Eggmen chronicles

by brazboy

 2122, eighty years after the anti-AI law, sixty years after the GMHs (genetically modified humans) became officially allowed. The human species counts 21 billion people living in three planets, but only about one in three are from traditional genetic lineages—more and more GMH have been created to fill the gap between supply and demand following the fertility crisis and the ever-growing need of populational expansion for labor and consumption. These new humans are just like the rest of us—except when they aren’t

Added: Dec 2021 Updated: 8 Jan 2022 15,534 words 4,527 views 4.5 stars (2 votes)


Crivaldo Balsígula woke up from his afternoon nap in a large hotel bed in Brasília. Still feeling a little tired, he took the remote control from the bedside table and turned on the television on a 24/7 news channel. The anchor—by all accounts a beautiful woman—was repeating old news about protests in Rio and a fire in Salvador, when suddenly the topic changed. She now talked about the 2122 populational count for Brazil: 312 million people, 156 million of whom were eggmen. For the very first time in history, a majority.

“I guess that’s it, the end of western civilization,” said the leader of Brazil’s Christian Conservative Party, as he watched the news from the bed. He didn’t change the channel as the news anchor also informed the viewer that with this change Brazil became one of the 98 countries in the world with a majority eggman population—joining a club of mostly western and Asian nations which included from Russia to Japan and Portugal.

“I’d rather be dominated by damn robots!” snorted the famous conservative politician, before an arm appeared from under the blankets and hugged his soft belly.

“Hmmm, Crivaldo, what are you mumbling about?” said the other voice.

“Nothing, I was just watching the news,” Crivaldo answered. The person under the blanket then uncovered their body, revealing his muscular frame, his large, almost 50cm-long soft cock, and his immense pectoral muscles.

“News? I will show you what’s news. Have you already seen my new nipcocks?” asked the hot male prostitute lying on the bed, his beautiful but completely extraordinary body the most evident proof of his being an eggman.

Crivaldo’s eyes left the TV screen for a second, and laid on the handsome man he had besides him—yes, he had noticed the beautiful nipplecocks cozily laying jutting out of the man’s hardy pecs, but no, he hadn’t had enough of them.

“Come here on top of me and feed me,” said Crivaldo, and the other man obeyed. “But be silent, I still want to know what is happening as I might have to talk about it in today’s session,” he completed, before having the man’s gigantic soft cock invade his mouth.

Crivaldo suckled on the handsome man’s large dick, feeding on his precum, while listening the news anchor’s continual stream of information. She now told the audience about the trends of the eggman population at home and overseas: growth pretty much everywhere, even Saudi Arabia was debating the possibility of lifting their ban on GMHs.

“It must stop,” Crivaldo thought to himself while suckling on the large cock. “This has gone for too long and it must stop.”

I was never really one of those men who had a lot of body changes, but one of my former boyfriends was into them and he had gotten me to start enjoying some minor improvements on myself. First it was muscle, then height, then more muscle and more height, until I reached 2m and decided that it’d be too disruptive to keep going in that direction. I then started doing minor twerks into things like my balls, ass, dick and tongue—you know, small things that people at work wouldn’t notice but that were great in bed. At that point I was definitely big, but continued carefully avoiding not becoming so large that I couldn’t somewhat pass as a non-GMH if I absolutely had to.

Because I have slowed down on visible changes, since I moved cities for work everyone I see in my daily life only knows me more or less as I was last Friday: a 2m tall man, heavy on muscles and with a beautiful bubble butt which shows when I move in my less-than-baggy clothes. What they don’t know, of course, was that I used the carnival holiday week to go to into a fancy eggman health resort—it cost me almost a full year of savings, but it was worthwhile as they can do a lot more there than you can have done in a small clinic or at home. I purchased the complete package: full health improvement, genetic update, and increased cock, balls and tongue size to the absolute maximum that would still allow me to live a normal daily life—I also added 20cm to my height and 45kg in muscle mass, but that’s another issue.

The changing process was, as usual, delightful. I spent most of the time in the gestation chamber, while the nanobots went through my cells re-writing my genetic code and allowing my body to heal and change itself. Fortunately for me the company whose services I was using has lots of experience working with my particular DNA, as I am a member of a quite numerous strain of eggmen here in Brazil—although since I had been last updated more than five years ago, just that overhauling of my genes took about half of my time in the chamber. I did leave, however, a new man: my face was once more perfectly symmetrical, and I looked like a 25-year-old in the spring of their life again; my muscles bulged even more than before, covered by my perfect, spotless skin; my cock and balls filled my pants more than ever, only not looking obscenely large because they were literally overshadowed by my massive pectorals.

So, when I arrived at work this morning and had to both lower my head and turn 90 degrees to the left so I could comfortably enter into our meeting room, there was an obvious awkward silence.

“So you did it,” said Rodrigo, from our import-export department. “I knew you were doing it!” he added, victorious. I pretended to laugh.

“Do you think you can still work normally?” asked José, from marketing. “Is it not… distracting?” he went on, looking down at my bulge before he got red. I laughed once again.

“Nah, it’s fine. This new body does need a higher maintenance than the old one, but nothing major,” I reply, as the two men listen attentively.

“Gentlemen, can we please start with work,” commanded Cláudia, our team leader, from the sales department, while pointing me towards the computer. I, from logistics, put up my presentation and started talking about our business of exporting soybeans to South Korea, and how the whole chain was a nightmare and why it would make a lot more sense if we started to process the beans at home before we sent them to the other side of the world.

As I talked, I felt the attention of all the three sets of eyes that were present, and not only in a professional way—which was good, because I didn’t spend 25 thousand dollars so this body would not bring me any returns. As my words left my mouth and I moved through the slides, I could see that Cláudia bit her pen looking at me; while Rodrigo looked at the movements my arms made as I spoke—the contracting and relaxing of my muscles almost hypnotizing the man. José’s eyes, meanwhile, never really went above my pecs—dwelling mostly around my crotch.

