The spark

by BRK   

A chance encounter in the subway leads to a connection so powerful their bodies have to expand to match it.

The subway mezzanine bustled around him as Frank wove his way impatiently toward the turnstiles and out, out, out. He needed to be free of the subway, and people, and basically all human interaction. It had been one of those days when even the nicest customers had invalid returns and faulty chip cards; and the nice ones were the rarity. If he’d had to smile tightly and say “I am the manager” one more time, he’d probably have ended up snatching up one of those high-end, top-selling Boy Dogs Forever! plushies everyone was clamoring for and squeezing it into a fucking golf ball.

He was wending through the exiting crowd, homing in on the nearest of the seven turnstiles, when he noticed a tall emo kid was coming through the one next to his and there was no one behind them. Paydirt! He shifted his angle of attack toward the about-to-clear egress, brushing past the teenager (earning him a dark look, which he ignored), and shoved the bar triumphantly.

Clunk.

The cylindrical steel boom that had turned so easily and solicitously in the other direction for the incoming rider now refused to move, butting against some internal barrier and stopping him cold. He had a bare second to process this before the metal barrier was abruptly jammed into his breadbasket with considerable force. Some ape had plowed right into his ass, like a driver texting on his phone who hasn’t noticed the cars ahead of him stopped for the red light and ends up bulldozing into the back of someone’s Tesla at thirty miles an hour.

Frank turned and growled over his shoulder, “What the hell is wrong with… you…”

He trailed off as he registered more fully the rangy, dark-haired dreamboat who’d banged his bumper. It wasn’t that he was tall and handsome exactly; at 5-foot-6 and built like a fire hydrant Frank was used to people being taller than he was, and he already knew all too well how many guys were good-looking until they opened their mouths. The man was rather striking, though, maybe 6-foot-1 and age-wise looking just shy of Frank’s thirty-one, with perfect cheekbones and a classically square jaw dusted with manly end-of-day stubble. The chiseled features were present and accounted for, as were dark, brooding brows over eyes so vivid and blue seemed downright anomalous in the dingy, colorless train station.

The shoulders spreading his crisp white dress shirt were eye-catching, too, as was the thick upper body behind his narrow, slightly loosened black tie, which seemed to owe its girth as much to the natural breadth of his ribcage and torso as to the firm, square pecs he had pressing against the cotton broadcloth. His phone was indeed in his hand—probably scrolling work emails before finding his journey comically interrupted—and his expression of surprise was quickly giving way to chagrin, and then something else. The man’s crotch was still pressed very firmly into Frank’s ass, as though he’d forgotten it was there. Surrounded by all the motion of the passengers coming and going he seemed oddly still. It was as though time had slowed, but only for them.

Frank stared, and the other man stared back. Frank had always scoffed at the idea someone might feel a connection to someone he just met, but here it was. He and this man had something. He wanted to dismiss the idea. It was just his gonads reacting to a hot guy in his intimate personal space. The only “connection” he was feeling was hunk junk pressing into his crack, like he’d felt a hundred times before at the clubs (on one side of the equation or another). But he knew better. He could feel the spark, like a tiny stray bright-orange flame somewhere deep in his heart, and when he looked into this stranger’s eyes he could sense it there, too, with him. Both sparks felt real to him, their hearts and bodies linked together. Everything was possible. He felt strong, like blood was rushing through his pecs and arms and quads giving him a pump from out of nowhere. His pulse quickened, and his cock swelled a little with excitement, urging Frank to explore this bond without delay.

The square-jawed hunk blinked and (to Frank’s alarm) tried to step back; but there was a press of people behind them and there was nowhere for him to go, and he remained firmly pressed against Frank’s hard, rounded glutes.

“Sorry,” the man said. He glanced at the phone he was still holding up and guiltily stowed it in a back pocket. “Sorry,” he repeated, though this time his lips quirked on one side. His equipment felt warm and big against Frank’s ass.

Frank held eye contact and smiled. “It’s all right,” he said. “I, uh—” He glanced down at their compressed lower regions, then back up. “—don’t mind.” Hell, with the guy pushing into him and Frank bent over the turnstile like this, his hands gripping the sturdy, unmoving bar, he was having a tough time holding back images of the two of them in the same position but without clothes, a lot of lube, and the station all to themselves like they were the last two fuckers in the world.

