Transform: House calls

by Also Known As   

Newly Transformed young men revel in their new bodies and the undreamt-of pleasures awaiting them.

Steve looked down his muscled body, over the thick plates of his chest and the soft carpet of fur, down the bulging egg carton of his abdominals and the dark treasure trail of curls that lead unerringly to the thick pubic bush that crowned the two massive shanks of meat that seemed to constantly beckon his attention, now that he had been initiated into Muscle Club.

He fucking loved his pricks. He smiled and moved his hands toward them, leaning up from the trunk of the tree and making his abs pop and swell. His cocks were anxious for his touch, growing hard and thick and visibly throbbing as they attained erection, twisting their massive shafts around each other for space, rising from their resting places across his thigh, the veins along each growing thick with blood. The flaring ridged helmets bloomed and shoved free of the thin wealth of foreskin hugging each head, emerging from the cowls moist and glistening. A gleaming droplet of precum appeared in each eye, as he knew it would, because he felt its tingling rise up the fat inches of his cocks and because he needed it to be there. It slickened his grip and made the scent of sex and masculine musk rise in his nostrils.

He moved the back of his hand against his right cock and it arched and swelled. His left was throbbing hard, now, and he rubbed the pad of his thumb against the soft, spongey head, drawing a spider’s thread of pre from the eye and raising the taste of his sex to his lips, wiping it along their full, moist, sensuous softness before his tongue licked it off.

He sighed laid back and closed his eyes, allowing a wealth of precum to stream from each prick. He could feel the warm honey spilling over his hands and he spread it around the heads of each cock and down their long necks. It felt incredible to stroke his huge, fat pricks, and he knew he could start cumming immediately, pumping fat arcs of white cum all over his muscular frame—but he held back, allowing the flood to build, making his balls swell and bulge with seed as he stroked his cocks and sank into the enormous depth of sexual pleasure his body could now deliver in endless supply.

A soft, cool breeze sailed across his naked body, caressing his flesh and raising goose pimples on his arms and legs. He could feel his balls pressing against his thickly muscled thighs as they filled with cum, and the branches of the trees around him rustled gently. His body, all nine feet and 900 pounds of it, shook with a sudden hard shock of orgasmic bliss and he moaned and sighed and gulped air into his lungs. He raised his hand to his face to smell his sex, licking the taste of his gleaming, salty precum off the palm of his hand before re-applying it to one of his rock-hard pricks. It twitched with happiness and spit out a fresh stream of warm honey that drizzled across his tight, hard belly and sank into his skin.

He felt something else, then, another familiar sensation that always started somewhere inside him and then branched out, moving quickly into his arms and legs, and then surrounding his immense chest and wide back before moving unerringly to grip each cock and tingle along his warm, sweet, tight asshole.

He opened his eyes and moved his hand off his cock and bent it at the elbow, tightening one biceps into a fat ball of perfect muscle because he wanted to watch it, he wanted to see it happen again. Because it was going to happen again.

The feeling that encased his whole body grew warm and tight and shining hard, then he watched his muscle grow. All his muscles were growing. This is how it happened to him. He grew not in a slow continual process that was only visible in retrospect, but in sudden, hard, intense spurts that made all his muscles swell another size larger, and made his cocks burst with cream and his whole body was suddenly, miraculously bigger.

He felt it coming. This was going to be a good one! It built and it built, feeling as if his whole body was made of stone, then it broke like a cresting wave and everything got hotter and he watched his bicep swelling even bigger. The fibers of power multiplied and divided. The muscle grew fatter and harder under his skin. He looked away and watched the massive globes on his chest rising and his cocks were growing and his leg muscles spread and bulged.

He started to cum, his cocks erupted with fat gouts of cream, thick hot ropes that splattered across his growing body and sank into the deep separations that defined every amazing muscle swelling with power all over his body. It was the only time he lost control, when he grew. He welcomed this sensation, when his cocks swelled beyond their limits and could not help themselves, they had to pump out the wealth of hot cream in his bulging balls, unable to contain their complete and utter joy that they were getting even bigger—bigger than ever.

