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Transformation Part I: Mutation - Chapter Three


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Previous Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1194-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-two/





I passed through the entrance to the Eagle as I had dozens of times before. The bar was dark and quiet – naturally as it was late on a Sunday night. The urgent, throbbing beat of tech house music mixed through the alcohol and sweat laden air. My cock twitched in my skin-tight jeans. I could feel my balls pressing against the denim. I was there to fuck.


The downstairs appeared empty save for the bartender across the room. His broad back was turned to me. Long, dark hair spilled across his shoulders and almost to his waist. Huge triceps stretched the arms of his black t-shirt. I didn’t recognize him. It didn’t matter.


As I approached, a thickly muscled Asian kid in a wife-beater jogged down the stairs at the back. I guessed he was 25 at most – clean-shaven with a flattop. Beautiful. He saw me – shirtless, bulging, massive. “Whoa,” he said simply as he stopped.


The bartender turned around. Though to my right, I could see that he was bearded with big pecs and shoulders and a bigger gut. But I was focused on the muscle boy. Even in the dim lighting I could tell that he had perfect skin. Smooth. Soft. His face was square, strong, and handsome. I walked up to him and reached behind his neck. He began to tremble.


“It’s okay,” I said gently. “I’m going to give you what you want.”


He relaxed and dropped to his knees and began gnawing at my bulging crotch, licking and biting and sucking through the denim. Blood surged into my cock and it swelled, pressing against my jeans, providing a larger mound for him to chew on, expanding as his teeth caressed it. I could feel it become almost impossibly hard, so big and thick, thrusting until it tore through the spit and pre-cum soaked denim and plunged directly into his wide-open mouth.


Somewhere in the distance I heard a deep voice shout “FUCK,” but I was too lost in the bliss of the boy servicing my powerful tool to pay attention. Then I felt my pants being torn away and a second pair of lips, another tongue, lapping and sucking hungrily on my ball sack. “Aww, yeah…” I moaned with approval, but I had something else in mind.


Minutes later they were both gagged and bent over, hands tied to their feet, bare asses in the air. I stood some distance behind them, naked save for my heavy boots, and admired their butts. Both had large, full glutes, but the bartender’s were thick with hair while the kid’s were completely smooth with only a hint of peach fuzz. My fully engorged cock bounced with my heartbeat, so hard it felt as if it were welded onto my skeleton – unbendable, unyielding. Pre-cum oozed from the engorged head and dripped onto the floor.


I strode toward their waiting asses, keenly aware of the weight of my organ as it swung side to side. I slammed it into the boy’s hole, ignoring his muffled cry as I felt it stretch further around the fat base of my cock, tightly wrapping my tool, caressing it with the velvety smooth heat it deserved.


I could hear his grunts as I pounded his ass, giving him what he so desperately needed, taking what was mine until I had loaded him with my cum and moved on to the bartender. And when I finished with him I moved on to the next waiting hole, for more men had appeared, all bound and gagged, in a circle around me, waiting for their chance to pleasure me.


It wasn’t until I had reached the fourth man that I became aware that I was somehow still fucking the first three concurrently, for the physical sensation and pleasure continued to increase as I moved around the circle. I somehow knew what was happening, and my cock and balls surged with power. I threw my arms into the air and flexed as I thrust repeatedly and accepted my role as Alpha Stud of humanity. Suddenly, I was fucking every man in the bar simultaneously, satisfying them as only I could, feeling the dozens of holes worship my mighty cock, filling them from the infinite reservoir of my jism, until the joy of my orgasm grew so powerful that I...


My body spasmed in my bed, cum surging from my raging erection, grunting, almost yelling as the bed shook with the most intense orgasm of my life. Fully a minute later, I found myself flat on my back on soaking wet sheets, covered with sweat and my own cum, my heart slamming against my ribcage, my head spinning with the aftershocks of the dream and orgasm. I again wondered what that hell was going on, simultaneously thrilled with the sexual prowess that I now seemed to possess but confused by the lack of control I had over what was happening to me.


I replayed the dream in my mind. I remembered it clearly, even the many butts that I had plowed, some hairy, some not, some perfectly white and flawless like Matt’s, some dark – hair and skin of many colors, all desperate for me to dominate them.


I flushed, embarrassed at the arrogance of my subconscious. Alpha Stud of humanity? As impossibly hot and desirable as that sounded – and felt – it certainly was not me. I just wanted everyone to get along, to live and let live ... and fuck as much as I could.


