The Precinct - Pt 2 Added

[Burner42]

Link to Part Two
 

Part One
Dave strolled through the precinct, the smell of burnt coffee lingering in the stale air. His eyes scanned the room, noticing the usual faces buried in paperwork and screens, but something was off today. The fluorescent lights buzzed a bit louder than normal, casting a harsh glow over the dull gray desks. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

As he approached the break room, the murmur of the radio grew clearer, recounting a string of bizarre events from the night before. A convenience store robbery, a bar fight turned into a demolition derby, and a disturbing call about a man found in an alley, his body contorted in a way that seemed impossible. The room's energy was tense, the officers exchanging knowing glances that spoke volumes without a word. The coffee pot gurgled its last drop, and he heard Mark's distinctive laugh booming from the corner, a sound that had become more guttural in recent weeks.

Dave paused, his hand hovering over the Styrofoam cup. Mark looked up, his teeth bared in a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. Those eyes, they were different now—more intense, with a wild glint that made Dave's skin crawl. His muscles had bulged out of his uniform, stretching the fabric to its limits. The veins on his forearms stood out like a road map to a place no one wanted to visit. He had always been fit, but this was something else entirely.

"You're looking ripped, man," Dave said, his voice a notch higher than usual.

Mark flexed, the fabric of his shirt tearing slightly. "Thanks, Dave. Been hitting the gym hard." His voice rumbled like distant thunder.

The conversation was forced, the banter of old friends feeling hollow. Dave took a step back, his heart racing. Mark was his partner, his confidant, but now there was something else in those eyes—a hunger, a ferocity that hadn't been there before. He knew he couldn't ignore it.

“Everything okay?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Mark's smile grew wider, his teeth sharper than Dave remembered. "Never better."

Dave took a deep breath, trying to shake off his unease. "You've really bulked up. What's your secret?"

"Oh, you know, just a new protein powder," Mark replied, his tone dismissive. He turned away, his back to Dave, as he peeled off his torn shirt. The locker room mirror reflected a body that seemed to have swollen overnight, the muscles on his back knotting together like a tangled web of steel cables. Dave couldn't help but stare as Mark's shoulders broadened even more, pushing the boundaries of his human form.

In the locker room, Dave caught sight of Mark stripping off his pants. The bulge in his underwear was definitely more pronounced, and something about it made Dave's stomach twist. It was too...large, too defined. Mark noticed him looking and laughed, slapping his hand down over the area in question. "Guess the gym's been treating me well everywhere," he said, winking.

Dave tried to laugh it off, but his smile felt forced. "Jeez, you're going to need a new uniform."

Mark's response was a low, almost predatory chuckle. "Don't worry, I got it covered." He bent down, his back muscles rippling like a landscape, and pulled out a duffel bag from his locker. The bag looked heavy, full of something dense and mysterious. He zipped it up with a loud metallic click that echoed in the tense silence.

"You going to tell me what's really going on?" Dave asked, his curiosity turning to concern.

Mark faced him, his eyes darker than before. "It's nothing, Dave. Just...evolution." He stepped closer, towering over him now. The scent of something wild and musky filled the air, making the hairs on Dave's neck stand on end.

Dave felt his heart pounding in his chest. "What do you mean, 'evolution'?"

Mark leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You'll see."

The next shift was like any other, at least at first. They patrolled the streets in their cruiser, the radio crackling with the usual mundane calls. But there was an edge to Mark that hadn't been there before—his reflexes were sharper, his senses heightened. He seemed to anticipate trouble before it even happened. When they responded to a disturbance at a local bar, Mark was out of the car before Dave could even put it in park.

The scene inside was chaos—bodies flying, bottles shattering, and a cacophony of screams and grunts. Mark waded through the brawl with a terrifying ease, his muscles pumping like pistons as he subdued the combatants one by one. The sheer power he exuded was mesmerizing, and a little frightening.

Afterward, as they stood outside the bar, catching their breath, Dave couldn't hold it in anymore. "What the hell is happening to you, Mark?"

Mark looked at him, his chest heaving with exertion. Sweat glistened on his over-defined abs. "You wouldn't understand, Dave. But just know, it's for the best."

The night grew darker, the streets quieter, and the tension between them grew palpable. As they drove back to the precinct, Dave felt the weight of their unspoken secrets pressing down on the car like an invisible fog. He knew he had to get to the bottom of this, before whatever was happening to Mark consumed him completely.

Mark's appetite had become insatiable, his meals turning into feasts that would make a competitive eater blush. At the station, he scarfed down two whole pizzas and a dozen donuts without breaking a sweat, his jaws moving with a mechanical precision that seemed inhuman. His teeth, Dave noticed, had become more pointed, like a predator's. When the sergeant joked about his newfound love for the gym, Mark's eyes flashed, and he could have sworn he saw a hint of a snarl.

The following week, Mark's height shot up to 6'7, towering over everyone else in the precinct. His shoulders brushed the doorframes, his neck thickening until his collar was cutting into his skin. His jawline was more pronounced, the bone structure of his face taking on a more angular, almost feral look. The other officers whispered about steroids and roid rage, but Dave knew it was something else entirely. Something that couldn't be explained by a simple trip to the gym or a needle in the arm.

The calls grew more frequent, the incidents more bizarre. Criminals didn't just run from Mark; they cowered in his presence, their eyes wide with primal fear. Dave watched in awe and horror as Mark's hand swelled around his gun, his knuckles cracking as he tightened his grip. The power radiating from him was tangible, and it was clear that he was no longer the same person. The transformation was accelerating, and Dave felt a mix of fascination and dread. What would Mark become next? What was the endgame here?

One evening, they responded to a disturbance at a local gym, a place Mark had started frequenting in his off-duty hours. The owner had called, complaining of a man lifting weights that were beyond the machine's capacity. As they approached the building, the sound of metal on metal grew louder, a rhythmic clanging that sent a shiver down Dave's spine. The doors creaked open, and the sight that greeted them was something out of a comic book—Mark, now a mountain of muscle, was hoisting a barbell that looked more like a telephone pole, the veins in his neck popping as he roared with effort.

The other gym-goers had cleared out, leaving a trail of dropped dumbbells and overturned benches in their wake. Mark didn't notice them at first, his eyes locked on the mirror, his reflection showing a creature of pure power and dominance. But as he lowered the bar, he caught Dave's gaze and smirked, a knowing glint in his eye. "You should join me, Dave. Feel the rush."

Dave stepped back, his hand reaching for his holster. "What are you?"

Mark's smile grew wider, his teeth now definitely too sharp to be human. "I told you, buddy. Evolution." With that, he flexed again, and the mirror shattered into a spray of silver shards that danced in the fluorescent light, reflecting the monster he had become.

On the ride back to the station, the tension in the cruiser was thick enough to slice with a knife. The engine's hum seemed to pulse with the beat of Dave's racing heart. Mark leaned back in his seat, his breathing deep and labored, his eyes half-closed as if savoring the feeling of his ever-expanding muscles. "It's like nothing you've ever felt, Dave," he murmured, almost to himself. "Everything's so...intense. My whole body's a live wire."

Dave's eyes darted to the side, watching Mark from the corner of his eye. "And what about...you know, other things?" He tried to keep his voice steady.

Mark chuckled, the sound more like a growl. "You mean this?" He adjusted his belt, the leather straining against his thickened waist. "Yeah, that's gotten a bit...extra." His hand trailed down to his crotch, and he gave a gentle squeeze, eliciting a low moan that sent a fresh wave of unease through Dave. "It's like I've got a second engine down there, running on pure testosterone."

The rest of the drive was silent, the air heavy with the unspoken. The radio crackled with calls for backup, the city's chaos a stark contrast to the eerie quiet in the car. When they finally pulled into the precinct, the lights of the building seemed to flicker in the mirror, casting a strobe-like effect over Mark's increasingly inhuman visage.

As they stepped out, Mark's shoulders brushed the top of the car door, and it groaned with the effort. His boots hit the pavement with a thud that seemed to shake the ground beneath them. "Don't worry, Dave," he said, his voice still that unsettling mix of friendliness and menace. "I've got everything under control."

Dave nodded, his throat dry. "Okay, Mark," he croaked. But as he watched Mark stride into the station, his back now a wall of bulging muscles that made the other officers look like children, he couldn't help but wonder if that was true. If Mark was in control, or if the beast within was slowly taking over. The question gnawed at him like a rat in the night, keeping him up long after his shift had ended.

The next morning, the precinct buzzed with rumors about Mark's newfound...attributes. Some of the officers snickered, but the look in their eyes was one of fear, not amusement. Dave tried to focus on the paperwork on his desk, but his mind kept drifting back to the image of Mark flexing in the gym, the sound of breaking glass echoing in his head.

When Mark arrived for duty, his uniform barely contained his new form. His biceps strained against the fabric of his shirt, and his pants looked like they were about to split at the seams. His eyes were bloodshot, his pupils dilated. It was clear he hadn't slept, his energy instead fueled by whatever was happening to him.

"You okay?" Dave asked, trying to keep his voice low.

Mark's grin was feral. "Never better," he said, his voice a low rumble. "My drive...it's insatiable." His hand rested on his gun, his fingers tapping out a restless rhythm. "I need...more."

Dave swallowed hard. "More of what?"

"More of everything," Mark said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "More food, more lifting, more...everything." He leaned in, his breath hot against Dave's ear. "And the urges..." His voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air like a foul odor.

In the locker room, the air was thick with the scent of sweat and testosterone as the officers stripped off their uniforms. Mark's presence was like a storm cloud, casting a shadow over the mundane task of changing into their street clothes. When he peeled off his compression shirt, the sight of his chest took Dave's breath away—his pecs were massive, covered in a thick pelt of dark hair that trailed down his stomach in a line leading to the waistband of his pants. The muscles bulged and shifted with every breath he took, the definition so sharp it was as if he had been chiseled from stone.

The sound of fabric tearing made Dave's head snap around. Mark's pants were stuck around his tree-trunk thighs, the material straining against the new size of his body. The bulge in his underwear was obscene, a thick mound that strained against the gray fabric. Dave felt his own body respond, a mix of arousal and fear that made his stomach churn. Mark's eyes met his, a knowing look in them, and then he turned away, casually walking to the showers.

Dave couldn't help but stare as Mark's powerful form disappeared into the steamy stall. His ass was a marvel of muscular perfection, the cheeks clenching and unclenching with every step, the cleft deep and inviting as his underwear stretched. His back muscles rippled like the surface of a lake, the veins standing out like a road map of power. As Mark stepped into his shower stall, his head thrown back in a silent roar, Dave felt something stir within him, something primal and hungry.

He forced himself to look away, slipping into his own stall a few down. The water was hot and soothing, the spray beating against his skin as he tried to scrub away the tension of the day. But it was no use; his mind was a tumult of thoughts, all swirling around the monster Mark was becoming. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was witnessing something that was both terrifying and incredibly erotic. As the water ran down his back, he felt his own body responding, his cock thickening against his thigh.

The locker room echoed with the sounds of water and grunts as the men washed off the grime of the city. But over it all, Dave could hear Mark's shower, the water pounding against his flesh like a drum. The sound was almost hypnotic, lulling him into a state of uneasy arousal. He knew he needed to find out what was happening to Mark, but every time he thought about it, his mind was clouded by images of those muscles, that hair, that bulge.

Suddenly, the rhythmic sounds of water on flesh were pierced by a deep, animalistic moan from Mark's stall. Dave's eyes went wide, his hand frozen on the soap. The moan grew louder, turning into a series of grunts and growls. "Oh, fuck," Mark's voice rumbled, "so fucking huge." The words were like a punch to the gut, sending a shiver down Dave's spine. He knew what was happening—his partner, his friend, was pleasuring himself, and the thought was as disturbing as it was fascinating.

The grunts grew more frequent, the showerhead's squeal a counterpoint to Mark's increasingly feral noises. "Big motherfucker," Mark groaned, his voice tight with effort. "Gonna be so much bigger." The words grew louder, more desperate, until they culminated in a roar that seemed to shake the very walls of the precinct. The sound of the shower stopped abruptly, the sudden silence leaving Dave's ears ringing.

He waited, heart racing, until the locker room door slammed shut. He knew Mark was gone, probably off to deal with whatever urges his transformation had brought on. With trembling hands, Dave stepped out of his stall, the water from his own shower running cold. His eyes fell on the floor of Mark's stall. It was covered in a pool of cum, so deep it looked like a small puddle had formed. An inch deep, at least. The scent of it hung heavy in the air, musky and overpowering. He stared at it, unable to comprehend the sheer volume of it, his own arousal fighting with his fear.

With a shake of his head, he turned away, trying to push the image out of his mind. But it clung to him like a spider's web, sticky and inescapable. He quickly finished his shower and dressed, the wetness between his legs a testament to his own traitorous body. As he left the locker room, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. What would Mark become? And what would it mean for their friendship, their partnership?

The whispers grew louder, the rumors more outrageous. Mark's feats of strength were becoming the stuff of legend around the precinct, and the other officers looked at him with a mix of awe and terror. Dave tried to keep his distance, but it was like trying to ignore a tornado ripping through a trailer park—impossible. Every time Mark flexed, every time he walked by, the air seemed to thicken with a tension that was both sexual and violent. It was like watching a time bomb tick down to an explosion no one knew how to stop.

On the following Monday, Mark strolled into the station gym, his wifebeater stretched taut over his massive chest, the fabric straining against his pecs like a second skin.  His pecs look thick and so full, and the wifebeater can barely hold them up. His biceps bulged, veins standing out like a map of a river system, and his thighs looked like they could crush a car. He slapped Dave on the back, nearly knocking him to the floor. "You ready to hit the weights?" he asked, his teeth sharp and gleaming.

Dave nodded, his stomach a knot of nerves. "Sure," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. They moved to the bench press, Mark easily hoisting a weight that would have crushed a normal man. He lay down, his abs a series of tight ridges, and began to lift. The barbell trembled with the sheer force of his will, the metal bending slightly under the pressure.

As they worked out, Mark spoke of his weekend conquests, his voice a deep, resonant growl. "Took on a couple of girls at the same time, and a little twink," he said, his eyes glinting. "It's like they can't get enough of this new me." He paused, his chest heaving, and added, "And I went to this underground gym. Those guys were animals. But even they couldn't keep up with me."

Dave's eyes widened, his mind racing. "What do you mean?"

