m/m Transformation Part I: Mutation - Chapter Six

[Fulano]

Previous Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1402-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-five/

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

The 30-amp, 240-volt service feeding into my chest from the clothes dryer outlet in my apartment wasn’t the same as the service at the job site, but it still delivered great pleasure. While wearing my black rubber gloves, I held one wire against my left nipple and the other to my right and simply stood there in front of the laundry closet, savoring the power as it flowed into me. My entire body tingled as it grew larger and denser, especially my skin, muscles, cock and balls.

 

Hank knelt before me, sucking the fully engorged head of my throbbing, hard as steel cock, swallowing the semen that continually poured forth. Matt, meanwhile, had spent the past hour caressing the entirety of my massively muscled body – running his eager hands across the bulging masses of my back, shoulders, traps and arms, kissing the immense globes of my ass and calves, hugging the thick trunks of my upper legs. Somehow, neither of them was electrocuted; unlike that morning, my body wasn’t allowing any of the energy to go to waste.

 

One of the changes I had noticed was my ability to build to ever more intense and powerful climaxes, and for the past hour that was exactly what had been happening. I had been ready to unleash my cum torrent before I left work and now the need was an order of magnitude greater. I was about to tell Matt to join Hank at my feet when he confirmed something that I had suspected since arriving home.

 

“You’re taller!” He exclaimed from behind me. “Whoa, I think you’re a bit taller than me now!”

 

I heard him, but the significance of what he said didn’t hit me yet. I was so consumed with the orgasmic bliss of my impending release that all else was obliterated. He must have sensed the imminent climax because at some point I was dimly aware of him kneeling next to Hank.

 

I was redefining hyper-masculinity and virility each day. My massive body was growing more muscular, stronger and magnificent each day. My already legendary sexual prowess was now at a level so extreme that surely every man alive combined would pale next to me. The pressure in my loins grew so powerful that my entire body began vibrating, the heat so intense it felt white-hot.

 

My last conscious act was to put the wires in my mouth so that my worshippers wouldn’t be accidentally injured. I seized my massive cock in my powerful hands, felt the impossibly hard tool throbbing and vibrating wildly, the thick veins that wrapped around it pulsing and expanding...

 

... and a single thought, suppressed for the last two days, escaped my subconscious. Something I knew with absolute certainty and clarity, as if it were programmed into the very fabric of the universe...

 

THE WORLD WILL BEG TO WORSHIP AT MY FEET

 

... then, throwing my head back and roaring at the top of my lungs, I came. Everything went white.

 

 

I remained still for another few minutes, half resigned to letting myself suffocate there under the truck, until I remembered the dust masks. I had put them in my backpack only hours before. I located them by feel and pulled one out, removed it from the plastic wrap and placed it over my face. I inhaled, pulled it away and exhaled, coughing and forcing as much dust out of myself as I could, replaced the mask and repeated. After another minute, I imagined I could smell diesel fumes. ‘Imagined’ because my nose and mouth were still so caked with dust that I could barely breathe, let alone smell. But it was enough to get me moving again.

 

I rolled out from under the other side of the vehicle and began walking in what I hoped was the correct direction. I had no idea where Hank had gone, and my heart fell as I realized we hadn’t even exchanged contact info. My eyes, nose and throat burned and my shin ached. The dust was clearing, and I could see well enough to know that I didn’t want to see.

 

The world had turned to ash. The air glowed with a dim orange light. All objects were gray. Vehicles, walls, people. I realized I was near a corner with a street sign and limped over to read it: West Broadway. West Broadway and what? The cross street wasn’t identified on that corner and I couldn’t see well enough to recognize anything. But wherever I was, it was still too close.

 

I started out from the sign catty corner across the intersection. It seemed to take an eternity to reach the opposite corner. I felt trapped in an apocalypse. The occasional muted crash and boom in the distance made me jump. Cries and sirens filled the air. I wondered if we were at war, if someone had attacked us. Perhaps the jet had been shot down.