When the presentation was over, I received only compliments—no questions—and that’s how I knew my new body was working wonders. Of course, being this size meant ditching some benefits of not looking obviously like an eggman all the time, but it also revealed some opportunities. After I responded to the compliments and took a place at the meeting table, it was Rodrigo’s turn to stand up and move to start his own presentation—about the current laws on the export of raw versus industrialized foodstuff to South Korea.

While he presented, more often than not Rodrigo’s gaze was coming towards me. José, meanwhile, basically ignored Rodrigo and kept glancing towards my pecs (which were still visible to him even as we were both sitting down). I was aware of their gaze, and also aware that Cláudia tried desperately not to look at me, and so I did move my arms and even my pecs in such I was that I thought would offer my colleagues the highest possible temptation—even if my muscles were well hidden under my work clothes.

After the two presentations we had a debate where Cláudia stressed how key it was that we prepared our research for our meeting with the Koreans, as they’d arrive on Wednesday and it was fundamental for the company that we managed to improve the terms of our current deal. We all then commented on things we thought we could improve and left the meeting planning to talk again to finalize the presentations and the proposal tomorrow. We also discussed where we’d take the Koreans during the week to try to build a better professional relationship: each one of us would be in charge of taking them to lunch one of the days of their stay, and we’d all go have dinner and drink together after work hours, and take them to some Brazilian music event during the weekend.

After all of that was settled, I went to my office to make some small changes to my presentation and also add some key points that my colleagues had raised. As I walked around the company I felt all eyes on me, even more than ever before. It was rather difficult to really walk through the hallways of our office with my new, larger body, but I can’t say I didn’t enjoy forcing people to move aside to let my muscular self pass—one could even see my dick stirring up from it. I did make a mental note not to grow any more muscles or height, however, or it would start to really be an impediment to my normal work life.

About an hour later, as I was working in my office, I heard a knock on the door.

“Please, come in,” I call, and our cute intern entered. His name was Gabriel, he was 21 and had been with us since the middle of last year. His eyes saw me and devoured me, but he didn’t seem surprised, which made me smile. I obviously didn’t spell out to him that I was going to get some improvements done to my body during carnival, but I most certainly had dropped some hints when we spent time together.

He closed the door behind him, locking it up, and advanced to hand me some papers—yes, we still use paper in 2122, it has to do with the anti-AI laws and redundancy.

“Hello, boss. I am bringing you some of the reports you asked about the costs of transporting soy from Mato Grosso to Belém and to Santos, and also those numbers you wanted on corn and ethanol shipments to South Korea,” he said, and then his professional visage transformed into a cheekier one.

“Thanks, Gabriel,” I said, and then I looked up and saw his smile. “What else do you need?”

He coughed. “Do you have some free time now?” he asked, and I recognized that voice. I pulled away from my table, and turned my face ever so slightly to the left. The window being behind me meant that this young handsome lad was bathed by the sun rays, from my point of view. The natural lights only accentuated his sharp features, his blond hair and brown eyes—his nice muscles hidden under those social clothes were still mostly invisible, but the fact that he fit his clothing perfectly was clear as day.

“Depends on how urgent the matter at hand is,” I responded, and he got closer to me, walking around the large desk.

“Very urgent, boss,” he said. Gabriel was a nice attractive college senior who had been accepted into a very good internship at our company. He was in every way an amazing human—including his shape. That was not surprising, as he was—same as me—genetically modified to be perfect. The difference between us, however, was that he was still focused on fitting in, and as such he didn’t seem to have had as many updates—no visible ones at least.

In a sense, he reminded me of myself when I was his age.

“Then I’m all ears,” I respond, still sitting in my comfortable chair. Gabriel kneeled in front of me.

“I know I am greedy, but your new form is amazing. Can you please help me get some release now? I have done everything you asked, boss,” he asked, pleadingly. I smiled. Our agreement before carnival had been he’d not cum during the holidays and that, if he didn’t, I’d reward him for it.

“Of course. Just prove to me that you have fulfilled the terms of our agreement,” I said, and Gabriel then lowered his pants, making his completely hard perfect 41cm cock fly upwards. The large missile-shaped organ seemed to be made of steel, but it was also completely dry and restricted by a tightly arranged watch-like device around its base. I lowered myself and extended my hand to touch the device, which disarmed with my touch.

“The subject has not cum in 219 hours, 19 minutes and 32 seconds,” said the device, while releasing the hard cock. As the device untightened its hold on Gabriel’s cock, the organ throbbed and started releasing increasing amounts of pre, coating the lad’s spear, and the intern moaned in his regained freedom—especially when I used my hand to take the device off his appendage, and set it on my desk.

“Good boy,” I said, and then patted Gabriel on the head, touching his soft curly hair and caressing it. He looked up to me, with intense desire.

“Will you help me then, boss?” he asked, and I nodded.

While I was still sitting down, he came closer to me, still kneeling. He lowered his head towards my crotch. “You have grown wonderfully, boss,” he noted.

“Yes, now release me,” I responded, and he eagerly opened my pants and released my cock and balls. At this point in time, I was still soft—only a meter in length, more or less. But things wouldn’t continue this way for long. “And remember our agreement: no vestige should be left behind,” I completed, and he nodded, following to start rubbing his face on my cock.

“It’s so long and warm. I have seen other big eggmen, but they don’t carry their size like you do, boss,” he said, while his cheeks were rubbing against my cock, and then his whole head was under it, sandwiched by my balls and penis. “They are vulgar, while you are so sophisticated,” he said. I laughed and he removed his head from where it was, looking a little flustered.

“You say that because you are young and naïve. Me and them, we are the same, just as you and I are the same.” I stood up and took off my jacket, and then my shirt. “I am an eggman, you are an eggman. We are both genetically engineered and free to further change ourselves as we like. I may have chosen this body, these muscles and this penis, because it fits my needs and personality, but that isn’t different in any significant way from the choices of the largest whore at Lapa.”

Gabriel’s eyes shone as he looked at my upper body: my pecs were so much larger than the last time he saw them, and my other muscles had also grown. The lad had always been fond of muscles, and he was almost drooling as he looked up towards me.

