Outgrowth

by BRK   

Warin gets a special gift from his boyfriend—one that lets him be much more than just a pretty boy-toy.

Warin was already having the best day when his boyfriend surprised him. 

They were all moved into Myraxes’s new, understated yet exquisitely upscale house situated halfway up the ridge where all the fishing towns on the coast below could see them, and had the whole day ahead to themselves. Warin was curled up on the couch in nothing but those bright blue stretchy boxer-briefs his boyfriend loved, showing off his naturally lean, tightly-defined 160-pound, 6-foot, blue-eyed frame, and Myraxes was next to him, smiling with that fond, superior look in his brown eyes that went straight to Warin’s balls. He was fully clothed, of course, but casually (for him) in dark trousers and a five-hundred-buck sepia henley that draped over his thirtyish, slightly taller welterweight frame to absolute perfection. His legs were crossed, casually drawing attention to his sleek and sexy size 12s, his boyfriend’s bare feet matching Warin’s own being his way suggesting they were alike even if they were different.

“I got you a little Valentine’s Day gift, pup,” the older man said, pulling out something from somewhere behind his back—Warin couldn’t quite see where it had come from. It was a medium-sized blood-red paper gift bag, a bit upscale-looking, all pristine and smooth with thick, dark-red cords for handles. A bit of decorative light blue crepe frothed up from within. 

Myraxes held it up, dangling it by the cords from his index finger. “You want it? You’d like a present, wouldn’t you, pup?” he teased.

Warin grinned, filled with the simple joy he relished and craved. They’d been trying out the pup-and-handler thing now and then, and Warin was amazed at how well it suited them. Sometimes, before, Warin had felt uncomfortably like the wrong kind of boy-toy, especially at social occasions where he’d had to meet all of Myraxes’s rich and elegant friends, awkwardly conscious of being just a pretty-boy cook’s son with no reason to be there except as Myraxes’s catamite du jour. Everything had felt ephemeral and misaligned. The pup play, much to his relief, felt very much like him and Myraxes slotting into place: a sympathetic connection of genuine love, balanced and easy, like a real pup and master. Warin knew he had found his forever home. He wanted to be everything that would make his lover happy.

He knew what the play-taunting meant, and he was off the couch and crouching in front of his smiling lover, still grinning. He even lifted his hands up in front of his chest like paws. “Woof,” he said coyly, his grin twisting into a slight smirk, and Myraxes laughed. Still holding up the bag, he very deliberately adjusted himself with his free hand, his dancing brown eyes locked on Warin’s the whole time, and Warin felt an instant flush of answering heat, his always-reactive sausage-thick cock lurching instantaneously as if on command to a fat half-erection in his tight, stretchy shorts.

“You want?” Myraxes repeated. He turned his finger a little this way and that, starting the gift bag swaying tantalizingly between them. 

“Yes, please,” Warin begged, calm and ready. Myraxes handed them the bag.

Warin set the bag in front of him on the white faux-polar bear rug and made a show of tossing the blue crepe aside with both hands, enjoying the resulting soft chuckle from above. Then he dug out his prize, holding it up before him in awe. It was a Neoprene pup hood, with a blue head (matching his shorts!), black eyebrows, and a black muzzle that appeared to snap in place on either size. It was extremely well made, with little breathing holes on the side of the muzzle and a simple yet artistic shape that he knew would make him look like the pup he was. He grinned as he looked at the ears—they were tall, perky, and adorable. 

Warin’s heart and cock both swelled in equal measure, and he looked up at Myraxes with shining eyes. “For me?” he asked, his humility genuine. He knew it was a gift for him, but the asking and the confirmation were turn-ons for them both. 

“All yours, pup,” Myraxes said, and Warin had never felt safer or more loved. Without delay he pulled on the hood, making sure it was properly fastened, then looked up at Myraxes, grinning behind the muzzle. If he had had a tail he would have wagged it. It felt right. Strength surged through him, like his core had been connected to his lover’s infinite potency. It was a rush, and his cock sprang at last to full and rigid erection, pushing out the resilient fabric of his bright blue briefs. He panted inside the hood, feeling the pleasure and power become steady and real within him.

Myraxes watched him, intent but reserved, as if the real gift were yet to come. After a moment he lifted an eyebrow and said, “Give it back for a moment, pup. I want to see something.”

Warin’s heart quailed, but he went to obey, lifting his hands to the hood and trying to undo the snaps. Only… the snaps weren’t there. He tried forcing the hood off, but it wouldn’t budge. He looked up at Myraxes, eyes wide. It wouldn’t come off! 

Myraxes was smirking. “You like that, right, pup?” he teased. “You like that it’s all yours, all you?”

Warin nodded fervently. He was incredibly turned on now, loving every part of this.

