TQuintA Posted August 1, 2023 Author Share Posted August 1, 2023 Chapter 36 Week seven of the third round was surprisingly enjoyable. I was bound and determined to get to 500 pounds for Adam and Edward, so I was eating with especial gusto and working out doubly hard. In fact, at our week seven weigh-in, all three of my crew had impressive results. Slate was up to 339.5 pounds with a 13.5 inch dick. He liked that both of his measurements had a .5 at the end. I was very glad I had Gavin to occupy my mind, or I would have spent all my free time lusting after Slate. His proportions were scintillating, his abs and Adonis belt were captivating, and his muscles were so hard and sculpted that they cried out to be caressed. His face, as his testosterone use climbed higher, had achieved and then exceeded my ideal of masculine perfection. He had dazzlingly bright eyes encased in a thick brow and razor-sharp cheek bones. His jaw was increasingly square and firm. His beard was delectably thick and erotic, enticingly framing his thick, kissable lips. If he had been a normally proportioned man with that face, he’d still be one of the sexiest motherfuckers I’d ever seen. That face on that body? Astronomically sexy. Onyx had beefed up to 412 pounds and a 10.5 inch dick. He was elated to finally be in the 400-club. Since the start of the competition, Onyx had more than doubled his body mass and looked like an erotic caricature of muscle. He lumbered when he moved in a tantalizing display of masculine excess—his muscles powered his forceful locomotion, his dimensions made movement an ever-rearranging competition of mass, and his footsteps thundered like a brontosaurus. Onyx made size enticing. And I should know, I was even bigger. Slate still had me beat in one area, as my dick was only 13 inches (only, ha! The only people who could take my dick anymore were Adam and Onyx, and I barely fit them). But I tipped the scales at 475 pounds. If a door was too small for me, I used my strength to make it bigger. Tony was already planning on doing a lot of reno; I was saving him money on demolition. I could only fit into custom-tailored clothes because I bulged in all directions: my chest stuck out so far forwards and my ass so far backwards that I was inhumanly thick no matter what angle you perceived me at. Everyone, especially my clients, were beginning to look ridiculously small in my presence. My strength had eclipsed physical reality. I had even outgrown two of Tony’s new machines; I could not fit into them no matter how I arranged my mass. It wasn’t a loss, though. Those two machines simply were not a challenge for my might. When I reported my progress to Adam at our weekly Sunday night session, he smiled broadly. “Good,” he said deviously. “Good what?” “I was hoping you’d be close enough to the 500-pound goal that I wouldn’t have to use both vials on you.” That didn’t answer my question. “I again ask what?” “He got two vials of the Red Miracle,” Edward explained, idly rubbing his crotch. “We weren’t sure we could get even one, so we had feelers out to four or five sources.” “Two came through,” Adam grinned. “With such an abundance of riches, Adam agreed that if you were within 25 pounds of your goal, you’d only get one vial.” “And he could inject me with the other,” Adam said, unveiling two syringes filled with that acid red concoction. “I want to make a good impression at the dinner party.” “And I want him bursting out of his clothes,” Edward chimed in. “Would it be better if we took these before or after we fuck?” Adam asked. “It really shouldn’t have an impact,” I said. “During, then,” Adam said. “I want you to fuck me from behind while I stare at my husband wielding these two syringes, just imagining how big we’ll be in a week.” He turned to his husband. “And when we’re about to cum, inject us. Try to time it to the peak of the crest.” “Done and done,” Edward said, taking the syringes from his husband. I struggled to fit my entire thickness into Adam. “You’re splitting me in two,” Adam called out, breathing heavily. I had only gotten about a third of the way in, Adam was thoroughly stretched out, and I was finding it challenging to get further in. “This might be the last time I fit,” I told him, endeavoring to wedge my imposing erection into his hole. Adam started leaking copious pre at that prediction. I continued inching my dick in, saying, “Next week, you’ll have a thicker ass, and I’ll have a thicker cock.” Adam moaned, not only at the tree trunk of cock invading his ass, but at the thought of having sex with a man too big for him to accommodate. When I finally bottomed out, I let out a cry of accomplishment and sheer dominance. I wasn’t thrusting; I was enjoying the feeling of overfilling Adam. I felt massive. Adam was a fit, muscular man, and I outsized him in every way. My