Transform: Friends in need

by Also Known As   

Franklin refuses to let his best friend Albert induct him into the Muscle Club, despite the awesomeness of Albert’s body and the control over it he’s gained. Albert agrees to leave him alone. But Franklin is feeling these bursts of powerful arousal coursing through him as they’re playing video games together, and he knows Albert’s doing it on purpose…

“You’re doing it again.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re totally doing it.”

“I promise, I’m not fucking doing anything.”

“I’m telling you, you’re doing it again.”

Albert sighed and rolled his eyes. “Well, if I am doing it, I don’t know I’m doing it, so technically I’m not doing it, it’s doing it.”

“It?”

“Okay, They. They’re doing it.”

“Well, can you stop them from doing it?”

“I think so.” He peered sideways toward his friend’s face, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you want them to stop doing it?”

“I’m trying to play a fucking game here! It’s fucking distracting!”

“Yeah, but it’s a nice distraction.”

“Just… hose ’em down or something. Pull it in. Douse the heat. Whatever it is you do, do that instead.”

Albert was grinning in spite of himself. “Sorry,” he said, though only half-heartedly.

It was called ‘tugging.’ That’s what Albert was doing. He knew he was doing it. He wanted to do it. He liked doing it. It was weird and fun and it felt good. He didn’t even have to move anything. Didn’t have to touch anyone, didn’t have to do anything except think about it. Or, more specifically, think about the guy he wanted to tug on.

He didn’t know who coined the phrase, which one of the fellow members of Muscle Club started calling it tugging, or who did it first and discovered it could be done at all. He wondered about that, sometimes. The first time one guy probably accidentally started tugging another guy. Did he even know what he was doing, or what he could do, or what the outcome would be? Did he do it full-force, tugging the other poor guy so hard that he came in his shorts, a flood of warm white cream spitting out of the dude’s suddenly rock-hard prick?

He also thought the word was so peculiar and apt. He liked that it sounded like ‘fuck.’ “I want to tug you so hard.”

“I could tug you until the sun comes up.”

“Tug me, dude. Just shut up and tug me.”

It was different from the other thing, which was called tethering, and which had been done to him. In fact, he had been the first guy ever tethered by anyone, which was something he was quietly proud of. Being the first anything was a kind of honor, even if, technically, the guy who tethered him didn’t even know what would happen.

He supposed he should have been pissed at Scott for doing it to him, especially without any warning or anything. But in the end, it was all worth it, especially when Scott and his friend Derek both turned their hoses on him and changed Albert into the superhuman muscle god he was now.

A muscle god with special powers. Like tethering, and tugging.

Tethering and tugging were different, but also similar. A connection was required for either, but not a physical one, and the results were very different. If you tethered someone, you needed some sort of physical contact that both of you shared, but there didn’t have to be anything physical connecting those things. So, like, when he was tethered, Scott had done it over a cell phone connection. They were each holding onto their phones, and Scott’s connection with his sent the tether to Albert, and Albert’s connection to his meant that he had a fucking huge orgasm and his body, particularly his muscles and his dick, grew. They actually got bigger from a phone call, which was cool.

Tugging only required visual contact, and only one-way. Albert only had to look at someone, kind of focus on where they were, and then he could tug on their cocks and make them, eventually, cum.

Just by thinking about them.

He was smiling now. The sound of bullets and flashes of light and splashes of blood were pouring from the flat screen and the PS3. Franklin sat a couple of feet away from him on the couch, trying intently to keep killing some stupid aliens or Nazis or whatever the hell they were supposed to be, while Albert was gently, softly, ever so carefully tugging him.

Like any skill, you had to do it a lot to get better at it. And Albert had been doing it a lot. In school, out on the street, at the mall, and now here at his best friend’s house playing video games on his flat screen. Albert was quietly, slowly, but continually, tugging Franklin.

