Transform: Morning wood

by Also Known As   

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“Morning wood” was not an unfamiliar term—or experience—for Alan. As a male teenager with raging hormones, an amplified libido fed by daily if not hourly injections of sexual material courtesy the TV, the internet, the magazine rack, his cell phone, and pretty much everyone he came into contact with in some form or another, he was being bombarded with sex. With the idea of sex, the dream do sex, the fantasy of sex… everything except the reality of sex.

At least until last night, when reality came up and not only slapped him in the face, it stuck its dick in his mouth and came all over his chest. Reality took the form of a young man named Raul, whose sexual appetites and abilities made Alan’s unformed and unrealized sexual desires look like a baby compared to a platoon of Navy seamen who were on leave after three years at sea.

His bedroom was still dimly lit when his alarm started to chime at 6:30 in the AM. He did as he usually had done, reaching down to grab onto his erection, knowing it would be there to greet him and anxious for his morning wank. He was lying on his back, half-covered by sheets, his upper body bare because he couldn’t manage to button up his pajama tops, and his lower body covered only in a pair of tightie whities because the legs of his pajama bottoms wouldn’t slide over his newly developed thigh muscles.

Half-asleep, Alan swung his arm across his body, aiming for the snooze button. But the force of his reach and the weight of his muscled arm was more powerful than only a day ago, and he managed instead to slam his hand into the little GE clock radio, pulverizing it into plastic junk.

The sound, more than the sensation, shocked him to wakefulness and he leaned up, his abdominals easily swelling into power to lift his huge upper torso off the bed. He leaned on one elbow and yawned broadly, looking at the broken mass of ex-clock radio on his nightstand as he scrubbed his hand through his shock of blonde hair, a messy tumbleweed sticking out in every direction on his head.

The tent pole rising beneath the covers caught his glance and he grinned, croaking out “good morning, beautiful,” to his own cock—ooh, yeah, cocks!—before pushing the sheets off his body and looking down at his uncovered monsters, each throbbing with hard, dense pulses and heavy beats of need.

He licked his lips, thinking of Raul’s cock, and set his slick tongue to the palms of his hands, licking a thick coat of spit across his skin before reaching down and rubbing his hand around and around the plump helmets of his growing pricks. A sudden and intense cascade of sexual bliss erupted down the fat inches and traveled into his muscular form, making him arch his head back and suck in a deep breath, unprepared for the onslaught of erotic pleasure even that gentle touch brought to his new body.

He collapsed back onto the bed, his head sinking into his pillow, circling both monsters in the grip of his spit-slicked right hand and pulled his left from his cocks, moving his fingers to his nipple, circling the dark nub before pinching himself with gentle, but increasing, pressure. The two sensations—the slow worship of his cocks and the urgent torture of his nipple—met somewhere inside him and his whole body stretched and arched, every muscle firming to deep definition across his eight-foot frame. The bed groaned in protest as he shifted his three hundred and thirty pounds of brawn, cockmeat and heavy balls. He smiled and whiffed in the scent of his balls and ass, rising with the growing sexual heat of his body as it woke from its slumbers. He could smell himself, and he could still smell Raul on his skin, and the two scents commingled in his head and made his cocks swell and harden even more, pushing hard to outgrow his ample grip.

He grabbed on harder and started slowly stroking his inches. The tingles grew to sparks along his shafts, and a thick gob of precum erupted from each eye and drooled into his grasp. He moved to the other nipple and a small, deep groan emerged from his throat. He wished that Raul was still lapping at his asshole, and his back arched and his buttocks tightened and pushed him up thinking of the other dude’s tongue and lips feasting on his butt.

“Oh, fuck,” he said quietly. In the otherwise silent room, it still sounded loud, and he was slightly surprised at the resonance and depth of his voice. A man’s voice was emerging from his broad, massive chest. He dug his fingertips into the new growth of soft curls rising between the muscled globes, and then he moved his hand down his torso, over every bulging muscle rising beneath his sensitive flesh, before setting his other hand to his cocks, again, using both of them now because he was that huge. Fuck, the sensation of jerking off two cocks with two hands was intense! He grabbed and squeezed one cock hard with one hand as the other stroked and rubbed and tenderly explored the fat, firm meat rising between his legs.

“You’ll keep growing,” Raul had said. He could hear his musical, calm, masculine voice in his head, as if his lips were whispering the words into his ear. He could feel his fat cock in his ass, the length sliding in and out, pushing him over the edge. “It doesn’t stop.”

Alan licked his lips and opened his eyes and looked down at his huge pricks. They would only get bigger. Everything would. His chest would continue to swell. His arms would bulge with more muscle. His shoulders would spread wider. He’d get taller, broader, more powerful every day. One cock squeezed out another fat flow of honey that coated his fingers in warmth and slicked up his grip, the other pulsed and throbbed and grew rock hard, and he could feel his load building toward release. Would it feel as good? Would it feel as huge? He closed his eyes and stroked his cocks and it felt like his entire powerful body, every muscled inch, was swelling.

