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Chance Encounter, A
|Hey guys-- loooong time lurker here, was sick in bed last weekend and pumped this out. it's a little vanilla, a little old-fashioned/formulaic, but I've enjoyed this site so much that I felt the need to contribute. Do not have time to continue it, but if anyone wants to, by all means go crazy with it, as long as you don't add any muscle shrinking sequences. seriously. thanks to all the great writers on here, especially fantcman, claygrant, lemapp, absman, brent, and so many others. you guys are great. enjoy!|
|I left the office at around 630 that night--happy to be done with a very intense week. Moving to New York had been exhausting and jumping right into a demanding and difficult job had pushed my need for release to an extreme. I had had several awful dates, and was even having trouble finding guys to scope just walking down the street during my commute and lunch hour. The romantic notion of Manhattan as a gay man's paradise was rapidly fading in my mind, but I still hadn't had much time to explore. I hopped on the 4 at grand central, and actually got a seat. I closed my eyes and exhaled, and thought of Chris, my sweet bodybuilder buddy who I had had some great backseat fun with during a layover in Detroit a couple of weeks before, and my cock started to spread across my thigh towards my hip bone. I squeezed it instinctively and heard someone cough, my eyes popping back open to see the signs for union square whirring by outside. I smirked at my horny antics and stood up to exit and take the L back to the house in Brooklyn.
Pushing my way through the crowd to the stair I saw an unbelievable figure headed in the same direction---early twenties, buzzed blond hair, cropped beard, wide striated neck bulging below his ears, lantern jaw, full lips, huge long-lashed grey eyes under a heavy brow, wearing black sweats that hid an amazing hulking frame. He was probably 5'10, close to 300 pounds, and fairly ripped from the look of his face and neck. His sleeves were pushed up on enormous forearms with fat hams of thick, veined muscle hanging on their bottoms, his erect-looking nipples visible through the sweats, a slight roidgut protruding out in the front, a huge bubble butt straining the seams in the back. His shoulders were nearly spherical, the thickness and width of his back remarkable to say the least.
I saw this in a long glimpse of 3 seconds as he walked across my field of vision, maybe 15 feet in front of me-- glancing at me for a split second, with almost imperceptible eye contact before he faced back front with an infinitesimal smirk curling the side of his mouth. Immediately I hurried after him, hoping to get close enough to bump my nose into his ass behind him on the stairs. The crowd was thick for being so late in the rush hour, and I obviously shoved my way past a Chinese woman and a group of Puerto Rican girls to get behind him in the flow. He was several people ahead of me in the line, but showed no signs of being in a hurry, only confident, deliberate, achingly powerful movements, absently scratching his abs and yawning as he walked up the stairs. The crest of his ass was basically at eye level for two flights, and he turned towards the 14th street exit. I decided immediately that I didn't need to get straight home, and decided to follow this boy to see where his kind inhabited the city. I pushed through the turnstile as he disappeared around the corner.
When I got out to the street level, I saw him walking west, towards 5th avenue, so I rushed until I was about 30 feet back. His walk was a muscular strut, not cocky, just completely unaware of any other way to walk. I trailed after him down 14th, passing through the avenues, and he didn't look back once. A flicker of self-doubt passed through my mind--was I being a creep? Was I wasting my time going after the unattainable? I ran my hand over my stomach, feeling the new beginnings of creases and ridges from my fledgling efforts at the gym, and even though he probably had a solid 70 pounds of muscle on me, a guy 4 inches taller, I was so horned up I didn't even care. I reminded myself of what bottoms most muscleboys are, and figured if nothing else just watching his huge globes of gorgeous manbutt wrestling beneath those sweats would provide me with a great masturbation fantasy.