Tugging meant that he was, basically, turning him on. He was somehow, some way, sending out these sort of sex vibrations or brain pulses or something, and they were pointed at Franklin, and the result was that Franklin was getting hard. Franklin’s dick was gently, but urgently, throbbing and tingling and swelling in his pants. All because Albert wanted it to.

Albert shifted his gaze from the screen to the crotch of his friend’s jeans and saw the evident bulge there. He pursed his lips as he realized that Franklin had a pretty nicely sized Johnson in his pants. Nothing compared with the twin Whoppers poorly camouflaged by the sweatpants he was wearing, of course, but nobody outside of a Muscle Club member would ever be able to compare to his own mammoth and ever-hungry pricks.

After all, he did have two of them.

He huffed out a silent laugh through his nostrils and bit his lower lip. He tugged gently at Franklin’s libido, coaxing his brain to do what Albert wanted it to do, which was pump out the signals that told his cock to swell and his blood to heat up and his nipples to tingle and his asshole to—

“I told you to stop it!”

“I did stop it!” he lied.

“So you were fucking doing it!”

Albert flinched. “I mean… I mean I was trying to, like, make them stop it.”

Franklin looked at Albert’s bulging crotch. “You act like those things have minds of their own.”

“Sometimes I think they do,” he admitted, though he tended to like how they thought. His cocks twitched as if in response, pushing against the thick cotton material holding them hostage. Each plump head and each thick shaft was pressing for release. He could feel them growing just thinking about it.

“Well, tame ’em or something, dude. This is a fucking hard level and you making my dicks throb isn’t helping.”

“How do you know it’s me? Maybe you really, really like this game. I mean, look at that guy on the screen! He’s fucking built. Maybe you like—”

“Albert, shut the fuck up.”

Albert smiled again. Franklin was cute. He’d never noticed that before. He was noticing all kinds of new things since joining Muscle Club. The way a guy moved. The way he spoke. The actions of his arms and legs, what they told about how he was feeling, what he was packing, how he’d react in the sack—or out of it. There was something supremely sensual and amazing and sexy about every dude, now. He watched them all like a predator, searching for new meat. Except that predators could lurk in shadows and use surprise, which was hard if you looked like he did now.

For one thing, he was big. Really big. Big everywhere. Over seven feet high, easily over 500 pounds—though he hadn’t actually weighed himself to find out—and copious mounds of muscle bloomed under his skin in fat, firm, round bulges. Muscle pressed against muscle in high, fine wedges and deeply defined peaks. It was stacked on his chest in heavy bands and swelled from his legs in thick cables. It pushed his butt out into prominent globes and made his stomach look amazing with small separated balls of firm power. It was everywhere, and it was hard as rock.

Another thing that was hard as rock—or it would be, if it could be—was his cock. Or, more accurately, his cocks, because he’d grown another one. And it wasn’t just that he had two of them, which would be great. It was also that each one was huge and incredibly sensitive. Almost a foot long, each—and easily over that when aroused—and thick, too. Not to mention his balls, which seemed like they were constantly making thick, warm cream to shoot from his cannons.

And when he was with another Muscle Club member, the sex was mind-blowing. It was as if their new bodies were built for it. He didn’t have anything to compare it to, but in the couple of days since his initiation, his ass had been plowed by some of the most beautiful and well-endowed men on the planet, and all he wanted was more. And fucking another Muscle Club dude was heaven itself. Thick shocks of sexual bliss erupted along every inch of his massive meat, and when he came another screaming orgasm it felt better than the last one.

They said he’d keep growing, getting bigger and stronger and more powerful every fucking day. Some of the other guys, you could see it happening. They’d just all the sudden swell with more muscle and grow taller and wider and be bigger than they were a moment before, but for most guys—like him—it happened slowly, but continually, and they said he’d probably notice it most in the morning. Things might fit tighter. His cock would feel thicker and heavier in his grip, and maybe his head would rise closer to door frames and his shoulders would rub against them as he worked his huge muscled bulk through.

