Chris felt betrayed, horrified, when his dad told him that he'd signed him up for the Olympus Men program. Everyone knew about the program, and what it was producing. The idea might be exciting for a good-looking, popular, rich gay man like his dad, but not for him. Oh, Chris had no problem with his dad being gay, or with the gay friends that hung out around their hillside home in West Hollywood. What he had a problem with was the idea that his dad wanted to turn him into one of those unbelievably huge hairy musclemen, so exaggerated in both physique and genitalia that it was impossible for them to wear normal clothes and, from what everyone said, so completely dominated by their oversized organs that it was impossible for them to have any interest in life beyond the demands of their constant erections. In other words, the Olympus Men were engineered to be some kind of supermale sex machines, solely for the pleasure of other men, and Chris wanted no part of it.
Chris, sixteen, and an excellent student in his junior year of high school, planned on a Harvard law degree and a career in the higher echelons of New York or Washington society. But it was his father's money that was his ticket to his dreams, and the threat of being cut off from it that proved to be the leverage that forced him to acquiesce to his father's insistence.
“This is all about what you want. I don't want to be some kind of sex freak, some ridiculous muscle freak. And I don't want to be gay.”
But his dad said, “I don't care what you want. I've supported your lifestyle of luxury, and now you're going to contribute. Those guys are making more money than any lawyer. And don't pretend there's more integrity or morality in being a lawyer than in being a highly paid sex god. You're right, this is about what I want. I want to watch you. You've always had a smug attitude about my being gay and your being straight. You've always been so look-down-your-nose indulgent about my friends and me being into guys' bodies. Well, Mr. Oh-so-cool, I happen to love huge, hung, hairy guys, and now I'm going to enjoy turning you into one of them.”
“But what about school and everything.”
“Fuck it. You won't need school. You'll be making more money without it than you or I can spend. Don't argue with me, Chris. If you want to remain in my will and be my son, with all those benefits you enjoy, you are going to do this. I'm taking you tomorrow.”
Chris begged and pleaded all the way to the center where the special formula was administered. Even in the waiting room, he begged not to make him do this. When the doctor made him take off his clothes, he cried, he was so frightened. When the doctor filled a syringe, he pleaded, but the shot went into his arm anyway.
Then something strange happened. The shot took effect almost instantly, and it drained his ability to resist. He wanted to cry, beg, plead not to do this to him, but he was dazed, hypnotized, in a waking dream, where he had no choice but to do what the doctor said. He couldn't cry, couldn't say no. The doctor had him sit on the table, and he gave him another injection, this time in a vein in his arm. Chris watched as if from some great distance while the doctor tied off his arm, found the vein, slid the needle into it, and slowly emptied the large syringe. Immediately, he felt a very pleasant warmth spread through his body. And while that feeling was sweeping over him, the doctor told him to spread his legs. His mind told him he was embarrassed, humiliated, that he wanted to run away, but he found himself spreading his legs, just as the doctor ordered. He watched the doctor lift his testicles, and with still another syringe, slide the needle into first one, then the other, and inject what seemed to be an ounce of fluid into each one.
On the way home, he remembered sitting there, still in the dreamlike state, slowly coming back to normal. As he began to feel more normal, he felt the fear again in the pit of his stomach. He was just a regular, popular, good looking sixteen year old guy, and he didn't want to be a freak. But he couldn't run away from whatever that doctor had shot into him. It was in him now, probably working on him already. Oh, Jesus, what was going to happen. He still had the warm feeling all over his body, and he could feel, sitting there in the car, the tenderness in his balls, like he'd been kicked in the groin, like his balls were swollen and sore.
When they got home, as soon as they were inside, his dad said, “Okay, stud. Go on, get undressed. I want to see this from the beginning.”
Chris couldn't believe his dad was telling him to get undressed. But he also couldn't believe what he discovered as soon as his dad said it. He felt normal again, but he found himself acting in a way that didn't match what his mind was feeling. He wanted to go to his room and wish this all away, but he found himself taking off his clothes, standing in the living room. He took off his shirt while his dad watched. Something in his mind, a voice he didn't recognize, was thinking, “Okay, man. You want to watch me, you want to see me naked? Well, watch this.”
He threw the shirt on the sofa. He unbuttoned his Levis. He kicked off his shoes and let his Levis drop. He sat down, pulled off his Levis and socks, and then stood up again. He stood there in his underwear a minute or two. One side of his brain was telling him he didn't want to get naked in front of his father, especially the way he was watching him. The other voice, the other side of his brain, was enjoying it, drawing it out, letting him wait, teasing him by standing there in his low-cut white briefs. His balls felt so tender and swollen, he put one hand there to feel. They were swollen, and they felt big in his hand, and he felt his dick begin to grow stiff in his briefs, and while he partly wished he could hide it, he let it grow and watched it happen, and watched his father watch.