Fuck, it was going to be a good day.

Steve, bigger and better, rose to his feet and stretched his larger body’s newly grown muscular development. Everything felt vibrant and active and alive. The air was scented with pine and earth and Steve’s own potent aroma, grown thick and musky along with the rest of him, and it wafted on the breezes like a siren’s call to other Muscle Club members nearby.

It was game time.

Cary awoke with a smile on his lips because someone else’s lips were wrapped around his thick cocks. Two sets of lips. Two someones were blowing his massive meaty twins and gulping down the streams of salty precum he was no doubt pumping. He could feel the tingling surges all along the inches of each fat shank, and he pulled in a deep breath through his nostrils as one of his friendly partners squeezed his right prick hard and sucked down a fat sample of his warm honey.

He moaned, “Fuuuuck,” and bit his lower lip as he began to tease his nipples to plumpness and arched his head on his powerful neck and felt the other dude moaning in response, eagerly sucking his cock. The third dude seemed to sense that he was losing this battle for attention, and redoubled his own efforts, stroking Cary’s left prick and caressing his fat ballsack. Cary rewarded him with a thick spurt of delicious salty spunk, because he could do that. He had pinpoint control and could cum up one cock or the other.

The left mouth pulled off his erection and he heard a familiar voice echo his own soft declaration. “Fuuuuck,” he heard his friend Jeremy say, then his mouth was re-engaged in sucking Cary’s cock and all words fell away.

Cary looked down at the two shaggy heads fully engaged in sucking his pricks. Both of the men had wide, powerful backs swarming with muscular bulges and thick cables of brawn. Looking farther down their bodies, he spied each man’s perfect ass, composed of thick, round, firm mounds of firm ass flesh.

Truth be told, Cary was an ass man. Always had been, even before his evolution. He could appreciate a broad powerful chest, or strong, bulging arms, or an amazing manly prick (or two, or four) but there was something entirely too attractive and absorbing and enormously erotic about the ass.

And these two friends had amazing asses. Firm, round, dimpled, muscular butts. Jeremy, the dark-skinned African god sucking his right cock, had a virtual butt shelf. It jutted out powerfully whether he meant it to or not, but when he wanted to showcase it, it took all of Cary’s self control not to dive inside it and never come back out. To lick his hole, play with it, driving his batshit with pleasure with his fingers or his pricks was a pleasure unlike any other. It made him harder just thinking about it. He squirted a fat gout of cream into Jeremy’s sucking mouth.

And then there was the alabaster perfection of Clark’s amazing ass, with the pale creamy skin and his little pink pucker, so clean and inviting, practically begging to be fucked deep and hard, pushing his inches in as far as they would go and feeling him squirm with delight. He would moan deeply and his gigantic body would shake and he’d start pumping fat streams of cum that would shoot yards as he shouted with ultimate satisfaction, “Fuck me! Fuck that ass! Fuck me, motherfucker! Fuck me!”

Cary grinned and pumped a thick load of salty cum into Clark’s mouth. Just because. Because he could. He’d make more. He was always making more. He could feel it now, all his cum, begging for release, wanting to shoot up each fat prick and scream into the sky, his cocks going off like fireworks.

“Fuck, dudes, this feels so good,” he said, reaching down to rub the tops of their heads like the good dogs they were. “You want a reward?” They both moaned with satisfaction. He could feel their voices reverberate along each of his hard dicks. “You want me to pump up some thick cream for you to swallow?” More moans. They were practically begging for his delicious cum. “Fuck, dudes, all you had to do was ask.”

Sudden floods of hot, energizing cum shot from his cocks into their mouths and down their throats. They swallowed eagerly and fully, welcoming his powerful fountain of muscle-building magic inside their bodies, feeling the instant and overwhelming satisfaction that only another Muscle Club dude could provide for them.

Jeremy’s eyes rolled up into his head and he closed them and sank deeply into the welcoming arms of orgasmic bliss.

“Fuck, dude.”

“No shit.”

“I mean… fuuuuuck—”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“No, I mean… fuuuuuck.”