"They had these...enhancements," Mark said, his smile predatory. "But I showed them a thing or two about power." He sat up, the muscles in his back popping. "You should see the size of the dudes there. But even they couldn't match me. And the gear they had...it's like nothing I've ever seen." His eyes took on a distant look, his mind clearly elsewhere.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of patrols and paperwork, the tension between them stretching tighter with each passing day. Mark's appetites grew more voracious, his need for food and sex insatiable. Dave caught glimpses of the dark circles under his eyes, the raw hunger that never seemed to leave him, no matter how much he consumed. The sight of Mark's bulge in underwear was burned into his brain, a constant reminder of the monster he was becoming.

But it wasn't just the physical changes that were worrying Dave. It was the way Mark talked about his weekends, the way his eyes would glaze over when he spoke of his exploits. It was as if he was being consumed from the inside out by something he didn't—or couldn't—control. And as the days grew shorter, the nights colder, Dave knew that whatever was happening to Mark was coming to a head, and he wasn't sure he was ready to face it.

In the locker room, Mark's presence was like a force of nature. He stood at 7'6 now, his body a monument to unbridled power. The locker room lights glinted off his sweat-slicked skin, the shadows playing over the cobblestone of his abs, the canyons of his chest. His shoulders brushed the ceiling tiles, the muscles there so pronounced that Dave could see the individual fibers rippling beneath the surface. His legs, thicker than tree trunks, were covered in a criss crossed pattern of veins and topped in a fine dusting of hair that trailed down to his ankles. And his cock...it was a beast unto itself, thick and heavy, hanging low between his legs like a third, unruly limb, covered by thin layers of stretched out underwear fabric.

The locker room was silent as the other officers moved around him, giving him a wide berth. Mark's laugh echoed off the tiles, a sound that was more akin to a roar than a chuckle. His teeth had grown even sharper, his eyes now a piercing blue that seemed to glow with an otherworldly light. The air was charged with a tension that made the hairs on Dave's arms stand on end.

While Mark changes into his uniform pants, Dave watched as Mark bent over to grab his duffel bag, his ass a sculpted masterpiece, the muscles clenching and releasing like a heartbeat. The fabric of his underwear was stretched so tight it was almost translucent, and the head of his cock was visible, a swollen purple cap that seemed to pulse with each breath he took. It was impossible not to stare, not to feel a mix of revulsion and fascination at the sheer size of him.

The locker room door slammed open, and the sergeant stormed in, his face red with fury. "Officer Markovich, my office, now!"

Mark turned, his smile fading. "Yes, sir." His voice was calm, but the muscles in his jaw tightened, a vein popping out in his forehead. Dave followed him out, the weight of his gaze like a physical pressure.

In the sergeant's office, the air was thick with accusation. Mark leaned against the desk, his shoulders hunched, his eyes hooded. "What's the problem?" he asked, his voice a low growl, sitting at the desk as the chair squeaks under his weight.

The sergeant slapped a file on the desk, the sound echoing in the small space. "Steroids, Mark. We've had reports. The guys are getting suspicious."

Mark's grin grew wider. "Steroids?" He barked a laugh, the sound echoing in the room. "You think I'd risk my badge for some juice?"

Dave felt his stomach clench. He knew the truth was far more complicated than that.

The sergeant sighed. "We need to test you, Mark. Just to be sure."

Mark's smirk didn't falter. "Fine. But you're wasting your time." He flexed his massive bicep, the veins standing out like highways on a map. "This is all natural," he said, his hand drifting down to his crotch. The bulge there was even more pronounced than usual, the fabric of his pants stretched to the breaking point.

The test was swift and painless, a simple needle prick and a vial of blood drawn. But the wait was interminable. Dave watched Mark, his eyes never leaving the bulge that seemed to grow larger every second. Mark caught his gaze and smirked, his hand sliding over the thickened fabric. "It's all just my natural testosterone," he murmured, his voice a dark promise.

The results came back the next day, and the sergeant's face was a picture of confusion. "Negative," he said, holding up the paper. "But that's impossible."

Mark took the paper with a shrug, his eyes gleaming. "Not for me," he said, his voice smug.

Dave knew he had to get to the bottom of this. He approached Mark as they left the office, his voice low. "What have you done?"

Mark's eyes narrowed, the muscles in his neck standing out like cords. "I told you, Dave. I'm just...evolving."

"But you're human," Dave whispered, his voice shaking.

Mark's eyes flashed, and he snarled, his teeth bared. "Don't you get it, Dave? I'm not just human anymore." The sound of his voice was like thunder, resonating in the small office space.

Dave took a step back, his hand on his gun. "What are you?"

"I'm something more," Mark said, his voice dropping to a purr. "Something better."

The next few weeks were a blur of patrols, reports, and whispers. Rachel, Mark's alternate partner, pulled Dave aside one day. "You've noticed, right?" she asked, her voice low and urgent. "His...appetites."

Dave nodded, his eyes not leaving Mark across the room. "What's going on with him?"

Rachel leaned closer, her breath warm in his ear. "The other day, we got a call to the corner store. When I came back from the bathroom, he was in the stockroom with the sales clerk." She swallowed hard. "They were...going at it. Like animals."

The revelation hit Dave like a punch to the gut. He had suspected, but to hear it confirmed was another thing entirely. He had to get to the bottom of this, before Mark's transformation consumed him completely.

The tension in the precinct grew with every passing day. Mark strutted through the halls like a peacock in heat, his muscles flexing with every movement, his eyes always scanning for a challenge. His muscles flexed under his compression shirt with the slightest movement, rippling and ready to strike. The other officers gave him a wide berth, whispers of fear and awe following in his wake. His arrogance had grown as monstrous as his physique, and his bullying had escalated to a new, uncomfortable level. He took to slamming locker doors and banging on desks, his deep, guttural laughter echoing through the building. His appetite was insatiable, not just for food, but for power and dominance.

Dave tried to keep his head down, to ignore the sideways glances and the way Mark's gaze lingered on him when he thought he wasn't looking. But it was getting harder and harder to pretend that everything was normal. The air between them was thick with the scent of something unspoken, a tension that was as palpable as the thick bulge in Mark's pants.

One evening, as they were getting ready to clock out, Mark sauntered over to Dave's desk, his muscles rippling beneath his tight shirt.

"You up for some combat training?" Mark asked, his grin predatory.

Dave felt his heart rate spike. "Sure," he managed, swallowing hard. He couldn't refuse, not with the way Mark's eyes were burning into him.

They made their way to the empty training room, the echo of their footsteps bouncing off the mats. Mark's workout gear clung to his body like a second skin, showcasing every inch of his newfound power. His oversized triple XL fit more like a compression shirt, each muscle rolling with pure strength and a primal energy. Dave couldn't help but stare at the thick bulge that dominated the front of his shorts, his own cock stirring in his pants despite his fear.

They began to wrestle, Mark's massive body pressing down on him, his pecs pushing into Dave's face, smothering him. The scent of sweat and musk filled Dave's nose, making his head spin. He could feel the heat of Mark's cock against his thigh, a thick, heavy presence that seemed to pulse in time with his racing heart. Mark's grunts grew louder, his breath hot against Dave's ear, as he used his newfound strength to pin him down.

Dave's arms flailed, trying to push Mark off, but it was like trying to move a mountain. Mark's muscles bulged and rolled, each flex sending a fresh wave of panic through his body. A small part of Dave liked the friction, the feeling of being crushed by this mountain of a man, but Dave pushed those thoughts away. And then, Mark leaned in closer, his teeth bared, his eyes burning with an intensity that was almost sexual. "Give up?" he whispered, his breath hot against Dave's cheek.

Dave nodded, his face buried in Mark's chest, the fabric of his shirt damp with sweat. The pressure on his lungs was unbearable, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Mark's grin grew wider, and he let out a low growl of victory before releasing his hold, allowing Dave to stumble to his feet, gasping for air. "You're getting weaker, Dave," Mark said, his voice a taunt. He bounced his pecs, the fabric of the shirt moving. “Or maybe I’m just getting stronger” Mark sneered, his hand caressing his abs. 

Dave stepped back, trying to put some distance between them. His eyes were on Mark's crotch, where the bulge had grown even more pronounced during their struggle. "What the hell is happening to you?" he whispered, his voice shaking.

"You're just not keeping up," Mark said with a smirk, adjusting himself. He flexed his arms, the muscles swelling before Dave's eyes. "It's all part of the evolution, buddy."

The tension in the room was palpable, the air crackling with it. Dave couldn't tear his gaze away from Mark, his mind racing. He had to figure out what was happening, had to find a way to stop it before it was too late.

The days turned into weeks, and Mark's appetites grew more and more insatiable. His need for dominance, for power, was like a black hole, sucking in everything around him. The whispers grew louder, the fear more pronounced. The other officers talked in hushed tones about Mark's late-night escapades, the way he had of making anyone who crossed his path submit to his will. Dave felt like he was watching a horror movie, unable to look away from the screen, even as the monster grew closer.

One night, after a particularly nasty call, they found themselves alone before heading back to the station. The silence was a living thing, wrapping around them like a noose. Mark leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his chest, his biceps bulging.

"So, what's the deal, Mark?" Rachel asked, her voice tight with tension. "You're not exactly subtle anymore."

Mark's grin was feral. "What can I say?" He flexed his arms, his sleeves straining at the seams. "I'm just...more."

Dave felt his own body respond to the sight, his cock thickening despite the fear that was a constant companion. "You're not just...evolving," he said, his voice low. "You're becoming something else."

Rachel nodded, her eyes on Mark's bulge. "It's like you're feeding on...something."

Mark's smile grew wider. "Maybe I am." He stepped closer to Rachel, his massive form casting a shadow over her. "But you know what, Rachel? It's not just about the power." His hand brushed her arm, the touch electric. "It's about the thrill of the hunt. The taste of fear. The rush of...conquest." His eyes flicked to Dave, a knowing look in them.

Rachel took a step back, her hand moving to her gun. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Mark growled, his voice dropping an octave, "that I want more."

The door to the room slammed open, and Mark was on the criminal in a heartbeat, his massive body moving with a fluid grace that was almost inhuman. The thug didn't stand a chance, his eyes widening in terror as Mark's hands closed around his neck. Rachel watched in awe as Mark lifted the man with one hand, his muscles flexing like steel cables.

The sound of bone cracking filled the room, and the criminal dropped to the floor, unconscious. Mark stood over him, his chest heaving, his erection tenting his shorts. "You okay, Rachel?" he asked, not bothering to hide his arousal.

Rachel nodded, her eyes wide. "Yeah," she managed. "But you...you're..."

Mark's grin was smug. "Yeah, I know." He adjusted his crotch, his hand lingering. "It's part of the package."

As they dragged the thug out to the cruisher, Dave couldn't help but feel like a third wheel, his body responding in ways he didn't understand. Mark's scent was in the air, a heady mix of sweat and something...else. It made his blood boil, his cock pulse.

In the car on the way back to the station, the tension was thick. Mark sat in the back, his thighs spread, his bulge a challenge. Rachel kept sneaking glances at him in the rearview mirror, her expression a mix of fear and desire.

Dave's mind raced. How had his friend become this...this creature? And what did it mean for all of them?

The ride was a silent battle of wills, Mark's power a living, breathing presence in the car. His hand drifted down to his crotch, a casual gesture that was anything but. Rachel's eyes flicked to the rearview, watching his hand as it began to move. Dave's eyes were glued to the road, but he could feel the heat coming off Mark in waves. Dave swore he heard Mark mutter “God, I need to fuck” to himself. 

When they pulled into the station, Mark was fully hard, his cock a thick, angry beast that seemed to demand attention, throbbing against his pants. Rachel's breath was shallow, her hand shaking as she opened the elevator door. "I...I think I'll take the next one," she said, her voice shaky, yet turned on.

Mark's grin was pure predator. "Chicken," he said, his voice a dark promise.

Dave followed Mark into the precinct, his mind racing. He had to get to the bottom of this, before it was too late for all of them.

The whispers grew into shouts, the fear in the station a tangible force. Mark's appetites were no longer a secret, and the officers talked openly of his nightly escapades. The rumors of his monstrous size grew more and more outlandish, his feats of strength the stuff of legend. 

Dave couldn't help but feel a mix of dread and fascination as he watched Mark from a distance. His body was a testament to the power that surged through him, his every move a silent declaration of his dominance. When the day's patrols were done, and the night shift was about to begin, they made their way to the locker room. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and musk, the room dimly lit by flickering fluorescents.

Mark's underwear clung to him like a second skin, the grey fabric stretched to the breaking point. His cock was a massive, heavy presence, the head of it visible even through the tight fabric. His ass was a sculpted marvel, the muscles there so defined they looked like they could crack walnuts. As he turned to head into his own shower, Dave couldn't help but stare, his heart racing. The sight of Mark's glutes flexing, the fabric of his underwear barely covering them, was almost too much to bear. The bulge of his cock and balls was obscene, a promise of things to come that both terrified and excited him.

The water from the showers steamed up the room, creating a fog that made it difficult to see. Mark's form was like a specter, moving through the mist with the grace of a predator. His deep, resonant laugh echoed off the tiles, sending a shiver down Dave's spine. The sound of his body slapping against the walls, the water beating down on his flesh, was a symphony of power. Dave could almost feel the energy radiating off him, a force that was as irresistible as it was terrifying.

And then, the moaning started. It grew in volume, a deep, guttural sound that seemed to resonate through the very floor. Mark's hand was moving rapidly, the slap of flesh against flesh punctuating the silence like a drumbeat. "Fuck, I'm so big," he growled, his voice so low it was almost a bass note. "So fucking big." He let out a low guttural groan, moaning “So strong, fuck I’m huge.” 

Dave's own cock stirred in his pants, a traitorous response to the sound of Mark's pleasure. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he willed his body to behave. But it was like trying to hold back a river with his bare hands. The sounds grew louder, more intense, and Dave knew he couldn't take much more. Mark kept grunting “big, so big” with each slap of his flesh, not caring at all that his coworker was only a few stalls away and could hear him indulging in his size kink. Mark’s low whispers of “more” echoed throughout the locker room. Dave imagined Mark flexing with one arm while working himself with the other. What would it be like, he wondered, to stare up at Mark’s massive pecs in the shower and watch the beast get off on his own size?

Suddenly, it stopped. The silence was deafening, and Dave's heart hammered in his chest. And then, with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the building, Mark came. The sound was like thunder, echoing through the locker room, setting the towels hanging from the racks trembling. The shower stall was filled with a spray of cum, so much more than the last time. It was like a declaration of war, a sign of his dominance that could not be ignored. The steam lifted the smell of sex and Mark’s sheer power, amplifying it in the small locker room.

The water turned off, and the shower stall door slammed open. Mark emerged, his body gleaming with water, his cock still semi-erect and straining against his towel. He didn't bother to towel off, the water beading on his skin, running down his chest in rivulets. His eyes found Dave, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Like what you see?" he asked, his voice still that of a beast. Drops of cum dripped down onto the ground as he sauntered to his locker.