But something in me was more than just lustful-- I was transfixed, hypnotized by his movements. Suddenly I realized that I had come within 10 feet of him, and once we were at 8th, I came up next to him at the crosswalk. I tried to look cool, flexing every muscle in an effort to look big relaxed, furrowing my brow and looking away with my mouth slightly open. I'm a very good-looking guy--6'2, 190, young body, big frame, with a little muscle starting to fill in, but I knew anybody would tell me this guy was way out of my league. Presently I realized that the light had changed but that he had remained motionless, only 3 or 4 feet to my right. I could smell his clean skin with a faint touch of musky sweat and a slight tang of ass. He looked over at me, looked me casually up and down, and smiled, "you're a little shy, aren't you?"
My mouth was dry-- I said, "Well, not usually."
He laughed, quiet, friendly, and started to cross the street. He didn't look back, but motioned impatiently with his arm to follow. I lurched forward and tripped over the curb, stumbling into the street to chase after him.
"Alright," he said, "I'm gonna walk down to 7th and then turn right-- just follow behind me like you were before, and when you turn the corner after me, close your eyes."
"Close my eyes?"
He laughed. "Yeah, you've got to, but don't worry, you'll be glad you did."
Short white carnivorous teeth gleamed inside his wide dimpled grin.
"C'mon, we gotta go--just do what I said."
And with that, he took off down the avenue, a little faster than before, and I, stunned, intrigued, and unbelievably horned followed at a safe distance behind. I walked those 7 blocks downtown with my erection jutting out like a divining rod, twitching, leaking and throbbing, the memory of his scent still in my nose, and occasionally, ever so subtly wafting into my nostrils. As we got to the end of the block before 7th Street, he turned around and grinned and pointed to the right, and I grinned back and nodded. He made a swift turn out of my sight, and I slowed for a second as I approached the corner. I closed my eyes and made a swift turn, trying to imitate his heavy step and lat-floated arms, the swinging walk, and had only taken a short couple of steps before I found myself stepping into nothing, falling, and hitting water as my eyes popped open. I immediately slammed them shut, anticipating sewer water, but gently hit the bottom about 4 feet below the surface, and hurriedly stood up, thrusting my head and shoulders out of the water. A loud clang reverberated above, and I wiped the water from my eyes to see a large metal hatch about 10 feet above my head.
Looking around hurriedly, I saw that I was in a long, dim room with a pool in the middle, the ceiling arched into the walls, tile covering all of it-- the pool was lit from beneath, casting a mesmerizing glow on the tiles, and extended some 30 or 40 feet in front of me, maybe 16 feet wide, I turned behind me to see stairs out of it, and a ledge of several feet all around, but no visible door, and no sign of the huge, beautiful man I had been following. I splashed over to the stairs and climbed out, utterly confused, but still mightily erect. I tore off my belt and kicked off my shoes, and started to undress.
I stripped down to my briefs, readjusted my aching cock to the left, and jumped back in to the pool. I did a little surface dive, and swam underwater towards the other end, just to see if I could make it. I hadn't swum in months, and the water was fantastic, not a hint of chlorine or dirt, and so perfectly warm as to be almost imperceptible, except for a touch of coolness. As I kicked towards the end, I saw a hole, probably 4 feet in diameter, extending through the wall. I surfaced, looked back towards my clothes at the other end of the room, and gulped some air before swimming straight into it. The tunnel was only 20 feet or so, and lit with a single seam of backlit crystal in its trough, and lined with tawny granite. I marveled to myself at the insane level of expense and detail involved with the construction of the place as I came out the other end into a deep round pool with no lights, only a gentle golden glow at the surface, and a blue mosaiced floor 10 or 15 feet below it. Again I saw some stairs across the pool, and swam to them, my lungs beginning to ache. As I glided into them I pushed my head above to breathe and found myself in a beautiful apartment. Plants everywhere, overstuffed black leather furniture, modern paintings on the wall, Bill Evans playing quietly over a hidden PA.
And there he was, sitting expectantly in his black sweats on the edge of a sofa, looking intently and lustily at me, that same animal grin slowly spreading out from his curled, pouting lips, scratching at his beard.
"That was fast," he said.
"I was curious."