He was on the verge, he had a flood of cream in his balls and it wanted out. He breathed slowly, trying to calm his overheated body, trying to prolong the pleasure and sink deeper inside the building orgasm before he blew. He wished he had another hand, a third one, so he could reach beneath his balls and push his fingers inside his ass to pleasure his hole like Raul had done, while he continued stroking both his monstrous, foot-high dicks. His head twisted on his thickly muscled neck and a heat suddenly swelled everywhere and something hot and wet splattered on his chest and his neck and his cheek. He groaned and shoved another thick fountain of white cream from his pricks, and it sprayed across his abs and he felt its wet heat on his nipple and throat.

A third blast, then a fourth, and a fifth. He came over and over. Seven fat pumps. Nine. An even dozen thick squirts from his powerful nozzles before he relaxed onto his sweat-soaked sheets, opening his eyes and looking down at his cum-soaked muscular form. The sticky, delicious cream was winding into rivers in the valleys between his pectoral muscles. It clung like pearls to the silver-gold curls spread across his chest. He moved his hands from his cocks and moved his fingers through the wealth of cum his mammoth tools had delivered all over his body. His smell was strong in the room, now.

He gathered up a wealth of cream into his hands and licked it off his palms. The salty, musky flavor filled his mouth and he swallowed it eagerly, feeling a gentle satisfaction inside, as if his body needed this like food. Sitting up, he gathered as much of his own spunk as he could and sucked it into his mouth, licking it from his fingers and the palms of his large hands until only a sticky, shiny film coated his naked flesh, and he collapsed back again and let the sensations of sexual fulfillment and orgasmic gratification wash over him as his dully throbbing monsters grew limp and splayed along his hip and thigh, their fat inches and swollen helmets growing less urgent in their need for attention.

Alan reached down and rested his hand against them. They were still warm, still slightly firm, and he smiled as he considered their size and power and the fact that two of them now sprouted from between his thickly muscled legs and he felt himself growing horny all over again.

“No,” he whispered to the twins—and to himself, “busy day ahead. Let’s save some for Shep.” He grinned, then smiled, then started to laugh, thinking of his plans for his best friend, and how Craig Shepherd’s eyes were going to fucking bulge out of their sockets when the dude got a load of what Alan looked like now. “Fuck,” he moaned, moving his hand slowly along his thick inches as his cocks grew warmer and began to plump, “I could fucking cum again.”

He looked down his body as his cocks slowly swelled toward erection, his hand moving gently against their firming bodies. One eye was staring back up at him as if asking for permission. He took the drop of precum from the tip and spread it around the red, shiny head. “Let’s take a shower,” he said aloud. “Seems a shame to wash any of this cum off, but without Raul’s tongue available—” He sat up, laughing slightly, and moved his legs off the bed. His cocks, having grown more firm and nearing their ultimate lengths, wobbled and teetered before him as he stood up and stretched his tall, muscled frame. They were calming down, though, and managed to relax to their lengthy limp state as he moved, hanging thickly over his fat ball sack at the end of a treasure trail emerging from the center of his six-packed abdominals.

He was so pliable, now. So unbelievably flexible. He straightened to his full height, his head rising nearly to the ceiling, and performed the magical transformation that Raul had taught him, compacting his huge form into a more manageable six-foot, eight-inch version, but leaving both of his marvelous pricks to hang fat and luscious at the core of his new body. Checking that everything was in place, he moved quietly toward the bedroom door through his darkened house toward the bathroom.

Flicking the light switch, he was momentarily surprised by the sheer mass of the figure in the mirror over the sink staring back at him. He stood there for a moment just drinking in the sight of his own naked body, and how large and good looking he was now. His blue eyes focused on their own reflection before dancing their gaze across the masses of brawn bulging from every inch of his new body. He looked at his fat, dark nipples. The way the chest muscles arched toward his armpits. The fold of the shoulder muscles toward his arms. He straightened one and watched the triceps bulge fatly under his flawless skin. He saw that he needed to shave, but that he kind of liked this look on his face, the way the shadow of whiskers made him seem even more masculine and powerful. He turned back to face himself and grinned, feeling his cocks pulsing again. He was turning himself on, looking at his own body, just standing there, not posing, not flexing, but perfect in its muscular form.

“Shit,” he said softly, “I’d fuck me.” Then he looked at the two massive shanks of meat hanging from his loins and added with a heart-melting, dick-hardening smile, “And I probably can.”

He turned on the shower and as he waited for the hot water to catch up, he struck a few poses in the mirror, practicing for the show he was going to present to Shep later on. He brought up his arms and tensed the biceps into fat balls of power. He watched his shoulders join the show, and he liked how his chest lifted but the plates of raw muscle stayed solid. A strong whiff of his male scent emerged from his damp pits and his cocks throbbed eagerly. He moved his fingers against the moist warmth and gathered a clinging coat of his wet scent on them, lifting it to his nose and inhaling deeply. He liked that smell, now. Rank, musty, the smell of a man. He remembered burying his face in Raul’s armpit and how hot it made him feel, just the other dude’s smell.