 

I finally reached the other side: Barclay. Somehow I had ended up only a block away from the North Tower – even closer than when I had started. But I knew West Broadway was one way inbound. I headed the opposite way – north.

 

Perhaps half a block later I heard a woman whimpering. I turned my head to the right and saw someone curled up against a building. I moved to investigate. She was covered in blood, which was in turn coated with ash. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. I imagined that she was a zombie except that zombies don’t cry and ask for help.

 

It was impossible to determine her age through the layers of blood and ash. Her hoarse voice didn’t help. I gave her my other dust mask.

 

“I think my ankle is broken,” she said. Her voice was a croak. “Something fell on my legs and I crawled here but my knees hurt so much...” Her broken voice broke even more.

 

“I’m Jamal. What’s your name?”

 

“Karen.”

 

“Okay, Karen,” I said. “Can I help you get away from here?”

 

She nodded. Squatting down, I took her into my arms, stood and started walking.

 

She wasn’t heavy to begin with, but that changed quickly. I had figured I could make it a few blocks but that proved optimistic. After perhaps a block, I set her down on the sidewalk, so disappointed with myself that I grew angry. I could barely breathe, which didn’t help, but I had no doubt Hank could have carried her much more easily. I resolved to get as big as he was, and find him – if I survived.

 

I sat down next to her. “I’m so sorry,” I said as I tried to gasp for breath through a mask in a dust cloud. What kind of man was I if I couldn’t escort one injured person to safety? “You’re not catching me at my best.”

 

She started laughing, which sounded more like a cough, but I felt relieved. She looked at me, and through the layers of blood, dust and pain, smiled. She had a nice smile. “Same here, but I think I can manage if I just lean on you.”

 

I nodded, and after taking another breath, helped her up only to catch her again as she fell. “I can’t. It hurts too much!” She said. The pain in her voice was clear and I winced in sympathy.

 

Then the ground began vibrating and the sky began to roar.

 

 

I opened my eyes. I was standing in my apartment. The wires were still in my mouth. My body continued to tingle happily, even as my head began to clear. I was still holding my erect penis, my right hand gripped the base, my left hand held the shaft just below the head.

 

The first thing I noticed was that surprisingly little was coming out of the piss slit, at least for now. The next thing I noticed was that Hank, Matt, the floor and everything in the laundry closet was drenched with what must have been my cum. It looked as if a balloon filled with five gallons of lube had burst.

 

They were licking one another other clean.  I was reminded of cats grooming each other. The entire scene was surreal and I pulled the wires from my mouth and blinked. “Just go take a shower,” I said. “I’ll clean this up.” I looked at the mess more closely. “Somehow.”

 

They both jumped at the sound of my voice. “You’re back,” Hank said. Matt stood, reached behind the washer/dryer stack, and unplugged the cord I had been feeding from.

 

I released my cock. “I didn’t know I had left.”

 

“You were in some kind of trance for at least half an hour,” Matt said.

 

We were all present in the room again and despite the sensation of tremendous power that filled my muscles and cock, we were more or less ourselves. It was a nice feeling, comforting and familiar. I wondered how long it would last.

 

“I must have been coming the entire time,” I said as I gestured at the semen that blanketed the area.

 

Hank stood and faced me. “No. The trance started after you came.”

 

“How long did my orgasm last?” What I was really asking was, how long did it take to slime everything in front of me?

 

“You don’t remember it?” Matt asked. “I thought the building was going to fall down.”

 

I thought the building was going to fall down.

 

Hank and I looked at each other before turning to face Matt.

 

“He doesn’t know,” I said.

 

Matt looked confused, worried. “What did I say?”

 

“He didn’t ask about your back?” Hank’s eyebrows went up and I saw him look back at me.

 

“He asked,” I said, focusing on Matt. I was again impressed with his level of respect. He hadn’t even asked Hank about my scars. “I put him off.”