When he was fully hard, he pulled down his briefs and stepped out of them. His mind was racing, without his permission. So, you wanted to look, to watch me? Well, here it is. How do you like it? But he also wanted to go to his room. God, was that stuff making him feel this way, already? He couldn't believe it was him, standing here, in front of his dad, with an erection. Not him. Not Mr. Prep. He would never do this. But there was that other voice that kept popping into his head. A nasty, dirty voice, putting nasty, dirty thoughts into his brain.
“Looks like your balls are kinda swollen up, there,” his dad said, “or maybe they're just bigger. Looks like you're pretty turned on there, boy, for someone who didn't want to do this.”
Chris reached down to feel his balls, lifted them in his hand and looked at them. “Fuck, Dad. Look at them. “Shit, please don't make me do this.”
“Don't tell me you aren't turned on. Look at that hard-on.”
Chris had never been so hard in his life. His dick arched up from his youthful pubic hair, so hard and full of blood it felt like it could stretch the skin. “I can't help it,” he said, almost in tears again, but even as he said it, his other hand wrapped itself around his cock. He had to feel its hardness. And he found himself standing there, his swollen balls in his left hand and his stiff dick in the other, looking at the young manhood in his hands, and then looking up at his father. “Is this what you wanted, Dad? You like seeing me like this? Is this hot to you Dad?”
“Seeing my boy with those big nuts and that stiff, hard dick in his hand? Yeah, Chris, that's hot. You feel hot, too, don't you? You can't help it, like you say, so you may as well enjoy it. Right?
I bet you even feel like you need to jack off. A dick that stiff, gotta have a big load built up in there, begging for release. Go on, son. Don't be shy. I want you to feel it's okay to jack off in front of me. I want to watch you get off. “Chris couldn't fight the feelings he had. He did feel hot. So fucking hot. “Yeah, okay, Dad. You want to watch? How's this?”
He began to very slowly stroke his dick. The sensations were intense waves of deep pleasure.
“Oh, yeah,” Chris heard himself saying, “Oh fuck, yeah. You like to look at my hard dick, Dad? You like these big swollen balls? Are they hot looking, Dad?”
He stroked, slow. He felt like someone else, hot, sexy. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but at the same time, something deep in him liked it, something raw, something animal, something free of inhibition. He saw how his dad was looking at him, how he was watching, and the look of arousal in his father's eyes reached deep into that animal place and stimulated him even more.
“Fuck yeah, I know you like it, don't you? You want to see your hot little boy cum, too, don't ya. Yeah. Fuck, Dad, gotta cum. Oh, yeah, oh fuck, Dad, here it comes. Watch this, Dad.”
He shot a load of cum that felt like a bomb of pure sexual pleasure and release, so strong it curled his toes, bucked his hips, pumping out spurts of heavy, hot cream.
“Unh, unh, aaaaoooowwwwww.”
“Yeah,” his dad said, “that's my stud boy.” He grabbed Chris's shirt from the sofa and tossed it to him. “Now, why don't you clean up that mess.”
His dad turned and went to the kitchen, and Chris stood there, suddenly feeling again like the preppy Chris, embarrassed, humiliated at what he'd just done. He wiped himself off and cleaned up the rug the best he could, thinking he just wanted to get dressed and hide from what had just happened. But his dad called from the kitchen.
“Take a shower if you want, but don't bother to get dressed. Unless we have company, I don't want to see any clothes on you. You're gonna start changing, boy, and I want to see every little change. You hear me?”
“Yes, Dad, I hear you.”
In the shower, Chris wanted to cry. Already, he felt weird about his balls being so swollen, and about getting so stiff and hard and jacking off in front of his dad. And what was that other feeling, like another person living inside him all of a sudden, making him act like that, and talk dirty and everything? He felt like whatever they gave him was giving him a split personality.
That night, he and his dad watched TV like always, except he had to sit around naked and he felt very confused and awkward. Still, that other personality kept talking in his head, telling him that if his dad wanted to watch, let him get a good look. So he sat around with his legs spread, leaning back, acting casual and feeling strangely sexy despite himself.
The next day his dad woke him up and as soon as he opened his eyes, he realized he was lying on his bed, on his back, naked, with an erection so intense his hand found it and started to stroke it before he was even fully awake. His dad stood above him and laughed, but Chris didn't care, his need to cum was so intense. When he shot his load all over his chest and stomach, it felt so hot that he rubbed it all over himself, feeling its slippery sexiness, looking at his dad and saying, “Is that what you like, Dad? You like to see your boy get hard and cum, huh? Maybe you want to watch me do it again in the shower? Huh? Is that what you want?”
There was that other voice, that nasty boy, again.
His dad said, “Is that what you want, Chris? You want me to watch? You want to jack off for me again?”
Chris realized his dick was still hard and he was still so fucking horny.
“Yeah.” He got up out of bed. “Fuck, yeah.” He was so hard. “Watch me milk this big fucking hard dick. I know you want to.”
