Mdlftr Posted November 4, 2018 Share Posted November 4, 2018 Wow - you really have a terrific imagination. You clearly know something about how the news media works and how stories are assigned. You also have a unique understanding and insight into Middle Eastern cultures, customs and rulers! <wink wink> Well done idea. Funny dialog in spots helps to make the muscle growth scenes even more effective. Thank you for sharing your story with us! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
benroc Posted November 4, 2018 Share Posted November 4, 2018 Yes. Agreed. This was a hot story. The reveal of the Prince had my mouth watering. I wanted to know more. Yet, now, I would like to see the reporter grow. And for him to know his full potential. You never really revealed the reporter's body features... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
rmorris Posted November 14, 2018 Author Share Posted November 14, 2018 Okay, wow, I'm taken aback by the feedback, I'm flattered! Had no idea this would go down as well as it has! So, I need a bit of time to think about a second chapter (bear in mind this first chapter took me a couple of months to write). I think I know where I'm going with it, at least for the next chapter or two. Again, any further feedback, drop a comment or leave me a message! Thanks once again guys! You're all lovely. Next time you see a reply from me on this thread it should be the next chapter. 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
londondan Posted December 6, 2018 Share Posted December 6, 2018 I’d love more, that story was so good Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
RockyDragon Posted March 11, 2021 Share Posted March 11, 2021 Love to see more if u have intentions! Amazing descriptions Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post rmorris Posted July 14, 2021 Author Popular Post Share Posted July 14, 2021 Okay, so I didn't intend for this to take like, nearly three years for me to post a second part. I originally had a very strong idea for where I was going to take this, but then when I put that to the page, it just didn't sit right on from the previous chapter. Hard to explain. I ended up scrapping that chapter, and will probably use that idea next instead. I've been really struggling for some time as a result as to where to even take this. I just haven't had the right mindset to know what to do with it. But, inspiration finally struck last week. I've been writing and subbing it furiously and now I present to you, Chapter 2. Once again, any feedback, feel free to slide into my DMs or reply using a comment. And for those of you saying I'm not really describing the reporter's body, there's a reason for that! It's so you guys can imagine yourselves in the situation. I personally find stories way too restrictive when they immediately describe how "you" are built. It may be something I end up adding, but not now. CHAPTER 2 Minutes pass, I stare at the ceiling, not really doing much. I just stare. I have to digest everything that’s happened. I’ve just had one of, if not the world’s richest royal shoot inside me, and while he did that, he was 500lbs of muscle. In the time it’s taken us to get acquainted and have sex, his family have probably made over another billion dollars. I hear him let out a sigh, his voice is a slightly higher timbre than it was just five minutes ago. I turn my head left to look at him and he’s starting to revert back to a ‘normal’ size. Of course, ‘normal’ size in his instance is still around 270, that’s what he said he goes back to. Even his ‘normal’ is absolutely what I wanted in a partner. The growth, the huge size, that was always supposed to be a fantasy. Until now. I had just been fucked by a corrupt Middle Eastern royal, he had admitted to me he spends billions on himself rather than his own country, siphoning off oil money for his own whims and pleasures. I stare around the room, everything is painted with gold leaf, he is spending billions on himself, a corrupt ruler, a dictator. I’m not afraid to admit I like it. There’s this expectation in society, really, that it’s ‘wrong’ or somehow ‘not right’ to want wealth and power. It’s seen as bad, you’re seen as morally bankrupt, to possibly be attracted to someone of unbelievable wealth and unchecked power. But the truth was before I had even discovered what my muscle fetish really meant, I was jerking off in my teenage bedroom to Arab Sheikhs and Princes. I would look up the net worth of these families, all totally hidden. So then I’d read articles about their lavish lifestyles. One experience which confirmed to me my sexuality, in terms of greed, was reading about a Saudi Sheikh who had travelled to the UK with a spare plane for his cars and bags. The article estimated that the family must make “at least £4bn a month” and I remembered shooting my load everywhere. These guys had everything, the world at their feet. Deep down, I was a left of centre republican (that’s in the European sense, American readers). Maybe the prospect of inherited power and wealth was the reason that turned me on so much. I was disgusted by the thought that someone should have a nation at their beck and call based on the accident of birth. That’s precisely why it turned me on so much. In my life in London, I had actually on two separate occasions had sex with royalty. One Qatari and one Kuwaiti prince. If you float in the right circles for long enough, you meet these people. They’re everywhere, the families are so huge and spread out across the globe. The first time it happened, swallowing the Kuwaiti Prince’s seed hungrily as he grunted, I came hands free. Nothing like what had just happened to me with the Prince of Thazzan, but the feeling of a direct bloodline to all the power and wealth in Kuwait being pumped down my throat just *did* something to me. Thinking about who I had just slept with, the thought occurred to me, before anything else continued. “How should I address you?” I asked. He laughs, a huge, joyous laugh that filled the room and also faded away as it kept bouncing off the gold-plated decorations on the walls. “I am His Royal Highness, Prince Abdul Al-Aziz Al-Hamza, first in line to the throne and next in the line of succession to the island of Thazzan, at which point, my title gets an ‘His Excellency’ before it.” My brain felt funny, I wondered if it was possible to have a kind of mental orgasm after cumming so many times. He moves his not insubstantial body closer to mine and rolled to face me on his side. He kisses my neck softly. “Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we?” He pulled back, smirked, “Call me Abdul”. ************************************************************************ He gets up and heads out the room through a connecting door, and comes back a few seconds later carrying fresh robes and national dress. He slides them on to his body, tensing his arms through the fabric and inspecting them himself. “I love the residual effect of this medication,” he looks at me and smiles, “I’ve taken so much of it at this point it sort of accumulates in my system. I haven’t been below 250lbs in months”. “I’m still trying to get over the size of you at 500lbs,” I say, sitting up and looking at my cum stained trousers. “It is great, isn’t it?” He takes a seat back on the chairs, which are not far from where we had been on the floor. “I think the first time I took it, after it had been tested, and those changes started happening, I couldn’t believe it, I didn’t believe it was possible. “The sad part is, there is just no one else who gets it, and being so well known and from such a small nation, I can’t just take a load of pills and then go on a rampage. I could buy people’s silence, but at the end of the day, a growing Prince is always going to eventually spread rumours. “I joined the muscle growth forum as a way to get out my frustrations, to realise I wasn’t so alone in this idea of getting so huge. I have used one or two prostitutes or even my own staff while this size, but never after taking the medication. “Truth is, one of the prostitutes even asked me at my normal 270lbs why I was so big. I told him I wanted even more, and he said he couldn’t understand why as any bigger would be ‘too much’. He was removed.” I wonder in what sense he means removed, as in, removed from the roster of people who serve royalty in sex, or removed as in, well, buried somewhere in the desert outside the city. “Oh, your trousers,” he exclaims, cutting off my train of thought, “do you need a new shirt as well?” “I don’t think so.” “Let’s just get you a new everything, probably easier.” He leans from the chair to pick up the bundle of my clothes. He lifts the phone on the table between the two chairs, speaks some Arabic into it while reading my clothing size labels. He puts the phone down. “Lucky for you I have suits from before my growth around your size. Do you mind Armani?” I laugh, “well I mean it’s a lot better than the stuff I was wearing.” “No, I meant as in, it’s cheap stuff,” his voice trails off. There’s a slight awkwardness in the air as the differences in our backgrounds are so stark based on one throwaway comment. “I’ve just thought,” he continues, “isn’t this your final day here? What will you do?” I look at the recorder on the floor, the batteries scattered across the room. I look at him, those dark, beautiful brown eyes and perfect face, white teeth. His neck absolutely bulging at the seams of his robes. I look around the room, past him, I think about the situation I’m in. “Honestly,” I pause, letting out a deep breath, “I have no idea. This