 

 

Pure terror washed over me. Adrenaline surged into my bloodstream, granting me renewed strength. My heart was pounding with such force that I wondered if I would have a cardiac event of some kind, but I swept Karen into my arms and ran as fast as I could through the ash-filled street. The roar increased in volume until it became a deafening, punctuated thunder. I imagined it as an oncoming but invisible locomotive. I could hear it but could not see more than ten feet in any direction. After several seconds, visibility got worse; I could no longer see my hand in front of my face. A hail of small objects began peppering my head and shoulders. Then the falling debris grew larger.

 

I tripped over something – I was pretty sure it was a body – and twisted in mid-air as best I could to prevent myself from falling on the very person I was carrying. My shoulders and back slammed against the ash and debris covered pavement. It felt like I had landed on jagged rocks.

 

I screamed in pain even as the breath was knocked out of me and Karen rolled over my head. However, no one could have heard me over the all-obliterating roar. No one could have seen us through the impenetrable dust. We weren’t in an apocalypse. We were in Hell.

 

The debris raining from the sky had become a downpour and even as unseen projectiles struck me, I managed to lift her and stumble to the sidewalk on my left. My biceps and lungs were burning, the pain in my back was agonizing, but I moved carefully to avoid stepping on or kicking anyone. I felt my way along the side of a building until I found what I thought was the entrance. I carried her several feet inside before my biceps began to fail and I had to set her down.

 

I began coughing uncontrollably. I felt a liquid in my mouth. It may have been blood, but because of the dust I wasn’t sure.

 

I could see nothing. I could smell nothing. I could barely breathe. My mouth was so caked with dust that speech was impossible. I was desperately thirsty. I was becoming lightheaded, either from lack of oxygen, blood loss or both. The rolling thunder had died away only to reveal the distant wailing of sirens.

 

I covered her with my body, holding myself over her on elbows and knees despite the fact that I no longer felt anything falling on me. Even if we were inside some kind of structure, it could fall as well. Still, I felt relieved, but continued to cough up liquid. It had to be blood. It seemed likely that I was going to bleed to death or suffocate on it. The scale of whatever had happened was so epic I couldn’t imagine being rescued in time. Surely much of Manhattan had been destroyed.

 

I was wondering when the building was going to blow up when I felt her kiss me on the cheek. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper in my ear...

 

 

Matt shifted his gaze from Hank to me. “Just tell me about the scars when you’re ready,” he said. “No biggie.” He shrugged and smiled.

 

I walked over to my chair and looked down at the worn brown leather, the years of sweat stains. I had bought it my first year in New York, right after renting my apartment, about a year before 9/11. I hadn’t moved it since.

 

I sat down. I was much larger, denser. Just my awareness of my godlike body was intensely gratifying and I could feel the heavy tube of my flaccid cock begin to fill. I didn’t even have to look at myself. The power available to my muscles was immense and palpable just sitting there. I decided to test it further. Even as my tool grew to its unbelievable size, I stood back up and turned to my friends.

 

“You guys go take a shower,” I said. “I’ll clean this up, then I’d like to go to the gym.”

 

Hank touched my shoulder as I walked by him. “Hold on,” he said. “Lemme see your back.”

 

I felt his hand run over the area on the inner right lat where the largest scar was. “You ain’t gonna believe this. Or maybe you will.”

 

“Try me,” I said.

 

“The scars are all gone.”

 

*  *  *

 

Hank and I had trained at the same gym for years. We worked out together for the first several months after our first date, but when he called it off we began going at different times – he during the day, myself in the evening.

 

The sun had set some time ago and we covered the few blocks between my place and the gym in the diminishing twilight. I was glad that it was only a few blocks. My presence in public had become very disruptive.

 

I had grown significantly during the two or so hours I had been connected to the dryer outlet. My mechanical scale topped out at 300 pounds, my electronic one at 350. I guessed I was around 400 pounds now and looked forward to checking on the gym’s old but well maintained platform scale.

 

I did enjoy my new mass and power. I felt like the Alpha Stud of the planet. And when I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror or my reflection in a window, I knew without a doubt that no man had ever even approached my hyper-masculine glory. Each time I saw myself, my cock would instantly expand into a throbbing, vein-wrapped hard-as-steel torpedo and spew insane quantities of pre-cum. The euphoria was nearly overwhelming.