Derek laughed despite his annoyance. “Are you gonna cum, or what?”

Scott’s eyes were closed and he was playing with his nipples, spending some serious quality time twisting and pinching and rubbing and generally abusing his two fat little nubs as his boyfriend shoved himself deeply into his warm, tight hole with two huge pricks, throbbing with heat and sex and pumping out fat gushes of precum to keep the chute lubed and slick. Derek was pounding Scott’s ass, holding his ankles in his firm grips, pistoning his hips fast and hard and feeling the glistening, tingling hum of orgasmic release along every sensitive millimeter of each 18-inch long erection.

It was a dare. Derek knew better than to accept it, because both of them could now control their bodies with pinpoint accuracy, allowing themselves to perch at the far edge of orgasm without actually achieving the feat, building up massive detonations of hot cream in their bulging balls. The bet was that Derek would cum inside Scott’s ass before he blew his load all over his own belly and chest. Derek looked down at Scott’s dicks, both of them intensely red and covered with fat veins. The skin was stretched so thin it glistened like glass, and each bulbous head was leaking streams of clear honey that drizzled between the teen’s mammoth collection of brawn like tributaries.

The hair on his pecs was glazed with honey, slickened against his skin in gleaming curls. He was coated with precum, it was leaking now so thickly from each fat erection that he was practically cumming precum. His eyes remained closed and a very satisfied smile lit his lips as he sank deeply into to the sensations of having his ass plowed by his boyfriend’s two amazing cocks, and feeling his own pricks throb and sizzle and pump gobs of lube that covered him in a warm glaze and smelled deeply of his unique masculine scent. “Fuuuuuuck—” he whispered.

Derek shook his head and clicked his tongue to the top of his mouth. He fucking loved fucking. Even more than that, he fucking loved fucking Scott. Scott was very audible about his recognition of Derek’s fucking talents, moaning deeply and groaning like a huge animal and mouthing a stream of filth that really got Derek’s engines revving. He was always extremely appreciative as well, and he showed his appreciation, usually, by letting loose with the thickest, fullest, creamiest ropes of cum of anyone Derek ever fucked. Watching his boyfriend cum could make Derek cum. Just watching those fat dicks going off like fountains… the dude could fucking cum!

So this really was a contest, no matter how much Scott pretended it wasn’t. Scott could fucking cum, and now he fucking couldn’t.

They were at The House, attending a House Party.

It was called “The House” though it was anything but.

And it was called a “House Party” because it took place at the House, and there was definitely partying going on.

The House was a collection of abandoned furniture in a field outside town. Everyone at school knew about it, because it was the place to go when there wasn’t anyplace to go. Keggers, raves, victory celebrations, post-prom shenanigans and parties for no reason—other than the mix of youth and alcohol—happened there frequently during the warmer months, and less frequently, if at all, during late fall into early spring.

The furniture came and went. Discarded couches, used up recliners, tables made of crates and boxes, all sitting around in a more or less lose collection of “rooms” made to resemble an actual house. There were dens and bedrooms and living rooms and dining rooms, separated by nothing more than imagination and the stray bush or mound. Getting there involved finding someone to drive, someone to buy the beer, and someone to remember where the vehicles were left when it was time to get back home.

The House had become, over the past few weeks, The Muscle Club’s unofficial official meeting place. The membership was getting too big, both physically and in number, to keep going to Scott’s place. Someone suggested The House, mentioning also that it would allow them to be as rough, loud, dirty and naked as they wanted to be with relatively few interruptions. They were growing both less effected by temperature variables and less likely to want to wear anything more than the barest essentials that could keep them from exposing everything, and it was an easy decision to make The House the place to see and be seen—and to introduce new members to the various Club disciplines, rules, and benefits.

The Club was growing very quickly, now, and had stretched its muscled arms to encompass all the area High Schools. There was at least one member of Muscle Club in attendance at each of the six city schools, and keeping track of everyone was no longer easily done. Scott and Derek were still held up as the co-Presidents and had final say in most things, but Transform was too powerful to keep caged and too tempting to use, particularly since its spread only increased its power and capabilities, so it was simply in everyone’s interest to invite more members into the fold.