He was still on his knees, and still in that position he moved my way, like a faithful servant in prayer. He raised his hands and held my still half soft cock with them. He then retracted my foreskin, revealing my large purple head, and started caressing it with his cheeks once more.

“And yet you are so different, boss,” he said, liking my cock’s head. “I feel it with all my senses.”

I looked down towards his handsome angelic face, only enhanced by his deep lust for me, and smiled deviously.

“Do you also like my muscles, or is it only my cock that you are fond of?” I asked. He looked alarmed.

“Boss! How can you say that?” he hugged my hardening cock, and caresses my balls. “All your body, all of you, it is all amazing. I would have said you were perfect before, but you found ways to surpass even that,” he said, and as he went up, he was now licking the base of my cock. “You should create your own lineage, boss.”

As I heard his suggestion, I smiled at the idea, but immediately put it away—I would like to have children, but reproducers were anything but parents. It was their eggsperm that becomes new eggman, but it was not their legacy which continued on. So I chose to ignore that last remark.

“If that’s so, why do you not pay any homage to the rest of me?” I said, and he suddenly stood up—he was tall, 190cm tall, but yet his head only reaches bellow my pecs.

“I am sorry, I am impatient, I have much to learn,” he said, and then started feeling my muscles—touching my arms, licking my pecs, stroking them and feeling their lower and upper parts. He especially liked to rub his face against by pecs and abs, and to lick and bite my nipples, teasing me. He breathed my smell in. “Your whole body, boss, is a present to all of us in the company. But particularly to me, you have been so kind to me, as you allow me to see it from up close.”

I smiled, as I felt his touch under the shadow of my pecs, although I didn’t see it myself. His actions were relaxing, but they were also making my dick harden behind him.

“I like to help,” I said, and he lowered his ass so that it touched my penis.

“And so do I, boss,” he replied, and then rubbed his ass against my cock until I was completely hard, all 2 meters of my manliness. Soon, Gabriel was back on the floor, eye level with my snake. He then progressed to take my cock’s head inside his mouth, one of two parts of his body I knew for a fact that he has modified. I smiled and moaned ever so slightly with the pleasure he gave me by engulfing more and more of my length. I also felt a little bit flattered by the words and actions of this handsome young man in the spring of his life, and as such my cock presented him with some precum to ingest.

He took my cock, masterfully, and lots of it—one whole meter, and even if there’s another meter to go, he engulfs it easily. His jaw was dislocated to fit me in, his whole mouth opening in a fully unnatural way—but can anything be natural with GMHs? Gabriel’s cock was also out, and his hands reached for it, but I commanded him to stop, and so he did. Gabriel continued taking more and more of my length, which by now was literally stretching his throat due to my girth, making his neck widen. I am so long that even with half a meter still outside, my cock was reaching the depths of Gabriel’s modified system and almost leaving in the other side. By then he was on his fours, and I was on my knees, so he could take as much as possible of my penis—and then it was my turn to hold his head in place and fuck his face.

I fucked him hard for several minutes, almost half an hour—hammering my cock in and out of his body, as he trembled in pleasure. He was moaning, and I told him to be less loud. He obeyed. I moved my hand from his head to his waist, as to control his whole body during my thrusts. My hard pole in him was like being filled by a log, and so I had to be careful not to be too harsh. He also followed our rule of cleanliness and didn’t cum on my carpet, but fucking his modified throat, stomach and intestines while holding his waist I knew I was close to doing exactly that myself. My cock hammered into his body with every pounding, and my balls hit his stretched neck and torso. Before I came, I had to make sure I’d pulled enough of my cock out of him that he could ingest all of my cum. When I did explode, he happily ate it all up, his belly expanding as he chugged in my fluids. Even as my explosion ended, he suckled my cock, making it completely clean except for his saliva, which he had modified to be basically antiseptic.

As I pulled my cock from his insides, he was still hard and horny, as he couldn’t come himself. So I smiled kindly to him, stood up, and then sat back in my chair again.

“Now let me help you,” I said, and he quickly stood up, almost like a soldier called to attention, his hard cock bouncing eagerly.

Even with him standing up and me sitting down, I was still too tall to reach his cock with my mouth, so I had to lower myself a little. I engulfed his whole manhood in one movement, and he grunted in pleasure. I was about to fuck him with my face, but as I was about to pull, he touched the back of my head, pleadingly.

“Please boss, don’t move, or I might dirty your office,” he said, sounding desperate—so much so that I decided to simply caress his cock with my tongue, and his ass cheeks with my hands. In less than a minute he was panting, until he suddenly came—I ate it all, and it was a lot, a record for our lad. When his shots became a dribble, I suckled a little and then let go of his cock, wet with my own saliva.

He was panting, and I looked at him with a smile, and kissed him—so he could taste his own cum in my mouth. Soon I pulled from our kiss, and he was standing there, still panting. He was completely enchanted, and even as I put my clothes back on and went back to behind my desk, he hadn’t moved a centimeter from where he was.

“I hope you enjoyed that,” I said, and then looked towards the door. “But we both have work to do now,” I added. He became red, and nodded.

“Of course!” he said, exasperated, dressing himself once more. “It was wonderful boss! Anything else you need, call me!” he said, and then almost tripped towards the exit door. Before he left, however, he looked back, shyly. “I hope we can do this again soon, though,” he said and I just raised an eyebrow.

“If you continue being a good boy,” I responded, waving my hand. “But now let’s be productive,” I finished as I picked up the reports he has brought me. He nodded furiously and left my office.

The Koreans arrived early in the morning, and I went welcome them in the airport and took them to the hotel where they’d be staying. They were a team of six, five men and one woman—the oldest of whom being the director of import and export of their company. We introduced ourselves and I told them that we have already planned a place for us to have lunch at in a few hours—a famous churrascaria, or Brazilian steak house. They seemed to like the idea, but also appeared to be understandably tired as they had had to travel a full 24 hours to arrive here.

When I went pick them up at the hotel for lunch, which I’d be hosting by myself as my colleagues were working in the final preparations for our afternoon meeting, the Koreans seemed a lot more energetic, although they also continued acting rather formally. We took two cars and drove to the restaurant where I showed them how it works. They reacted positively, seeming bewildered by the sheer amount and variety of meat you could eat at once. After the explanations the conversation flowed more or less easily, although we were all careful to steer away from business.