He felt the shower’s steam on his back and butt and pulled the curtain aside, stepping into the hot water and feeling instantly awakened. His cocks were apparently enjoying the sensation of the hot water pouring over his naked flesh as well, because they were quickly rising back to erection for the third time that morning. Alan was almost afraid to soap up his rods, knowing that it would be devilishly difficult not to pay them the attention they deserved until he came again. But after stroking one a few times in his slick, soapy grip, he decided that by the time he and Shep met up later, he’d be more than ready to go again, so he went ahead and spent the short amount of time it took to pump another few fountains of cream out of his twins, even attempting to shoot into his own mouth and managing a few times to squirt a thick, salty load down his throat where it caused the inside of his huge body to heat up even warmer than the outside.

After 15 minutes, and even though he felt like he could stand in that flow and cream forever, he turned off the water and ran a towel over his muscles, feeling clean and fresh and ready to face the world.

He dressed quickly. He was due to meet with Shep at the school library before first period, and that meant getting there at 7:30. But if he was going to spring the surprise he had planned, he had to get there before then so he could occupy their usual table and see what his friend would do when faced with the new, improved Alan Carter.

He was a little bit glad that he used to be chunky, because his pants could still fit over his newly muscled legs. Trouble was, he’d also gained eight inches in height, so even if his old Levi’s could make it over his thighs, the term ‘high water’ didn’t even begin to describe them. Plus, his formerly 40-inch waist had been reduced by around six or seven inches, and he didn’t even have a belt that would bring in all that slack. Luckily, Raul told him about the unofficial uniform of the Muscle Club membership, and he had a pair of navy blue sweatpants already. The bulge at his crotch bordered on obscene until he remembered to ‘tuck one up’ as Raul called it, retreating one of his pricks inside his body in some weird and magical fashion, and though the remaining nine-incher was still plenty noticeable, it was certainly less overt than having the twins announcing their presence.

Alan’s upper body presented an even more difficult challenge. Standing over six-and-a-half feet tall, he was absurdly proportioned, with a tight, defined abdomen that narrowed to 34 inches at the waist, but a chest that would test the strength of a 50-inch measuring tape. His arms were 19 or 20 inches, un-flexed, and his neck was nearly as broad as his head. Not to mention shoulders that stretched to a yard wide, or something, and lats that spread like butterfly wings under each arm so the chances of anything in his closet fitting were slim to none.

Instead, he took one of his XL undershirts, ripped off the sleeves and pulled the thing over his head. The crewneck was tight, his chest was stretching the material to threads and the hem rose a couple of inches above the waistband of his sweats, but it managed to cover him up to a degree that meant he wasn’t likely to be sent home for wearing something “unacceptable” for school attire.

Raul had advised him to wear a tanktop, but Alan didn’t have anything like that. Just a slew of white crewneck t-shirts and a bunch of long-sleeved button-down Oxfords. His old uniform. The one he wore not to accentuate his body, but rather to cover it up.

Now he found that he regretted having to wear anything at all. He loved being naked, and showing off everything he had. But that would have to wait. Raul promised that Alan would get some satisfaction at the next Muscle Club meeting, “where no one wears more than a grin,” but at school he’d have to “play it cool,” and cover himself up, even if there was no fucking way that anyone was going to miss the fact that his nine-inch cock was lying fat and firm along his thigh. He tensed his leg muscles into power and pushed his cock against the material, grinning at the way every detail of his manhood could be seen. He tightened his asshole and watched his cock swell and twitch under his pants before allowing his thigh muscles to relax.

This was going to be so cool!

He didn’t wear a jacket on his bike ride to school. His backpack, normally a heavy weight that made him sway and tilt, felt like it was practically empty now, and he had to keep adjusting the straps to fit on his wider back. But he was pedaling like a maniac and his new muscles were working to perfection and he was at the campus in record time, his t-shirt slightly transparent with sweat, showing those dark, plump nipples under the white material clearly. His torso had ripped the shirt along the side seams and his muscular body was emerging in all its glorious detail.

Walking across the campus in the morning, Alan met hardly a soul. Those he did come across all performed double-takes, and he only smiled for them and sometimes nodded or waved. Gestures he never would’ve done before, when his attempts were aimed at hiding from others and avoiding attention. Now he wanted everyone looking at him, and his body, and his cock. It was as if their gaze warmed him, and the attention made him grow bigger.

The library was empty, except for Mrs. Tomlinson, as usual, at the front desk. If she recognized Alan, she didn’t give him her usual ‘good morning!’ greeting. Instead, he watched her face color and her eyes fall along his huge body, resting pointedly at the large bulge between his legs. “Hi,” he said, in his deep voice.

She swallowed and nodded, seemingly unaware that she continued staring at his butt as he made his way to the table where he and Shep spent many an early morning reviewing computer magazines and discussing the latest episode of Lost or last night’s Halo 3 adventures. As he maneuvered his backpack off his shoulders, his t-shirt tore itself wider, almost ripping itself cleanly in half, exposing Alan’s muscled torso. He pretended ignorance, and simply sat his perfect butt down and pulled a gaming magazine from the pack, waiting for his friend to arrive.