The grin widened, and he stood from the couch, stared straight into my eyes, and quickly pulled his shirt over his head. I froze rooted to the floor, as my eyes wandered over his bulging, cut belly, his saw-toothed, meaty intercostals, the deep cleft of his torso insertion, his pants riding low on his hips. His lats flared roundly as he pulled the neck over his head, and two wide, round pectorals stretched, with fat, silky, eraser sized nipples. His skin was at once tanned and ruddy, and lined sexily with swirls of coarse dark golden hair in the creases of his abs and all over his chest, with fierce bushes lurking in his veiny pits.
He tossed the shirt to the side, arms bouncing down, fat and heavy, probably 24 inches around, biceps heavy like an overgrown gymnast, forearms unusually large, and the shoulders bulging out impossibly to the sides. The only way to describe him would be fat with muscle. He was lean and vascular, but gave the impression of being swollen and bulging at every curve and contour. He looked down, and slipped his thumbs into his sweatpants, slowly pushing them down and wiggling his huge ass a little to get them over it. His thighs were reminiscent of DeMayo or Prince, also unusually huge even for someone of his size, and his calves jutted out to the same size as his upper arms, twisted fat diamonds like pairs of footballs on steel cables stretching down to broad, big toed, high arched feet. He looked up at me expectantly, grin reappearing, and flicked a single eyebrow as he nonchalantly tossed his clothes to the side and began to walk toward me, a fat, mushroom-headed cock swinging ponderously back and forth in front of him over kiwi-sized balls.
I was in shock. Never in my life had I seen anything so beautiful, so perfect. Even my fantasies seemed like mere attempts to imagine a man like this. And yet, there was no condescension in his eyes, only warmth, lust, and mischief.
He stopped inches away from me and placed his hands on my hips, lazily gazing into my eyes: "do you know why you're here?"
"To be with you?" I said.
He smiled again, and opened his mouth in a silent laugh, and ran a smooth callused palm and thick fingers through my hair and nodded, "yes, but there's more."
"More?!" I said incredulously.
He nodded again and pulled me to him, still dripping wet, until our noses were touching and we were panting into each other's open mouths. He kissed me very lightly, just with lips, and slid a hand down the seam of my back to my ass, and in one fluid motion slid his middle finger right into the puckering hole, by now velvety and trembling with anticipation. Our cocks bobbed and leaked, as we mindlessly rubbed them together. He pulled out the finger and raised it underneath our noses, savoring the musky sweet stench, lightly tracing it with the tip of his tongue as he pulled it to the side. He moaned and pulled me in tight against him, and crashed our mouths together, teeth clicking against teeth as we collided. My hands were ravenously exploring the bulges and crevasses of his back and ass as he picked me up off of the ground and threw me down onto the couch. I could feel myself trembling, pinned beneath him, his hard ridged belly crushing me, his slick cock already sliding its head down my taint to pause restlessly at my quivering hole.
He broke our kiss, holding himself up on fists and knees, still jamming his abdomen into mine. His face was flushed, but his eyes were clear. He gazed at me passionately and said, "Do you want to be like me?"
"There isn't anything I want more in this world," I said, helplessly humping and gyrating my hips against his huge, heavy mass.
He looked down and grinned; "I had a feeling," he chuckled. He lumbered off the couch and stood facing me, scratching his balls. Again, I was hypnotized by his shape. Even with his protruding corrugated gut, the width of his flaring lats and mighty shoulders, as well as the bulging sweep of his quads made a hypermasculine hourglass shape. Every insertion was almost pornographic in the bulbous, muscular collisions of parts, the skin so tight that it looked like it wrapped individual muscle groups entirely, sinking into the flesh below. When he shifted his weight from one leg to another, striations shot around like electrical currents over his flesh. It was absolutely mesmerizing. I heard him laughing, and I snapped out of my reverie to see that he was now stroking his cock, spitting into one of his meaty paws and fondling the engorged, purple head. His grin spread between two deep dimples underneath that close-cropped, perfect beard.
"Check this out."
