading the incantation that this was different. I suppose you could describe it as someone lightly tapping against a windowpane, not that my domain has windows; that’s how it started. But from the instant I felt him calling to me, I could feel that he wasn’t really seeking… anything. A grin crossed my face and I pondered internally: “A summoner without cause, how unusual”. Of course, many have tried to bring forth me and my brethren throughout the years - doubtless you may have read the stories told of people who succeeded, but none have ever done so with such a lack of direction; a lack of desire or need. And it was that that made me curious to answer his call; he’d barely even considered the requirements for a summoning; the rituals and pageantry, but those are the requirements we set for those who place requirements on us. This, was an unconditional invitation to the human world. The words tumbled lazily and mispronounced out of his mouth, but even if he was unable to pronounce my name correctly at the moment, I was certain that given time, it would be carved into his mind. And so, ever the courteous guest, I decided to answer the call. A blinding flash of light poured into my eyes and instinctively I held my hand above my face to shield them; within moments I adjusted to the glow of the late evening sun dappling through the trees. “What the fu… where am I?!” I heard a voice cry, I lowered my gaze to see the Mortal facing away from me. He turned in position trying to find his bearings and as he did, our eyes locked. A look of horror as he took in my visage; from the charred grass circling my feet up my sculpted body and back to my face. His breath quickened. “Are you…?” He quizzed, the words failing to leave his mouth. I remained staring at the youthful male, he seemed as confused as I was. “Why did you call me to this place” I rumbled. “Wait… what?!” He stammered. “I….. I didn’t. I was just reading. Who are you?! And where are my friends? A minute ago, I was in the basem… I didn’t summon you… I don’t even know how to…” The panic rose in his voice as he continued to speak - I took a step forward. And he instinctively took one back. “Please don’t kill me! Please… I’ll just leave…” he cried. I took another step. He jolted backwards, his back pressing against one of the towering trees surrounding us. “I won’t tell anyone.. you certainly don’t need to hurt me.” I stepped forward once more, narrowing the gap between the two of us. “Please!” He wailed, his eyes becoming glassy. “Whatever you want… I…” “Silence, child!” I roar. “Are you always so quick to cower?… it sickens me.” I sneer I take the final step towards him, leaving only inches between us. He flinches, pushing himself as far away from me as he can. Fear flushes through him; and I relish in being so fearful. I snap my fingers and behind me, the ground rumbles and groans. Grass and soil shifting upwards and hardening into a coal-black seat. Sitting down I maintain eye contact. “Seems to me, young one, we’re in an unprecedented situation.” I murmer. "Please Sir… err… Mr. Demon, Sir… don’t kill me. I don’t want to die. I’ll do anything you ask of me. Just please, spare my life!” He nervously pants. I stare at him continually, then I begin to chuckle. “You are in no position to make any demands of m…” The words catch in my mouth, it’s typical to lie when entering into a contract with a summoner. But this time, there’s no need. “Yes…” I allow myself a moment to consider the situation; my mind gleefully races. He looks at me, fear his your eyes but a look of confusion. “If there is no contract… then I am unbound.” I muse to myself. Thoughts continue to rush through my mind. Suddenly I snap my attention back to the youthful Mortal and laugh a hearty, deep sinister laugh. “You made no demands. No requests. No bargains or deals.” I summarise. “As such, I owe you nothing. And so, you are of no use to me.” My eyes flare with an infernal crimson light. I fix my focus into his eyes… my intent is to destroy him, to engulf his brain with flames inside his skull. Destroying the one witness of my arrival and only creature in this realm who might know of a way to banish me. But, the second I try I feel a shooting pain across my skull and cease immediately. ‘Wh… what just happened?!” The mortal asks, stunned. I grasp my brow and rub the surface “The pain…” I groan. Inside the mortal’s head, a thought compels him to start running. “Go you moron! Don’t just stand there! Run! Run for your life!” But as his inner voice screams at him, he finds himself moving forward. “Why am I moving forward?” He questions his actions. “Why am I not running away?” But his curiosity has taken over and he continues inching closer and closer towards me. As he nears me, I once again feel the urge to harm him, before he harms me. I sharply extend my arm and wrap my hand firmly around his neck. A smile of triumph painted onto my face. But, as I squeeze, I feel the pressure within my own throat - the harder I force myself, the less I’m able to breathe. As my lungs start to burn, I drop the boy. We both collapse to the ground, coughing and spluttering; gasping for air. I manage to choke out the words “If I were you, mortal. I would run.” The voice in his head urges him to heed the creature’s warning and go, try to save his life. But for some reason he simply didn’t want to move. He should have feared for the safety of his friends, he should have been at least a mile away by now, but he simply couldn’t ignore a second voice in his head which had been teasing him for some time now: “Why can’t he hurt me? Why does he feel what I am feeling? When he tried to squeeze the life out of me, he nearly succeeded in killing himself”. He couldn’t go. He was too… curious to go. He’d almost died on the spot when the Demon had tried to choke him, but one thing was clear to him. The Demon couldn’t harm him. "You can’t hurt me demon!” The Mortal shouted. “There’s nothing you can do to me.” “Perhaps not physically, boy.” I snapped back. “What?!” He froze “What do you mean?” I stare at him.. my healed and pain-free mind is literally racing. I have never encountered a human who can’t be harmed. Mind you, I’ve never encountered a human… in this domain. Which reminds me… there’s a whole world out there for me to explore now! And so I grin at the small mortal. “In time, you and the rest of your kind will witness precisely what I mean. But for now, you’re not worth my attention, child. So take your good fortune, flee and be thankful for it.” I turn from him and begin striding away. The soil beneath my feet a welcome reminder of my newly found freedom. But as our distance widens, I begin to feel as if I’m wading through the river of Styx. Each step becomes more and more of a vigorous effort. I look back over my shoulder and see him continuing to stare at me. With every ounce of strength in my powerful body, I take one further step and in the corner of my eye, I see him stumble forward. With each energy sapping footstep I see his body dragged across the ground in my direction. Nearing exhaustion I stop. “No.” I groan. “No it can’t be.” The realisation is dawning on me. “YOU!” I snap at the boy “What hex have you cast upon me?!” As he watches the Demon trying to leave in vain, the human heard him yelling and he thought about the situation quickly. His mind tried to rationalise: ”He can’t run away from me. He can’t harm me. I summoned him. Accidentally, yes.. but he made it out of Hell just because… I called him out. I told him to come here…” A crazy idea pops into the boy’s mind. He raises his head and locked eyes with me. “Hey you! Demon!” The boy cried. “Kneel!” A wave of anger flushes through me “I KNEEL FOR NO ONE!!!” I roar back. But, in the darkest parts of my being, as he spoke the words… I did feel a compulsion. The boy, without even thinking, opened his mouth and yelled once more: "Oh you will kneel for ME! YOUR master! I summoned YOU! You are here thanks to me!” He bawled.” Now you have to do as I command you! I know you’re unable to harm me, which means I must have some sort of power over you! So when I say kneel. YOU - WILL - KNEEL!” As he howled the last word, I felt the earth shudder beneath my feet. The idea enters my mind. Not from my own will… but I can feel it… his anger, his desire, his will pushing into me. And so I resist. I fight the overriding desire to kneel to him. But I feel my body quiver. In horror I watch as my legs fold under me. I fight again. Pushing my obvious supremacy back against his request. But I sink lower. Before I can take stock of the situation, I am on bended knee. Eyes to the ground. I raise my head and am instantly shocked at what I see. The boy was kneeling too. In that instant, we are a physical mirror of each other. And he appeared just as shocked as I was. A smile crosses my face again. “That didn’t seem to work as you intended, did it… ‘Master’?” “What is happening?!” The boy panicked internally. "Why am I kneeling? That shouldn’t be… What has he done to me?”The fear flashing across his eyes. “Seems to me, ‘Oh Glorious Master,’” I smirk, “that you and I, are bonded.” “What the hell does that mean?!” The Mortal snaps. I take a second to consider the question and the grin on my face slowly fades. “Honestly…? I don’t know.” “How can you not know?!” He blurted. “As I said earlier, young one, we are in uncharted territory here.” I begin. “When a summoner calls upon a demon, they do so with intent…. so what did you intend, boy?” The boy stops. His memory trying to recall. “When I read what was on the paper, I didn’t have any intent whatsoever.. I didn’t even know what it was!” He cried. “I simply came here tonight with my friends because the guys said this place was abandoned - I like spooky tales… I wanted to go on an adventure and explore the supernatural with the guys.” “That! There!” I realise. “That’s it.” “What’s it?!” He quizzes. “I don’t understand.” “You… desire to belong.” I ponder. “These ‘guys’, you desire to be in their company?” The boy breaks my gaze. He looks awkwardly at his feet. “Well… yes… I do… I really do… but it’s… not so simple.” I look blankly at the youthful mortal. “Calling them ‘friends’… isn’t accurate.” He continues. “They’re actually bullies - they’ve mistreated me since I started high school. Always said that I was weak, a ‘pussy’.” He grumbled. “Today, when they dared me to go there, I thought ‘well, tonight we are gonna see who’s the pussy!’ I was sure a bunch of muscle-heads like those guys were all tough on the outside, but in reality had issues and complexes as every other person on earth!” I looked at the pitiful boy, “You thought that would win their friendship?” I chuckled. “You wanted…. a friend?” “To be honest, I wanted to be more than just a friend to those guys…” He replied as I shifted from kneeling to sitting on the ground. “Go on…” “Well… you see… I have realised for sometime now that… I’m not interested in women… I’m attracted to men. Those guys played a major role in that. Since I can remember, they’ve treated me like shit, as if I was their inferior - as if I was someone who simply should worship them - for they were the prime males of their world, the top dogs, the alpha men. They have been calling me faggot for years now, humiliating me in front of everyone in the school: In front of my classmates, in front of the teachers. They have been accusing me of ogling, staring at their muscles and their… packages.” The truth poured out of the young human. “To be honest, I tried to become like them, do some sports, put on some muscle, but the coach didn’t believe in me and put me in the locker room cleaning up after his boys’ mess. And there was the first time I felt it. They were always showing off their muscled bodies, accusing me of being a faggot looking at them, desiring them, wanting to suck their cock and clean their sweaty muscles with my tongue… well… that was my world, and, if you spent year after year waking up and going to sleep having all this in your head playing over and over again, I assume even if it weren’t true, eventually it becomes your reality. And that’s how I started falling in love with them, looking at them undress in the lockers, smelling their pungent stink after every practice, seeing the sweat dripping off their shirts and compression shorts…. I wanted to be everywhere they were. After a certain point, I stopped caring about their insults, I simply didn’t care as long as I was close to them, seeing them, smelling them… And that’s how I ended up here, tonight, sitting…. wherever the hell we are…. talking to a demon.” I took a moment to look at the boy from head to toe. Most people who had disclosed what he had would do so with a sense of self-pity or shame… but in him… it was almost like he was indifferent to it. Like he had accepted his role as an inferior so entirely… and it didn’t sit well with me. “So, that’s what the whole ’kneel’ matter was about? You trying to dominate?” I pondered.“I still don’t see how that would bond us.” I mused aloud. “Perhaps I’m not supposed to.” I rose to my feet; and offered the young Mortal a hand up. “He works in mysterious ways.” I smiled. “God?” He asked. “No… the other guy.” I grinned, pointing a thumb down. The boy stared at my two softly glowing eyes as he extended his hand towards the demon. “So you don’t want to kill me now?” “Something tells me it would be best for us both for me to not.” I take a chance to breathe deep. “Besides, it might be best to have someone who knows much of the human world.” I smiled. “Especially if I’m going to claim it.” The colour seemed to drain from the boy’s face “’Claim it’?! You mean, you want to own the world?!” “Well now, see here’s the thing. As you summoned me without condition… I have no need to return… down there.” I stroke a hand tenderly down the young mortal’s face. “And I’m going to need a helping hand to make myself comfortable here. You’ve told me what you want with your ‘friends’, that’s well within the scope of possibility.” I stretch as if waking from a deep sleep. “But you’re thinking awfully small, little mortal.” “What do you mean?!” The young human asked. “A couple boys who’ve bullied you? I can look into what awaits… a whole existence of being second best; beat down, ignored and belittled.” I grasp his shoulder. “But now; the two of us… we can make this world whatever we want.” “I don’t understand. How can I, a human, help a supernatural being as you? I have no powers, no influence as a person in this world.” He speaks, panic and nervousness quickened his speech. “And why should I help you? After all you’re a demon, you say you want to ‘claim’ the world. Why should I be the one to bring damnation on the entire human race?” “You’re not getting this, are you? Little one.. you and me. We’re stuck together. Joined at the soul for the rest of eternity. And as you say - you have no power, no influence. So I guess what I’m saying is this; you’re along for the ride whether you want to be or not”. I grinned wildly.
  8. lasergaser14

    transformation CREO Pt. 3

    And here's part three. Enjoy! Jimmy sat sprawled on his bed, heart pounding, phone in hand, taking in the sight of his angry, worried, and shocked roommate. Before Jimmy’s transformation, he and Seth had been similarly unappealing. Jimmy had been small, unimpressive, and sort weedy and rat-like, with bad skin to boot; Seth was--well, he was just kind of gross. Overweight, greasy, ungroomed, and perpetually unkempt and unshowered. He looked like he hung out in sketchy back rooms (which he did) and didn’t mind getting messy (which he didn’t), with the downside, of course, being that he never bothered to get clean. Seth’s small, watery eyes were narrowed as he stared at the golden god on his roommate’s bed. “Who the fuck are you? Why do you have the phone I gave Jimmy for his birthday?” Jimmy inhaled. This was going to take a lot of explaining. “Seth, it’s me. I’m Jimmy. The phone you gave me had an app on it, and like...it changed me. I’m this guy now. I mean, this is me. I’m blond and hot now.” Seth snorted. “Bullshit. That’s not possible. That phone’s a cheap Apple knockoff--it’ll probably break next week.” Jimmy shook his head. “No, Seth. Look, it’s--” “How the fuck do you know my name?” “Because it’s me! I’m Jimmy!” Seth narrowed his eyes again. “That’s not possible, asshole.” Jimmy groaned in frustration. “Come on, Seth. Ask me something only I’d know! I can tell you stuff about you! Like...how I wrote your history essay for you last week, because you bought that rotisserie chicken for us! About the Italian Wars in the Renaissance?” Seth shook his head. “Nope. That just proves that you’re some kind of crazy stalker creep, or something.” Jimmy shook his head, growing frantic. “No! I’m not!” An idea hit him. “Wait! I can prove it!” He grabbed his phone. “Creo, make me--uh--give me a tattoo!” “Where would you like your tattoo?” the app said pleasantly. “And what would you like it to be of?” “Shit, I don’t care. Um. On my pec. Somewhere Seth can see it.” Nothing happened--Jimmy knew he had to be more specific. “One of those dumb ‘Veni, Vidi, Vici’ tattoos. On my left pec.” As Seth’s eyebrows went up in disbelief, Jimmy felt a slight heat on his left-hand pec. When he looked down, there was a tattoo, in a modified Roman script, of the famous Latin phrase. He looked up at Seth, his heart beating quickly. “See?” he said. “I’m Jimmy. I just...changed myself. With...with the phone you gave me. With the app on it.” He held up the phone, offering it to Seth, who gingerly took it from him. Seth looked down at the phone, which still had that silvery, liquid screen, and then looked back at Jimmy. He reached out and touched the tattoo on his upper pec--and then, without saying anything, groped the rest of the large, round muscle. Something clicked for him, and his eyes widened in disbelief and shock. “Oh, shit,” he said softly. Then his expression changed to a delighted, if calculating grin. “Oh, shit.” The screen on the app changed somehow, and Seth began tapping around, although Jimmy couldn’t see what he was seeing, and had no idea what he was learning. Seth’s expression remained surprised and delighted, and he looked at Jimmy, meeting his eyes. “Dude, this is...do you have any idea what you have here?” he said softly. “We’re gonna be rich.” He licked his lips. “We’re gonna be hot.” He laughed. “We’re gonna get so much fucking ass.” Seth held up the phone up to his mouth and spoke into it. “Yo, Creo. Make me hot. Hotter than Jimmy.” Nothing happened. Seth made a face. “Creo? App? What the fuck is happening?” “CREO is a consensual reality-alteration app,” the voice explained. “I am licensed only to the original user. All transformations must involve both his consent, and the consent of the transforming party.” Seth nodded, narrowing his eyes and looking at Jimmy. It appeared that he hadn’t been banking on that: Jimmy was still necessary for his plans. He handed the phone back to his roommate. “Okay, Jimmy,” he said. “Tell it to make me hot.” Jimmy nodded. “Creo, you have my permission to transform Seth.” The app chimed. “Thank you. New user, please press your thumb on the sensor for identification.” Seth did, and there was another chime, but he remained his greasy self. “App? Why aren’t I changing?” “Would you like a generic transformation? Or would you like to control your own?” Seth’s grin got huge. “Oh, I definitely want to control it.” The screen on the phone changed: a list of stats, all of them variable. Seth looked at them and began planning with them. “Creo, can you show me what Jimmy’s stats are?” He smirked at his roommate. “So that I can make myself hotter.” Another chime, and the phone’s screen filled with Jimmy’s stats, next to the sliders and input boxes for Seth. Jimmy’s heart was still pounding, and Seth grabbed the chair from his desk, sank down, and got to work. Deprived of his phone, Jimmy had nothing to distract himself with other than the mirror and his body. It was a potent distraction: every few seconds, he’d catch a glimpse of himself, and remember that reality had shifted immensely. That would make his cock twitch, and then he’d absently feel himself up, his pecs would bounce and his abs would flex, and then he’d see Seth sitting across from him, and lay off until the whole cycle started again. About ten minutes later, Seth grinned and looked up. “Okay. I think I’m done.” He smirked at Jimmy. “Sorry, dude, but you’re not anywhere near as hot as I’m about to be.” He tapped the phone’s screen. “Okay, Creo. Engage, or whatever.” There was another chime, and almost immediately, Seth started changing. Jimmy had only seen his own transformation, of course. He was experiencing this one from the outside: without the feeling of pressure and the release of pleasure that came with it, although there was plenty of pleasure to be had from watching Seth transform into an unrecognizably hot god. Jimmy was surprised: Seth had good taste in guys. Great taste in guys. Either his shitty roommate was more bisexual than he let on, or he was an experienced, dispassionate connoisseur of the male form. The first thing to happen was Seth’s weight. The pounds just melted off him, leaving him lean and angular. He jumped out of the chair as it happened--either because he as feeling a surge or energy from the transformation, or because he realized he needed to get out of his clothes, Jimmy didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. Seth pulled off his shirt, revealing a skinny, bony, pasty-pale chest, and then he yanked off his stained sweats. He stood in front of Jimmy in his old yellow boxers, newly skinny, his changes only just beginning. They all happened more or less at once, because Seth had planned them out beforehand. Jimmy’s eyes kept darting from his face, to his chest, to his legs, to his crotch, trying to take in the entire transformation at once. Seth’s face changed, unsurprisingly, into a countenance that would have worked on a runway in Milan, or the cover of a magazine. His hair darkened from a greasy light brown to a glossy almost black, resting on his head in a stylish mess only slightly different from Jimmy’s. His jawline stretched so wide that it looked like it would crack; instead, it became square, and his chin refashioned itself to balance the whole thing out. His cheekbones rose as the skin pulled taut across them, and his nose straightened, and even lengthened as his eyes widened, and then darkened into a dazzling green. Seth smiled, revealing teeth that were even and bright white, and when he closed his mouth again, his lips had become, unsurprisingly, a wide, pouty cupid’s bow. Seth shot up, as well--he had been serious about wanting to be hotter than Jimmy, and seemed to have taken that to mean that he would add a few inches or pounds onto every single one of Jimmy’s measurements. He was now six feet, three inches, and as his body began to fill with muscle, he started looking like da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man (provided you swapped out his Renaissance proportions for modern aesthetic bodybuilding proportions, which was, of course, exactly what Seth had done). Seth’s body shape began to change. His shoulders grew outwards, giving him a powerful, broad look, and his waist drew inwards, tightening to almost delicate proportions. The muscle didn’t start packing on just yet: this was the readjustment of his frame, the transition of his genetics that would make any amount of muscle on him look unfairly good. Thas was exactly what happened as he began inflating: as his delts and traps grew, his shoulders looked twice and powerful and broad; as his quads thickened to a size larger than his twenty-eight inch waist, his proportions looked almost herculean. The newly flat stomach rippled with muscle, become a veiny, shredded eight pack; his pecs ballooned over them, perfectly round, striated when he flexed them, and capped with two pert, perfect nipples. Seth’s biceps became swollen, the muscle splitting into the two distinct heads from which they got their name; as he straightened his arms, looking down at them in wonder, his triceps popped through the skin, looking like the perfect horseshoe. “Fuck,” he murmured, his voice now deep and sexy as he put his hand on his abs and dragged his thumb down to his waistband. Seth turned to the side, checking himself out from various angles, allowing Jimmy to see him in profile. His quads had swollen into diamonds, and his ass was ballooning, becoming a shelf of round, perky muscle that looked like it had been sculpted from years of endless squats. His bulge was growing, too: Jimmy was eager to see what Seth had given himself, but knew it would be larger than his, didn’t think that Seth was the type of guy who’d just show him if he asked. As the muscle finished growing, Seth stared at himself in the mirror. It was hard to describe what happened next. It was like a wave passed over Seth’s body, finishing things up, modifying it, making the muscles pop to their most appealing extent, softening the harshness of some of his shreds, making some veins, like the cephalic on his bicep, stand out,while making other recede. When it was done, Seth was a god: at two hundred and thirty shredded pounds, he was forty pounds bigger than Jimmy, three inches taller, and looked like the type of guy who cared about nothing so much as he did his own aesthetics. Grinning at Jimmy, Seth cupped his bulge. “I’m gonna go take care of this,” he smirked. “Don’t go to bed, though. That app can do way more than we’ve already done--once I’m finished, we’ve gotta discuss our new life.” He tossed the phone back to his roommate. Leaving Jimmy achingly hard in bed, he disappeared, slamming the door to his own bedroom.