Alan’s mood and body may have changed, but when his friend Craig entered the building, and he saw the bowed blonde head in the usual place, looking for all the world like his best friend, he didn’t notice anything unusual at all. There was Alan, his nose in a gaming mag, probably studying up on the latest cheats for Assassin’s Creed. But as he got closer, it was clear that the guy sitting where Alan always sat wasn’t Alan at all, it was one of them big dudes that were popping up all over the school, the muscleheads who always had those odd smiles on their faces and looked at each other like they had some secret. This one was huge, too, so big he was literally ripping his way out of his shirt! But he was sitting at their table! And even reading a gaming magazine—and wasn’t that Alan’s backpack? What, did he beat the guy up and steal his stuff and now he was sitting there and… and—

Craig Shepherd ground his teeth in frustration and a sense of fear and worry washed over him. Where was Alan? Who was this dude? And without thinking, Craig diverted to a different table and sat down behind the muscle guy, pulling out his binder and pens and pencils and wondering what the fuck to do.

Alan looked up toward the door, then twisted his head to glance at the clock on the wall. Where the hell was Shep? He sat back in his chair and brought his arms up, locking his fingers together and stretching forward in his chair, resting his butt at the edge and pushing his longer legs forward. He let out a soft groan of pleasure as the sweat pants dragged along the edge of his prick, now so highly sensitized that even that movement sent shivers of sexual euphoria along its length, and he closed his eyes for a moment to luxuriate in the private bliss.

Craig’s eyes bulged. The muscles on the guy’s arms were fucking huge! So were his shoulders! It even looked like the guy’s back was splitting out of his shirt, almost like he was growing bigger just sitting there. He was stretching, or something, and the seat beneath him creaked loudly in the otherwise silent library.

Alan moved his hand down his body and under the table. His prick was tingling in anticipation of his touch. Fuck, he was so horny! He dug his hand under his pants and simply rested it against his cock. A jolt of sexual energy shocked through him as he touched himself, and he opened his eyes suddenly and sucked in a breath. Realizing where he was, he reluctantly pulled his hand off his growing hard-on and pulled it above the table, feigning an itch on his nose to inhale the scent of his own cock on his fingers, and to lick and suck the remnants of his salty precum from the tips. He enjoyed it as much as his cock did. But it didn’t do anything to tame the raging beast in his pants.

Craig just stared at the dude. Now he was sitting up and his arms went out from his body. As he twisted them, the muscles squirmed like pythons under his skin, and he bent them into a remarkable double-by, turning his head back and forth to admire the peaks of his own brawn. He seemed to dip his head down toward his armpits for some reason, then he relaxed and one of his hands disappeared somewhere under his table while he scrubbed the other one through the messy bedhead of bright yellow-gold hair on his head. It looked like the dude was gonna start beating himself off any minute, and Craig finally remembered that he had his cellphone and he pulled it from his pocket and plugged in Alan’s name. Where the fuck was Alan?

More surprising, Craig could hear Alan’s ringtone somewhere in the library after he dialed, and then the huge blonde dude was reaching down for the backpack and pulling out Alan’s fucking phone! What the fuck?

Alan smiled and flipped open his cell after seeing Craig’s name and image pop up. But when he lifted the phone to his lips and said, “Hello?” there was no one there.

Craig shoved his phone back into his pocket and felt an anger rising inside him. The fucking guy had stolen Alan’s fucking backpack! Jesus, what the fuck did he do to Alan? Where the hell was he?

Alan shrugged, lay the phone on the table, then pushed himself away and stood up, looking toward the door and out the broad windows at the front of the library, looking for his friend.

Craig watched the other dude stand up. Fuck he was tall! And he looked even bigger when he stood up! And it looked like… fuck, the dude had a boner! A fucking huge boner, too! The guy’s fucking dick was sticking out like a tree branch!

Alan looked down and huffed out a quick laugh at the size of his hard-on shoving for release. Fuck, he was horny. He decided he could get in another quick jerk-off in the bathroom and still have plenty left over for Craig, and if he didn’t fucking stroke one out soon, he was going to bust a nut. It was pretty fucking obvious that his hard-on wasn’t going away, and maybe allowing it to blow off some steam would make it easier to see Craig, anyway. He pushed the chair back with his leg and walked toward the men’s room, his prick proceeding before him like an announcement of his intent.

Craig went over to the table and lifted Alan’s backpack onto its surface, unzipping the main compartment and rummaging through the contents. It was all there, all of Alan’s stuff, and there was his phone on the table. What the fuck?

Craig considered confronting the guy. Sure, he was big and all that, but Craig was in the right, here! Craig had justice on his side! Plus, if the guy was in there jerking off, he’d be at a distinct disadvantage immediately! No dude with his pants down is going to put up much of a fight.

Alan had his pants pulled down and his hands on his cock almost before he was through the restroom door. God, it felt so good to stroke his dick, and his balls were so full they ached. He had a massive load ready to blow, and a cock stiffer than a board in his hands. He thought about allowing the other twin out for some air, then reconsidered when he wondered if coming out of one dick felt twice as good. He spat a thick gob into his palms and started slowly stroking his high, hard erection, watching it swell to fullness in record time and start drizzling a thick flow of precum that seemed to grow in abundance as he stroked it, until his cock was practically streaming a heavy flow of warm lube that ran down its shaft like honey.