head was engulfed with muscle: my broad, semi-spherical shoulders, my thickly rising traps, and my ponderously prominent pecs surrounded my ruggedly masculine face. I even struggled to look over my hirsute pecs at his prone body. I was so packed with muscle that two of him couldn’t make one of me. I flexed my arm, the bicep bulging into extreme prominence, larger than any man had ever had, and embarrassingly eclipsing Adam’s, and his biceps were his pride and joy. I flexed my abs into sharper relief, causing my cock to drive into Adam’s tight hole. Adam let out a sharp, high-pitched squeal. My cock felt like it was in a vice, despite Adam having a cavernous rear passage. I was simply too impossibly huge for his anatomy to fully compensate for. This realization was such a turn-on that my cock further stiffened and engorged. “It feels like there’s a metal bat up there,” Adam said. I got as close to his ears as my jutting pecs would allow and whispered, “There is.” At that, Adam began panting, near orgasm already. “Where did Tony inject these shots?” Edward asked, pulling me out of my fantasy. “The side of the arm, just above the bicep. Why?” I asked, just as Edward plunged one syringe into Adam’s shoulder and the other in mine. “Oh, fuck!” Adam cried. “This is a rush.” I also felt the Red Miracle as it coursed its way through my veins, so I picked up my pace and plowed Adam as hard as I could. The friction caused by the size disparity (thick cock, narrow tunnel) sent the pleasure centers in my brain into overload, and within minutes, I was launching fiery hot semen deep into Adam’s gut. Adam, meanwhile, burst his own seed on the bed underneath. Panting exhaustedly, Adam said, “Keep going. Don’t stop. I’ll never get you back into me.” “If you insist,” I teased, and I renewed my thrusts. With the Red Miracle influencing me, I was reduced to an animalistic rut. Deep in my pleasure, I could only process the most immediate stimuli: the feel of Adam’s hot and hard body, the chlorine scent of cum, the salty tang of sweat, the encroaching view of my muscles into my field of vision, and the orchestra of bestial noises I was producing. I was making noises I’d never heard myself make. They were as feral as a moose in heat, as loud as a blue whale’s call, and as deeply masculine as a lion’s roar. Adam made similar noises, but they sounded more human than my own. I lost track of the number of orgasms I’d achieved, but when my hour with Adam was over, he had a distended, cum-filled belly and drizzles of my essence leaking from his overtaxed hole. Before I left, Edward thrust his phone in my hand. “I need Adam’s updated workout and diet routine, as well as your measurements for a tux. The dinner party’s black tie.” I obligingly typed the information in, indicating that my sizes were likely to change dramatically in a week, and returned his phone. “I’ve already informed the tailor. He needs a jumping off point,” Edward replied. As I was being hosed down post-session, I expected the Red Haze to kick in. This was my third dose of the Red Miracle, and each time, it had caused a dimming of my perceptions and a near-total blackout. This time, there was none of that. At breakfast the next morning, I told Slate and Onyx what had happened at my most recent session with Adam and Edward (leaving out any details of the dinner party). “Are you fucking kidding me?” Slate said. “A third dose? I haven’t even gotten one!” Then as a terrified afterthought, he said, “Your cock is going to get bigger than mine again.” “I expect so,” I replied. “But that still doesn’t explain why I have all my faculties.” “You’re off the green stuff,” Onyx said. “None of the other pleasure boys who got a shot of the Red Miracle ever became so disoriented or foggy. Just us.” “Really?” I asked. “In fact,” Onyx continued, “when I was on an incredibly high dose of the green stuff, the Red Miracle turned me into a robot.” “So this time?” I asked. Onyx and Slate shrugged in unison. “You’ll actually get to enjoy it, I guess,” Onyx said. His guess turned out to be true. No longer on the green stuff, the Red Miracle actually intensified my senses. Everything tasted more, smelled more. Everyone looked hotter, more sexual, even my clients. My mind was sharper, more focused. I was more discerning, alert, and centered. And, much to my delight, I turned this heightened awareness inwards as well. I could feel every ounce of protein go straight to my muscles. I could feel my muscle fibers tear with every exercise and repair with every respite. I could feel my cock grow heavier, more turgid, each erection more intense and filled with blood. I could feel every breath of air power my body, every beat of my heart surge through me, every hair on my skin coarsen. I could feel my body as it thickened with more beef. I could feel the exact