Meetings were generally held in darkness, and members often stayed at The House overnight, using it as an excuse for not returning home. Scott would tell his mom he would be at Derek’s, and vice versa, then they’d both end up a The House for unending rounds of glorious, naked, full-on sex with whichever other Muscle Club members happened to show up.

As the power and strength of the members increased, so did their sexual stamina and appetites. Teenaged boys aren’t known for their low sex drives, and when Transform was poured on the flames of those hyped-up libidos, the resulting muscle orgies of duos, triplets, quartets, quintets and sextets of twin-dicked musclebound physically perfected handsome hirsute gods could go on for hours, if not days.

The rules of Muscle Club membership stated specifically that everyone should have sex with everyone else. According to Scott’s investigations, the more sex they had with each other meant the more powerful they were likely to become. Bigger muscles, bigger strength, bigger cocks, bigger balls, bigger everything. Plus, any ‘special changes’ that some new member might manifest could only be shared among the others through sexual contact. So if one dude was suddenly much larger than the others, or stronger, or could magically make other dudes spontaneously cream their jeans just by looking at them, they would report to The House to “share the goods.”

“Jesus, dude,” Derek admonished, “are you ever gonna fucking cum?”

Scott just smiled. His balls were bulging. They ached with his load. He was so close to it that his whole body felt like a tightened guitar string about the break. “You first,” he said, looking up at his boyfriend so diligently fucking his tight, wet, perfect ass.

“Dudes,” a third voice said, somewhat tentatively. The voice was deep and masculine, but it was also soft and polite. Though by now, all veils of self consciousness or privacy had all but disappeared between the Muscle Club members—after all, everyone was naked pretty much all the time, and everyone was horny pretty much all the time, so putting two and two together meant you wound up fucking or being fucked by almost everyone you met—there were still the new initiates who weren’t quite sure if interrupting two engaged members was okay or not.

Derek turned his head and licked his lips, looking at the young man standing behind him. He was gorgeous, with a golden blonde mane crowning his head, hanging down in thick curls and waves, two intensely sky-blue eyes, absurdly full lips and a tiny nose. His face looked almost doll-like, and the contrast of his soft, youthful features mounted on his mammoth, muscle-packed, well-hung body made Derek lose his concentration—and the contest—as he spontaneously started pumping his over-burdened balls free of their load of cream. He came hard and thick and fast inside Scott’s ass, with so much cum that it squirted out and splashed hotly against his loins, dripping down his legs.

“Oops,” the third teen god said, and his youthful face blushed a deep red. “Sorry,” he apologized.

Scott started to laugh before he lost it, too, his twins going off like fireworks, spraying fat high arcs of cream that shot several feet into the air and splattered everywhere, his cannons grown hard and red and started shoving his own load free. “Aw, fuck,” he moaned, feeling at last the overwhelming orgasmic bliss as his body rewarded his efforts once again with a screaming hot blast of sexual gratification.

The third member of the party watched in fascination and growing arousal as the two Muscle Club leaders went off, letting loose with thick ropes of creamy cum that sprayed, splattered, pooled and splashed everywhere. His body practically glowed in the faint evening light, his pale skin was hairless and smooth, wrapped across his muscles in pink perfection, with very large nipples perched on the bottom of each heavy pectoral mound. He had very wide shoulders and an absurdly narrow waist, but then a hint of his broad, round ass flared widely from behind. His twin pricks were particularly thick, hanging over a set of huge balls that dangled heavily. Then his legs repeated the width of his shoulders, giving him an hourglass silhouette in the darkness.

The two came until they had emptied their balls, and the surrounding area was coated in gleaming strings and pearlescent droplets of cum. The scent of mansex was strong in the air, and they were both laughing and deeply satisfied when it was over. “Holy fuck, that was intense.”

“No shit, bro. You were amazing!”

Scott kissed Derek deeply and said, “I learn from the best.” Then they both turned, arms laid across each others’ mountainous shoulders and looked at the still blushing young man who had inadvertently ended their competition. “Hi,” Scott said. “You look fuckable.”