Dave forced himself to look away, his face burning with a mix of embarrassment and desire. He couldn't let Mark know the effect he was having on him. He couldn't let him see the conflict raging inside.

The tension in the locker room was thick enough to cut with a knife. The air was heavy with the scent of Mark's musk, his power a palpable presence that seemed to coat everything. The other officers avoided the showers now, choosing to clean up at home rather than face the monster that lurked within.

Dave's eyes drifted to the shower stall Mark had just vacated. The floor was a sea of cum, the white tile gleaming with the evidence of his monstrous orgasm. The force of it had been so intense that there was a hand-shaped hole in the tiles, the plaster around it cracked and chipped. It was as if the very essence of Mark's new nature had been expelled from his body, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

The cum was everywhere, a testament to Mark's insatiable hunger. It coated the walls of the stall, spattered on the floor, and even a rogue glob clung to the ceiling, defying gravity. The sight of it made Dave's own cock twitch in his pants, his mind racing with unwelcome images of Mark's massive cock.

A droplet of cum fell from above, landing on his forehead, cool and sticky. He swiped at it, disgust and fascination warring within him. The scent of it was intoxicating, a heady mix of sweat and something else, something primal and overwhelming. He couldn't help but lean closer, his nose flaring as he took in the scent.

And there it was, a trail of cum leading from the shower to Mark's locker, like a grim breadcrumb path in a twisted fairytale. The underwear lay discarded in the trash, shredded and stained, a sad testament to the struggle it had endured trying to contain the beast that was Mark.

Against his better judgment, Dave reached into the bin and pulled out the ruined fabric. It was soaked with cum and sweat, the material clinging to his hand like a desperate lover. He brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was a punch to the gut, a mix of musk and salt that made his cock pulse with a need he didn't fully understand. He shoved the underwear into his pocket, telling himself it was for evidence, but knowing deep down it was because he craved that connection to Mark.

The tank top lay discarded under the bench, a puddle of sweat spreading out around it like a dark stain. Dave's eyes traced the path of the stain, his thoughts racing. He leaned down, his hand hovering over the fabric. He could almost feel the warmth of Mark's body, the power that emanated from his sweat. He took a deep breath, then brought the fabric to his mouth, tentatively at first, then with more hunger. He licked the salty wetness, the taste of Mark's sweat on his tongue. It was like nothing he'd ever tasted before, a cocktail of desire and fear that made his heart race.

With trembling hands, he folded the tank top, his cock now painfully hard. He tucked it into his bag, trying to ignore the way it bulged against his thigh. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and lust, his body betraying his fear with every beat of his pulse.

As he left the station that night, the weight of the tank top and underwear in his bag was like a secret burden. He couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, expecting to see Mark's eyes on him, to feel his presence like a shadow at his back. But the precinct was quiet, the night outside a stark contrast to the tumult inside him.

At home, Dave spread the items out on his bed, the scent of Mark's sweat filling the room. He took out his own cock, stroking it as he thought of his partner's monstrous form, his powerful body, and the sounds he had made in the shower, imagining Mark’s massive muscular body in the state of ejaculation. The image was as terrifying as it was arousing, and he couldn't help but wonder if he would get to experience the beast and see the man’s cock for himself. The thought made him come with a moan that was part fear, part yearning.

The next day, the whispers grew louder, the fear more pronounced. Mark's power was no longer a secret, and the precinct was divided. Some were in awe of him, while others talked of transferring. The air was charged, the tension a living, breathing entity that no one knew how to deal with.

And through it all, Mark strutted like a peacock, his muscles flexing, his cock a constant presence. Every time he saw Dave, that knowing smirk played on his lips, as if he could read the dark desires that swirled in his mind. Dave felt his resolve wavering, his fear giving way to something else.

As they patrolled the streets, Dave couldn't help but watch Mark, his eyes drawn to the bulge in his partner's pants. The way his muscles rippled with every move, the power that rolled off him in waves. It was like watching a wild animal, untamed and dangerous. And he couldn't deny that he was drawn to it, his body responding in ways he didn't dare acknowledge.

Their calls grew more violent, the criminals bolder. It was as if the city itself knew that something had changed, that there was a new predator on the prowl. Mark reveled in it, his appetites growing with each victory, each show of power. And with every victory, his body grew more massive, more primal.

Dave knew he couldn't ignore the truth much longer. Mark was becoming something other than human, and he was taking everyone along for the ride. He had to figure out what was happening, had to find a way to stop it before it was too late. But as he stared into the abyss that was his partner's transformation, he couldn't help but feel a part of himself leaning in for a closer look.

Three weeks passed, and Dave found himself on an undercover assignment that took him away from the precinct, from Mark's terrifying embrace. It was a relief to be gone, but the fear remained, a constant knot in his stomach that no amount of food or sleep could loosen. He threw himself into his work, losing himself in the underbelly of the city, trying to find some semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos.

When he returned, the changes were immediately apparent. Mark had grown even larger, his muscles more defined, his eyes a piercing blue that seemed to see through to Dave's very soul. His voice was a deep, rumbling bass that made the floor tremble, his presence a palpable force that was impossible to ignore. The other officers looked at him with a mix of awe and fear, their whispers even more fervent than before.

Dave couldn't help but stare as Mark sailed through the station, his steps powerful and sure. The tank top and underwear that Dave had stolen had been so snug on Mark’s body three weeks ago would now laughably small, relics of a past that seemed like a distant memory. Mark's cock was a constant presence, a thick, pulsing reminder of his dominance, thrumming against his pants. And yet, as Dave watched him, he felt his own body responding, his cock growing hard in his pants. It was as if Mark's very essence was a drug, addictive and all-consuming.

The tension between them was unbearable, a tightrope stretched to breaking point. Every pat-down, every handcuffing, was a dance of power and submission, a silent conversation that neither of them could escape. And when the sergeant called them into his office, Dave knew the moment of truth had arrived. The look in Mark's eyes was one of pure challenge, his smile a promise of things to come.

The door to the sergeant's office slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing in the small room. Mark leaned against the desk, his muscles bulging. Mark’s pecs flexed, his powerful, basketball sized deltoids threatening to tear his uniform. "Well, Dave," he said, his voice a low purr, "You're back. Did you miss me?"

Dave swallowed hard, his eyes locked on Mark's crotch. "Yeah," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I did."

The sergeant entered and cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Gentlemen," he began, his voice strained, "We need to talk about the...incidents."

Mark's grin was unbearable, a knowing smirk that spoke volumes. He stood up straight, his body now a towering 8 feet of pure, unbridled power. His tan skin stretched over muscles that seemed to have a life of their own, each ridge and vein popping with the slightest movement. His uniform was a joke, the fabric straining against his massive frame, threatening to tear at any moment.

Dave couldn't help but stare at Mark's face, his jaw now square and heavy with muscle, his nose slightly flattened as if it had been broken one too many times. His eyes, those piercing blue orbs, bore into him, reading his every thought. His hair had grown thicker, longer, and darker, brushing his broad shoulders in a way that made him look more beast than man.

The sergeant's desk looked like a child's playset next to Mark, his bulging biceps resting on the edge, his hands massive and powerful. His neck was thick and corded, the tendons standing out as he spoke, and his chest was a broad plateau of muscle, the deep grooves of his abs leading down to the waistband of his pants. His uniform was stretched out so thin it was almost see through. He spoke, a low rumble, his tendons moving like piano keys as his jaw flexed “What incidents…sir?” 

The sergeant's voice grew firmer. "Mark, your...condition is becoming a problem."

Mark's eyes narrowed, his teeth bared in a snarl. "Problem?" he rumbled, his voice a low, threatening growl.

Dave's eyes dropped to Mark's crotch, where the bulge was now monstrous. It was like a beast waiting to be unleashed, pulsing and heavy with promise. The scent of Mark's power filled the room, making it hard to breathe, making it hard to think.

The sergeant leaned back in his chair, his hand hovering over the phone. "We need to get you some help," he said, his voice shaking.

Mark leaned in, his massive frame casting a shadow over the desk. "Do you?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper. "Or do you just need to get out of my way?"

The room was silent, the air electric. Dave's heart hammered in his chest, his eyes flicking from Mark to the sergeant and back again. He could see the fear in the sergeant's eyes, the desperate attempt to maintain control.

And then, with a sudden, explosive movement, Mark's hand shot out, grabbing the sergeant by the throat. The chair toppled backward, the sound of it hitting the floor lost in the roar of Mark's anger. "I don't need help," he snarled. "What I need is to be left alone."

Dave took a step back, his hand going to his gun. "Mark, please," he said, his voice shaking. "Don't do this."

Mark's gaze never left the sergeant's face, his grip tightening. "You're all just...so small," he said, his voice filled with disgust. "So weak."

He released the sergeant with a shove, the older man wheezing and clutching at his throat. "But look at what I've become," Mark said, flexing his arms. His biceps bulged, each one easily the size of a watermelon. The room seemed to shrink around him as he stepped closer to Dave, the floorboards creaking under his weight. "This is what keeps the scum of this city in line," he said, his eyes blazing. Dave could feel angry heat radiating off the man as he stared up at Mark, the beast’s chest blocking his view of the rugged yet handsome animalistic face. 

The sergeant coughed, struggling to stand. The other officers in the room took a collective step back, their fear palpable. Mark didn't seem to notice or care. "This," he said, slapping his chest, "This is power. I am power.” 

The precinct had grown quiet, the only sounds Mark's heavy breathing and the distant sirens. "I've done what none of you could," he continued, his voice a deep rumble. "I've made this city safer. And it's all because of what I am."

Dave's hand hovered over his gun, his mind racing. He could feel the tension in the room, the fear and awe of Mark's fellow officers. The monster before him was a stark reminder of the man he'd once called a friend.

With a sneer, Mark bent down to Dave's level, his breath hot and damp against his ear. "You want to stop me?" he whispered. "You couldn't even if you tried." Chills raced down Dave’s spine as Mark’s low rumble ran through him. 

Dave didn't move, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew Mark was right. The power that surged through Mark's veins was something he could never hope to match. No prison could hold him, hell, he had watched Mark punch through a solid concrete, rebar reinforced door to make an arrest just the other day. Bullets seemed to have no impact on the man, aside from making him angry.  The other officers murmured in agreement, their voices a mix of admiration and dread.

The sergeant managed to straighten his tie, his eyes never leaving Mark's. "We're not questioning your effectiveness," he said, his voice hoarse. "But we need to...understand what's happening."

Mark's smile was cold, his eyes gleaming with a feral light. "What's happening," he said, "Is that I'm evolving. And you're all just...stuck here."

The room was silent for a moment, then the murmurs grew again, the officers looking at each other with a mix of fear and fascination. The sergeant opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out.

With a sigh, Mark turned away, his massive back a wall of muscle that seemed to block out the light. "Fine," he said, his voice echoing in the small space. "But know this: I am the law now. And no one, not even you," he said, jabbing a finger in the sergeant's direction, "Can control me."

The sergeant nodded, his face pale. The others murmured their agreement, their eyes downcast. Mark had made his point, and it was clear he was in charge now.

As everyone else slowly filed out of the room, Dave remained by his desk, his heart still racing. He stared at the mountain of paperwork that had piled up over the weeks, trying to focus on anything but the monster that Mark had become. His eyes kept drifting to the bulge in Mark's pants, the reminder of his power an unwelcome distraction.

He picked up a pen, trying to ignore the scent of Mark's musk that seemed to cling to everything. His hand was shaking, and he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The whispers grew quieter as the officers returned to their duties, the weight of Mark's words hanging in the air.

Dave started filling out forms, his mind racing. He had to find out more about this transformation, had to understand it. And he had to do it before Mark lost what was left of his humanity.

The precinct was a minefield of glances and whispers. Everyone knew what had happened in the sergeant's office, and everyone was giving him a wide berth. Rachel avoided his gaze as she passed by, her eyes haunted. She knew, too.

Hours ticked by and it was late. Everyone left, the only ones left in the bullpen were Dave and the silverfish. The paperwork was a blur, his thoughts consumed by Mark. How could he have let it get this far? How could he have missed the signs? And what the hell was he supposed to do now?

The sound of the locker room door slammed shut, jolting Dave from his thoughts. He froze, his hand hovering over the paperwork. That wasn't right. Mark had left for his shift hours ago. He looked around, the precinct unusually quiet. Most of the officers were out on patrol, leaving the station almost deserted. His heart pounded as he heard the unmistakable sounds of movement, of something heavy and powerful coming from the locker room.

Slowly, he pushed his chair back, the squeak of the wheels seeming to echo through the empty halls. He tiptoed down the corridor, his hand on his gun, his senses on high alert. The sounds grew clearer, more defined: the thump of heavy footsteps, the grunt of effort, the rustle of fabric. He reached the locker room door and pressed his ear to the cool metal, listening.

The door was slightly ajar, the light from the room spilling out into the hallway. He could see shadows moving, hear the occasional clang of metal on metal. His heart racing, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open just a crack.

The sight that greeted him was one he'd never expected. Mark was there, standing in the center of the room, his body even more massive than it had been that morning. His enormous legs were apart, knees slightly bent, his feet planted firmly on the ground, as if he were daring the very earth to move. His head was thrown back, his teeth bared in a snarl, as he flexed his muscles. He was wearing a tank top that was several sizes too small, the threads already starting to snap, tears in the fabric imminent. His thin underwear was barely holding on, the boxer briefs looking more like posers from the back, the massive globes of Mark’s ass swallowing the fabric. He loomed over someone, and when he grunted with his next flex and breath, he moved just enough to let Dave recognize the face. 

Officer Ted Reynolds standing before him, his eyes wide and his mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. His own hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking in time with Mark's flexes. The rookie's head barely came up to the middle of Mark's abs, and he looked like a child next to the towering behemoth. He stared at the beast, transfixed. 

Mark rolled his enormous shoulders and flexed his arm, pointing his elbow to the sky and exposing a deep armpit lush with hair, the stale air immediately becoming permeated with his musky, sweaty, heady scent. Mark growled “fuckkkk” as his scent hit the air, the beast enjoying his scent and dominance.

Mark then grinned cockily and shifted his pose, flexing a double biceps while staring at himself in the mirror, seemingly ignoring Reynolds in front of him while letting out low moans and growls. The chain around his neck bulged, the metal threatening to snap under all the powerful tendons and muscles. When Mark spread his lats, Dave heard a snap, the thick muscle destroying the flimsy excuse for a shirt. Mark's tank top was in tatters, his massive chest hairy and powerful, the muscles there flexing and rolling like the ocean. Each pec jutted out a foot in front of Mark, the thick mounds of meat throbbing like they were begging to be touched.