Alan was in a hurry. He didn’t go into a stall, or aim his dick into a urinal. He was standing in the middle of the bathroom, with his back to the door and his eyes closed, facing the enclosed toilet stall with his cock in his hands as he sank deeply into the ultimate bliss of orgasmic release when suddenly the door behind him opened and he heard a voice asking him, “Where the fuck is Alan and what the fuck have you done with him?”

“Shep?” he asked. God, he was so close. He could feel his cock bulging. His balls were heavy and swollen and he was right on the edge. His body was humming with orgasmic power and ready to explode a fucking tidal wave of hot, creamy cum.

“Yeah, I’m Shep. Craig Shepherd. Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck are you doing with this?” Craig held up Alan’s backpack.

“Hold on a sec, Shep, I’m so close—”

“Fuck that, dude! Where’s Alan? What did you do to him? You’ve got his backpack and his phone, so I know damn well you—”

Alan closed his eyes and his head fell back as he released his load. His cock bulged fatter in his grip. He couldn’t keep his flood inside his balls another second. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he said softly.

From behind the giant, half-naked man, Craig saw a thick pearlescent stream shoot high and full as if the dude was holding a squeeze bottle full of cream and he was squeezing it with all his strength. The fountain of cum shot in a high, perfect arc, easily clearing the top of the toilet stall. A moment later, another fat rope of cum shot forward, splattering thickly against the stall door, but the third managed to gain some altitude and also arched over, disappearing on the other side.

Then, within the small tiled room, the sound of a toilet flushing.

It was after the third stream of cum that they both heard another voice from inside the stall. “What the fuck?” it said loudly. Then, “Holy shit!”

Alan couldn’t stop. Even if this was his third orgasm of the morning, his balls were filled up. He was a cum machine. He had to push it out. So another thick stream arched over the door before he re-aimed his cannon and splattered the next couple of shots at the door itself before turning to his right to release the rest of his pent-up load against the tiled wall, where it sprayed and splattered and dripped into a thick puddle on the floor. After another dozen or more heavy shots of cream, he stood holding his dripping cock as it drizzled warmth over his hand.

There was a deep groan from behind the stall door, and then a ripping sound, and more groaning. A pair of feet that neither of the young teens had noticed earlier moved beneath the door. They wore black high-top sneakers, and the canvas on each shoe was bulging and splitting along the seams. There was a long, low moan that made the hair on the back of Craig’s neck stand on end, and then a creaking sound, like metal bending. More ripping noises, then, and Craig watched the side wall of the toilet stall bend outward and crease.

The voice spoke again, this time sounding deeper. “Oh, fuck,” it said, “so good.” A hand rose to the top edge of the stall’s wall and grabbed the metal. Impossibly, Craig watched the fingers squeeze the wall and crumple the steel like paper. Then more ripping noises, and another moan of obvious feral pleasure.

Alan was pulling his sweats up with one hand as the other one reached forward toward the toilet stall door. “Dude?” he said. “You okay?”

The wall of the toilet stall was pushed outward and a crease turned into a tear in the steel. The fingers atop the wall were pulling downward, crumpling the entire wall of metal. “Ohhhh, fuck,” the voice answered. It was an absurdly deep voice, emitted more like the growl of an animal.

“Shit,” Alan said softly. “Oh, shit.”

Craig was scared. The world was suddenly making much less sense. The broad-backed bodybuilder who’d stolen Alan’s stuff had just cum a gallon of cream, and he looked even bigger than ever. And there was someone in the toilet stall, and something disturbing and slightly exciting was evidently happening to him. He started to move slowly backwards toward the door, reaching back to grab the handle and escape.

The door to the stall had been crumpled and bent and was already halfway open, so Alan stepped forward and pushed at it, allowing the door to slowly open inward. He could see someone’s blue jeans, and they were ripped open in wide tears. Between the shredded edges of denim, he could see muscle swelling into being under tanned flesh. Dark hair was developing all over the skin as it emerged from its cotton cocoon, and the door stopped before revealing anything else of whomever was undergoing a sudden and unexpected muscular and sexual growth spurt. Another hand grabbed the door and it was soon crumpling like the wall, surrendering to the power of the young man developing rapidly from Alan’s Transform-enhanced cum.

“Gotta… gotta fucking cum,” the voice said softly. “Oh, fuck, feels so good.”

“Craig, you better get the fuck out of here,” Alan said.

“What’s happening?” Craig’s hand rested on the door handle. Alan’s backpack was forgotten on the bathroom floor. “What did you do?”

“Just leave, Craig. If you stay here much longer you’re—”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” the voice said. “Yeah, fucking cumming—”

Alan dropped to his knees and leaned into the stall. “Hey,” he growled. “Need some help with that?”

Craig couldn’t see who he was talking to. He heard a grunt, and watched the huge dude lean further into the stall and move his hands inside, reaching forward and dipping his head down. The groans continued, and became more rhythmic, as the muscular dude’s head bobbed up and down and a slick, wet sound emerged from the stall. Shit, the dude was fucking going down on the other dude! Right there in the bathroom stall! He was sucking the dude’s cock and was evidently doing a good job of it, too, since the sounds that the other guy was making were making him sound very satisfied.