It was, he thought, simply awesome.

Tethering and tugging were just two more pieces of awesome in the whole awesome package. Tethering was certainly more powerful, and the more direct the connection was, the more pronounced the effects were. Using a phone worked best, but almost any kind of technology from webcams to camcorders worked, as long as there was some kind of visual or aural feed. Recorded media worked, too, but the effects were stunted and took longer to manifest. Repeated viewings helped, but if you wanted to really get a guy going, all you had to do was call them up.

Tugging was harder to manage. Doing it wrong meant you could have a guy creaming his pants instantly. It took a certain amount of finesse and practice, but the results were always satisfying. And there was something… erotically powerful about being able to make another dude cream just by thinking about him. Just by looking at him, fantasizing about him, imaging what his cock would be like squirting hot cum into your mouth. What his ass in your hands would feel like. What pushing your hard prick inside his warm, welcoming hole would do to both of you. Just… thinking about it.

That was a turn-on by itself, and Albert really enjoyed doing it.

Now, he was sitting next to his friend Franklin, who was not in Muscle Club and had told Albert in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want to be. Albert had just shrugged his massive shoulders, sending his traps toward his ears and making the muscles of his chest bunch and stretch. “Whatever, dude,” he said in his new, lower voice, towering over his friend’s small body. “You don’t want any of this,” he added, pulling his arms up and throwing them into massive spasms of powerful muscular growth, pushing his newly-gained masses of brawn into an intense display of pure strength and masculine perfection, “that’s your loss, not mine.”

“Cool,” his friend replied softly, either intimidated or impressed by what Albert had become in the space of a single day. It was happening a lot, both at their schools and nearby, and Franklin thought it was weird and probably dangerous. It scared him, even though Albert appeared to be the same guy inside that he’d always been. “You still wanna play Kill Zone?”

To Franklin, Albert looked exactly the same and entirely new. His face was a rough facsimile of the face Franklin knew so well. There were those dark brown eyes with their long, thick lashes, and that soft little nose, though it looked less soft now and more angled. His ears still stuck out and his hair was still a muddy brown, but it seemed to shine with healthiness and extended now along his cheeks and jawline, lending his face a more mature and even handsome air. His expressions, though, were certified Albert, with the single eyebrow almost constantly arched in Spock-like curiosity, and that ready smile filled with teeth. Maybe his newly grown whiskers made those teeth look extra white, now, but otherwise the face was the same.

The body, much less so. It looked now as if someone had Photoshopped his friend’s head onto the body of some gym-based musclehead. Thick, hard, fat mounds of brawn were swelling along every inch of him, plus he now stood a good two feet taller than he had. Franklin was much less familiar with Albert’s body than he was with his face—after all, Albert had always worn long-sleeved shirts to cover up his thin arms and sunken chest, even buttoning up the top button as if to hide any hint of flesh from prying eyes.

Now he was parading around half-naked, or practically. Maybe that body couldn’t fit into clothes, but the shirt he wore was skin-tight and riding up his torso to expose inches of a new six-pack of bulging abdominals on his tight belly. A crop of fur erupted over the top edge of the cotton tanktop, arranged along the twin globes of his pec shelf like a dark forest. And more curls were spreading across the waistband of his sweatpants in clear indication of a wealth of pubic hair down below.

“A game sounds good,” Albert had said, then he smiled his perfect smile and nodded his head, passing through Franklin’s front door and sitting on his couch, tugging at his friend’s dick silently.

At first, Franklin didn’t say anything. But then the couch was shaking because Albert’s massive body was silently laughing at something, and looking over, Franklin realized that Albert was staring at his crotch, and he realized that he was showing a lot more dick than he was entirely comfortable with.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s something. You’re doing something.”

“Nothing, dude, I think you’re just horny or something.”

Franklin covered his hard-on with his hand and said, “Dude, cut it out.”