“You know you’re a master stud, right?” Matt had asked me yesterday. I sat up and shook my head. It was time to get to work.


I stood up and felt my cock swing. It was still erect and I looked down at the fully engorged organ. “Do you mind?” I asked it, exasperated. Yet I continued to study it, watching it bob slightly in rhythm with my heart, so thick and robust looking, veins wrapping around the mighty shaft...


Mighty? Where did that come from? I had never thought of my cock as mighty or anything special. It was just my cock.


I wrapped my fingers around it – they didn’t even come close to closing around the throbbing pole. It really is bigger, I admitted, which of course caused it to surge larger still. I found myself stroking it, enjoying its extreme hardness and heft, wondering why no one was at my feet begging to worship it...


“STOP!” I yelled out loud. My heart was pounding again, only this time with fear. I was losing myself, and despite the overwhelming need to satisfy my lust, I forcefully cleared my mind and jumped in the shower. Water – as cold as possible. Wash – as fast as possible. Dress – as fast as possible and in the largest Carhartt pants I have. Do not look in the mirror...


As I began to leave for work, I saw the mechanical scale still sitting in front of the closet door. I found myself walking toward it and with some trepidation stepped on. The dial spun and bounced: 255. I smiled and sighed with relief. I wore boots, jeans and a t-shirt. Given the weight of my clothing, I had lost a few pounds overnight.


I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Air in. Air out. Air in. Air out. I was not losing my mind. I am in control. Air in. Air out. Air in. Air out. I then stepped down, grabbed my hardhat and backpack, and was off to the job site.


*  *  *


People stared openly as I moved down the busy SoHo sidewalk, but I ignored the attention. I walked, or more like waddled, as quickly as possible and with imaginary blinders on. No eye contact. No acknowledgement. Do not look at anyone. Once again I felt fear. I had long drawn more than my share of attention, but this was ridiculous. I checked my shirt and pants, wondering if I had put them on inside out. Fly open? No. I checked my face in the window of a parked truck – it looked normal. I was fifteen pounds heavier – why would that generate so much attention? Even Hank, who was far larger than me, did not create such a distraction.



Hank and I stepped onto the busy Church Street sidewalk, coffees in hand. The morning was clear and mild and we began walking through the broad canyon of low-rise buildings toward the neo-classical Saint Peter’s Church. I briefly fell behind so that I could check out his ass but ended up watching, impressed, as many oncoming pedestrians afforded him wide berth. While this was Manhattan, land of the most jaded of pedestrians, few were above moving out of the path of a super heavyweight bodybuilder. Some of the men gave him a thumbs up. A few even knew his name.


I felt invisible in his wake, but also inspired. At five foot ten and 210 ripped pounds, I was pretty built, but before we even reached Barclay Street I had decided to get as big as possible. I quickly caught up with him.


“Mind if I train with you sometime?” I asked.


“But you ain’t even poked me yet.” He winked.


That made me smile. “Maybe I like to get poked.”


He rolled his eyes. “Oh, no. I recognized you. Why do you think I stopped at that coffee shop?”


I found Big Red’s recognition flattering, but somehow I had never seen him before. “You have me at a disadvantage,” I said.


“Let’s just say we have a mutual friend and that your rep precedes you.”


I wondered who our ‘mutual friend’ was and laughed. “Really? I have a rep?”


“And I can smell a good top a mile away,” he said. “There’s only one of you in each borough, you know.”


‘Which leaves all of Manhattan to me’ was the obvious comeback, but before I could say it, the familiar roar of an approaching jet aircraft filled the air. Familiar, but much too loud. I instinctively looked up. A commercial jet was almost directly overhead and at an insanely low altitude. Goosebumps rose on my entire body and even as I watched, the jet slammed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center, enveloping the upper floors in a ball of flame. I briefly turned to Hank. “Holy shit did you see that?” I exclaimed. To my amazement, he was tying his shoe.


An instant later, the sound of the explosion reached us and adrenaline flooded my body. “Down!” I yelled as I shoved Hank to the street behind a parked truck. Just as I covered him with my body, debris began falling around us.



I continued along the sidewalk. People – men, women, children – parted and stared. My shirt and pants were tighter than usual, but I’d seen tighter. Something very strange was happening and I found myself wishing I were invisible. Again anxious to get away from the public, I jogged the remaining blocks to work and as I reached the job site, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Matt.