Alan didn’t know who the other boy in the stall was. He had dark hair, nearly jet-black, and dark brown eyes. His face was already changing, losing any boyish fat and gaining a man’s angular features and heavy brow. His chin and cheeks were growing dark with a sudden growth of thick whiskers, and his skin was ruddy and flushed.

His body was literally bursting the seams of his clothes. His new body, overwhelmed with muscle and growing taller by the inch with each passing second, was too large even for the small toilet stall, stretching too wide to fit its shoulders inside. Nearly naked already, Alan pushed his mouth onto the other young man’s swelling cock when he saw another prick quickly growing from his loins. The young man’s twin was developing all at once, birthing itself from the dark curls of his pubic push and pushing outward as it quickly developed, the shaft and head blooming like a flower bud’s fruit in some fast-motion science film.

He was groaning and sighing and evidently in the throes of a heavy dose of orgasmic bliss as he grew, his body pushed to sudden maturity by Alan’s supercharged cum in the space of a few heartbeats. In moments, the young man was all but naked, clothed only in the tattered shreds of his jeans and T-shirt, standing eight feet high and four feet wide, packed with muscle and shoving thick ropes of hot cream from each of his monster pricks.

Shep was mesmerized, frightened and surprisingly turned-on by what he was witnessing. The toilet stall’s walls had been torn apart and in the space stood a monstrous muscular freak of jaw-dropping proportions, quickly swelling with cords of brawn stretching across his limbs and torso like snakes, joining and multiplying and pulsing with obvious power. His chest pushed forward and each globe of muscle blossomed into a thick plate, joined at the sternum by a deep crevasse. As he watched, a carpet of dark curls pushed up through the muscular man’s ruddy flesh and crawled across the expanse, growing dense and dark as it spread.

His neck was a collection of tendons, muscle and sinew that spread onto shoulders of absurd width and power. He was growing everywhere, becoming increasingly huge and perfectly proportioned as if being pumped up from the inside by raw muscular power. As he grew, as his muscles developed, the definition of each head and cable grew incredibly deep and his skin suctioned across the landscape of brawn as if he had no fat to speak of at all.

The blonde-headed bodybuilder was eagerly sucking on one cock while the other—the other cock?!? The other cock! It was surging forward and pointing directly at him! He could see it growing by the inch, the veiny shaft swelling into a thick rod, the skin stretching along its length grown shiny as it swelled.

The whole thing was thick and shiny and red. The head plumped and pushed its way from its clinging cowl of foreskin. It expanded like a balloon and turned purple and a sudden fountain of white spat from its eye directly toward where Craig stood dumbfounded. He could hear the musclebound giant coming, he could hear the sound of his load of cream emerge from his second fat prick as it sprayed a fountain of hot white cream at his face.

It was hot on his skin. It splattered on his cheek and neck and against his clothing. There was a fucking lot of it! He held forth his hands against the spray and they were coated in more of the warm, white cream. The scent of it filled the small room. It was a raw, thick, masculine scent. The man’s cock shot its load again and again like a cannon, and Craig found himself dripping with cum after only moments.

At first, he mistook the intense internal heat he felt as embarrassment or an adrenal rush. His whole body suddenly felt very hot, like he had been doused in boiling water. But the sensation of heat and a sharp, throbbing pain he felt in his limbs and his belly and his chest was soon replaced by a wash of pleasure that cascaded through him. The intensity was the same, but the sensation was now one of blissful surrender that quickly swelled into a throbbing sexual ferocity.

God, he felt good. So good. So intensely good. He wanted out of his clothes. He wanted his cock in his hands. He wanted to be stroking his hard, hot, huge prick and shooting the fat load that was suddenly bulging in his balls.

Alan swallowed greedily. It was so satisfying, in every way. He guzzled down the thick, hot shots of pure masculine sexuality and felt them settle inside his belly and fill him with a sense of satisfaction and desire. The feeling of pure release, of awesome sexual and muscular power, resonated through him and he was suddenly growing, too, releasing the bounds he had placed on himself and growing now to his ultimate size and incomparable beauty. He allowed his other prick to swell to engorged beauty and found himself coming all over again, his forth load of the morning, as he simultaneously sucked down the rich cream of the superhuman muscular stranger he had inadvertently created.

He was shooting so hard that he was driving his cream down Alan’s throat. Alan welcomed the incoming flood and opened himself to its inundation, taking in all the other young man had to deliver with ease and hunger. It sounded as if the dude was having, like, two orgasms he was making so much noise.

Then Alan realized there were two other boys in the small room making all those groans of pleasure.

Something was happening to Shep, too. Shep was changing. And Alan wanted to watchHe reluctantly removed his mouth from the flowing fount of hot cream and felt it splash against his naked flesh. Then he rose to his feet, coated in hot cream, turned around and watched his best friend growing.

“Damn,” he said softly. “Damn.”

Craig Shepherd was never a very large boy. Small for his age, and nondescript, he was easily overlooked in class pictures and wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. Not bad looking by any means, but not good looking either. The most average of average boys in an average small town in the middle of nowhere.

He had muddy brown hair and watery blue eyes hidden behind gold-rimmed glasses. He has skin the color of milk and a variety of freckles across the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks. He had a slightly soft body, due entirely to a lack of athletic activity and too many hours bent over a book or playing video games. Nobody would call him fat, but he also wasn’t thin.