“Franklin,” he rumbled, with a serious expression on his utterly handsome and entirely too beautiful face, with the new growth of dark whiskers across his chin and cheeks, and a smolder in his eyes that seemed dangerous and exciting, “I’m not doing shit.”

But he was. He was doing something. Franklin could tell. There was no other explanation for what he was feeling, which was, in a word, horny. Or in three words, really fucking horny.

And he didn’t know how or why, but he could tell that the feeling was coming from his friend. He was definitely the target of the horniness. But he wasn’t feeling horny about Albert. Something about him, something he was doing, was making him horny. This feeling was causing him to become fully aware of his cock, as if nothing else existed, and it made his cock throb and tingle in a most agreeable way. He felt slightly hypnotized or mesmerized or something, but whatever his friend was doing, it made it really, really hard to concentrate on anything else.

He could feel his cock getting hotter. And definitely harder. Uncomfortably large, too, cramped up in his pants. Fuck, he loved his cock. It was so big and hard and amazing. He fucking loved cumming. Jacking off with a load of spit in his grip, sliding it up and down the shaft, circling the throbbing helmet with his palm, drawing off the oozing slick of precum as he started to leak and then pulling his fingers to his lips and—

Franklin jumped off the couch and rounded on his huge, muscular friend. “Fucking cut it out, dude! Fuck!”

“I keep telling you I’m not—”

“You fucking are too! I can tell!”

Albert tilted his head. “How can you tell?”

“I dunno, I can just tell! Fucking cut it out!”

Albert smiled and nodded toward Franklin’s crotch. “From this angle, it looks a lot like you’re enjoying it.” Franklin’s prick was pushing straight out from his lanky body, tenting his pants with a six-inch pole.

“I’m fucking not!”

“I can make you cum.”

“Stop it, Albert!”

“I just have to think it.”

“Don’t.”

“I won’t even touch you, Franklin.”

“Dude, stop.”

Albert smiled. “I just—”

Franklin suddenly sucked in a deep breath and his eyes rolled up and his hands balled into fists and his cock exploded with a flood of warm cream into his shorts, staining his jeans a dark blue at the same moment that the Playstation controller hit the rug.

It felt good. It felt amazing. It felt pure and powerful and he came hard and deep and full and emptied his balls. Franklin’s cock fucking exploded with cum. It shot from him and surrounded his dick in liquid warmth, a thick flow that filled his shorts and dripped down his legs. He shot again and again, six, then eight, fast, hard squeezes that left him aching for more of the hot liquid sex his body had produced because Albert had wished it. When he managed to open his eyes again, he was breathing hard and felt hot and sweaty.

Albert was merely sitting on the couch, his huge arms folded behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankle and his crotch pushed forward, spilling its wealth of firm dick forward over a pair of fat balls as he looked at what he had done so easily. It looked like his cocks were physically shoving the sweatpants off his body, pushing them down his slim hips. A thick forest of shining dark curls erupted at the waistband and thinned as they traveled up his muscular belly to disappear under his skin-tight ribbed cotton athletic shirt.

He was smiling. “Not so bad,” Albert said, “is it?”

“Holy fuck.”

“Holy? Maybe.” Albert answered, tilting his handsome head. His eyebrow arched and his eyes twinkled mischievously. “Nice though, wasn’t it?”

“I made a fucking mess,” Franklin half-moaned. “Oh, Jesus Christ.”

“What are you embarrassed about? I’m certainly not.” He leaned forward and then stood up, slowly, a towering mountain of muscular perfection house in silken skin and soft curls of fur across the wide expanse of his chest. “I fucking love it. Making you cum.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Franklin?” He stepped toward him. There was heat pouring off his huge body. And a scent that Franklin found suddenly attractive and shockingly arousing. “Don’t do this?”

He came again. He didn’t know how or why, or where his balls managed to produce more warm cream, but his cock inflated and started to gush more cum into his sodden shorts. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Ah, fuck.”