He turned, slowly, still masturbating himself, his hips gently rotating. I gasped as I saw him in profile, probably two and a half feet thick from front to back at the base of his chest, the mighty S-curve of his powerful back mirroring the undulating line of his stomach, only to be met by that huge, round butt that had held me in its power for all those blocks in the outside world. HE turned fully around and I saw him naked from the rear for the first time, neck practically invisible, head tilted back in ecstasy, traps like bread loaves crunched together, his huge, segmented lats making an enormous W that spread so wide that you could barely see half of the horseshoe triceps working his self-pleasuring hands. The cleft down his spine looked to be 6 inches deep, and his spinatus were like two cords the size of coffee cans, bending slightly to hold him up before they melted into that ass. Most musclebutts on guys as ripped as him are wide at the top, and pinched together in the middle before rounding out again at the bottom, and while that shredded power is sexy, it paled in comparison to this, a musclebutt the likes of which I have never seen. Even while flexing, it was two enormous bubbles of asscheek, only slightly squared to insert into his hamstrings. It was the roundest, biggest fat-free butt I had ever seen, beckoning me as he thrust it outwards, still rotating those industrial hips.
He whirled back around, still fondling himself roughly, still grinning, and then dropped his cock and shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.
"Alright, James. You've gotten a good look at me, and you know what you're getting into. Are you ready to become what you've always wanted?"
"Yeah, but who are you? How do you know who I am?" I sputtered.
"I've been watching you since I first saw you. My name's Mike. I originally spotted you in the village back in September. You were in a suit and tie, following some bald, tanned muscleboy around."
"Holy shit! I remember that day! I had just had some interviews and I saw that guy and totally trailed him for a few blocks, then felt stupid and headed back. Where were you?"
"Right here, watching on a screen. I have one of my cameras there-- the gym you saw him go into is a prime spot for scoping out New York bodies."
"Cameras? Where else do you have them?"
He laughed that easy, sexy, jock laugh again, and said, "Come on, I'll show you. We need to get moving anyway."
With that he sauntered across the room to a large painting, a Miro reproduction probably 6 feet tall, and as I scrambled across the room to follow him, feeling drunk with excitement, he pulled one side to reveal an opening. He looked back at me and jerked his head towards the opening before stepping up into it, and flipping a switch on the wall inside. He stood back against the wall and spread out his huge arm, saying, "After you."
I stepped into the hidden room and marveled at its contents. A bank of 9 flat monitors behind a console off to one side, and a smaller glass room in the center with a steel frame. Inside that frame was an odd looking piece of furniture. It was a seat of some kind-- fashioned out of metal, with a reclined back and an ergonomic shape, although it looked to be made for a man of Mike's gargantuan stature or bigger. I heard the whirring sound of electronics powering up and looked over to the console to see Mike seated in one of the two chairs, the screens flickering on to show street scenes, then each changing after a few seconds to a different shot, but as I walked up behind him, I began to notice that they were all of gyms or bars, and that beautiful or at least beautifully muscular men walked through all of them.
"Pretty cool, huh. This is how I found you. And how I got to be like this myself. I never could have built this body from scratch."
"What do you mean? And how do you have all of this stuff?"
"Well, to be brief, my father was a multibillionaire. He had inherited the controlling interest of his father's bioengineering conglomerate as well as some family money. I was his only child, and my mother died when I was three. He died about nine months ago, just as I was finishing my masters at Carnegie-Mellon. Everything went to me, and I decided to put it to a use I never would have had the balls to if he had still been alive."
"I'm sorry about your father. But how did all of this make your body so incredible?"
He grinned again, the somber expression evaporating. "Well, after I spent a solid month buying and installing the cameras, I spent another month or so monitoring all of these spots. I found the biggest guys and learned their routines-- the biggest ones always stick to a routine-- and then I visited these places and posed as a university scientist, which I was, anyway. I rented a small office and took blood samples from each of them as well as full-body MRI's and a number of other tests. It was easy to do--I told them I was doing a study and paid them a thousand dollars per appointment. Anybody trying to sustain an anabolic habit, let alone while paying New York rent was pretty much a pushover for that opportunity. I developed detailed profiles of each of them, and for about 3 months I worked out the traits of their respective gene patterns, until I had them isolated to specific physical characteristics, hair, teeth, skin, skeletal shape, and muscle belly length, basically everything. So when I said you could never make a body like this from scratch, I guess I was stretching the truth a little. What I meant was that diet, conventional drugs, and exercise alone could never make someone like me."
