Spartan Wing; Last Chapter

[blazefiresabre]

Last chapter in the series, started this a challenge set by DPhoenix to write something around a image he morphed. Was ages ago and I write slowly, sorry.

 

Thanks to Greggrth for his help.

 

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Running through the hallways, Duncan's waist chaffed against the tightening speedo. He ran around the maze of the Spartan Wing trying to find his way back to him room, but his mind was muddled. Every time he tried to focus on remembering the walk from the room, his room number or even where he was; his thoughts would wonder and fill with dread.  

 

They wondered back to Ben and how it felt to blow a load with the boy's hands caressing his body. Back to Jake, a massive beast of raw power and pure muscle. Toby the chef and the endless gorge on food which had swollen his body and his gut. And the twins, tall and lean with every striation of muscle begging to be licked as they stood there in nothing by speedos.  

 

He snapped back out of it, 'what am I doing?'  he asked himself. He tried to distract himself, keep his thoughts away from them; with page 3 models and Playboy cover girls, but the thoughts wondered back to the men who worked here. To the men who where just a short walk away. 

 

Walking was torture, as he looked down the speedo cut into his groin, digging into the skin around the waist the quads. Why were they shrinking? he thought then he caught his reflection in the window, it wasn't the speedos that were shrinking. Duncan's body continued swell, his frame gorged with muscle, his neck barely visible as his traps tried to swallow his head.  

 

Moving forward again, rushing back to his room, every step was accompanied by a tremor and the strained sounds of tearing. The pain growing as the fabric stretched and became tighter. He lent against the wall, propping himself up with a arm that cracked into the brick surface, the euphoria of growth sending his head spinning. Looking down the corridor the nearest door read S32, his room. Pushing himself off, his hands went through the stone surface, the wall crumbled around his bare feet. Shaking the dust off his arm, his swelling bicep slapped against the hard surface of pectorals that grew bigger with every passing second.  

He had realised then that he didn't have the swipe card on him, thinking back...the gym, it was in the pocket of the tattered remains of his jeans, shredded to threads and now a pile of rags near a bin somewhere no doubt.  

 

Could he force it open? Maybe push it enough to break the lock? Maybe smash the whole thing down? Then how he close it behind him? What am I thinking? All that aggression, damage and boastful display of power, it wasn't him. Fuck it, I'm locked out.  

 

A his hands rested on the wooden surface the door slowly swung open. He forgot to lock it in the first place.  

 

Rushing through, the wooden frame hit the outside of this pecs. Even hunched and ducking down face went into the top of the door frame. He still had no sense of his new size and power. Stepping back, he looked around the door frame and and himself, at least what he could see that wasn't blocked by the thick pecs and shoulders.  

One foot forward, he grabbed the top of the door frame on the other side, lowered his body, but twisted to go insides. Last time had to do something like this was squeezing through a chained up gate when he was twelve. Just like then his back and massive heaving chest where pressed tightly against the sliver of space, but he made it in anyway without too much damage.  

Duncan closed the door in a hurry and slammed the door behind him. Knocking over the dresser, it landed and cracked open against his calves and foot, he marched straight through the rubble, not even feeling a pinch of pain.   

He stood before the mirror, one more time, pinching himself to make sure it wasn't some dream or nightmare. He didn't wake up, before the mirror he saw himself, a massive hulk of ripped muscle and pulsing veins. His hands ran over his pecs again, succumbing to the joy of his new form a lapsing second, his cock twinged; hardening the speedo finally snapped, pinging off his skin it landed in a heap against the wall. He reached down to the python like meat, even has his hands had grown, he just about wrapped his fingers around the full width. Stroking it, he took his fingers right up to the tip, squeezing the head tightly between his finger and thumb, drawing out all the pre, thinking of the boys downstairs 

 

"Fuck!" he growled, he let go of himself, head in his hands, as he forced himself to think of anything else, the concentration sending a throbbing pain of a headache. He stormed forward, the gym bag he used to pack his belonging sat on the bed. Duncan drove his hand in. 

 

A knock at the door. "Hello?" he recognised the voice, "It's Ben, we were wondering if you were ok?" 

 

Duncan's hand rummaged through the bag desperately, "I'm..." he struggled to fight against the words, hard and horny, and struggled to invite him in,…"f-f-fine".  

 

"Because me and the boys-" 
 

"Boys?" Duncan fearfully questioned. 

 

"Yea, I'm here with Jake, Toby, Owen and Lewis" all of them?! Did I lock the door? "we were worried if you were ok after you left in a rush?" 

 

In the bag Duncan found his phone, thank fuck, lightly scrolling through he found the pics, ones downloaded offline along with some videos, and others sent by now ex-girlfriends. Flicking through them, he got no reaction, in fact he felt his cock soften in his hand. What the fuck, why aren't these working, they've always worked when... 

 

"Duncan?" came another voice from outside, they were still there, those four guys, he thought, feeling his hard on return. He looked at the shower, mind wondering, big enough-STOP IT. He flicked through the phone again, looking for more, maybe something else will work. Scrolling and scrolling, the phone crumbled his hand as his thumb pressed all the way through the flimsy glass and metal until he felt is press against his palm. 

 

"SHIT!" 

 

"Duncan?" they were just outside, his mind and imagination were running around, and thinking about the guys again his cock rose, harder and harder. Back to the breasts and wet pussies and he throbbing meat faded. He looked at the door as they knocked again. In the center, a handle to open and a latch to lock it. He had to clear his mind, keep his mind off it. 

 

He couldn't do it with them about. 

 

Handle to open, let them in, be gay, with guys, muscled guys, satisfy his growing cock. 

 

Latch to lock, keep them out, keep them away, get rid of this.  

 

He inched closer to the door. 

 

Open  

 

Or lock 

 

The door was in reach, all five of them, big, huge pumping, well endowed. But men. 

 

Open with handle 

 

Or lock with latch 

 

They knocked again, the large shower beaconing Duncan, with room for five more. He walked to the door, seeing the two pieces of metal. 

 

Handle.  

 

 

 [8’8’’, 515 lbs, 4%, 14’’]