“Maybe we should… try again?” the stranger suggested. His baritone voice was easy to hear over the noisy hubbub of the station. He nodded toward the barrier. “Sometimes when they’re stuck you just have to pull back a little, and…”

“Shove?” Frank put in, smirking shamelessly.

A bashful smile spread across the stranger’s face. “Uh, yeah.” Was that a blush? Fuck, he was adorable.

Frank straightened very deliberately, so that his shoulders pressed against the other man’s chest, and backed his ass a little further into the man’s crotch to give himself room, only just holding himself back from wiggling it. He didn’t have to, anyway, not with this guy, this stranger he was already feeling a stronger and more exuberant connection with than anyone he’d ever fucked. Thus having prepared, he pulled the bar backward an inch, feeling a reassuring clank somewhere in the machinery, then pushed. The bar turned like a vindication, and he went through the turnstile at last without a hitch, the stranger following close behind.

Frank moved through the small crowd until he was by the nearest wall and turned, knowing he’d see the other man right there. Sure enough there he was, smiling down at him, looking tall, sweet, and strong.

“Do you… live near here?” the other man hazarded. Frank was certain this buttoned-up, tie-wearing hunk would never have so bluntly propositioned a man he knew and liked, much less a subway rando he’d just mashed his wang into; but there was a clear urgency in those cerulean eyes. He feels it too, Frank thought excitedly. It was his turn to blush, or maybe it was just the heat of his blood warming every inch of his skin, leaving his chest hair itchy and with pricks of sweat in his armpits. The scintillation filtering through him seemed to strengthen, blending his own strength with his younger bond-mate’s.

“I sure do,” he said, managing to speak the words with a straight face and a minimum of smarm. He offered a hand. “Frank.”

The other man smiled sheepishly, as though reminding himself it had been rude to flirt with the smaller man without at least exchanging proper introductions. He took the hand and shook it. “Nick.”

They let go reluctantly. The lack of physical connection felt wrong to Frank, but he sucked it up and they headed for the stairs and the world beyond, an energy they’d never felt before buzzing and mixing between them.

By the time they got off the elevator on the tenth floor of Frank’s entirely mundane co-op building and crossed to his door their hands had somehow found each other. Frank wasn’t even sure when it happened, just that it fit with the new shape of the world. Meeting Nick had caused some sort of shift in the unknown mechanisms of reality. Their spirits wrapped around each other, charging them both with unending flows of incredible energy. He could sense how full they both were of gathering, building, intermingling life force. His jawline itched, his feet bounced as he walked, and his clothes felt tight, especially across his chest and shoulders, and also in his groin and across his ass. He took this as a sign that he needed to be naked, and in his heart and balls he knew that Nick was feeling the exact same thing.

“Here we are,” he said as they got to his door. It felt like a good sign that it was his right hand that was engaged holding hands with Nick—his keys were in his left pocket. He wouldn’t have to let go. As he got them out and slid in the key he was already thinking ahead, needing this not to be their only encounter. “You live around here, too?” he asked, glancing up at Nick. He was pulling at his tie with his free hand like it was strangling him. The weak lighting of the co-op hallway seemed to exaggerate their height difference slightly, and Frank imagined using all this shared energy he was feeling to catch up to him. If only, he thought.

“Yeah,” Nick said, unknotting the tie and pulling it off his neck with obvious relief, “but I wasn’t going to spring my roommate on you so soon.”

Frank’s brows lifted as Nick pocketed the tie in his criminally snug dress slacks. “Roommate?” he repeated. From his appearance, age, and attire, he wouldn’t have expected Nick to need an apartment share. Or was it the fuck-around-bestie kind of roomie? Frank considered what that might mean for his future with Nick uneasily.

The power of Nick’s crooked smile as he undid the top buttons on his straining dress shirt easily allayed Frank’s nascent concerns, while simultaneously setting his heart to fluttering. “My cat takes some getting used to,” Nick explained in his warm baritone. “She’s… bossy.”

“Yeah?” Without looking, he shoved the key in the rest of the way and turned the lock. “You like bossy?” he asked, as casually as he could manage. Fuck, my dick is going to tear through these damn wool trousers in a minute.

Nick’s cheeks pinked, but he managed a saucy smile anyway. “Tell me what you want, and you’ll find out.”