Hey Big Guy – we are heading to Brooklyn for the day. Walking across the bridge. Having pizza I think. Can’t stop thinking about you. Can I see you tonight?


I grinned as I pictured his beautiful, bearded face. So handsome and sweet. His blue eyes adoring as he looked at me. My cock sprang to life in my pants.


I panicked and shoved the phone back in my pocket. Immediately, I broke out in a cold sweat. My cock had become some kind of problem child, impossible to control and ready to cause trouble. And people were staring at me, gawking. While pretending to study my phone, I could see every head turn in my peripheral vision. Every head. A few people, mostly men, appeared to struggle to keep moving. Why?


Except that I knew the answer. I could feel it surfacing from my subconscious, yet I shoved it away, too terrified to face the reality. Still on the busy sidewalk, I looked up at the steel skeleton of the new building rising above the temporary wooden safety wall and focused on it. Today is all about you, I said to the unfinished structure.


I put on my vest, belt and hardhat and entered the jobsite, and for four hours I was able to think only about work. The other guys on the project did pay attention to me more than usual, but I was able to block them out. A few of my buddies asked if I had put on weight and just told them I was doing a cycle, which seemed to satisfy them. It wasn’t until lunch that I realized that not only was I not hungry, but I hadn’t eaten in almost 24 hours. I briefly considered grabbing a bite anyway, but instead found myself walking over the staging area for the steel beams that had yet to be prepared for placement. It was hot again, but the sun felt so good that I made sure it was on me as much as possible all morning. The steel was hot from baking for several hours. I removed my shirt and leaned back against it, stretching luxuriously like a cat in a beam of sunlight.


Mark, my supervisor, shook me awake. “Jamal, you okay?”


I opened my eyes and sat up. “Sorry, man,” I blurted out reflexively. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I jumped to my feet. My pants were uncomfortably tight, again. I felt pumped – again – and I broke out in a cold sweat, again. I’ve put on more weight, again. This time, I was keenly aware of it. I knew what it felt like now. I estimated I was again ten to fifteen pounds heavier.


Mark was a big man – not a bodybuilder, but he wasn’t a stranger to the gym either. We had trained together years ago, until he got married and became a father. He was bearded, tattooed, and had long gray and brown hair. People often thought he was a biker, though (like me) he had never even been on one.


“Fuck,” he said as he stared at me, almost trance-like. “What a stud.” I could feel him devour me with his eyes, especially my torso, arms and crotch, until I felt it begin to grow. I nodded and headed back to the scissor lift. “I gotta take a leak bad, man,” I said as I began running away.


“Hey, wait,” he called after me. “I need to show you something in the office.”


I didn’t stop. I knew what he wanted to show me. His ass. He was a completely straight man. He had never displayed any issue with gays, but never displayed any desire for men either. Yet he wanted me to fuck him. Somehow, I knew this, and it was right. Everyone needs me to fuck them. They need my muscles and cock to show them who’s boss. They crave the reassurance of my dominance. I am the Alpha Stud, after all.


I stopped in my tracks, my heart racing in renewed panic. Where are these thoughts coming from? Even my mind was betraying me, and as my erection strained against the heavy denim of my pants and a part of me observed in terror, I knew that I would fuck Mark. I turned around and faced him. He was already walking toward me, my shirt, hat and vest in hand. I had left them on the girder.


My cock throbbed powerfully in the confines of my jeans in anticipation and his eyes locked onto the huge bulge as he approached. His jaw dropped. “Please,” he said, once again looking me in the eye. His expression was pleading.


Minutes later, I stood in the office in the temporary building with my jeans around my ankles, pre-cum dripping from my raging erection onto Mark’s face as he knelt before me. His complete submission was intensely arousing and felt perfectly natural.


He desperately craved my dominance. The look in his eyes was clear. The complete awe with which he gazed up at my long, fat, throbbing cock and massive, hairy body was clear. Mark needed to worship me, to demonstrate his submission to the Alpha Stud.


Long, fat, throbbing cock. My cock wasn’t long. Except that it was now. It had grown again along with the rest of me. And after several minutes of watching the continuous strand of my pre-cum pour onto Mark’s face and collect in his mustache and beard, I felt it was time.


“I’m going to give you what you need,” I said. “Stand and bend over your desk.”