  9. The Benefits of a Personal Trainer Part One Vincent and I OK, before I get started, fair warning: this story has a happy ending. Everybody gets what they want, even though not everybody knew what they wanted or what they needed to become at the beginning. Life, right? This is not that kind of story, but full disclosure: Vincent and I met in a public toilet, or rather, outside one. Both of us had been innocently relieving ourselves at the urinals in the rest room of a downtown mall, and as our eyes wandered, we clocked each other. I reddened at getting caught so easily, but he was waiting when I followed him out a moment later. We went for a drink, and in future always told everybody that it was in the bar that we met. The relationship developed quickly and pretty effortlessly from there. I was smitten with this adorable guy with the slightly diffident manner who had appeared in my life. We clicked. We were the same age (28), same height (5’9), and about the same weight, around 150 pounds. Me? I’ve got kind of regular bro features, short red hair, sparse body hair and a lot of freckles everywhere. Vincent wore his dirty blond curly hair long, with a middle parting, framing an angelic face. There was usually a little blond scruff on his upper lip and chin, but this didn’t make any difference whenever he tried to get into a bar; he was always asked to show ID. He was a dancer (but had been sidelined from performance by a knee injury a few years out of dance school; he was transitioning into teaching and choreography by the time we met) with a dancer’s body, not muscular but well-defined. His high, round hairy butt was my favorite part of him from the moment we met. Vincent moved in with me six months after we met. He didn’t seem to mind very much when, after repeated attempts to fuck him when we starting seeing each other, I gave up. I wasn’t working with much in the dick department to begin with and had never been able to stay hard properly to fuck anybody. And I didn’t really want to anyway. As much as I loved all of Vincent, I couldn’t manage it with him, either. Trouble in paradise? Nope: so little did he seem to care that I figured he must have a low sex drive. And I had never liked the idea of getting fucked, so we quickly put that idea to bed, to our mutual relief. Early on, sex became a small part of our strong and settled relationship. There was a dildo, quite a big one, bought by me, in the bedside table drawer, which got used now and then when Vincent’s ass seemed to need it. I liked watching it disappear into his perfect ass after I had licked it until his hole quivered in anticipation, and he always came extra hard when I fucked him with it. I loved that he did not come across as super gay and I think he felt the same about me. Neither of us felt any pressure to “perform” as gay. If we were sexually repressed, it was clear that we had not got together to unrepress each other. We never talked about other men and our devotion to each other made the idea of sleeping around on each other out of the question. A future of domestic happiness seemed to be ahead of us. I know, right? Textbook boring. All that was going to get shaken up, but it took a while before it did, and came out of the blue when it happened. Rex and I When Rex took me on as a client at the gym where he had a personal training business, he warned me that I would need to make a long term commitment if I wanted to see results. Two years later, his firm guidance and my hard work had certainly paid off. Not like one of those staggering transformations you see documented in those ‘My Three Year Muscle Journey’ YouTube videos, not like I had turned into a completely different person. But I had added about 25 pounds of solid muscle, now tipping the scales at a very well proportioned 175 on my 5’9” frame. I was never going to be a muscle beast, but I liked how I looked now. Vincent sometimes made complimentary comments about how much bigger I was than when we met. I didn’t think a lot about Rex in the early days. He was “just” my PT. From the start, I felt kind of complacent knowing I had made the right choice in taking him on. Or lucky that he had taken me on, whichever it was. We did our sessions twice a week - I could afford his prices on the money from my corporate relations job, and some family money gives me a lot of leeway when it comes to discretionary spending - and with very little conversation or personal interaction. I knew increasingly that I trusted Rex to look after me. He radiated strength and calmness. Assertive, for sure, based on an obvious, totally justified and unshakeable confidence in his own skills and personal presence. He was 34 when I met him, with the sort of looks that turn any head effortlessly. I never asked him, but I would say he must be about 6’2”. His mother’s side is German, his father’s Lebanese. He doesn’t take after his mother looks-wise. To look at him, you would call him Middle Eastern for sure. He wears his jet black hair long and slicked back on top, with a high tight fade to the sides, and always had a few days’ dark stubble growing on his strong jaw. But from the neck down, he was a mystery to me. In all the time we trained together, I never saw him wear anything but a baggy track suit, a ball cap usually jammed low on his head. I knew he had to be very big under all that shapeless fitness gear, but had never seen it. He trained himself at another gym. I respected his physical presence, but it was not as if I lusted after him. This was a good thing, from the point of view of me concentrating during our training sessions. Every now and again, though, if he moved in close to guide my movements or tell me how to do something better, I would get a whiff of his scent, which was gone as soon almost as soon as I was aware of it. It always left me momentarily disorientated. Eventually, we started to chat more during our sessions - when I started to need longer rests between sets as I started to lift heavier - usually work stuff from me, sometimes a remark about life at home with Vincent. One time, a long way into training with him, I finally showed him a photo on my phone of Vincent, taken at an event when he was dancing. His eyebrows raised, for a moment, he grunted and nodded, then we moved on to the next exercise. Rex never gave much away about his own personal life; I got the impression that he tended to pick up girls and keep them for a while but was for periods of time unattached. He was always friendly, but maybe a bit aloof. We had just finished our second weekly session one Thursday when he suggested we go to his office for a chat. I followed him through the main gym office into his private room. “Have a seat”, he offered, waving me towards a chair. “Listen, Jason”, he began, his deep rumbling voice friendly but determined, “I have been thinking that it might be time to wrap up our training sessions. You’ve done a good job” - this was Rex’s all purpose phrase for expressing his approval - “and I’m not sure there is much more I can teach you. I don’t like to hold onto clients once they have got the kind of changes they were after. And you are motivated to train well on your own. So how about it? Shall we call time?” I was taken aback. This came out of nowhere. I had learned over our time working together not to argue with Rex. His suggestions usually came across as orders - well mannered, polite, but final. Fifteen minutes later, having aired every reason I could think of to continue the arrangement, Rex would not budge. We were done. But I think I was more surprised than upset, and when Rex shook my hand and pulled me in for a hug, I felt pretty good. I couldn’t actually get my arms around him to return the embrace. I said, wanting to be friendly, that we should do something socially and not lose touch. Rex seemed to think this over for a moment then said, to my surprise, that that we should do that. “Why don’t you invite me to dinner? I’d like to meet Vincent after hearing about him all this time. I would invite you to my place but I don’t cook.” I spluttered that dinner would be fine. I said I would check with Vincent and get back to him with a date. He said, like it was obvious, that the following Saturday would suit him very well. Rex and Us Vincent didn’t seem very interested when I mentioned that Rex would be coming over for dinner the following Saturday. He just about remembered that Rex had been my gym trainer for almost as long as we had been together. “I hope he doesn’t stay too late”, was all Vincent said. “I’m rehearsing a new piece all day and I’m gonna be tired by the time I get back on Saturday.” “I will cook, babe, no problem”, I offered. And nothing more was said. Come Saturday evening, I had everything ready well ahead of 7 pm when Rex was due to arrive. But no Vincent. He finally came through the door just before 7 pm, complaining that the rehearsal had gone on and on, long past when it was supposed to finish. He hadn’t had any time to shower or change at the dance studio, and was still in his workout gear - track bottoms over tights and a cut off t-shirt. The musk he gave off after a day’s work in the studio hit me as we hugged each other in greeting. “Aww babe, that sucks. Everything’s ready, so all you need to do is just go clean up”, I urged. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and disappeared into our bedroom. I suddenly felt liking following him and bury my face in his ass for a while, but our dinner guest was due any minute. The intercom buzzed at exactly 7 pm. When I opened the door to Rex, I was completely stunned by the sight in front of me. The man at my door could have been related to my trainer Rex from the gym - same height, same hair, same uber handsome face - but there the similarity ended. This was not Rex of the baggy track gear and ball cap. To come to dinner at my place, Rex had chosen a tight, red, fine mesh V neck t-shirt and jeans so tight that they looked like they had been painted on, accentuating every curve of his ass and legs. He wore calf-high snakeskin boots and, around his neck, a chunky gold chain that perched high on his chest mounds. Chest hair was abundant in the plunge of his V neck t-shirt, and short, black hair also covered his forearms. The sleeves were cut high on his shoulders, so tufts of dark curly pit hair from his underarms poked out, too. Rex’s outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination, except for the extent of the package inside the pronounced bulge in his crotch, which drew my attention. “Hey, up here, Jason”, he laughed, catching me lingering over that crotch a moment too long. Fuck, busted already, I thought, as I reddened and muttered a brief, spluttering apology. He waved a hand in friendly dismissal, stepping into the hallway. I pointed him through the door into the living room and as he went in ahead of me, I got a look at the thickness of his massive back and the slabs of triceps muscle to the rear of his huge arms. I had never, in all the time I trained with Rex, imagined he had a body like the one I was now trying and failing to perv over discreetly. So hot, so unobtainably, fantastically hot, I thought. I couldn’t figure out why Rex, who had never given me any reason to believe he was other than 100% straight, would show up at my place dressed to show off his assets in a way that was 100% certain to give any gay man a boner. Like the one I was already struggling to hide as I followed him into the living room. “Jason, have you decided what you are wearing tonight. I thought maybe just a t-shirt and shorts, but - “. Vincent had wandered into the living room, still not showered but stripped down to his dance belt. He stopped talking when he caught sight of Rex, and stood just staring. Rex too a couple of steps towards Vincent and offered him his hand. “Uh, Rex this is my partner Vincent. Babe, this is Rex, who you can see has, uh, arrived.” I laughed weakly. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, Rex, prancing around nearly naked. Running late.” Rex nodded gravely in acknowledgement of the apology, but didn’t reply. He and Vincent stood, still shaking hands. They seemed literally unable to take their eyes off each other. Vincent grinned. Rex smiled and nodded again. “Vince, babe, why don’t you go finish getting ready while I sort out some drinks for us?”, I said, rather loudly, to move things along socially, but really to break the spell between them which was fascinating to watch while making me instantly very nervous. Vincent looked reluctant to leave Rex, but he turned after a moment and disappeared back into the bedroom. Rex watched him go, then turned to me and raised an eyebrow. “Well, now”, he said. “You never said that your partner was so beautiful. Congratulations. I guess I would say you are lucky.” “Umm, it’s sweet of you to say that, Rex. He is something else, isn’t he? Some people think he’s out of my league, but I’m definitely lucky whether he is or he isn’t.” I paused. “I mean, I always assumed … you being straight and all, you wouldn’t want to hear too much about my boyfriend.” Rex shook his head. “Nah. You don’t get it, Jason. I don’t think of myself as straight, or anything else that might slow me down when it comes to getting what I want.” He added, bluntly: “I fuck anything I want.” “Oh, got it. Wow. That’s very … clear.” “And you, Jason, do you get what you want?” “Vincent and I have a really good life together”, I said. “We are monogamous, and in love, and we, umm … we like each other physically.” I hoped that was enough to get us off the subject, but Rex just looked expectantly at me. “How about that drink?”, I said, moving towards the kitchen door. “Whiskey, thanks. No ice.” “We mostly drink wine around here”, I said. “But I know there’s a bottle of really good single malt somewhere that my dad gave me for Christmas a while back. It’s great that it is gonna get opened.” I found the bottle of whiskey at the back of a kitchen cupboard, and had just poured out some into a tumbler when Vincent came into the kitchen, now dressed in a pair of track pants, white Nikes and an old t-shirt advertising his dance school. “Oh my god, Jason, you kept that quiet. You never mentioned that your personal trainer is a super hot muscle tank. I mean, fuck, he is unbelievable. Is he even real? I thought you said he was straight.” I started to explain that what we were seeing was not the look I was used to for Rex, and wondered how I could repeat what Rex had told me about his sexual interests, but I stopped when it hit me that Vincent had not showered and had a hard on. I raised an eyebrow and looked meaningfully at the bulge jutting out of his shorts. He shrugged and grinned. (Vincent? Is that you?, I thought) “Is this for Rex?” He asked quickly, picking up the whiskey. “I’ll take it through to him. White wine for me, please.” He turned in the doorway, a look on his face which I had not seen very often, and not for a long time. Lust. “Jason, baby, this could be fun. Please let’s just go with it.” My hands were shaking as I poured a glass of wine for Vincent, and one for myself. My mind was racing as I realized that something was maybe about to happen that I could not stop and I was not sure how I felt about it. But my own dick was already stirring and with a “Fuck it” whispered through gritted teeth, I went back into the living room. The first thing that hit me when I approached Vincent and Rex was the strong scent of their musks mingled in the air, as if sex had already been going on for a long time in an airless room. Vincent’s slender body was pressed up against Rex’s rock solid muscled body, his hands stroking Rex’s heavy biceps, his face turned up to meet Rex’s. Rex kneaded Vincent’s ass with both his hands. They were kissing deeply. Rex looked sideways at me and raised an eyebrow. I stood, wine glasses in hand, my mouth hanging open. “Jason”, he said. “Have a seat.” Rex and Us I stumbled to an armchair and sat heavily down in it, watching my boy friend make out passionately and shamelessly with this hairy, muscled up sexual magnet who had invited himself into our home. Vincent was now grinding his bulging groin against the inside of Rex’s thigh. A wet spot had started on his shorts. Rex broke off the embrace and stepped back, looking slowly from Vincent to me. “OK, fellas, we are gonna do this, right?” We both nodded in unison, without a moment’s thought or hesitation. “Let’s get you both undressed now.” Vincent looked at me for a second before kicking off his sneakers and stripping out of his top and shorts. His thick, uncut 6” cock stood throbbing and leaking. Rex looked Vincent up and down with obvious approval. Rex looked at me briefly and said, a note of impatience in his voice “Hurry up, Jason.” I stood up, unable to take my eyes off of them while I fumbled with my clothes. Finally naked, my almost 5” dick also leaking freely, I faced them, shaking with nerves and lust. Rex gave me a once over. “Yeah, that’s the body I helped you build, Jason. You did the work, and you paid for it, and you are a tidy unit now. Good job, man.” I sensed there was a bit of condescension in this comment, but stuttered a thank you, anyway. Also, Rex had not actually said anything bad about my dick, which made me relax a bit. “So, fellas”, Rex said, taking a long slug of his whiskey, I don’t want to keep you waiting. You can undress me now.” He sat down on the couch, his legs spread wide, the heels of his boots resting on the floor. Vincent did not hesitate. He went down in his knees and started to struggle with pulling a boot off one of Rex’s feet. I scrambled to do the same, easing the other boot off. Rex lifted his arms high above his head and we pulled the skin-tight muscle t-shirt off. His chest and abs were covered in swirls of short dark hair, thick hard nipples pointing down and out. The musk coming off his pits was intense. He settled back on the couch, clasping his hands behind his head. Vincent crawled up one side, burying his face in one wet, bushy pit and I followed his lead. It was almost unbearably hot, licking and sniffing the deep recess of Rex’s pit. Vincent moaned. After some more of this, Rex said, folding his arms across his chest: “So, take a break guys. Tell me, what do you two like to do with each other?” Vincent caught my eye before licking his lips and swallowing hard. “Mostly we just jerk off together sometimes”, he said, very quietly. “Jason likes to lick my ass. Sometimes he uses a dildo on me.” (Shit, I thought, this is Vincent’s “I cannot tell a lie’ thing.) Rex looked at me. Up shot one eyebrow, questioning. I nodded slowly, to confirm Vincent’s brutal summary of our limited sex life. “So, jerking off a bit and no actual fucking. Shame, guys. But I can see why. I’m guessing you are useless at fucking, Jason. And Vinny here (Vinny? I thought) - you are a bottom if I ever met one. But - sorry to put it this way - lazy as fuck in bed. I bet Jason’s not the kind of guy you are thinking about when you jerk off together. Is that about right?” I hung my head and could feel my face getting red. Vincent sighed and nodded decisively. Rex was right on all counts. “Glad we got all that out of the way. I’d say I didn’t get here a minute too soon. Well, Jason, I guess if you like jerking off you are gonna like what I have in mind.” He smirked at me. “As for you, beautiful”, he said, caressing Vincent’s neck, “no more jerking off for you. I can tell you need breeding real bad, and I’m your man for that.” He stood up, waiting. Without a word or a signal, Vincent and I helped him peel off his obscenely tight jeans. I have no idea how he got into them, but getting him out of them was a challenge. Stripped completely naked, Rex’s full, hot masculine glory was overwhelming. Jutting straight up past his thick pubes and navel, almost to the base of his pec mounds, stood the biggest cock I had ever seen in person, and probably in porn. Definitely over 10”, and thick from root to circumcised head. The definition of well hung. His big, hairy, balls hung low, pushed out from between his thighs. His ass was covered in a light dusting of hair, which became thicker and darker where it disappeared into his crack. Stripped and revealed in all his powerful glory, he seemed to completely fill the room. He looked at Vincent, then me. “Now, I know you two are not used to dealing with a dick like this, but I want you both to get on it and do your best.” He settled back on the couch and folded his hands behind his head again. I reached out to touch Rex’s cock, barely able to believe he was letting me. Vincent cupped and stroked his balls with one hand. Rex grunted and shut his eyes. “Just keep on stroking my nuts, Vinny, while Jason gets this big fucker lubed up with his mouth.” My jaw was aching almost as soon as I started sucking Rex’s cock, but it felt like the most important thing in the world to make him feel good: I kept going. Vincent’s face was buried in Rex’s balls. Rex grunted again and started to thrust his cock deeper into my mouth. The smell coming off his crotch was so hot. I started pumping my dick but stopped myself in case I came involuntarily before anything had really started to happen. Vincent had started jerking his own cock but Rex, lazily opening one eye a bit, noticed this and slapped his hand away. Rex had reached around to play with Vincent’s butt by now, and had one finger deep in his hole. Finally, he sat up and said, decisively: “OK, Jason, that’s enough. Scoot back over to your chair and leave the rest to me.” I reluctantly took my mouth off Rex’s cock and returned to the armchair. He gathered Vincent up in his arms and then turned him over, so his legs were splayed off the couch, his feet resting on the floor. The contrast between them was amazing to see. Rex eased his swarthy, hairy muscle body on top of Vincent’s pale, smooth, lithe body, his club of a cock glistening with my spit, poised at Vincent’s puckered hole. Rex turned to look at me, waiting. Rex paused at that moment and looked over at me. His face held a question. I nodded, hypnotized by what I saw. “Please fuck him, Rex. Please.” It sounded like I was begging when I said it. It was Vincent who was begging, loudly, a couple of minutes later when Rex had worked his cock deep inside his ass. The effortless power of his fucking was awesome to watch. “Is this what you want, Vinny?” “God yes, fuck me, Rex.” “Is this what you need, Vinny?” “It’s what I need, Rex. Please, please”, he yelled. Rex’s hips bucked as he sank his mighty fucker completely into Vincent’s hole, At that, Vincent’s untouched cock spurted heavily and he groaned in ecstasy. Rex continued thrusting fast and hard into Vincent’s ass, and what they were saying to each other became panting whispers. After a while, Rex looked at me briefly, not even noticing me frantically pumping my dick, then nodded one final time. He grunted, roared, and came inside my boyfriend’s upturned ass. For me, it was like having a ringside seat at the live filming of the best porn movie ever. I finally jizzed, whimpering, onto my belly at the same time as Rex finished his conquest of Vincent. Rex pulled his cock slowly out of Vincent and rolled off him. Vincent in turn rolled onto Rex, flinging his arms around his upper body and nuzzling his bull neck. “Whose ass is this, Vinny?” “Yours, Rex. Totally yours.” “Good answer, baby. Jason, eyes up here now.” I looked directly at Rex. “You happy about this, Jason?” I nodded yes. “You think Vinny deserves a cock like mine?” I whispered that he did. “Speak up, Jason, let’s hear you say that again.” In a clearer, louder voice, I said how much I had enjoyed what just happened and how much Vincent deserved to get properly fucked by a cock like his. It felt liberating to say it. Rex and Us Somehow, after all that, we got around to dinner. Vincent went to the bathroom to clean up and reappeared in track pants and slide ons. The only thing we had big enough for Rex to wear was a bathrobe, which Rex pulled on over his wide shoulders and left open at the waist. The two of them settled down on the couch and made out some more while I got dinner on the table. The main thing I remember about that meal is that Rex ate everything in sight. (Feeding the beast, I thought) The conversation was relaxed and mostly unmemorable. Rex asked Vincent about his work at the dance school and Vincent explained about the injury which had ended his onstage career. He complimented Rex on the work he had done with me - “Jason is way bigger than he was when we met” - and admitted that, now that he was no longer dancing himself, he often thought about how much he would like to put on some muscle and size. This was news to me. I imagined my lithe, slim boyfriend muscled up. Hot as fuck. “I hear guys say that all the time who never do anything about it”, Rex said. “I bet you would be a fast gainer, Vinny, as long as you eat enough along with the training. You would have amazing proportions with some more upper body muscle mass and a some more bulk in just the right places on your ass and thighs.” Vincent was hanging on every word of this. “Fact is, I got a vacancy in my schedule, now that Jason has decided to train on his own.” I began to protest that it had not been my idea to end our training relationship, but Vincent jumped on this offer fast, saying he would love to try the gym. Rex considered this for a moment. “OK. First session is free, of course. If we keep going, I will just bill at my normal rate. No mixing business and pleasure, right?” he laughed. After dinner, Rex drank another whiskey then announced he had to go. “Clients from 10 am onwards tomorrow morning, fellas. Got to pay the bills. But I’ll stay longer next time, that’s a promise.” (Next time? OK. Wow, I thought.) He dressed slowly, as we watched. At the door, he shook my hand, looked me straight in the eye and thanked me for dinner. “And thanks for this, too”, he said, nodding toward Vincent, who stepped eagerly into his arms for a goodbye kiss. I didn’t plan to say it, but found myself saying, with real feeling: “No Rex, thank you. For everything.” Then he was gone. Vincent and I slumped against the hallway walls, facing each other. “Well”, he said. “Wow.” I nodded slowly. “Jason, I’ve never been fucked like that before.” “I know”, I said. “Jason, he is amazing. I really, really liked it.” “I know”, I said. He looked at me searchingly. “Did you … ?”, he began. “Oh yeah, I did, too. A lot.” Without another word, we went to our bedroom, stripped and fell into bed. We were both asleep within minutes. I remember wondering, as I drifted off, whether I had just been sort of cucked, or started couples therapy. Or both.
  10. Chilis