“So, is it not hard for someone with a body such as your own to work in an office?” asked the oldest one of the guys I’m hosting, the director, leading to some surprised and even embarrassed looks from the others—especially from a certain Mr. Park Byeong-cheol who I was pretty certain was a fellow eggman.

“I wouldn’t know—this is a new body, relatively speaking. I had some improvements done two weeks ago,” I responded, and most of the other people at the table seemed hugely awkward, not knowing where to look while trying to glance at me. The director continued carrying the conversation on, regardless.

“I see. Do you think has improved business in any way?” he asked, and I think I frowned a little.

“I wouldn’t know, sir, I am not in the sales department,” I responded. One of the younger guys in the Korean staff coughed and the woman rushed to give him some water to drink. The ambience was now uncomfortable, but the director continued unfazed.

“I see,” he said, then looked to the side, towards Park Byeong-cheol. “Maybe we can try something like that as well in the future, as an experiment,” he finished, and the younger staff member was now coughing so hard that I asked the waiters to bring more water. Fortunately, the confusion finally allowed the conversation to move to other topics, but the boss did continue mentioning my frame every so often—that was something that I had been getting used to, though, and so I just tried to ignore it.

Right after lunch I drove us all to our company’s headquarters where they met the rest of our Brazilian team and we all started having informal conversations over coffee before the scheduled time for our meeting. I was talking to two of the Koreans about the advantages and disadvantages of living in São Paulo—while trying to add subtle remarks about logistics and why it matters so much in the Brazilian scenario—when I got pulled to the side by Park Byeong-cheol.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he said, and I smiled. “Our director can be a bit old fashioned sometimes. I hope that does not create any bad mood between our teams,” he went on. I raised my eyebrow, taking in Byeong-cheol’s image: he was tall, his hair was short and straight, black like coal; muscular, but not so much that he’d look out of place—yet his face was so perfect, his muscles so wonderful, his voice so soft, that it all together made it almost too obvious that he was a GMH.

“Absolutely. I am used to it, as I am sure you are as well. If I were to allow every slight to prevent me from doing business, I would not be in this line of work,” I responded. He sighed, and then raised his hand and touched my arm. “Interesting,” I thought to myself. I knew, of course, that all eggmen were gay, but I hadn’t expected to get this sort of attention from him, to be honest.

“Good. I hope we can conduct this partnership in way that’s beneficial to both sides,” he said, and I saw his eyes travelling down. “Not only in what relates to this deal, but also because we can learn much from each other’s company…ies.”

“Of course. I mean, Korean and Brazilian business cultures are very different. Maybe you’d be interested in learning more about how we function here?” I asked, and he smiled and nodded.

“I’d be eager to,” he said, and his hold in my arm tightened a little—he felt my muscles, I felt his touch.

We were then interrupted by Cláudia, our team leader, who asked me some information about beaches nearby where we could take the Koreans for the weekend, and I replied something about Paraty and São Sebastião, but we didn’t settle on any specific plans. During the rest of the pre-meeting informal conversation Byeong-cheol and I joined the main group, and we mostly talked about semi-work-related informalities until Cláudia decided it was time for business.

We had a one-hour break in the end of the afternoon for some snacks. The Koreans went out with the rest of my team to eat at a famous coffee shop nearby where they could also get some Brazilian food. I stayed back, firstly so I could check the preparations for the next session—which was rather easy to do—but mostly because my team wanted to give me a break as I had been hosting the Koreans since they had arrived half a day before.

Suspiciously, however, Byeong-cheol also stayed behind with me in the meeting room.

“Do you need any help?” he asked, and I shook my head, while taking out some of the empty water bottles.

“No, thanks for offering,” I replied, and then I threw the bottles in the trash can. “Don’t you want to go with them? They’re going to a nice place near here, you can meet them there if you hurry.”

“No, I was interested in continuing our… cultural exchange from before,” he said, and I nodded.

“Okay. I have to get other bottles in the kitchen, though, so if you don’t mind, can you come with me as we talk?” I ask, and he just smiles and follows me out of the room.

Thankfully the floor was mostly empty at this hour as many people left to grab some food, or were simply working at their desks; still, I was so large that Byeong-cheol couldn’t stay besides me as we walked down the hallways—instead, he had to follow me from behind, only being careful to stay close enough that he’d not have to talk too loudly to make himself heard by me. That did mean his package rubbed into my large ass a few times as we walked to the kitchen.

“A man like you must receive a lot of attention,” he said, as we walked down the hallway.

“Sometimes,” I said, “but not as much as you might expect.”

“I see,” Byeong-cheol said, slowly. “I remember you said this—” He looked down towards my body. “—is relatively new.” I nodded. He cleared his throat before continuing. “So, did your partner like your changes?” he asked, slowly.

I stopped abruptly in front of him, which caught him by surprise, making his whole body slam against my back and ass. I look back and downwards, towards him. First serious, which made him tremble a little, uncomfortable, and then letting out a mischievous smile.

“My only partners are my business partners, at this moment. They seem rather fine with my recent changes,” I answered. He blushed and then I started walking again. He followed suit. “Why do you ask, are you interested… in changing your body, and maybe you fear some backlash?”

He laughed.

“Oh, no. If I did something like that, I’d certainly lose my job. We are 70% of the population of Korea, but you know how it is—the more of us there are, the tighter the control becomes,” he replied, I raise an eyebrow. “On the other hand, just like you, my only partners are from work, so I have no reason to fear for backlash in the personal arena.”

“I see,” I said, and then smiled to him. “And here is the kitchen,” I complete, showing him around. I grab some water bottles in the fridge, which I carry in a hug between my immense chest and my broad arms. I see Byeong-cheol looking at the bottles pressing against my muscular pecs, seeing the condensed humidity wetting my shirt a little, and biting his lips.

“Do you want some help carrying that?” he asked, still looking towards my pecs. I shake my head.