"I've never seen anything so beautiful," I muttered.
"You will, next time you look in the mirror, "said Mike."I'm going to change you, the same way I changed myself, and you get to decide exactly how you want to be changed."
"But why me? Why do I get this opportunity? And how did you know how much I want this? This is insane, it's the most perfect realization of my fantasies, I can't even imagine how you'd know this about me."
"Like I said, James, I've been watching you since I first saw you. After I spotted you that day, I had you investigated. There was a detective on your tail the whole time you were up here interviewing. I found out where you went to school, that you studied to be an architect, that you spent tons of time online looking at bodybuilder sites and researching exercise routines, steroids, and dieting techniques. I knew that you wanted to be huge more than anything, but that you simply didn't have the time or the energy to devote to it the way you wanted. I read your email and listened to your phone calls, and I became fascinated with you, how much you were like me, how much we have in common. I'm sorry I had to do it through such secretive means, but once I got to know what you were like, I realized that most people would never have known how much this fantasy dominated your life. I'm only doing this for one guy, and I know you're the one I want."
I was unglued, I sat there as Mike looked expectantly and guiltily into my eyes, and even within his bulk, his gorgeous, fuzzy, golden and perfect masculinity, I could see something yearning and lonely within him. He was so alone, and he was reaching out to me. As soon as I realized that, all of my doubt vanished, and I leapt into his chair and we both tumbled out of it onto the floor, me lying on top of him, and I kissed him passionately, holding his face with my hands. As I pulled away, I saw tears in the sides of his eyes, and one trickled down the side of his cheek. I wiped it tenderly away with my thumb.
"I'm yours," I said. "It's like I said when you asked me if I knew why I was here. I'm here to be with you. Now make me into something as amazing as you."
With that, he sat up, his agile speed under all that muscle still amazing me.
"Okay," he barked. "Get back up in the chair and look at the screens. We've got some choices to make."
He jumped into his seat and bellied up to the console, and began to type furiously. The screens cleared, except for the center screen, which said simply: "BODY TYPE:" The other 8 screens suddenly filled with digital renderings of male bodies of varying sizes and shapes.
"If you don't like any of these, we can always make a new one," said Mike," but I worked pretty hard on these, and anyway, we can customize any of them. Just check 'em out, and let me know which one looks good to you."
I eyed him incredulously, as each of the digital models slowly rotated, a glowing letter A-H to their upper right, a list of stats cascading beneath. A was a classic 5'9" 220 bodybuilder, B was more like an NBA star, 7' 320. I scanned through them all, but my eyes quickly went back to G, a thick-necked, wrestler body with amazing muscle separation and roundness, 5'7, 265.
Mike grinned again, looking up from his cock that he was casually working again.
"I knew it. That's the same one I picked."
"But can you really make me shorter?"
"No," He said, "I can't. That's why I'm bigger than that one. I can make you taller, if you want, but one limitation I have is that I can't shrink your skeletal structure. But bigger is better, don't you think?" and then he threw his arms up into a relaxed but incredible double bi.
I gazed lustily at him, and said, "Mike, I want my body to be just like yours. There's nothing about you that I would change. I want to know what it feels like to be shaped the way you are shaped, strong the way you are strong."
"Okay, but if I make you like me, you're going to weigh close to 330 pounds."
"Do it," I said. "Do it now."
"You're already bossing me around, and I still have a hundred pounds on you. You're gonna be quite a handful once you're changed."
"You got no idea."
He raised his eyebrows and gulped. I could see the little bottom lurking inside him, and the top in me was roaring and pawing the ground in anticipation.