“Yeah, I know,” Albert answered. “Feels good, huh?” He smiled.

Franklin started cumming again. His cock happily shot another fat fountain of cream. His knees went weak and his breath was shallow and his body was hot. He leaned forward and put his hands against Albert’s massive frame for support. His cock was rock hard and urgently throbbing. It was swimming in a pool of cum and loving it. “Jesus, Albert, how did you—?”

“Like this.”

Franklin’s cock exploded. He leaned back and it popped over the edge of his jeans and shot a fat, high arc of cream that splattered against Albert’s chest and belly. He dipped his touch to the warm wetness and sucked his friend’s cream off his fingertips, licking the taste from his lips. “Fuck, Franklin,” he stated softly, “you taste good.” He tilted his head and asked, “May I have some more?”

“Albert, wait—”

He was shooting again. Thin streams of cum escaped his red, angry dick and sprayed Albert in white cream. He pumped out a half dozen more times, his cock growing painful and his balls nearly seizing up, but unable to withstand Albert’s unspoken commands. “Oh, fuck,” he said, feeling his asshole tighten as he shot another sudden stream that arched up and splattered against Albert’s huge body, soaking through his thin cotton shirt and dripping down the valleys between his deeply etched abs.

Albert set his hands to the hem of his shirt and stripped it from his body, unveiling the fat globes of his pec shelf and the two thick nubs of his nipples. His torso was overwhelmed with brawn, and he seemed to expand outward now that he was shirtless. He tossed his tanktop to the floor and rubbed at one of those fat, dark peanuts with his large fingers, feeling the erotic surge manifest deep inside and spread across his body.

“Yeah, dude,” he said in a deep, soft voice. “Feels fucking amazing, huh?” He moved his hand down his body and dug his fingers under the loose waistband of his sweats, grasping his fat pricks and pulling them free. “Imagine how it feels to cum with two of these, Franklin. Imagine the feeling of pumping out thick, fat ropes of cream. Over and over and over, dude, just fucking cumming gallons and feeling it erupting up every fat inch of cock until it splashes all over your hard, muscular body.”

As he spoke, his twin cobras began to swell and lengthen. “Fuck, yeah, dude. Feels fucking amazing.” Veins twisted and throbbed along the thick inches. The skin grew tight and red. The heads bloomed wider and thicker. A gleaming drop of precum appeared and swelled into a fat dome that quickly expanded as the thick, clear honey started drizzling down the fast-growing pricks, now swelling at an alarming rate and rising by the inch. He eased his hands along the fat shafts and teased a steady stream of honey from each eye. Before long, his angry, red pricks were fully coated in his precum, and the sound of him stroking them was a slick, audible slurp in the suddenly quiet room.

Franklin looked at his friend’s new cocks and felt something like lust or hunger. Albert’s sweats fell away and he was revealed in his full glory. They were fucking beautiful. So fat and firm and long and luscious. The helmets were as big as plums, and almost as purple. Veins wound up them, feeding them and making them grow bigger and bigger. Clear honey was streaming from each eye, drizzling warmly down the shafts and gathering on his fat balls. “Oh, fuuuuck, Franklin. This feels sooooo good.”

The heat pouring off Albert’s body was palpable. He was huge and hard and incredibly aroused. His load was swelling in his balls, a thick flood of powerful cream pushing against the dam inside him. “I need to cum, buddy,” he said softly. “Ah, fuck, I gotta cum so hard.”