situation is all just so fast and yet it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” “You’re still sitting in your own cum and you covered yourself in it. I can see that.” He says, flatly. “I’ve no idea how this *should* even work, what are you even offering? What’s your angle? What is -“ I gesticulate, “this?” He laughs, a broad, rich laugh. It’s beautiful. “For the past five or so years I’ve been taking these pills and then masturbating furiously on my bed as I expand, thinking about how amazing it would be to share this with someone.” My heart races, he continues. “This is fast, I know, but I want this. And I think you want it too.” He looks at my cum soaked body. I nod, not breaking eye contact with him. There’s a quiet knock at the door to the room from the corridor. He barks something in Arabic incredibly aggressively. From my limited understanding it sounds like there’s a swear word in there. He turns back to me. “I want you.” He says. I let it hang there, choking on whatever I would say. My breath quickens. “Before you say anything, my friend, I know, this is a fast situation but let me be perfectly clear, now that I’ve found someone as turned on and into this as me, I do not want to lose you or lose contact with you. There’s a part of me which doesn’t even want to let you out of my sight.” I swallow, hard. “Sorry, that sounded controlling. But you get my drift. We can split our time between here and London. We’ll have to see how the situation plays out with your friends and family, although my immediate reaction is to keep everything private. I will be ruler after all. “If you choose this life, I’ll employ you as an adviser to the Kingdom, but that’s for show. To all intents and purposes, you’re my man. You’ll live a total life of luxury and never have to work again. Have you ever been with Arab royalty before?” “Yes.” “Well you see, things are very different -“ he catches himself, “wait, what?” “I actually have,” I reply, “a Kuwaiti and a Qatari.” His smile broadens immensely. “Oh wow, the British boy does have a type, doesn’t he?” He lets out a large laugh. “Yes,” I quietly admit. “I mean I was about to show off with my lavish lifestyle but it seems you’ve become accustomed to this anyway,” he smiles, “this is most unexpected, well done you.” I beam back at him. “I mean, the Thazzani royals are immensely more wealthy and powerful than others. Everyone references Saudi Arabia and Qatar, but no-one talks about how much deeper our oil reserves go. Same size oil field underneath us, but we’ve got so much more than our neighbours. It helps. “I wake up on a morning, and if I want something I can have it within hours. The other week out of sheer boredom I bought a new Lamborghini, only 110 have been made. It was millions and even at my normal size I struggle to fit behind the wheel, but who cares, right?” I shiver all over, I can’t work out if it’s me being turned on or my body cooling down. “Oh, your clothes,” he says. He gets up and moves over to the door in the corridor, opening it slightly. He doesn’t say anything, takes the clothes, and shuts the door. He approaches me and throws the clothes on to me. “Can I,” I pause, “can I have a shower? Before I get changed? I mean, I am covered”. “Oh goodness, yes, of course, my sincerest apologies.” His British accent, speaking that exact sentence, for the first time almost sounds fake. It’s too polite, too accented. It comes from having the best education money can buy. He picks up the phone and speaks more guttural tones. He replaces the handset. “Okay all staff are in rooms, not corridors, and no one is in my bedroom or my bathroom, let’s go.” We walk to the door, he slowly opens it, looking out. The palace is deserted. I walk alongside him, dirty clothes trying to mop up the cum that’s still dribbling around on my skin, he takes the clean clothes off me. We get into a gold elevator, which quickly applies brakes as he steps in, and are rushed upwards. We cross another hallway to a large set of double doors, he opens them. ************************************************************************ His bedroom is larger than my apartment. I do not live in a small apartment in London, but this single room is four times the size of my place. The bed still dominates this enormous room, being by far the largest bed I have ever seen. The room was, like the rest of the palace, exceptionally modern but with ornate gold elements. A plain, modern chest of drawers had an old fashioned lamp on top. He sees me looking at the furniture. “I always really loved modern,” he says, “but then a few months ago I got bored of modern everything so changed out for some more decorative stuff, but can’t decide if I like this either. Bathroom’s through there,” he points at a large, double width door. “Are all these doors