Now, Alan watched his best friend changing into a man who looked like Craig, but vastly improved. What the hell was this stuff? How did it do this?

Craig’s eyes were pinched shut and his hands were balled into fists. Beneath his clothes, his entire body seemed to be moving, swelling, bulging and shifting. It looked like snakes were crawling under his clothes for a moment, then everything kind of settled, he opened his eyes, said, “What—?”

Then he was growing.

As the other young man continued his metamorphosis behind him, Alan watched Craig change. It looked, for all intents and purposes, as if he was inflating. His chest poured forth with two mighty pectoral globes. They pushed forward authoritatively until a rip appeared at the middle of the two mountains, and the rip grew as quickly as Craig’s pecs. Then his shoulders grew too wide and the collar tore apart. The sleeves practically exploded as the muscles of his upper arms swelled several inches larger all at once.

Craig was breathing hard, his new mighty chest heaving up and down. He was looking at his friend and his face was a mask of fear. It was obvious that he couldn’t know what was happening, and Alan held up his large hands and said, “It’ll be over soon, Craig! Don’t be scared! It happened to me! And now it’s happening to you!”

“What is? What’s happening?” Already his voice had dropped in register and sounded more manly.

“You’re growing,” he answered.

“Well, fuck, I know that! Why am I growing!”

“It’s—”

“Oh, fuck!” Craig was suddenly grabbing the crotch of his pants and trying desperately to pull it open. “Fuck! Fuck!”

“Oh, yeah,” Alan added, “forgot that part.”

Craig’s bulge was swelling hugely behind his jeans. “What part?!? What the fuck?!?”

“Two dicks,” he said simply, then he allowed his own secondary appendage out and grabbed onto them, wagging them at his friend. “Two dicks,” he repeated, as if that explained everything.

“It fucking hurts!”

“Don’t worry about it, it won’t be long before—” Alan didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence before Craig’s zipper broke and split apart and his underwear swelled forward and ripped under the onslaught of Alan’s new, improved, foot-long, massively thick, heavily-veined and suddenly erect cocks.

They were beauties. They emerged wholly formed and perfect, with fat mushroom caps and incredibly thick shafts.

He was still growing everywhere else. The rest of his pants, the seams of the legs and the ass, were being pulled apart by the sheer mass of the muscular development swelling along his legs. His new butt, two bulbous muscular bubbles, arched outward proudly from behind. His back spread wider and wider, filled in with coils and cables and plates of power. “Fuck,” he said again. He was looking down at his body as it grew. “When’s it going to stop?”

Alan looked up at the ceiling and figured they had about twelve feet of space, and Craig’s head was steadily rising toward it. “Pretty soon, now. But—”

Alan’s handsome, whiskered face looked worried. Craig almost laughed at the familiarity of his friend’s expression on his new, improved, achingly beautiful face. He still wore those wire-framed glasses, but his eyes sparkled like blue gems. His muddy brown hair was growing, too, into a luxurious mane of chestnut that flowed across his impossibly powerful shoulders. He had a strong, sculpted chin and jaw, and Alan instantly equated the term “square-jawed” with his friend’s altered countenance. “But what?”

“But… after the growth comes the fun part.”

“There’s a fun pa… oh…. oh, fuck.”

“Yeah,” he said grinning, “the fun part.”

Craig began to feel an intense sexual bliss that emanated from his loins and erupted along some magical strands that lead through his new, huge body. The tingle of orgasmic pleasure surrounded the inches of his cock’s shafts and licked the helmets with long, slick tongues. His balls began to feel heavy and full, as if they were filling up with mercury or lead and swelling against his thighs. He became acutely aware of his nipples. Shocks of potent carnal ecstasy began to throb from the tip of his huge pectoral globes and travel inward, zeroing in on his groin again and then turning back outward.

Everything suddenly felt very, very good. And he wanted… he wanted to… he needed….

“Fuck, oh fuck me.”

“With pleasure.”

It was the other dude. Alan had all but forgotten about him. He was standing beside him and so large, Alan was startled that he hand’t even noticed him there. They locked eyes for a moment and the other young man smiled. “Hi,” he said, “My name’s Terry.”

“Alan,” Alan said, nodding.

“Do you mind,” Terry asked, “if I fuck your friend?”

Alan didn’t quite know how to answer that question, but Craig did. “Fuck me,” he said, almost pleading. “Fuck me hard.”

“Is there any other way?” Terry asked, before striding around behind Craig’s newly grown frame and bending him over. “A few preliminaries first, if you don’t mind,” he said smiling, his eyes glued to the space between Craig’s muscular buttocks before leaning his face toward Shep’s asshole and licking and slurping with obvious pleasure.

Craig’s eyes went very wide, then a look of contentment washed over his features. “Fuck, that feels amazing,” he said softly. “Oooooooh, fuuuuuuck.”

Apparently, Terry wasn’t entirely new to this sort of thing. Alan remembered Raul’s attentions to his own hole the day before, and wondered who would win a contest in butt munching. He was stroking his twins, one in each hand, watching the action as Terry slicked up Craig’s chute in preparation for what was to come. “You sure you’re ready for this?” he asked his friend. After all, one cock in your butt was one thing, but two of them wielded by someone of Terry’s obvious experience was something else. “Maybe I—”

“Fuck me, motherfucker,” Shep groaned. “Fuck me now.”