So Chris went to the shower, soaped up, and let his father watch him jack off again. His dick felt big and powerful in his hand, his balls felt big and full. He stroked his cock slowly, watching himself, almost like it was someone else doing it. His cock even looked big to him. At sixteen, he thought he had grown as big as he ever would, and had gotten as much hair on his groin as he was going to get. Now, his dick felt big and hot and his groin looked hairier than before. Fuck. It felt hot. He put more soap into his pubes. God, he felt hairy down there. He held his balls, still swollen and so full, while he watched himself, totally this other guy, in the shower jacking off for his dad, and he felt sexy, nasty, and totally hot.
When he finally came again, the big, hot load drained him for the moment, and he felt like Chris again. He toweled off and went to his room to get dressed, and then remembered he wasn't supposed to get dressed. His dad wanted him naked. But he looked, anyway, for something to put on. The closet was empty. All his clothes were gone. In his dresser, everything was gone. The only thing there, in the top drawer, were several jock straps and several skimpy posing trunks, really tiny ones, like bodybuilders wear. He called his dad, and his dad said he taken everything else away, that he would just have to get used to wearing only those things, and they were just for when company came over. Company?
His dad said not to worry about that yet, but pretty soon, he would be bringing some of his friends by. They were going to want to see how he was coming along. And speaking of coming along, had Chris noticed anything different today? Because his dad had. He pointed out that his dick had already started growing bigger and he had gotten hairier on his groin all around his dick and balls. He thought he was hairier in his armpits, too, and he made Chris lift his arms, and it was true. His pits were full of thick, dark hair, much thicker than before.
Chris couldn't believe these things were happening so fast.
That's very hot, his dad told him. I know you feel hot, don't you, starting to get hairy, to get a big dick. Makes you hard, doesn't it? Makes you want to jack off again, doesn't it?
Chris couldn't even say, aw, come on, Dad, don't make me, not again, before his dick got so stiff so fast that it took over all his feelings. He tried to fight it, but he could feel that dirty boy taking over. Yeah, fuck yeah. Hairy kid. Hairy fuckin sixteen year old crotch, hairy fuckin pits, big fucking dick. Yeah, fuck yeah. You want to see your boy get a big fuckin cock, don't ya? You want to see your boy get all hairy, don't ya. Yeah, it feels hot. Aww, fuck yeah.
And that nasty boy stood there feeling so hot and sexy, feeling the new hair on his groin, stroking his bigger, thicker cock, until he came again, his body reaching an explosive orgasm, shooting volleys of thick cream to his total, deeply satisfying, erotic pleasure.
For the rest of that first week, Chris found himself jumping back and forth between panic and pleasure, between hating and loving what was happening to him. He felt more and more schizophrenic. But each day there would be more changes, sometimes even in the course of a day he would notice changes. And one Chris would give anything to stop them, while the other Chris felt uncontrollably hotter, hornier, totally more sexual.BottomTop
His legs began to grow hair, first lightly dark up to his knees, then thicker and darker as it spread up his thighs. His arms grew hair. His whiskers darkened and grew faster, soon filling a complete shadow outline that covered his jaw and neck. The hair on his legs continued to spread, and the hair on his groin grew and spread until one joined the other. His pubic hair spread out and joined with the hair on his thighs, grew between his legs, up into the crack of his butt and starting to spread onto his cheeks. And he found his groin hair growing up his belly, merging into a thick line of hair, clear up to his navel. He was growing a treasure trail!
And while that hair was sprouting, and growing, and spreading, he also began to notice the first signs of muscle growth. Subtle at first, he felt his abs grow hard and begin to show washboard indentations, and then slightly raised ridges. He felt his back widen against his arms, ever so slightly, but definitely. His shoulders seemed to be widening, too, and the shape of his pecs became broader, deeper, more defined. He was getting the V-shape that every guy admires and wishes for, the shape that emphasizes narrow hips and a tight, small waist, drawing the eyes down to where the V pointed, to his crotch.
And there, hanging from his growing tangle of dark sexy hair, his cock and his balls daily became a little larger. His cock lengthened just a little, thickening to match its length, and even though the growth was slight each day, he could feel the weight of it. His balls were growing as well, forced to pump out more and more of their incredible rush of hormones, a flood that he could feel, stronger every day, driving his body, and his confused and increasingly horny mind, to change. Every day the weight and size of his meat grew, and it was making him feel so intensely, erotically masculine that he could not keep his churning mind off his crotch.
By the end of that week, his need for sexual stimulation had grown constantly, relentlessly, until he found himself, even sitting around watching TV, or eating dinner, absent mindedly touching himself, feeling his hair, his muscles, the size of his genitals, and inevitably jacking off. Jacking off became a casual and almost constant thing. He began to grow more comfortable as a sexual creature freely expressing his intensely sexual nature. There was no denying it was pleasurable, and even seeing the pleasure his dad got watching him, constantly increased his own enjoyment. His drive, his need was insatiable, and that nasty, dirty boy became easier and easier to let loose. By the time his dad took him for his second weekly injection, he was actually beginning to enjoy himself immensely. At least the nasty boy was.