Frank nodded, then turned the knob and, in a single move, he thrust the heavy door open, pulled Nick into the apartment, and slammed the door shut, shoving Nick up against the door as he did so. In the blink of an eye their mouths were attacking each other, kissing feverishly as they kicked their shoes aside and tore at the other’s buttons and zips. The kissing was electric, more intense than Frank was used to and affecting him through his entire being, as though with the escalation to such direct and intimate contact their bodies were finally able to literally flood energy into each other, smashing another of the layers between them and their ultimate, innate forms. Frank had never felt more alive, or more in need of a shared, mind-melting, shooting-their-cum-a-mile-high orgasm, though even as he thought this there was a niggling sense that something lay beyond even that release, something that would truly free them both.

Either way, nakedness and lovemaking could not happen soon enough. Frank was wearing a company polo shirt with Gambrill & Sons Games & Pastimes stitched over the left breast. These were well-made and he normally he found them very comfy, but right now he needed it off him in the worst way, so he was very glad when his lover interrupted Frank’s speed-unbuttoning of Nick’s shirt and waistband to haul the polo off him. It was a struggle for a half a moment, the shirt seeming not to want to free itself of his upper arms for some reason, but Nick’s height gave him superior leverage and it was off in a trice. At the same time, Frank shoved his own trousers down, letting them drop to his ankles as they resumed making out, the kiss barely broken.

They had more trouble with Nick’s dress shirt: the buttons weren’t much of a problem, but the shirt just wouldn’t slide off his shoulders like they always did in movies—though it did expose the artful whorls of fine, dark chest hair that decorated his solid pecs and slithered down between his abs. Finally, they had to break the kiss, and Frank turned him roughly and pushed the larger man face-first into the door while Nick yanked the shirt off him two-handed, the white broadcloth fighting the whole way.

Their new configuration seemed promising, and after heedlessly tossing Nick’s freed shirt into his spartan apartment after his own, Frank splayed his palm against the middle of Nick’s rippling back, keeping him in place, while he had a go at dramatically dragging Nick’s pants and underwear off that sweet hard ass in one go. Unfortunately for his patience, the snug, slightly stretchy trousers were tighter than they had seemed at first meeting, and it took some effort to get the bag man’s trousers and boxer-briefs together past Nick’s lusciously hair-dusted swimmer-thick thighs. Frank made a virtue of necessity, kissing the side of Nick’s glutes as he worked the pants lower, sinking to his knees behind the larger man. Nick hummed deeply in appreciation. The big man’s tanned skin felt arousingly warm under his hands and lips, as though the cells were vibrating with the intensity of their connection just like Frank’s. A few long seconds, and Nick’s trousers and Fruit of the Looms were freed and pooling around his ankles. The big man stepped out of them and kicked them away, leaving him standing before Frank, gloriously naked except for a pair of gray half-calf argyle dress socks.

Out of patience, and not wanting to take the time to pry his own shrunken underwear past his legs and ass—it was like he had swollen in his own skin somehow—Frank reached down, grabbed his hunter-green butt-huggers, and yanked the front opening wide. The force of his pull was more than he intended and the fabric ripped a little, but the forcible ventilation gave him the room he needed to wrench free his leaky, crowbar-hard cock, and he hauled it out so it could jut out from him, thick and proud and insolent. Feeling hazy in his lust, Frank took a moment to stare at its size and beauty. It had always seemed wide and blunt, the perfect handful, but now in this carnal state it looked massive and commanding, the true instigator of raw, endless pleasure.

The air around them seemed thick and warm with sexual potency, egging them on. He looked up and up Nick’s beautiful body, mentally charting his course, then he started sliding his stockier form up Nick’s back until he was pressing fully against him, easing his hard tool between the lower reaches of Nick’s ass. Their difference in height meant only a tantalizing few inches of Frank’s girthy length nosed between Nick’s cheeks by the time he was at his full stretch and feeling up every warm, muscular inch of Nick’s sculpted, delicious body. Nick moaned at the intrusion of Nick’s fat cock between his glutes and instinctively bent at the knees, slowly letting Frank’s cock slide deeper into his hot crack.

Frank guided his hands over every inch of Nick he could reach. Licking the vertebrae of the larger man’s spine between the shoulder blades, he pressed in and asked, “You want me to fuck you?”, murmuring against the heated flesh as though he were speaking directly to Nick’s pounding heart.

“Yes,” Nick answered immediately, his voice breathy. “I want… all the things. Everything with you.”