    muscle growth Pirate Adventures

    Hello everyone! This story will take a different twist after part 1. Oliver is 18 years old. Marcus is 39. The Captain is 20. This story takes place in an old time when pirates were still a thing. Hope you all like it! Feel free to leave suggestions and comments! ------------------ Part 1 The sky was clear, the tides appeared to be calm and the temperature was… well, bearable. Oliver thought that luck was finally on their side. He had boarded this ship weeks ago, and since then only disaster had followed him and the crew. Terrible storms, huge waves, assaulting rival pirates, killing mermaids and even a giant kraken. It had been days of tiring work and lots of dead, but it looked like he could finally have a break from disaster and relax. The boy pulled out a small mirror from his bag and tried to fix his hair. He had messy blonde hair, freckles and a small nose. His green eyes glanced over his face, satisfied with being somewhat adorable looking. He then looked down through the reflection and sighed. Regardless of his attractive facade, Oliver was very disappointed with his body. He was slightly athletic thanks to his sailing job, yet he still felt very skinny. If he wasn’t wearing any clothes, he could’ve seen his thin arms, his flat chest, and his rib bones showing a little. At least he had some decent abs… “What ya doin’, pretty eyes?” Oliver blinked and lost the attention on his mirror. His pal Marcus had showed up out of nowhere, putting an arm around his shoulders. The man was middle aged, ugly as they come. He was missing several teeth, had a dirty beard, and a belly so inflated that Oliver thought it would pop like a bubble at any moment. But despite his disgusting looks, the blonde boy and the hideous pirate had become friends even before boarding the ship. Marcus was fun to be around, and he had a gentle heart, always willing to help his smaller companion. “Looks like our problems are finally over, eh?” Marcus said, extending his arm towards the vast ocean. Oliver chuckled “We shouldn’t let our hopes get too high. I bet another disaster is about to hit us. This is just the sea making fun of us before it does”. “Eerr… aren’t ya a positive one” Marcus went serious all the sudden, observing the horizon “The tide Gods haven’t been generous with us this trip. But I assure you, we will reach the new lands in no time now. The Captain is making sure of it”. The blonde boy frowned “The Captain…”. Oliver had mixed feelings about the Captain. The guy was only a few years older than him, and both of them were younger than everybody in the ship. Still, Oliver was treated like a subordinate, while everyone respected the Captain in an almost religious manner. The blonde boy could see why though… The Captain’s only presence imposed respect and fear. The young man was two heads taller than Oliver, and his body was built with gigantic muscle able to crush anybody that opposed him. The Captain’s frame was lean, yet large enough to stretch out his clothes. He had long dark hair, and piercing blue eyes that sent shivers down your spine whenever you looked at them directly. One large scar went across his nose, while a smaller one decorated his chin. He was a gorgeous, yet terrifying person. Oliver had admired the Captain at first. However, as time passed in the sea, the blonde boy began to envy him. Whenever they were in trouble, the muscular man would save everyone with his powerful body. The Captain was the one that defeated all of their invading enemy pirates with merely his fists. He was the one that wrestled the kraken down. And the one that made the mermaids forget about eating them by making them fall in love with him. Meanwhile, Oliver was sent to clean and cook, unable to defend himself from all the threats, or to help his dying crew friends. “He is a brave man, that one..” said Marcus all the sudden, burping before continuing talking “I have to admit, when I met him I doubted someone so young would be able to navigate the seas. I didn’t even think he could control a whole crew!” “Well, he hasn’t gotten us to the new lands yet…” said Oliver in a low tone, but Marcus didn’t listen to him. “But I am telling ya! After seeing how heroic and strong the Captain is, I have no more doubts about him! I would follow him to the end of the world, ya know! We could all learn more from him…” Marcus seemed to be daydreaming about the young man, and that made Oliver uncomfortable. “Are you in love with him or something?” the blonde guy said, teasing his friend. Instead of being offended, Marcus bursted out laughing “HAH! Aren’t we all on this ship!? Some are saying he is even a demigod, I’m telling ya!” Oliver didn’t expect that answer. He rolled his eyes and walked away. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll see you later, I am not done mopping the main deck” More weeks passed without anything eventful happening. Oliver cleaned, mopped, and cooked as always. He felt relieved that there were no more life threatening things going on, but a new problem was starting to arise. The crew was feeling uneasy; they should've been approaching the new lands by now. However, the ship was still sailing across the vast open ocean, with no shore to be seen anytime soon. Oliver’s friends began to fear that they were going in the wrong direction, but everybody respected (or feared) the Captain too much to demand answers. Besides, the Captain was not seen around the ship much anymore, as he stayed in his cabin most of the time, unless he came out to give orders. Oliver mostly felt unbothered by the situation. Or that was until one night the crew organized a meeting to see who would go ask the Captain about the trajectory of the ship. The filthy pirates started to discuss what to do calmly at first, yet the conversation quickly turned into a heated discussion. “I am not going over there! Have you seen the arm of that man!? It’s bigger than my leg!” someone said. “You are a coward! He is our Captain, he wouldn’t hurt us for a simple question” someone else argued. “Then why don’t you go ask him!?” a third one demanded. “Anyone know if we have more whisky?” added Marcus, clearly drunk. “He deserves respect, he is a demigod! Didn’t you see how he beated up that kraken!?” another one yelled. People kept screaming and pointing fingers. Oliver was just sitting in the corner, cleaning his tiny mirror with some cloth. He listened for a while and tried to ignore the noise. The accusations and demands kept getting louder, and Oliver was feeling more frustrated by the second. The boy clenched his teeth. “Be quiet!” he said, but he was so small that nobody noticed him. He grunted in rage and stood up. “SHUT UP!” he yelled “You are all pathetic! I’ll go talk to him!!!”. This time the crew heard him, and they went silent. All eyes were on Oliver, and he immediately felt embarrassed. Then everyone started laughing. “You!? The Captain will crush you with his finger alone” one person said. “Hah! The Captain is three times your size!” another mentioned. “Seriously guys, where is the whisky?” Marcus commented, scratching his head. “Go back to the kitchen, boy!” someone yelled. Oliver’s face turned red and he clenched his fists in rage. He gave the crew a defiant expression, and stormed out. The crew just kept laughing behind him, thinking that the blonde boy had gone to cry in his room. But Oliver felt a bright flame inside him, and he headed to the Captain’s cabin. “Stupid pirates, you’ll see” Oliver stood in front of the cabin’s door for a moment. He raised his fist with hesitation, doubting if he should do this after all. Then he remembered the crew laughing at him, and he knocked the door with rage. No answer. He knocked again, and again. Only the sound of the waves against the ship could be heard. Oliver was about to knock a fourth time when the door opened. The blond boy almost fell down on his butt as the huge frame appeared in front of him. “C-captain. A-ahoy!” Oliver managed to stutter. The Captain was so tall that his wide chest was facing Oliver’s face. The young man was wearing elegant sailor clothes, but he had ripped his shirt’s sleeves off to reveal his enormous arms. He looked down at the blonde boy, and Oliver felt some kind of hatred and admiration towards him. The Captain had a youthful face, almost the same as Oliver, but that was the only similar aspect between the two. The large pirate had a prominent beard that was trimmed short with a knife. His hair was bushy and heroic looking. He was bigger, stronger, and more attractive than anyone on the ship. Oliver frowned, frustrated with the idea that this guy was almost his same age, yet more of a man he would ever be. The Captain tilted his head without saying anything, awaiting for Oliver to speak. His chest was raising up and down, his breath clearly displaying the power his body possessed. Oliver swallowed, and then stood firmly “T-t-the- c-c-rew...” He shut his mouth, enraged that he was too nervous to talk. The Captain simply chuckled and turned his back to him. “Come in” Oliver looked at the back of the Captain, twice his own torso. He walked inside and observed the cabin. The place was filled with mirrors, way too many for a normal room. The desk was full of maps and other sailing objects. From the window, the moonlight sprayed it’s brightness over the frame of the large Captain. The man was looking at one of the many reflective glasses, his blue eyes locked on his own body. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” said the Captain. Oliver raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he was talking about. “What is?” The Captain raised his arm and flexed. His biceps rose up like a mountain, muscle stretching his skin thin. The blonde boy couldn’t stop staring, amazed by how hard and strong the muscle looked. “My body, of course…” commented the Captain. Oliver narrowed his eyes, confused. He looked away and pretended that he was not drooling over the sculpted body of the Captain. “S-sure…” Oliver answered “Um… s-sir. The crew has b-been wondering…” Suddenly Oliver felt a stream of courage running through his being “The crew… The crew has been wondering if we are going in the right direction! We should be arriving in the new land by now, but there is nothing out there except for the ocean! We are starting to question if you are actually capable of navigating this ship. After all, you are just a boy like me” Oliver spoke so quickly he felt almost out of breath when he finished. He looked at the Captain with an exhilarating smile, and instantly felt regret as the man turned to face him. “We are not going to the new land” said the Captain blandly. “W-what?” Oliver felt even smaller while the muscular man approached him. The Captain snatched him by the neck and lifted up his body. He wasn’t choking him, but he was still grabbing him firmly like a puppet. “Was I not clear? We are not going to the new land” the Captain smiled. His smirk would’ve looked terrifying, if his face wasn’t so perfectly handsome... “I have other goals in mind... I might be stronger than anyone in this pathetic ship, but I still can’t navigate a ship on my own. You silly pirates were a great help to get me across the sea though. Thank you” The man flexed the arm he was holding Oliver with, muscle bulging out everywhere. He grinned more “I suppose there is no need to pretend I care about you all anymore, as we are approaching our destination” Oliver started shaking, trying to set himself free “W-what are you doing!? The crew respects you, why are you betraying them like that!? Where are we even going!” The blonde boy grabbed the Captain’s arm, trying to push away. It was like holding a pillar of rock, and Oliver wasn’t sure if he was aroused or scared. He was envious, for sure. He also felt so helpless. The Captain chuckled. He moved Oliver, pulling him towards him. He was now carrying him in his arms. The blonde boy could feel all the hard muscle around him, while the Captain hugged him with his mighty arms like a baby. “Don’t worry, I do not intend to hurt any of you” he locked his blue eyes with Oliver’s “Aren’t you pretty? I might keep you around... I bet you’d like it” Then he walked to one large mirror and smashed Oliver against it. The Captain pushed his frame against his, and started thrusting with his whole figure. Oliver felt like a beast was smashing him, muscle pressing against his own body, pure raw strength overpowering him. The Captain was simply looking at himself flexing, almost making out with his reflection, while Oliver was getting squished. “I am such perfection. Look at my muscles, so strong, so powerful. You are feeling the full power of a perfect being!” Oliver tried to push him away or escape, but it was useless. The Captain’s body was too large and muscular for him to do anything. Nevertheless, the blonde boy soon was now longer scared; he was moaning, his hand grabbing and touching every part of the muscular man. Oliver felt so much admiration, and so much rage and envy… “That 's right. You know your place now” said the Captain, still observing himself instead of the blonde boy “I’ve been watching you, you know? You are the only pretty thing in this hideous ship. Except for me, obviously. You’ll be a great pet” The Captain started thrusting harder, his huge bulge rubbing against Oliver, evidently hard. The mirror started to crack, unable to contain the muscle strength “We are going to a place where I will obtain all the power I deserve. A forgotten place by many, but not me. I will take what’s mine” “I-I… I will not let you get away with his” Oliver managed to yell “I’ll tell the crew. They won’t accept this” The Captain laughed out loud. He then began kissing his reflection, flexing his muscles all over Oliver, pushing him harder and harder against the surface. The mirror finally gave in and broke in pieces. The blonde boy let out a scream of pain, arousal and surprise. The Captain stepped back with a proud grin, breathing intensely, and with his sweaty muscle shining under the moonlight. Oliver just dropped to his knees, and noticed that his crotch was wet. He looked up to the captain, feeling pathetic and defeated. The Captain was still full of energy, and he continued flexing his big muscles while watching them bulge up and harden. Without even bothering to look at Oliver, he said “What is the crew going to do about it? They think I am a demigod! And to be honest, they might be right…” The muscle man grabbed the blonde boy by the shirt and lifted him up. Without warning, he kissed him softly “You and everyone in this ship will keep doing what I say. And you are staying here, with me. There’s nothing you can do about it, my pet” Oliver wanted to run away, to punch him, to scream for help. But he felt so tired, so weak. His vision got blurry, and before he could say anything, he passed out.
  11. lasergaser14