Chris was surprised and embarrassed when his dad had him dress in one of the bikini trunks to go to the center. He had tried a couple on, at his dad's insistence, and a few times he had worn one of the jock straps, because his dad wanted to see him in them. He had felt both embarrassed and sexy. But wearing one of those tiny, skimpy bikinis out in public was just embarrassing. Still, he felt sexy in front of the mirror when he got into it. He was getting bigger down there, and it showed, and so did all the new hair he had grown all over his groin. Driving in the car, even though he knew he was looking good now, for a sixteen year old kid, he thought he would die when he had to get out and walk to the building in front of people who would, without doubt, stare at him. But when they arrived, it wasn't as bad as he thought. There were several other guys going in and out, wearing the same thing, and they were a lot bigger and exposing a lot more than he was. And he realized, despite what he thought, something inside him found those guys extremely cool, parading their muscles and masculinity that way, so open about it, so casual, even blatant. It made him feel a little more confident about himself, boyish as he still was by comparison.
In the office, while he was being measured and photographed, he found himself enjoying the attention. The shot that got him stoned and would relieve the pain of the other shots felt good. The doctor showed him photos of himself last week so he could see his own progress. Something deep in him was turned on by it, even while he was shocked to see so much change so quickly. Before he had looked like a sixteen year old boy. Now he looked like a mature college guy maybe, with a grown up body, a mature, muscular shape, and the whiskers and pits and pubes of a fully mature guy. The hair on his arms and legs looked hot, and the way his pubes spread out and framed his dick and balls. And, man oh man, did they look like the dick and balls of a grown up guy—a hung grown up guy. A well-hung grown up guy. Yeah, this was weird, freaky, strange, but he had to admit it felt pretty fucking hot. So hot, he found himself spreading his legs as soon as he saw the syringe and heard that nasty boy telling the doctor to shoot him up good, yeah, fill his balls up with that stuff, yeah, give it to him good.
All the way home he could feel it in his balls, he could feel it pumping those hormones, making him hornier than ever, knowing how it would make him grow. It seemed to intensify all those feelings about his body, his sexuality, even the hair growing on him. His balls felt so swollen in his bikini, making that bulge bigger still than it was on the way there, but it felt hot to him, having big nuts making a big bulge. He caught his dad looking several times, but he just let his legs hang apart so he could enjoy it along with his dad. He kept running his hands over his body, feeling his pecs, his arms, the ridges he was getting down his stomach. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.
“Getting into it more this time, I see,” his dad said. “Maybe being turned into an Olympus Man won't be so bad, huh?”
Fuck, Chris thought when his dad said that. Turning into an Olympus Man. Whoa. The reality hit hard. It was happening to him, little by little, but no doubt about it. The pictures of those guys, the pictures he'd seen, the ones he'd just seen at the center, jumped into his head. He was being turned into one of them. Those special bikinis they always wore to hold their giant packages, their absurdly huge, massive muscles, the hair they had all over their chests and abs. Was he really going to get like that? When would he start to get hair on his chest? As his mind raced, his cock grew instantly hard, and the nasty boy took over. “Maybe not,” he said as his dick popped out the top of his bikini. “I know you like it. You like seeing me grow, don't ya? You want to see your boy all huge and hairy, don't ya? Fuck, you already got my balls growing and you got me all hairy down there. You like that, Dad? You like my hairy crotch? You want to watch me jack off right here in the car, don't ya? Fuck, dad, I gotta jack it. Watch me jack my big dick for ya.”
And the nasty boy stroked his cock and felt his pecs and abs until his hips bucked and his toes curled and he felt orgasm everywhere in his body. And when it came, he leaned back and let it come, strong and hot.
“Oh yeah, oh fuck, Dad, oh yeah, it's fucking hot, Dad. Yeah, so fucking hot. Gonna be an Olympus Man. Fuck, Dad, fuck. Fucking huge, hairy sex boy, dad.”
“Yeah,” his dad said, “Get into it, kid. Making you into a huge fucking sex boy. Fuck yeah. Chris Olympus, muscle god.”
“Aww, fuck, Dad. Chris fucking Olympus, fucking muscle god. Let's get home, dad. I gotta get naked, man. I gotta jack. Fuck, I'm so horny. I gotta jack again.”
“Yeah, I'll get ya home. You can jack that hot dick all you want. Maybe you're even ready now for some real fun.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Oh, like maybe showing some of my friends what that formula is doing to you. They've been asking when they could come over and see you.”
“You mean you want to show me off, Dad?”
“Damn right, I want you to show off, Chris. Think you're into it? Think you can let them see what a stud you're turning into?”
“I guess if that's what you want, there's not much I can do about it, huh?”