“You like how it makes you feel, right? You can feel it inside you, don’t you? The need to grow?”

Warin realized he knew what his lover meant. That tingly power he’d felt was flowing through him, endlessly flooding every part of him. His body responded with excited stimulation, wanting to grow, to transform. He met Myraxes’s bright eyes. “Yes! Yes!” he said. “Yes!”

His lover’s smile was gentle and commanding. “Good boy,” he said. “Do it. You want to feel it, right? Do it. Do it, pup!”

Warin felt his muscles start to bulge and grow, not steadily but in small pops that widened his shoulders and pushed out his pecs and strengthened his thighs like the striking of a metronome, a slow steady drip of brawn and size over and over that thrilled him to the core with every dose. Everything about him grew, too, not just muscles. Bones ached as they lengthened and thickened, micron by micron. His face and skull was a part of it, growing with him—the hood as well, as though it were now literally a part of him and made to expand along with Warin’s physical being. His excited cock and balls bulged and jumped, adding size and weight heartbeat by slow heartbeat. Somehow they felt incrementally more sensitive, subtly a little more needy with each little throb, his state of arousal and capacity for pleasure expanding with the rest of him. Even his nipples seemed afire, like they were keeping up with an inner carnal acceleration of himself that might outstrip what was, so far, his steadily linear growth.

All through this Warin knelt before Myraxes, their gazes locked, and though he only smiled, his lover could not hide his glee. 

Warin had been about to express concern, to say he was getting too big. He would be a spectacle, a joke. How could he grow and grow and still live a normal life? But Myraxes’s intense focus was all on Warin, supporting him and encouraging him. “That feels so good, doesn’t it?” he coaxed, his tone teasing, like before. 

“It does, but—” Warin said, but the worry was guttering out as he stared into those patient, forceful, most beautiful eyes. “It does feel good,” he said finally, smiling.

“Yeah?” Myraxes said, in that coaxing tone that made Warin want to do more of whatever was making him speak like that. Warin thrilled, forgetting all fear. His growth seemed to speed up a little, his body expanding in direct response to Myraxes’s words and the powerful feelings they evoked in him. 

“Oh, good boy,” Myraxes cooed, his eyes shifting upward as the kneeling Warin face became level with his, then passed above in rhythmic jumps and spurts. “You just want to feel your muscles grow bigger and bigger, don’t you?” 

“Yes.” Warin rasped, his voice rough and deep. He was so big. So big, everywhere! All of his sensations were big, too. His cock was huge now, he knew, straining at the stretchy fabric. The tip was leaking huge amounts of pre, though he couldn’t see it—his expanding pecs were already getting in the way of what he could glimpse down there.

“Oh, you’re growing so fast,” Myraxes said proudly, eyes glinting. “I’m going to call you Lightning. Do you like that, Pup Lightning? Do you?” 

Warin grunted loudly in confirmation, the sound filling the elegant white living room. His lover’s approval caused a blinding surge in raw power forcing its way through him like the lightning he’d just been named for. In the space of a second he blew up, expanding ten percent in size all at once and even more in dense, powerful muscle mass. His delts were like boulders and his traps like mountains, brushing his ears as they grew. Even his belly swelled, pushing out under his pecs, the only part of him that wasn’t a ludicrous parody of zero-fat gym rat muscle beasts—and even that round belly was hard and firm. A pleasure to the touch, he suspected, if he dared. 

“You’re such a good boy,” Myraxes promised, staring up at him with the lust of a sorcerer conjuring his own personal demon. “Does Pup Lightning want to become a muscle monster?” he teased. “Does he want to grow huger than huge?”

He did. He so did. Power thrummed through him, growing him in every way. He felt impossibly strong and deliciously, fantastically huge. His old life, the existence he had lived as a sex toy passed from one sugar daddy to another was forgotten. He was Myraxes’s pup. He was Lightning. He was a creature of muscle, sex, and utter devotion. 

Myraxes was ablaze with a kind of imperious, admiring awe. “Good boy, Lightning! Stand up, boy, I want see!” he said, rising to his feet with his pup. Warin tried to stand, but the ceiling was too low. He had to be on the far side of ten feet tall, and packed with more muscle proportionately than ten bodybuilders. His cock and balls raged. His arm-sized cock sprang free of the stretchy shorts and splashed wet precum all over the couch, the living room, and Myraxes himself. 

“Magnificent,” the older man said from somewhere in front of him—Warin couldn’t see him anymore as his pecs swelled bigger and bigger. “You want more, don’t you, my Pup Lightning? You want to go out? Outside where everyone can see how wondrous you are? You want that, don’t you, pup?”