“Fuck yeah,” Frank growled. He was fully in agreement with this sentiment. He reached around and grabbed Nick’s cock, sort of as a reward, and was shocked at the size of his hard, pulsing tool filling his fist and then some. “Christ, how big are you?” he asked with a laugh, his lips still against the skin over Nick’s spine.

Nick was huffing at the intense pleasure. “It’s not that big,” Nick slurred, sounding not completely coherent as Frank stroked Nick’s cock and rode his crack. “Maybe… eight inches…?” he panted.

This is more than eight inches, Frank thought. Not that he was complaining. “Sure is a messy fucker,” he muttered against Nick’s back. He made Nick groan loudly against the door as he swirled his hand around the head, his fingers barely meeting around the shaft even right under the glans, then stole some of the copious precum and brought it around to slather on his similarly productive appendage.

Nick moaned even louder and started shoving himself down on Frank’s wide, immovable, natural-lube-smeared cock. His tight hole found Frank’s tool almost instantly, as if their bodies were aligned and meant to slot together, and somehow the angle was perfect for them to slide into total communion, Frank reaching the furthest depths of Nick’s ass with the third deep, knee-bending thrust. Frank wouldn’t have even tried such a ridiculous position with a man that much taller than him, but this wasn’t just a man—this was Nick. Their bodies meshed together as easily as their souls, and they each had so much strength and power coursing through them that it seemed like it was nothing for his machine-strong legs to keep his exact position. He was like an immovable spike for Nick to shove himself down on, only pistoning up occasionally into the depths of Nick’s extremely tight ass for a moment of extra zing that tore another groan from Nick’s throat.

The sculpted perfection of Nick’s tireless thighs as he fucked himself on Frank’s cock was a beauty to behold. Frank wanted to touch them and feel the bands of striated muscle there, but he was now using both hands to pound Nick’s “not that big” cock. He needed to drive them both to orgasm so that they could shower and then… then they would make love, maybe for hours or days or along some axis of the universe where time had no meaning.

Their climax was close. Every thrust into the deep, wonderful tightness of Nick’s ass felt like a tidal wave of ecstasy. Nick was whimpering and moaning and babbling Frank’s name over and over, mixed with “please” and “yes” and “oh, god, oh god!” Frank squeezed Nick’s cock and it seemed to swell in his hands, as if there was more pleasure than their bodies could hold, and suddenly the orgasm was galloping toward them. “Nick, babe, I’m—” he shouted, but the warning was cut off as they both started blasting all their cum, pulse after euphoric pulse, and Frank was certain they were both feeling it, a single release that took them higher than either of them had gone alone.

Frank didn’t remember exactly how, awash in heady afterglow as they’d been, but at some point after their release they found their way, naked and playful, into his master bathroom and the decent-sized shower stall taking up the far end of the room. The main thing he was aware of now, apart from the pleasure still spinning through him and his big guy behind him, was the way the scalding shower was saturating the air with slow-billowing steam, enveloping them in a kind of pure, sweltering mist that sloughed away everything else. The heat of the punishing spray beating at his skin, intense as it was, had nothing on the tiny, pinprick orange sun Frank had blazing in his physical and emotional core—the mirror of the massive, atom-sized star he could feel burning in the heart of the man behind him. Frank had seen videos simulating the interaction of close-set binary star systems, the complex flows of gravity and motion causing matter and gasses to pass in an elegant exchange between the twin bodies, and now he knew how that felt. Power and spirit passed between them, the dynamics as sure and inexorable as gravitational force.

If anything the flow of power was accelerating—almost as though after priming their connection with foreplay and sex the act of cleansing themselves together in a cascade of hot water and roiling steam broke the final barrier, finally liberating their true forms. The flood of sensation was overwhelming, every part of him reacting in stimulation and response, and it was all Frank could do to even register that something was happening, something transformative and transcendent.

Frank saw now that he had already been changing, subtle hints and coy samples of his potential, but now the dam was broken, and it was erotic as fuck. He’d already been muscular in a compact, “sparkplug” sort of way from two decades of keeping himself hard and toned; he’d been proud of the Mack truck brawn he’d carefully hewn and maintained, especially the hard chest, thick legs, and the hard muscle gut with the visibly outlined abs that seemed to fascinate all the guys who thought that a tiny boy-band six-pack was the only model of male abdominal aesthetics. Now, though, everything was ramping up, filling relentlessly with the power of their connection as the water and steam surrounded them. All his muscles were expanding before his eyes, little by little, as though a steady mitosis was taking place in every corner of his body that gave strength and beauty.