All of a sudden, the nasty boy went into retreat, and the old Chris was back. How totally weird he felt, sitting in the car, riding with his dad, wearing nothing but the skimpiest little bikini trunks. He looked at himself and saw how he was changing, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. The bikini he was wearing was stuffed so full with his balls, so tender and sensitive and full of that formula, and it was going to get more and more ridiculously full. His dick would grow, until it was like some of those stuffed sausages he'd seen on the guys at the center. Jesus, what would that be like? And where was all this hair coming from? He looked down at the hair spreading out from under his bikini, exposed pubic hair, groin hair, belly hair, his legs were so fucking hairy. And his muscles were already growing. Okay, the washboard stomach was cool. But the way his back was getting so wide that he felt it crowding under his arms. The way his pecs were starting to stick out, and his arms getting real muscles, and his legs. They weren't just hairy, they were hairy and thick, and hard, so he had to push them together. And they were doing all this to him just to make him some kind of sex machine. Fuck, he thought. Fuck. There wasn't anything he could do about anymore. He would never be a regular sixteen year old kid again. Even now, he could feel this new dose in his balls. It was stronger than the last time. He remembered telling the doctor to give it to him good. Jesus. What was wrong with him? What were those feeling he kept getting, those nasty, dirty feelings, that nasty boy that kept taking over his head? But he knew that was part of the formula, too.
And there wasn't a fucking thing he could do to stop it. He could feel it so strong in his groin, pumping his hormones, slamming his body with hormones, spilling into his blood, into his cells, his muscles, his bones. Christ. Even now it was making him change, even riding in the car it was in him, so strong, making him change, and he couldn't stop it. It was too strong. Fuck, it was so strong.
When they got home, his dad parked in front of the house. The neighbor from across the street was out front working in his yard, and Chris knew his dad had parked there just so he would have to get out and walk by the neighbor in his little bikini. Fuck. He didn't want his dick to be hard, at least. Then he realized that as soon as he thought that, it got soft. The neighbor was a friend of his dad's, or at least they had become friends. Chris knew the guy was gay, or would do it with anybody that offered a hot time, and he knew that his dad had been one of those people. He was younger than Chris' dad, probably about twenty five, one of those many extremely good looking guys in Hollywood trying to break into television or movies. Just like all of them, he had the hair, the face, the charm, and the very-worked-on body. Just now, he was out front in a pair of cotton Lycra shorts and high-top tennis shoes, and nothing else.
When they pulled up, Chris' dad got out and yelled across, “Hey, Larry, how's it goin'?”
“Hey, Kyle. Fine. How 'bout you?” Chris sat in the car thinking he would give anything if he didn't have to get out, stand up in front of this guy, wearing this ridiculous little suit. But just as fast, he felt other thoughts racing into his head. This guy was hot looking. Knew it, too, wearing those shorts that showed his cock and balls. Looked pretty nice, too. Great butt. Muscular. Nice and muscular. Little bit of hair on his pecs and belly button looked hot, too. Bet if he's into muscles, he'd be into mine. “Hey Larry,” Chris heard his dad say, “Come 'ere a minute. You know my son, Chris. Did I tell you I was putting him through the Olympus Men program? One week now, just got his second treatment. Come over here and take a look at him.”
“Yeah,” Larry said, setting down his tools, “I think you did mention it.” He started across the street. “So you're really doing it to him, huh? Wow.”
“Chris, get out, let Larry take a look at ya.”
Chris found himself opening the door and getting out, not feeling shy or embarrassed. Whatever it was that was flooding his body was flooding his brain, and he could feel the nasty boy jumping in. If this guy thinks he's into showing off in those shorts, let him get a load of this. He stepped forward, totally aware of being dressed only in those tiny trunks, bulging so big and heavy he could feel it, the trunks so tiny they showed his butt and his pubes. He knew how muscular he'd gotten now more than ever, because he looked at Larry's muscular body and realized Larry wasn't much bigger than he was. Yeah, he knew Larry would like this. “Hey Larry,” he said, putting out his hand to shake. Shit, even his voice was deeper.
“Chris?” Larry was totally surprised. “This is Chris? Holy shit. One week?”
Chris just grinned. Let this guy take it in, get a good look.
“Yep,” Chris' dad said, “One week. Whatta ya think?”
Larry's eyes scanned Chris, head to toe.
“Unbelievable,” he said, “Fucking unbelievable. I mean, I've seen those guys, pictures and stuff, but I never saw anyone going through it, anyone I know. Jesus, man, look at you.” Now he scanned Chris' body again, but more slowly, taking in the details. “How do you feel?”
“Sometimes a little weird, you know, but pretty cool, I guess.”
“Jesus, I would think so,” Larry's eyes paused on Chris' pecs, then scanned down his abs, pausing again at Chris' newly hairy bulging groin. “I know I would.”
Both Chris and his dad saw an immediate reaction in Larry's shorts. Larry felt it and saw them look.
“What do you say, Chris?” Kyle said.
Chris knew he should say thanks for the compliment, but the nasty boy completely jumped in, and he loved seeing the rise he was causing in this gorgeous actor's shorts. It excited him. Yeah, He liked that reaction a lot. He could feel his own dick reacting, and that was just fine, too. And he heard his voice, his deeper, so masculine voice, answer.
“Well,” he said, “I say it looks to me like Larry could use a break. Maybe a beer? Why don't you ask him in, Dad?”BottomTop
Chris heard the words come out, and even he was shocked by how seductive, how totally, blatantly erotic he sounded. He oozed sexuality, and he knew it. He could hear it. He could feel it.