Albert wasn’t tugging Franklin anymore. He didn’t have to. His friend wanted it. It was clear. His cock was throbbing between his legs. His eyes looked feral and hungry. He was so small, so vulnerable, and all Albert wanted to do was cum all over him and watch him grow into a fucking muscle monster. “You want this, Franklin? You want this, dude? You want everything I have to give you?” He raised his arms and sent his collection of brawn into spasms of growth. “Muscle.” It bulged from him everywhere, in great fat wedges and lean, hard cables. It stretched across his chest and swelled from his arms. He was fucking massive. “Cock.” He lowered his hands to his hard-ons, grasping one of his pricks in each, slowly stroking them. The helmets flared and bloomed, red and shiny, drooling thick streams of precum over his knuckles and down each thick, long shaft. “Ass,” he said, turning to showcase the hard, round contours of his butt, and the deep, dark, hairy valley between each perfect globe. His scent grew strong in Franklin’s nostrils. Funky, sweaty, tangy and utterly masculine. He turned back around, still holding each of his monstrous erections, and smiled, and said, “Cum. Gallons of cum. Buckets of cum.”

“Fuck, dude,” Franklin whispered, his eyes locked on his friend’s fat twins.

Albert sank to his knees before his best friend, his two giant cocks standing straight and tall, arching up like trees between his legs. His balls were so large, so full, that they sank to the carpet. They bulged with the wealth of his seed, growth fat and round and packed with cum. “You don’t know, dude,” he said. His voice was deep and powerful, gruff with need and desire, soaked with sex. “What this feels like. Having all this muscle, all this power. All this… overwhelming sense of being a man. A fucking huge man, with two cocks, and all this strength and size.” His body was packed tight with muscle. Every cable, every fiber pushed against his shining skin. “I can’t even… dude, you just don’t know.”

“I—”

“Tell me, Franklin. Tell me you want this.”

“I want—”

“You just have to ask me. Just ask me. And you can have it all.”

“I want—”

“Muscle. Cock. Ass.”

“I want it.”

“And cum.”

A sudden hot fountain of thick, sticky, salty cream splashed against Frankin’s face, reaching into his mouth and flowing down his body. A cascade of rich, powerful, muscle-building cum was shooting from both of Albert’s 15-inch long pricks. He released the full power of his pent-up flood, emptying his balls in a hard, thick spray of creamy cum, sighing and groaning with contentment as his body delivered an orgasmic wash of pure sexual power.

Franklin gasped and sputtered and gagged on the flood. It was hot and thick and splashed all over his face and he held up his hands and they were coated in cum and he felt the hot wetness flowing over his chest and across his shoulders and it crept around his neck and down his back and over his belly and surrounded his prick and his whole body felt white hot, like lava was flowing across his flesh, and then something else took over, another sensation entirely, one of intense and unyielding power that entered his body and began the process of altering every cell and every fiber and every follicle utterly, transforming him into his most perfect and muscular form.

Albert pointed his fountaining cocks at Franklin’s body and watched his flood of hot cum bathe his friend. At first it coated him like cream, then it began to sink into his body like water on the desert. He could see it seemingly evaporate, even as he shoved more and more of his load all over Franklin’s body. He knew what came next, and his heart began to race in anticipation of watching Franklin change into another hyper-muscled teenaged god, and he couldn’t wait to see what he would look like and to watch his second dick grow.

Franklin was delivered into heaven. The sudden and intense burning sensation and claustrophobic flood that blocked his senses gave way to an overwhelmingly sexual bliss. His whole body tingled and throbbed and his brain went on vacation and he could feel his cock growing hard as steel. It felt like he was on the verge of cumming again, letting loose with yet another thick delivery of cream, but he couldn’t do it. Not yet. The thrum and buzz of orgasm shook his senses and grabbed his cock and licked his asshole but he didn’t cum.

Because he began to grow.

He could feel it happening. There was a tightness, at first, that grabbed onto his shoulders and chest, like his skin was suddenly two sizes too small. The tightness spread across his back, and reached down toward his add, then circled around and crawled across his belly. His cock, still feeling rock hard and throbbing with need, seemed to grow hot again. He became super aware of it, as if it was so large and so fat and so hard that it was uncontrollable. It was going to swell as big as his arm. He moaned, deep in his throat, and felt someone laying his body down on the floor.