 

What I didn’t care for was the stupefying effect I had on everyone around me. People clearly felt compelled to respect and submit to me. That was a given. It was as inevitable as gravity. Even as a part of me enjoyed and understood their submission, I didn’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of mindless, drooling zombies. Yet that is what we witnessed as we headed up the sidewalk. I parted the pedestrians on the sidewalk as if I were Moses parting the Red Sea.

 

My clothing didn’t help. I had crammed my massive legs and equipment into Mark’s now-completely inadequate sweats, my huge cock both tenting and soaking the fully stretched fabric. And that was all I wore. I had no shoes that would fit and in fact didn’t need any. Not even broken glass could scratch the soles of my feet. And a shirt? I had a feeling I would never cover my massive upper body again.

 

Hank followed me and Matt brought up the rear. Upon finally reaching the gym, an old three story brick building with numerous windows and a fire escape that faced the street, Hank pulled me aside. “That was the first time in twenty years that I felt invisible,” he said as he shook his head. “But you know, I can’t blame ‘em. You’re a god now. There’s no other way to say it.”

 

I looked him straight in the eye. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with me, but I’m not a god.”

 

“I’ll tell you exactly what’s goin’ on,” Hank said. “The world is outta control and you’re turnin’ into a god to whip it into shape.”

 

That made me laugh. “I’m supposed to save the world? That’s why this is happening?”

 

“You got a better idea?”

 

“Hey guys,” Matt interrupted. “This is fascinating and all but we’ve got company.”

 

Hank and I both turned to see that a semi-circle of about a dozen men and women were kneeling, staring and open jawed, on the sidewalk five or six feet away. More were arriving by the minute and my cock responded by surging to maximum hardness, pounding and pumping pre-cum with such pressure and volume that it began spurting through the stretched fabric of my sweatpants.

 

I resisted the urge to drop my pants and allow them to worship my massive cock, to kiss and touch my immense thighs and low-hanging orange-sized balls. I am the Alpha Stud, why do I deny them the domination they so desperately crave?

 

“Give them what they want,” Hank whispered to me. “Show ‘em the cock they want to worship.”

 

My heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to escape into the relative privacy of the gym just as much as I wished to tear away the skin-tight sweats hiding my glorious lower body, wrap my thick, powerful hands around the base of my superior cock and bask in my absolute masculinity. They looked up at me, begging me to accept their worship.

 

“Jamal,” Hank began.

 

“It’s not time yet,” I said as much to my would-be worshippers as to Hank. I turned to go inside, but because my shoulders had grown so wide, I had to pass through the doorway sideways. He followed me in.

 

“What that hell was that?” he demanded before I reached the check-in desk.

 

I spun around and stopped, acutely aware of my mass and the considerable weight of my cock as inertia made it want to continue spinning. I scowled. “What was what?”

 

“You can’t keep runnin’ from ‘em, man. It’s not fair.”

 

I looked back at the entrance. Matt followed us in but remained at the glass door, looking out into the street or sidewalk.

 

“Jamal, if you’re gonna be the alpha male of the planet you gotta start actin’ like it.”

 

I sighed and held my tremendous arms out. “I didn’t come here to be ‘the alpha male of the planet.’ I came here to see how heavy and strong I am. Can’t I do that?”

 

“You have no idea how powerful you are just standin’ there,” Hank said. “Look behind you.”

 

I knew what was back there – the front counter and retail area. Beyond that was the famous scale and abdominal equipment, and to the left of the ab area, a large room full of free weights and powerlifting equipment.

 

As I turned to look, I also knew what to expect: complete submission. And that is what I saw. The young kid at the counter stared at me, dumbstruck. Others either fell to the floor where they stood or approached and knelt before me at a respectful distance.

 

I heard Hank approach me from behind. “We need to worship you, man,” Hank said upon reaching my side. “All of us.” He began to kneel.

 

“WAIT!” I said. “Just wait. Right now this is about me.” I started for the scale.

 

“Everything is about you now,” he said.