so wide and big because you’re huge when in here?” I ask. “Bingo,” he replies. The bathroom is half the size of the bedroom, still twice the size of my flat. It has a huge corner hot tub, an enormous walk in glass shower, everything you could possibly need to spend hours pampering yourself. I step into the glass shower, set a temperature and strip down. He’s standing in the doorway, even at ‘normal’ size, not far off blocking it entirely. I step into the rainfall of water coming down from the high ceiling. I start working my thumb and fingers close against my body to try and scrape off the cum. There are soaps on a shelf, and I lather up my hands to start trying to remove any remaining residue. In the corner of my eye I see him confidently swagger into the bathroom from the bedroom. He’s taken off his robes and his totally naked body moving around is a sight to see. He’s a big guy, and a huge soft cock flops around as he walks towards the shower. He gets in behind me, also underneath the rainfall of water from the ceiling. Even at this size, he’s taking up a lot of room in this big walk in shower. I step towards him, fairly confident most cum has been removed, I put my arms around his body. I squeeze. I feel the solid mass of his build, he’s an immovable mountain. I look, deep into his eyes and firmly plant a kiss on his lips. We both smile, water trickling off our bodies, in his case, streaming down his immense form. I go in for a deeper kiss, and he burps into my mouth. I step back, disgusted and wretching. I open my mouth and breathe out hard, waiting for water from the shower to rinse out my mouth. I fill my mouth with the water and spit it out, I do it again. I turn around to look at him, frowning. He looks apologetic. “There was a reason I wasn’t initiating the kiss,” he smiles, “my apologies. That always happens just after I take a dose and just before things start happening.” My frown softens. “Did you just…?” “Oh yes. Three,” he flashes me a shark-like grin, “I’ve never taken three, it should double my size.” He’s getting hard from talking about it and I’m already solid. He steps toward me, his huge hand wraps his way around my dick and slowly jerks. “You like this?” He asks, I can see his body slowly starting to swell, I muzzle my head into his hairy chest. I look up at him. “Fuck you’re going to get so big now aren’t you?” I say, restrictions lost, I can talk freely about this with someone, in person. The most I’d ever had were some hot phone calls with guys who wanted to grow. To actually meet a guy, and for it to be happening, was something totally different. He throws his head back, swears loudly in Arabic as I hear cracking from his body. His joints are struggling to contain his quickly accumulating mass. He lets go of my dick and leans against the tiles on the solid wall side of the shower. It’s a good job he didn’t lean against the glass. “It takes my body ages to acclimatise to each increase in dose,” he says, breathlessly, “I’ve been taking two doses for about a year and I’m still adjusting to it.” He presses his whole back against the wall and leans against it, he’s visibly getting really big, his neck is nonexistent as his body keeps swelling larger. His arms are bigger than tree trunks. His legs are forcing each other apart. He lets out a deep cry of pain. “I’m only supposed to take an additional half dose, max, when I want to start training for a higher dose, I should never have taken three in one go,” his joints crack more, he opens his mouth to do deep breathing, his beautiful facial complexion is even looking a tiny bit flushed. He clenches his jaw, swearing repeatedly through teeth in Arabic. “Do you need me to get someone?” I say, my body leaning against his swelling form, his skin is on fire even through the chest hair. “No, no no just let me -“ he lets out a loud animalistic noise, pushes me out the way and convulses forwards. His enormous back is like a platform for the shower water to be collected and run off. I can see the muscles beneath his skin flexing, striating and relaxing. “Grow.” He says in a much, much deeper baritone. He says it towards the floor tiles and it reverberates around the room. He lifts his torso up and stands up straight, struggling to get his balance. I can see from the wincing on his face as he moves around that he is struggling to contain the odd sensations he must be feeling in his new, huge body. His body now looks disgustingly huge, it’s hard to comprehend the sheer enormity of a muscle guy verging on 600lbs. His neck had gone, his shoulders were now the size of my head, his arms, relaxed, are bigger than my waist around. His legs are struggling against each other, forcing his standing position apart. I look at his dick, I could see creamy white liquid oozing from the end. He turns to