spot in my brain that lighted up every time I orgasmed; each separate contraction of my prostrate. Sex was now a full body experience, an experience my clients loved as well. With my preternaturally amplified senses, I could pinpoint the exact ways to bring my clients to unbridled ecstasy: how much pressure to apply, how much to withhold, where to touch, where to lick, what to say. It was like I could read their thoughts via chemical signals and acted expertly upon them. For seven days, I lived in the intensified world of the Red Miracle. It was exhilarating. When I came down from the intense high, it was the end of week eight of the third round. The third round had ended. Slate stepped on the scale for his official weigh-in, the scale registered 349.5 pounds. “If I’d had a bigger breakfast,” Slate complained, “I’d be 350.” He didn’t brag about his cock measurement like he normally did, but instead, in a mild, placid voice said, “14. Just a hair over.” “That’s how big mine is,” I told him. “I didn’t take any dimefidone this week. I was afraid, with the Red Miracle, it would give me a perma-boner like yours,” I pointed at his absurdly rigid cock. “You mean it?” Slate asked. “I do. It’s exactly 14 inches on the dot.” Slate punched me collegiately on the shoulder. “In that case, I don’t care that you’re a ridiculous inhuman meat balloon that makes me look small even though I am as big as the biggest bodybuilders.” He flexed his pecs and flashed me his rock-hard, impossibly defined abs. “Thank you?” I asked. Onyx had weighed himself during my exchange with Slate. “425.5,” he said with a self-satisfied grin. “75 pounds more than you, buddy,” he said, slapping Slate on the ass. “Your cock?” he asked. “10 and three quarters,” Onyx said. “Bigger than I’d ever thought I’d be.” “Not as big as me,” Slate said, strumming his erect cock like he was playing a guitar solo. Then, to me, he said, “On the scale, Colossus.” “The Colossus was in Greece,” I corrected as I walked past him to the scale. “My namesake is in Egypt.” “So, I should I have called you a Pyramid? The Sphinx was a woman,” Slate said. I thought about it for a moment. “Try Apis,” I replied. “Oh, how I miss the library,” I bemoaned as I stepped back off the scale. “Don’t hold us in suspense,” Onyx said. “Well, my dear Onyx, you are now the only member of the 400-club,” I informed them. “No fucking way,” Slate said. “504,” I said. “I could’ve skipped breakfast and still been over 500,” I lobbed to Slate. And I felt it, too. I was so packed with muscle that my world was hard, stony bulges of flesh and sinew. I bounced my pecs idly, and it felt like I was being punched in the face on their way up and that heavy rocks were tumbling down a craggy cliffside on their way down. I flexed my biceps, and they were so much bigger than Slate’s (Slate who was 350 pounds). Then, I turned around to show them the pinnacle of my form: my massive, muscular, mountainous ass. “That is a sight to behold,” Onyx said. “Your ass is so gigantic that I’m hard and leaking, Nile.” “Okay,” Slate said. “I get it. I get why men like to fuck you. If all men looked like you, I’d be bi.” I turned around to face him. “Did you just say you want to fuck me? Mr. Straight-Guy-Stop-Hitting-On-Me Slate wants to fuck big daddy?” “I guess I did,” Slate said. “Slip of the tongue.” “I can think of a few better places you can slip it,” I teased. “And the moment’s passed,” Slate said in a puff with a loud exhalation of breath. “I’m straight again. You want me to fuck you, pay for the hour.” “You know I’d be the ride of your life,” I said as I left the gym. I could feel Slate’s eyes laser focused on my ass as I walked away. 20 5 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
HawkShark Posted August 1, 2023 Share Posted August 1, 2023 Goddamn what an insanely hot chapter @TQuintA. The Adam/Nile sex scene is one of the hottest things I've ever read. I can't wait for the party! Also, if the party is indeed the end of part 3, I'm drooling at what part 4 may bring 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
arpeejay Posted August 1, 2023 Share Posted August 1, 2023 Thanks! I needed that! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ro20316 Posted August 1, 2023 Share Posted August 1, 2023 5 hours ago, TQuintA said: “Are you fucking kidding me?” Slate said. “A third dose? I haven’t even gotten one!” Then as a terrified afterthought, he said, “Your cock is going to get bigger than mine again.” Ohhhh Imagine Slate with just one dose of the Red Miracle. Im sure Nile will have a competition right there. I have a feeling Adam and Edward will happily pay for an hour and watched Slate and Nile fuck their brains out 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted August 2, 2023 Author Share Posted August 2, 2023 Chapter 37 As soon as my time at the gym was through, I went back to my room to look at my most precious possessions. Ever since I had found my secret stash of sentimental treasures, I would end each day by reading the poetry Gavin had given me, playing with the origami flower, kissing his ring, and going to sleep humming myself his song. Because today was special, I didn’t want to wait until bedtime. I knew I’d eventually show Onyx my stash, maybe even Slate. But not until I’d officially won the third round officially. Officially. It’s not that I thought either Onyx or Slate would rat me out. Honestly, I had been afraid I’d accidentally let something slip when Tony was in earshot. As if he had read my thoughts, Tony came into my room without knocking. If I had gotten back to my room fifteen seconds earlier, I would’ve been caught red-handed, looking at my stash. “Tony!” I said, surprised. “You normally make me come to you.” “True,” Tony replied, “but I wanted to get you alone without anyone knowing we’d spoken, and this was the most efficient way.” He pulled out his work tablet and continued talking, asking, “I am about to post the scores for the third round in the cafeteria, and I had to discuss them with you first. You know you’ve won the third round, right?” “I’d assumed as much,” I said as humbly as I could muster. “I was only slightly worried you’d put your thumb on the scales so I’d lose.” “I did put my thumb on the scales,” Tony said. “I pressed as hard as I could without rousing suspicion. Do you know what your final score was?” “I assume it’s low,” I joked. I keenly remembered that, for this round, I wanted as low a score as possible, like golf. “The lowest possible score was 5,” Tony said. “Your score was 7.” “Damn,” was all I could say. “Onyx beat you in the beauty category, and Slate beat you in the genital size category.” “They deserve it,” I asserted. “Do you know what your score would’ve been if I’d been fair?” I shook my head. “5. You would have had a perfect 5.” “Slate has a bigger dick than me,” I corrected. Tony dismissed that with a scoff. “His erection is a tiny fraction of an inch longer, sure, but yours is thicker, your balls are bigger, and your ejaculations have a higher volume. I gave him the win in that category out of sheer pettiness.” I nodded in understanding. Tony went on. “Of course, Onyx beat you out in the beauty category. He was always going to come in first in that category. No matter what the results actually said.” “Naturally,” I replied. “He actually came in third. I bumped him up to first, bumping you down to second.” Tony sighed in frustration. “Everyone said you were hands down the most beautiful.” He looked me squarely in the eye. “Everyone. You aroused Tammy, and she’s a lesbian. Granted, it was only a fleeting tingle, but she admitted that, for that one moment in time, she wanted you to go down on her.” Tony crashed on my bed. “You self-evidently won the other three categories. Everyone knows you make the most money for the house and how much you spend on clothes and supplements,” he pointed to the zinnias on my nightstand, “and now flowers! If you didn’t win that category, everyone would call foul, and I’d have a riot on my hands. And any idiot can see that you’re the most muscular boy in this house by 50 pounds.” “75,” I corrected, knowing full well he had access to the numbers. Tony rolled his eyes. “And, I had Dr. Isaac Mowbray breathing down my neck about how amazing your growth potential is. Given your advanced age, especially.” He’d only added that comment to remind me I was pushing 70. “Isaac’s thinking of writing a paper on you. If you got even second place in that category, he would’ve denounced me to my customers as a fraud.” Tony rubbed his face with his free hand. “I cheated, and you were the clear winner. I at least thought I could make it a tighter race.” He glowered at me. “I wanted you to win. If you win, the dinner party happens. I wanted the dinner party to happen. Edward threw money at me, any press coverage would be free publicity for the house, and I wanted to have dinner at a senator’s fancy estate. So, yeah, I wanted you to win.” He paused, lowered his voice to a threatening tone, and continued, “But I wanted you to win because of my largesse, not because you’re some kind of superhero. I wanted you to owe me big.” He sighed heavily and resumed his usual tone. “Enjoy the dinner party. The truck will be here in fifteen minutes. Two guards, who will be with you the rest of today, will escort you to the garage.” I only barely had time to change into something more than gym clothes before the guards showed up and led me to the garage. I noticed we took back hallways inaccessible to pleasure boys. I don’t know if Tony was worried I’d run away or was just trying to disorient me, but I had no idea where in the pleasure house I was, and