Mark’s chest heaved with each deep breath as he rubbed his hands up and down his abs, his electric eyes transfixed on his form. He snarled and bounced the pecs in sync three times, his eyes delighting in the sensation. He then squeezed his pec with his massive veined hand, almost kneading it. The fabric of his underwear was stretched to the breaking point, the outline of his cock and balls clearly visible. It was like a cloth cage, desperately trying to contain the beast that was Mark. Dave heard a low snarl rumble out, “Did you bring a tribute for your alpha?” He watched as Reynolds nodded, the rookie breathlessly whispering “Yes. I sent $3000.” Mark rumbled a low growl “Good boy” followed by a slow, sharp inhale and another pose. 

Dave's own cock twitched in his pants, the sight of Mark's power too much to ignore. He watched, transfixed, as Mark's muscles bulged and grew, his body a sculpture of raw, primal need. The air was thick with the scent of musk and desire, the room pulsing with it.

Mark leered down at Reynolds, Reynold’s face partially blocked by Mark’s pecs. Then, with a smirk that was all teeth, Mark flexed again, bouncing his pecs and ripping through the remaining shredded fabric of his top. "Worship me," he growled, the sound vibrating the very air around him.

Reynolds, eyes glazed with lust, began to rub his hands over Mark's bulging biceps, his voice trembling as he spoke, "You're so big, Mark. The biggest alpha I've ever seen."

Mark laughed darkly, growling “Yeah, I am. No one is this big, are they?” He flexed and his cock strained against his grey underwear, the fabric now soaked with the precum that leaked from his beast of a cock. His pre was like a beacon, calling out to those who dared to approach. It was a declaration of his power, a scent that spoke of his dominance.

Reynolds' hands moved from the biceps to Mark's abs, tracing the deep grooves, his own cock now rock hard against Mark's tree trunk of a thigh. He leaned in, pressing his face against the massive slab of muscle, his tongue darting out to lick at the salty sweat that coated Mark's skin. "You're so...so big," he murmured, his voice muffled by the wall of flesh.

Mark chuckled, his deep, rumbling laugh echoing in the locker room. "That's right," he said, flexing again, his abs tightening so that Reynolds' face was pushed back. "I'm huge, aren't I?"

The rookie nodded, his eyes glazed with lust as he stared up at Mark. "Yes," he whispered. "You're the biggest...the strongest."

Mark's chest swelled with pride, his cock pulsing in response to the worship. He grabbed Reynolds by the back of the neck, pulling him closer. "Keep going," he urged, his voice a low growl. "Worship me. All of me."

With a grin that was all teeth, he picked the rookie up and pushed the man’s face into the valley between his pecs. The sound of flesh on flesh filled the room as he squeezed, his massive biceps bulging with the effort. "Look how big I am," Mark moaned, his voice thick with desire. "Can you feel it?"

Reynolds' muffled cries of pleasure were all the answer Mark needed, rubbing the small man against his expansive pecs and abs. He squeezed harder, his chest muscles flexing and rippling. The rookie's hands roamed over his body, feeling the power beneath the skin, tracing the veins that stood out like highways on a map of power. Mark's cock grew even harder, straining against the fabric of his underwear, desperate to be released.

Finally, with a grunt, Mark set Reynolds down on his trembling legs. He stood to his full height, no longer crouching with his head brushing the ceiling, his chest heaving. His cock was now above the rookie's face, the fabric of his underwear dark with precum, leaking a trail down to the floor. "Look at me," he demanded, his eyes blazing with a primal hunger. "Look how huge I am."

Reynolds looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire. He reached out a shaking hand, tracing the outline of Mark's cock through the soaked fabric. "I...I can't believe it," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

Mark's smile grew wider, his teeth sharp and pointed. "You'd better," he said, his voice a dark promise. "Because this is just the beginning."

The precinct was forgotten, the fear of discovery a distant memory. Mark's hunger was all-consuming, his need for power and dominance a beast that demanded to be fed. He stepped closer, the scent of his arousal thick in the air, his pre leaking onto the floor, creating a sticky path that led to him.

Reynolds' hand trembled as he reached up, his fingertips brushing against the wet fabric. He looked up, his eyes meeting Mark's, and for a moment, they shared a silent understanding. Mark was no longer just a man. He was something more, something primal and unstoppable.

With a roar that shook the very foundations of the precinct, Mark's underwear gave way. The fabric tore like paper, unable to contain the monstrous cock that sprang forth, thick and veiny. It was a beast unto itself, angry and demanding, a symbol of his unbridled power.

Dave's eyes widened as he took in the sight from the crack in the door. He'd never seen anything so...so terrifyingly huge. Mark's cock was easily bigger than the size of Mark’s forearm, the mushroom-shaped head pulsing with every beat of his heart. His balls were massive, hanging low and heavy, the sound of them churning with cum a symphony of desire that filled the room.

The scent hit him like a wall, a fog of sweat, musk, and cum that was almost overpowering. It was the smell of a creature in rut, a scent that called to the most basic instincts within him. His own cock grew harder, straining against his pants, betraying his fear with a throb of pure, primal need.

Mark's hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the head coming to rest just above Reynold's face. The rookie's eyes were glued to the shaft, his tongue darting out to catch the first drops of precum that fell from the tip. He looked up at Mark, his eyes wide with wonder, and for a moment, it was as if he saw a god standing before him.

And then, with a groan that seemed to shake the room, Mark began to stroke himself, the motion slow and deliberate, Mark staring at his reflection of his massive cock and muscles, a predatory hunger shining in his eyes. The sound of his hand moving along his length was like a wet slap, echoing through the locker room. His pre spilled out, a river of it cascading onto Reynolds's face, coating him in the scent of the alpha's power. Mark stared at Reynolds’s pre covered face, spurred on by his own power.

Dave watched, his own hand moving to his own cock, unable to resist the urge to touch himself. He could feel the heat of Mark's arousal, the raw, unfiltered lust that washed over him. It was as if he was in the room with them, a participant in their twisted ritual of worship.

Mark's hand moved faster, his strokes becoming more erratic. His eyes never left Reynolds's, the two of them locked in a dance of dominance and submission. "Fuck," Mark grunted, his voice low and guttural. "I'm so big."

Reynolds nodded, his hands trembling as they moved up to Mark's abs, his fingers tracing the thick veins that led to the source of his power. He leaned in, his mouth open, his tongue flicking out to catch the precum that leaked from Mark's cock.

With a snarl, Mark grabbed the rookie's head, forcing it closer to his cock. "Worship me," he demanded, his voice a mix of pleasure and pain. "Tell me how big I am."

Reynolds moaned, his mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure as he licked and kissed Mark's shaft, his tongue tracing the thick veins that stood out like cords of steel. "So...so big," he murmured, his voice muffled by the flesh that surrounded him. "You're a monster."

The words hung in the air, a declaration of truth that seemed to only serve to fuel Mark's desire. He threw his head back, his teeth bared in a snarl of ecstasy as he stroked himself, the sound of his hand slapping against his flesh like a drumbeat of lust. With his other arm, he flexed his bicep, a symbol of his power.

With a roar, Mark grabbed Reynold's head with both hands, the rookie's eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. "You want it?" he demanded, his voice a deep, guttural growl. "You want this monster cock?"

Reynolds nodded frantically, his eyes never leaving Mark's. "Yes," he whispered, his voice a hoarse plea. "I want it. I want you."

And with that, Mark's cock was in Reynold's mouth, the rookie's eyes watering as he took the massive head. His cheeks hollowed as he tried to swallow, his throat stretching around the girth of Mark's cock. The sound of his gagging was music to Mark's ears, his strokes growing more erratic as he watched the man beneath him struggle to take him all. A sick grin twisted on Mark’s face as he basked in the pleasure.

Reynold's eyes rolled back in his head, his body trembling as Mark's cock pistoned in and out of his mouth, his throat tightening around the thick shaft. He could feel the heat of Mark's balls against his chin, the weight of his power a heavy burden he bore with pride.

Their eyes met again, Mark's filled with a fierce, possessive need that sent a shiver down Dave's spine. He watched as Mark's strokes grew faster, the veins in his cock pulsing with each thrust. The muscles in his abs clenched and released, his whole body a symphony of power and desire.

The scent of cum filled the air, thick and pungent, making Dave's own cock throb in his pants. He watched, his hand moving faster as Mark's face contorted with pleasure, his teeth bared in a snarl that was more beast than man.

With a roar that seemed to shake the very walls of the precinct, Mark pulled out of Reynold's mouth and stepped back. The rookie gasped for air, his cheeks flushed and eyes watering. Mark's cock bobbed in the air, thick and angry, the pre dripping from it like a waterfall.

With a swift, almost casual motion, Mark grabbed Reynold's body with one hand, hoisting him up as if he weighed nothing. The rookie's legs dangled in the air, his hands grasping at Mark's bicep for support. "You want more?" Mark growled, his voice deep and primal, “I’ll fuck you if you want”. 

Reynold's nodded eagerly, his mouth open in a silent plea for more. And then, with a grin that was all teeth, Mark positioned the rookie's ass over his cock and, with a single, powerful thrust, buried himself to the hilt, letting out a long “fuckkkkk” as his eyes became hooded with pleasure.

The sound that escaped from Reynold's mouth was somewhere between a scream and a moan, the pressure on Dave's cock unbearable as he watched Mark's body flex and tighten, his muscles rippling with the effort. Mark's free hand moved to his own bicep, flexing it as he stared at the massive mound of flesh. "Big," he murmured, the word a growl that seemed to resonate through the room.

He brought his nose to his bicep, inhaling deeply. "Beast," he whispered, the word a declaration of his power. "I'm a fucking huge beast."

Dave's hand stilled on his own cock, the sight of Mark's unbridled lust and power too much to bear. He watched as Mark began to fuck Reynold's ass with long, slow strokes, the rookie's body moving up and down like a ragdoll on the end of a string. The sound of their bodies slapping together was a rhythm of dominance, a beat that seemed to echo through the very walls of the precinct. 

Mark stood in front of the mirror as he moved Reynolds up and down his shaft, staring at the sight in the reflective surface. His eyes ablaze with something primal as he watched himself use the smaller officer like a fuck toy. Mark’s moans of “look at me” echo through the locker room’s metallic surfaces as he is turned on by his own raw power. “Fucking look at me, I’m enormous” he laughs as he drives Reynolds up and down his massive member.

Reynold's moans grew louder, his body trembling with each thrust. Mark's hand moved faster, his cock disappearing and reappearing in the rookie's ass, a blur of motion that was almost hypnotic. The sight of it was too much, and Dave felt his own orgasm building, his body responding to the raw, primal display before him.

Mark's eyes never left his reflection in the locker room mirror, his gaze intense and focused. He was a creature of power, a beast that had shed the shackles of humanity. His strokes grew more erratic, his breathing ragged as he approached the edge.

With a final sniff of his own armpit, Mark's nostrils flared, his eyes rolling back in his head. He roared, his body tensing as he released his seed. The sound of cum spurting was like a thunderclap in the small room, the scent of it suddenly overpowering.

The rookie's body convulsed in orgasm, his own cum spraying out to mingle with Mark's on the locker room floor. The room was bathed in the sticky evidence of their union, the air thick with the scent of sex and power.

With a final grunt, Mark pulled out, his cock still pulsing with his cum. He set Reynold's down gently, the rookie's legs buckling as he tried to stand. The smaller man was a wreck, his eyes glazed with pleasure, his body covered in a sheen of sweat and cum.

Reynold's chest heaved, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked up at Mark, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and fear. "Thank you," he murmured, the words barely audible.

Mark looked down at him, his own chest heaving, his muscles still flexing with the aftermath of his climax. He chuckled, the sound low and dark. "You're welcome," he said, his voice a rumble. "But remember, this is just the beginning."

He stepped back, and continued to spew out cum. Minutes later, with his cock finally going semi- hard, the last drops of cum drip onto the floor. The room was a mess, the floor a sticky tapestry of lust and power. Dave swallowed hard, his hand still wrapped around his own cock, the stickiness on his hand a reminder of what he'd just witnessed.

As Mark pulled on a clean pair of underwear and a uniform, Dave couldn't help but stare at the trail of cum that led from the locker room to the shower. He knew he'd have to clean it up, but he couldn't bring himself to move, his legs feeling like jelly. He watches Mark struggle to put on a compression shirt and perhaps it was the sheen of sweat covering Mark’s body and a trick of the light, but he swore he saw Mark’s muscles bulge and swell with power, almost as if they were getting bigger. 

When Mark left through the back door, the tension in the room dissipated slightly, allowing Dave to catch his breath. He quickly stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, and took in the scene. Cum was everywhere: on the benches, the lockers, and even splattered against the walls. It was as if a monster had been let loose in the precinct's most sacred space. The scent of Mark’s sweaty armpit still,hangs in the air, a musk that permeates the space. 

Reynold's was sitting on the floor, his legs spread out in front of him, his own cum mixing with the puddle that had formed around him. His eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his face. "You okay?" Dave asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Reynold's opened his eyes, a far-off look in them. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "He's so...so big."

Dave looked down, his gaze following the trail of Mark's cum to where it ended between the rookie's legs. The sight of it made him shiver, his own cock still half-hard in his pants. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "What happened here?" he asked, playing the part of the oblivious cop who had just returned from a call.

Reynold's looked up at him, his eyes glazed with a mix of lust and fear. "It was...amazing," he whispered, his cheeks flushing. "He's so powerful."

Dave nodded, his hand still wrapped around the doorknob. "I can see that," he said, his voice flat.

He took a step into the room, the floor sticky under his shoes. The scent of sex and power was overwhelming, a heady aroma that seemed to cling to his skin. He took another deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Reynold's looked up at him, his expression a mix of awe and terror. "You should...you should see him," he murmured. "He's like a god."

Dave nodded, his eyes never leaving the rookie's. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "But for now, let's just get cleaned up."

He walked over to the supply closet and grabbed a mop and some cleaning supplies. The sound of his own footsteps echoed through the locker room, the only other noise the occasional drip of cum from the ceiling hitting the floor. He knew he had to act fast, before anyone else came back from patrol.

He started with the benches, the mop sticking to the cum as he moved it back and forth. The sound of fabric against flesh was almost obscene in the quiet room, the only other sounds his own ragged breaths and the occasional whimper from Reynolds, who was still experiencing aftershocks of pleasure from the orgasm. “He’s such a beast,” said Reynolds in a blissed out sigh of satisfaction “and he’s going to get bigger.” Dave stared at the ground, not sure if the precinct or even city could handle a bigger Mark, but torn with a twisted desire to see Mark even more powerful.