He watched in awe as his pecs swelled and shaped as if from a hundred workouts and a hundred more, expanding unstoppably outward from his chest like the evocation of a fantasy. He felt his hard cock squeeze and buck at the sight, as awed and aroused as he was. Half in a daze he checked his arms, looking down on thickening delts that seemed to come into focus as the striations emerged and clarified, his shoulders pushing outward with steadily increasing breadth and mass. Below them biceps he’d already been proud of slowly swelled and firmed, gaining might and definition with a matching response in his triceps as his his forearms corded and grew. He flexed, exulting at the uncanny might and strength coursing through him, enough to push through the tile wall in front of him and tear this condo apart with his bare hands.

His lower extremities felt just as strong, and as he examined his overwhelming flood of sensations he realized his legs were not only thickening, the thighs brushing and then pressing together as they incrementally developed, but they were lengthening, too, pushing him upward as if driving him away from the floor of the shower. His torso was stretching, too, and his head was—no longer getting wet? He blinked up in confusion to find that the shower head, always a good half a foot over his scalp every time he’s showered in the past, was inching past his face, spraying his neck and his increasingly bulbous chest as if that were the way things has always been.

His muscles were passing impressive and pushing toward abnormal, and all he could think about was how amazing it looked and how the feel of all this strength and power was like a constantly verging near-orgasm. He was becoming massive, a huge, inhumanly swollen muscle ox, and he loved every part of it. Torrents of pleasure tore through him as his growth seemed to accelerate a notch. He’d have to cum soon. Probably he’d coat the whole shower stall.

He grabbed his dick… and gasped. His fat, blunt cock, always thick and heavy but not what you’d call a monster, was now a true beast, way too big for one hand and still growing, pushing his fingers and thumb apart cell by splitting cell. No way, he thought. No way. With a rush of awe, he grabbed his balls—they were the size of fists. Fuck. He was close, and he could Nick’s orgasm building with his own.

Nick had to see this. He turned, thrilling momentarily as his shoulders brushed and caught for a second in the narrow breadth between the sliding door of the shower and the tile wall. Facing Nick now with the hot spray pelting his impossibly wide back, he grinned and managed to get out, “Hey, babe, look at… this…”

Then he saw the form in front of him, half-hidden in the shifting steam like a mountain god emerging from the mists.

The sex and the shower and the communion of the spirits had released their true, sleeping forms, but the transformation had been different for each of them. Frank had gotten taller—he guessed from the position of the shower head he was a good foot higher in stature than he had been before, putting him something like 6-foot-4 or 6-foot-5—and he’d packed length and even more girth onto his already girthy cock, giving him a footlong two-hander club with balls to match; but his main expansion had been along the horizontal axes. Frank was now packed with crazy amounts of muscle, from his thick neck and bulging traps to shoulders and pecs so massive he’d have trouble getting through narrower doorways, arms that looked like he could tear apart Subarus, and tree trunk legs strong enough to outrace an elephant, leaving behind size-fifteen impact craters as he ran. Nick’s growth, on the other hand, was all upwards—and downwards.

Nick had gotten taller, too—a lot taller. And the methodology hadn’t been stretching him like taffy: Nick had been scaled up, keeping his attractively heroic proportions as he swelled upwards toward the top of the shower stall ceiling as though the goal had been to smash through the ceiling and escape. Nick’s head was pressed hard against the glistening drywall, his face even more handsome than before, almost inhumanly so, like he might make guys hard just the sight of him. Glassy blue eyes stared unseeingly down at Frank, as though his transformation had been so extreme he was lost in some kind of euphoric growth trance.

Frank raked his eyes down his other half, his cock surging at every inch of him. His muscles were expanded, but subtly, and the main effect was refinement, perfecting the form, shape, and bulk of every muscle. His shoulders were wide, but what drew the eye was the beauty of their curves and swells. His arms were aesthetic perfection, thick and admirably sculpted, and Frank wanted to wrap his hands around them, stroking the larger man’s upper arms up and down with his hands like a cock. The pecs had grown a little more than the others, perhaps, protruding proudly from his chest, thick and heavy and yet still as compelling to look at for their pleasing shape as for their obvious power. His chest hair had increased only modestly in proportion to the size of the pecs themselves, splayed in Starry Night curves and circles over the sloping expanse. Below rippled a hair-dusted abdomen like a field of hard, well-hewn diamonds, spreading along a flat expanse between a wide chest and shoulders and a narrow, grippable waist. And then—