the corridors were so narrow that the outer edge of either arm grazed either wall as I walked forward. I thought the hallway would never end when I could suddenly smell exhaust and oil and the space opened up into a parking garage. I could see that the doors had been taken off the jamb to allow me room to egress. In the middle of a large, empty parking garage was a black van with government license plates and the windows blacked out. A guard lifted the back door of the van up, opening it for me, and I got in. The front of the van where the driver sat was blocked off by a reflective black partition, so I would be all alone in the back. There were no seats in the back at all, which marked my status as cargo. Without another practical option, I lay down and stared at the fabric-covered ceiling of the van. Despite the lack of seatbelt or any sort of restraining harness, it was a very smooth ride. I didn’t feel any bumps or bounces, the turns handled beautifully, and if we crossed a bridge, I couldn’t tell. I lost track of time on the drive, but I was pretty sure I was traveling for at least an hour. When the van came to a complete stop and turned off, I sat up. The rear door opened, and the same two guards from the house escorted me from this new garage into the house proper. This house was lush. Lush. The burgundy carpet was thick and deeply-cushioned, the walls were painted in a tasteful yellow-cream and adorned with gorgeous works of art, and the ceilings were so high I felt like I was in a cathedral. After a five minute trek through the sumptuous interior, we found ourselves in a wide open room. The carpet gave way to a highly polished, hardwood floor. The room was a captivatingly long rectangle. There was a magnificent fireplace on the narrow wall close to the door. The paintings in this room were even more eye-catching—partly because of their brilliance, partly because of their size. This room had an even higher ceiling than the hallways, and the room was so long that I could barely make out what was at the other end. The room had five chandeliers, each plated in gold and dripping with crystals. It was perhaps the most opulent room I had ever seen. My favorite feature wasn’t actually the room itself. The wall opposite the one I had entered through was lined with windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. They were all impeccably clean. I could see the outside. Rolling hills. Trees. Beautiful trees. So many trees. A forest of trees. “It’s spring,” I said, marveling at the various shades of green exploding off the leaves and the grass of the field. My eyes dazzled at the shades of red, pink, orange, and yellow that festooned the flowers in the garden. A bunny rabbit hopped by the window closest to me. “It is,” I heard Adam say from the far side of the hall. “I forget there are no windows in a pleasure house.” “There are windows in our rooms,” I responded meekly. “Small ones. Like portholes. High up. Just enough to let in some light, not enough to actually have a view.” He finished walking towards me, saying, “Welcome to the great hall. I’d take credit for it, but Edward’s the decorator.” By then, he was finally near enough to me to touch. He embraced me. “It’s good to have you in my home.” With a sternness in his eyes, he broke the embrace and glowered at the guards. “You two can go.” “Mr. Fielding told us…” a guard tried, but Adam interrupted him. “You two will wait in the van. I have my own security, and I don’t feel like babysitting two incompetents.” “But Mr. Fielding…” the same guard tried again. “If you don’t go back to the van, I will call my security, the police, the National Guard, and then Mr. Fielding. In that order.” He cocked his head authoritatively. “Am I understood?” The security guards left. Adam was all smiles again. I looked him up and down. He looked bigger than I expected. His pecs were fuller, his arms occupied more of his sleeves, and his thighs bulged delectably. At the same time, Adam was looking me up and down. “I see you broke 500,” he said. “I did,” I responded, flexing my pecs for him. “And you?” Adam mirrored my flex and stuck his pecs out. “Just a smidge over 200.” He let go of the pose and linked arms with mine, at least as much as my absurdly thick bicep and forearm would allow him too. “This is when I’d offer you a tour, but there are parts of my house you just won’t fit into.” He affectionately squeezed my enormous bicep to punctuate the thought. “I’m only allowed in a certain number of rooms,” I reminded him. I felt a hand on my back. A second later, Edward was in front of me, smartly dressed and beaming from ear to ear. “All due respect to your employer, this is my house, not Tony’s.” He chuckled. “He sent food for you. Two lunches, six protein shakes, and a dinner.” He chuckled again. “Like we wouldn’t feed you.” He looked me squarely in the eyes. “If you want that food, we’ll provide it for you, but if you want to spend the day gorging on cheesecake and hot fudge sundaes, we’re not going to stop you. In fact, we’ll have them made for you.” “You’re Tony’s employee,” Adam said. “You’re our honored guest.” “Shall we go over the itinerary while we have lunch?” Edward asked. We continued our conversation as we walked toward the dining room. “Can we have fried chicken?” I asked. Edward guffawed full-throatedly. “‘Can we have fried chicken?’ he asks. Like that’s a challenge.” He pulled out his phone. “Hi, Mario, it’s Edward. Mr. Nile will be having a full fried chicken meal in the dining room in fifteen minutes.” I internally laughed at being called “mister.” The voice on the other end said something, and Edward asked me, “What do you want for sides?” I shrugged. I was paralyzed by the possibility of too many choices. In his phone, Edward said, “Give him choices.” He hung up, and turned to Adam. “You understand this is for Nile, not you, right?” “Not even one bite?” Adam asked pleadingly. Edward emphatically shook his head no. “He’s a guest; you’re the host. I will not have you puffy for the press photos tonight. You’re on a strict no-salt diet until the press leaves.” Edward looked at his phone. “Don’t worry, Adam. I know you’re hungry too. Your meal should already be waiting for you.” “I bet it’s grilled chicken, steamed vegetables, and brown rice,” Adam sighed. “Poached,” Edward said. “Your chicken has been poached.” “You see how he treats me?” Adam said with a smile, obviously loving his husband’s doting attention. By then, we were in the dining room. There were five tables, and each table could easily seat 100. Maybe more. Only three places were set, though. The silverware looked more expensive than my entire wardrobe. The tablecloth was a delicate yet sturdy white linen. Each chair looked like a throne. There was a wide, sturdy metal one clearly meant for me, sitting in front of one of the set places. There were windows along one wall, once again displaying a serene vernal vista. The trees were so gorgeous I could cry. “You eat here?” I asked, not looking away from the view. “He normally eats at his desk in his office at work,” Edward said. “He must like you if he’s agreed to eat at a table. Heck, he must like you if he’s deigned to eat at home.” “Hey,” Adam said, feigning being insulted. “I eat at home at least five meals a week.” He looked around at the tastefully decorated room. “Just usually not in this room.” “This dining hall is for formal occasions. It seats 800.” Edward was boasting. “We usually eat in the private quarters upstairs.” “We’d take you there, but, again, you won’t fit,” Adam said. “To repeat myself, we’re not following Tony’s stupid rules. We only agreed to them to get you here.” I sat down, and a large plate of chicken was placed in front of me. A smaller, but still quite full, plate of food was placed in front of Adam. As I began eating, smaller plates full of things like mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, biscuits, cornbread, and green beans were arrayed in front of me. The chicken was scrumptious. I hadn’t had food this decadent in decades. “Can I eat all of this?” I asked, eyeing the buffet of forbidden foods. “Sure, if that’s what it takes to fuel you. Eat until you’re full,” Edward said. Then, he consulted his phone to read the itinerary. “Your tux fitting is after lunch, and I’d rather you have a full belly for that than have the tux be too small for you to enjoy dinner.” I nodded at that wisdom. “After the fitting, Adam wants to play with you in his gym.” “Adam wants to fuck you in his gym,” Adam corrected. Edward rolled his eyes. “You have some time to yourself until 5:30. Then, the stylist comes to make you even more handsome. Be in your tux by 6:30; that’s when the guests start arriving. We’ll have them gather in the great hall. You will come into the hall at 7. Oohs. Aahs. Big reaction from the guests. Photos, photos, photos. We mingle for an hour. Dinner’s promptly at 8.” “I’ll need another meal between now and then,” I said after swallowing a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Made with milk and butter and slathered in gravy. “I expected as much,” Edward said. “Just tell any servant what you want, and the message will get to Mario. At dinner, make sure to sit at the seat with your name card. To justify the party, we turned this, partly, into a fundraising dinner, and changing seats is strongly discouraged. After dinner, there’ll be dancing and conversation in the great hall until 11. At 11, we take you up to a guest room to enjoy each other’s company. We’d invite you into our master bedroom, but we’d have to take down a wall to get you in.” “Sex at home with Nile. Twice in one day,” Adam said, placidly