As he worked, he couldn't help but think about Mark's transformation, about the power that now pulsed through the precinct like a living entity. He knew that he was a part of it now, a witness to something that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Finally, the room was as clean as he could make it, the evidence of Mark's dominance all but erased. Cracked tiles in the shape of a hand were stuck in the wall He helped Reynold's to his feet, the rookie leaning heavily on him. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Reynold's nodded, his eyes still glazed with desire. "More than okay," he murmured. "I feel so—he felt so good. I've never felt so alive."

Dave couldn't argue with that. The air in the locker room was charged, the very essence of power and submission hanging in the air like a thick fog. He knew that Mark was no longer just a man, no longer just a coworker. He was something else entirely, something that none of them could ever fully comprehend.

And as he guided Reynold's out of the locker room and back to the precinct's bullpen, he couldn't shake the feeling that their lives had just changed forever.

To be continued.

[OldFashioned]

*Sigh*… I guess this is my thing now…

This should be in the AI section

[aspenrepublic]

Good story!

[Ro20316]

Mark is evolving to eb an alpha and those around him his worshipers will Dave become one? I guess we will have to wait and read

[xmrr20a]

Looking forward to where this goes. Loving it!

 

[Lutz]

10 hours ago, OldFashioned said:

*Sigh*… I guess this is my thing now…

This should be in the AI section

How do you make out that it is AI? 

[OldFashioned]

5 hours ago, Lutz said:

How do you make out that it is AI? 

It’s pretty obvious if you know what to look for, but if English isn’t your native language and/or you don’t do a lot of critical reading, I can understand why you might think this is normal or even “good”.

On a surface level, it’s just very repetitive. For example the word “whisper” or some form of it is used 25 times here, which doesn’t sound like a lot but it is. Also AI likes to use a few turns of phrases that someone (very misguidedly) taught it are “good writing” like “silent _____”, “symphony of ________”, “dance of _____” There’s probably more, but those stick out. The sentence structure is also very repetitive, to the point that it can’t really be chalked up to someone who just isn’t a strong writer. 
 

Bigger picture though, there’s no real voice, and very little narrative memory. AI can stay consistent for a few paragraphs and generate a technically correct short scene, but when you try to expand the scope, it seems to forget what happened previously. It’s heavy on the details but noticeably light on dialogue, and that dialogue is again, repetitive and (can be) unnatural. Again, by themselves these aren’t sure signs that it’s AI, maybe just someone working on their writing skills, but altogether, very clearly generated by AI.

[dredlifter]

43 minutes ago, OldFashioned said:

On a surface level, it’s just very repetitive.

Agreed on this part, that's the giveaway. 

All in all it's a pretty good effort as far as AI goes.  I enjoyed the story but yes I could tell pretty quickly that it was AI.  I would venture that the author did some work on it as well, so it was probably a combined effort. 

But yes, throughout the story it repeats phrases, situations and dialogue.  Also you'll notice there are hardly any stats.  I think we get two instances where a height is given but that's it. I would almost guess those were manual input. AI still isn't to the point where it can do stats so that's evidence as well. 

Like I said, for the most part I was able to enjoy it, but yes I agree it should probably be in the AI section. 

[Burner42]

Link to Part One
 

Part Two — The Assignment

A few days later, Mark returned to the station, and it was clear that his transformation had not ceased. He was even more massive than before, his uniform barely able to contain his newfound bulk. The fabric of his shirt was stretched to the limits, the buttons threatening to pop with every movement, and his pants looked like they'd been painted on. His muscles bulged in ways that seemed impossible, his shoulders so wide they brushed the walls as he walked, his chest a mountain range of power that no mere mortal could hope to 

The other officers took in the sight of him, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and awe. Mark strutted through the station, his swagger that of a man who knew he was in complete control. His jaw was now squared with an almost inhuman angle, his teeth sharper than ever before, hinting at the beast that lurked beneath the surface. His eyes had changed too, now glowing a deep, piercing blue that seemed to bore into the very soul of anyone who dared to look at him.

Dave couldn't help but feel a strange mix of attraction and repulsion. Mark's dominance was undeniable, his power a siren's call that resonated deep within him. Yet, as a fellow officer, he knew he had to maintain a professional distance. He watched from the sidelines, his hand subconsciously drifting to the spot where he'd stowed the cum-soaked underwear and tank top, the fabric a constant reminder of the beast he'd witnessed in the locker room.

But Mark's arrogance was palpable, his every move and word a declaration of his superiority. The tension in the precinct was thick, a tightly coiled spring ready to snap at any moment. Even the sergeant seemed to tiptoe around him, their previous confrontation still fresh in everyone's minds. The other officers were careful not to meet Mark's gaze, their eyes dropping to the floor as he passed. It was clear that he reveled in their fear, his smirks and flexes serving to reinforce his position as the alpha male in their midst.

Dave felt it too, the urge to submit to Mark's power, to acknowledge the primal force that he'd seen unleashed. He knew it was wrong, that he should be afraid, but there was something about Mark's transformation that called to him on a level he didn't quite understand. His own body responded to the challenge, his cock swelling in his pants as he watched the monstrous officer move with a grace that belied his size.

He tried to push the thoughts away, focusing on his paperwork, his eyes darting to Mark every few minutes. The sound of the monster’s heavy boots echoing through the station was a constant reminder of his presence. Yet, as the days passed, it became harder and harder to resist the allure of Mark's dominance, the scent of his natural authority a constant presence that seemed to seep into every corner of the precinct.

The office gossip grew bolder, the rumors more outrageous. Some spoke of Mark's exploits outside the station, of his prowess in the streets, of the way he could lift a car with one hand. Others spoke of his sexual appetites, of the men and women who willingly submitted to him, their bodies trembling with desire as he claimed them. Dave knew that he couldn't ignore the truth much longer, that he'd have to confront his feelings for Mark, his fear and his fascination. But for now, he remained silent, watching and waiting, his hand hovering over the gun in his holster, unsure of what the future held.

As Mark passed by his desk, his massive frame casting a shadow over the mundane paperwork, Dave felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. Mark's eyes met his, the blue orbs holding his gaze for a moment before moving on, leaving Dave feeling both exposed and electrified. He knew that he couldn't keep watching from the sidelines much longer. He had to make a choice: to stand up to Mark, or to kneel before him.

And yet, the thought of kneeling before the beast, of feeling that power firsthand, was intoxicating. His hand strayed to his crotch, his own cock thick and demanding, responding to the call of Mark's dominance. He took a deep breath, trying to push the thought away, but it was no use. The fragrant aroma of Mark lingered in the air, a potent aphrodisiac that clouded his judgment.

Their paths crossed again in the hallway, the tension between them palpable. Mark's bicep brushed against Dave's shoulder, the touch electric. He stumbled slightly, his body betraying him as he felt the heavy weight of Mark's cock against his thigh. Mark's eyes flicked down, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Careful," he rumbled, his voice a low growl that seemed to vibrate through Dave's bones.

Dave's cheeks flushed with heat, his hand moving to cover the obvious bulge in his own pants. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice tight.

Mark's smile grew wider, his teeth sharp and predatory. "Don't be," he said, his eyes lingering on Dave's crotch. "You know you want to."

With that, Mark strolled away, leaving Dave in the hallway, his heart racing. The encounter was brief, but it had left him reeling. He could feel Mark's gaze on him, even as the monstrous officer disappeared around the corner.

Dave took a moment to compose himself, his hand still pressed to the bulge in his pants. He knew he needed to get a grip, to push these thoughts aside. But as he walked back to his desk, his mind was a whirlwind of desire and fear. What would it be like to be taken by Mark? To feel those massive muscles, to be claimed by that monstrous cock?

The briefing room was packed when he arrived, the other officers looking at him with a mix of pity and curiosity. He took his seat next to Mark, the colossal cop's muscles spilling over the chair, the fabric of his shirt stretching to accommodate his new size. Mark's 56 inch legs were splayed wide, his crotch a mere inch from Dave's own, the heat from his body like a furnace.

Dave's eyes were drawn to the metal chain around Mark's neck, the same chain he'd seen in the locker room, now glinting in the harsh fluorescent lights. The sight of it sent a jolt of arousal through him, a reminder of the power Mark held, the strength that had overwhelmed Reynold's and fucked him stupid. He couldn't help but stare at the way Mark's clothes clung to him, the fabric struggling to contain his bulk.

The sergeant began to assign cases, his voice a drone that barely registered as Dave's eyes remained locked on Mark's body. And then, the words that changed everything: "Officers Mark and Dave, you'll be going undercover together."

The room seemed to still, the air thick with tension. Dave's heart skipped a beat as he looked up at Mark, his eyes wide. Mark's smirk was knowing, his gaze heavy with challenge. The thought of being alone with Mark, of being under his command, was both thrilling and terrifying.

The sergeant handed them a file, and as Dave took it, he felt Mark's hand brush against his, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. The smell of Mark's armpit hit him like a wave, that same intoxicating musk from the locker room, but stronger and heavier. He couldn't help but inhale, his body reacting to the scent of power.

Mark leaned in, his voice low and seductive. "Looking forward to working closely with you," he murmured, his breath hot against Dave's ear.

Dave swallowed hard, his grip on the file tightening. He knew he was in over his head, that Mark could sense his fear and desire. But he also knew that there was no turning back now. The die was cast, and he was about to enter the beast's den.

The sergeant's voice droned on, but Dave barely heard a word. His mind was racing with images of Mark's transformation, of his mammoth cock, of the way he'd taken Reynold's with such ease. He knew that he'd have to be careful, to keep his distance, but the allure was too strong.

As they left the briefing room, Mark's hand brushed against his back, a gentle, almost reassuring touch. "Don't worry," Mark whispered, his voice a purr. "I'll take good care of you."

Dave's stomach churned with a mix of dread and anticipation. An underground muscle worship competition was the last place he wanted to be, especially as Mark's partner. But there was no turning back now.

The sergeant had laid out the plan with a grim determination, his voice betraying the gravity of the situation. "Our intel suggests that the organizer of these competitions is a man named Viktor," he'd said, his eyes flicking over the file. "He's a bodybuilder, a real narcissist. He's been hiding in plain sight, using the events to fund his tax evasion and wire fraud. We need to win his trust, and the only way to do that is to win."

Mark's smile grew wider at the mention of the competition, his muscles flexing involuntarily. "I've got this," he'd said, his confidence unshakeable. "I'll be the biggest, the best."

Dave had felt the shift in the room, the air charged with excitement and fear. Mark was not just a participant; he was the prize, the ultimate specimen to be worshipped. And he was going to be the one to get them in.

"Dave," the sergeant began, his voice low and serious. "You're going to be Mark's...let's say, devoted follower." Dave felt his face heat up, his cock twitching in his pants. The idea was ludicrous, but also incredibly hot. He'd seen the way Mark dominated others, the power he wielded, and the thought of playing that role, of being so close to that strength, was intoxicating.

He looked over at Mark, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. The sergeant continued, "Your job will be to shower him with praise, make sure everyone knows he's the biggest and the best on stage. It's all part of the act."

Mark's leer was unmistakable, his eyes raking over Dave's body as if he could see through his clothes. "I think you'll make a fine worshipper," he said, his voice thick with amusement.

Dave swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. "But, sir," he began, "I'm not exactly...you know, into that scene."

Mark's smirk grew even wider. "Don't worry, Dave," he said, flexing his massive bicep. "You'll get into it."

The sergeant's eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer. "You'll do what's necessary to blend in," he said firmly. "We need to get close to Viktor, and if that means playing along with his games, then that's what we'll do."

Dave nodded, his heart racing. He could feel the weight of Mark's gaze on him, and he had to resist the urge to squirm. The idea of playing this role, of being so close to Mark in such an intimate setting, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

But as the sergeant continued to lay out their cover, Dave couldn't help but voice his concerns. "Won't it seem a bit obvious?" he asked, trying to keep the tremor from his voice. "I mean, you're...he's...nine feet tall!"

The room went quiet, the tension thick as a brick wall. Mark's smile never wavered, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "Nine foot four, actually," he corrected, his voice a low rumble.

Dave felt a flash of annoyance. "I'm just saying, it might seem a bit much. Like we're trying too hard."

Mark's expression darkened, his muscles tensing. "You think I can’t do it?" he snarled, his eyes flashing.

The sergeant stepped in, his voice firm. "Gentlemen, let's keep it professional." But the damage was done. The room was electric with tension, the air thick with the jolt of Mark's dominance.

Dave knew he'd pushed a button, and that he'd crossed a line. But he also knew that he couldn't back down now. "I'm just saying, we need to be careful," he murmured. "We don't want to blow our cover."

Mark's eyes narrowed, his teeth bared in a snarl. "You're just jealous you don't have these," he said, flexing his arms, the muscles bulging and straining against the fabric of his shirt. "Thirty-four-inch biceps."

Dave felt his own arms, pathetic in comparison, and had to fight the urge to flex back. Instead, he took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Mark's. "I'm not jealous," he said, his voice even. "I'm just trying to do my job."

The sergeant stepped between them, his own eyes flashing. "That's enough," he barked. "We're a team, and we're going to act like it."

The tension in the room was palpable, but Dave knew he had to push aside his fear and his burgeoning lust. They had a mission to accomplish, and he was going to do whatever it took to make it work. Even if it meant worshipping the monster that was Mark.

The sergeant cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Dave, you'll be playing the part of Mark's devoted fan, yes. But remember, it's all an act."

Dave nodded, his heart racing. He knew what he had to do, but the thought of getting closer to Mark, of playing into his games, was nerve-wracking. "I'll do my best," he murmured, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Mark leaned back in his chair, his massive chest puffing out. "No objections from me," he said, his voice smug. "It'll be fun to have someone to boss around."

Dave's stomach churned at the thought, his mind racing with images of what that might entail. He forced a smile, trying to play the part. "Yes, I'm sure it will be," he said, his voice strained.

The sergeant nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now, let's get down to the nitty-gritty. We need to make sure you both know your roles inside and out. No room for error."

Dave took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He knew he had to focus, to keep his emotions in check. He glanced over at Mark, who was watching him with a knowing smile. It was clear that the herculean cop was enjoying this, that he relished the idea of having Dave under his thumb.

The sergeant handed them their undercover identities, a set of fake IDs and a backstory that painted them as enthusiastic muscle worshippers looking to get in on the action. Mark's character was a bodybuilder with a penchant for extreme growth hormones, while Dave was his devoted trainer and spotter, eager to learn the secrets of his success.

Dave studied the photo on his ID, the sight of his own face staring back at him with a forced grin making him feel like he was looking at a stranger. This was it, he thought. This was the moment he'd signed up for, the moment he'd have to embrace the predator within Mark.