He did. He really did. He saw himself standing outside, huge beyond human, dwarfing the little mansion up the hill Myraxes had bought for them on a whim. But his towering arousal hadn’t blinded his mind to reason yet. He thought of the tiny, man-sized exits to the home and panicked. “Can’t, master. The doors—!”

Myraxes moved into his field of vision, having to step well back from Warin to be visible past his two-foot-thick pecs. Warin felt another rush of intoxicating power and need at the sight of him and instantly experienced another growth spurt, pushing his shoulders hard against the ceiling. It would give soon, and he didn’t want to destroy the house—except he kind of did. With this latest surge his disproportionate cockhead finally shoved into view past his chest, even though that had grown, too, and Warin was happy and a little drunk with arousal at the sight of it.

He lifted his eyes back up to his lover. Myraxes was smirking up at him that sexy dom smirk of his. He was so much smaller than him, and yet completely in charge of them both, and Warin’s sense of safety and encouragement was more solid than his rock-hard cock. 

Myraxes’s eyes twinkled, his smirk almost insufferable. “You want to go out? You want to go out, pup?” he taunted.

Warin laughed from inside his pup hood. “Woof!” he joked. 

Myraxes’s smirk became a grin. He pointed to a particular wall behind Warin. He didn’t have to say anything. Make a hole—that was the command. Warin thrilled at the thought, turning instantly to comply. He took aim and launched his inhuman body at the flimsy barrier, crashing through in a spray of studs, drywall, and plaster. 

Then he was out in the sun. He straightened, already looming over the one-story garage next to him and soon to be match for the two-story house itself. Myraxes appeared from around the side of the house, having exited the other way, and Warin watched as he pulled up a deck chair and dropped into it, facing Warin like he was performing for him—which he was. Warin quivered, close to finding a sexual and physical climax, but it was all in the palm of his lover’s masterful hand.

“Good boy,” Myraxes called up to him, his voice still sultry even at a raised volume. “You’re such a good boy, Pup Lightning!” Warin shivered, growing larger again and again, the spurts more massive now. His size was multiplying, no longer linear pops like before. It was a little scary—or would have been, without Myraxes.

“So good,” his lover soothed. “Pup wants to grow, isn’t that right? Pup wants to become immobile and burdened with mass, doesn’t he?”

“Please,” Warin begged, and he grew again. His cock seemed to get harder somehow, his testicles the size of medicine balls as he progressed to truly the size of a house. He had to grow, but he had to cum, and it was an agony not doing both. “Please—!” he whimpered.

“You’re doing so good, pup,” Myraxes said, the words filling him with warmth and power. “Just a little more. You want that, don’t you?” 

Warin groaned, feeling an orgasm winding up in him as he jumped up one more notch, the terracotta tiles of the roof heaving suddenly into view. He was buried in muscle, more mass than he’d ever imagined, and it was pure pleasure to be huge and impossible and… and… fuck, he had to cum.

He stared down at Myraxes, pleading with his eyes, his now-leg-sized rock-hard wang wagging directly before him. He could see those brown eyes clearly even at this distance. He could feel their love and command.

“Now, pup,” Myaxes said suddenly, and all at once everything released. “Now, now, now!”

He grew one last time as if that were a normal part of a man’s climax, reaching something like 25 or 30 feet. Then a hundred orgasms welled up him like a thundering herd, bursting through him with impossible pleasure as he gushered insane amounts of cum past the edge of the property and straight off the side of the mountain, raining down on the valley below. The force of it was so strong that he recoiled, falling backward in dismay as he came and came, until he thudded to the ground with seismic force, his brain-melting cumspray now soaring high into the air like a literal geyser.

Finally the orgasm, or orgasms, subsided in due course, though it felt like his release had lasted hours of mindless ecstasy—certainly the shadows had all shifted from morning to afternoon at some point. He lay on the soft, cool lawn, feeling immeasurably heavy and infinitely sated, his enormous body speckled with globs of jizz and simmering with endless satisfaction. 

Staring up at the sky he felt an odd pressure on his iron torso, almost like the press of feel between the ball of his belly and the mountains of his chest. The sensation climbed up the cliffs his three-foot-thick pecs, and then he saw his man, his master, standing astride his cleavage like a muscle mountaineer. He was perfect, as always, though Warin knew he’d gotten caught in the blast of cum and must have been covered in it. With the aplomb of the supremely confident, he had taken a moment for a rinse and a change of clothes, though the dampness of his combed-back hair was a subtle reminder he couldn’t completely control his appearance or environment. 

Still, as he smiled down at him from the prospect of Warin’s own pecs, Warin couldn’t help thinking he looked damn good.

He looked perfect—in his own way.

The older man waited until their gazes met. “Whose pup are you?” he asked softly.

“Yours,” Warin said through the pup hood that could never be removed. “Always yours.”

Myraxes smiled. “Good boy.”

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