eating his broccoli. “Sorry I complained about the food. I’m getting two treats today.” “At midnight, you get back in the van to return to the pleasure house.” I nodded. Then, Edward looked up from his phone. “Any questions?” “Can I have some pinot noir?” I asked. “Red wine with fried chicken?” Edward looked confused and a little mortified. “You sure you don’t want an iced tea or a soft drink or a milkshake? Something more fitting for the meal?” I shook my head. “Pinot noir it is.” Edward said that loudly enough that there was (seemingly immediately) a glass of wine in front of me. “I’m going to ask you to pace yourself because I know you’re not allowed alcohol at the house, and I’d hate for you to get drunk and embarrass anyone, especially yourself.” “He’s a quarter ton of man,” Adam said. “He could have a bottle and not get a buzz.” “I suppose,” Edward said. “If you’d please pace yourself,” he repeated. “There’ll be champagne at dinner.” “One glass of wine is all I want,” I said. “And I’ve never had champagne.” “Thank you for telling me that,” Edward said. He pulled out his phone and pressed a button. “We’re going to want a photo op of Mr. Nile drinking champagne. It’s the first time he’s had it.” He hung up. “Any other questions?” he asked me. “Can I wear a zinnia in my lapel?” I asked. “Of course,” Edward said, mystified by that request as well as being mystified that I asked as if the answer might be no. I pushed my plate into the center of the table, empty, and finished the glass of wine. “That was an excellent meal. I feel spoiled. Like royalty.” “For the amount of joy you’ve brought into my life,” Adam said, finishing his own meal, “I wish I could treat you like a king every day.” The tux fitting was uneventful (we did it in the great hall while busy workers were putting up decorations). The man who’d made my suit was flabbergasted that he’d have to let out most of the seams to make room for me. He thought the tux had been impossibly big, and I needed it bigger. I spent most of the fitting staring at the trees through a window. The gym was equally stunning as the rest of the house. It was state of the art, as well equipped as the pleasure house’s gym, but one of the walls was covered with windows. If Edward and Adam were any indication, rich people love windows. “What do you think?” Adam asked, spreading his arms wide. “The view is gorgeous,” I said, unable to stop staring at the trees in the distance. “I was thinking the same thing,” Adam said, eyeing me up and down. “You don’t need to use a line on me,” I said. “I already like you.” Adam nodded, and then, like a giddy child, asked, “Will you work out with me?” “If you want,” I said. I quickly surveyed the weights in this room. “But, for all your fancy equipment, I don’t think there’s enough weight here to challenge me.” “Really?” Adam asked, impressed. I walked up to a rack of plates and lifted the entire thing. My biceps bulged, and I brought them up and down for a few reps. My biceps swelled into sharper relief, the vein running down the middle becoming more prominent. “This’ll work.” Adam took me through his workout. I’d occasionally make minor corrections to his form. The last two times I did that, I was pretty sure he’d used bad form on purpose so I’d touch him. When I could, I’d use a machine right after him—at five times the weight. When I couldn't fit into the machine or when there were no weights heavy enough for me, I’d just lift the machine. Adam thoroughly worked out every muscle group, trying to show off. I could tell he was grandstanding: by the end of the workout, he was drenched in sweat, his muscles were standing out in a full pump, and his face was bright red. I, on the other hand, got a subpar workout, but I’d had a full-body workout at the house that morning. All told, it was enough to pump up my bis and work off my lunch gut. “You are gorgeous,” he said. “You’re not half bad yourself,” I replied. “I really want to fuck you,” he said. “The Red Miracle made me feel like a man half my age.” Suddenly his cock hardened into a stiff erection. “Or maybe a teenager. My dick got bigger.” “I can see that,” I said, pointing at it. “We knew it would.” “A whole inch,” Adam bragged. “I’ve had Edward screaming in rapture all week.” He pulled down his workout shorts to his mid-thigh, letting his hard cock break free. “I’m seven inches,” he said. “A full seven inches. And it’s thicker.” He dropped his pants all the way to the floor. “And my balls are bigger.” He stepped closer to me and out of his shorts at the same time. “I really want to fuck you,” he repeated. “We start with you on all fours on the floor. Then, when we start getting hot and heavy, flip onto your back so I can see your gorgeous pecs and handsome face.” A thought crossed his mind. “Can I cum on your pecs?” “As long as there’s a