"Two weeks," the sergeant said, slapping a hand on the desk. "That's all the time you've got to prep for this. We need you two in tip-top shape, ready to blend in and win over Viktor."

The room emptied, leaving just Dave and Rachel. She looked at him with a mix of pity and excitement, her eyes sparkling with something he hadn't seen before. "So," she began, leaning against the desk. "You're going undercover with Mark."

He nodded, his heart racing at the thought of the coming days. "It's going to be... interesting," he managed to say, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears.

Rachel leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I know you've heard the rumors," she said, her eyes searching his. "But I have to tell you, they're all true."

Dave felt his throat tighten, his eyes flicking to the floor. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Rachel said, her voice low and breathy, "I've been with him. And it was...amazing."

The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks. Rachel and Mark? He'd never have guessed it. "What was it like?" he found himself asking, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes glazed over with memory, and she bit her lower lip. "It was like nothing I've ever experienced. The power, the dominance...it was like he owned me. And the sex...it was raw, primal. He was so big, so strong. He filled me in ways I didn't think possible."

Dave felt his cock twitch in his pants, his mind racing with images of Rachel spread out before Mark, her body trembling with pleasure and fear. "But...isn't he dangerous?"

Rachel's smile was wistful, her eyes dark with desire. "That's part of the thrill," she murmured. "You know you're alive when you're with him. And when he comes inside you..." She trailed off, her voice thick with lust. "It's like nothing you've ever felt."

Dave swallowed hard, trying to process this new information. He knew he had to focus on the mission, but the thought of Rachel with Mark was too tantalizing to ignore. "What does he expect from me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Whatever he wants," Rachel said, her eyes locked on his. "And trust me, you'll want to give it to him."

The words hung in the air between them, a promise and a warning all rolled into one. Dave knew that he was in for a wild ride, that the next two weeks would push him to his limits in ways he couldn't even begin to imagine. Dave looked to Rachel and quietly asked “When?”

"When?" Rachel repeated, her eyes flicking to the side for a moment before focusing on Dave again. She took a deep breath, her breasts rising and falling with the movement. "It was over the weekend."

Dave's eyes widened, his mind racing back to the locker room incident with Reynolds. It had been just two days ago, and Mark had been eight feet tall then. "But...how big was he?"

Rachel's cheeks flushed a dark pink, her eyes glazing over with remembered pleasure. "Probably eight foot eight, maybe even more," she murmured, her voice low and breathy. "He was enormous. And his smell, oh god, it was musky and sweaty but somehow I was really into it."

The revelation hit Dave like a truck. He figured Mark had to have been 8’4 before the locker room session. Mark had grown even larger after fucking Reynolds. And based off the morning’s interaction, he was now 9’4, meaning he grew after fucking Rachel. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, a mix of fear and excitement. "So he's still growing?" he whispered.

Rachel nodded, her eyes locking onto Dave's. "Massive," she repeated, her voice filled with a mix of awe and terror. "You can't even imagine what it's like."

Dave felt his own cock stir at the thought, his mind racing with images of Rachel beneath Mark, her body stretched to the breaking point by his pillar of a cock. "I...I need to prepare," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Rachel leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "You do," she said, her voice a seductive whisper. "You need to be ready to submit to him, to worship him. It's the only way to survive."

Her words sent a jolt through him, a thrill of fear and desire that was impossible to ignore. He knew she was right, that he had to embrace the role of the devoted worshipper if he wanted to get through this mission. He still didn’t want to submit, he would just be playing a part, he told himself.

But as he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was signing his own death warrant. Mark was growing more powerful by the day, and the thought of being so close to that power was both terrifying and exhilarating.

As he stepped into the locker room, he could still feel the echoes of Mark's roars from that fateful day, the memory of the monstrous cock that had claimed Reynold's body. He took a deep breath, trying to push the images aside. He had work to do, a role to play.

He pulled on his gym gear, the tight fabric clinging to his body. He knew he'd need to bulk up if he was going to play the part of Mark's devoted trainer, to match the intensity of the other muscle-worshipping fans.

As he stepped into the gym, the weights clanging and the smell of sweat and testosterone thick in the air, he saw Mark in the corner, already lifting weights that looked like they should be impossible for a human to lift.

The gargantuan cop looked over, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Ready to get to work?" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the room.

Dave took a deep breath, his eyes flicking over Mark's attire. The grey sweatpants stretched tight over his bulging thighs, hinting at the cock that lay beneath. The red hoodie and white tank top combo showcased the breadth of his chest, the fabric straining to barely contain his massive pectorals. The black baseball cap was pulled low over his eyes, the headphones framing his face like a crown of darkness. It was a look that screamed confidence and dominance, one that made every other man in the room look like a child playing dress-up.

"Yeah," Dave managed, his voice a croak. He approached Mark, trying to ignore the way his own body was responding to the sight of the behemoth before him. The smell of Mark's musky scent filled his nose, mixing with the faint scent of chlorine from the gym's pool. It was a scent that made his cock twitch in his shorts, a scent that was both terrifying and irresistible.

Mark grinned, his teeth sharp and predatory. "Good," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Let's get started." He handed Dave a towel and a bottle of water, his massive hand enveloping the smaller man's. The touch sent a jolt through Dave, his body betraying his fear with a shiver of arousal.

They began to train, Mark pushing himself to even greater heights of strength. The weights he lifted grew heavier, the sound of his grunts and roars filling the room. Dave's eyes were glued to the bulging veins in Mark's arms, the way his muscles flexed and shifted with every movement. It was mesmerizing, watching such power in action.

And as he watched, Dave couldn't help but feel his own attraction to Mark growing stronger. The thought of being the one to worship him, to be at his feet, filled him with a mix of dread and desire.

But he knew he had to keep his distance, to play his role without becoming a victim. He took a step back, focusing on his own workout, trying to ignore the way Mark's eyes followed him, the way his smile grew with every flex and grunt.

The gym rats around them began to take notice, their comments growing louder as Mark's workout grew more intense. The room felt smaller, the air thick with the scent of sweat and desire. Dave caught glances of admiration and fear, the men and women in the gym drawn to the spectacle before them.

As Mark peeled off his sweat-soaked red hoodie, tossing it aside, the sound of the fabric tearing filled the air. He grinned at his own reflection in the mirror, his teeth sharp and predatory. "Taking off the pump cover," he said with a wink, his massive biceps bulging as he flexed. His eyes met Dave's in the mirror, and for a moment, it was as if he could see through the facade, straight to the fear and lust that lay beneath.

Dave's cock twitched in his shorts, and he forced himself to look away, focusing on his own reps. But he couldn't ignore the way Mark's muscles rippled and flexed with every move, the grunts and groans that filled the room sounding eerily similar to the noises he'd heard in the locker room. It was a performance, a show of strength and dominance that had everyone's attention.

"Remember, it's not just about winning," Dave said through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice steady. "We're here to arrest Viktor, to bring him down."

Mark's grin widened, his teeth gleaming. "Oh, I know," he said, his voice thick with double meaning. "But if we're going to win his trust, I need to be the biggest and the best." He flexed again, his muscles seeming to grow before Dave's very eyes. "And trust me, Dave," he murmured, his eyes locked on the smaller man's. "When I say I need to be bigger, I mean it."

The challenge was clear, and Dave felt his own resolve waver. He knew that Mark's transformation was far from over, that each workout brought him closer to the brink of immense power. Part of him wanted Mark to get bigger and unleash his full potential. But he had to hold onto his humanity, had to remember that this was just a mission.

Forcing a laugh, he slapped Mark on the back, his hand barely making an impact on the towering mountain of muscle, feeling the rock hard muscle that rolled under the fabric of the white tank. "You're plenty big, man," he joked. "You're huge. I’d even say you’re too big."

Mark's eyes remained fixed on him, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "No such thing as too big," he said, his voice a low growl. He took a step closer, his massive frame casting a shadow over Dave. "Do you know what it feels like?"

Dave took a step back, his heart racing. "What?" he asked, his voice a squeak.

Mark leaned in, his breath hot against Dave's ear. "To be big," he whispered, his hand sliding down to cup his own giant bicep. "To be so strong, so powerful, that everyone around you can't help but stare?"

Dave felt his knees wobble, his cock thickening in his shorts. He forced a laugh, trying to play it off. "I can imagine," he said, his voice shaking.

Mark straightened up, his eyes gleaming. "Imagine," he said, his voice a purr. "Imagine what it's like to have your 22 inch cock so big that it fills them up, so thick that they can't even take a breath without feeling you inside them."

The words sent a shiver down Dave's spine, his mind racing with images of Mark's cock, massive and unyielding, claiming Rachel's body. "I...I don't know if I want to think about that," he murmured.

Mark's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with challenge. "But you do," he said, his voice a whisper. "You think about it every time you see me."

Dave looked away, unable to meet Mark's gaze. He knew it was true, knew that every time he saw Mark's bulging muscles, every time he heard his deep, rumbling laugh, he thought about that power. And it scared him, but it also made his heart race with excitement.

Mark flexed again, his muscles popping and shifting beneath his skin. He gestured to the posing room, the light glinting off the sweat that coated his body. "This lighting is shit," he said, his voice a low growl. "Let's go in there."

They headed into the smaller room, Mark having to crouch slightly to fit through the doorway. It was a stark reminder of just how massive he'd become, his shoulders brushing the frame as he moved. The room was smaller, the lighting softer, the air thick with the scent of sweat and anticipation.

Mark reached up and tugged off his baseball cap, his sweat-soaked hair falling into his eyes. He tossed it aside, his gaze never leaving Dave's. Then, with a quick, efficient movement, he ripped his white tank top over his head, the fabric tearing like paper under his grip.

The sight of his bare, bulging chest was almost too much to take in. Dave figured his chest had to be at least 92 inches and when Mark moved, Dave could make out the highway of veins keeping the man pumped. The red fabric of his underwear was soaked with a mix of sweat and what Dave figured was pre, turning the red thin cloth into a dark purple as it spread across the garment. Dave could see that the underwear didn't even fit, a gap between Mark’s adonis belt and the elastic waistband exposing the base of Mark’s shaft.

Mark took a step closer to the mirror, his legs spread wide. He reached down and grabbed the lower band of his underwear, pulling it up to better showcase his 56-inch quads. The fabric barely contained the mountainous muscles, threatening to rip at any moment. He groaned, the sound deep and guttural, his chest heaving with every breath. "Fuck," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I'm big."

Dave's eyes followed the lines of Mark's body, his gaze lingering on the monstrous cock that was barely contained by the stretched fabric. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before, a beast waiting to be unleashed. He felt his own cock stir in response, his body betraying his fear with a surge of desire.

Mark reached up, his arms flexing as he placed his hands behind his head. His elbows shot up, the muscles in his arms popping and flexing. His biceps were 32 inches around and pumped to the max as he held them parallel to his ears, giving Dave an eyeful of his pits. They were each a cavern of power and musk, the smell of him filling the small room, making it feel even smaller.

The air grew thick with anticipation, the tension between them palpable. Mark's eyes never left the mirror, his gaze challenging, daring Dave to look away. "What do you think?" he rumbled, his voice a low growl.

Dave swallowed hard, his mouth dry. "You're...huge," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mark's smile was predatory, his teeth sharp and pointed. "You like what you see?" he asked, his voice a purr.

Dave nodded, unable to find the words to lie. The sight of Mark, so bulky and dominant, had him in a state of near-paralysis. "Yeah," he murmured, his eyes flicking up to meet Mark's. "I do."

The confession seemed to inflate Mark even more, his muscles swelling as if with every word of praise, he grew larger. "Good," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Because you're going to see a lot more of me."

The words hung in the air, a promise that sent a shiver down Dave's spine. He knew that Mark wasn't just talking about the mission, that the immense egotistical cop had plans for him that went far beyond their undercover roles. And as he stared at the reflection in the mirror, at the beast before him, Dave couldn't help but wonder if he was ready to face what was coming.

He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing. "Mark, your pits…man you reek," he teased, trying to defuse the tension.

Mark's smile never wavered, but his eyes grew cold as he brought his massive arm to his pit and took a deep inhale. "Nah," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I actually like it. Smells like man. Pure testosterone."

The room grew tense, the air thick with the grip of Mark's power. Dave actually agreed with Mark, he was oddly turned on by the smell, but he knew he couldn't say that. It would open a can of worms. He kept quiet for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to think of a way to change the subject. "Well, if that's your jam," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "But maybe we should focus on the mission."

Mark's gaze never left the mirror, his eyes fixed on his own reflection. "Oh, don't worry," he murmured. "I'm always focused on what's important." He flexed again, his muscles popping and shifting. "And right now, what's important is getting bigger."

Dave swallowed hard, his eyes glued to Mark's biceps. "You mean the mission," he reminded him, his voice barely above a whisper. "What’s important is the mission strategy."

Mark's smile grew wider, his teeth sharp and predatory. "Yeah, I know. The mission," he repeated, sounding kind of annoyed. His eyes flicked to Dave's before returning to the mirror and gestured to his large body, rolling his muscles enticingly. "So, you gonna worship this now, or what?"

Dave, shakily replies “Excuse me?”

Mark’s head turns to face Dave, the thick tendons in his neck twisting. “We need to practice. Well, you need practice,” he retorts, his tone a little sharp.

Dave swallows, nervous but excited. “Really? I sort of thought…that part…I could just sort of improvise when we have to perform.”

Mark’s eyes narrow, and he turns his body so fast that his bulge sways. He steps closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over the smaller man. The bulge in his underwear is so massive it’s practically eye level with Dave, who tries to ignore the way his own cock responds to the proximity. “Improvise?” he repeats, his voice a low growl.

Dave nods, his heart racing as he tries to keep his cool. “Yeah, you know, play it by ear. Like we’re doing now.”

Mark’s smile is cold, his teeth sharp and pointed. “You’re going to worship me, Dave. You’re going to get on your knees and praise every inch of me, like the devoted worshipper you’re supposed to be. And you’re going to do it like you mean it, or else the mission is over before it even starts. Understood, boy?”

Dave nods, his throat dry. He can feel the heat from Mark’s body, the musky scent of his sweat filling his nostrils. It’s intoxicating, terrifying, and he can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement at the idea of being so close to that power.

But he shakes his head, trying to clear it. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary. We’re just here to train, right?”

Mark’s smile doesn’t falter. “Everything is necessary for this mission, Dave. And if you want to survive, you need to understand that. Now, get down on your knees.” His voice is a command, one that allows no argument.

Dave’s heart hammers in his chest, but he refuses to move. He can’t submit, not like this, not here. “I...I can’t. We’re in public. What if someone sees?”