He blushed again, and swallowed hard. “I was told to come and get you guys,” he said. “To come see something.”

Derek said, “I like what I’m seeing already. What’s your name?”

“Henry. Hank. Everyone calls me Hank.” He offered his hand, leaning toward the other two. He had a bit of a southern drawl to his voice that neither of the other boys recognized.

Scott just looked at the offered hand and frowned. “That’s not exactly the way we do things in Muscle Club, Hank. C’mere, lemme show you how a true introduction is done.”

Hank dropped his hand sheepishly and took a couple of steps toward the other two. Scott huffed out a soft laugh at his reticence and wondered how the hell he’d ever managed to even get into the Club, but after looking at his face again that question was erased. He was a truly gorgeous young man, almost ethereal in his beauty, and his shyness was a huge turn-on.

Scott unhooked himself from Derek’s embrace and took Hank’s beautiful face into his hands and brought their lips together, giving Hank a deep, lengthy, passionate kiss. He pushed his tongue between the other young man’s full, soft lips and really went to town, showing exactly how a Muscle Club man is welcomed.

Hank felt his knees go weak and his skin heat up and his cocks start to throb and swell. It was one hell of a kiss, maybe the best one of his young life, and he found himself kissing back with the same passion and abandon of any pretense or self consciousness, falling into the kiss with everything he had.

Derek looked on with a big smile on his handsome face. His boyfriend really did know how to kiss, and he got off on watching another man’s reaction to it. It was clear that Hank was having a very good time. Even without the benefit of the man’s nudity, there would be no way to easily hide the quickly swelling hard-ons rising between his legs. “Okay, dudes,” he said at last, after allowing the kiss to go on for a bit longer than was totally comfortable for him, “I think that’s enough welcoming for now.”

The two separated and Scott whispered, “Fuck, the dude can kiss.”

Hank bit his lower lip and blushed all over again, saying softly, “Thanks,” before actually attempting to hide his two massive erections with his carefully placed hands.

Derek simply dropped to his knees and said, “Now lemme show you how a man does it,” and he brushed Hank’s hands away and started sucking, kissing, licking and generally worshipping Hank’s two fat, juicy cocks, both streaming precum in abundance and throbbing with every beat of his heart. Hank sucked in a breath and his hands balled into fists as Derek attempted to top his boyfriend’s kissing talents with his own area of expertise—the double blowjob.

It had to be said that Derek loved cock. The more the better. And when he found a new set of equipment to worship, he did not hold back.

Hank was one of the newest Muscle Club initiates, and had not had much opportunity to explore the capacities and intense gratification his upgraded body could now deliver. Suffice it to say that Derek, being one of the first and in fact the founder of Muscle Club, had no such limitations to his experiences and talents, and putting the two men together was like throwing gasoline on a fire.

Hank’s cocks swelled to enormity at a breathtaking pace. They inflated and hardened and lengthened with sudden, almost miraculous speed, swelling fat and long and shiny with plump helmets that turned red and then redder, still. He did not wish to hold anything back, and he started to cum thick fountains almost immediately, shoving ropes of hot cream up both ample pricks.

He was an unfiltered Muscle Club dude, and he had no goals of competition or contests to win. His body reacted with sudden and overwhelming naturalness to the intense pleasure that Derek’s mouth and hands were delivering. He came and he came, pumping thick showers of rich, delicious cum that joined the wealth of the founders’ recent floods.

He moaned and groaned and sucked in air and whimpered and made his pleasure known both audibly and physically, continually sending up rivers of cream. He was fucking enjoying Derek’s attentions, and Derek repaid his reactions with renewed vigor. Hank tasted good. His cream was rich and delicious and copious, and Derek gulped it down with delight.

When it seemed like this was going to go on forever, Scott reached forward and grasped Derek’s cum slickened shoulder and said, “That’s enough, sport. You’re gonna drain him dry and then where will I be when it’s my turn?”

“It’s my—”

Scott looked up as Hank spoke. “What?”