shower big enough for me to wash it out of my fur,” I said, getting down on my hands and knees. “We had the gym shower modified,” he said. “We knew you’d need it.” He stopped for a second and said, “I’m leaking like a faucet. I won’t need much lube.” With that, Adam was in me, his cock hilted to the root. He definitely felt bigger. He was nowhere near close to the biggest cock I’d taken, but I could feel him ring my bell. He started fucking me hard and fast. I could feel the fullness and strength of his larger muscles as he picked up speed and momentum and the thickness and length of his cock as he plowed into me. “I feel like I’m trying to climb a mountain,” he said as he increased his pace. As if that were my cue, I flipped onto my back. The torsion put a lot of pressure on Adam’s cock, and he looked like he was in heaven. I flexed my pecs for him and ran my hands through my chest hair, then raised my arms above my head, showing off the fullness of my biceps and the thickets of hair in my cavernous pits. Adam, however, was distracted by my monumental cock. “How big is that thing?” he asked. He was fucking me so forcefully that every word was its own sentence. “Twice as big as yours,” I taunted. At that proclamation, Adam fired in me deep and hard. “I thought you wanted to cum on my pecs?” I asked. “You cheated by being impossibly sexy,” he said, pulling out of me. “I would love to go again,” he announced, “but I sadly have some work to do before the party tonight.” “Fine,” I said, a lilt in my voice. “Fuck me and run, just like you do at the pleasure house. Don’t even give me an orgasm.” Adam chuckled suggestively, low in his throat. “I’d stay and finish you off,” he said, “but I’m already late.” “I was teasing,” I responded. “Which way to the gym shower?” Adam pointed. “I’m going to shower in my personal upstairs shower.” He looked at my bulging, naked form. “If I shower with you, I’ll never make my meeting.” “And who do I ask for a snack?” “Literally anyone,” Adam said. Then, he kissed me on the cheek, slipped on his gym shorts, and left the room. 24 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
HawkShark Posted August 2, 2023 Share Posted August 2, 2023 @TQuintA Dear lord the dialogue in this chapter was amazing. Adam's dismissal of the guards, Tony's admission of attempting to rig the game, Edward's welcoming of Nile into HIS house... There's just too many that stand out. I love how they're pampering our boy Nile, and their affection for him seems as honest and genuine as can be presented in the written word. Oh and the gym sex was great too, not to undersell the scene, but woof. My one wonder at the moment is if Tony will indeed show up at the party... He didn't mention that he wouldn't be showing up, he wouldn't want to show weakness to Nile, but Nile was already in the room when the offer was extended in the first place. Maybe he just meant the private event instead... Who knows. Either way I await the next chapters with bated breath. 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
DawnFire98 Posted August 2, 2023 Share Posted August 2, 2023 I could read chapters after chapters of this. But every great story must come to an end. So, thank you for taking us on this incredible ride that was Nile’s transformation into the biggest, strongest and hottest pleasure boy ever. I can't wait to see, what you have in store for us in the last chapter. Also: is this story actually finished after the 38th chapter or is there still more to come @TQuintA? 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted August 2, 2023 Author Share Posted August 2, 2023 7 minutes ago, DawnFire98 said: is this story actually finished after the 38th chapter or is there still more to come As I think I've said elsewhere in this thread, I have four parts and an epilogue planned and prewritten. Part 3 will end after Chapter 38. I am currently drafting Chapter 43, and I expect Part 4 to end with chapter 48 or 49... and then the epilogue. I don't plan on posting any of Part 4 until I've written and revised the whole thing. 5 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
DawnFire98 Posted August 2, 2023 Share Posted August 2, 2023 1 hour ago, TQuintA said: As I think I've said elsewhere in this thread, I have four parts and an epilogue planned and prewritten. Part 3 will end after Chapter 38. I am currently drafting Chapter 43, and I expect Part 4 to end with chapter 48 or 49... and then the epilogue. I don't plan on posting any of Part 4 until I've written and revised the whole thing. Ohh ok. Thank you for the reminder, I forgot. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
arpeejay Posted August 2, 2023 Share Posted August 2, 2023 So delicious! Many thanks! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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