“Sure,” Kyle said, watching this exchange, grinning, “Why don't you, Larry?”
The snake in Larry's shorts grew suddenly large and very obvious.
He looked around, up and down the street.
“Well,” he said, “Probably shouldn't be standing around out here like this. Okay. Guess I could use a beer.”
Kyle went to get beers as soon as they were inside, while Chris and Larry waited. Larry showed a boner as hard as it could get stretching the soft, clinging material of his shorts, and he obviously knew he didn't need to hide it.
“Man, I'd never guess you're the same kid,” Larry said. “That Olympus formula is looking real good on you.”
“Yeah?” Chris asked. That formula was buzzing in his blood now, those shots in his balls working overtime. “It's starting to feel pretty good, too.”
“And you've only been on the stuff for one week? Amazing. Can you feel it working on you? Can you feel it making you change and grow? I mean, you must.”
Kyle returned with the beer, gave them each one, and said, “So, Larry, what do you think of my stud-boy? He's gonna make a good, one, huh? Already getting pretty hot, don't you think? But it's pretty obvious what you think, isn't it?”
“Sorry, Kyle. I guess I'm not hiding it very well. I know he's your boy and all, but Jesus, man. Look at that body already. Fucking hot man. He's getting that Olympus man hair, those pecs and arms, that bubble butt, and that package in those trunks … how could a guy not be jealous? Shit kid. You must be jacking that thing all the time. I know I would be.”
Kyle sat down in a chair, smiling, watching his boy experience the power of his growing sexuality over this handsome Hollywood hunk.
“Go on, Chris,” he said, “Be neighborly. Let your admirer see it all. You can tell he wants to.” Chris was feeling extremely hot now, the nasty boy in full possession of his feelings. This hunk was so hot for him, and he loved the allure he knew he was exerting. He loved the big boner in the guy's shorts. He loved turning this guy on to the point where he couldn't even hide it.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, fixing his eyes seductively on Larry, slowly starting to pull down the bikini, watching himself as he did. “Yeah, I can feel that stuff working on me. Getting all hairy like this in a few days. Watching my balls swell up, get all big and heavy, and my dick, man,” he pulled the trunks down all the way, letting his meat fall out, “my dick feels bigger and heavier every day, man. Feels fucking hot, man. And thick. Fuck yeah I can feel it. You like it, man? You like this big dick? Getting bigger all the time, man. Fuck yeah, man, this boy's getting a big fucking dick. You like my hard body, man? You like these new muscles? Pecs, man. Big, hard pecs. Arms getting big and hard. Legs getting thick. Back getting wide and thick. You like it, don't ya, Larry. You like the way my butt's getting big and hard, hot boy bubble butt, don't ya, man? I bet you want to touch me, don't ya, dude? You want to mess with my big hard dick, don't ya? Maybe mess with my hard young ass, huh?”
Chris stepped out of his bikini, his dick steel hard, arching up toward his hairy belly, letting Larry scan him from head to toe. The nasty boy was doing all the talking, completely taking over his feelings, so hot, especially in front of his dad, who was sitting and watching. Larry's erection was straining at his shorts, twitching, jerking. Chris stepped boldly up to him, on one hand hardly able to believe he was doing this, feeling like this, on the other hand, acting from pure animal desire.
“Look at you, man. You want it bad.” Chris reached down and rubbed the rise in Larry's shorts. “Show me, man. You're so fucking hot and handsome, and you know it. Big Hollywood stud for this hot boy, man.
Come on, man. Do it. Show me.”
While Kyle watched, Chris slid one hand into Larry's shorts, forcing down the shorts, grabbing Larry's hard cock and pulling it out, while he reached the other hand to the back of Larry's head and pulled his face close. He stared into Larry's eyes, his lips parted, waiting. Larry grabbed Chris' head and kissed him hard, deep, hot, while his hips pushed into Chris'. “Fuck, yeah, dude,” Chris heard himself say between kisses, “You know what they're fixing up this young bod for man. Show me. Show me everything, stud.”
And right there, in the living room, with his father watching, Chris experienced the fulfilling of male lust, the sweaty, burning hot passion, the wild erotic pleasure of physical sensation that men can indulge together. He felt Larry suck him to orgasm and drink his juice, he felt himself burying his face in Larry's hot hairy groin and sucking his hard rod till it gave up its cream to him, he felt the pleasure of plunging his big rod deep and hard into Larry's hard muscular butt, and the sensation of Larry's tool reaching inside him with its masculine power. He felt it all, and it felt good beyond imagination.
It was after dark when Larry finally put his shorts back on to leave, exhausted and satisfied. “Thanks, man,” Chris said, standing to say goodbye, still naked, still hard, still horny. “Too bad you gotta go. Hope you'll come back over and check on my progress, man. A lot.”
“Count on it,” Larry said.