Mark’s eyes narrow into slits. “You think I care what they think? You think I’m going to let a little thing like that stop me from becoming the biggest, the best? Let them watch. They can see what they’re missing; they can witness a true man.”

He takes another step closer, so that their bodies are almost touching, the top Dave’s head only coming up to the lower half of Mark’s chiseled abs . “Get on your knees, Dave. Show me how much you want this. Show me how much you want to be a part of this.”

Dave feels his resolve slipping, the fear and desire warring within him. He takes a deep breath, his eyes locked on Mark’s. “I’m not going to do that. Not here. Not like this.”

Mark’s expression shifts from playful to downright menacing. “You don’t have a choice, Dave,” he snarls. “You’re going to worship me, or you’re going to regret ever setting foot in this gym. I’m the biggest, the best, and you’re going to make sure everyone knows it. Now, get down!”

The command echoes in the small room, bouncing off the mirrored walls and reverberating in Dave’s skull. His knees feel like they’re made of jelly, but somehow, he manages to stay standing. “Mark, not today. I’ll do it when we need to perform.”

But Mark’s annoyance is clear, his broad form flexing and expanding before him. “Worship me now, Dave. You know you want to. Just give in to it,” he says, his voice a low rumble that seems to shake the very air. His cock pulses and grows, the fabric of his underwear straining to contain it. The dark purple stain spreads further, and Dave can’t help but feel a mix of fear and awe.

Dave just chuckles and shakes his head. Mark's patience has reached its limit, and he snaps. “Why not? It’s just a little worship. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me or anything.” Mark’s cock is dripping pre through the soaked fabric, a small puddle pooling on the floor in the small space between Mark and Dave.

“Mark, you know it’s never just ‘a little’ with you,” Dave scoffs, not sure where this sudden burst of confidence is coming from. He so badly wants to give in and submit, but his pride just can’t let him.

Mark growls, “Yeah, so what, maybe you’d suck my cock,” giving his bulge a squeeze, pushing even closer. Dave tries to take a step back but is met with the cool cinderblock of the wall behind him. “And if you did a nice job, I’d fuck you and make you feel really, really good. I’m not making this some big romantic thing. You’d just be helping me out, relieving some tension. Bros do it all the time. Plus you’d get some practice ahead of our mission. This is what friends are for—you know I’d do it for you if you were in my shoes.” Mark’s muscles are tense, swollen and ready for a fight.

Dave stays silent, knowing if he opened his mouth to speak, he’d beg for the man to fuck him.

"Fine," Mark spits, his voice cold. "If you're too scared to do it here, you’re gonna watch.” His hand snaps out, grabbing the back of Dave's neck, and he pulls the smaller man closer to him, forcing Dave’s face into the wet fabric of his underwear. The smell is overpowering, a mix of sweat and musk that makes Dave's head spin.

"Breathe it in," Mark orders, his grip tightening. "Feel how big I am." The pressure on his neck makes it difficult to resist, and Dave finds himself inhaling the scent of Mark's power, his cock responding despite his fear. The fabric is soaked with precum, and Dave can feel the heat of it against his skin.

Dave breathes in, the smell of Mark’s arousal and power overwhelming him. His eyes water, his cock aches, and his knees finally give out, dropping him to the floor. He's so close to Mark's massive cock, and he can feel the beast pulsing beneath the thin layer of fabric.

Mark releases him with a chuckle, watching as Dave's face contorts with a mix of disgust and arousal. "Look at you," he says, his voice a low purr. "Already worshiping."

On his knees, Dave tries to compose himself, his eyes never leaving the pulsing monstrosity before him. He can't believe he's here, in this position, but something about it feels...right. He reaches out, his hand trembling, and gently strokes the fabric, feeling the warmth and vastness beneath.

Mark groans, his eyes closing in pleasure. "That's it," he murmurs, his hand coming to rest on the back of Dave's head. "Worship me."

Dave's hand moves of its own accord, stroking and caressing the massive bulge, his own cock straining against his shorts. The fabric is slick with precum now, and he can feel the head of Mark's cock, massive and pulsing, pushing against the fabric, begging to be free and seeking some warm flesh.

Mark's eyes open, and he looks down at Dave, his smile predatory. "Good boy," he says, his voice a low growl. He releases Dave's neck, watching as the smaller man continues to worship him. Then, without warning, he says, "But I'm not in the mood for your mouth right now."

Dave's heart sinks, but Mark isn't done with him. He grabs Dave's hand and pulls him to his feet. "On the bench," he orders, pushing him onto the cold metal. "I'll show you how it's done."

Dave watches, breathless, as Mark strides towards the door, his muscles rippling with every step. He sticks his head out into the main gym, scanning the room with a hunger in his eyes that sends a thrill of fear through Dave. "You," he barks, pointing to an above average looking bodybuilder with a thick, muscular ass. The man jumps, his eyes wide with fear and excitement.

The bodybuilder approaches, his muscles trembling as he tries to appear calm. He's no match for Mark, though, not in size or power. Mark looks him up and down, his gaze lingering on the man's ass. "You're going to help me," he says, his voice a command.

The man nods, his eyes flicking to Dave before he quickly looks away. Mark leads him into the posing room, closing the door with a firm click that echoes in the small space. The tension is palpable, the air thick with anticipation.

Dave's heart races as he watches Mark stalk towards the newcomer, his cock still throbbing with need. He can't believe what's happening, but he's too afraid to move, too transfixed by the power before him.

"What's your name, boy?" Mark asks, his voice deep and commanding. The bodybuilder, clearly intimidated, stammers out a reply. "It's... it's Tom, sir."

"Well, Tom," Mark purrs, his eyes raking over the man's muscular form, "have you ever seen a man as big as me?"

Tom's eyes widen, and he nods, his voice barely above a whisper. "No, sir. Nothing...nothing like you."

"There isn’t anything like me," Mark says, his smile predatory. "And now, you're going to worship me." He takes a step closer, the fabric of his underwear tenting out even further as his cock swells at the thought of the influence he holds over the man. "You've been staring at me for weeks, haven't you? Admiring from afar?"

Tom nods, his voice barely audible. "Yes, sir."

Mark crouches down in front of him, his massive thighs spread wide, the fabric of his underwear straining to contain his thick cock. "Good boy," he says, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Now, take off your clothes. I want you to worship me."

Tom looks at Dave, his expression a mix of fear and longing, before removing his clothes and dropping to his knees. Mark reaches down and grabs the back of his head, shoving it into the crook of his arm. "Breathe it in," he commands, his voice thick with arousal. "Tell me how much you want to worship this muscle."

Dave watches, his own cock painfully hard as he takes in the scene before him. Mark’s armpit is a cave of muscle and hair, the essence of his sweat and pheromones overwhelming, with thick, warm muscle pulsating. He can see the desire in Tom’s eyes, the way his body responds to the dominance. It’s like watching a lion claim his territory, and Dave can’t look away.

Tom dives into the pit like a man starved, rubbing his nose in it to get a deeper hit of the beast’s scent. He gasps, his breath coming in ragged pants as he inhales deeply. "God, you're so...so big," he murmurs, his voice muffled by Mark's thick, powerful arm.

Mark chuckles, his eyes never leaving Dave's as he flexes his bicep, the veins bulging and pulsing. "You see this?" he says, his voice a growl. "This is what you could have."

Dave watches, his eyes wide, as Tom's tongue darts out, licking along the length of Mark's bulging bicep. The sound of wet skin on skin fills the small room, and Dave can't help but feel a stab of jealousy at the sight of someone else worshipping the behemoth of a body he so desperately craves.

"Huge," Tom moans, his voice muffled by the muscle. "So huge, so powerful. You’re so…big" His eyes are closed, his face a mask of ecstasy as he worships Mark's body.

Dave's hand moves to his own cock, stroking it through his shorts as he watches, his mind racing with thoughts of what it would feel like to have that power, to be the one being worshipped. Better yet, to be the one doing the worshipping and feeling surrounded by hot, wet, rough muscle, knowing you were completely at the mercy of the beast. 

Mark's gaze flicks to Dave's hand, his smile growing wider. "You like watching, don't you?" he asks, his voice a taunt. "But you're not here to watch, Dave. You're here to learn."

Dave nods, his breath coming in shallow pants. He knows what Mark wants, what he expects. But he can't bring himself to do it, not with Tom here, not with the fear that he'll lose control and give himself completely to Mark. 

Tom's worship becomes more frantic, his tongue moving faster as he licks and kisses Mark's bicep. The precinct's fearsome giant groans, his cock swelling even further, the fabric of his underwear stretching to the brink of tearing.

"That's right," Mark murmurs, his eyes locked on Dave's. "Worship me, and maybe I'll let you have a taste of this power." His hand moves to his cock, stroking it through the fabric. "But for now, watch and learn."

Dave's hand moves faster, his own arousal reaching new heights as he watches the scene unfold. He can feel the heat from Mark's body, the power radiating off him, and it's all he can do to keep from begging to take Tom's place.

Mark stands back to his full height, his chest heaving with excitement. He reaches down and grabs the back of Tom's head, lifting him up so that their faces are level. "You want to feel this?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

Tom nods frantically, his eyes wide with lust. "Yes, sir," he gasps. "Please, I want to feel it all."

Mark smirks, his hand moving to his cock. "Good boy," he says, his thumb brushing the fabric. "But first, you have to earn it." With a sudden, violent movement, he shoves Tom's head onto his pecs, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing in the room. Tom's mouth opens in a silent ecstatic scream, his nose buried in the thick, dark hair that covers Mark's chest.

The bodybuilder's face is a mask of pain and pleasure as Mark rubs the man’s head against the muscle, the friction causing Tom to gag slightly. Mark's hand is like a vise, holding him in place as he continues to flex, the muscles in his chest rippling and pulsing with each movement.

Tom’s eyes are watering, but his moans grow louder, his face a picture of absolute submission. "So...so powerful," he murmurs, his voice muffled by the thick layer of muscle.

Dave's hand moves faster on his own cock, the scene before him too intense to ignore. He wants to be the one feeling that power, the one being dominated by Mark’s monstrous size.

Mark releases Tom, and the smaller man collapses to the floor, panting heavily. Mark turns around, his back to them, and flexes his massive back muscles, each coil a ridge of power and dominance. The dim light of the gym casts shadows across his broad expanse, making him look even more like a creature from a nightmare.

Tom's hand reaches out, trembling, and touches one of the muscles. It's like touching a living statue, the power beneath the skin undeniable. Mark's eyes meet Dave's in the mirror, a challenge in them, and Dave feels his own body respond, his cock aching for release.

But Mark isn’t done yet. He turns around swiftly, his bulge smacking Tom right in the face with a wet sound. "Heh," Mark taunts with a wicked grin. "Did you want a taste of this?"

Tom nods frantically, his eyes glazed over with lust. "Yes, sir," he gasps, his hand reaching out to grasp at the fabric.

But Mark steps back, his smile cold. "Not yet," he says, his eyes flicking to Dave. "You still have to show me you're worthy."

Tom looks up at him, his eyes glazed with lust and desperation. "I'll do anything," he whispers, his hand reaching for Mark's soaked bulge again.

Mark grabs his wrist, stopping him. "Not for you," he says, his gaze never leaving Dave's. "For him." He jerks his head in Dave's direction. "He's the one you need to convince."

Dave feels a jolt of fear and excitement run through him. He's not sure he can handle this, but something about the power dynamics in the room, the way Mark is so obviously in charge, is driving him wild. His hand is still on his own cock, stroking it through his shorts as he watches, unable to tear his eyes away.

Tom turns to him, his expression one of desperation. "I'll do it, Dave," he says, his voice trembling. "I'll worship him, I'll be his devoted servant. Just tell me it's okay."

Dave's mouth goes dry, his heart racing. He nods, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Do it," he says, his eyes locked on Mark's bulge. "Worship him."

Tom's eyes light up, and he practically dives at Mark's crotch, his nose pressing into the wet fabric as he inhales deeply. "You're so big," he says, his voice muffled as Mark grinds his bulge into Tom’s face. "So powerful. No other man is like you."

Mark laughs, a deep, rich sound that sends a shiver down Dave's spine. He flexes again, and Tom pulls back for air, tendrils of cum and pre sticking to his face from the wet fabric, before diving back in, smearing his face with the mix of sweat and pre from Mark’s underwear. "Look at him," Mark says to Dave, his voice a low growl. "He can't get enough of me."

Dave nods, his hand moving faster on his cock as he watches. The sight of Tom, so eager and submissive, is making him feel things he never thought he would. "I can see that," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mark takes a step closer to Dave, his hand still wrapped around Tom's wrist, keeping him pinned to the floor. "Are you sure you don't want to join in?" he asks, his voice a taunt. "It's not too late for you to show me how much you want this."

Dave swallows hard, his mind racing. He's never felt so conflicted, so torn between fear and desire. "I'm...I'm not sure," he admits.

Mark's smile fades, and his eyes flash with something that might be anger. "You will be," he says, his voice a warning. "Because this isn't a game, Dave. This is what you're going to have to deal with from now on. This is who I am."

Dave nods, his eyes still glued to Mark's leaking bulge, the puddle on the floor having expanded into a small lake. He knows it's true. He can feel the power in the air, the raw, animalistic energy that Mark exudes. He's no longer just a man; he's something more, something...other.

Tom looks up at Mark, his eyes pleading. "Please, sir," he says, his voice a whine. "Let me have it."

Mark's smile returns, and he nods. "Alright," he says, his hand moving to his cock. "But remember, this isn't just for you. This is for the mission."

Tom nods frantically, his mouth watering. "I know, sir. I'll do anything."

Mark pulls his underwear down with a flourish, and his cock springs free, hardening to its proud 26 inches.  It's massive, thick and veiny, with a glistening head that seems to pulse with power. Dave's jaw drops as he stares at it, his own cock throbbing with need. He thinks back to yhe display he saw between Mark and Reynolds in the locker room and realizes Mark's cock had grown substantially since then.

The sound of Tom's wet, eager mouth wrapping around the monstrous member fills the room, and Dave's hand moves faster on his own cock. He's so close, so close to the edge, and the sight of Mark being worshipped is pushing him over.

Mark is driving into Tom’s throat like there is no tomorrow, Tom’s nose kissing his waist with each brutal thrust. Each groan is deep, animalistic, a sound that fills the small posing room with a palpable sense of power and dominance. His hips piston back and forth, all 26 inches of his massive cock disappearing into Tom’s eager mouth again and again. The sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh is punctuated by Tom’s muffled gagging, his eyes watering as he struggles to keep up with Mark’s relentless pace.