    transformation CREO Pt. 1

    Hi, all! This is my first real story post on this forum. I posted a few stories in the old forum, but never finished them: This is actually one of those, but edited and modified, and hopefully a little bit more interesting (and eventually, aligned with my interests as they are now, rather than...ten years ago). I admire everyone who posts so regularly--I'll do my best to keep this up, provided y'all like it. Comments, of course, welcome! Jimmy plodded through the door of his shabby bedroom, threw his schoolbag on the faded bedspread, collapsed into his rickety desk chair with a sigh, and buried his face in his hands. “I'm sick of this,” he muttered into his palms. Jimmy was sick of all of it. Sick of having to work his way through school for minimum wage. Sick of being skinny and malnourished. Sick of sharing a shitty apartment with his shitty roommate, who was always trying to loop him into a get-rich-quick scheme (which inevitably failed). Sick of looking like he was fourteen even though he was nineteen. Sick of getting beaten up for being so small, and having to keep his head down at his convenience store job for fear of getting jumped. Sick of feeling like he had to hide most of the details of his life from his friends so that he wouldn't get made fun of. Take today, for instance—it was his birthday, and when his friend Danny had asked if he was doing anything (he insinuated that he had a cake and a gift he'd like to bring over), Jimmy had had to say no, that he had to work late, and that his birthday celebration would be that weekend with family that lived out of town. Jimmy had no family out of town—and while it was true that he often worked late, he wasn’t scheduled to work that night. He just didn't want to face the sad reality of his life with a friend. Jimmy looked at his watch—it was barely four in the afternoon. He’d just had his mind-numbingly boring Econ 101 lecture, and knew he had a mountain of homework and reading to get to--but after pulling a book out of his bag and sitting with it at his desk, he just couldn’t bring himself to open it. Sighing, he stood up from his desk and wandered into the kitchen, searching for a bag of chips, when his eyes fell on a package resting on the counter. “J--Happy Birthday. Hope this works. I owe you one if it’s broken.” It was his roommate’s handwriting. Jimmy’s eyebrows went up in disbelief. Had shitty Kyle really gotten him a birthday gift? That was unexpected--and weirdly sweet of him. He tore off the brown paper, revealing a smooth white box of thin cardboard with crisp creases and sharp edges. His eyebrows went up even higher. Had his roommate gotten him a new phone? Jimmy opened the box with nervous excitement. Could it be? Was it possible? Inside, nestled amongst a few folds of tissue paper, was a small, solid, shiny black rectangle—something that, at first glance, could be mistaken for a new iPhone. “Shit, he must’ve seen me complaining the other week!” he grinned. Jimmy’s phone was an antiquated iPhone that he’d gotten used. This one didn’t look used--maybe refurbished?--but it also didn’t actually look like a real iPhone: there was something suspiciously sleek and shiny about the metal casing, something almost liquid about the glass cover. Jimmy pressed the button to power it on, and the screen flashed the Apple logo for a moment before showing the main interface. In the second that the Apple logo flashed, Jimmy could have sworn that instead of the classic apple with a bite out of it, the screen showed a whole apple—but this was an off-brand, so who cared? Hauling his old brick-like phone out of his pocket, Jimmy got to work figuring out of he could move his shitty plan over. It was surprisingly easy, and later that night, Jimmy was still sitting up in his room, playing with the features of his new phone, waiting for his roommate to come home so he could thank him. It was basically the same as an iPhone, and Jimmy had begun to make an excited call to Danny before realizing that he didn't know what he would say. Reluctantly, he pressed the “Cancel Call” button, sending Danny a text instead. “Hey, sorry I was shitty earlier. Let’s chill tomorrow.” Jimmy touched the icon on the screen for “Apps,” curious about what apps an off-brand iPhone came with. Aside from settings, messages, weather, a clock, and the like, there was only one app already on the phone, entitled “CREO.” Thinking that it must be a freebie, he tapped it, not sure what to expect. The screen went black, then an odd silvery color, like the reflective tint that underlies the negative space in a mirror. Jimmy waited, looking at his reflection in the screen. “Great, a mirror app,” he thought. “Just what I need—another reminder of how ugly I am.” He sighed and almost turned the phone off, but noticed that the uneaten apple had appeared in the silvery screen again. Jimmy paused, and as he stared, the word “CREO” appeared underneath it. The screen went blank again. “Must be an advertisement. That silvery background is pretty cool, though.” Just then, a black box appeared in the middle of a white screen with the instructions “Place thumb on sensor for security recognition.” Almost in a dream, Jimmy pressed his right thumb against the small round sensor below the screen. The phone made a small beep, and the screen cleared itself to read “CREOmode engaged. Press thumb again to end.” The screen went silvery again, and Jimmy was looking at his own, squinty face again. “CREOmode? I wonder that that means? But here's that silvery screen again—this has to be a fancy ad, or mirror app.” Jimmy sighed—he had gotten excited for a few seconds, about what, he didn't know. Looking at himself in the screen—it gave a much clearer reflection of his face than the warped mirror in his room—he studied his facial features. In addition to being short and small for his age (he was barely five feet, weighing in at about a hundred pounds) malnutrition and other circumstances had left Jimmy with a rather unfortunate face. He was pockmarked, his eyes were forever squinting, and his mousy hair was ratty and strawlike, always a bit too long or too short. Puberty hadn't brought on the acne-hiding stubble he had hoped it would—the best he got was an unfortunate unibrow. It was the unibrow that Jimmy focused on now, staring at it resentfully in his reflection and wishing it away. “I wish I didn’t have a unibrow,” he sighed. Within a moment, there was a gentle chime from the phone, and without another noise or a tickle, his unibrow was gone. Jimmy started backwards, almost falling out of his old desk chair. He shot his hand up to his forehead to feel—there was no unibrow any longer. He scrambled out of the chair and over to his mirror for a closer look, but the evidence was the same: without being shaved, waxed, or plucked, the dense cluster of hairs between Jimmy's eyebrows had just completely disappeared. Immediately suspicious, he dropped the iPhone onto his desk and stared at it, breathing heavily to calm himself. “What the fuck just happened?” he murmured, moving closer, looking into the silvery screen again. “You’ve activated CREOmode,” a pleasant voice said from his phone. “Would you like to activate voice help?” The voice was close to Apple’s Siri, but not quite--in fact, it was difficult to tell if it was supposed to be masculine or feminine. That was probably on purpose. “Yes, please,” Jimmy said, his heart pounding. “What does this app do?” “CREO is currently in Beta. We are a consensual reality-alteration app, focused primarily on personal circumstance. Our goal is to help create a better world, one person at a time.” Jimmy gulped, his mind racing. “So how do I use it?” “There are different modes, but you are currently using voice mode. The AI is equipped to walk you through a personal transformation through vocal command.” Not super helpful. “How does it work?” “There are different modes, but…” Jimmy cut the voice off. “No, no. You’re just repeating yourself. How does the app change reality?” There was silence for a moment. “I’m not authorized to explain that, and you are not authorized to possess that information.” Jimmy looked at his reflection in the phone screen, feeling the space where his unibrow had been. If he hadn’t been positive that something miraculous had already happened, he probably would have tossed the phone away and gone to sleep--but instead, with his heart thumping, he decided to go for it. Jimmy looked at his reflection again, focusing this time on his squinty, muddy brown eyes. “Okay,” he said. “Can you change my eyes? Like...make them more attractive?” As he looked at them and concentrated, there was another chime. They seemed to open, going from small, watery slits to wide, almond shaped eyes, expressive and beautiful. The muddy brown slowly disappeared, lightening to an icy blue, then deepening to an intense blue-green that Jimmy somehow knew could change color depending on the light. A quick glance in the bedroom mirror again told Jimmy that the phone wasn't playing tricks on him—either he was imagining things, or this was strangely, oddly, wonderfully real. “Holy shit.” “You weren’t specific, so I changed your eyes to a configuration that most people surveyed found attractive. If you would like to change specific aspects, please do not hesitate to vocalize that request.” Jimmy shook his head. “No...they’re...wow.” Even if he was dreaming, Jimmy decided, he may as well have fun while he could. “Now do my whole face. Make it have like...the hottest, most masculine features. Whatever the most people like.” Another chime. Continuing to look at his face in the screen, he watched his pug nose become longer and straighter, his cheekbones higher and wider, and his forehead smoother. The acne and pockmarks disappeared in a moment, leaving behind luminous skin pulled tightly over his face. His jaw widened, becoming square and so sharp it looked stony. A cleft appeared as his chin moved outwards, changing from a receding jawline to a lantern jaw. His ears moved into his head, and his lips, so thin and small, became wider and poutier, coloring themselves with just the slightest blush of pink, and finishing off with a gentle Cupid's bow. The planes of his face grew strong and defined, and within a moment, rich brown stubble had covered Jimmy's neck and chin. A set of sideburns crept down his face, and his hair, once so matted and mousy, became a lustrous brown that Jimmy knew would shine red and gold in the sun. The length changed, becoming longer on top and tightly faded at the back and sides. When Jimmy could handle the heartwrenching beauty of his face no longer, he turned to the mirror and put his hands up to feel it, and ran his fingertips over his soft lips, his taut skin, his jutting cheekbones. And snorted with laughter again at the vision of this angelic face on his tiny, scrawny, barely-five-foot body. It wouldn’t be correct to say that he didn’t feel anything as it was happening: there was a definite pressure in his face, and the bizarre sensation of his skin stretching, tightening, and toning over his skull as his appearance changed. It didn’t hurt, exactly--it sort of felt like it might have hurt in the past, but no longer. There was a gentle hum, or a buzz, under his skin. It was hard to put into words, exactly. “Oh, wow,” he breathed, unable to take his hands off his face. “Okay...ummm...what should I call you?” “You can call me Creo,” said the app in a pleasant voice. “Okay, Creo. Can I be six feet tall? He experienced a crushing wave of vertigo. When it passed, he realized that the room was different—it seemed smaller, somehow. He knew he was six feet tall--but since he hadn’t requested a weight change, or proportional growth, he was even more skeletally thin than before. Jimmy peeled off his shirt, almost losing his balance as he did: his arms were much longer now, and his center of gravity higher. He took a few steps as he peeled off his shirt, then sank down onto his bed with a thud: walking was a different game now that he was tall. His shirt off, he looked down at his body, distressed to see just how skinny he was, and how absolutely lacking in any form of muscle tone whatsoever. “Creo, can you make me more muscular?” he asked, his heart pounding. “Of course. How much more muscular would you like to be?” “Shit, I don’t know.” He trailed off, staring at the phone screen, which was changing. “Anything is possible, but we have several pre-loaded templates. Feel free to pick one.” Jimmy flipped through the images on the phone screen. They were computer renders of male bodies, already proportional, with listed details, to his six foot height. His dick, small and stunted, was harder than it had ever been as he felt the possibilities. He gulped, landing on an image, and then spoke into the air. “Creo, can I be a muscular athlete?” Looking back in his bedroom mirror as he held the phone in his left hand, Jimmy's beautiful lips stretched into a smirk. Now it was time for the good stuff. Starting with his neck, Jimmy watched as the app slowly added muscle to his body, tightening and toning the skin as it did so, moving down, down, down. Onto the frame of a six foot beanpole with a gaunt yet stunning face, he watched as he gained pound after pound of hard, solid muscle, watching his body expand as he did so. His shoulders widened as his delts ballooned, his biceps lengthening, expanding, contracting even as veins snaked up his forearms. Jimmy watched as Creo gave him a set of triceps that were a little larger than usual, grinning with glee as the horseshoe shaped muscle bulged out when he straightened his now impressive arms. His pecs slowly ballooned out, creating a beautiful crevasse down the middle as his nipples pointed further away and down. His waist, of course, gained almost no inches at all, and his lats flared into a glorious cobra hood as he placed his hands on his waist and spread them. Six-no, eight shredded abdominals slowly came into focus in Jimmy's midsection even as a host of intercostals and inguinal curves made themselves visible as well (owing, of course, to the fact that it never even occurred to Jimmy to have anything remotely resembling body fat: the app’s template kept his body fat well below five percent). Veins snaked down into his pants, and Jimmy ran his thumb up and down the crevice between his abs, marveling at a short brown treasure trail. Jimmy looked down at his legs next, surprised to see that his khaki pants had disappeared, only to be replaced by a pair of elastic-waisted grey gym shorts. His skinny, sticklike legs slowly became thicker and thicker, his quadriceps showing well developed teardrop shaped muscles even as his calves began to look like footballs carved from diamond. His feet grew to keep up with his legs, completing his beautiful, lithe form. Jimmy stepped back, taking stock of himself. A lithe form it was, like a fitness/fashion model. His waist was narrow and his chest wide, and his body fat was low—he looked as if he had played sports all his life, and hit the gym to sculpt, not bulk. As he checked himself out, left hand roving over his new body, he realized something was missing. With another mischievous grin, he pulled off the gym shorts, leaving him naked, staring down at a comically small (yet completely erect) cock. Still smiling, Jimmy began to play with it, watching it to get harder and harder. “Creo, can you...can you make my dick and balls grow? But like, slowly? I’ll tell you when to stop.” “Of course.” Jimmy’s cock began growing, from a measly two inches erect to a slightly more acceptable five. At that point, he stopped jacking himself, and placed the phone where he could still look into it. Still fondling his dick with his left hand, he moved his right around to his ass. “Creo, make my ass bigger, too. Like, serious bubble butt territory.” As his dick grew, his ass also become larger and rounder, and higher and higher. As both continued to grow, he slowly slipped one of his new, masculine fingers into his crack, relishing how tightly his glutes closed around it. After a few more moments, and when Jimmy felt like he was at the peak of orgasm, he stopped and looked into the mirror to take stock of himself. His eyes, for the second time that night, began to water—he was looking at the vision of what he had always wanted to be, what he felt he had always deserved to be. “That’s good, Creo,” he said softly. The face of a teenage heartthrob model rested on the body of an athlete-cum fitness model, while the long, thick cock of a pornstar stood at attention, throbbing gently and dripping precum. His balls hung low in a golden sac, the size of chicken eggs. Jimmy turned to the side to admire his ass, and almost gasped when he saw how round and pert it was, his cock involuntarily growing another few quarters of an inch as he did so. “Damn, I wish I knew what my stats were,” he thought to himself. The screen of the phone was flashing. On it was a list of stats. Jimmy read: Height: 6'0'' Weight: 190 Neck: 18.25'' Chest: 47'' Biceps: 18'' Waist: 27.5'' Quads: 24'' Calves: 18'' Penis length: 9.75'' Penis circumference: 7'' Jimmy looked up from the screen and at his reflection in the mirror again. “Fuuuuuuuck.” In no time at all, his hands were all over his body, feeling every hard, swollen muscle, and relishing each vein, each bump, each perfect combination of flesh, muscle, and bone. His hands were back on his ass and his dick in a flash, and it didn’t take long before he was fingering his hole and jacking his cock, realizing with pleasure that his hand barely made it around the circumference of his shaft anymore. Soon, his hand was out of his ass, and was jacking off with both--then he was feeling himself up with one hand, tweaking a nipple, watching his reflection in the mirror, and aiming his dick directly at his reflection, releasing a geyser of cum onto the flat, shiny surface. His phone had fallen to the floor, forgotten, and his moans echoed through the small, crappy apartment. Jimmy didn’t think he was going to get a lot of sleep that night: this was the best birthday present ever.
  12. QuoteTheRaven

    muscle growth Ejaaz gets Jacked Up (Finished)

    QUARY AND THE MUSCLE FAGS OF KURAI by Quote the Raven (c) JANUARY 2021 Of Quarium, all that could be shared I put forward in an ode. Chapter 1 - Desert (Sahra’) In April each year, Kurai temperatures climb to ninety degrees. They stay there and higher for half a year. - The Non-Arabs’ Guide to Kurai. A hollow concrete form in the center of the Narra al Maktoun Solar Farm 43 kilometers south of Kurai City in Kurai fills a structural role — spacing or reinforcement or something similar. The form sits invisibly amongst hundreds of acres of concrete footings and shiny black glass regiments in an otherwise barren landscape. Ejaaz Eud’laat does not know the purpose of the form, only that he has purposefully found it to shelter in its shaded interior. He swelters as he tapes reflective foil sheets to two cement openings at either end, working wall-to-wall, end-to-end, eight layers thick. The sheets block him in making it more suffocating, stifling and hot than this early July day already is. When the changes start though, the layered separation will not increase the heat, but will do the opposite and enable and protect cold. As Ejaaz endeavors at the curtaining, nerves unsteady him. They tremor his hands and intensely roil his gut. But desire pushes coveting in his veins so extreme that the rhythm of his heart pumping almost throbs aloud the needing of his efforts. He talks to himself. “You’ve done this before, Ejaaz. You’ll do this again. You can do it. You will.” When the layers of sheeting hang completed, he thinks, Get out of these clothes. Robes and keffiyeh that served his former obesity swamp off roomily and effortlessly from his coiled composition — a composition that now only strictly-dieted, intense university cricket or endurance athletics or champion swimming would have forged. He’s never done such training, though, has he. He never went for sport, fuck it, some did, but why could he never have taken to it. He does see now and feel now so palpably how worth it it would have been. He’s never put in years of those kinds of workouts — any fucking kind actually — or that disciplined, necessarily regimented, eating — The eating of the cast iron, forged iron will. He’s never cleaved himself to the half decade that would have forged this goddish muscly whippetness. Oh fuck it up, if only he had fucking done exactly that, what a jack he would have been all along, more so month by month, year by year. With the layers of sheeting and the concrete’s one-foot thickness, the space is dark now, it steams with heat. That’s too be expected — he resists the temptation to doubt how it will work. He drips with boiled sheens of fluid. The way he’s prepared the space, the change to the temperature will surely happen — won’t take long. He knows he knows that. Perspiration almost flows from his so recently chiseled jaw and rolls down his so new hard flat brown front. He takes a giant draft of ionized water. It really is the perfect environment now that it’s sealed off — what is to happen in his body will make it work — hard, foot-thick muffling and insulating walls, ultimately remote, and undiscoverable. And just how fucking remote it is, that is the key really — the ultimate reason for choosing here... oh yeah if he could be a betting man why wouldn’t he put money on that. But, fuck, he’s betting much more than money isn’t he anyway. His eyes fall to this body and he is greedy with it. It is indescribably beautiful so shredded and hard and chiseledly trim. Fuck yeah. He knows this is just the start. His eyes go also to his briefs. A snicker disrespects the member there. You’re good, baby, you really are, he thinks, I’ve been ok with you, have made you work, but really, you’re still so nothing. You’ll preen so much more, won’t you baby. Both you and muscle, when you’re both big fuck bold boys, I’ll preen you hard won’t I, fucks, you are both just part of what I’m meant for. Prior use has him to this result — improved from so pitiful, so grossly worse than average, so ignorable or really contemptible — the photo of fucking contemptible — doughy, mr full-on gigantic fat load, obese as a fucking fuck — just twenty-one days ago at 20 years old. Doses have changed him so much already haven’t they though? For sure, but changed him only because of his enduring their evil heinousness, uggghh — abiding the fucking heinous torturing violating heinousness — Allah dammit — oh well, he’s done it now — three times — but he won’t stop now — can only dream now to do it over and over and over and over and over and over again. He mouths, “I. HaVE. to.” He crouches into the wall. Remote, concrete-reduced warmth kisses the hard little sweet curvy sweat ass he has cheated himself to now. He wants it fucked right now, but thinks, Thank you. His ass is so perfectly bubbly, little, rock hard.... round. Ohh. It’s so Hard. Unnh. The location gives desolation — his torture chamber will be effectively and brutally unhearable. This jury-rigged, just-passable buffer will grow to be an ample deep freeze chamber against the outside heat, and will let cold accumulate and oh so drive the compound to work. “Fuck you,” he enunciates, knotted inside.“Fuck the fuck.” Bad language has emerged in him destroying what he was. Self-abuse, even just three doses worth, have rape-assaulted him, roughened him, made it so dirty words vulgarize the changing him — oh how they overthrow his twenty years of prissy, pussy, repressive, Arab-old-lady dictated, fucking mores. Urges ejaculate all over that fucked submissiveness, don’t they? His upper lip curls back from his teeth and his breath makes an exhaling snarl. He reaches out now and eases a vial from a cooler. “Fucker!” he spits. It is this vessel’s transforming compound that births the emerging man’s crudities. Tilting the vial, its liquid shifts between silver, green, gold, and blue. Saliva attempts to gather in his mouth, but his pouty lips crack from heat, and from both the charge and the fears. Opening it, the tube puffs a vapor cloud — a shimmering fog. “Slut,” he seethes, “I hate you,” but also he adds, “I fucking worship you, baby.” He’s so incredibly tempted to snort the Quarium, right then and there, and just have it over, just have it so that he feels...feeeEeeEeels it all here and now — euphoria, greatness, grandeur — everything. But he exerts every last tiny kernel of his too limited willpower — snorting isn’t the way. He needs what’s harder but so much more. So, instead, a syringe draws up the liquid beneath the mist. The liquid is called Quarium. “It’s go time. It is. Now is the time to go. To say go. To do it. Please! Come On. It’s go go go go go fucking go gotime to go.” The dose, Quarium loaded all behind the needle, threatens now and he points the ministration at his so alien taut trim crushingly desirable obliqued side, determined to survive and thrive, but not able to escape feeling totally in danger. He’s engaging in absolute self-deceit when he says, “This is completely safe and easy, Ejj!” What, without exaggeration, would be described as unlimited fear jarringly jitters his hand as he attempts entry and the needle jabs a slashing plunge, nothing that remotely approximates a calm, controlled pin. Nearly no part of Ejaaz’s conscious brain can register anything but anxious terror at this moment. The insertion tolerates the gross inaccuracy of his stab though and offers a still acceptable option for pushing in the dose. Just be fucking brave and do it, dammit, Ejaaz!! a shred of his will finally proffers, penetrating into the haze of his alarm. A workable command, his fingers, almost on auto-pilot, squeeze; rivulets thread continuous cold virulence into his flesh. “Yess,” he hopes to say, but more rawly what comes out is “NOOOoOOOoOoOOO!” — so emotional, so afraid at what he knows in an instant is to be intolerable excruciation. The green-silver squelches in, indifferent to any feeling — particularly the rising pulsing fear. The serum, loosened, oozes. It is irretrievable. The poison takes occupation, assumes its subject territory. Ejaaz clenches.... resistance the definition of fucking futility though. Like his prior uses, it’s possible to feel the liquid chill consuming his veins, spilling everywhere through his flesh, ignoring humanity. The blood’s additive pushes advancements depravedly into his body, pillaging, cold-raping, violating progressive landgrabs as it goes. Panic pushes Ejaaz’s stomach into his throat. Ejaaz prays if it would just spew from his mouth, oh, if only that would possibly carry this bottomless fucking fear and destruction from his body. “Oh AllAH. FUCK the great god Quarium!” he shouts. And then, because his brain is heavy already, he slurs, “You NASTY naStY nassttyt..... fu..fu...fuck-devil...” From the wall, he lists forward and then falls forward. The ripped trim body that is so very very hot — perfect long toned curved legs, cinched ripped waist, jockey shoulders, and rocking swimsuit-model arms, and all still new to him — languors out ravishingly as he smothers into the pillow of the thermic insulating sleeping bag prepared there. A deepening ice age gradually and progressively submerges him, annexing his sylvan flesh, his wiry, whippety torso and limbs, his blood, his bones, his genitals — all that had been obese, fetid, abhorrent just weeks ago. Unconsciousness claims him. **** Twenty hours pass. If unconsciousness cleft the ice shelf of his mind from the main and sank it in North Sea waters, the berg breaching the surface reawakens him. Insulated by foiled layers at the tunnels opening and the sleeping bag, while Ejaaz is gone from this world, his temperature and that in his crafted space dropped to below 0C/32F degrees. In the chamber, rime coats walls and ceiling and everything, even the foiled barrier. It’s a cold dark freezer of isolation — extreme to a degree far eclipsing even any previous shot. Brutally bare except for orange underwear, Ejaaz’s raw skinned body prostrates a heartbreaking, snowstormed, make-model purple corpse — hipbones and ribs and solidified sinews. He’s so abominalized he’s almost beyond aching — but he aches, aches gravitationally. Hoar glazes his skin and the cloth over his tantalizing pubes. Fog streams in and out of his ajar mouth. Invisible Kelvinic blades mutilate his striated flesh in the shoveling thousands. Daggering vectors spear viciously into his drop-dead skull. He can’t move, he’s so ice-tombed. “Noooo,” he whimpers, “enshallah, pleahhe.” Then he gathers his objections and yaps, “No” — A sound agonized and croaky struggles out because his vocal chords both harden in one position and because hour after hour of comatose screaming have sanded them raw. His sublime jaw mainly freezes open in place. Outside, the high unchallenged sun flames. Sand scorches about the foundations of al Maktoum, baked worse than a kiln. Concrete and steel footings sizzle. Four square miles of black glass horde sunlight then dazzle it back into the sky. How can it be so inhospitably hot when the nondescript concrete form hidden in the middle of it all shudders with the nihilation of outer space. In the tunnel, it is Quarium in Ejaaz that generates endothermic extremes, terraforming the concrete to match the exterior of McMurdo Antarctic Scientific Base upon a months-long night. Unabated by searing heat and injected instead of sniffed, Quarium molecules failed to bind to Ejaaz’s cell receptors, instead entering into his cells. Destiny now unfolds. If instead there were heat — i.e., baking direct Arabian sun — and if sniffed, it would be different. In that situation, Ejaaz’s cells’ receptors would have received the Quarium and bonded, then caused a cloning of cells to explode. A warm environment causes Quarium to make fleeting Shadowcells — desirable musculoskeletal replicas. They flourish in ratios of up to two dozen or more for each native cell. With sniffing and heat, before a Quarium user’s eyes, an Arab guy’s sweaty, perspiring body expands in girth and power with growth. Shadowcells in him proliferate as uncontrollably promiscuous as a nation’s worth of bare-assed bubbly-butted submariners occupying every square inch of a sirening 1960s erotic cartoon steamy island poster. The unbridledness of the cells’ replication rams guys’ growth — explodes them into objects of lust — sizeable, full, meaty, snorting, dripping things, like massive studs, like big bull cocks, like brimming djinns — full of libido and power — cut, jacked, huge. It happens in proportion to the Quarium and the thermic source and the guy. With extreme heat and Quarium molecules, any poxy loser becomes gorgeously muscular. Cells mass and magnificate him. They hyper masculinize him — the new found grodiness rages in a metamorphosed rippling gay or bi or even straight fagbeast who has hijacked all the trappings of ultra bodybuilding, porning masculinity while the baking heat persists. But the external heat always abates eventually and the circulatory system’s pace recalibrates, and the shadow cells subside upon loss of energy. So one ought understand: an inhaled administration of Quarium (misted up one’s nose) when done in great heat expands and then subsides. Orgasmic flexing swells into exquisite being, parades conquering raunchy triumphancy, narcisses and exhibits erectionally, ejaculates climaxingly, and then disappears as the dissipation and reabsorption of shadow cells unfold. Contemplate, a wimpy faggot sniffing Quarium with some loser friends in the dazzling Arab summer morning. See their unworked little bodies bulk up and grow fantastic before their lechery eyes. Imagine them narcissistically swept into the lording of the gigantic bodies they receive, ostentatiously wearing bikinis cut so low and so tight that they more than show off what they’ve drugged for themselves, that it reveals every aspect of what they have done on purpose — the hugening of their mountainous chests, bouldering of monumental shoulders, crowding of climbing backs and traps, rising of their incredible biceps, expansion of their enormous curving asses, and the unbelievably thick legs that stage behind awesomely transformed barely-clothed-over himbo dicks and balls. They earthquake their strength and vitality, oozing the enthrallment to feel such vast beef across their bodies, weighting them down, mountaining them up, widening them like the Ranhad T’maad span, arching them toward the sky from the great asses they have, planting them in the ground with their bridge truncheons of legs, expanding torsorally with monolithicality. They feel all these things for every minute of the Sun’s journey across the sky. And then shift to consider the late day sinking disappearance of the sun, the hot blast easing, the moisture-sparse air of an arid land not retaining the heat it has gained. Envision the gentle cooling from that. And, in conjunction, conjure the thought of thumping heart rates that release orgasms the kind of which these fuck-nothings would piss just to realize existed. They would spuge-detonate after eight or thirteen hours of oversized, so-bare-they’re-more-vulgar-than-naked raunchy foreplay. Afterward, their cumming-eased heart-rates back down from porn-horny pace. Understand that a diminished, fever-broken bloodflow brings less energy to cells, tires the hosts of those blood cells, has them doze, and know then that shadow cells in the temporary Mr. Olympians say goodbye. Over hours, the cells aerobate until a quarter day later, neither the Quarium, nor anything the Quarium dingle-servingly wrought in the sniff-poxy-pansies exists any longer. Individuals who for soul-joying hours ass-humped as gluttonous gargantuans, muscling more extremely than Grimes or Kai Greene or baby Forslin or Marcello, revert to exactly the fagstupid putrid nothing fucks they had been. But, that is not Ejaaz here, that is not him now. —————————
  13. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 20