"Okay, I'm sold," he said; "the body should be easy enough. I never would have picked it if it wasn't just what I wanted to fuck. And I never would have picked you if I didn't want to get fucked by you. But before I put you in the device over there, is there anything else, like skin, hair, or facial features that you want to change?"
Hmmmm. I thought to myself. "Yeah Mike, there is. I still want to look like myself, but just enhanced, you know? Keep my features in the same place, keep my eyes, the same color, but give me a caveman brow, a huge jaw, sharper teeth, fuller lips, and this--" I rubbed my scalp where my hair was beginning to thin a little.
"Say no more." He said. "I think I've got it. These are easy modifications. Now go over there into that glass room and get into the chair. The door will open as you approach. "
He turned back to the keyboard, and kept typing away. The G figure now took up 3 screens vertically, with the letters MOD now resting under the G to the left. The stats read 6'2, 340, bigger than he had said, but I certainly didn't feel like arguing with that. A window hovered around the head of the figure, and the face was, piece by piece, modifying to fit my specifications. I watched Mike's huge bulk shift nervously in his office chair as he ground his huge butt into it, shoulders still hunched like a computer geek, fingers still typing away.
"Skin color?" he hollered, not even looking at me as I tiptoed towards the mysterious chair in its enclosure.
"Olive," I said, "a couple shades darker than yours."
He moaned slightly in response.
As I walked, still naked, still erect, but with the confidence you attain in your nakedness after a good trick, I came within a few feet of the glass room and sure enough, just like the supermarket, the doors opened in front of me and I walked right in. There was nothing else in that room except a small refrigerator on the rear cinderblock wall.
"Go ahead and get in," said Mike," I'll be there in just a second."
Gingerly I approached the chair. It was like an artifact from the future. Scattered across its surface were small circular plates that had small holes in the middle. On the back, all of these holes had tubes or cords that wound into the main frame that held up the metal chair. The chair was shaped to cradle the length of the body, with two slightly bent, wide channels for the legs, and two more up top for the arms. A tube with an oddly shaped mouth was positioned between the legs. I touched the edge of the chair, and immediately it came to life-- a tiny row of lights all around the edge began to glow, and as I placed my hand on the surface, it warmed slightly until it was the same temperature as me. The room was a little cold, so I shrugged and swung my legs over and settled back into the chair. As soon as I let my weight fall into it, I snapped back into place, like I was being pulled by a magnet.
"Mike!!" I screamed.
He rushed into the door, still naked, still gorgeous, and holding out his arms. "Don't worry, don't worry, it just does that to keep you in position, I promise it's not going to hurt." I tried to nod, but I was fused to the metal surface.
"It's almost ready; it just needs a couple of samples from you. Hold on just a second, this will hurt a little bit." And all of the sudden, I felt something incredibly sharp pierce into my lower back. I screamed again, but after a couple of seconds the pain had passed and only a dull soreness remained.
"What the fuck was that?!" I asked.
"Needed some spinal fluid," said Mike. "That's why you have to remain immobile; otherwise you could have been paralyzed."
He laughed. "I know, I know, but it's all gonna be worth it in the end. Now I have to administer the formula to you."
"The formula? Wow, sounds like we even love the same clichés."
"Baby, I picked you. I promise you're gonna love everything about what's gonna happen."
He opened the small fridge and pulled out a tray of syringes, probably two dozen in all.
"The chair will administer a lot of chemicals to you through all the circular plates you saw on its surface. They all have injection prongs inside; somewhat similar to the one you felt in your back, although they won't be removing anything, so they'll be much less painful. Your bloodstream will be saturated, but I think it's a good idea to cover the front as well, kind of like the site injections bodybuilders do. Plus this way I can make a few personalized adjustments." He grinned mischievously. "Do you have a problem with needles?"
"This is kind of fucked up, but I actually think they're kind of hot." I said, with a trace of embarrassment.
"Good, because I've got a lot of them."