He dropped his pants and I wasted no time in forcing the head of my pre-cum lubed cock into his virgin hole. He gasped and his breathing became labored. His hole was so tight that I blew my wad twice during the several minutes it took to drive it all the way in. Between watching my fat tool disappear into his ass, knowing how much I was stretching him out with my superior manhood, and the intense physical pleasure of feeling him wrapped tightly around my tool, I couldn’t stop myself from shooting. I remained amazed at how quickly I could recharge, but on the other hand I knew that was how it was supposed to be. I slid the length of my cock in and out of his ass, reveling in the sensation of his sphincter gripping my rod. In. Out. In. Out. His groans increased in volume. In. Out. In. Out. I smiled. I am the Alpha Stud. I am giving him what he needs. What they all need. And this is my reward.


“You all exist for me to fuck,” I heard myself say as the heat and pressure in my loins reached the tipping point.


“YES!” he agreed. “UGH!” And with that, Mark’s spasming cock was spraying all over the side of his desk as I used his hips to pull him flush against me, sinking my great fuck pole in to the hilt, again pumping another of my enormous loads into his intestine.


Minutes later, my cock was still rammed up his ass. “I don’t know what happened,” he said sheepishly. “But I don’t want you to pull out.”


“I know,” I said as I gently extracted my long cock, listening to Mark grunt as I withdrew. “But we should get back to work.”


We both pulled up our jeans. “How are we supposed to work with you around?” he asked.


This truly puzzled me. “What?”


He sat down at his desk and grimaced. “Fuck, it burns,” he said. “How long will it hurt?”


The conversation was surreal. I shrugged my shoulders. “I really don’t know. A day or so?”


“Anyway, you’re not the same,” he said. He began sliding the supplies and papers back into place on his desk. His supervisor hat was on once again. “I’ve been watching you and the guys all morning. You’ve been working like a machine, but everyone around you is distracted, including me. We can’t focus. I know I sure as hell can’t.”


I threw my hands up and began pacing between the water cooler and the wastebasket by the door. “I don’t know what’s happening, Mark. I’m getting bigger for no reason I can see. Everyone is staring at me. I mean, we’re men, we like to be big and strong, right? I shouldn’t complain, but it’s freaking me out. Because ... because...” I stopped and faced him. “Because I have no control over it. I’m not doing it. It’s just happening.”


Neither of us spoke for a few minutes. I looked at him and wondered how much longer I would have a job, while he just stared at me. Then his eyes glazed over. Here it comes again, I thought.


“Fuck, you’re huge,” he said.


I sighed and turned away.


“You need to be worshipped,” he said reverently.


I spun around again, “NO! What I need is a job!” But already I felt my cock stir and begin expanding upward toward my navel, thickening and lengthening until the head pushed beyond my belt, pre-cum already oozing from the piss slit. “Shit. No no no no NO!” I said as I pushed it back into my pants and redirected it to the side even as it continued to swell.


“It’s fuckin’ huge,” he said in awe. “It certainly wants to be worshipped.”


“What I want is a JOB,” I yelled irritably.


Mark blinked and shook his head. “Look,” he said, apparently himself once again. “Take the rest of the day off – ”


“But – ”


He held his hand up. “Just listen. You’re way ahead of schedule. Come back tomorrow. Wear something ... big. Big and baggy.” He looked at me again. “Very big. Huge. And we’ll take it from there.”


I walked home without my shirt, for it had torn as I tried to put it back on. I ignored the stares and cameras and pleas for attention. A few blocks from home, someone approaching me actually dropped to his knees directly in my path and to my horror, my cock immediately began to swell. I began running, desperate to have some privacy again, until I was off the sidewalk and in the entryway of my building. I stopped, expecting to be winded.


I wasn’t.


Once inside my apartment, I made a beeline for the kitchen and pulled a bottle of tequila out of the cabinet, removed the top, and chugged the remaining third of the liquor.


I just stood there, bottle in hand, heart pounding not with exertion but panic, and waited for the alcohol to work its magic. Ten minutes passed. I stripped down to nothing and looked at the mechanical scale as if it were already the bearer of bad news. 260, I thought. 265, tops.


The phone rang and I hurriedly dug it out of my backpack. I recognized the area code as I felt the tequila hit. It was Matt’s cell. I hadn’t responded to his text. I began to accept the call but froze.


It rolled to voicemail.




Next Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1318-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-four/

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I'm loving re-reading this story -- and can't wait for more!


Thanks, arpeejay. I'm making progress on Chapter 15 right now. It's nice to get reacquainted with my characters again after all this time. I actually missed them :-)

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