    Sorry for the wait, in case you need a refresher here is Blue Pill Part 19 And without further ado I give to you Blue Pill Part 20 Although she had just fed, Sarah was hungrier than she had ever been before. The smell that hit her as soon as she opened the door to the gym was intoxicating, like pure male essence. It was the aroma of sweat and testosterone that caused her newly formed dick to harden down the leg of her short running shorts. The head of her dick just barely held within the confines of her shorts. She began to sniff the air, walking down the hallway, following the smell to where it was the strongest. This led Sarah to a heavy steel door, which she quickly pushed open to reveal an even more intense cloud of the stench that led here there from the hallway. It was so thick it was almost as if you could swim in it. Sarah felt something wet drip onto her foot and as she looked down to inspect where it came from, she saw another drop forming at the edge of her boxers. The smell had her so turned on that she was hornier than she ever remembered being before. Sarah was surprised to find the locker room was practically empty, minus the few gym bags sitting outside of their lockers. She walked up to one of the gym bags that was setting open atop the bench. She looked in and found a used jock sitting on top. Sarah reached into the gym bag and pulled out the jock. It was still warm and sweaty from the previous wearer, as if it had just been discarded. She brought the jock up to her nose, smelling the amazing aroma of sweat and testosterone with a hint of cum. Sarah stuck the jock in her mouth sucking on the sweat and cum. As she was sucking she felt a surge of strength run through her body and felt her dick pulse in her running shorts. She looked down to see that the head of her dick was now just barely peeking out of the edge of her shorts. As she was looking down at her dick, she noticed that her entire body looked pumped. She ran her hand along the shaft of her penis, earning her a glob of pre-cum once she reached the head. Hormones were racing through her brain telling her she needed to get off and soon. Sarah heard the sound of a shower turning on through the doorway at the end of the row of lockers. She headed towards the doorway with a hunger in her eyes and a raging hardon in her shorts. " Time to feed" she growled to herself... When Riley had first arrived to the gym, his gut was full and swollen with Derek's cum. He knew he needed to do something to get the size of his beach ball belly to go down and after reading the note that was left for Derek about how it would be beneficial for him to work out, he decided the best place for that would be Frank's Gym. It was always filled with meatheads and hardcore weights. Riley was in his jock and a pair of sweats he had found in the school locker room and He was wearing a t-shirt that said 'Fletcher Valley Athletic Department'. It was a little loose on him, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be that way for long. He looked out across the gym floor and found a handful of guys lifting. They ranged in size from amateur bodybuilder to Olympia sized. The biggest being Damien, he was easily a 300-pound wall of shredded beef, ready to dominate his next bodybuilding competition. He was a 6-foot-tall wall of dark chocolate and he was walking straight towards Riley. Riley began to panic. He wondered if the behemoth had seen him staring or if he was just overthinking. Jason's heart began racing faster and faster as each titanic footfall of the giant caused his meaty pecs to bounce. His massive Quads rolling over each other as they fought for space inside the weak confines of his gym shorts. Riley couldn't believe his eyes when they finally fell upon the obscene bulge in Damien's shorts. He had seen some decent sized packages in the school locker room. Chris's came to mind right away, but what was in front of him now had to be as big as Chris's cock was when it was hard, and it was completely soft. As Damien got right up next to me he leaned down to say something in my ear. His deep baritone filled my soul, as I had a hard time registering what he was saying. "Yeah, I saw you lookin. You're gonna need about another 100 pounds before you can handle what I got to give. Come find me when you do though, I'd love to fill your bowl with my cream." He stood back up to his full height and I watched his face as a huge toothy grin formed on his face as he gave me a wink. He reached down to adjust his package which Jason swore was bigger than just a moment ago. As Damien walked past Riley, He turned to watch Damien as he stared directly at Riley's ass. He seductively licked his lips as he headed into the gym locker room. To say that Riley felt on fire would be an understatement, he felt like hormones were flooding his entire being. Not only that, but his cock was rock hard. He knew he needed to focus. If what the note said was true, he needed to start lifting so he could absorb all the muscle cum that was in his belly. Riley decided to start with arms, so he headed over to a long row of dumbbells in front of a large gym mirror. He grabbed the 25's to start as a warm up and headed over to the isolation bench. As he was walking over to the bench Riley watched his arms in the mirror as the sinewy muscle lightly flexed to support the weight in his hands. He flexed his arm straight down causing a slight bulge to appear on the back of his arm from his triceps. Riley sat at the isolation bench and began doing curls. At first the weight was a little heavy, but began to get easier to lift as he did more reps. Once he had 25 reps done he switched to his other arm and began lifting again. Riley watched as veins began to surface on his arm and his goose egg of a bicep began expanding, just a little bit more with each rep. With his biceps now feeling warmed up, he brought the weight behind his head and began one armed triceps-extensions. He really had to push at the beginning to get the weight up, but as he continued it got easier and easier with each rep. Riley did 25 with each arm and stood up to take the weights back. This time as he passed himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but gawk at his reflection. His arms were pumped just from his warm-up. Riley started the work out with 15-inch arms, but they were looking much closer to the 15-inch range and this time when he flexed his arm straight down, he was rewarded with an actual horse-shoe bulge on the back of his arm. The boner that had started to go down during his lifts sprang back to life as he admired his pump in the mirror. "Fuck yeah! I'm getting pumped" Riley growled to himself in the mirror. "So fucking hot!" Riley put the weights back and walked further down the row of weights, this time picking up the 50's. Riley had never done anything heavier for isolation curls than 35. He could feel the heaviness of the weight in his hands as he headed back to the bench. Riley sat down and began pumping out rep after rep. As the weight got lighter with each rep, his arm began to bulge with some serious muscle. Veins that had appeared during his warm-up were now thickening and branching out all across his swollen bicep. The hard knot on his arm was now about the size of a baseball. Riley then continued the same process with his other arm. During this entire process Riley's raging hard on had begun leaking copious amounts of pre-cum into his jock. Knowing that he was going to have some difficulty doing single arm triceps extensions with 50 pounds, He decided to do just a regular triceps extension using both arms and the 50-pound dumbbell. It was a struggle at first, but just like with his biceps it got easier with every rep he did. Riley lost track of how many extensions he did until he realized that the weight he was using felt as light as the 25 pounders. Riley stood up to take the weight back. This time what he saw in the mirror was a complete and total surprise, the arms that he now possessed were at least 16 inches and wrapped in veins. He couldn't believe how big he was getting. The thought caused his cock to flex in his sweats, which brought his attention to a wet spot that had begun to form where the head of his dick was. Riley reached down and ran his hand along his shaft, as he flexed his cock in his hand. He continued flexing his cock in his hand, as he brought his other arm up into a flex as well. This caused his cock to react by surging in his hand, the head of his cock was now poking out of his jock and shot a wad of precum on the inside of his sweat pants. More turned on then he ever remembered being in his life, Riley headed over to the bench press and loaded the bar with weight for a warm-up. He laid under the bar and brought the weight down to graze his nipples. He then pushed the weight back up. Riley cranked out rep after rep as he began to get a pump from his warm up. Riley began losing sight of his erect nipples as his pecs began inflating with blood. Riley decided it was time to put some serious weight on the bar. He got up and loaded the bar with 300 pounds and got back under the bar. The most Riley had ever benched before this was 150 and that was a struggle. Riley felt confident this time as he lifted the bar, he slowly brought the bar down, feeling the muscle fibers in his pecs stretch and scream in pain as they were forced to lift twice as much as they ever had before. The weight finally reached his pecs and he pushed with all his might to get the weight back up. Once it was back at the top, he brought the weight back down, this time not as much resistance from his pecs. Every time Riley brought the weight down he didn't have to go as far as his pecs swelled thicker with each rep. After what felt like an eternity, Riley finally re-racked the weight and sat up on the bench. Right away Riley could tell a huge difference in his pecs, the weight of his bulbous man breasts pulled heavily on the fabric of his shirt. Riley stood to look at himself in the mirror. "OH SHIT" Riley couldn't believe how big his pecs had become. "I might have done too many bench presses." Riley realized, too late of course, that his pecs were out of proportion with the rest of his body. They almost looked like breasts if it weren't for his slight pouch of a belly he had left. Riley ran his hand up along the curve of his bulbous pec muscle and moaned out loud on the gym floor as his hand rubbed across his pert nipple. A couple of the muscle heads turned to catch a glimpse of Riley and his increasing wet spot in his sweat pants. Realizing that he needed to balance out his body, Riley headed over to the squat rack last. One of the big meat heads must have been using it last, because they didn't take their weights off the bar. The bar was loaded with 500 pounds. Riley was feeling stronger than he ever felt and his rock-hard cock told him that he could lift that fucking weight. Riley braced himself underneath the bar and went to lift the weight up when the big muscle head that had been lifting there headed over to stop Riley. "Hey bro, that weight is way too heavy for your chicken legs, how about we start you off with something a little lighter?" "I'm going to crush this weight!" Riley growled with a fire in his eyes. "Well then, I'm at least going to spot you, I would hate for you to crush yourself under my watch. Names Ben by the way, I'm the manager of Frank's gym." "Enough talk Ben, let's lift some fucking weight." Riley lifted the bar up before Ben was positioned behind him. Riley could feel Ben's hard biceps against the back of his newly minted triceps. The breath on the back of his neck made him even hornier if that was even possible. "FUUUUCCCCKKKKK" Riley moaned/yelled as he squatted down with the weight, he could feel Ben's crotch against his ass as he pushed back in the bottom of the lift, then Riley began pushing the unbelievably heavy weight back up. At the top of the lift, Riley could feel Ben's biceps tense against his triceps as he was trying to get Riley to re-rack the weight. "Great job man, I..." "Did I say I was done yet?!?" As Riley squatted down again, with Ben following him down. The legs of Riley's sweatpants were becoming increasingly tight around his ever-enlarging thighs and he could feel his ass pushing back more into Ben's crotch. Riley flexed his ass at the bottom of the squat. This elicited a moan out of his spotter as he could feel Ben's dick hardening against his rock-hard ass cheeks. Once at the top of the lift, Riley started another squat. Riley could feel the power in his legs increasing as they blew up in size. He could feel his sweat pants becoming too tight against his straining cock and his ballooning ass. Before he could stop himself from humiliation, he heard the ass of his sweats give out with a loud rip. He could feel cool air hit his hole as it was exposed between the straps of his jock. Ben felt the head of his cock through his gym shorts push past Riley's rock-hard ass cheeks to his exposed hole. Riley felt Ben's cockhead through his shorts as it pushed against his hole. Riley decided to hold the weight there for a little longer. Ben rubber the head of his cock against Riley's hole. Riley's legs strained to hold the weight, but they grew larger by the second during the strain, making it easier the longer he held it. "Fuck man, I can't. You have got a really hot ass and I have never had these feelings for another guy before. I'm straight man I'm sorry." Ben pulled his cock head back from Riley's ass and stepped back. Riley stood back up with the weight and re-racked it. Riley turned around to face Ben. He stood almost eye to eye with Ben. Ben had the most beautiful hazel eyes and short military cut hair. His face was chiseled and manly looking. He had to be about 260 pounds. He was a big boy. Riley looked down and realized that’s not all that was big on Ben. His arms and pecs were massive, but what really pulled Riley's attention is what was poking at his hole just moments ago. Riley reached down and wrapped his hand around it, massaging the head. Ben moaned loudly as he closed his eyes and rolled his head back. Riley leaned his body in against Ben's, "Wh..what are you doing?" Ben stuttered as Riley leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. Ben moaned into Riley's mouth as Riley felt Ben's cock swell in his hand as it anticipated releasing its load. Riley stepped away from Ben before he could cum. Ben's eyes were still closed in a moment of bliss."FUCK! That was so fucking hot! Why did you stop?" "You're straight remember." Riley replied with a devilish grin." Besides, I'm done with my workout. Thanks for the spot Ben. Hopefully we can lift together again." Riley gave Ben a wink as he headed for the lockers, holding the ass of his sweats together as best he could. "HEY, WAIT! I never got your name!" Ben shouted after Riley. "If you want my name you'll have to see me again to get it." Riley headed into the locker room and began taking off all his clothes. He admired the way he struggled to get his shirt up over his massive pecs. Riley moaned as the hem of the shirt snagged on his nipples. Riley removed the remains of his sweats to reveal a raging hard on he wasn't expecting. It was about a half inch bigger than he was used to and quite a bit thicker. "Well this isn't covering anything anymore." Riley said as he removed his jockstrap and set it on top of his gym bag. Riley couldn't believe how big he had gotten. He must weigh at least 190 now. He heard the locker room door open on the other side of his lockers. Riley thought it might be Ben, so he wanted to make Ben work for it a little bit, so he turned and quietly slipped into the sauna before he came around the lockers. "God I can't wait to make love to the beautiful man!"
  14. So this is a story I decided to write on a whim as an excuse to procrastinate from coursework I'm supposed to be doing that is very very loosely connected in some way to this, which is how I justified to myself wasting a couple of hours on it. In any case, I hope you enjoy it and I hope I don't offend any Potterheads on the forum (seriously, please don't execute me, I just thought the magical premise lent itself well for muscle growth stories) and instead I hope you appreciate the nods and references here and there. As always, feedback is always welcomed. HARRY POTTER & THE DRAUGHT OF VIGOUR Harry: Longbottom! Neville: Hello Harry *He says in an unamused yet friendly tone* Harry: ah it’s good to see you mate *Harry replies while patting Neville’s back* Harry: well come on, come in, it’s chilly outside isn’t it? It’s been 2 years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and former Hogwarts colleagues Harry and Neville had gone on to start the following chapter in their adult lives. They had remained friends after Hogwarts and Harry had invited Neville over for a Saturday night of eating terrible food and indulging in the stories of their lives. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Harry: hahahahaha. Neville: you don’t have to be such knob. Harry: *laughter trailing off* well you are correct that it wasn’t the nicest gesture, however, I honestly wasn’t aware that it took till the following morning for someone to find you on the common room floor. Neville: well it’s not as if I could undo Hermione’s curse on my own. Harry: at the very least that act of bravery is what won Gryffindor the House Cup during our first year, so cheers to you sir. *raises his wine glass* Neville: it does feel quite nice being acknowledged by the ‘chosen one’. *he says in a sarcastic tone* Harry: sod off. Neville: what a time to be alive though, despite the second wizarding war. Harry: a lot of things have changed, a lot of people have changed, I was taken aback when I came across Luna again the other day, she’s still quintessentially Luna though. Oh! *Harry half-jogs to another room* Neville: what are you doing? *hears rummaging* Harry: digging this out *Harry appears back in the room with a shoebox* Neville: what do you have in there? Harry: all kinds of stuff from back in Hogwarts *Harry says while sticking his arm further and further into the shoebox* Neville: where is your hand going? *Neville said, perplexed* Harry: oh this? I asked Hermione to put an extension charm on this box to store a lot of my old things. Incredibly handy, but why can’t I find those photographs? I have a couple of albums from our time at Hogwarts. Neville: maybe you have too much stuff in there, let’s take some of them out. Harry: Alright, here *Harry said as he started passing items off to Neville* After a number of things had been pulled out. Neville: okay let’s take a break, now. You really ought to clean that thing once in a while, this all can’t be absolutely necessary anymore. Harry: they are memories, some great, others torturous, but memories nonetheless. Neville: really, this is a memory worth keeping? *He says while holding up a 6th-year Herbology textbook* Did you ever even use this? Harry: I don’t believe so, it was around the time everything started falling apart. Neville: why is it so tattered already then? Harry: I’m not sure... *Harry says while taking the book from Neville and turning open the cover* ‘This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince’ *Harry read out* Neville: The Half-Blood Prince? Harry: it was Snape’s pseudonym, I used his copy of Advanced Potion-Making during my 6th year as well and it had all sorts of changes to potions and spells he developed on his own in them that improved upon the ones in the book. Neville: You arse, so that’s how you did so incredibly well in that class. You could have passed the knowledge along. Harry: well not every spell in there was for good. I am very curious to see what he came up with in Herbology however *Harry said as he started to skim through the pages of the book as Neville leaned in as well to see* Neville: wow there are so many notes written in the margins. Harry: it was the same with his Advanced Potion-Making textbook, the man was a bloody genius. Neville: ‘draught of vigour, enhances exponentially the physical strength of the person who consumes it, a single sip causes.....e..t.......opp......i....ex....t....e’ *Neville read on a page they came across while going through the book* I can’t read this part, it’s smudged. ‘...sulting in magnified male physical traits’ Harry: well I believe the rest is rather clear, I think that bit simply went into more detail as to how it happens. Neville: magnified physical traits and enhanced strength, rubbish, it sounds too good to be true. Harry: this is one of Snape’s potions though, THE Severus Snape, it must be real. Neville: how come Snape never fit the description of someone who drank this potion then? Harry: it was Snape, do you really see him walking around resembling Hercules considering his personality? Neville: you’re not wrong. Harry: it’s most likely also temporary. Neville: what makes you think that? Harry: the ingredients, I know some of them are used in brewing Polyjuice potion, and that only lasts a couple of hours. It might be a variation on a transformation potion? Neville: isn’t Polyjuice brewing restricted? Harry: I have plenty of stories to tell *Harry says with a smug look* Neville: well that’s apparent. Harry: should we try it? Neville: are you sure about this? Trust a potions recipe a random student came up with? Harry: it’s a potion Snape came up with, the potions master Severus Snape. Neville: are you sure this Half-Blood Prince character was Snape? Harry: how do you think I won that bottle of Liquid Luck back in the day? Neville: blimey Harry, that’s how you bested the mighty Hermione? Harry: I’m telling you, his notes would make Slughorn green with envy. Neville: so... enhanced strength you say.... Harry just smirked in response. Neville, luckily for Harry, excelled at Herbology, and had the ingredients at his disposal, he loved to collect samples of even the rarest plants and fungi he could get his hands on, so they locked up and made way for Neville’s apartment for a night neither is sure to forget. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Neville: leave your coat wherever you like, could you start a fire and prepare my cauldron for me? Harry: certainly *he said as he lit a fire and reached for the cauldron* Wow, an Induro 1816, this is a high-quality cast bronze cauldron, with lion head handles and custom engraving. Neville: keen eye. I inherited it from my great- great- grandparents. Catch Harry. Harry: got it *Harry said, catch the jar Neville had tossed him* Got everything we need? Neville: yes, are you sure we should do his? Harry: just imagine the possibilities. Neville: very well. And so Neville undertook to brew the potion while Harry read him the instructions and recipe: Add 4 leeches to a bubbling cauldron..... ........... ....... stir counter-clockwise exactly 55,5 times without............ Shred the...... Then pour in spoonfuls of ground tuberose until the potion turns a pale.... ..................... ....occasionally.......... ......... Add 3 drops of Mandrake sap and wave your wand to....... ........... while adding.... ...... Let boil for an hour and proceed to add a bundle of knotgrass..... .................thus allowing the mixture to............... Add a Devil’s Snare vine with...... .................... Finally, stir 6 times clockwise and twice counter-clockwise while simultaneously waving your wand until the mixture ceases to bubble and add 10 leaves from a Whomping Willow, one at a time. The resulting draught should be white in colour, having the consistency of troll mucus and an aroma reminiscent of damp mossy forest and tanned leather. Neville: *sighs out in relief* It’s finally done. Harry: *sniffs over the cauldron* What a very specific smell, mossy forest and tanned leather. Neville: I don’t have a problem with the smell as much as I do with the way it looks.... doesn’t it remind you of.... Harry: I thought best not to mention it *Harry quickly interjected* But I’m glad to hear I wasn’t the only one with it in mind. Neville: are we sure we want to try this? *Neville said with a dubious look on his face as Harry poured them both a cup of the potion they had just brewed* Harry: cheers! *Harry clanks his cup against Neville’s as they both down the concoction* Neville: wow *he coughs a bit* Harry: that’s bloody awful, it’s like a stale minge Neville started to feel the effects of the potion first, he felt a dizzy spell coming on, he struggled to breathe and felt really agitated and disoriented. At the same time Harry was starting to feel tingling all over and broke out in a cold sweat, his heart was racing, he felt as if a bout of nausea was about to overcome him. Feeling ill distracted them from noticing some of the other effects of the potion that were becoming more noticeable; their veins were engorging, becoming fatter and more prominent on their skin as main veins spread into countless branches all over their bodies. Then their hearts started to pound, harder and harder, reverberating in their heads, their veins pulsing in unison with the heart beats. Harry: fuck, fuck, FUUuUCK *Harry screamed as the growth kicked in* With each pulse through his veins, his muscles started to swell. First only a bit at a time, slowly filling his sweater, causing it to fit his body in a much more complimenting way. Then suddenly his left arm jerked into the air and starting from his deltoid down to his biceps and triceps, then finally his forearms his muscles swelled, growing twice their size in an instant, tearing the sweater sleeve apart. As the feeling rocked Harry down to his core and drool ran from his mouth in absent-minded ecstasy, the growth started to spread to his right side, his left pec, trap, neck and lat swelling bigger, and bigger with each breath until another violent jerk made them and his entire right size explode in size in a wave that raced towards his fingertips, catching up to his left arm, destroying the remaining sleeve and neck of the sweater, the leftovers falling down to the floor revealing his (currently) disproportioned body. At the same time, Neville was undergoing the same transformation, he grabbed his head with both his hands as his body pulsed and grew until his shirt and trousers were taught. Then as the growth rocked through his lower body, first through his right glute, then his quad, and finally his calf, ripping his pant leg to pieces and forcing him to lean onto his underdeveloped left leg until the growth targeted that one as well, the sudden growth on that side now causing him to lurch and collapse on to his knees, when his already muscular legs doubled in size once again, forcing him to use his hands on the floor to steady himself while his trousers left this world behind, and revealing a pair of boxers that were desperately trying to contain something very large that was growing thicker and stiffer. Harry’s growth meanwhile had started to make haste travelling downwards, his abs and obliques bulging one by one, and a deep Apollo’s belt forming on top of his hips giving him a thick and meaty core, this was followed by his glutes bulging outwards, blowing the middle seam of his jeans right open. Neville in the meantime was screaming to high heaven as the growth spread through him much more violently, rushing upwards making his entire upper body bulge in size, then again, then again, then one more time tripling in size in a wave of growth that knocked the air right out of his lungs, his upper body becoming ridiculously wide while maintaining a relatively trim waist, that spread into his massive legs when your gaze travelled further downwards. At the same time, his cock, fully erect and poking out the top of his boxer’s waistband and his oversized balls which stretched the rest of the fabric to its max, were growing with each wave of growth that rocked him as well, his cock grew purple and the veins became grotesquely engorged, and then one wave and the cock stretch longer and swelled thicker, and his balls swelled larger causing tears to come from his boxers, then again even larger, then once again, when Neville’s underwear finally gave out and he moaned in ecstasy, his cock lodging itself between his enormous pecs, eliciting an obscene moan from him as it swelled one last time becoming menacingly thick and squirting out a large glob of precum. At the sight of his ridiculously muscled and well-endowed friend arousal overcame Harry like a feral animal’s instincts, the tear in his jeans’ rear spreading towards the front of the pair of pants as his growth sped up, his cock tearing right through everything bursting forwards in all of its glory, freakishly large and as thick around as a bodybuilder’s arm, although even then not as thick as Neville’s. It smacked hard against his abdomen with a loud and wet *THWACK*, drooling precum like a river. The growth continuing down his legs, destroying what little denim had remained desperately hanging onto his frame. When it seemed as if any more stimuli would fry their young brains, the effects of the potion finally started to subside. The profuse sweating stopped, and they slowly started to regain their bearings. Neville: Christ *Neville said as he began to stand up* Harry: bugger, that was a wild ride. Neville: you can say that again.... holy shit Harry... *Neville said as the sight of his newly enhanced friend finally registered in his brain* Harry: Looks good huh? *he said as he strikes a double bicep* Although I can’t say I dislike my view. Neville: what are you talking abou.... *Neville’s words trailed off as he took in his own physique, exploring all his new glistening muscles, flexing here and there* Wow Harry: I don’t think it’s quite fair that you got to have this thing though *Harry says, lust and envy tinging his words and coming through in his eyes as he grabs Neville’s bigger cock* Neville: FUCK! Harry what the... SHIIiiiiIT *Neville tries to get out as Harry swallows his cockhead in one fell swoop, Neville instinctively pushing Harry’s head down further, forcing his monster cock down his friend’s throat with his newfound strength* yes yes yes, fuck YEAH! Harry: *cough cough cough* down boy, that thing can kill now, although I know of another hole that’s up to the challenge *Harry says as he bends down, laying his chest on the table nearby, presenting his rear to Neville* Neville without saying another word walks over and ploughs his cock into Harry’s ass down to the hilt prompting a guttural roar from Harry that quickly transitioned into a lascivious moan as Neville pulled out halfway and plough back in again this time with a tad more care into his actions. In and out, again and again and again, he rammed his massive cock into Harry. Flipping Harry halfway on to his back, Neville pulled out all the way then rapidly ploughed halfway into Harry making him grunt, he pulled out again, then rammed it in again halfway, repeating this a few more times before getting back to fucking Harry like he wanted to kill him. As he came closer and closer to his climax Neville picked up the pace and the strength with which he rammed Harry, he fucked faster and harder, and harder and harder and even harder, pushing Harry to the edge himself until they both yelled out in unison when Neville rammed him one last time, him coming into Harry and Harry shooting his load into the air where it then came down pouring like torrential rain unto them and the table. As they came down from their stupor they started to slowly shrink back. Neville: oh man, it’s not permanent? No! I wanted to stay like this. Harry: haha well then it really would be too good to be true if it were permanent. Besides, there is only so much of your animal fucking that I can take before I die. Neville: that’s not really my problem now is it *Neville said trying to be smug, his façade slipping just a bit as his cheeks blush pink* Harry: look at him, all that hot air filling your muscles went to your head? After about half an hour of slowly shrinking down, they stopped shrinking at a good 8kg (18lbs) heavier than they were prior to drinking from the draught. Harry: hmm I guess there is some carryover from the potion after all, or it just takes longer for the last bits to leave our systems. Neville: well I did enjoy being the hulking beast, but I suppose I can live with this much *he says while flexing his arm and admiring his new above-average bicep* Harry: well.... as you are aware, we did brew a whole lot of the draught of vigour, there is always more experimentation to be had, we should figure out if this amount of extra size will be left over after every use don’t you think? *Harry says in a sensible tone* Neville: as true men of the magical sciences we should be methodical shouldn’t we now? *replies Neville in the same tone* Harry: you always were a very reasonable man *says Harry as a smirk appears on his lips* -- The End --
  15. "Hulk up!" It was a very chilly cold day today as I was sitting in the small military plane in the sky, I was all alone in the huge plane and wrapped with a simple white tarp over me. I still remembered the very painful sting in my spine as the doctor pushed the syringe very deep into my spinal chord, I had worked so hard for this position as I was finally going to be a hero! It's going to be so cool to beat those commie bastards and spread freedom across the world! I could hear the announcement soon explain how I needed to jump soon, "Subject Alpha, please prepare for the jump" they announced as I would eagerly hop over to the door as they opened the door. I would look at the early morning dawn as I felt the chilly korean winds, I would soon jump over as the pilot said "Now!", I jumped as hard as I could as I only smiled out of excitement. I would fall down hundreds of meters as I transformed in the mid-air, huge intense flash covered me as new muscles and bones grew out of nowhere, the flesh would cover me entirely as new organs and genitals even formed...my Hulk's face also resembled mine's as our hairs looked similar too! My entire body would gain beautiful blue skin as the flesh itself was blue too...How lucky! Blue was my favorite color! Being sucked into the Hulk I would naturally bend down to a fetal position as huge stretches of flesh would burrow under my eyes and attach themselves into my brain, not long after I would open my new Hulk eyes and see the ground approaching, I was tasked to destroy an important communist munitions factory that looked very heavily guarded. However I would soon find myself in a dark room full of dead corpses as I saw my body was bloody and my face was bloody too..."W-What's going on?!" I said out loud with my deep voice as I looked around and tried to find a door but to no avail...I felt like the walls were falling down as they were coming closer, I tried to smash them but it didn't help out as I could begin to hear loud screaming coming from the corpses...I held my ears as I fell down to my knees and began weeping as I said "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry" with my scared tearful voice. Suddendly I woke up to loud cheering for some reason...I opened my eyes and saw the sun as well as huge crowds cheering me on as this must be a military parade, was that just a dream? who cares I just have to man up. I began to wave at the audience as I soon noticed my huge bloody hand, I tried to wipe it away but soon noticed my other hand was bloody too...in fact my whole ceremonial uniform was covered in blood as my red, white and blue skin-tight jumpsuit was covered in blood and metals. I looked at the ground and saw the entire road being covered in huge puddles of blood as bodyparts littered the flooded streets, "Please welcome our special hero! ALPHA HULK!" I heard a loud cheery announcer say as the audience only clapped harder and began tossing flowers at me, "NO!..I-I'm not a hero!" I tried to shout as I noticed my legs and arms had been tied to chains, "Alpha Hulk! you are our eternal hero!" I could hear the announcer say as I stood on top of a small bloody and rusted stage that seemed to move on itself. I would begin to tear up as I began to see the audience being replaced by dead soldiers as the sunny sky was being replaced by bloody red crowds...the normal suburbia turned into a battlefield as I heard the screams of thousands of soldiers "MONSTER!", "BEAST", "DEVIL"...while also hearing the announcer say "HERO!", "SAVIOR", "ANGEL!". "NO!...I'M NOT A HERO, PLEASE LET ME OUT!" I said as I began to cry and tried to pull my human self out of this Hulk, soon enough I could wake up in a small flesh bubble as my entire body was covered with the Hulk flesh with my eyes being connected to the walls through huge pieces of Hulk flesh that were attached under my eyes. "Let me out!" I tried to scream as the blue fleshy walls would approach closer and closer before suffocating me... "AAH!" I said out loud as I found myself in my room once again, I sat on my bed naked as I looked at my arms and wiped my sweaty forehead..."I-It was just a dream...I-I gotta man up" I said as I would hazily walk over to my small private bathroom and stare into my mirror...into my blue Hulk marks, huge pecs and abs I have gained, I still remembered the day when I became a Hulk...the intense sting in my spinal chord, I didn't even read the contract as I was just a stupid kid back in the day...god I was so stupid. I looked into the mirror and jumped back as I saw my face being briefly that of my Hulk forms...grinning and smirking at me with it's bloody mouth, "Calm down it's just a dream...it's just a dream" I reminded myself as my face returned to normal, I would open my small medicine cabinet and take a few bottles of pills, quickly taking few anti-depressants as well as few benzos too before sitting down on the bathroom floor. I sat there for few hours before noticing the sun rise as I quickly began to make my bed and just forgetting about my dream, I would put on my normal human army uniform as I would have to inform the rest of the Hulks, "Wake up everyone!" I yelled out as I was responsible of the rest of the team. I was still tired due to those nightmares but I just had to man up...I was a soldier after all! (Hope you like my second chapter!)
  16. Hey guys, it was my second try to write something, because I absolutely love this site and I want to be part of it. I wrote this story very fast so maybe I made some mistakes here and there so excuse me for them. I hope its not too short. My idea is to make it into a series, but its just a plan for now. Enjoy, and let me know, If I should continue. I hope nobody is here-thought Billy as he walked in the team’s locker room Monday Billy was a scrawny little nerd and most of the time he got picked on by the rugby team. He couldn’t do anything at all because the members of the rugby teams were huge guys. Huge is not even the best word, humongous throbbing muscle guys. They were close to pro bodybuilders; the gym was their territory. Other schools always tried to keep up with them but it was impossible. So Billy just tried to live through high school, but the rugby dudes always bullied him. He was bullied because of his nerd Star Wars t-shirts, glasses and shyness. In the afternoon, he was walking down the hallway when one of the big guys, Zero, pushed him and as he lost his balance, the new Hulk comic just fell out his bag. -Oh look, scrawny little Billy is into big green guys, such a little pussy. -Said Zero as he took a quick look at the comic -Give me back. -Shout Billy and tried to take it back -Oh no no little guy, I'm keeping this. You don’t need some magazine about big jacked guys. U can always worship me. - Zero flexed his big chest and put on a double bicep pose. Unfortunately, his t-shirt couldn’t bear the pressure and it ripped, revealing his chiseled abs.-OOPPSS, looks like u got a free show pussyboy.- -Zero, please give me back the comic, I didn’t do anything. - Billy was close to tearing up. -Maybe I will tomorrow, -he grinned- after I cleaned up my jizz with it. - and walked away laughing. Billy was extremely sad, he just bought that fresh comic and Hulk was his favorite superhero. Hulk was big, powerful, an alpha, everything what Billy isn’t. Billy sometimes dreamed about waking up one day and being able to transform into a big powerful muscle God and show his bullies the way. But it's impossible. Billy walked to his locker and changed books, put on his jacket and started to walk out from the building, when suddenly his only friend Mark stopped him. -I heard what happened Billy, I'm so sorry. You can borrow mine if u want? -Smiled at him Mark with his crooked teeth. -Thanks Mark but I just buy another one. -Billy looked at him with a sad smile. -Well...you don’t know from me, but Zero put your issue in his locker. -He did what!? Oh my God it will smell awful. -But today the team will go and practice on the big court so you could go and took it back. Zero is pretty dumb, he won't even notice that it disappeared and the big court is 20 minutes from here so you have plenty of time. - explained the plan Mark. -Mark, thank you. See u tomorrow. -Smiled at him Billy and started running. The plan was easy, he goes home, puts down his stuff and comes back later tonight. It was the easiest plan ever. So Billy slowly walked home, put down his stuff and went up in his room. Billy’s room was the nerdiest room ever. Marvel posters on the wall, card and little figures everywhere. Even his computer was full of with comic content. But in one secret folder he hid videos about bodybuilders and big guys jerk off. He took a quick look if somebody tried to find them, but nothing. Later that day -I hope nobody is here.-thought Billy as he walked in the team’s locker room. The room was filled with the smell of sweat and jizz. Billy immediately got a little hard on. -OH COME ON, NOT RIGHT NOW. - screamed in his head. The lockers were all the same, old white iron lockers but each and every one had a name on it. Billy was scrolling down the hallway with his eyes trying to find the name. Dan, Derek,…....Harry,…..Liam,.....Peter,......ZERO. Billy stepped closer to the locker. -Geeee......should I open it? But what if Zero finds me and beats me up? Ohhh...let's do it! - The lock slowly opened and the door just opened itself. -Oh wow.-Billy’s mouth just dropped. The locker was full of dirty jockstraps, hoodies, rugby gear and next to a little bottle, there was his book. -Okay, it was easy, I take it and just leave. Billy slowly pulled out the book, but the little bottle almost fell down with it so he dropped the book and jumped for the bottle. Fortunately, he got it. -Uhhh I almost fucked it up, what is it anyways? - He read the paper on it, “ONE DROP IN EVERY YEAR”. -Drugs? Steroids? Maybe the whole team is on some kind of illegal supplement? Billy was on the way to put the bottle back, but a little feeling came over him. So he held the bottle and asked himself. -Do I want to try it or just leave it there? Maybe this could help...hmmmm....well, we live once soo.- with that power Billy opened the bottle and drink 2 big drop. -Hmm...it has a nice taste...but I feel nothing. - Billy put the bottle on the bench and looked at his phone, okay still 10 minutes to leave. But suddenly Billy felt dizzy. -Okay, now I feel something, aghhhhhhhh.-Billy felt pain in his chest and he saw it slowly growing and pulsing in his S sized t-shirt. *RIIIIIPPPPPP* the t-shirt teared apart and his chest just kept growing but with veins on it. Now he felt the pain in his back, his back slowly started to expand to a huge perfect V shape, -OHHH GOOOD WHATS HAPPENING????- Billy screamed and he grew taller, now he was 7 feet.-OHHH ohhhh this is niceeeeee- as the feeling became pleasure and realized that he is becoming a real life Hulk. His calves and thighs grew and became huge almost the size of 2 tree trunk. -OHHHH NOW MY SHOULDERSSSSSS- Billy shoulders blew up with muscles.-MOOREE MORRREEEEEE-screamed and his abs became visible then 2,6, an 8-pack appeared. His clothes completely ripped apart. Now he stood at 7 feet, with muscles of Hulk, in a tiny boxer. -Oh my God, ohmygod my voice. - his voice was now deep and pleasuring to hear. -IM A MUSCLE GODDDDDD, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT.- Billy ran to the mirror and put on a hell of a flex show.-I look hot but I think my dick didn’t grew. - when Billy said it, he felt a deep pain on his bulge that became pleasure as his dick started become longer and longer and longer. His balls grew to be golf balls then tennis balls then huge oranges. The boxer now was unusable, the penis of his stood now 15 inch long. -Zero found his competition. - grinned Billy and jerked his cock slowly and watched himself flexing in the mirror, he did a double biceps pose and some other pro poses. But he got scared when he heard a noise from the hallway. -Guys we crushed it today, we were unstoppable- said the team not so far away. -I need to disappear-. Billy quickly put on a used jockstrap from Zero’s locker and another used dirty t-shirt and started running to the door in the back, but before leaving he took the bottle and the book. Billy was walking home now as a real alpha thinking about the future and the potential use of the bottle.....