face me, but his shoulders and arms get caught on the wall tiles and the shower glass. He tries to step back but his slowly swelling form ensures that he’s now wedged. “Oh fuck,” he says in English, a nice courtesy. “You are fucking, grotesque,” I say, “a total fucking monster, a beast, disgustingly huge, and I have never been more turned on.” His dick is now leaking huge sticky drips of cum, getting mixed in with all the water and working its way to the drains. “I have never seen anything like this, even in my deepest fantasies, let me soap you up.” I try, in vain, to get my hands lodged between the immense arms and shoulders and the walls to enable him to push himself free. I soap up my hands more, rubbing them all over his hairy chest, I lather them up again and get to my knees and work on his legs while sucking his dick. I hear him groan in appreciation. “You’re so big,” I say, taking my mouth off his dick. “So, big, this is so good,” he groans, “everything hurts and my body is on fire but fucking look at the size of me. Get off a second, my legs are feeling strong.” I walk back on my knees, watching him place a foot a long way behind the other and seeing the veins and muscles work so hard. His face turns red. He frees himself, he stumbles back onto the tiled wall as a huge bang erupts from the glass wall. Massive cracks have shot across the panes. “Now you’re no longer jammed you look fucking huge,” I say. He steps away from the tiles and beckons me. I move towards him as he lifts me effortlessly by my armpits. It’s like I’m nothing. I do weigh nothing to him. “Wrap your legs,” he growls, calmly. I try and get my legs wrapped around his hips. He forces his huge, royal dick inside me. The footlong that should be breeding women to carry on the royal lineage, but is instead being pushed into me. I scream as he makes me take it to the hilt. “Oh, you’re looser now,” he smiles. I can only let out a yell of affirmation to him. He lowers me back so he’s holding me horizontal, his huge, tree trunk arms supporting my back. I close my eyes and mouth to stop shower water from getting in, and breathe calmly as I start to feel this behemoth of man, larger and stronger than any other human male has ever been, work his way in and out. He holds me still, in mid air, while working his huge, monstrous Arab dick in and out of my hole. “You’re so big,” I yelp. “I am a monster, a freak,” he grunts back at me. “How does it feel to have grown to your biggest?” I ask, my voice rising and falling as he continues slamming into me. He lets out a low groan. “Amazing,” he replies, his pace on my hole getting quicker. “You like it, don’t you, you like being this freak,” I tease. “Yes, yes I fucking love it,” he grunts back, going faster still. “It’s so good to allow yourself to get this big, isn’t it?” I ask. “Bigger is always better,” he replies, changing his pace of fucking. I can feel his dick starting to tense inside me, he’s getting close. “How does it feel to be a huge, monstrous multi billionaire prince, about to be in charge of his country?” I ask. He doesn’t reply, just roars, roars loudly as my hole is flooded. I see every muscle in his body spasm and tense as he shoots his load into me. He lifts me back into his chest. He slides me off him, lifts me up and puts me down, I lean my body into his chest. “To answer your question, it is the world’s best feeling.” He kisses me on the top of my head, my body pressed helplessly against his enormous form. Water raining down on both of us. “And now you’re here, too.” 35 3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
superkappa Posted July 14, 2021 Share Posted July 14, 2021 Wonderful addition to a great story. I'm hooked, can't wait for more! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
alwayspinning Posted July 15, 2021 Share Posted July 15, 2021 I’m glad you continued this story after so long. It’s nice to read muscle growth stories where the MC isn’t necessarily white I also like that you leave the other character blank; not because you didn’t purposefully didn’t want to write him in but leaving it as a template for the ready to imagine however they want that person to look like in their mind It still felt short when you got to the juicy parts but I didn’t mind I still hope to see a part 3/4 etc 3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dredlifter Posted July 16, 2021 Share Posted July 16, 2021 Awesome! I love their dialogue, each voicing how they love the prince growing bigger and BIGGER. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tjdonger Posted July 16, 2021 Share Posted July 16, 2021 Thank you! Great story. Would like to see them both grow as well. Hope you will keep it going! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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