Terry’s face reappeared and he wiped his mouth with his forearm. “Seems like he’s ready,” he announced. As he stood up, his two mammoth pricks were fully engaged, standing proudly at attention and easily over a foot high. They were hard and shiny and red and eager, each one drooling a stream of precum that coated their steel-hard lengths in thick coats of honey. The scent of man-sex was thick in the air of the small room, and Alan was on the verge of his own orgasmic release.

Then, with a single deep thrust, Terry entered Craig’s virgin hole and filled him up entirely. “Fuck,” Terry announced, “this is pretty fucking amazing.”

Watching Terry in action behind his best friend, plugging his ass deep and true, his hips thrusting, his abs popping, his muscles flexing and bulging, made Alan wish he was in Craig’s place. Clearly, Terry knew what he was doing, and dearly enjoyed doing it. He had a contented smile of his face as he roughly, forcefully and fully fucked Craig’s ass. He would lick his lips and watch himself fuck Craig, watch his cocks retreat and then disappear inside that tight, warm, welcoming hole. “Fuck yeah, dude,” he said, “fucking sweet ass.”

Craig was groaning and grunting with obvious pleasure. The cascade of his newly grown mane of brown locks hid his expression, but his voice aptly illustrated his emotions. “Fuck,” he would say softly, “so fucking good.”

“Fuck yeah, I’m good,” Terry agreed, whether the statement was about his talents or not. “I’m the fucking king of fucking, boys,” he said. “And now I’ve got two dicks, I can fuck twice as long, twice as hard, and twice as many asses. Life is fucking good, is it not?”

Terry grinned at Alan and then started to laugh as he fucked Craig’s ass. Alan had never seen anything like this, and had never met anyone like Terry. His cockiness, his attitude, and his complete control of the situation was immensely attractive. He wanted him. “Gonna cum,” he announced.

“Do it, bro,” Terry said. “Fucking cum!”

“Oh, sheee-it,” he moaned. “Gonna cum so fucking hard.” His load was an immense flood behind a weak dam. It was a torrent. It was an explosion waiting to happen.

“Let’s do it together, bro,” Terry said. “I’m right on the edge.” He slapped Craig’s muscular ass and asked him, “How ‘bout you, dude? You ready to cum?”

“Yesss,” Craig answered softly. “Gotta fucking explode.”

“Excellent,” Terry announced. “Count of three, then. Ready dudes?” He started fucking Craig even harder and faster, sweat trickling in the deep crevasses between his incredibly muscles.

“One—”

Craig moaned. Alan shut his eyes to hold it back.

“Two—”

The sound of Terry’s hips slamming into Craig’s butt filled the room. The smell of sex was thick and palpable.

“Three!”

An explosion of hot white cream escaped Alan’s twin monsters. A thick stream arched upward and splattered all over Craig’s wide back and Terry’s broad, hairy chest.

A second flood erupted from Alan’s pricks and spread across the floor in a thick pool. He came over and over and over, his first orgasmic release as a member of Muscle Club.

Inside Craig’s butt, Terry unleashed a hot torrent of cum. He pushed himself all the way in, threw back his head, opened his mouth and shouted as he came, filling Craig’s ass to overflowing with his load of cream as he continued to fuck and cum simultaneously, lubing up the chute with cream and cumming as he fucked.

The three boys exploded with cream. It splattered on their bodies and pooled on the floor and splashed against the walls. The room was painted with it, and there was a lot of it. Fat, hard, full streams and ropes of cum erupted from their cocks and they came again and again, their improved bodies creating fountains of cum that delivered intense, insane, deep pulses of orgasmic bliss that swallowed the three of them up.

Then they were laughing and high-fiving as if they had won some odd athletic championship. Terry kissed Craig’s mouth with passion, then did the same to Alan. Neither boy had ever had much experience with any of this, but both returned the kisses with equal passion and hunger. “Fuck,” Terry said, “I’m ready to go again.”

Indeed he was. His huge muscular form, all brawn and dark fur, was throbbing with need and his two pythons, immense creatures of almost frightening proportion, were both hard as rock and pulsing with desire.

Then the bell rang for first period, and reality crashed back down on their little party. Alan and Craig both looked around the boy’s room, a wreck of twisted metal and thick strings and pools of sticky cum, and sighed. “Shep,” Alan said, “hand me my backpack.”

Craig handed over a sad black Nylon bag coated in thick remnants of their combined cum. “Uh, you planning on doing some reading?”

Alan smiled as he extracted his phone and started calling Raul’s number. “Not exactly, but I have a friend I think you both should meet.” He held the small mobile to his ear and said, “Raul? Hey, how they hanging? Right, right, me too. Huh, so listen, do you think you could bring three Muscle Club uniforms to the men’s room in the library?”

“And a mop,” Craig added, looking around.

“Fuck the mop,” Terry said, and he approached Alan and started licking his neck.

“Yeah,” Alan agreed, eyeing Craig’s enormous, sticky chest. “Fuck the mop.”

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