  17. Muscle Fog Ogre’s Gift Chapter 1 part Eight By Big-Zargo The Last Wizards Ass Logan and his companions ran all through the night as a tidal wave of fog slowly crept up on them swallowing them up one by one. Their protections breaking as the fog magic consumes them. Their bodies quickly grow in height and muscle; There skin turns darker or becomes a shade of orange as it thickens, as body hair begins to grow allover. There cocks and ball grew extremely large but proportional to the new 10 feet tall bodies and finally their minds begin to change as they shoot the last of their humanity from their ogre size cock. The hunted becomes the hunter in this sick game of tag; they to grab new victims and drag them into the fog to transform as well, all in accordance with Owen’s will. Logan panted as he was making his way to the gate. His middle-aged body was not handling the journey well. He needed to warn the Wizards counsel of Owens escape. He needed to get help for these poor people who had lost their humanity, to that creature. He had no idea what Owen was planning in the grand scheme of things, but it was probably not good. He could literally feel the tainted magic push against his own trying to get into his body and corrupted. He grabbed at his cock moaning as pleasure ran through it. With his strong will he stopped touching his cock. “If I stay here any longer, I’ll eventually transform into a horny ogre” he thought to himself. Logan’s eyes got wider as burgeoning hope blossoms in his chest. To the eyes of any mortal the gates look like two tall trees in a clearing, it probably looks a little strange and weird to normal people, but to anyone who can use magic and have the knowledge about it, can use it to fast travel to another gate. “The gate at last,” Logan says out loud while moving his hand across his uncut shoulder length brown hair. As he walks closer to his salvation a voice calls out. “How does it feel to be so close and yet so far away. How does it feel wizard to be the last human in this small, lonely town?” Deep As the mountain, smooth as the wind; the voice came, Power laces every word and through the fog parting for its master Owen appears like a haunted ship through the sea. No tremors no feel of weight only a shadow slowly solidifying coming into focus as he crosses the path for Logan blocking him from the gate and his hope of escaping. The fog parts to reveal a mountain of a beast. Thick skin like leather, but fair as any maiden’s, orange like the sun, hairy as a bear, a huge fat cock, and hairy balls the size of huge grapefruit in-between size bigger than tree trunks attached to thick calves and big feet. A big round belly firm as a bolder with big pillow size pecs on a huge barrel chest twice as wide as a human, mountain-like shoulders with arms so big that a skinny man could hide in them. Brown intelligent eyes underneath hairy eyebrows on a brutish but fair chiseled face with a black fluffy mustache under a big round nose and to sideburns link to his shaved head and smooth square like chin. “Speechless wizard, or is it that you are surprised to see me? A course introduction is an ogre my name is his Owen, and I am in demigod of magic, fog, mists, clouds, illusions, transformations and alterations.” He says while giving him a malicious grin. “So, you’ve come for me,” Logan asked? “Yes, I have, but I’m not cruel, and I am willing to let you go if you relinquish your guardianship of my bindings,” Owen says while holding his hand out in an open Palm. “What will you do with the people you have turned into ogres will you let them go,” Logan asked? “They are my children now I will protect them, and I will not let them go,” Owen calmly says with finality. Logan looks into Owen’s eyes and knows that there would be no argument on the matter. Logan is not sure if he should trust Owen, every time he looks at the big sexy beast, his cock twitches in pleasure. it seems that Owen is exuding a corrupting force that is influencing him. His offer can be a trap; he cannot take that chance if it is so. “I will not give up my guardianship, I can’t trust you to keep your word.” Logan answers. “Then you have chosen battle. If you put up a good fight then I will not turn you into a toilet,” Owen says. Logan starts the fight by making a fireball and throwing it straight at Owen; In response to the attack, a hand shoots out from the fog form from its very essence and catches it, smothering it like fire drowning in water. “Good old reliable fireball it is such a shame that it is such a common spell for wizards, you would think I wouldn’t have found a way to counter that spell,” Owen says sarcastically while moving his head side to side. “Tsk… tsk …tsk.” Logan forms and throws a fireball once more against Owen. As the fog intercepts it spells changes becoming a big flash of light, blinding Owen temporarily. Logan quickly teleports for a short distance away behind a tree, in hopes that Owen would not be able to find him, but the mist surrounds him quickly condenses into the fog as it slowly circles him. “Clever but not good enough. You have gone up from becoming an inanimate toilet to a living toilet you’ll be drinking piss of my ogres for all eternity,” Owen says with a grin. With a clap of Logan’s two-hand, some of the fog parts as a wave of air pushes it. Owen turns around only to get a firebolt to the face momentarily re-blinding him. “Baaa. Cheap parlor tricks won’t save you,” he says as his slowly sight returns to him. Using the distraction to his advantage Logan teleports again. If he did not do anything decisive to win this battle quickly, he would eventually run out of energy and he needs a certain amount of energy to open the gate. This is the point where Logan will have to pull out all the stops if he wants to have a chance to win this fight. Beginning with a bolt of lightning that strikes through Owen’s defenses with its speed and strength. Owen’s roar of pain quickly stops as his muscles lock into place. Continuing with his on-slot Logan switches out lightning for ice shards, shooting his deadly projectiles against Owen’s skin before switching back to lightning because ice shards were not very effective against Owen’s thick skin. Logan keeps moving back and back slowly making his way towards the gate as he shot out lightning after lightning hoping to do lasting damage. Owen begins adapting to Logan’s lightning by redirecting it towards the ground as he starts moving closer towards Logan. With one last lightning bolt, Logan begins to gather his strength; if he can keep on slot going, he would a chance to escape. Wind and lightning form in each hand as he combines them both forming a huge electrical tornado that starts sucking up all the fog nearby leaving the forest temporarily clear from Owen’s influence. Wishing for more time Logan blasts Owen with his attack, knowing that the longer the battle got the more likely it that Owen will adapt to his attacks and overwhelm him with his brute strength. Owen stood his ground for a few seconds before being pushed away by the attack and being knocked on his ass. Logan quickly uses one last teleport to get close as possible to the gate, its mystical properties preventing him from teleporting even closer. With great wisdom and caution Logan starts magically checking for any last-minute traps from Owen. There were a few traps he can see but he quickly got past them on his way to the gate. Before getting any closer to his goal Logan heard whistling as three darts pierce his neck. Grabbing the foreign objects from his neck he discovers three sleeping darts. Logan starts to panic as he falls onto the ground as everything starts fading to black. Logan opens his eyes to find himself in a cave that he recognizes, Owens’s prison underneath Mrs. Parsley’s house. He tries moving his hands only to find them being stopped by some force of magic. A shadow lingers before him blocking the light of the eerily blue flame; Owens’s form appears before him company with his giant sausage-size cock. “Don’t bother speaking wizard, I have you magically silenced. The wizards’ counsel will not know what will happen here, not for a long time anyway, I have made sure of it. Richard shall be reunited with his son soon,” Owen says with a wicked smile. Owen places his big hand on top of Logan’s belly as Owen began pouring power into him. Owen takes his time pouring power into Logan’s body. Logan silently screams in both pain and pleasure as the power slowly spreads through him. Days, weeks, or months of simmering in corrupting magic, all pass in a blur for Logan as he slowly succumbs to Owen’s corrupting power. In and out of consciousness Logan’s body slowly betrays him as his cock becomes painfully hard while it slowly grows and swells with Ogreish girth. Logan is not sure if he is awake or asleep, all he knows is that the voices telling him to submit are getting harder to resist. Sexual Thoughts of beautiful women slowly twist into big hairy men. As he begins moving his hips back and forth in a daze of sexual pleasure. As his swelling balls are demanding attention, and he decides to give it what it wants. No longer shackled by the altars’ magic, Logan grabs his huge fat hard cock and begins rubbing it. Waves of pleasure pass through him as he masturbates; as he squeezes his needy balls, he begins to leak out his humanity through his seed. As he continues his masturbation a huge cock appears before his head casting a shadow on. “F…Fu…. Fuck Ow F…Fu…Fuck me please,” Logan begs as slobber leaks from his lips his nearly vacant eyes looking at Owen. “Partake of my dick and offer your ass to me,” Owen says. Logan leaps upon Owen’s monstrous cock and begins licking at the tip of it. he closes his eyes as he savors the taste of Owen’s cock and the smell of his musk. His leaking cock twitches as he moves towards the shaft of the monster’s cock, at it is so big he cannot swallow it all. He Takes his jolly time as he slowly licks his way to the balls of the beast. One more minute Owen thinks to himself soon Logan will be ready, I can feel the power building up inside. “ooooooowww…...” Owen moans out loud interrupting his thoughts as Logan found the sweet spot while licking and sucking at his balls. Logan’s body begins to shake and tremble with a powerful need for a Big Cock in his ass. Owens’s sensing Logan’s hunger lifts him onto the altar with his Ass facing the heavens, as Owen begins licking it. A Moan quickly turns to a fuck! as Logan comes, shooting out more of his precious humanity through his big fat cock as his skin slowly turns more orange. Owen growls in annoyance and smacks Logan’s ass for coming too soon. Logan cries out in both pain and pleasure from the attack and cries out even louder when Owen stuffs his huge ogre size cock into Logan’s human virgin ass hole. Logan roars like a beast, his canines sharpen, as his ass is being destroyed by Owens’s monster of a cock. Owen starts moving his hips back and forth slowly picking up speed as time passes on. Each thrust from Owen slowly ravages Logan’s internal organs, the Ogreish magic keeping him alive throughout the process. With the roar, Owen came inside of Logan’s destroyed body, bones, muscles, and internal organs mending and changing. Owen took a breath letting the magic heal Logan’s changing body before resuming the fucking. Each re-fucking Logan’s body became bigger and stronger, skin darkening until it became tan-orange color, each timeless and less human cum came out of his orgasm. His body shakes with power as Owen gave one last thrust into Logan’s ass before coming one last time. Logan’s bodybuilder size body explodes with growth and muscles. As his brown hair slowly turns gray while spreading across his body as head hair falls off and his beard grows long. Arms and legs grow massive with huge muscles as they stretch out to compensate for his new Ogreish size. His cock grows into 2 feet long fuck monster as his big ass grows even more until they are like two basketballs trying to break free from his tree trunk size thighs. His waist widens and his belly grows big, round, and jolly muscle gut with white hair peppering it. His chest size quickly swelling and tell it like a barrel, his big hairy pecs grow even further until they are like to condense pillows with big plump nipples the are begging to be squeezed and suckled. Logan’s facial features change becoming more caveman-like as his eyebrow ridges became more pronounced and his eyebrows became thicker and hairier. His eyes turn gray glowing with an ephemeral glow as His nose grew rounder and a little bit redder. Getting up from the altar with his big baseball mitt size hands and slamming the ground with his big feet, he begins to flex his huge biceps. “Fuck Yeah!” Logan says while lightning starts flying around his human head-size biceps. “That’s the Fucking Power!” Logan felt too huge hands around his hairy boulder-like shoulders and looks around to see his master Owen behind him massaging his heavily muscular back. “That’s the spirit my battle mage. Now that all the Guardians are dead or corrupted, I am free to travel the Eons to spreading my gift and gaining more power,” Owen says. Logan turns his face around and smiles. “I am ready to serve you, master,” Logan says. The end of chapter 1 Epilogue A year later on a bright summer’s day two agents in black suits each having a different color tie, knock on a blue door. It is open by a huge man who is panting and sweating his huge hairy chest shines on his half-naked body. The smell of sex permeates the huge man. “Hello there. What can I help you with, Gentleman?” The huge man says. “We would like to ask a couple of questions of you,” one man in a black suit says whose tie is red. “May we come inside?” the other man asks, whose tie is blue. “Come on in,” the huge man says while opening the door wider for his guests to come through. All three men get comfortable in the living room of the huge man’s house. “I think the introduction is in order, you may call me Mr. Red,” the man with the red tie says. “You may also call me Mr. Blue,” the man with the blue tie says. “My name is Pete. I’m sorry for looking so disgruntled, I was just in the middle of some hard work,” The huge man says. Mr. Red and blue look at Pete through their sunglasses on the twin-looking faces. “I shall go first.” Mr. Red says. “You were living at Holmes top borough between…./…/… and …/…./…. date, right?” “Yeah, what of it,” Pete says? “Are you aware that the town was overrun by some sorcery,” Mr. red asked? Yeah, I heard the rumors,” Pete said “why do you ask? It has come to our attention that you move out the town the two weeks before the mysterious fog appeared.” Mr. Blue said. “Thank god, I was able to get out of there in time,” Pete says. “Indeed,” both Mr. Red and blue say in unison. Mr. blue takes something out of his pocket and speaks. “Look Pete’s I think you’re a nice guy, but I have to give you a C….” “Is there a problem Pete,” says the deep voice. A huge Ogreish cock moves in between Mr. red and blue, caring a powerful musk with it. Both men’s eyes widen underneath their sunglasses as both men start drooling as their cocks became erect. “Thanks for the help, at least I now have plausible deniability now,” Pete says. “No problem Pete. What are we going to do with these agents of the Wizards Council,” the ogre asks? “I don’t know. I guess we can hand them over to Owen. His hunger for spell-casters is quite deep,” says with a grin.
  18. Here we follow the transformation of Subject 0, from an average guy to a sublime soldier. I am not the best illustrator and I’m aware of that, but I want to use the best of my abilities to, step by step, portray this transformation, one that is repeated throughout my stories. I will start here and continue on the comments. 1-Infection: On this stage the transformation sets in, the pain is excruciating, the muscles grow slow, most of the action is held on the blood, where the formula spreads and reproduces itself, indeed infecting the whole body;
  19. Muscle fog ogre’s gift Chapter 1, part 7 By Big-Zargo House Trap The blue sky was clear, and the sun light was shining upon the land of Holmes top borough dispelling the curse of fog that had ensnared it. In a neighborhood full of empty houses three men are making their way towards an empty looking house, hoping to hide from the ogres. With The fog gone the ogre are in high alert their patrols to be increased to discourage from trying to run out of Holmes top borough. Most of humans seek to leave the town heading towards the woods believing it to be their salvation, but Owen knows where the people are running to, and he has a surprise for them. The door opened slowly and quietly as three men enter the seemingly vacant house. sunlight was passing through the windows bringing light to the dim house revealing a living room and kitchen attached to it, in a twilight of light and shadows. It both smell stale and sweet and had a layer of dust everywhere. Martin was the first one to enter the house checking to see if it was clear; not being complacent like the groups last leader who led most of the men in his charge into becoming ogres. Martin was the skinniest of the group, his live pale skin and short blonde hair giving people the impression he had Nordic ancestry. Cluster was the second coming his bulky fat, short black curly hair and dark brown skin was a sharp contrast to martin, and finally there was Darian whose heavily build olive skin body pass through the door. Sweat had spilled all over his own skin body creating wet spots on his T shirt. Cluster quickly sat placing his fat ass onto the dust covered couch and remove his backpack placing it on the ground next to his leg for quick reach in case of an emergency, before yawning in exhaustion. “You shouldn’t get too comfortable Cluster; we rest here for an hour or two. The sun has cleared most of the fog from the town. We cannot let this opportunity go to waste. Most of the people who have been transformed into ogres are dumb and horny; they’ll soon move on, when they get bored or they begin to start fucking each other giving us the opportunity to pass through them,” Darian said. “I know Darian, it will just take us four more hours to reach the forest and another day in theory to reach the gate,” Cluster said with exhaustion tinting his voice. “Hey guys I found a glass of brandy and it hasn’t been opened,” Martin said with excitement. Both men turned around to see Martin holding the glass of brandy it’s golden amber colored content clear to see through its glass container. All three men had gathered into the kitchen next to the counter. Each man mouth had begun to moisten at the sight of the brandy. Darian quickly finds 3 empty cups in the kitchen cabinets. He places the surprisingly clean cups on the kitchen counter, while Martin opens the bottle of brandy. With a clicking sound coming from the glass bottle the smell of apple brandy permeates the air. The three men all close their eyes letting nostalgic memories pass through their heads as the sweet smell of the apple flavored alcohol permeates the air. Cluster eyebrows narrow for a moment before saying. “Our luck can’t be this good. Maybe we should not drink it,” he says with concern. “Don’t worry about it, Cluster. You’re just being paranoid. How would the dumb horny brutes be able to open the bottle with their big burly hands, let along be able to close without one of us noticing it.” Martin says with belief in his words. “Look Cluster, we do not have all day for you to decide if you’re going to have some brandy with us or not. This is a delicacy that should not go to waste,” Darian says. Martin begins filling the cups with Apple flavored brandy. Before anyone could drink Cluster says. “Martin if you believe that brandy is safe to drink then you should go first.” “I think I will,” Martin says with a smile. With that statement all three men say their cheers as they clink their cups together. Martin took the first sip when nothing happened the others begin drinking their glass. “Thank god,” Darian says with pleasure. Days of drinking water had made the taste of the apple brandy like nectar, like a gift from God. “Poor me another one,” Darian says. All 3 cups were refilled and emptied again as time passed eventually finishing off the apple brandy. Each of the three men had faces of contentment as they finished drinking the apple brandy. “It’s been so long since I have some brandy. I wish we had some ice to cool it down,” Darian said with longing for a cool drink. With their thirst satisfied they began checking and clearing out the rooms of the house for anything useful to them; They had suddenly found themselves back on the first floor, drinking apple brandy again. “Didn’t we already have some apple brandy,” Darian says, while looking confused. “I…I think we did not,” Martin says well looking confused. “Something is not right here, this seems disturbingly familiar,” Cluster says before eating an apple. “Where did you get the apple, Cluster,” Darian asked? With a nonchalant shrug, he points at a basket on one of the counters tops. This basket is filled with different types of fruits and berries like bananas, apples, blueberries, cherries, strawberries and pineapples. The Three men begin devouring the fruits in the basket like starving animals. As they did so their bellies start swelling out specially for Darian and Martin whose bellies became more pronounced. “I…I think something’s wrong. I’m still hungry and…and I want more,” Darian says while rubbing his belly. Suddenly they hear the back door opening and see a huge ogre making his way in. “Come young cubs your dinner is ready,” the mysterious ogre says. This huge ogre was wearing a white apron, had woodish brown skin covered in a peppering green hair, with long hair on his head and a short goats beard, green eyes and the usual Ogreish features like big round nose, strong square jaw, a pronounced eyebrow ridge on a cave man like face, big round nipples, a 9 feet to a 11 feet tall body, complemented with a wide body barrel chest, huge muscular limbs, with big feet and huge hands big enough to grab a whole man’s face and cover it. At first all three men had scared looks on their faces; there in front of them was an ogre. “What the Fu….” All three men said before their eyes came blank. There, Perception of the world changed for the three men. A clever illusion was placed on all three men. Gone was the living nightmare they were in, instead a nostalgic dream. It was if they are all kids again and their big strong daddy was going to protect them from the world. “Aren’t you guys hungry? we have grilled food in the back your,” the green haired ogre says. In a daze all three of them nods their heads in response and speaks “Yes, sir daddy” Each man walks into the backyard of the house and quickly sits down on the grass. The green haired ogre hands out plates full of fruits and vegetables to the three men. Unnoticed by the three men but known by the green haired ogre were two big-bellied ogres’ butt naked sleeping on the ground. With a yawn the two ogres began to wake up and get up. One was dark skinned with black curly hair while the other one was pale orange with red hair. Their big bellies jiggled as they got up. When they got up on their two big feet that is when their big bellies began to rumble, like deflating balloon their bellies began to recede, both ogres belching out air through their mouths as their bellies began to recede. When the black-haired ogre belly receded, it revealed that he had abs under his once big belly. While the red-haired ogre on the other hand had a muscle gut when his big belly receded. The ogres had the glazed look of those who were recently turned, as they stood there waiting for commands from the variance ogre with the green hair. “Good, you guys are awake. go into the basement and get Oz. We have three more people to turn,” the green haired ogre says. The two ogres quickly obey, heading into the house to finish their task. Green haired ogre smiles as is the three men have already started eating the food he gave them. Before the ogres very eyes the men belly begins spending and two out of the three were now rocking jelly bellies while the other one already big belly became more pronounced. “What’s going on here? Why do I feel so full and yeah I feel so hungry?” Cluster moans out. Looking at the clean plate the green haired ogre says. “That was fast. You really must be the pig of your group.” Cluster turns his head around and spots the green haired ogre. He tries to scream but what comes out is a moan of pleasure. “Don’t bother, it’s too late you’ve already had some of our food and now that you done with your first plate it’s now time for second,” the green haired ogre says with a grin. He quickly pulls out another plate full of exotic fruits and vegetables of the Ogreish variety from a ridiculously big box. It didn’t take long for the other two men to break out of their trans. All three trying to get up and run away only to find out that they cannot because their bodies will not get up from the ground. They can move their arms and they can move their legs, but they can’t let off the ground and neither can they crawl away. “They must be really hungry to eat your food so fast. Bacopa,” Oz says with smile. Oz was standing next to the sliding door with the two other ogres behind him. Oz had a white pale skin for an ogre, baby blue eyes that would make the men and women swoon, long curly pink hair with pink body hair peppering his body, a sweet-smelling body odor and the usual Ogreish features. “I wonder if they’ll be thirsty after they are done eating,” Oz asked with a smile. “I believe if there anything like last the two men they’ll be insatiable. I hope you’re up to the task milk maker,” Bacopa says with a smile. Oz’s face turns into a grimace as he says. “I’m tired of making milk.” He says while rubbing his huge pecs. “But don’t worry I found the way to make some more without milking myself dry. Bacopa hand me the two Hydro pills. There is a cool trick I want to show you.” With the confuse face Bacopa switched out plate he was holding for a big pill bottle. Oz made a full jester before saying. “Okay let me show you, my trick. As you know one of my powers are that I can make supernatural milk from my pecs, and I recently discovered that I could make other ogres do the same. I love humans and ogres sucking on my nipples, but I can’t do this all day, I eventually get tired, and my nipples become sore.” Oz turns around placing his hands on the pecs the two ogres behind him. He starts rubbing his hands over the two ogre’s pecs, both ogres starting moan as pink light makes contact. When the two ogres start becoming aroused, he stops and remove his hands from their pecs. “Now hand me the two pills,” Oz says. Bacopa quickly gave Oz the pills so that he can feed the two ogres then. Both mindless ogres swallowing the pills that Oz had gave them. “Now watch,” Oz said with a grin. Before their very eyes two erect ogre’s pecs begin expanding and swelling, both ogres moaning as the process was happening. The two ogre’s pecs had triple in size. “Damn that’s awesome did you give them a flavor,” Bacopa asked? “For this demonstration no, but we can try on the new three recruits for tomorrows entertainment,” Oz said with a grin. Each of the two variants ogres grabs a bunch of oversize cups and with the flick of each swollen nipples from the two mindless ogres, milk begin to lactate out of their nipples like soda coming out of a dispenser; placing each filled up cup back onto the bench. Now happy with the number of beverages they had the two ogres began grabbing a bunch of magical plates and placing food on it. “Are you guys preparing food without me how rude of you,” a voice says coming from the door of the backyard. “Nick,” both variants’ ogres yell out in excitement.” “What is Fucking adapt doing out here,” Bacopa asked? “Well, my job here is done. By midnight, all humans left in the town will transform into ogres, Like a silent nuclear explosion. By the time that wizard find out we’ve done it be too late he will have no more allies to turn to and if were even lucky still be caught by the spell’s radius, crippling him at worst and totally transforming at best. Who do we have here three more humans?” Nick says. Jack walked into the backyard. He had the usual Ogreish features in skin color. He had black hair shaved into a mohawk and a mutton chops that were connected to his mustache, Gorgeous Amber eyes, and had tattoos circling around his wrists and feet like shackles and he moved his body with swagger like he was owning the place. Jack looks at the two variants’ ogres and asks. “What are you guys planning?” “Well, we were going to place the food in front of them and just watch them eat and fat up before the change,” Bacopa says. “Magically infused food and drink are more energy-efficient for Lord Owen at this time,” Oz says. “Is that so,” Jack replied. “Interesting I know right. Now come closer and let me explain my plan. It’s going to make your mouth water. The three ogres quickly huddled up, has Oz explains the plan to them. The three conscious ogres begin huddling around the three humans, bringing plates of food and drinks. “Look at these pesky human clothes, let’s us remove these,” Oz says with a smile. Is ogres strips their human partners before laying there by his next to them, making humans look like small children to them while they were sitting lap, ass next to hard ogre cocks. The humans moan at the contact with the ogres. “You guys can make a show of fucking for us.” Bacopa says. With those words that to the standing ogres begin fucking. As the three men watch the two ogres start fucking, their cocks became hard as steel. Resisting the temptation to eat the curse Ogreish food was the hardest thing the humans have ever done. “We neeeedd to resiiists the ogres. Wwwee need to escape.” Darrian says. “I eat, I grow big and strong. I eat, I grow big and strong. I eat, I grow big and strong,” Martin says in between bites of food. In front of the two men’s eyes, Martin’s skinny body minus his new jelly belly that is now starting to grow. Each bite and each sip of his drink causing him to grow with fat starting with his belly. Within three minute the ones skinny twig became a round fat plump. When his plate became empty, still wanting more the magic plate refills itself, to fulfill its owner’s gluttonous desires. Three more times the two men watch this cycle, each time Martin became more faster each time hair grew on his fat body. Hair became more wilder and longer as his fat body grew body hair allover starting out as stubble than before long becoming carpet like. His fat clean-shaven chin slowly grew a bushy beard. The two men watching this scene have been slowly eating the Ogreish food and have been becoming fat as well. “This one is eager,” Jack says while playfully smacking Martin’s ass. Martin was now so fat he could not walk, was now ready for Jack’s big cock. “Are you ready to become an ogre, are you ready for my cock,” Jack asked Martin. “Me become ogre. Me want cock,” Martin says in a slow and dumb voice. first Jack starts rubbing Martin’s whole with his cock before plunging it in; causing moans to come from both human and ogre as their rough sex begin, backwards and forwards with each thrust causing Martin’s skin to start turning orange. Starting from his fat ass, the orange quickly spread across his body, turning semi smooth pinkish human skin into rough leathery orange colored ogre skin. Jack can feel the human taking his cock, so close to transcending into an ogre, that he can smell the Ogreish musk on him. With every thrust the human’s ass felt more firmer and tighter. Martin’s cock and balls having been grown twice its size and now beginning to finally seep the last of his human seed. A building pressure and his huge balls made him moan as he begins shaking. The fat all over Martin’s body begins deflating and is quickly replaces with muscle as he starts growing taller. His Shoulders grow out words as much he grew taller. His chest grew into the size of a barrel. His abs grew even with a layer of fat on his hairy stomach. Pecs growing so big that the fat nipples were pointing downwards. Arms and legs grew into the size of huge tree trunks huge hands and feet to go with it. Martin’s facial features quickly succumb to the Ogreish transformation, gaining their facial features in the process. With a final roar from Martin, he came shooting the last of his humanity onto the grass, but he still wants more. “Harder pounded harder,” the ogre Martin yelled out enjoy. Jack grabs Martin’s muscular back for a better grip, as he is obliging him by starting to pound the new ogre’s ass even harder. Darian’s eyes having begun watering at the sight of his friend’s transformation. looking towards his friend Cluster for strength to help resist his corruption; Only to discover his is being spit roasted by the one called Oz and the dark skin ogre with a black curly hair. His blank eyes over his ridiculously obese body that shock and shakes with an energy as the first and final sign, the point of no return as he become an ogre. Then shadow covers his sight the redhaired ogre with a large container filled with unknown liquid and a tube connected to the container. Darian’s mouth opens against his will as the redhead ogre places a tubelike straw next to his mouth. He begins slurping down the contents of the container as he rediscovers the taste of the cursed apple brandy. Each chug of the alcohol makes Darian’s resistance shrink and whether as his mind slowly succumbs to intoxication and pleasure. Eventually the container and plate of food becomes empty and yet he still wants more. Darian’s drooling mouth blank eyes and red blushing face shows off how helpless he is, especially with his now morbidly obese body lays on the grass ready for any ogre to come and stuff his cock into his hungry ass. Cluster roars as he orgasms shooting the last of his humanity. With his newly Ogreish body he gets up from the two ogres spit roasting him. He starts rubbing his newly sensitive nipples as milk leaks from them, as he watches Bacopa making his way towards the back of Darian, causing Cluster’s cock to re-hardening in anticipation to what is to come. With a lick to the back of his neck Bacopa spoke to him. “I hope you’re ready for it, big boy.” Darian spits out the tube and says drunkenly. “Fuck. Fuck you all. Fuck you monsters for taking my town. Fuck for stealing my friends and family humanity. Fuuuucckk,” Darian yells out as Bacopa’s plunges dick into his ass. A single thrust from Bacopa causing orange and hair to start spreading across Darian’s entire fat body. Bacopa takes his tantalizing time as he pounds Darian’s ass. The Ogreish food and drink making Darian belly turn and jiggle as it begins to react to the ogre’s seed. Some of the ogres like Cluster, Oz and the redhead ogre starts or had begun masturbating as they watch Darian start his transformation into an ogre while the rest continue fucking each other. The fat on Darian’s body starts melting away as fuel for his changing body. First his hard cock grows and doubles in size in length and circumference then his balls swell to the huge size of grapefruit. Then his fat on his belly is quickly eaten up by his growing abs, as his flab pecs firm up and swell with hard muscle over his big hairy stomach. His Biceps swell in sizes reaching the girth of huge bowling balls as thighs reach the size of tree trunks. Fingers growing as large as sausages, hands becoming the size of baseball mitts. Back muscles grew until they can be felt by Bacopa’s hands. Facial features shifting and turning as they became more Ogreish and parent giving him a caveman especially with his beard. With another thrust from Bacopa on to Darian’s Ogreish fat ass, he came and shot the last of his humanity. Darian felt so much pleasure as Bacopa kept pounding his Ogreish ass and tell Bacopa eventually came. When they were both done with their sex they got up, Darian wobbles a little bit as he does so, not used to his new body. Then he notices Cluster masturbating next to him. Darian makes his way towards Cluster and begins licking and sucking on Cluster’s nipples, tasting the milk that comes out. Cluster moans in pleasure liking the way that Darian is teasing his nipples. Then Martin grabs Cluster’s shoulder and give him a big sloppy kiss before they all three restarts having sex with each other. In a house across the street, an ogre in a room of his house, watches and masturbate at the sight of the orgy, with his torn-up clothes strewn across the floor while a changing man sits on his lap masturbating as well, clothes starting ripping and tearing at the scene of his growing body. “Once you’re done changing, I think we should join the party,” the ogre says with a smile at the changing man. Underneath the house of partying of ogres. In the basement strange symbols of magic glow, a femoral blue. On a mat on the floor of the basement laid two ogres in the act of sex from which they have been doing it for hours. These actions feeling the corrupting powers of the house trawling humans and spitting out ogres. As the ogre’s orgy of sex and destruction spread around the city the foggy guy starts turning into clouds as they to stir.
  20. I’d like to thank my friend for developing this story with me. Love you bro. ——————— It is important to look for a safe place when lost. Those two guys knew that. That day, they went hiking in the woods for too long, and got lost, and the night was coming. Fortune was kind to them, there was a cave nearby, and they went there with hopes of resting, so they could return home the next day. The cave was wet and hot, it smelled like thick sweat, and there was a weird miasma on the place. All was too quiet, they decided to look the place around, to be sure it was safe. After walking just some steps, it happened. Fortune deceived them. A huge stream of a weird, gooey substance fell over them, and it kept on falling until they were soaked, filthy. It had a strong smell. They were coated all over with the goo. They tried to get rid of it, but was impossible, the substance was sticky, it covered their whole bodies, and even if they could take some off, the goo was still heavily dripping over them. They try to help each other out, and end up stuck together, a gooey, fetid mess. It gets worse. The goo starts to solidify around them, quickly trapping them together, and to bring it to the next level, a shell was quickly formed, they got trapped together. In panic, they hold each other up, trying to calm themselves down. The hug works, and they rest. They don’t know yet, but the goo is far from a passive substance. It enter their bodies, slowly changing them. As their skin burns, the bros hug tighter, trying to survive the pain. They try to stay strong, and start to realize they are changing, even if they can’t understand fully what is happening. Their clothes start to be corroded by the goo, and they oddly start to feel stronger than before, the fabric that resists starts growing tighter. Their arms start to grow thicker. They still hug, but as their bodies expand, it pushes them apart. One of them extend his arms and with a flex, its sleeves get reduced to shreds. Their shirts grow uncomfortably tighter, and their expanding pecs and ever more defined abs are shown. Both covered in veins, their muscles expand deeply. They increasingly grow strong and well defined, in size and in muscle mass. Shoulders getting ever so strong and thick, as also are their necks. Their faces change, being both sculpted, ever more strong and masculine, raw. As they grow, they hold each other tighter and in a deeper way, as they were discovering how one means to the other. Comforting each other, another growing spurt hits them, and their clothes are no more, nothing separating the goo from their growing naked bodies. They realize they are in this together. No more fear, they allow the goo to cover them, and rejoice in feeling the substance enveloping them. As they hold each other, their skin burns deeper, something ever more strange is happening with their bodies, something big, but that they can’t identify. As it happens, one of the men decide to do something he never thought on doing before. As they became aroused during the change, their cocks are fully awake, and growing, even. “We are in this together” he thinks, realizing even more how he cares about his mate. “Those muscles, my bro, are to protect you”. With that in mind, he caress the cock of the other, and also explores the defined body of him. His friend follows, and they both explore their new changed bodies. First, putting their hands on each other timidly, but then, more vigorously. Feeling an indescribable wave of deep pleasure from being touched. They are too busy discovering new sensations to notice their hair is retrieving, something is coming out of their skins, and there are weird protuberances oddly timidly going out of their skulls. They keep on exploring each other, feeling like they are one. Their cocks drip pre, that mixes itself with the goo. The transformation intensifies, they grow ever more muscular, taller, their skins replaced by scales, their eyes being covered in layers of new lenses, improving their vision, they become even more sensitive to the touch. Their bodies explode in deep orgasm, and they aren’t over yet. One put his cock on the ass of the other, the apex is reached. As the other man enjoys a huge wave of pleasure, they both roar and bellow, deeply bonding with each other. Finally, after a long fuck, the goo get absorbed by their transformed bodies and becomes part of their scales. It is done. But they barely notice, locked in the pleasure. After a while, they finally let go of each other, and admire their profound changes “Fuck” they say together, both are with deep voices, like a growl. “What this cave have done to us, brother” “It made us into beasts, that we are primed to be” “Fuck, bro, I never felt better.. look, look at my arms, look at those fuckin guns” “You look good... and fuck good too” “You don’t look bad yourself.. fuck so good...” They start to stroke each other’s pecs. “This goo, this cocoon changed us” “Hmmm it looks for the better” “Fuck, I love you, bro” They again masturbate each other, one playing with the helmet of the cock of the other. “Even your cock is different, bro” “It is bigger and thicker like yours” The cocks ejaculate a modified cum, yellow and thick, with a very strong smell. They roar in ecstasy. Playing with each other’s cocks more strongly now. They laid down for a while, one holdin the cock of the other. “We are one, bro. My life, I devote to protect you.” They kiss passionately. And one of the men decides it needs to mark this moment, seeing a sharp stone on the floor, he grabs it and draws a spiral on his left chest, letting out roars of pain. Modified blood is spilled, but it was a necessary move. “This is our mark now”. The other does the same. Then they both hold each other’s chest and kiss, cuddling on the floor, holding each other tight, like they were doing in the cocoon. Bonded together, enjoying their new powerful forms.
  21. Absman420