Hank gritted his teeth and sucked in a deep breath and said, “It’s my talent. It’s what happens. I can keep cumming for… for as long… as long as… oh, shiiiit, that feels amazing.”

Derek had pushed his fingers up Hank’s warm, moist hole and he was cumming with renewed power. It seemed to be true, this was a dude who could cum forever. His balls were swollen with cream, even now. Each cock was pushing fat ropes of cum from its eye and it oozed down the shafts and shot into the air like milky rockets. “Fuck,” Scott said, impressed. “That must be nice.”

Derek took his mouth of one of Hank’s spouting supercocks and said, “As talents go, it’s one of the best.” He looked up as his face was being coated in thick, warm flows of cum and said, wetly, “But can you stop it, too?”

Hank blew out two quick breaths and said, “Yeah,” and then he did. Both the exploding cocks ceased their unending fountains as the wealth of his cream was absorbed into Derek’s body through his skin, warming and energizing his transformed body with its innate properties. “Whoa,” Hank said softly, as his pricks calmed and softened and he regained his senses from his extended and powerful orgasmic delivery.

Derek rose to his feet and kissed Hank’s mouth softly. “I’m very, very happy to meet you, Hank.”

Scott shook his head at the miracles that kept happening and then said, “Likewise.” Then he arched an eyebrow and asked, “You mentioned you had something else to show us?”

“What? Oh. Oh, yeah! I’m supposed to bring you over to LL?”

“L2. The Latin Lover. Otherwise known as Raul.”

“Yeah. So, he has something he wants to show you.”

“Well, if it’s only half as beautiful and amazing as you, Hank, I can’t wait. Lead on!”

Hank was also gifted with one of the finest asses on the planet, and both Scott and Derek enjoyed their walk behind him immensely as they made their way through the House to where Hank was leading them.

“Cary’s gonna like him,” Scott observed, knowing their friend’s admiration for a great butt.

“Who isn’t?” Derek wondered, thinking back to the cum shower the young man had managed to so easily deliver. “Hey, Hank, who initiated you?”

The golden-haired god turned his head slightly and smiled. “Do you know Carl?”

“Big guy? Kind of muscular?”

Derek laughed. “Fuzzy butt?”

Hank laughed, too. “Yeah, him and his friend kind of… did it.”

“His friend?”

Hank nodded as he continued walking. “Yeah, Billy? Cool guy? Kinda quiet?”

Scott and Derek looked at each other and Scott said, “You’re not from our school, are you, Hank?”

“Nope. I don’t even live here. I’m in visiting for the weekend. We’re from Texas.”

“That explains it,” Derek added.

“Explains what?” Hank asked.

“Nothing. Never mind. You’re pretty lucky, Hank. Billy doesn’t initiate many dudes.”

“What was it like?”

“Scott means what was he like. Billy.”

Hank sighed and a note reached into his deep voice, one of longing and appreciation. “He’s very… nice.”

“You are a master of understatement, Hank. I have a feeling we’re going to become very good friends.”

“That’s funny,” he answered, “That’s exactly what Raul said.”

“That didn’t happen to be while you were demonstrating your special talent, was it?”

“My special talent?”

“The constantly cumming thing.”

“Well… I’m not constantly cumming. Like, I’m not cumming right now.”

“But you could be.”

“Yeah, I could be.”

“And you were initiated by Carl and Billy.” Hank nodded his head. Derek looked at Scott and said, “Don’t you find that interesting?”

Scott looked down at Hank’s firm ass and said, “Very.”

“No, not that.” He glanced down and found Hank’s muscular butt extremely enticing. “Well, yeah, that. too. But I mean Billy. Again.”

“What do you mean?” Scott was only half-listening. Apparently he found the sight of the blond initiate’s perfect ass particularly distracting.

“Well, Billy was the one who gave us these,” he said, lifting his secondary prodigious cock, “and now Hank spends some quality time with him and walks away with a cum cannon.”

“Two cum cannons, if you want to be accurate,” Scott corrected. “And one hell of a butt.”

“Yeah, but… don’t you find that—?”