“Thank you again, but it’s fine,” I reply, as we walk back to the meeting room. “I am sorry I’m taking up your time with this boring errand, though.”

“Not at all, I was the one who wanted to talk to you.”

“Yes,” I said, slowly, as we walk. “But I still feel bad you couldn’t join the other ones at the coffee shop, and you haven’t really seen much of our company either. If you’d like I can show you my office, I have some things over there you might like.” He didn’t reply for a second, so I look back towards him—his eyes meet mine, they were bright with anticipation.

“Oh, yes, that’d be great,” he said, and then after I put the water bottles in the meeting room we went straight to my office and locked the door.

I offered him a seat in my couch, which he took. I then offered him some snacks I had in my office and some coffee (I had a small coffee machine)—he refused both. He seemed shy and anxious, and that feeling soon transformed into discomfort.

“So,” I asked, sitting on the couch opposite of him. “Tell me about Korea. Are there many modified eggmen there?” I nibble a little into the snacks I had offered him. No use letting them go to waste.

“Not many, mostly those working in entertainment,” he responded, eying me hungrily.

“I see. Not even small changes like mine?”

He seemed surprised and smiled. “Your changes aren’t small—at least, I’d not consider them as such.”

“Well, I can live almost normally like this. To me big changes are the ones that might bring immobility, or a cock so large that you need a third leg in your pants to cover it, or muscles so immense you can’t really enter normal-sized buildings,” I commented. Byeong-cheol seemed to imagine these possibilities and I noticed his mouth was dry. “Maybe you want some water?”

“Oh, what? No, I’ve already had plenty of that before,” he responded, and then he slowly slid forward from his seat, getting closer and closer to me, until he raised his hand, which slowly fell until it lay on my knee. “I don’t want you to think I just want to use you, as I’m sure you get a lot of that…” he started.

I interrupt him. “Don’t worry about that, you are our esteemed guest. Use me as you like,” I replied, amused.

“…I see… but I mean, perhaps you’d allow me, I mean, you would give me a show of what it is like to have those modifications, as a test drive of sorts,” he said. I lower my hand on top of his, which was still on my knee, and start dragging it up, and up, and up, towards my crotch—his torso coming closer and closer to me almost as if hypnotized.

“Well, a test-drive would entail you experiencing my body, wouldn’t it, Mr. Park? Rather than you observing the effects of my body, so to say,” I comment. He babbled a little, his hand finally reaching my balls, and his head was close enough that when I looked down and he looked up, we could feel each other’s breath.

“True,” he said. “I hope you can help me with my request nonetheless.” He looked bothered, physically. I smiled and lowered my head.

“I will do my best,” I said, and our lips touched. Suddenly, immediately, his tongue was in my mouth, hungry, and our kiss was deep. Byeong-cheol hugged my neck to keep our connection even as he pulled into my body. Not even five seconds later, we were both standing, both undressed, kissing once more—but now also naked, rubbing our muscles, our cocks stirring up.

Byeong-cheol looked tight, but not much different than a fit natural human so far as muscles went. His dick, however, was clearly a beyond what one’d expect even on a GMH without any transformations—more than 40cm totally hard. Still, it was completely overshadowed by my 150cm-and-growing cock behind him. As we kissed, his hands moved from my neck to my torso, and from holding us closer together to grabbing, squeezing and stroking my muscles. He was hungry for me, and honestly, so was I for him.

“Oh my God, you are incredible,” he said, when we break our kiss to catch some air. By now my dick was rising between his legs, and he brought them closer to rub and tease my manhood.

“I have to say I’m a bit surprised,” I said, bringing my hand down to touch his cock, which throbs when my thumb pulls down its foreskin, revealing its large purple head.

“Hmmm, I did that some years ago. It’s my favorite part of my body,” he said, and somehow it felt a bit sad. We as eggmen had a different relationship with our bodies than natural humans, as we can change them whenever and however we want, pretty much—among us there’s a drive for perfection and full satisfaction, accompanied by a great feeling of insufficiency, sometimes. “That and these,” he said, his hand scrubbing his abs.

When I looked towards his abs, I was surprised to notice that each one of them had a nice red areola and a big plump thumb-sized nipple—meaning Byeong-cheol had a total of 4 pairs of nipples. I must have looked confused, because he laughed and explained:

“I have had this other small, mostly invisible, transformation done more recently. Basically, these two—” Each of his hands started playing with one of the nipples on his pecs. “—make milk that increases your muscles; the ones bellow those grow your cock; the ones bellow those grow your balls, and the ones bellow that increase your energy.” I was shocked by his creativity.

“How does that even work?” I asked, legitimately curious, while my increasingly hard cock now rubbed against his naked ass cheeks. He didn’t seem to care much, however, as his attention was all on my own pecs, which he was now stroking violently with his hands as his own hard cock rubbed against my abs, coating them on precum.

“My body produces some genetically modified hormones, basically, but they work in natural humans as well; their effect is temporary, however, of course,” he said. My eyes widen.

“Is that legal in Korea? Transforming natural humans, even if indirectly?”

“Highly illegal,” he said, with a smile. “But also impossible to trace, since it’s not a permanent change. So please keep it a secret.”

“Can I have it? Your milk, I mean,” I ask, excited. He shook his head.

“I am dry right now; I am rather small and it takes a lot of energy to make milk. Usually, I need to have taken large amounts of some highly nutritious fluid in order to produce sufficient milk for someone to drink,” he said, now rubbing his ass against my growing cock under him, and looking at me pleadingly with his eyes. I smiled, understanding.

My cock throbbed and as it moved up Byeong-cheol’s feet no longer touched the ground. Using both of my arms I then hugged my own cock, sandwiching Byeong-cheol between me and me. I then lay on the couch, Byeong-cheol still sandwiched above my abs and bellow my cock.

“Sit up,” I requested, releasing my hug. He did as I asked and used his strength to force my cock up to the vertical. As he now sat on my abs, Byeong-cheol’s dick was rubbing against my pecs—it was large enough, however, that I could see its head poking above them. Byeong-cheol seemed to like having his dick rubbing against my male tits. He moved his hips so that his rod danced from one side to the other on top of my muscles while also using this position to stroke my male tits hard with both his hands.