    m/m PHOLUS REBORN

    PHOLUS REBORN by absman420 When I got the call that my Grandfather had passed, I had an odd mixture of disappointment and relief. I’d just seen him a few weeks ago, when he’d turned 92, still as spry and troublesome as ever. He’d been a landscaper and gardener since coming to America in his youth -- he claimed it a tie to the old country, the old ways. He knew plants and he knew how to love them -- his garden lush and inviting, alive and ready-to-burst, even up to the end, when HIS heart had burst. (I’d inherited that from him -- not the bad heart, the green thumb -- though I only grew marijuana in the basement of my house.) They’d found him in the garden, dead. It was the Executive Manager of the Home who felt the need to inform me -- but still with his disapproving attitude -- that my Grandfather had been masturbating when he’d died. “And in the garden, of all places!” he’d said with mock indignity. I shrugged -- what should my reaction have been? It was the Home’s Resident Mortician who’d pulled me aside and informed me quietly that my Grandfather had been “remarkably blessed” with “prodigious equipment” and that the erection he’d had when he’d died hadn’t gone down. (Sadly, I’d not inherited that from him -- mine was more pint-sized than prodigious.) It was no secret that my Grandfather was the bane of the old folk’s home -- the sexually-forward, inappropriate old man who wouldn’t leave the ladies alone. Or the nurses. Or the staff. Although they had a soft spot in their hearts for him -- everything else was about his hard spot, the one he was constantly playing with. All in all, they were not sorry to see him go. While in his room, gathering his few personal effects -- the things worth anything -- another old man came in, one of his fellow gardeners, and presented me with a towel-wrapped object, saying, “Big Red wanted you to have this.” I’d never felt like I’d connected with my Grandfather -- “Big Red” -- we both shared the red hair, but that was all. I’d always assumed it was because I was gay -- his generation had their old-school outlooks -- and he believed in big, hearty masculine expressions. Potency with him, above all -- fertility. His garden had been a reflection of that. But he wanted me to have something! See? He’d thought of me! Even in death, there’s hope! Rolling back the towel, I was surprised to discover a clay garden gnome, about ten/ twelve inches long -- but at least not the cheap, Disney-fied version with the goofy red hat and cheeky smile. (That would’ve probably made me leave it behind.) This was significantly older, a hand-painted terracotta statuette of a disheveled old man dressed in rags with a lusty half-smile on his face -- the only other noticeable detail about the sculpt was that the gnome had an obvious bulge. (Like the kind you don’t see that on the modern-day Wal-Mart gnomes!) “He wanted me to have this?” I ask the other old guy, trying not to sound ungrateful, like I wasn’t suspicious of a joke. “A garden gnome?” “Gnomes are powerful symbols of fertility,” the old guy said -- just my luck, my Grandfather was pals with a professor — then he added, “Look it up. You’ve got The Google” and I felt a lot better about my Grandfather’s associates. “It’s been in the garden long as I can remember. Your Grandpappy said he’d had it his whole life!” I took the Gnome -- “Thank you,” I said. “I have the perfect place for it.” -- (Ironically, I did!) -- and after I’d gotten all the business and paperwork and payments at the Home complete -- my Grandfather safely in a box being shipped to the family site -- I headed back to my house, a few hours away, the Gnome resting in a box in the back seat. I DID have the perfect place for it -- my little basement grow. I put it down at the head of a row of a hybrid I was developing -- I aimed its little bulge at the marijuana plants. “Let ‘er rip,” I laughed. “Show me the fertility!” And for the next year, it did just that -- my yield increasing by over 65% -- until I carelessly knocked the little Gnome off the shelf and broke it. And that’s where the story really starts. **************************************** According to “The Google”: Act surprised, the Ancient Greeks had a God for it -- a God of Fertility: Priapus. Apparently his power was manifested in his oversized genitals -- but with the Christian invasion (and forbidden sexuality that accompanied that religion), Priapus and his cock became a demon, or represented as a withered old man with an uncontrollable erection, often pushing his giant cock before himself on a cart. Religion made genitals and their symbology a punishment, a curse -- act surprised. So… Gnomes. Little old men with massive genitals -- a European ode to the Ancients. Little clay gods of fertility for your garden -- Priapus through the ages. (They didn’t become “cutesy” until the release of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” at the beginning of the 20th century -- Priapus becomes Dopey.) I find stuff like that fascinating. ******************************************** Ultimately, it didn’t matter because the Gnome was just a delivery device. I mean, literally. Just as I was about to buy into the idea that a fertility icon in your garden increases yield, I go and knock the fucking thing off the shelf while tranferring a tray of younglings. Fucking stoner thing to do, honestly. I mean, I tried to “catch” it with my foot -- or at least soften the impact. All I managed to do was scratch myself as it bounced off my sandal -- don’t laugh! It drew blood -- and then shattered on the cement, missing the floor mat because of my interference. Fucking idiot. And I was hoping, you know, maybe some glue? But doesn’t destroying it wreck the mojo? Doesn’t breaking it stop the voodoo that it do so well? Isn’t that the folklore? Immediately I thought of my Grandfather -- now a year in his grave -- he managed to get through his whole life without breaking it! Maybe some glue….? Idiot. So I knelt down next to it and gingerly lifted it up -- the front wasn’t cracked, but collapsed from age, barely more than dust -- glue wasn’t going to help. Fuck. And then the discovery. Something inside the hollowed-out middle, wrapped in what seemed to be very old cheesecloth -- very, very old, like great-grandma’s linen that never came out of the box, faded and brittle and delicate beyond possibility -- someone had planted something INSIDE the Ancient Gnome. Eagerly -- nervously -- I carried the whole mess to my work-table and clicked on the bright, overhead light. I was more afraid of ruining whatever was inside -- especially if it was some sort of message or something. (This was why I wasn’t an archeologist -- it couldn’t possibly be this romantic in real life!) Should I be wearing gloves? I had to break the Gnome a little further to get the package to come out freely. I was a nervous wreck, suppositioning all over the place -- had my Grandfather known about this? Was it my Grandfather who’d planted it? Was this why he wanted me to have the Gnome in the first place? What could it possibly be? The rag or cheesecloth or whatever the hell it was that wrapped it nearly dissolved away, turning to dirty dust even as I tugged on it. Pieces of it came off intact, but it was nothing more than wrapping, no message or clues. Just old -- insanely old -- hundreds of years old. If my Grandfather had known about this, he hadn’t changed anything -- he hadn’t wrapped it in anything new. It was two objects wrapped together. One was an icon, about four inches long, a crude stone carving of an overly muscular man with an enormous phallus -- his dick went practically to his chest -- his eyes dark jewels. The other was a tiny, dark bottle, like a perfume bottle, dark glass, deep blue, a small stopper with a wax seal. Holding it to the light, I couldn’t see through the thick glass, but I could feel it’s age. I spent a few seconds cleaning the bottle, dusting it off and wiping it down gently. Even if there was nothing inside it, the bottle itself was spectacular -- I’d never seen anything like it. I picked up the statue and did the same, wiped it down, cleaned it up, blew off the dust. I was looking in his jeweled eyes when -- I swear -- they lit up, bright red. Not just “caught the light”, not just “sparkled”, they LIT UP and -- I’m not kidding. I’m not making this up -- I had a vision. I heard it speak to me. It said, “PHOLUS” I dropped the little muscular stone like a scorpion -- like a venomous fang. I looked at it in horror as it balanced on its side by its big penis, staring helplessly at the table. What in the name of God? “Name of God!” That’s IT! I pulled out my phone. ********************************************** From The Google: In Greek mythology, Pholus (Greek: Φόλος) was a wise centaur who lived in a cave on or near Mount Pelion. Are you kidding? Pholus is really a thing? A centaur? Weren’t they half-horse? Well, I guess that little statue there is partially-horse, at least. But there was something else. In astronomical terms, Pholus (from Φόλος) is an eccentric centaur (an object classified somewhere between an asteroid and a minor planet) in the outer Solar System, approximately 180 kilometers (110 miles) in diameter, that crosses the orbit of both Saturn and Neptune. It was discovered on 9 January 1992… Wait. What? -- I was born on 9 January, 1992. Pholus and I were twins… which wasn’t funny. It was getting weird. Nicknamed “Big Red,” it’s orbit around the sun takes 92 years and one month… 92 years and one month… my Grandfather -- Big Red’s exact age when he died! Okay, I was fucking freaking out by this time! Too many coincidences. A centaur -- an eccentric centaur -- my birthday -- my grandfather’s orbit -- but that still wasn’t everything. There was one more. When Pholus (from Φόλος) appears in an astrological reading, it represents a spark, a start, grand events set in motion from something small, like shooting oneself in one’s foot, the butterfly effect. When Pholus appears, an unexpected adventure follows. Fuck you, the Google. ****************************************** I leaned against the wall and stared at the work-table for a while, at the askew little icon and the blue-glass bottle. I sat on a stool, smoked a joint, and stared at the stone man, released from his prison, forever erect. How did he talk to me? How had that happened? I’d never heard of “Pholus” before -- I couldn’t have made that up. And even if I had -- there were too many coincidences… there were three different versions of “Pholus” and all of them applied to me! I couldn’t have known about that and “forgotten” -- I didn’t smoke that much weed. No. I’d had a vision -- the icon had spoken to me. Assuming that to be true, I thought, I shouldn’t fear it. If this icon was meant for me -- and it seemed like that was the only conclusion -- then I had no reason for fear. One shouldn’t fear destiny, especially when one knows what it is. Sadly, by the time I worked up enough brave-energy to touch the icon again, nothing happened -- it was just a piece of cold stone. No more flare -- no more sparkle -- no more insight. The little stone dude had a pretty amazing cock… and he seemed so proud… but he’d stopped talking. So, the bottle then. What could it possibly be? Perfume? Wine? Magic Potion? Poison? I mean, it’s ridiculous. I should have it analyzed -- I should find out what it is -- I should know before I unleash some disease, some demon, some genie in a bottle. Maybe ingesting whatever was inside would transform me into a centaur -- well, being gay, maybe a unicorn? I couldn’t see through the deep blue glass, so I didn’t even know if anything was inside at all. I was so busy playing mind-games with myself that I hadn’t realized how much time had passed, even. Sigh. Another joint. Anyway, when I finally got around to opening the stupid thing, it was nearly midnight. The stopper, which was also glass, was sealed with what appeared to be a thick wax. I used a tiny screwdriver to flake it off. It took a little back-and-forth to completely break the seal, but once I did, the little stopper eased out quickly. The Scent. The Scent alone. My cock was rock hard immediately, just on the scent alone -- sex and leather and sweat and metal, the smells of masculinity, from the playful snips and snails and puppy-dog tails of youth to the moment of adult dominance, to the rut of the thrust, the spreading of the seed, it was fertility, the deep, moist earth. It was the Essence of Man. I was compelled to taste it -- I didn’t think twice about it -- it wasn’t until long after the moment that I thought there may have been danger. In the moment, there wasn’t any thought at all, just need -- driving masculine need. Whatever was in that bottle I needed in me. A drop was all -- and barely enough to qualify for the word “drop” -- it rolled lazily out of the bottle like a thick, congealed syrup -- but when it hit my tongue… Orgasm! Immediately, my cock shot -- overwhelming! Like this huge, savage, I’ve-never-felt-it-like-this-before orgasm! Like, so incredibly all-encompassing that every cell of my body was my cock and they were all shooting at once. And then I was able to taste this syrup as it spread across my tongue -- battle and strength and muscle and sweaty maleness mixed with earth and flavored with fire, the taste of heroes and prowess and sweet, hard-won victory. Horse flanks, battle songs and flasks of wine, wrestling for sport and the tight, sweet holes of olive-skinned apprentices -- it was everything dark and earthy, meat and marrow, savagery and strength. It was gloriously masculine. And the aftertaste was dirty, and sexual, and rutted, the nasty, shit-flecked maw of the satisfied fornicator -- the flavor of lust. I was oh, so horny -- I needed to fuck, cock-driven, unapologetic, just lay-in and pound kind of fuck. Not love-making, no gentleness -- playfulness, yes; powerful, definitely -- fucking male on MALE sex! Then came the mental run-down of my fuck-buddy list, too few and too far between, the usual Grindr stall, the seedy bar -- any option. All options. Need to fuck. It was a stranger whose name I sort of remember -- I didn’t care -- all that mattered was the hole. By that time, crazy, stupid needy lust. My little cock was flared and strong, flexing beyond its norm -- serve it, suck it, take it, fuck it. Pholus started the adventure! ************************************************** I woke the next morning in a stranger’s bed, crusty and sweaty, the smell of sex on my breath -- glorious! My cock immediately hardened. He slept on his side, my unknown partner, his back to me, a little blond thing -- his hole was red, swollen, smeared with my dried cum and his ass juices. It smelled glorious -- earthy, sexy -- raw. It was impossible to resist, so I didn’t, licking his hole, loving the taste, digging in and eating. Gripping around his balls, I felt his cock harden with his morning’s piss. Fuck, I wanted that, too. All of it. He woke moaning. “Ohhh, man… stop. I can’t… I’m sore and I gotta pee…” “You taste so fuckin’ good,” I mumbled, slurping his hole. “Lemme just eat it awhile…” “That’s gross,” he said, pulling himself away. “I’m gonna pee -- you should be gone when I get done.” I was laying there with this big hard-on -- I showed it to him. “Aw, c’mon, baby, you can’t leave me like this…” “You got a nice dick,” he said, pulling himself out of bed, “and you sure know how to use it. You fucked me every which way sideways last night and I’m sore as hell right now. But you should be gone when I get done.” “Aw, fuck,” I said, with this impossible hard-on, and these blue-ass balls. Cold little bitch. Where the fuck were my shoes? ******************************************** The Uber driver could smell me -- I could tell. And I know it made him uncomfortable -- he shifted himself in his seat several times. After a while, I realized it was because he had a hard-on, too. That was fucking hot. Cocks were fucking hot. With my fingers, I squeezed mine through the material of my pants while we drove. I knew he saw me -- I didn’t care. It felt too good. Everything felt good. In the shower, I noticed it more in my balls than in my cock -- the growth, I mean -- but also from the undeniable rush of testosterone. The way it felt. I was a man -- all man. I felt like a man -- and I fucking loved it! I gave very little thought to the idea that whatever was in that bottle had adversely affected me -- just the opposite. Whatever was in that bottle had changed me for the better! Somehow, it had awakened something in me -- it had connected me to something greater than myself -- MY masculine essence. I shot off a load in the shower, praising Priapus and Pholus (and Phallus, too!) -- I could phuck them all! Who could deny the power of the cock? Who wouldn’t want this? ********************************************** From “The Google”: Priapism is a condition in which a penis remains erect for hours in the absence of stimulation or after stimulation has ended. Most cases are ischemic. Ischemic priapism is generally painful while nonischemic priapism is not. In ischemic priapism, most of the penis is hard. In nonischemic priapism, the entire penis is only somewhat hard. Aw, fuck man -- that was me in one bold sentence -- nonischemic priapism. My dick hadn’t been flaccid in over two weeks. The only reason it didn’t concern me was because it didn’t hurt -- so why shouldn’t it show itself off? It was a damn nice cock -- it was just putting itself out there. As a matter of fact, it was kind of hot Fucking EVERYTHING was kind of hot! That my sex drive was stuck in high gear was kind of hot -- finding out I have nonischemic priapism was kind of hot. But hottest of all? My dick was getting bigger. My dick, my balls -- bigger. It didn’t help that my cock was semi-hard all the time, it just kept me from noticing it right away. But in the last two weeks, my hard cock had shot up to eight inches! And not in Grindr inches, either -- ACTUAL measurement! And my testosterone production was up, too, like a thousand percent, thanks to my growing balls, over-producing to make up for their past. My workouts had been fucking crazy -- they would just go on and on and I’d never lose energy -- two, three hours. The harder I trained, the hornier I felt, my big cock jutting out before me, struggling against the compression-anything I wore. I swear, I was shooing the guys off like flies -- I think my smell attracted them. I think my sweat was becoming some kind of pheromone or something. I was fucking them in the steam room, the shower, one guy in the janitor’s closet -- I was a fucking beast! A beast with big, low-hanging balls. I thought about going to the doctor, but then I thought, why? What’s WRONG with me? For the first time in my life, it felt like everything was right! I was getting muscular -- not huge, not like one of those muscle-heads -- but BIG, you know? Commanding. Six months after I’d been blessed by the gods, I weighed a solid 235, carrying almost no body-fat. I learned (from The Google) that testosterone was a natural leaning agent, one of the reasons teenage boys (at the peak of testosterone production) looked the way they did -- the more I produced, the leaner I got. So, at 235, I looked fucking awesome, even bigger than I really was! I started getting hairier, too. At first, a thicker pelt on the chest, a scruffier beard -- sexy -- but then my shoulders, my back -- I began having to trim back my bush or it would’ve taken over. I became the King of Manscaping. I ended up with a rough beard -- I gave in on that, otherwise I was shaving two or three times a day. But apparently, the boys liked the way it felt on their holes, so I didn’t sweat it. The hair grew thicker in the grooves of my abs, emphasizing them even more. I was so… fucking… manly! By then my cock was nearly 11 inches long in its constant semi-erect state, displaying itself proudly before me. People REACTED to it -- no matter how I tried to hide it at first, once someone saw it, they couldn’t stop looking. (I do believe it’s hypnotic -- but that’s a point for later.) And to be honest, I loved the attention. I thought I would’ve been freaked or embarrassed by having such an obvious member, but it was the opposite -- the bigger it got, the greater my pride and eagerness to show it off. ********************************************* From “The Google”: Erect penises have appeared in erotic (sexually exciting) art for a very long time. Pictures of men with erections appear on ancient objects and in paintings. In the past, the erect penis was also a symbol or sign of health and fertility (the ability to give life). Ancient Egyptians, Greeks and Romans believed in gods that had erect penises. Men with larger penises are often thought to be more handsome, manly and powerful. I became a Brand. There was little else I could do, actually. I mean, why WASN’T I in porn? Why wasn’t I sharing my blessing with everyone? I created the “Pholus” Brand -- and I adopted my Grandfather’s nickname, “Big Red” -- Big Red Pholus, that was who I became. My OnlyFans page… I swear, I put up a video of me commando beneath a pair of loose gym shorts, jumping rope in slow motion, and within two days… money was no longer an issue in my life. I set a record for followers within a week and became an “Influencer” on IG so fast I had to look it up on The Google to find out what an Influencer was. Clothing designers -- I had a guy specifically for underwear and jockstraps -- assistants, an entourage, the works! And this was the weird thing: the worship… empowered me. I mean, it… it made me… more than I was. As I did cam shows and live shows and as my audience grew, I grew, too. Not just muscularly (where I was steadily improving), or scrotally (where I was pushing boundaries), I mean spiritually. Can you imagine what it does to your psyche to have guys pay you obscene amounts of money just to touch your cock? To have them beg you to suck it? To love it the way you do? I accepted it -- I welcomed it. I had been blessed by the gods -- I was something more-than-man. A demi-god -- a demi with a semi. A demi-semi-god! I had a destiny. Sex was easy, constant -- I was either seducing or fucking. Wherever I was, whatever I was doing, it was a prelude to sex. I couldn’t have enough -- there was never a moment when I was satisfied, when I wasn’t eager for more. And men fell under my spell -- whether it was my smell, or my aura, or the obvious swell of my cock -- they all gave it up for me, they all became my bottom. There was nothing I enjoyed more than finding the Big Alpha straight-guy at a strange gym and watching him turn into a weak-willed bitch when he’d ultimately yield to my superior cock. The look on his face when he’d first see it beneath my gym clothes, or more regularly, my compression pants -- shock and awe -- the way he’d try to befriend me, like we could be the cocks-of-the-walk together, buddies -- and finally him on his knees in the locker room, in the posing room, wherever, pounding his own cock while he gave in and worshipped mine. It was the way of men to worship gods. And all men worshipped the god of the phallus -- and now Pholus, who seemed the god made flesh. **************************************** More from “The Google”: In Greek mythology, a satyr (Greek: σάτυρος sátyros, pronounced [sátyros]), also known as a silenos (Greek: σειληνός seilēnós), is a male nature spirit with ears and a tail resembling those of a horse, as well as a permanent, exaggerated erection. Early artistic representations sometimes include horse-like legs, but, by the sixth century BC, they were more often represented with human legs. Like satyrs, centaurs were notorious for being wild, lusty, overly indulgent drinkers and carousers, violent when intoxicated, and generally uncultured delinquents. I gained the ability to make others like myself. It began to happen late in the second or third year since my blessing from the gods, my rebirth. My cock was over a foot long by that point, meaty and thick, my pendulous nads nearly the size of oranges -- even at 6’4” 245, they were out of proportion (I didn’t look anywhere near as freakish as I would’ve if I’d remained 5’9”, but I’d grown steadily since my blessing, so I looked like a really big guy with a REALLY big cock. Who knew where, or if it would end.) I was hairy and gruff, balding from too much testosterone, bearded and beautiful. And naked, I was spectacular. I would watch videos of myself having sex because it was so hot, my big, hairy muscle destroying some boy’s sweet pink hole. My favorites were the little tops who thought they were gonna top me. I mean, imagine having a cock like mine and the guy still wants to fuck me? Like, I’d made some of the biggest Alpha males submit to me, reveled in turning them into big muscle bottoms, but there were particular guys -- usually wrestler/ MMA-grappler types -- who wouldn’t fall under the spell of my cock, whose sweat smelled manly, too, and just went forward with the foreplay as if I were some meaty bottom. The first time it happened, it was this hot little Jersey boy, muscular and sexy with some sweet abs, probably 5’8” or 5’9”, tattoos, steroid scars on his back, skinny legs but a dick to die for. It tasted as pretty as it looked. “You gotta let me fuck you,” he growled. “With that cock, you probably never get fucked as good as you should. Lemme show you, baby…” Eating my hole, he won me over -- fuck, I had to reward an enthusiast -- especially the way he buried his face in my hairy, sweaty crack, like he couldn’t get enough. I’d forgotten how good a dick up inside me felt -- I hadn’t bottomed since my blessing -- and I gotta say, Jersey-boy wasn’t as selfish with it as I thought he’d be. He knew how to fuck. On my back, my huge legs spread wide, he stood next to the bed and pounded my hole, my own hard cock resting between the halves of my chest, inches from my chin, fairly leaking my pheromone-laden pre-cum -- even I was under my own spell. “God damn, you tight,” Jersey-boy muttered. “Not damned,” I panted. “Blessed.” “Gonna cum in your blessed hole…” “Yes,” I moaned, placing my hands on either side of his head. “Yes. Give your offering…” When he shot, driving his dick deep into me, his eyes rolled back in his head. In that moment, I felt -- not only my own orgasm -- I felt this energy leave me through my hands and enter him. I wish I could describe it better. It wasn’t like he took something from me -- it wasn’t like I gave him power -- it was more like I awakened something in him. Yet I felt that change in energy -- I was the cause of it. The catalyst. When he opened his eyes, there was something there that hadn’t been before -- a glint, a lust. The corner of his mouth curled into a devilish smile and I felt his cock re-harden inside me, even harder than it had been, and he just started lust-fucking me. What an incredible fuck that was -- the sudden power, the masculinity, the determination -- we were sweaty and breathless and oh, so hungry. I couldn’t even tell you how many times we came, how many moments of utter bliss we experienced -- how much energy we expelled and exchanged. The cock he pulled out of me was nearly twelve inches long, with heavy, obvious balls to match. Twice as big as it had been before -- nowhere near as big as it would get -- it looked magnificently out-of-proportion with the rest of him. He loved it! The next few weeks were a blurry fuck-fest. He matched me for sexual energy and desire -- his sweat was as irresistible, his personality as seductive -- everything we did, everywhere we went ended up an orgy. At the gym, working out together, watching the big straight bodybuilders fall under our spell, envying our big, gorgeous cocks. At the bars, dancing on the bars, they worshipped us, watching us strut and flex. At the bath-houses, where parties could extend into days, they gave us a never-ending supply of holes to fuck. But after a few months, Jersey-boy began to bore me. He was nothing but fucking. No thought, no drive, no interest, no appreciation -- all he cared about was how to put his cock in some guy’s hole. He didn’t need me -- he had his own circle of worshippers, of devotees -- his entourage. I still loved him -- I was bonded to him, my brother and my son; I could feel him wherever he was -- I just needed my freedom. But it wasn’t long before I created others. The same basic type: the cocky, unrelenting top -- the guy who would insist on trying to fuck me, even after seeing my hypnotic cock. Through the years, I’d created about twenty of them -- same way, they’d fuck me and at the moment of their orgasm, I would give them the energy to open themselves to the Primal Force, their Masculine Power. Like me, they grew -- muscularly, scrotally -- all their lusty appetites, but unlike me, they lost their reason, their love for anything but sex. They became this hyper-masculine, hyper-endowed, sexually-driven fraternity -- a herd of hairy, horse-hung men. Modern Day Centaurs. They fucked with me -- around me -- the world became one never-ending sex party. I loved it, every moment of it, my constant libido, my unsatisfied hunger for sex -- to express sex -- to BE sex! With every fuck, with every orgasm, with every of my centaur’s orgasms, I became stronger. Worshipping the act of sex meant worshipping me. For years it grew -- for years I reigned, continuing to grow. I weighed around 270 by my 40th birthday (52 left, I’d joke) and my cock was a magnificent thirty-inches long, half-hard and hanging like a heavy branch from a sturdy tree. My balls dangled like melons, their weight stimulating me more, producing so much testosterone that I just reeked of it. Huge rings hung from my nipples -- another of the same size pierced my septum. (Many of the centaurs had pierced theirs -- cheap horse-symbolism, but still sexy.) I was magnificent. There was not a man who could resist me, not an enemy I couldn’t dominate -- I had the most powerful men in the world begging to serve me, willing to do anything to kneel before me -- the richest men in the world as my benefactors. And all they wanted was sex. Me. I was sex. ********************************* Again, The Google: Apotheosis (from Greek ἀποθέωσις from ἀποθεόω/ἀποθεῶ, apotheoo/apotheo "to deify"; in Latin deificatio "making divine"; also called divinization and deification) is the glorification of a subject to divine level and, most commonly, the treatment of a human like a god. In theology, apotheosis refers to the idea that an individual has been raised to godlike stature. It is the way of the gods to be apart from humanity, but desire to be a part of it. As I got older -- and bigger -- it became more and more difficult to move about in public. The year I turned 54 -- which coincidentally was the year I’d been elevated for as long as I’d been human, 27 years -- I was 6’5”, 290 muscular pounds, still as lean as a teen, with a cock that was nearly forty inches long and balls that hung nearly to my knee. I was graying, sure, but didn’t look my age in the face -- I looked like my Grandfather at the same age. The Daddy-thing worked in my favor. I separated myself from the others. They never stopped -- they never expressed interest in anything other than carousing and fucking around. It was exhausting. There was no appreciation of arts or literature or the expression of creative thought -- everything was directed at sex. Everything. After a while, I found myself bored, seeking more -- though what more could there be? I desired to travel, but travel was nearly impossible. Wherever I went, sex happened. My smell, my aura, whatever it was about me that men couldn’t resist, it didn’t stop -- I couldn’t turn it off. Obviously, I couldn’t fly -- ultimately, the pilot would be unable to resist the inevitable orgy that would happen and the plane would crash. Maybe if the pilot flew with an air mask? Who knows? To me, it wasn’t worth the try. Fortunately, several of my benefactors had yachts -- massive, sprawling things that they were more than happy to offer me. In that way, I saw much of the world, spreading my seed all around the globe. We were anchored off the shore of Mykonos and I was busy fucking my way through the height of the high season -- oh, the gorgeous gay men who summered in Mykonos -- when I heard rumor of another like me. One of the local boys, whose English was far better than my Greek -- together, we spoke the language of Lust -- told me that I reminded him of the stories he’d heard about a reclusive sex god who was said to live up the coast, on Mt. Pelion. An old man with a giant cock -- the stories said he pushed his cock around before himself on a cart -- his smell, like mine, was said to drive men wild with lust, enough to make them impale themselves on his huge penis until they were dead. It was a story locals told for generations, perhaps in an effort to keep the young men from playing in the many caves along the coast. The boy told me this while impaling himself on my huge penis, so I wasn’t sure how much of it was porn-fantasy on his part. But I heard several corroborating stories over the next few weeks, so with little better to do, I had the captain sail us up the East Coast of Greece toward the Pelion Peninsula. And there was someone -- I could feel him. The closer we got, passing the spectacular cliffs and inlets of this ancient coast, the more I became aware of him. This feeling reminded me of the bond between myself and the ones I’d created, the Modern Day Centaurs -- it had the same longingful pull. The call of sex. I followed this call. Going ashore, dressed in linen pants and loafers, shirtless, my hairy beauty exposed to the world, I unerringly led myself up the mountain to the hidden door of a house nearly invisible in the mountainside of Mt. Pelion, as if someone had taken a cave and had Andrew Lloyd Wright develop it into a residence -- the old and the new melded seamlessly together. An olive-skinned beauty opened the door, dressed only in a short linen skirt and sandals. He was spectacular, young and hairless, his pink, puffy nipples sitting atop his tight, muscular chest -- his pink, pouty lips ready to pleasure my cock. But he wasn’t the scent I sought. “Geiá sou,” I said in my sorry Greek. “Eínai o kýrios sas?” The boy smiled -- probably because of the way I butchered his language. “He is expecting you,” he said in perfect English, opening the door to bid me enter. Again, walking through the house was like walking through a cave that had been made into a house, all the stone and slate, with the sleek, LCD lighting and hidden speakers piping in some old folk music -- it was the kind of place one saw on the Rich & Famous Real Estate shows, a little too over-the-top to be believed. NOTHING could’ve been this nice. How much money had this taken? How many years? The boy walked before me, allowing me to view his spectacular ass -- it was hard to decide exactly what to look at, the house or the boy. We descended a short stairs and emerged into a grotto. It reminded me of the Ancient Public Baths, a large pool dominating the space, with several types of hot tubs adorning the circumference and a magnificent, raised dais on one end, almost like a pulpit, where a massive bed sat ready for use. This was the biggest-budget porn-set I’d ever seen -- as if Spielberg were shooting a Greek fuck-flick. As we entered, the boy’s Master stood from the hot tub, his back to us, as two other olive-skinned beauties dressed him in a white, terry-cloth robe. He was nearly eight feet tall, massively muscular, though in proportion with his height, as if someone had taken a super-heavyweight bodybuilder and blew him up to 150%. An older man -- I would put him somewhere in his early sixties -- with salt-and-pepper hair that favored the salt, but long on top and shaved short on the sides -- his grooming was as meticulous as his house. He sported a beard that was a bit longer than mine, but oiled and maintained with an attention mine had never known. The robe didn’t hide the fact that he was hairy, but why wouldn’t he be? He was the perfect man. The robe made no secret of his cock, either. Like mine, it jutted before him like an extra limb, continuously hard and heavy, ready for more. It had to be over three feet long, but the way the boys had placed it in the material, it was hard to be sure. I’d hoped to find out. Hardly the image of a withered old man with his cock on a cart. When we made eye-contact, he smiled -- and in that moment, I recognized him. I didn’t know how -- not then -- but I knew who he was. I’d known him for thousands of years. “Oh my god,” I said. “Chiron!” “Hello, Pholus,” he said in English, with a glorious accent, opening his muscular arms for a hug. “Welcome home!” **************************************** You know the gag by now: In Greek mythology, Chiron (/ˈkaɪrən/ KY-rən; also Cheiron or Kheiron; Greek: Χείρων "hand") was held to be the superlative centaur amongst his brethren, as he was called as the "wisest and justest of all the centaurs". Chiron was notable throughout Greek mythology for his youth-nurturing nature. His personal skills tend to match those of his foster father Apollo, who taught the young centaur the art of medicine, herbs, music, archery, hunting, gymnastics and prophecy, and made him rise above his beastly nature. Centaurs were notorious for being wild, lusty, overly indulgent drinkers and carousers, violent when intoxicated, and generally uncultured delinquents. Chiron, by contrast, was intelligent, civilized and kind, because he was not related directly to the other centaurs due to his parentage. I couldn’t even tell you how long we fucked before we had a chance to talk. It felt like that sexual communication was almost as valuable as the verbal would be. His age was buffered by his confidence and his ability, his skillful love-making knew no bounds. Our cocks were big enough to be inside each other as we faced one another, each fucking the other while we deeply kissed. “I’ve missed you,” he moaned as he shot yet another load into me. “It’s been too long…” “I don’t understand,” I said while he thrusted himself on my hard pole. “This all feels so familiar.” “There will be plenty of time for talk,” he said, bringing me to orgasm. “But first, we must be what we are.” That first sexual coupling lasted nearly a full week. We fucked in the grotto, we fucked in the pool, we fucked in his bed, we fucked in a sling that was hung deep in the cavernous depths of the mountain. He showed me more ways to stimulate someone than I’d ever known -- or experienced! He was a master at pleasure. “Well, I should be,” he said later, sitting upright against a massive pile of cushions. I sat with my back against him, in the crook of his arm -- we were smoking some of my best bud. “After all, I’ve been having sex for thousands of years. I’ve picked up a thing or two.” “Thousands of years,” I mumbled, taking my hit. Then, upon exhalation I said, “So are you immortal?” “Gods exist as long as people worship them,” he replied, taking the joint from me. “And fortunately, we’re gods of rutty, physical sex -- men will ALWAYS believe in that.” He kissed me deeply, sharing the hit he’d taken. Of course, he was a good kisser, too. He had a staff of the most beautiful men, stunning examples all -- they bathed us and catered to us and fed us. I could feel their adoration and pride and… worship. I let it empower me. The myths held some truths: Chiron was a teacher at heart. He told me everything. “Surely you’ve done some research,” he said, indicating the computer screen before us -- (when I made a joke about the Batcave, he didn’t get my reference, so he didn’t know EVERYTHING). “From the myth of Pholus, we get the phrase ‘shooting yourself in the foot’ -- did you know that?” I shook my head and smiled. “After Heracles finished his fourth labor, he was tasked with wiping out the centaurs. Their drunken, sexual carousing was proving too much for the local populace, so he came to Pholus’ cave here in Mt. Pelion — this very cave — to seek a special Dionysian wine to lure the centaurs out into the open. Ultimately, Heracles slew them all with arrows poisoned by the blood of the hydra. After the battle, Pholus, marvelling at the idea that so small a thing as an arrow could kill something as magnificent as a centaur, dropped the poison arrow on his foot, where it pierced his skin and killed him.” “That’s what happened?” I asked. “That’s the MYTH,” he said, taking another hit. “I love this stuff, marijuana. It’s rare that I have any -- I’ve lost my taste for what passes for wine nowadays.” He exhaled and passed back to me. After taking a moment to adjust his huge balls, he continued. “In fact, it wasn’t Heracles, it was a small armada fighting in Heracles’ name that wiped us out — again, time and telling change the story. And it was understandable -- we’d created too many. We got a little… trigger happy in our play -- there needs to be a balance.” “Centaurs…?” “Right! Well, obviously not men with the bodies of horses -- but you’ve seen what they become, what their COCKS become when we change them. Is it any surprise that they became known as ‘horse-men’ or ‘half-man/ half-horse’ to the people who are left to describe them? Mythology has a wonderful way of literalizing the traits of the gods. We are spirits of nature, sexual spirits, not animals -- organized religion has used that metaphor to death. They took our form and made it into their Satan! Yet still, our ways persist -- men still worship us -- religion or not, they put gnomes in their gardens, wards in their crops, they know that fertility IS sex, Nature’s sex -- when the gods are fertile, the land prospers -- we are linked. “No, Heracles’ Armada wiped them out -- nearly all. I’d been hit in the battle and spent the next few months curing myself with herbs and medicines.” He showed me a scar on his thigh, barely evident after all this time. “Rumor had it I’d died -- that’s what the myth said, too -- but that wasn’t the case. I’d just gone into hiding. I WAS too late to help you, though,” he continued, rubbing my pec with the arm he had draped over my shoulder. “You were nearly gone by the time I got to you, so I… did what I could and preserved your essence.” “Excuse me?” He shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it without getting all technical and metaphysical -- I don’t know if you’ll understand it, even then. Suffice it to say that through physics and arcane sorcery, I captured your essence in a form not unlike your favorite thing: Dionysian wine!” He chuckled then, kissing my head. “I was the one who bottled it and guarded it for several thousand years, waiting for the right man, until it was spirited away from me during one of the many wars of the former century. I didn’t know anything more about it until I heard about you on the internet -- my Pholus, come back to me!” Kissing, kissing, always kissing. “Someone sealed it inside a garden gnome,” I said. “It was in my grandfather’s garden. I honestly think it was meant for him -- his build, his attitude (maybe he was a centaur?) -- he had to have known about it. After his death, it was passed to me, where it Lorded over a bunch of marijuana plants until I broke it… and discovered…’ “Your destiny,” he said, grabbing my cock. I stayed with him after that -- he claimed the cave was mine to begin with -- and allowed myself to be his apprentice, his pupil, his son, and his lover. He was trained in all the fine arts -- music, literature, theatre (he adored musicals!), the sciences, herbs, art. “This is what sets us apart from the beasts we make,” he said. “They cannot appreciate the finer things.” He taught me the art of sex, techniques from people long-forgotten. We played daily with each other, the staff, the local boys, visitors who came just to worship -- it was a scene from the great erotic writers, sexual energy providing the energy for everything, from the ideas to the art to the power for life. On my 92nd birthday, the same age as my grandfather when he’d passed, I was just-over seven feet tall -- still a foot shorter than Chiron -- but with a spectacular body and an unbelievable cock. I was vital, vigorous, and very horny. Chiron had re-grown the hair on my head -- he’d concocted some kind of (very) smelly salve, but it worked! After having been bald for most of my adult life, it was fun to have hair again as an “old” man. I certainly wasn’t was some kind of dried-up prune of a thing pushing my oversized cock before me on a cart, no matter what the stories said. I found Chiron in the hot-tub, soaking in the bubbling water with his arms along the edge of the tub -- even from here, I could smell his scent. “There’s the birthday boy!” he said when he saw me. I laughed. “Your favorite eccentric centaur has made his first complete lap around the sun,” I said, standing in the waist-deep water so my giant cock floated just below the surface, like a small shark. “Then you’re really just a one year old, right?” he asked. “That sounds like a good average -- one year for you equals ninety-two for everyone else. So you’ll be around 8,400 when you’re REALLY 92.” I laughed. “And they say I’M the eccentric one,” I said, leaning forward to kiss him. “I’m saying immortality requires a different mindset.” He began to rub the tip of my cock, right beneath the glans -- of course it started to harden. Horny old fuck. I bent forward and kissed him. “So, what’s next?” I asked. “Travel, I think. I should like to see the world! I’ve never been to the Americas, your former home -- and we should see how your centaurs are getting along. I’m curious.” “You’re just horny,” I said, toying with his cock as he teased mine. He chuckled in our kiss. “Eternally,” he said. We began our normal day -- we fucked -- and we made our plans. *********************************************** We leave tomorrow and have been fucking our goodbyes through the local populace. Our personal staff will travel with us and we have people to watch the cave (not that we expect any trouble -- even the worshippers are dedicated and respectful) and of course everything is connected to everything now, so communication is hardly in the Age of Homer, trying desperately to reach Ithaca. I plan to visit my grandfather’s grave and bury the little stone icon of the muscular man with the giant penis there to honor him. He watched over it for so many years in life, I’d like it to watch over him in death. I will thank him too, properly, for the gift he gave me. That’s the purpose of this story, I suppose -- to honor my grandfather. I’ve taken much of the last week writing it -- to help organize my thoughts -- and I’ve struggled with its theme. Chiron has read it and thinks it’s just fine as it is. “Let it speak for itself,” he said. “You Americans and your obsession with plot. It’s a symbolic piece -- it requires more thought than what’s happening in the plot. Let it be.” And so I do. This is my story -- this is what happened when Pholus was reborn. Thank you, Big Red.
  22. DPump