Scott was nodding. “Very interesting.” He noted that they were no longer in The House, and were wandering far afield, through the moonless dark night and across a wide, open field toward a group of about a half-dozen towering muscular figures all huddled around another figure, who looked quite a bit shorter. “Hey, Hank, what’s going on?”

The young man’s muscled shoulders rose in a shrug. “Not sure. I guess it’s something special.”

“Like you?”

They could practically hear him blushing. “Shut up,” he said quietly.

“Fuck, he’s cute.”

As they approached, Derek caught sight of something that made him doubt his senses for a moment, but when he turned to ask Scott if he was seeing the same thing, he noticed the look on his boyfriend’s face and didn’t have to ask.

On the far side of the circle, facing them, was Hank. Or someone who looked exactly like Hank. Same bright crown of blonde hair, same absurdly wide shoulders and narrow hips, same fat shanks of cock and same huge low-hangers. He was a mirror image. “The fuck?”

Hank turned slightly and asked, “What?”

“Who’s that?”

Hank looked back, then smiled and said, “Oh, yeah. Probably should’ve mentioned that. That’s Harold. Or Harry. We’re twins.”

“Twin Muscle Club initiates?”

Hank’s shaggy head nodded. “Exact twins. We even grew at the same pace and turned out exactly the same after… everything.” He waved at his brother and added, “Carl did him while Billy did me, then we switched. It was fun!”

“Fuck me,” Scott said, impressed. Then he noticed that Raul was standing in the center of the circle and he was motioning them over. “Hey, L2. How they hangin’?”

“Perfectly, as usual.” They embraced and kissed each other in greeting, then Raul said, “What took you dudes so long?”

“We were… distracted.” Derek hiked his thumb in Hank’s direction as he explained, and Raul smiled in understanding.

“No shit. So you haven’t even had the opportunity to be ‘distracted’ by Hank and Harry together, yet?” Scott shook his head and Raul rolled his eyes, adding, “Fucking ridiculous sex, bro. It’s like… I can’t even describe what it’s like.”

“I can imagine,” Derek said, sizing up the twins.

“No, bro, you really can’t.”

“Hank said you wanted to show us something?”

“Yeah, definitely. Dudes, this is Esteban. Esteban this is Scott and Derek.”

The two looked at the young man Raul indicated, noting for the first time that every member of the circle of muscle freaks was a new initiate. Muscle Club was growing by leaps and bounds, and here were six more members to have fun with. “Hi, Esteban,” Scott said warmly.

“Hey, dude,” Derek greeted, “welcome to the Club.”

“Thanks,” he answered, “call me Steve.” Esteban—Steve—was evidently of Latin decent, with latte-colored skin and dark brown eyes surrounded by thick, long lashes. Elegantly carved eyebrows arched above those dark orbs, and he had soft curls of equally dark hair arranged in a messy nest on his head. A light dusting of hair sprouted across his broad chest, and his tight belly was almost smooth, with only a hint of the usual eight-pack of abdominals. Each of his two pricks curved out from his body like elephant’s trunks, dangling several inches long and heavy, capped by widely flaring helmets each cowled in drooping uncut foreskins. He had a ready smile filled with bright white teeth, and a clean-shaven face that emphasized the grace and sculpted beauty of his jawline.

Derek and Scott both kissed him in welcome, though not as emphatically as Hank had been welcomed, and then they looked at Raul again and asked, “What did you want us to see?”

Raul smiled and winked. “Show ‘em, Steve.”

“With pleasure,” he answered. Then he tilted his head slightly and started to shrink.

Scott whooped and clapped his hands, saying, “About fucking time!”

“Dude,” Derek said, “what the fuck?”

Scott watched Steve’s form shrink from its nine-foot height down to six feet and he explained, “It’s something else a truman could do but we couldn’t. But now we can!”

“Yeah, but… why?”

Scott didn’t know if Derek was joking or not, but he understood the sentiment. Being nine feet tall was amazing, but it was also rather inconvenient and sometimes downright frustrating. The trumans could easily overcome the dimensional challenges of owning bodies even much larger than Muscle Club members by physically shrinking themselves down. No one knew exactly how they did it, but it was assumed that it was part of the military’s plan for the super soldiers that they hoped they were creating. After all, how could one hope to infiltrate the enemy if one were nine—or more—feet tall?