Albert stood back up after positioning Franklin in the middle of the living room, knowing that his five-foot eight-inch frame was about to swell another yard taller and several dozen pounds heavier. He started to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt but his friend’s body was already swelling with muscular development and was quickly ripping the seams of his clothing apart as the thick wedges of brawn bloomed across his body.

His chest inflated into two thick plates of power, and then the plates ballooned into globes, and the globes split into a massive pectoral shelf. A shadow fell across the expanse and Albert didn’t know what was happening until the shadow became a thin dusting of soft curls that was growing quickly into a thick mat of fur. His nipples were spreading like ink stains, fat and juicy and lickable nubs that moved down as his chest grew fatter with brawn.

He heard Franklin moan or whisper and then the sound of his jeans ripping apart drew his attention downward as fat cables of raw muscle swelled out from the torn fabric. Muscle was blooming everywhere, now, almost bubbling under the skin as it developed. He was growing very quickly, and the muscle was swelling by the inch, developing into broad wedges and fat balls with deep valleys between.

Franklin’s dick began to grow, then, too. It swelled and lengthened alarmingly, almost inflating, and then Albert watched another dick appear next to its brother, the ultimate and final sign that a new member of Muscle Club was being born.

Franklin’s second prick started small but grew very quickly much larger, spilling out and across one thickly muscled thigh until the skin grew tight and the head swelled within its newly formed foreskin and Albert knew what was coming next. He’d experienced himself only a day before.

Franklin was about to have the ultimate orgasm of his young life.

Franklin’s hands moved across his new body. Every touch was a sensual delight. Every inch craved attention and delivered intense tingling throbs of sexual bliss. He felt his second cock growing between his legs in sudden, hard, overwhelming thrusts of masculine power manifested as orgasmic lust. He felt it grow fat and hard and long and he reached down to grab it, holding it in his hand and feeling it swell larger by the inch.

He gasped and shook as he neared the culmination of his development, the delivery of his first super-charged, super-thick, super-powered flood of rich transforming cream from his swollen balls. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned, as he felt the warm, wet sensation of someone’s mouth clamping down on his new prick. Opening his eyes and looking down his body, past the two pectoral globes rising with even more muscle and the dark forest of curls spreading like angry ants emerging from their home, he saw Albert’s shaggy head lying against his belly. Taking one hand from his growing body, he placed it on his friend’s head and pushed Albert’s mouth down on his lengthening cock.

Albert swallowed Franklin’s second snake anxiously and teased it with his tongue and sucked it hard and stroked it firmly, hungry for its delivery. He had only moments to wait before his mouth was flooded with the tangy, delicious, luscious load he desired. Franklin’s first shot was thick and full and powerful, shooting down Albert’s throat and coating his teeth and tongue in rich, warm, salty cream.

Franklin moaned as he came. Albert was sucking on one prick expertly and the other, lying hot against Albert’s cheek, swelled and arched and shot a fat rope of cum across his chest. He shot again, immediately, another delivery even thicker and harder than the first that splashed on his neck and across his lips. His tongue reached forward and pulled his own cream inside his mouth and he gasped and wanted more, so much more. “Gonna cum,” he said. “Aw, fuck, here it comes.”

The first shots were merely teasing at the eventual flood of thick, hot cream his pricks then delivered. He came fast and hard and fully, splashing dozens of fat fountains all over his still growing body. His own cum seemed to make his muscular and sexual development find new footing, and his growth in strength, power and size accelerated.

Already as large as Albert, Franklin began to grow even bigger.

Albert could feel it happening, and then he realized it was happening to his own body, too. Franklin’s wealth of hot cream was performing magic on both their already massive forms, growing more muscle on top of the mountains already bulging on their bodies. He swallowed the rich tangy flood as quickly as he could, recognizing a familiar warmth spreading through his body—the warmth of muscular development coated in the thick sexual bliss this odd and miraculous process provided. He was growing again, getting larger still.