    A Thing Called Curiosity

    Hi, this will be my first story posted on here, this is my story called 'A Thing Called Curiosity' which i had originally posted on metabods.com a couple of years ago It involves forced muscle growth and absorption, the story also contains a few images in order to help with the visualisation, please tell me if the images add or take away from the story. I hope you guys like it and any feedback would be appreciated! - A Thing Called Curiosity - It was a late Autumn day, and it was a particularly cool day, about 27 degrees Celsius, and quite dry wind a lot of wind so it felt like 24 degrees, Cameron liked going out on jogs in the morning, and it was a perfect day for it with this nice cool weather, so he put on a hoodie and just compression shorts and headed out, since it was still 4am he guessed there wouldn’t be many people on the street so he could wear whatever he wanted, especially on a holiday and in the weekend, everyone would be sleeping in anyways. Cameron was a 19 year old young man from a town called Citadel in the Kingdom of Two Suns, it was a very small country, only about 150.000 inhabitants, and it was a generally hot and a very humid place since it was an island surrounded by water, but during the Autumn and Winter seasons it would rain a great amount and it would make the island a generally quite cool place. Cameron was still in High School, he was an average boy in every sense, average grades, average at sports, had normal friends, but he was quite a handsome lad, he was mixed race from having both side of the mother and father coming from already mixed lineages, which gave him a very unique look, he looked Iranian but with golden tanned skin, jet black semi-wavy hair, great eyebrows and grey coloured eyes, he had those naturally pink full lips. He had no facial hair whatsoever, but he did have medium/long hair with a slight wave, it was jet black but with a few patches that grew brown naturally and he kept it in a simple pompadour hairstyle, he also had a generally hairy body, but it looked good, he had long thin soft jet black hairs on his arms and between his pecs, the rest of his pecs were hairless naturally, he also has a treasure trail that started just above belly button and went down to his crotch, and his legs were covered with long semi-wavy long black hair that was thicker on the lower legs and thinned out as it went up to the crotch area. His body was athletic, nothing too special but he certainly didn’t need it, he was tone and was 175cm tall (5’7”) and weighed a decent 68,9kg (152lbs) so he was quite the eye candy but he was humble so he never became the arrogant type of dreamboat in High School although it didn’t stop girls (and a few guys) from wanting him. One thing he was always fascinated by were the physique of world class body builders though, he wanted to be one, or meet one and be able to touch those incredible muscles but he didn’t know why, he didn’t have a particular desire to be one except he just felt like he needed to, but with school, family, job and etc. he didn’t have the luxury to invest time in body building, besides he was content with body as it was, or so he told himself, with the images of body builder physiques always in the back of his mind at all times. Back on the jog, it was 4:59am, you could barely start seeing the sky on the horizon turning orange/red as the sunrise was approaching, he had been jogging for almost an hour, when he decided it was time to start heading back, he quite sweaty and his hoodie and compression shorts were soaked, so he decided to take off the hoodie to try and dry off a bit. He decided to take a short cut through the wilderness, he was by the beach and going up back through the jogging path would take too long, so he just cut through the wood to get home faster. As he was walking through the plants after about 20 minutes the sun was almost out and the light made everything much clearer when he noticed a tiled rooftop over the plants to his right, he was a curious boy who liked exploring so he couldn’t resist and decided to go check out the old building. As he approached the little house he could clearly see it was 17th century house, Citadel had many old colonial buildings and some smaller ruins were still in the wild lost and forgotten to time, but this one seemed in decent shape but the doorway was bricked up. “Strange,” he thought, “if it’s bricked up, then someone used it not too long ago.” That only sparked his curiosity even more, so he looked for a way in, the windows were also sealed shut except for one where it seemed to have given away, so jumped on the ledge and then stepped inside the little house. It was dusty and smelled like it had been closed off for a while but with the little light that entered through the window he could see a bit of furniture, and a bookcase filled with books, he saw a kitchen but not pans and dishes but beakers, so he thought, “Maybe a doctor lived here.” It certainly looked old, at least 30 years, so he grabbed one of the books from the bookshelf, and read, it was about genes, hormones, tissue transplants and drugs. “Hmm, it seems more like a biochemist then a medical doctor,” he thought to himself when he heard some creaking and the rotted old bookcase he took the book from sank into the floor on the right side, it surprised him since the floor seemed like it was made from concrete covered with tiles, but he noticed that only under the bookcase it was a wooden plank floor “so there’s something more under the house?” again curiosity got the best of Cameron and pulled the bookshelf out the hole and moved it to one side. “If i take out 3 more planks I should be able to fit through there,” he thought to himself as he shined a light from his phone down the hole. After taking out the needed planks before he jumped in the whole he heard some voices, it were people and they were near, he didn’t want someone to find him and ruin his fun since he doubted he should be in the, so he jumped in the hole where a staircase awaited him to his surprise, he shined with phone and the staircase seemed to go down a few more steps, he couldn’t see far since the phone’s screen isn’t as bright as a flashlight would be, then he turned back and peaked out the hole and he heard the voices of the other morning joggers and decided to just drag the small cabinet against the wall over the hole, the cabinet was bigger and hid the entire hole so if someone also got curious of the house they wouldn’t find this secret passageway. He then turned his attention to where he was, it seemed the little house had a basement, so he walked down the stairs, it was about 16 steps which lead him to steal door. “This door doesn’t look 30 years old, it’s dusty but must be 15 years old at best,” he said out loud as he examined the door with his phone. “The plot thickens,” he said as he found the 2 latches that held the door closed, he pulled one back and then the other, and he opened the door so a very dark room, the room felt hot, about 29 degrees but very humid so it felt like 31 degrees or a summer day. “Good thing I took off my hoodie,” he said. He couldn’t see anything and he guessed the room was quite expansive since he couldn’t shine at anything with lights except an industrial looking steel pathway that lead forwards, so he touched around the sides of the door looking for a switch but couldn’t find one, so he decided to walk forward on the pathway, albeit carefully, which after a few steps he found a stand with switches on it from what he could make out and he could barely see something a little more ahead, so he went for and said, “What the hell, hope this is it,” and flicked 1 switch then the second one, and third, and fourth and fifth switches up, he heard the flicker of an old light then one grid of lights from behind him turned on then another over his head and so on towards the front, and he saw what he had discovered. “this is incredible!” he yelled out with a grin on his face. The lights showed the pathway that lead to a central octagonal shaped part which looked like a research or control station for something, and there was a bundle of pipes that lead to it and then a huge amount of different wires and pipes then lead out of it so another part further in front which he could somewhat see but it was still in the only dark part of the room. He walked over to the control station where there was a ring of monitors that turned on in the inner circumference of the octagon, and in the middle and tower where all the pipes and wires lead in and the back out. The screens slowly booted up one by one. He looked at the largest monitor and saw different buttons and controls. “I guess this one controls other things,” and he looked at one that read ‘illuminate tanks’ he couldn’t guess what that could mean so he pressed it because the only places still needing illumination was the dark unclear part further back from the octagon. What he saw made his jaw drop, it was an area a staircase down from the octagonal platform where he was standing, and there is where he saw 5 large glass vessels filled with a transparent liquid, they were each illuminated by individual internal lights and a central large overhead lighting system over the central floor area with the glass vessels in a circular array around it. But the truly shocking thing he saw was the contents of the glass vessels, it was 5 enormous men, it was 5 men with the physiques he always admired and craved, it was 5 body builders with incredible muscle size, one in each tank. Cameron was awestruck and walked down the steel stairs that lead to the tank area, he managed to get his head to come back to earth as he started to analyse the area where the tanks were situated. There were large wire bundles and various tubes that lead from the control platform over to the tank are which split overhead and came down over each of tanks. “I guess they feed power and that liquid to the tanks and I guess transport information to, and from the tanks to the computers up there,” he said speaking out loud. But there were other wires and tubes that lead other places, like from each of the tanks a tube went overhead and converged into a single pipeline which lead overhead to the middle of the area and then had a different tube that came down and it had an oddly shaped nozzle. There were also tubes that come from under the floor and up to 2 stands, one had 1 tube and the other held 2 tubes about 3meters (10ft) apart from each other and in between them on the floor there was a part of the floor made from metal and was an odd shape, kind of like the silhouette of a dolphin seen from above or the reclining dentist chairs but this was just flat so just the contour. And there were 3 little openings on the metal plate on the floor, one at the top, and two, one on each side about halfway down. His attention shifted to the men in the tanks so he approached the first one to the right, he read what a plate on the glass read “Subject number 5  –  NEN code: 300977  –  Height: 179cm (5’10”  –  Weight: 106,2kg (234lbs)  –  BF percentage: 11%  –  Age: 31” “Wow that is enormous, and so heavy.” Cameron found it even more appealing when a body builder wasn’t just big but also quite heavy for their size. He further examined the man in the tank, he was naked and suspended in the liquid in a limp posture like he was just floating under water, and he had two tubes probing his body, a thin one went inside his mouth which he guess provided life support, a very large one just laid on the bottom of the tank, and there was one that came down his back and went into his anus, the tube was transparent and rather thick, the diameter must have been about 4cm (1.5inches) or 14cm circumference (5inches), Cameron didn’t know why but looking at the huge pipe enter the body builder anus made him feel warmer and his heart started racing, and he also got quite the hard on and since he was wear compression shorts, the hard on was quite evident, Cameron never really felt any attraction to other men, but then again not much towards a woman either, the only that made his heart race was thinking about muscled physiques, he confused as to what he was feeling and how to interpret it but one he was sure about is that he liked it. Still with a hard on Cameron looked around him to see that all the men also had the same tubes probing them in them in the same places and the one at the bottom of the tanks, and all of them had information plates describing their weight, age, size etc. He really wanted to know what this place was so turned around and went back up the stairs to the control platform. He researched and looked, he went to books, papers and file after file on the monitors, he saw formulas, designs for machines, plans, schematics, theories and read document after document. He figured out that this place was built by a doctor L. J. Andrews privately and he was obsessed with ever larger muscular physiques, and he was designing a machine that could take muscles from one person and give it to another person, namely himself, and he went through a lot of research and development to design the method to achieve his goal, but ultimately although he finished successfully his research a couple of years ago he had to abandon it, even though the machine and formulas were done and correct, and he had “acquired” the donators for the muscle (acquired here meaning he kidnapped the 5 body builders) there was a major downside to the experiment, no matter how much he crunched the data and recalculated, there was only a 0.7% chance a subject could survive the muscle impregnation “there is less then 1% chance of survival?” Cameron muttered, a chill running down his spine. “There is more than 99% chance of dying if someone used this machine, no wonder the doctor abandoned it, I guess I should leave this buried away as I found it.” With that Cameron decided to leave that place. As he put the books and papers back into their places and closed the files on the various monitors, as he was closing the last file on the monitor next to the staircase that lead to down to the tanks, he accidently opened a control panel as he looked down at the tanks and pondered what it would be like to have a physique like that. Then as he was turning around he slipped on a patch of grease on the floor that he didn’t notice before, lunged his had forward to grab anything to keep him from falling down the stair, and he grabbed the screen he was working on but his hand slipped off of it and he tumbled down the stairs and rolled onto the floor below, he was dazed and disoriented from the bumps his head took and he didn’t notice he was laid out over the metal plate on the floor, as he was recollecting his thoughts and trying to figure out what happen he heard an audible *beep* and he felt a cold band stretch over his forehead and adjust tightly, he didn’t understand what was happening, suddenly two other cold bands also stretched over both his wrists and tightening down holding his arms in place just as the forehead band held his head down. As this was happening he finally came back to his senses, and then it hit him “fuck!! I must have pressed something when I grabbed the monitor!!”. He realised he might have turned on the machine with a less then 1% survival rate, and now he was stuck in it with no way to escaped! As he came to this morbid conclusion he felt something else happening which he directed his attention to. The plate on the floor he was strapped to started rising from the ground, it stopped at about 1m (about 3ft) above the floor, then one of the two tubes in the direction his feet were, started moving, it was the slender tube and it had a needle attachment, Cameron was scared but there was nothing he could do, he struggled and struggle and fought with the bands restraining him as the needle got closer to his body, but they wouldn’t come loose, so he had no choice but to resign himself to the situation and hope that he somehow makes it out alive as he laid on the cold examination table-like thing he was strapped to. The tube and needle reached up to about halfway to the side of his right thigh and pricked him and inject a small amount of a liquid with a blue hue to it and then receded back to its original position, the prick didn’t hurt too much and he was feeling drowsy or drugged Cameron wondered “well what is it going to do?” just as he finished that sentenced he felt the bands on wrists and head loosen up, and then they receded as well into the table. “Maybe the process takes place in stages, maybe I’ll be okay if I leave right now,” but after saying that and trying to get off the table he found himself unable to move his limbs. “What the fuck is going on here? Move. Move!” he yelled at his body but it didn’t he could only move his neck freely, his extremities seem to have been numbed by the injection, they felt normal in every way except they felt incredibly weak, like when your muscles are fatigued after you have worked them out extensively and you can’t even lift them up afterwards, that’s how they felt, and so he started worrying again and he remembered. “I forsake myself to it, guess I was just too happy that it stopped but I guess it’s not done yet with me yet,” he laid there for about a minute before something else happened. The second tube that was next to the one with the needle started moving, it was a much bigger tube, it was a dark grey colour, and it was as thick as the ones in the tanks that went in the anus of the body builders, and it had a strange attachment, and as it got closer he could make out what that attachment was, it was in the shape of a penis head, and the rest of the tube was ribbed with lines and bumps, making the whole length of the tube resemble the shaft of a penis, as it got closer to his body Cameron felt the table shifting, it moved his legs up from under the calves, into a position that resemble the position of sitting on a chair but on his back, and he realised the tube really was meant for his anus, he was scared just like before for the needle but a little voice in the back of his mind told him he wanted to try and know what it felt like, and his penis became erect in a second as he remembered what he felt when he saw it inside the bodybuilder, he was afraid but he wanted to feel it, the desire to experience it grew and grew, and before he knew he felt the cold tube shaped like a penis touch the outside of his anus, it was cold and sent shivers down his body. When the tube reached the outside of the anus it secreted a little bit of liquid that felt like gel so Cameron assumed it was lubrication, and then it really started, the machine started apply more pressure to open up the sphincter muscle, and it did, it finally reached the point where the anus couldn’t stay closed and the head popped right in and Cameron felt like something he never knew he could feel, it hurt a lot as it worked its way inside but it felt so good at the same time, it pried open his hole because of how wide the tube was but Cameron was enjoying and for a moment even thought, “Maybe this isn’t so bad,” a thought that quickly vanished as he felt the tube go deeper and deeper, it only hurt at the anus but he certainly felt it in his insides as it straightened the curves in his colon onto it until he was shocked to see it start to show as it protruded through his abs, and it protruded more and more till it finally stopped, it was pushing out onto his skin a full inch if not a little bit more, it didn’t hurt or feel like it hurt him in any ways but it was very incredible, Cameron sighed a sigh of relief since he thought the worst was over, but how wrong he was. A few minutes went by and nothing happened, but then out of nowhere he heard a machine start to make sound, it sounded like a pump to be exact, and he felt a little vibration inside from the tube he had in his abdomen, he knew something else was going to happen. And that’s when it really started. He saw body builder number 2 to his left side twitch slightly, and then the calf of the man suddenly shrunk down to just skin and bones! He gasped, it was unbelievable, the man’s huge left calf muscle, which looked to be at least 54cm (21inches) suddenly deflated, but then he noticed the tube that went into the man’s anus engorge at the anus, it was carrying a lump and transported it up until he couldn’t see it anymore, after a few seconds suddenly a lump appeared at the base of the tube that went inside Cameron “what is that?….” he thought to himself and the lump moved up the tube and it went inside him and he saw it then come the head that he could clearly see through his abdomen and the lump moved down his left leg and where his calf was and then suddenly engorged to four times the size of the lump in an very painful wave which made him cringe but he noticed suddenly he had developed calves that were about 41cm big (6 inches) and that’s when it hit him, the lump was the man’s calf and it transported it to his own body, albeit some of the size is lost in the process, then he noticed 4 other lumps consecutively show up moving up the tube and into his ass, which aroused him more as each one penetrated him, then he saw them come out the head of the tube into his abdomen and he watched as they started moving towards his left leg again under his skin, when he raised his head and looked at the legs of the other body builders he noticed they had all lost all the muscle mass in their left lower legs, and when he turned his view back to his left leg it was just as the 4 lumps merged and with a wave of pain started fusing and becoming his own muscle, the pain was like that of having a bone broken but localised to where the muscle was being absorbed only while at the same time feeling like having multiple orgasms one after another. It made Cameron grind his teeth and arch back with a tear flowing out of his eye, and his cock so hard and going wild ripped right through his compression shorts to full mast! And as the wave of pain and arousal subsided after about 6 seconds (the longest of his entire life) he was left breathing heavily and sweating profusely, then he looked down to be amazed at what happened, there was his left lower leg, with a 76cm (30inch) mass of muscle, he was amazed, awestruck by the sheer size, the striated muscle fibres visible through the skin, and the large bulging pumped up veins that covered it, it made his cock rage like a wild animal. It was beautiful. But as he was preoccupied admiring the beauty that had become part of his body the machine seemed to pick up the pace and started working faster. The sound of the machine working faster finally got Cam’s attention, as he looked up at the men he saw body builder 1 through 4 had deflated left upper legs, and as he reached body builder 5 he saw his left upper leg suddenly deflate too, all his thigh muscles just disappeared and he noticed the lump again exit his body through the tube, then he saw it start happening to the man’s right lower leg, then upper leg, and as he turned around it had happened to the other men as well, he knew what was coming next and he feared it yet desperately wanted to go through with it, the voice in his head that told him he wanted it had grown louder and louder and was overpowering the fear. Then the lumps started appearing, 4 of them in a file came up the tube and flowed into his asshole, arousing him and making his cock jerk, he saw them then protrude through his abdomen and start making their way to his left upper leg where they merged and again a surge of pain and pleasure flooded his system driving him wild as the muscle expanded and became part of his body, but Cam’s desire for the muscle was making him bare the pain so he could watch the wonderful thing that was happening to his body, his fear almost entirely subdued by the erotic desire to have those muscles. Cameron’s eyes were marvelled at what he saw, the muscle expanded and became his now 109cm (43 inch) left thigh, the sight made him reach orgasm and he cummed all over himself with more cum the he had ever seen before, then even though still partially lost in the pleasure more lumps appeared and started making their way to his right lower legs, then more lumps and at a faster rate started appearing, going to his upper legs, lower legs, left glute, right glute, each of his 8 individual abs, Apollo’s belt, left then his right pec, forearms, biceps, triceps, lats, delts, traps, each time making the muscle, or arms or legs contract with the expanding muscles. Every single individual muscle group, one after another, he saw as the muscles disappeared off of the bodies of the once body builders around him and come into his body and start being absorbed by him, every surge of unbelievable pain, every wave of erotic pleasure, he came again, and again, and again as the pleasure was unbearable as he saw his body parts engorge with monstrous mass, the muscle inflating like balloons, the muscle fibres showing through the paper-thin stretched skin, the veins growing, engorging and spreading all over his muscles, thickening with blood and testosterone from those 5 men, it was a sight to behold. When Cameron finally managed to came back to his senses after the thrill ride of pleasure he took, he was, needless to say, overjoyed by his body, muscles with size beyond what any mister Olympia could ever dream of achieving, veins as thick as ropes spread all over his muscles protruding and pulsating with blood, feeding them, all glistening from all the cum he shot over himself which only made his body more attractive, and the compression shorts you ask? Nowhere to be seen, they had exploded off of his engorging muscled body with only a few tatters stuck under his enormous glutes. Cameron was more than amazed and he was especially enjoying the huge veins that appear all over his muscles, he was covered in them, and they were massive and pulsated with testosterone, and the clearly visible muscle fibres that were clear as day to the eye, he loved it with all his might, but the ride wasn’t over just yet….. While Cam appreciated his new given body he noticed something weird start happening, the five tanks holding the now anorexic looking men that were once beautiful examples of muscle at its best. The five men started dissolving into the liquid and the liquid changed from transparent to a really thick-looking white almost gel-like substance. Then he heard an automated sounding voice from the computer say ‘DNA impregnation complete, beginning stage 2’ “WHAT? I’ve only gone through stage one yet, after all of this?!” he exclaimed, when he saw two much larger bulges move up the pipe that went inside of him, they were coming together in a pair, one next to each other and he felt them stop right at his anus, he then turned his attention up above his head where he heard rattling and as he turned his eyes upwards he saw the pipe dangling from above with the weird attachment, which was just like the cock head attachment the one inside him has, start moving down. He was again afraid yet again uncertain of what might happen next, his heart racing, and him body sweating profusely yet again. He tried to move his head since the pipe was coming straight down at his face when the band which had previously retracted appeared again and held his forehead firmly down, there was no avoiding it. The cockhead shaped nozzle of the tube touched Cam’s lips after it made its way down next to Cam’s head then up again to meet his mouth which he refused to open and allow it to enter, so the pressure increased more and more and his lips finally gave way, the long, thick, rubbery tube made its way into his mouth, reach the back of his throat, but before his gag reflects could even kick in it made its way down his throat and it kept going down, more and more as he saw more of it disappear in front of him into his mouth, he guessed he had swallowed about 30cm (1 foot) of it before it stopped, then like in unison both machines started doing something…… The one that had violated his now rock hard bubble ass and protruded through his now steel cut solid 8-pack abs started retreating from his ass, he was relieved thinking the approximately 40cm (16 inches) of tube that was inside of him was finally leaving his body, but as the head was just about to leave his hole, the machine re-adjusted itself to a more pronounced 90° angle and started making its way back inside, until it reached the base of Cam’s hard cock with a painful pressure, then the pressure increased and it hurt more and more, then he felt a really hot sensation in his crotch like he was in a hot bath, and although in pain he saw something amazing, the tube’s cockhead started expanding and entering the base of his cock, his eyes couldn’t believe it, as he bit his lips from the pain, but he wouldn’t stop looking at what was happening, it made its way painfully up the shaft stretching it to the 14cm (5 inch) circumference of the tube, and he saw the thicker and wider head leading the way, stretching and engorging it until it reach and stretched the 7inch cockhead of Cam’s penis, then the pain increased as it started stretched longer, and longer, it went on and on but it did so while sending waves of pleasure to Cam’s brain, it was delicious, it stretched to a full rock hard, massive length of 40cm (16inches) then stopped when the two large bulges, each about the size of an orange, were absorbed into the ball sack, and as it was absorbed, ropes of veins grew onto them and he started feeling the breeze on his stiff hot dick, it had become part of his body as well Cameron realised in a disbelieving yet still joyous shock. This huge, thick, hot, hard piece of man meat, was all his, he jerked it to see if it was true and it jerked, it was more than he ever dreamed off. The rest of the tube that was behind the huge bulges that became his balls, retreated outside to their original position next to the needle. That’s when a different noise caught Cam’s attention “There is still more?” he thought to himself, but without any fear now, he was now determined to see this through, this accident had given him the muscles and the cock he could only ever dream off, he wants it all now and he going to thoroughly enjoy it. It seems the muscles and cock not only enhanced his body but also his ego had been boosted up, and he liked it. Then he noticed the white liquid that formed from the men who were once in the tanks starting draining, the level was going down inside the tanks, when he felt the tube that went down his throat start vibrating a little and so he looked up. He saw through the transparent tube a white liquid moved downwards in the tube and it went into his mouth and he felt the flow of the liquid through his throat and as it pumped out into his chest, and he felt something strange, but in his pecs, so he looked at them and saw them swelling and pulsating and it plunge him into an orgasmic thrill ride of pleasure, it was a magnificent sensation, and he arched back from how erotic it felt while his mammoth dick jerked up and down. The tube kept pumping the liquid inside of him and into his pecs and the pecs swelled to twice their size then stop swelling but kept contracting with every massive pump into them, and Cam’s from the corner of his eye even though he was barely able to think from the pleasure he was in could see the tanks slowly drain empty, which took he could only guess was around half an hour, half an hour of toe curling, orgasmic bliss, when it started to subside he was surprised he managed to stay sane after en experience like that, and slowly the pleasure started dying down and the pumps became less intense, which is when he finally noticed that his pecs did not shrink down, but stayed at the doubled size, and looked gorgeously tight and hard, but his nipples had grown to almost triple their thickness and protruded more than 2 cm (1 inch) now and were as stiff as a hot cock. As he admired them he felt the tube retreating from him and as the head left his mouth the last bit of the liquid that was left in the tube, about a litre, pour into his mouth filling it up and then pour all over his face, and it tasted like warm, deliciously sweet and salty honey as he swallowed it down, and he recognised the smell and knew it right away that it was steamy cum, he never tasted it before or anything that tasted as delicious, it was all over his rosy lips and felt good on his face. At the same time the part of the table holding his legs up in the air lowered back down, and as it did he was regaining the feeling back in his legs and arms, and he tried to move, and he did, he managed to get off of the table and the first thing he could bring himself to do was touch himself, touch himself all over, feel the muscles up, grasp his beastly pecs and dig his fingers into the solid flesh, slide his fingers over the striations on his legs, to pas his hand over his marble abs, to feel up the ropes of veins on his 40 cm (16 inch) cock, to grope his massive balls bigger than a baseball each. All of this massively aroused him which is when he felt his chest and abs start getting wet and he looked down at his shelf-like pecs and saw something fantastic, cum was coming out of his nipples in a stream, and grabbed his left pec and squeezed and a long squirt came out of it, more than 10 times as cum in that squirt then in a regular man’s ejaculation. He squeezed again this time catching the cum and he doesn’t know why but an almost euphoric hunger came from within him for that cum and licked it all clean off of his hand, and it was delicious, so he squeezed again, and again, and again, licking it up each time, and each time the quantity increased until every squirt released about half a cup of cum, yet his pecs didn’t shrink down, nor did it feel like it was running out of cum, it just kept producing more until it satisfied his hunger. As he finished up his meal Cameron looked to the stairs for a way out, to go out into the world as a new man, and enjoy every moment of his new life. His new life of monstrous muscles, that no man would ever be able to match or surpass again, and to be the epitome of lust, beauty and strength. The End........ ?
  23. He was minding his own business. Private Roger, just finished his meal, and was preparing to retire to his dormitory. Crossing a path, he was struck by some drops of rain, I better hurry inside, he thought. Arriving at his destination, and about to take off his uniform, it happened. He didn’t know, then, but it weren’t drops of rain who have fallen into him. Something special was spilled in his skin, and it triggered something massive. He started to contort in pain, and with his arms pending, he shouted in pain. It was happening. No turning back. Roger felt a terrible feeling in his guts, and desperately prayed to be spared from whatever was going on with his body. With tears in his eyes, he started to grow. Growing faster by the minute, Roger wanted it all to be over, but his transformation was only beginning. His uniform, who fitted him very well, already started to tighten around him, his muscles were growing, he couldn’t notice, as he was focused in the pain that his body was immersed in. As he screamed, his voice started to get deeper. The change on his tone was but one small change on the metamorphosis happening in him. His uniform was tearing apart now, revealing more and more of his ever more muscular body. He was covered in sweat, and the artificial lights were being reflected on his skin. His pectoralis got thicker, stronger, more robust, more incredibly powerful as seconds ran by, and his abs were thickening also, deep ravines between each one, at the end, this strong piece of muscle got fully exposed. And as he got more muscular, with ever thicker, ever more muscular arms and shoulders, tearing his clothes apart, something internal was happening. He started to feel a strange sort of pleasure with the pain. Strange and in massive waves. His cock awoke and was now expanding fast, tearing through his already shredded trousers. He tried to keep himself together, but his face was deformed by pain, and also by pleasure, he groaned and roared, uncertain what to feel, as his manhood dropped precum on the floor. After waves of strong transformation, it momentarily stopped. He could see the changes in his body more attentively now. He saw his dogtags glued to his left chest by a thick cover of sweat, with a strong smell of testosterone. He saw his pec ravines, his nips pending down in such a powerful, even sexual way. He saw his face, remodeled, a deep strong jaw he had, all his muscles developed to the max. His arms, so big, so veiny, so elegant yet so brute. His shoulders, that were now pressing his equally thick neck, competing for space, his abs, his legs, his... cock, yes, even his fucking cock was developed to levels he only dreamt of. ”Fuck. Roger is... I mean... I’m huge.” Before he could think, his strong sexual urges spoke louder, and he had to relieve himself. He played with his cock, caressing the exposed helmet, the body of it, hard as stone, his sensitive veins about to blow up. He played with his whole body, caressing himself, licking the sweat, touching his strong nips, so big, so beautiful, so sensitive! His whole body was a machine of pleasure, and he fucking loved it, was the only thing he could think about. Finally, after this frenzy, he came, jets and jets of cum hit the walls, the ceiling, formed gooey puddles on the floor. It seemed like things were done for him. But they weren’t. Claiming the strength of the Gods to himself, he teared what was left of his uniform and stroke his dick even further. As he was embedded by pleasure, his changes deepened. He got horns in his head, that got passed his skull. He got strong spikes of bone going through his back. His eyes turned red and black, and his voice devolved to a growl. Grunting, roaring, begging for more. The creature once known as Roger was ready to claim his place with the Gods. And still, he could only say in the end. ”Fuck. Roger so Big.”
  24. musclefreak95

    muscle growth Satan’s tattoo shop part 1

    This is my first story on here so with me luck James was small for his age, he was 20 but at a height of 5’5 and with a weight of 100lb he looked younger than he actually was. He had been reading in a men’s magazine that many men get tattoos as they make them more manly. So building up the courage he had booked a session at a small local tattoo shop. The day of the appointment had came and he was nervous. “Why did I think this was a good idea” he muttered to himself as he walking along the pavement head to the floor. James stopped and looked up he had arrived a small store front lay in front of him as black as the night sky with red ascents. With a neon sign saying Satan’s tattoo shop hanging above him James grabbed the handle and pushed it opening the door as he opened it he was wafted with a smell of tattoo ink, sweat and something else James couldn’t quite name the smell. James made his way to a black leather sofa and took a seat around him on the walls lay photos and designs of tattoos of different types some Asian, black and white, some mystical in nature but most with a demonic tone to them. In the back ground there was a strong buzzing sound as some one was getting a tattoo. Looking up from his phone James notices a shadow even in the dimly lit room of the reception area, he looked up to see a 7 foot tall muscle beast of a man with thighs as big as red wood trees and muscles bigger than any man. “Hi my name is Derek “ he booms in a deep voice “Hi my names James “ he squeals sinking further into the leather sofa ”nice to meet you James, I saw your name on our list” Derek reaches his muscled arm out to shake James is hand flexing is gigantic arm without meaning to. Reaching out his hand Jame’s is hand is swamped by the baseball mitt sized hands of Derek “ yea it’s my first session today I’m quite nervous actually “ he says in a high pitched voice “There’s no need to be nervous “ boomed the muscle beast as he showed James to the tattoo chair “ here we go, take a seat” said Derek in a calm voice James sits on the chair as Derek brings up a stool “So what are you looking to get?” That is the end of part 1
  25. Host: Hello everyone and welcome to another season of "Gainers". I am your host Freddi Fit and you may remember me from becoming the muscle alpha I am today on our very first season just three years ago. *Freddi Fit raises a double bicep flex, stretching his button down short sleeves to their limit. "After all, who can forgot that glorious moment when I was voted to steal everything from Hank The Tank who had been growing massive all season. It was a major upset and the audience was ready to see a new alpha show that brute a lesson. Since then I've been living the dreams as America's hunkiest bodybuilder. Well tonight this dream begins once again with 8 brand new contestants. After twelve weeks, one of them will be left with a hulking body while the others leave smaller than they came. And like always, every week you the audience will decide who gets what. Now let's not waste any time here and meet our contestants. Screen switches to contestant video number one. A nineteen year old college wrestler named Cam. "Hey everyone! The name is Cameron, or Cam for short. I've been wrestling for six years and I can't wait to show the other men who the real jock is gonna be. Maybe if you're lucky you might even see me put some of them in headlocks and drain the muscle from them." Screen switches to contestant video number two. A 39 year old college professor who has been working out for many years. "Hello everyone, it Max here. I've been a health science teach for about 10 years and have always wanted more in life. I'm hoping to win and become the next leading model for muscle god magazine. Either way, I'm hoping to teach the other men a thing or two about what it means to be blessed with muscle." Screen switches to contestant number 3. A 24 year old ex fire fighter who recently begun a modeling career. "If you thought fighting fires was hot, wait till you see me on nothing but my suspenders. Hey everyone my names chad. Make sure you vote for me this season so I can become the muscular flame that makes you sweat." Screen switches to contestant number 4. A 31 year old cop from NYC. "Hey. It's Stu. I've been lifting ever since becoming a cop, but to keep the streets safe, I'm going to need your help to grow my guns and have the fire power needed to intimidate the bad guys and fight crime." Screen switches to contestant number 5. A 27 year old businessman. "Hello everyone, being a businessman keeps me quite busy. So I'm going to need your help building these muscles as big as they can get so I can really fill out my suites nicely! By the way, the name is Dominique." Screen switches to contestant number 6. A 42 year old father. "Hello everyone. My name Ken. Before I had children I was in pretty good shape. However since then I've begun to get out of shape. I need your help to be bigger and better than I was when I was younger." Screen switches to contestant number 7. A 21 year old college graduated pursuing a career in acting. "Hey y'all. Zac here. I've been trying to make it big as an actor but you know they are looking for muscular guys these days. Help me become a jacked up actor." Screen switches to contestant number 8. A 25 year old man living in his parents house. "Hi everyone. I'm Tony, and I've been having a really hard time finding a job. Can you help me you help me out and give me the chance to pursue a career in fitness and get the hell out of my parents house. They'd really appreciate it as well!" Tony is clearly the smallest guy. Although he still has slight hints of muscle, there isn't much for the others to take. Host: "Well don't we just have a great batch this year. The group will be entering the growth cell now where they will spend the next 12 weeks changing. Go online now to vote for your top 4 favorite guys who will receive a special serum boost tomorrow night to start off the game. And don't forget to send in your nicknames for each dude. The most votes will decide what we call each contestant from here on. Anyways. Goodnight Gainer fans! Freddi Fit signing off!" *Freddie fit solutes the camera and transitions in to an archer pose as the credits roll.*
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