In the dark of night, while he lay in bed almost asleep, the old Chris came back and felt scared and trapped. He could still feel the formula and the hormones raging through him. Having the hair, the muscles, the dick and balls he had now was okay, even kind of cool, but his mind raced to what would still happen, how much bigger and hairier they would make him, until there was nothing normal left. He knew that nasty boy, gone for the moment, was taking him over with his animal lust and insatiable drive, little by little, that eventually, the Chris he wanted to be would disappear and he would be what they were making him—a creature whose whole purpose and being was about his sexuality, who would be little more than an erotic pleasure machine. Tears came to his eyes and he rolled over, and even as he did, he felt the size and weight of his dick and balls, and despite himself, he started to get hard, but finally he fell asleep.
His dreams were hot and tormented. Over and over he saw himself in the center, his legs spread wide, a big hypodermic needle plunging into his balls, injecting burning fluid until he thought he couldn't take anymore, that he would scream. And then he would hear the voice of that nasty boy saying fuck yeah, man, give me more, make me grow, man, make me huge. He tried to make him leave, go away, let him be normal again, but the nasty boy would laugh at him and say fuck you, kid, you know you want it. Gonna be a huge fucking Olympus Man. You know you want it.
The voice teased him, wouldn't go away. He heard it saying, fuck yeah, Dad. Your boy's gonna be a big fucking sex toy, you want your boy to get huge and hairy, don't ya, Dad?
“Yeah, Chris,” his dad's voice was saying. “I want you so fucking huge and hairy. I want you to get so hot you can't think about anything but muscles and man hair and sex.” But it was real, and the nasty boy's voice was his waking him up, and his dad was standing next to his bed, smiling.
When he opened his eyes, he could feel both guys inside him for a minute, the old Chris wanting to beg it to stop, but the nasty boy controlling him, taking over, pushing Chris deep inside, and he felt his hands reach for his crotch and feel his big hard dick, lift his swollen, hot balls, and he was Chris Olympus, full of sex, big, hot, and totally turned on. He got up, went to the bathroom, flexed in the mirror, and his hands were all over his chest and abs. He had grown bigger during the night. And now he saw that tiny little hairs had sprouted all over his chest and abs. He could even see the hair growing into a line down the center of his abs. His jacked off for his dad and once again he felt completely turned on by his body. He showered while his dad watched, and he loved being watched. He felt his new hair when he soaped up, and he jacked off again, feeling how thick and heavy and big his dick was getting. “That must have been a good dose they gave you,” Kyle said to his son while they drank their morning protein drinks. Chris felt thicker, his muscles felt full and hot, and he was aware of his dick and balls, already heavier and bigger than the day before. It made him hot to feel it, and he was hard again as he flexed, loving the effect he had on his dad.
“Yeah, Dad. I feel it. I feel it a lot. Is this what you want? You like this? Getting hair, Dad. Look at this. Coming in all over, man. You like this, don't ya? You're turning me into a big fucking sex god, Dad, big fucking Olympus sex toy. You like seeing your boy turning into a big fucking sex toy, don't ya?”
“Fuck yeah I like it. I like the way you were with Larry, too. You liked that, didn't ya, Chris? You liked that hot man sex, didn't ya?”
“Fuck yeah, man. Made me fucking hot. When are you bringing over your friends?”
“Why? You feel like showing off for 'em?”
“Isn't that what you want?”
“That's what I want to see, Chris.” So Kyle made a couple of phone calls, and told Chris that some friends would be right over. He told him to go into his room and get dressed in one of the posers and come on out when he called him. Chris went into his room and chose a suit, a light blue one, and put it on. He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting himself in the trunks. Now he could really tell how much bigger his was, because he filled up the pouch of the trunks so full and tight that they rode so low they barely held him and covered his dick. His pubes were exposed all they way down. He would need some of those special trunks soon, but meanwhile, he felt hot beyond his own belief seeing his muscular body in that tiny poser, with so much hair showing, man hair, hair that he hadn't even had a few days ago.
He heard the doorbell and his dad called him out. When he came into the room, he saw two guys he knew, workout buddies of his dad's, guys he had always thought were incredibly good looking and built in that Hollywood gay way, if only they weren't queer. But now, he wanted them to feel what he felt about himself, and when he saw the expressions on their faces, he knew they did. For a while they all sat around, acting casual, talking about how incredible Chris already looked and hot he would be when this was done. Chris knew he was irresistibly sexy and he sat so they could see him in all his growing glory. He watched as they got hard-ons in their shorts. And the nasty boy began to tell him what to do. He went to them and told them what hot guys they were, told them they should get undressed, and he would too, if they wanted to see the rest, see the magic of this formula he was being given. They both got out of their T-shirts and shorts, and Chris found himself going from one to the other, letting them feel his muscles, letting them hold his big, thick cock, and he heard himself talking, the nasty boy teasing them, kissing them, feeling their hard muscles, wanting them to use him any way they wanted to. They all ignored his dad, watching, smiling, hard in his own shorts. “Fuck my muscle butt, dude, while I fuck your buddy. Suck my big cock while I suck his dick. You like this muscle boy, don't ya dudes?
You like this big dick, don't ya? Want to see me get bigger, too, don't ya. Fuck yeah, I know you do.”