Franklin came over and over as he grew. Bigger and bigger, his head stretching farther from his feet as his body’s already brawn-packed form grew fatter, denser and more powerfully muscular still. Everything tingled and throbbed and swelled in a continual orgasmic process of growth. He groaned and growled and pumped his load free, sending fat ropey streams of cream into his friend’s mouth and over his fur-covered chest and thick neck and handsome face. His load soaked into both bodies and fueled them to the largest members of Muscle Club, yet.

When at last Franklin’s orgasms slowed and stopped, the two teen gods lay against each other on the living room floor, naked and glorious, each the owner of nine-foot-tall bodies with twin 18-inch cocks. Muscle bulged fat and lean and powerful across their frames, and they were breathing hard from excitement and satisfaction. “Fuck, dude,” Albert said. “That was intense.”

“What just happened?” Franklin asked. His voice was absurdly deep, emerging from his immense chest like an earthquake.

Albert laughed slightly and brought his hand to his head, wiping his brow. “Fuck if I know, bro. That’s kind of what happened to me, only, like, ten times more powerful.”

“Jesus.”

Albert sat up and looked down at his friend, feeling his massive pricks throbbing with desire at the sight of Franklin’s new and improved form. “Dude,” he said softly.

“What? What is it?”

Franklin was massive, hairy, muscular and handsome. His face was lean and angular, with full sensuous lips and a prominent masculine brow. His eyes had darkened nearly to black, and so had the hair that had sprouted nearly everywhere. Thick mats of dark curls forested his chest and belly, and erupted from his armpits. A thick bush of black pubes crowned the glory of his twin cobras, and more soft, shining body fur dusted his thickly muscled legs. His skin was bronze, as if he had spent hours under a tropical sun, and the overall effect of his new body and face was one of absolute male dominance.

Franklin looked at Albert, then, and realized he was larger. Much larger. Larger even than he had been when he walked into Frankin’s house barely squeezed into his clothes. Massive plates of thick muscle bulged from everywhere, separated by deeply defined cuts and slashes that gave him an unbelievably shredded look. Every muscle leaned into its brother perfectly, and it was all coated in that creamy skin that looked like it wanted licking. He wasn’t the furry bear that Franklin had become, but enough manly curls dusted his form to accentuate and compliment the fat masses of raw brawn jutting up everywhere. “You’re fucking bigger,” he said.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“What did you do?!?”

“I didn’t do this,” he answered, bending his arms and sending his biceps and triceps into massive power, bulging fat and hard under his skin, threatening to break through if they got any larger. “You did.” Then he bent down over his friend and pressed his lips against Franklin’s and gave him a passionate kiss, feeling his cocks throbbing all over again.

Franklin didn’t break away. In fact, he placed his hand behind his friend’s head again, only this time pulling him deeper into the lip lock rather than shoving his mouth down on his spouting cock. The kiss was good, he decided, and he wanted more of it. He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue between Albert’s lips, finding his friend more than open to the idea. His huge body was heating up with passion and need, and he could feel each cock swelling in reaction to the kiss.

Albert moved atop his friend and kissed his mouth eagerly. Their cocks, all four of them, throbbed and swelled and pushed against each other. Their huge chests, filled with hard muscle, moved across each other until their nipples met, sending intense sexual bliss rocketing toward their growing pricks.

Franklin moaned and pulled back. “Aw, fuck,” he said, looking into Albert’s eyes. “You are fucking hot, bro.”

Albert smiled and licked his lips. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” His brow arched familiarly and he asked, “When does your mother get home?”

“Not for hours.”

“Excellent.” He pulled away, brushing his fingertips across Franklin’s hugeness before reaching down and grabbing one cock in his powerful grip. “Ever fuck another guy before?”

“Of course not.”

Now those eyebrows wiggled and danced across Albert’s forehead.

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