 

“No, man. Apparently everything is about a bunch of needy, pushy bottoms,” I called back to him without stopping or turning around.

 

Hank said something else but I had tuned him out. I stepped onto the platform and watched the hand swing up and settle on 407. “Fuckin’ massive Alpha Stud,” I said to myself. I looked down and saw that my cock had stretched the now-pre-cum soaked sweats out so far that the shaft of my cock was easily visible even beyond the heavy, thick slabs of my pecs. “I think I’m done with these,” I said as I tore the sweats off and tossed them to the side. The hand dropped down to 403.

 

The scale could measure up to 1,000 pounds, and I absent-mindedly stroked my huge fuck tool and wondered how many days it would take me to max it out. Then I looked up and saw my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling wall mirror and it was immediately clear why everyone without exception pleaded to worship and submit to me on sight. Hank was right – I was becoming a god.

 

Time stopped as I gazed at myself. I was hyper-masculine beyond fantasy. My massive, shredded, striated muscles bulged and flexed with a fluidity that belied their extreme hardness beneath a coat of beautiful black hair that grew especially thick on my chest, arms and legs. Intense waves of power seemed to surge from my phenomenally muscular body into my throbbing cock, which pounded with enough intensity that the hand of the scale’s dial began bouncing in rhythm. My balls, the size of small oranges, hung heavy and low in front of my impossibly muscled, barrel-like thighs. I was so aroused by myself I felt euphoric. Pre-cum began to spurt powerfully from my godlike cock.

 

As magnificent as I was, so unimaginably masculine and virile, my orgasm didn’t really begin to build until I carefully examined my immensely powerful upper body. I was well over three feet wide from basketball delt to basketball delt. My thick, mountainous traps rose nearly to my ears and framed a “neck” that was easily wider than my head. Each pec, huge and square and covered with a perfect pattern of the thickest black hair, was fantastically thick and dense.

 

My insanely huge lats held my massive arms away from my body at enough of an angle to display their tremendous sweep, expanding upward from the boulders of my glutes and broadening to well over three feet to meet my enormous delts. I was far more massive than even the largest of bodybuilders. And I would only grow larger.

 

I threw my arms into the most devastating double biceps pose the world had yet seen and roared to declare my absolute domination over all things. My muscles exploded with unprecedented definition and power as I flexed. I could feel them bulging and pressing together as they competed for space on my six-foot frame, which sent my still-building orgasm past the tipping point.

 

My cum cannon fired at full power, unleashing volley after volley of cum toward the mirrors at the back of the room, which shattered along with every other window within my field of vision. Then I fell silent and listened as broken glass crashed to the floor all around me while my cock continued to unload like a pulsing fire hose. I dropped my arms and grabbed hold of my mammoth cock, squeezing and stroking it, drunk with my own magnificence, and still the orgasm continued, my cum coating the equipment in its path, spraying the rubber mats on the floor, until I bent over and took the head of my own cock into my mouth and sucked with all my might. Finally the flood of cum slowed to its now-continuous trickle and I looked around at my friends and gym members – all kneeling with arms and faces flat on the floor before me or frantically beating their own dicks in awe – all my slaves for the taking.

 

I needed a hole to plow. Although only my powerful hands could provide the intense pressure my cock deserved, they couldn’t give me the satisfaction of knowing that I was stretching someone’s hole to the limit of their endurance. Yet my fuck tool was well over a foot long now and at close to four inches thick at the base, I could think of only one man who could endure being plowed by me without serious injury – a huge Puerto Rican bodybuilder after whom I had lusted for years. At six foot eight and as massively built as he was, I knew his ass could properly worship my cock.

 

The fact that he was straight was irrelevant. “Bring me Carlos,” I said.

 

 

 

Next Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1757-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-seven/

[Rowan]

Missed this story. Glad to see it again. XD

[Fulano]

Missed this story. Glad to see it again. XD

 

Thank you Rowan :-)

[Shade]

I must have missed this story from the old forum, but it's a great pleasure to have the opportunity to read it now. I love alpha characters and Jamal's viewpoint is terrific. Looking forward to the next few instalments.