“Like them?” I asked, touching my pecs. He nodded, unsatiated. “Want to try fucking them?” His eyes shone bright.

He slowly moved his large hard dick down so as to aim for the space between my large pecs, and then he pushed it into the grand meaty canyon between my large male tits. I liked feeling his spear in there, but the best part was that it was long enough that its head appeared in the other side of my muscle valley—close to my mouth where I engulfed it. Immediately Byeong-cheol jolted, and when I started licking his cock’s head he started hammering his penis in and out of my mouth, fucking my pecs in a swift series of delicious motions.

We continued that for a while, until my own dick throbbed behind him, and started releasing precum which was getting on Byeong-cheol’s back and hair. As much as I loved having his dick in my mouth and licking it, my own dick also needed attention and I was having to use my hips to try to rub my enormous obelisk against Byeong-cheol’s back. When he noticed that, he stopped fucking my pecs and immediately pulled his dick from my mouth, turning the other way so he could face my immense rod. I complained a little.

“I am sorry, but I can’t ignore this wonder,” he replied, hugging my manhood and starting to stroke it as hard as he could. “I can’t let this go to waste,” he said, then standing up on my solid abs, so he could try to reach my cock’s head with his mouth.

I never thought he would manage to do that, however, as my cock—fully hard—was about 10 to 15cm longer than he was tall. Moreover, even if he did reach my cockhead, I didn’t think he’d be able to do much with it, as it dwarfed his mouth in size. But he proved me wrong. Byeong-cheol’s neck stretched up and up and up, until his mouth was level with my cockhead, less than half a meter bellow the ceiling. He then stretched his mouth like an anaconda, and engulfed only my head with it. “‘No visible changes’ doesn’t mean no changes, I guess,” I thought to myself, while his tongue played around my cockhead, as his arms hugged my log, as his whole body rubbed against my obelisk—fundamentally stroking it.

“Byeong-cheol, wait!” I said, but he continued pleasuring me. “I have to cum, and I don’t want to destroy my office!” I protested, but he didn’t stop. I could feel the pressure rising, I could feel my balls preparing themselves; they were hanging out of the couch, gravity itself stretching their large weight (comparable to a jackfruit each) to the ground. It felt really nice.

His tongue around my cockhead also gave me a terrific feeling, his hugging and stroking the shaft taking me to cloud nine. I moaned, softly, when his tongue entered the slit of my cock. Looking at him, I saw his stretched neck, his nice bubble ass. I grunted.

And then I came, abundantly. I thought I’d destroy the room, but a calm and collected Byeong-cheol simply drank it all, not missing a single drop. His belly did extend as more and more of my shots left my slit and entered his system, but he drank it all successfully like a professional—even as I stopped shooting, his tongue was sucking the dribble out of me, washing my cockhead clean. His tongue felt like that of a giant anteater’s, travelling deep inside my cock in order to take all its output.

Only when I had nothing more to give, did he let go of my softening cock. His belly was large, but he seemed fine with it. The next thing he did was to turn back around, now towards my face, and start fucking my pecs again.

“Your body is the most amazing thing I have ever seen,” he said, as he fucked my pecs with his hard cock, my larger softening rod spilling out of the couch onto my office’s carpeted floor, completely dry. “Your jizz has a wonderful taste. I’m going to make so much milk from it; it might even be stronger than usual too—I bet it will taste different.”

He was still hammering his dick in and out of my pec canyon, which was pleasuring. I looked at his nipples and muscles—abs and pecs—and they seemed to be growing, albeit very slowly.

“How long does it take?” I asked him, as he continued to hammer his dick between my male tits.

“Usually two to three hours, but considering you gave me so much cum, maybe twice as much this time,” he replied between moans, a bit distracted as he continued hammering his cock into my pecs.

“So, we’ll have a second round after dinner,” I said, and he increases his speed, his cock’s purple head poking in and out of my pecs on the other side as he slammed his spear between my mountains—so close to my mouth.

“Oh, please! Please allow me, give me some more time with you, so much, so much of you I couldn’t yet explore,” he pleaded, pounding faster and faster, until I took his head into my mouth yet again and he exploded in moans and cum. “My god, my god, my god!”

I felt his orgasm erupting in my mouth—I noticed it tasted a little different than locally sourced cum.

“Don’t flatter me too much,” I said, after swallowing it. Byeong-cheol pulled closer to me, putting his head now to rest on my immense pecs which he had been fucking until so very recently.

“It’s not flattery,” he said, rubbing his head against my skin, breathing in the mixed smell of his dick and my pecs, his hair feeling funny against my skin. “Only a god could make me feel so much so fast,” he said, apparently a bit exhausted.

“A god or a devil,” I said with a smile. I sat up—which forced Byeong-cheol to move with me as well. “And now I must be the devil who tells you to clean yourself and dress up again so we can go to the meeting,” I added, and he sighed. He got off me and I moved towards my desk, opened a drawer, and took out a large white towel, which I then handed to him. “Here, use this to clean my pre from your body.”

“I don’t know how you can do this and still have energy for that,” he complained, taking the towel and starting to use it on himself while still on the couch. The towel absorbed basically all the organic-based liquid dirtying his skin.

“It’s another one of the improvements,” I said, standing up and going to dress myself. “But not forcing my body to transform several liters of cum into milk probably helps.”

He nodded, and then brought his left hand to his overextended belly. “I’ve never been this full. Even after having many men at once, never have I had this much cum,” he observed thoughtfully.

“Well, you did very well for someone with little experience in this weight class, then,” I pointed out. I then finished dressing myself, so I picked up his clothes and throw them to him. “Will they still fit you now with… this belly?” I asked, a little worried—as, otherwise, I’d have to send Gabriel to buy some new clothes urgently.

Unconcerned, Byeong-cheol nodded.

“After I met you in the airport, I came prepared for every situation,” he said, putting up his shirt and then his jacket, which hid his belly almost completely. I smiled, and then moved towards the door, opening it up after he finished getting dressed.