He then proceeded to inject me all over, in the front of my traps, twice in each shoulder, in my upper chest, in the top and bottom of my biceps, in each nipple, three in each forearm, one in each thumbpad, two in my lower abs, one in each oblique, one in each hip flexor, 4 in each quad, and one in each side of each calf. He did it with amazing speed and precision, and while the thick long bore of each needles stung intensely, as soon as it came inside I felt a sensation of euphoria, going rigid with flexation and limp with release almost simultaneously. By the time he finished, I was mildly aware of the vibration of the chair itself. I was pouring sweat and all of my muscles were spasming gently. It was one of the wildest feelings I've ever felt.
All through it, I focused dreamily on Mike's contours, watching him bite his lip and furrow his brow in determination, his long lashes framing his beautiful, focused eyes, alive with intelligence and kindness and obsession. But mostly I watched his huge arms twist and flex before my eyes, his shoulders bulge, his abs twist as he reached for another needle. This hulking perfect beast was a genius. A genius who wanted me.
"Okay," he said as he placed the last empty syringe on the tray. "Everything's ready. Are you?"
I moaned softly in response.
"That's my boy," he said. "Now there's one thing I didn't let you pick, because it's gonna be the way I want it." And he reached down and grabbed my purple, twitching, greasy dick, and stuffed it into the opening of the tube between the legs of the chair. The tube sucked it in, and the membrane inside clenched around it, massaging it fiercely once from base to tip. Immediately I orgasmed, convulsing for a solid minute before it subsided, and then I lay utterly limp and ecstatic, completely immobile. Mike pressed a button on the side of the chair, and I felt a prick briefly at the back of my neck and then a narcotic bliss flowed through me.
"Here we go," he said, eyes glistening with anticipation.
The chair became extremely warm all over like a hot radiator. I moaned, still sweating profusely.
I felt several stabs in the back of my calves, and a second of intense pain, followed by the numbness you feel after a tough blow. Slowly, the muscles began to expand, first the tendons connecting to my feet as my ankles thickened and hardened. Then the two heads inflated sideways until they were probably 20 inches around. Immediately, I felt a network of stabs fire into my hamstrings and the back of my knees. The transformation here was slightly different, as I first saw the fat melt away until my upper legs, the same size as before, were fully ripped, each muscle visible and mapped with veins. Again, the tendons in my knee thickened and hardened, and my quads began to fill up, from the base of the teardrop upward, sweeping outward dramatically, and raising up from the chair like rising dough as the twin channels of hamstrings beneath expanded hugely. By the time they were done, they were swollen to probably 34 inches around at their thickest. I felt a piercing pain in both of my feet, and found that I could move them again, followed by the release of my calves. They swung upward from the legs of the chair, engorged and flexing, and my feet were huge, probably 15s, disproportionate but beautifully shaped. I glanced at Mike, who said, "I took a couple of liberties." I started to reply, when suddenly my ass became a pincushion. "Oh, God," I moaned. The initial searing pain and following numbness passed like flashes, and then I felt the expansion begin. Like my calves before them, my thighs were released from the chair's grip, and instinctively rose upward to accommodate the mass of my burgeoning ass, since my back was still glued in place. I began to pump them in and out, marveling at their insane vascularity and thickness, bigger than Mike, or Branch Warren, or anything I had ever seen, but still curvaceous and shapely in their freakiness. I could feel my assmeat spilling to the sides as it was still squashed against the chair. A line of searing heat and pinpricks shot up my spine to the base of my skull, and immediately I saw the fat melt from my crotch and torso, just as had happened on my thighs. A valley fell between the columns of abs and pectoral on either side, and every muscle screamed with fresh definition before a second wave of pinpricks washed over the whole of my back. My stomach distended slightly into a ponderous musclebelly, only slightly bigger than Mike's, and the obliques and serrati bulged, gripping its sides. My chest rose several inches, and I felt my back expanding hugely beneath me. My lower back came loose and arched instinctively, although my ass remained sucked in place by the mysterious pull of the chair. My arms were still far out to my sides, as the chair was shaped to keep them almost 60 degrees from my torso, and I felt my new lat muscle, dense and thick, flaring out from my sides. Finally my chest began to swell, my nipples inflating into the bullet tits I had always admired, a deep cleft in-between my lower and upper pecs, the lower half rounded, the upper half bulging down into my pits below. A low whistle came from Mike, who was transfixed, pumping his huge leaking cock with one hand while he played with his nipples with the other. A single pierce shot deep into each armpit, and this time I flexed and savored the sensation. Immediately the front of my shoulders swelled hugely, fitting into my huge chest. Then, all at once, several stabs pierced through the length of both my arms and shoulders. I felt the medial head of each shoulder swell outward to basketball size, and then my arms began to thicken rapidly, 26 inches on the top, 22 inches on the forearm, veins snaking down the swollen bulges, and then my hands cracked and crunched, and the fingers lengthened, the palms broadened, huge and beautiful to match my enormous feet.