When those two were exhausted and left, around lunch time, saying they couldn't wait to come back and, uh, enjoy Chris' future progress, Chris felt hornier than ever. They had lunch, and he couldn't stop feeling his muscles, looking at his new hair. He jacked off several times, but the formula and the hormones were only growing stronger in him, making him want more.
That afternoon, his dad had a few other friends over, and that night, a few more. Chris couldn't get enough of them. And slowly, gradually, but steadily, he could feel himself growing.
Each day he was bigger. Each day the hair grew thicker and felt hotter and hotter. Each day, he found he liked it more, and teasing his dad became his great pleasure. By the last night, he couldn't wait to see Larry again, and for Larry to see him. He asked if he could go over, but his dad said he didn't want him to go out until the whole thing was done, so they called Larry and invited him over.
Larry came over in a tank top and another pair of those thin Lycra shorts he always wore, and as soon as he walked in, and saw Chris, his cock stiffened up in his shorts.
“Holy shit,” he said. “That's fucking unbelievable. You sure you're only sixteen?” he laughed. “You've got a better bod than me. I don't know if I can handle that.”
“Handle it, dude,” Chris said. “I want you to handle it.”
This time they went into Chris' room, to the bed, and made passionate love. Chris didn't know sex could be so hot, that he could feel this way about some dude, just because he was so fucking handsome, and sexy, and muscular. He loved the feel of Larry's stubble scratching his face and body. He loved the smell and the feel of his own face in Larry's hairy groin when his sucked his hot, hard cock. He wished Larry could take some of this stuff, because he found that he wished Larry had bigger muscles, a bigger dick, and more hair, and he told him so. “I know what ya mean, dude,” Larry said. “I know what ya mean.”
The third treatment was even more intense. Within a couple days afterward, Chris began to look like a hard-core bodybuilder. His lats swelled up and pushed out his thick arms, his biceps bulged, his legs felt like tree trunks and he couldn't get his knees together. The hair grew thicker on his torso, and his balls and dick grew so much bigger that he couldn't wear the posing briefs any more. He had to wear the jock straps, when he had to wear anything at all. The parade of men was steady, and Chris found himself pulling them out of their clothes and ravishing them with savage hunger. And when he wasn't engaged in sex with one his his dad's hot friends, he was hanging out around the house, looking in the mirror, jacking off constantly. His body was producing so much semen that he needed to relieve himself of it almost constantly, and the pleasure of sex and orgasm just grew more hot each time. Now and then the voice of the old Chris would surface as he would think what the fuck am I doing, but just as fast, the nasty boy would be back, driving him, turning him on, making him hot, making him need sex again, and again.
By the fourth treatment, he couldn't imagine what else it could do, but he knew that at the end of that week, the process would be done and he would be completely transformed into an official Olympus man. That would mean that he would go to live full time at the Olympus facility where he would be expected to perform as a full time sex toy. He felt sad to leave home, in a way, but now he had grown into his new role, and the old Chris almost never spoke up. He loved the nasty boy. He totally wanted to be the nasty boy. He felt his body fill up with the final surges of sexual power. His cock stuck out fourteen inches now, and he knew from seeing the other guys already finished that it would reach sixteen by the end of the seek. Sixteen years old with a sixteen inch dick. And it was so fucking thick and fat, so heavy, so totally masculine. He understood the meaning of a power tool, and he loved it. When his body grew so thick with muscle that he crossed over the line beyond bodybuilder and no longer looked normal, he welcomed it. He would go the Olympus House, and get naked, and never have to think about anything but man sex and muscles and hair and cock and hot buttholes again. And he would have all those other Olympus men, the ones he'd seen every time he went there, to play with any time he wanted. And he wanted it. What a hot life. To think he didn't want to do this, that he begged them not to change him into this muscle god, this sex god. The last night at home, he called Larry to come over, to have one great fling, to see him fully transformed. He would miss Larry. Of all the guys he done it with, and he couldn't count how many, Larry was the hottest. He even thought he might feel something like being in love with him, but there was no point in that. The point was sex.
He waited, naked, hard, in the living room. His dad went out so they could be alone this time. The doorbell rang. Chris called, “Come in.”
The door opened, and Larry walked into the living room. He was in his usual Lycra shorts, shirtless, and he was already hard, probably got hard just walking across the street. And Chris couldn't believe his eyes.
He hadn't seen Larry for over a week, and what he saw now was a sex dream come true. Larry had put on probably twenty pounds of muscle. He had gotten thick and hard. His hard dick was stretching his shorts, and it was obviously about two inches longer and thicker, too, and his balls made a bulge like they never had before. And all over his chest and abs was the slightest but definite sprinkling of hair.
“Whatta ya think?” he said, standing just inside the door. He flexed an arm and grinned at Chris. “Oh, man!” Chris said. “Did you . . ?”
“I had to, dude. I couldn't let you leave without me. I had to see what it felt like. Fuck, man. This is fucking hot as shit, isn't it. You like it? Just think, man. Two and half weeks, and I'll be joining you, and we can do this for the rest of our lives.”
And the two muscle gods fell into a steaming embrace.