Frank took a step back into the spray, groaning as he grabbed his stone-hard erection with both hands. Frank’s tight, heavy, lightly hairy balls had ballooned well past what was normal for guys, but… fuck, Even for a shower-stall-filling giant, Nick’s balls were immense, his sack so huge it was resting on the tiny inch-square tiles of the stall floor. Across them, below a tiny-looking thatch of dark, damp pubic hair, was draped a mighty god of a cock—a veiny monster so huge it was thicker than Nick’s exquisitely crafted legs and, even curved heavily over the mass of his high-density, beach-ball nuts, still managed to almost brush the ground with its wide, red glans as it pouring out dribbles of precum to mix with the water pouring down Frank’s extra-wide back.

As he watched it inched further, lengthening and thickening as if fulfilling a destiny. Nick’s scalp pushed harder against the ceiling, and his shoulders seemed to tighten and expand minutely—a single finger’s breadth, not much on a seven-foot-plus god, but to see it happen on this already beautiful, orgasmically sexy man was nothing short of a revelation. His abs tightened a tenth of a notch as if by the operation of a tiny mystical crescent wrench somewhere, and his massive junk inched that little bit more. His pecs swelled slightly, too, the subtle black chest hair swirling across them spreading and curling almost imperceptibly in sympathy with his increasing brawn. Nick was still growing—they were both still growing, Frank realized, almost but not yet having achieved their true, nascent forms, and merely knowing that truth was like a hundred blowjobs.

It was almost too much, but as Frank stared at Nick’s gargantuan, impossible junk, his mind filled with the prospect of just how much cum those balls could produce, and suddenly he couldn’t hold back anymore. He started stroking himself feverishly, and Frank building up his ecstatic pleasure seemed to snap Nick out of his trance. His eyes focused and then darkened, his expression shifting from a slack-faced wallowing in too much stimulus to a real and present lust and passion, too intense for anyone but bonded mates sharing a sun-hot spark. As Frank jerked off to this vision before him, Nick’s mighty cock started to swell and rise, hardening and lengthening until it was pushing apart Frank’s more-than-massive thighs. As it hardened Frank could feel their orgasm rising together, and then it was exploding, tearing through them, and they were erupting with ridiculous amounts of cum, over and over again as they fell into each other, kissing and groping and feeling the orgasm like the crush of a freight train. Frank was in a delirium of pleasure, almost blacking out, the experience leaving shreds of memory—the feel of his massive, incredibly dense chest against Nick’s hard abs as he mashed his face between his giant’s heavy pecs, both of them cumming like they were the conduits for a nation’s worth of orgasms… the cum reaching his ankles and then his lower calves… the kiss, deep and passionate and perfect, like a meeting of souls.

Finally they came to. The hot water was long gone, and the cold spray had been going long enough to have washed most of their cum down the drain. Nick was sitting with his back against the far wall of the shower, his back against the cold tile, taking up a ludicrous amount of the confined space. Frank was in his lap looking up at him, Nick’s heavy cock draped over his legs, the enormous tool for the moment quiescent despite the inexhaustible flood of strength and energy that was now permanently a part of both men.

“Hey,” Frank said with a smile.

“Hey.” Nick gave him a shy grin, and Frank’s pulse went pit-a-pat.

He reached up and stroked the bristling jaw of his handsome demigod. “So,” Frank said, letting his smile go slightly crooked, “how do you feel about fucking forever?”

Nick’s eyes darkened, and his grin twisted to match Frank’s. “I couldn’t want anything more,” he said, lowering his mouth to Frank’s for a deep and dirty kiss that lasted a very long time.

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From the files of the Magic Misuse Office by BRK High-ranking magilegal investigator Liam O'Brien reports on a YouTube video in which twin college students have an illicitly magical effect on anyone watching. 6 parts 20k words Added Sep 2017 Updated 4 Sep 2021 21k views 4.9 stars (36 votes) No comments yet •Cock Growth•Huge Cock•Multicock•Multihead•Multiarm•Multilimb•Multitorso•Replication•Straight to Gay•Muscle Growth•Increased Libido•Transformation•Social Media•Incest•Twins•Selfcest•Merging•Witch/Warlock/Wizard •M/M•M/M/M