“Okay, then come with me,” I said.

“I will try,” he replied with a smirk. “Lead the way,” he requests, and I do. While we walk back his hands keep “unintentionally” rubbing against my muscles, but nobody around really minds it as this has become a normal phenomenon since I have come to occupy too much space.

We continued talking about more lighthearted subjects in the meeting room before everyone else arrives. When they do join us I make my presentation, and immediately thereafter Cláudia led the first stage of negotiations. We continued on that for more than two hours before we all decided to go have dinner, and I took them to a fancy restaurant for northeastern food.

Dinner went great—we managed to talk about lighthearted subjects while also subtly making some good points which we could later use in the negotiations to try and convince the Koreans to buy processed rather than raw soy. Cláudia and the female Korean staffer were the first to leave, followed by Rodrigo and two of the oldest members of the Korean delegation—except for the director. At 11 p.m. we decided to move to a bar, but almost as soon as we get there José and another one of the Koreans abandoned us—leaving only me, the director, and Byeong-cheol behind to get drunk.

“Your muscles are looking extremely swollen,” said the director to Byeong-cheol, at a point in the evening. I swear Byeong-cheol looked a little bit red, but not exactly surprised, by the comment. “Where did you get that much semen?” he finished the question and then looked towards me.

“Sir, this is a bit inappropriate a topic for such a public place,” I said, while trying to look away from the director. My eyes ended up gazing upon Byeong-cheol’s body, however, and I had to admit he did look swollen—not in the belly really, however, but mostly on his pecs, although his gut still seemed bigger than it was originally.

The director seemed amused.

“Inviting me to your home so soon?” he commented and then laughed—but even being a little tipsy I don’t find it funny. I was actually now looking towards Byeong-cheol, trying to get some clue about what was going on. He seemed a bit embarrassed, before he and the director exchanged some words in their native language.

“No need to be so serious,” the director said to me after they were done. “I already imagined and even hoped you’d have fed Mr. Park, and as I told him just now, I think this is a great opportunity for the three of us.”

My eyes traveled from the director to Byeong-cheol, as I was rather confused by the insinuation.

“I’m sorry, I don’t fully understand what is going on,” I said, and then I suddenly saw through Byeong-cheol’s embarrassed attitude. “Are you two… in a relationship?” I asked, sounding at the same time more aggressive and less aggressive than I had meant to sound. Byeong-cheol was now redder than a beetroot. The director started laughing.

“No, only professionally,” said Byeong-cheol said, mortified. My brain started connecting the dots, and I sighed.

“I see. And you want to include me in your professional relationship?” I ask, and the director nodded, while Byeong-cheol looked away.

“Temporarily, of course. I’d like you to add to our mutually beneficial relationship,” said the director. “If we can agree on the terms, then we all win; if we don’t, then we all lose.”

I listen to him, and scan him again, now with a different thought in mind than before. The director was not ugly, but he was mediocre, a little bit overweight, and although he was in his late 40s he looked like he was in his late 50s or early 60s. I don’t necessarily feel like doing anything with him, not even if it included Byeong-cheol, but for some reason I felt compelled to continue this line of conversation.

“And what are those terms?” I asked, suddenly tapping my fingers on the table impatiently. The director smiled.

“We came for a deal, you get your deal,” he said, looking at me.

“And what’s in it for Mr. Park, sir, if I may ask?” I interrupted rather abruptly. Byeong-cheol’s eyes were wide open and looking towards me. The director cleared his throat.

“Well, we have our own agreement at home,” he said.

“Which is?” I pressed, and the older man realized that he would not be getting anything he wanted without giving me all I wanted.

“Simply put, we have an open position in our branch in the Philippines,” he said, carefully. I sighed—so he wanted a job. It was understandable—not that many eggmen get to positions of power, so one does what one can with what one has. I looked over towards Byeong-cheol, who seemed rather quiet, almost as if he wanted to vanish—embarrassed, maybe? Because his little project had been revealed, I guessed.

“How guaranteed is it?” I asked. The director raised an eyebrow.

“With my recommendation, it is certain,” he replied, and I looked towards Byeong-cheol again.

I stayed silent for a moment, noticing that I was getting too worked up because of this guy I had just met. Trying to straighten my thoughts, I realized that most of my discomfort came from the entitlement of this director, and from a gut feeling that somehow Byeong-cheol was being taken advantage of—despite having absolutely no evidence of that, much to the contrary. Having in mind what he did earlier, he didn’t appear to me to be one of those who thinks of his body as something sacred that can’t be used for profit—and yet…

“I see. Here are my terms, then: tomorrow we’ll give you a price, and you’ll be negotiating it down 5%. We will also negotiate a 2% commission, so the total discount will be of 3%. You’ll also accept to buy 90% totally processed soy, 5% partially processed and 5% raw soybeans,” I said seriously.

The director seemed a bit shocked. “That’s a bit harsh. I need at least 10% discount, and 50% of the soybeans must come raw as we have built a facili—” he started, but I interrupted him.

“I am sorry, sir, but my terms are not open for bargaining. If I am to sell myself to you, it will not be for that cheap—”

I was cut off midsentence by Byeong-cheol standing up and leaving the table. The director was going to say something but I just stood up and went after the one who had already left.

As we passed between the tables, I ended up hitting several people with my large muscles and prominent junk—Brazilian bars were unfortunately too crowded for large GMHs. Some people might have also used this opportunity to rub against me, but I didn’t even register it much, as I had gotten used to bumping with my muscles against people in a daily basis.

When I did catch up to Byeong-cheol, I held his arm.

“Why did you leave like that?” I asked. Looking at his face now, he seemed both drunk and, above all, angry.

“You basically called me a whore in front of my boss,” he said.

“Well,” I said, completely dumbfounded. “If that’s what the agreement sounds like, it is not my fault,” I argued, letting go of his arm. He clenched his fists and hit my powerful pecs, trying to hold in his emotions.

“Fuck you, you think you are so high and mighty but guess what, I didn’t fuck myself this afternoon,” he said, rather loudly. Some eyes were and now ears were now turning our way. “You, this body, doesn’t trick anyone. You wanted attention, and you get it. You sold yourself as much as anyone else,” he spewed.