"You're almost done, baby," cooed Mike lustily.
I felt 4 new pricks, one in each trap, and one in each side of my neck, and enjoyed the feeling of being a true muscle-bound bull as they hardened and rose, and my neck swelled out past the width of my ears.
"YEAH!" I bellowed, noting a depth and power new to my voice.
Then the most painful yet, a harsh sliding jab of metal into the top of my neck that felt like it went inches into my skull. This time, the pain did not subside, and my face went into a clenched grimace, and presently I could feel my jaw crack and expand, and then the pain disappeared, and I ran my tongue over thick, meaty lips. The pull released from my upper body and I bolted upright in the chair, immediately flexing into a colossal double bi, and let out a long, guttural roar as I humped my dick into the tube that still held it in place. I looked down at it, and saw dark, silky hair spreading all over my belly and chest. I looked at Mike, and he nodded, grinning bigger than ever, and I felt several pricks along my shaft, and then the same massaging motion as when I first had my dick sucked into the tube. This time, though, I didn't orgasm, but the massage continued, each time I felt my dick longer and thicker in its grasp. Suddenly the tube released me, and I began to pull out my cock from its embrace. It seemed like it would never stop coming out, inch after inch. It was as thick as a large zucchini, and probably a full foot long, with a gorgeous flared head like a peach.
I sprang out of the chair, and threw my arms around Mike, lifting him, and he threw his legs around me. I held him under his arms, my huge thumbs deep in his musky pits, and lifted him until I could place his quivering hole on the end of my shaft. I dropped him, and watched him sink in joyous agony as he impaled himself, eyes shut, mouth open. I cradled his back and moaned as he milked me with his huge musclebutt and talented mancunt. Tears poured down his cheeks and he opened his eyes to look at me. I pulled him close into an animal kiss, then wrenched my face free and demanded, "Where's the bedroom?" He threw out his huge right arm, and collapsed his head on my chest, and I strode through the opening doors out of the chamber and saw a door right where he had pointed.
I bobbed him up and down on my cock, as he clutched at my back, and I walked up and opened the door. The room inside was fully mirrored, and an enormous, low bed filled its center, with a lamp and table on each side. I knelt at the base of the bed, and slowly pulled him off of my cock to drop him gently on his back. I caught my reflection behind the pillows and froze. I was enormous. I had the proportions of a short bodybuilder or wrestler, the roundness, thickness, and insane bulges that only men under 5'8" can have, but I was six feet two inches tall. My face was an erotic cartoon of its former self, and my newly darker skin and body hair were completely animal. I noticed for the first time that I had a full, thick beard, which only made my light eyes gleam even more in the dim light. I was probably every bit of 340 pounds. I looked back down and saw Mike smiling back up at me lovingly, playing with his butthole.
"You done staring at yourself?" he asked.
"For now." I replied, and brushed his meaty paw out of his hole. Masterfully, I slid my full length into him again, slowly but forcefully, and began a power fuck as I leaned down and pressed my caveman brow against his. He clenched his huge legs around my lower back as I fucked him with animal abandon on my hands and knees, biting his jaw and neck, rutting mindlessly with pleasure. This was my new body. This was my new man. This was my new life.
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