Mark’s snarls, eyes hooded in pleasure but with a sharp glint as he stares into Dave’s eyes. “Fuuccck,” he moans “This could be you, you know. Being a good cocksleeve.” Dave swallows, but finds he’s unable to look away. Mark’s head knocks back as a shudder escapes him.

Mark pulls out roughly with a wet squelch. He peers past his mountainous pecs to stare at Tom, a hungry look in Mark’s eye as he strokes his cock, a belch of pre flying out and landing on Tom’s face. “More,” Mark groaned. “I need more.”

Tom whined, “Fuck me, please. Sir, I need you to breed me.” Mark laughs and stares at Tom, his eyes flicking to Dave. Dave watches in anticipation, realizing how badly he needs to see the beast come undone.

Stalking around Tom like a predator circles its prey, his cock still rock hard,  Mark appraises the man, inspecting him. “Your physique isn’t bad, you’ve got some muscle on you. What are those, twenty inch arms? Come on, give a flex.”

Tom flexes his bicep, quivering as he waited for the beast to strike. “Yeah, they’re about 20 inches,” his voice trembling in excitement.

Dave stiffened, thinking about his own 18 inch biceps. He was in shape, you had to be to be a cop in this city. His 5’11 frame wasn’t bursting with muscle, but he had a fair amount of definition and mass on his build, more so now that he’s been trying to keep up with Mark.

Mark stared at Tom’s arm. “Not bad, boy, not bad. You’re getting big.” He stands behind Tom, “But nowhere as big as me,” he rumbles in Tom’s ear, flexing his 34 inch arms next to Tom’s, absolutely dwarfing the man. The three stare at the reflection in the mirror, the stark size difference between Tom and Mark leaving a lasting imprint in Dave’s mind.

Staring at Dave, Mark smirks. “These are 34 inches of pure strength. This is what it means to be a real man.” Tom lets out a low moan as he watches the shredded muscle move. Mark laughs and brings his nose again to his own pit and takes two deep inhales, his cock hardening even more. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of my scent,” he moaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, as he noses his hairy armpit to take another whiff. “It’s like pure masculinity distilled. The bigger I grow, the stronger it is. There’s nothing like it. It calls to me.” Mark grunts and his long, thick tongue emerges from his mouth to lick the sweat from his own pits. “And I want more.”

His eyes cut to Dave, a raw primal look in his eyes. He turns back to Tom and kneads the man’s ass, humming. “Yeah, you’ll do. You’ll do just fine. You ready?”

Tom nodded, his eyes glazed over with pure need. He was so eager to please, so eager to submit. It was a sight that made Dave’s heart race. Mark’s hand slid down Tom’s back, feeling the wetness of his cock, and he smirks. “So obedient. You know what to do, don’t you?”

Tom nodded, his eyes never leaving Mark’s. He stood up and turned around, presenting his ass. Dave watched, his hand still working his own cock, as Mark grabbed a bottle of lube from his gym bag and coated his enormous member with it. The sound of the squelch filled the room, and Dave could almost feel the cold liquid on his own skin.

Tom bent over, his ass cheeks parted slightly, and Mark stepped closer, his cock now at eye level with Dave, its mushroom tip purple and angry. “Look at it, Dave. This is what you’re going to get if you submit to me. This power, this dominance. Tell me, do you want it?”

Dave nodded, his voice shaking. “Yes, I do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mark smirks and presses the head of his cock against Tom’s hole. Tom’s body jolts at the contact, his moan echoing off the walls. “Good boy. Remember what you’re here for.”

With that, Mark thrusts forward, burying his cock to the hilt into Tom with a wet, meaty sound that makes Dave’s own cock twitch. Tom’s head snaps back, his mouth open in a silent scream, but the only sound that escapes him is a low, guttural moan. The room is filled with the sound of flesh on flesh, Mark’s grunts, and Tom’s muffled whimpers.

Dave’s hand moves faster, his own desperation building as he watches Mark’s massive cock disappear into Tom’s body over and over again. He’s never seen anything so intense, so raw. The power dynamics in the room are intoxicating, and he knows he’s lost in it, lost in the sheer dominance that Mark exudes.

As Mark’s rhythm picks up, so does Tom’s moaning, his body moving in time with Mark’s brutal thrusts. The sight of Mark’s thick, hulking thighs flexing with every pump, the sound of skin slapping together, it’s all too much for Dave. He feels his orgasm approaching, his cock pulsing in his hand.

Tom’s moans grow louder, his voice a mix of pleasure and pain. “God, you’re so big, Mark,” he gasps. “So much bigger than anyone I’ve ever had. It’s like...like you’re going to split me in half!”

Mark’s eyes never leave Dave’s as he responds, his voice a deep, primal grunt. “That’s right, boy. You’re feeling the power of a real man now. This is what it’s like to be with a true alpha. Tell me, do you like it?”

Dave nods, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He’s never seen anything so raw, so...beautiful. The way Mark’s cock stretches Tom’s body, the way Tom’s muscles quiver with each impact, it’s like watching a master sculptor at work, shaping the man before him into something new, something that belongs to him.

“Say it,” Mark demands, his hips moving faster, his grip on Tom’s waist tightening. “Say you love it, say you want more!”

Tom’s eyes roll back in his head, and he lets out a long, keening wail. “I love it, sir! More, please, I need more!”

Mark chuckles, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. “Good boy,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. “But remember, this isn’t just for you. This is for the mission. You’re going to help us win, aren’t you?”

Tom nods vigorously, his voice muffled by the thick meat that’s splitting his cheeks apart. “Yes, sir. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Mark’s grip tightens on Tom’s hips, his thrusts becoming more primal, more forceful. His massive balls slap against Tom’s body with every pump, the sound echoing through the room like a drumbeat of dominance. Dave can see the veins bulging in Mark’s neck and arms, his muscles straining with the effort of holding back.

“Look at him,” Mark says to Dave, his voice a gruff whisper. “Look how much he wants it. How much he needs it. This is what you’re fighting for, Dave. This power. This...connection. Tell me, don’t you want to be part of this?”

Dave’s hand is a blur on his cock now, the precum coating his fist as he jerks himself off. He can’t help but stare at Mark’s cock, disappearing into Tom’s body over and over again, stretching him wide and marking him as his own. The scent of sex and musk fills the air, making it thick and heady.

Mark’s eyes never leave Dave’s as he fucks Tom harder, his hips snapping forward with each thrust. His balls swing heavily, slapping against Tom’s ass with a wet sound that seems to echo in the room. “This is what it means to be an alpha, Dave. To have men like him begging for your cum, your power, your...everything. Can you feel it?”

Dave nods, his breath coming in gasps. He can feel it, the aggression that Mark holds, the raw, primal strength that’s so intoxicating. It’s like watching a beast in heat, claiming its territory.

“Look at him, Dave,” Mark says, his voice a growl. “Look at what you could have if you just submit to me. If you just give in and become part of this...my...magnificence!”

Dave's eyes are glued to Mark's cock as it bulges and recedes from Tom's stretched hole, the wet sounds of sex filling the air. Tom's moans are a symphony of pain and pleasure, his body trembling with each punishing thrust. Mark’s sweat glistens on his bulging muscles, a sheen that seems to pulse with the raw testosterone coursing through his veins. Dave sees a pulsing object bulging from the front of Tom, and with a fascinated jolt of horror, he realizes it’s the head of Mark’s cock. Mark follows Dave’s eye line and hones in on the protrusion and smirks, humming and cupping it with his dinner plate sized palm. He starts to massage it, feeling himself up through Tom. 

Tom's eyes meet Dave’s, filled with a mix of ecstasy and desperation. "It's so big," he gasps out. "So...so much man...inside me." His words only serve to stoke Dave's own desire, his hand moving even faster on his cock.

With a grunt, Mark flexes his arm, the bicep swelling before Dave's eyes. His pecs bounce with each thrust, the bulk of his body on full display. The sound of his cum sloshing around in his heavy nuts is almost audible, a reminder of the sheer force that he wields, the damage that he could do to Dave.

Dave watches, his own orgasm building, his heart racing. He's never felt so alive, so alive with desire and fear all wrapped up in one intense package. The room feels like it's spinning around him, the pressure in his cock reaching a breaking point.

Mark's eyes bore into his, a challenge and a promise all at once. "You want this, don't you?" he asks, his voice a deep rumble. "You want to feel what it's like to be filled with my cock?"

Dave can't speak, can't form the words. He can only nod, his eyes never leaving Mark's cock as it claims Tom’s body. Mark's smile widens, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "Good," he says. "Because once you have a taste, you're never going to want to go back."

With that, Mark's thrusts grow even more intense, his cock seeming to swell even larger as he watches himself in the mirror. Tom's body jerks with each impact, his moans turning into screams of pleasure. The smell of sex is overwhelming, a musky scent that fills the room and makes Dave's head swim.

Mark's breathing is ragged, his muscles straining with the effort of holding back his climax. He's so close, so close to releasing his seed into Tom, to claiming him fully as his own. Dave feels it, feels the power building inside of Mark, ready to be unleashed.

With a final, guttural roar, Mark's cock starts to pulse, and then it happens. A torrent of cum explodes from him, spraying the mirrors, the floor, and even the walls. The room is drenched in a solid layer of it, the smell so strong that it's almost overwhelming. Tom's body jerks as he feels the hot flood fill him, his own orgasm triggered by the sheer intensity of the moment.

The force of Mark's cum is so powerful that it launches Tom off his cock, sending him flying into the wall with a thud. The smaller man slumps to the floor, panting and spent, his body covered in the sticky mess. Dave watches, his own hand still moving on his cock, his orgasm now imminent.

Mark's roar turns into a series of snarls as he continues to cum, his body jerking and spasming with each powerful shot. His eyes are squeezed shut, his teeth bared in a feral expression that makes Dave's blood run cold. And then, with a final, explosive burst, he opens his eyes and aims his cock at Dave, spraying him with hot, sticky jets of cum.

Dave gasps as the warm fluid hits him, his hand flying to his face to wipe it away unsuccessfully, some winding up in his mouth. The smell is so potent, so intense, it's all he can do to keep from choking on it. He can feel it on his skin, sticky and thick, and the sensation sends him over the edge. His own orgasm rips through him, his cock spurting cum onto the floor as he watches Mark's feral climax continue.

Mark continues to roar, his hand stroking more cum out of his cock, his nose buried in his pit and his bicep flexed, the fountain of cum continuing to erupt thick white ropes all over the black posing room. “Look at me, fucking look at me” he exhales triumphantly, watching himself in the mirrors.

As Mark's orgasm finally subsides, his breathing slows, his body still quivering with the aftershocks. He looks over at Dave, his eyes gleaming with something that might be satisfaction, or maybe something darker. He lets out a gutttaral roar, something Dave can’t quite decipher but it sounded a lot like. “You’re mine”. A shiver runs up Dave’s spine as Mark leers at him. "Now you see," he says, his voice a low purr. "Now you know what it's like to be in the presence of a god."

The room is a mess, the mirrors foggy with heat and cum, the floor a slick, wet mess. The previously black walls look white, and a steady drip spills from the ceiling to the floor.  The air is thick with the smell of sex and power, and Dave knows that nothing will ever be the same. This isn't just about the mission anymore; it's about survival, about submitting to the alpha in their midst. 

Tom is still on the floor, his body trembling as he tries to process what just happened. The look in his eyes is one of utter adoration and fear, and Dave knows that he's lost to Mark now, that he'll do anything to serve his new master.

Dave swallows hard, his own orgasm leaving him feeling both empty and full, his mind racing. What does this mean for him? For the precinct? For the mission? He's not sure, but one thing is clear: he's in over his head, and there's no turning back now.

Mark snatches his discarded red hoodie off the floor, the fabric heavy with his cum. He wipes his glistening body clean, the material sticking to his still-hard cock. The act is almost casual, as if this is a normal part of his routine. He balls it up and tosses it at Dave, the wet thud as it hits him, a robust reminder of the sexual power Mark holds.

The room is still, the only sound the faint echo of Mark's footsteps as he steps over Tom's prone form, the man's moans of pleasure and pain now reduced to a dull murmur. "So, so big," Tom whispers to himself, lost in a daze. Mark's eyes gleam with triumph as he strides out of the posing room, his massive cock swinging with every step, a cocky sneer on his face. His gigantic shoulder catches on the doorframe, the metal bending and the stone cracking, leaving behind a deltoid shaped hole in the wall.

Dave is left alone with Tom, the sticky mess on the floor, and the pungent scent of Mark's cum hanging in the air. He stares at the cum-soaked hoodie in his hand, feeling a mix of revulsion and fascination. He's seen Mark's dominance in action before, but this...this was something else entirely.

Tom finally looks up, his eyes glazed with a mix of fear and arousal. "I...I've never felt anything like that," he says, his voice trembling. "It's like he owns me now. Like I can't get enough of him. Fuck, I need more."

Dave nods, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and desire. He knows he should be disgusted, that he should be horrified by what he's just witnessed. But instead, he's feeling something else entirely. A need to be closer to Mark, to be part of what he has just seen.

As he gathers his things, avoiding the cum-soaked floor the best he can, he can't help but glance back at Tom, who is still sprawled on the floor, a pool of cum around him. The man's eyes are closed, a look of pure bliss on his face. He's lost in his own thoughts, his body still trembling slightly.

Dave grabs a towel and quickly wipes himself down, his movements jerky and unsure. The sticky fluid clings to his skin, a constant reminder of the power that Mark holds over all of them. He feels like he's in a daze as he dresses and heads for the door, the hoodie clutched tightly in his hand.

The drive home is a blur, the smell of Mark's cum lingering in his nostrils, the feel of it drying on his skin. He can't shake the images of Mark's massive cock, the way Tom's body had quivered and shuddered with each thrust. He tries to focus on the mission, on what they need to do to infiltrate the muscle worship competition, but all he can think about is the power that Mark wields as a weapon.

When he finally pulls into his driveway, the house is dark and quiet. He slips inside, the hoodie still clutched in his hand. His heart is racing, his mind racing even faster. He can't help but think about the upcoming mission, about what it will mean to be so close to Mark, to be so intimately involved in his world.

He goes to throw the huge hoodie into the wash, the smell of Mark’s cum wafting up from the fabric. It's like a siren's call, tempting him with the promise of power and submission. He stops, and instead puts in the drawer with Mark’s now tiny oversized tank and tattered underwear. He throws out his cum soaked shoes, peeling off the socks with a wet “thwip.” He's torn between his duty and his desires, between his fear and his growing attraction to the monster that Mark has become. He drifts off to sleep, anxious yet twistedly excited for their upcoming undercover operation.

[Jakob78]

Link to part 1 anyone? Thanks