“What does it feel like?”

Steve shrugged, looking like an exact smaller copy of himself. “Feels weird. But you get used to it. And then you do this,” he added, looking down at his groin as one of his cocks seemingly retracted, shrinking in size until it seemed to disappear altogether, “and you think, whoa, I hope that comes back!” He laughed at the look on Scott and Derek’s faces before his secondary prick unfurled again, returning to its rightful place next to its twin brother. “But, hey, should make clothes shopping a hell of a lot easier.”

“Among other things,” Scott observed. He’d been waiting for this to happen for weeks, now. It would make things so much easier for Muscle Club members if they weren’t constantly ripping out of their clothing or making people scared just by entering a room. Nine-foot tall muscle monsters weren’t exactly easy to ignore, but six-foot tall teenaged bodybuilders—which is what Steve looked like now, with sleek brawn lining his limbs and bulging power pushing outward from his chest and shoulders. He was still an awesome specimen of masculine perfection, but at least he could wear jeans and a T-shirt now.

Derek looked askance. “He can get bigger again, right?”

“Of course,” Steve answered, and like the proverbial genie in a bottle, his form was suddenly expanding outward in every direction. It was like he was being initiated all over again, his muscles expanding and his body getting taller and wider to easily accommodate all that thick powerful brawn. “Voila,” he said, standing again as a giant among giants. “Feels weird, like I said. And when you get compacted or whatever, you feel this, like, constant pressure or tension or something, which I guess is probably natural because you’re like, all pressed in. But it’s not uncomfortable.”

“How long can you hold it?”

Steve shrugged, looking at Raul, who said, “He just discovered he could do it. He was initiated yesterday and came to The House with me and Shawn.” Then he added, with more that a touch of pride, “I was the one who initiated him.”

“Can you do it, too?”

Raul nodded. “But I thought he should have the honors, since he was the one who… whatever. Triggered it.”

Scott looked at Steve, who was already wagging his prodigious and thickening pricks at him and Derek. “Want some?” he asked playfully. Both heads of his cocks were pushing forward from the wealth of their foreskins, already drooling precum and swelling fatter. He owned massive dicks with shafts that were swelling beyond the capacity of his hands as they grew toward erection, and Scott and Derek practically dove toward them, falling to their knees and wrapping their mouths around each thick cock, sucking with eager hunger for their rewards.

Steve pulled in a slow, deep breath as the Muscle Club leaders’ warm, wet mouths surrounded his highly sensitive cock heads. His balls were full of rich, salty cum and he started shooting almost immediately, unable and unwilling to forestall his orgasmic release for another moment. He pumped his seed inside the two musclebound giants and felt his whole body shake and shudder with sexual bliss as Transform once again rewarded his efforts with another mind-blowing orgasmic rush.

Scott and Derek noisily gulped and slurped and sucked down the thick, warm blasts of cream that Steve delivered, feeling their immense bodies growing warmer and more powerful as they received the one true form of sustenance that truly satisfied them, now. Another man’s cream, and this one tinged with the ability to manage the size of their bodies and the appearance of their cocks with effortless ease.

Scott milked Steve’s left prick while his boyfriend sucked the right one. Steve moaned with pleasure as he pumped out thick streams of cum as the others watched and found themselves growing increasingly horny. Hank and Harry stood next to each other, each one capable of sending boundless fountains of hot cream from their balls, looking like glowing gods in the evening light. Raul was already stroking The Beasts and feeling the familiar, deep throb of sexual satisfaction building inside him. Next to him were two more Muscle Club initiates, Charles and Darren, who were also jerking their massive twins to erection.

“Well, my friends,” Raul stated calmly, spreading his hands apart and raising his arms as his beasts were quickly rising, growing broad and long and proud as they swelled, drooling threads of warm honey and scenting the air with Raul’s manly scent, “let’s fuck.”

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