Suddenly I became pissed. I made a condescending click with my mouth.

“I never pretended not to be what I am, not to do what I do. If you don’t like being reminded that you are a whore, maybe you should behave differently,” I said, and his eyes widened in fury. “I will be selling myself for a deal that will benefit mostly my boss and my employer, you at least will gain a promotion—if anything you are the smartest one of us.” He opened his mouth, as if he was going to say something, but I didn’t let him do it as I speculated, “I just wonder what you got from me earlier today.”

He closed his mouth and looked away. “Fuck off. That was just sex,” he said, and for some reason I felt neither happy nor angry with that answer. A little bitter, though, maybe.

“Good, same for me,” I said, then taking a step closer to him, my pecs almost touching his nose now. “Why don’t we go back and sort out his deal, then, so we can get some ‘just sex’ later on?” I proposed.

He still looked pissed, but with each breath he was further and further inundated by the smell of my muscles, my sweat, my body. And his eyes turn from anger to lust, and back to anger.

“You bribe people with you body,” said Byeong-cheol angrily, and I led the way back to the table.

We arrived at my apartment, and I asked them if they wanted something else to drink. Both refused. I then told them to shower, sending the director to use the guest bathroom, while telling Byeong-cheol to use the main suite’s shower.

“Follow me, I’ll show you where it is,” I told Byeong-cheol, and led him into the hallway, and then into the main suite. I handed him a towel and he thanked me for it.

“Not so fast,” I said, sitting on the bed. “Undress for me, I want to see how your tits look now, full of milk.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if I took a shower first?” he asked.

I shook my head. “If we wait, then your director will finish his shower and come up here. I would rather have some time to take a look alone first, wouldn’t you?”

He looked around, and then removed his jacket.

Simply from removing his jacket Byeong-cheol shows his developed muscles much more—his pecs and abs literally stretching his otherwise normal shirt. I could see his eight nipples were soft, but their volume had increased making them look almost like small soft penises rather than like thumbs, like before. When he took off his shirt, he looked so plump—each of his pecs has ballooned, same for his abs. It looked almost uncomfortable.

“It’s really pretty,” I said, and he looked down.

“I have never been so full of milk,” he said, his arms caressing his pecs. “I fill like any movement will make me lactate.” His caressess became a stroking, picking and playing with his nipples: indeed, a small droplet of milk formed, which was followed by a strong squirt.

“Stop!” I commanded. “Don’t waste it!” I stood up and went towards him. He moved a step back, seeing my large frame jolting towards him, but he isn’t fast enough to stop me from taking his hands from his pecs.

“Okay, you can let me go now,” he said, and I did. He let his arms fall to the side, still seeming bothered by the fullness of his multiple tits, and removed his pants, revealing his large cock once more. It was still soft, but already looking moist. “I’m going to go take a shower, then,” he said, and I nodded.

Before he even entered the toilet, however, I removed all my clothes, and hugged him from behind, lifting him from the ground while he shook his legs.

“It’s the two of us, then,” I said, and run with him towards the shower.

The shower I had in the main suite was a special one: the shower itself covered a whole two square meters, while the showering area was about four square meters, so I could wash all of myself at once—and also comfortably share with someone Byeong-cheol’s size. Without letting go of him I turned the water on, getting us under the shower. Once we were under the warm water, I let go of him, but he stayed close to me so we could share the relaxing cleansing experience.

I took the soap in my hands and started soaping myself.

“I didn’t know you wanted to shower together,” said a suspicious but far more relaxed Byeong-cheol. I laughed, moving from soaping my large pecs to soaping his overblown muscles.

“If all I could Ido tonight is shower with you, I’d do that,” I replied, noticing that Byeong-cheol was moving his body so he could increase the amount of pleasure he got from my hand soaping his bloated muscles, which stored so much milk inside them.

“Your tits are clean now,” I said, when he had all been soaped, and we started washing the bubbles away. Byeong-cheol seemed a little sad for not receiving my hand’s attention anymore, but I just handed him the soap, and said, “Now you help me,” and he was once again smiling.

Byeong-cheol then started soaping my body: first the pecs, once more—where he spent a lot of time spreading the cleansing bubbles between my muscles, and also in their underside, as they were so large as to rub against other muscles. He then moved to scrubbing my abs, and then the back between my butt and my neck. He cleaned my left arm, including my armpit, and then the right arm and armpit. His touch flowed with the water, and it comforted me. The vapor and his attention made me slowly rise to attention.

“Now you have to clean down there,” I said, and Byeong-cheol smiled.

He scrubbed my abs, and then around the root of my cock. As my cock was growing, however, he chose to move to the back and wash my butt. He pulled my butt cheeks up, to the sides and down, cleaning it thoroughly. He washed between them too, making me tremble with his sensitive touch. He then washeed my legs, from the feet up, and in between them. Finally, he scrubbed my balls—that took a while—making my dick stiffen further.

“Now the hardest part,” he said, letting out a small chuckle.

“Want help?” I offered, considering that before I had just stayed there standing bellow the running water, receiving his attention and touch.

“No, I can do it,” he said, and then he started. First step was pulling the foreskin and cleaning the head. He was successful in the first part, using both of his hands to liberate my cockhead, but he had trouble cleaning it. While he scrubbed the monster, it stirred to life and grew so much that even as Byeong-cheol cleaned it he lay against my longness with his torso compressed against it—generating a pressure which made him leak milk out of his eight nipples, coloring the waste water from the shower a light white color.

Soon, the pleasure Byeong-cheol felt from this slight release, plus the amazing smell and sensation of the cockhead so close and touching him, made him start to moan and more and more forcefully rub his body against the head of my cock. I let him, and in fact even incentivize him by thrusting my hips towards his body, so he had more fun almost wrestling the beast.

“Oh damn, it’s so large, I’ll never finish cleaning it,” he complained with delight between moans, more soiling my cock with his milk than cleaning it with his hands. “Yes, yes, the slit!” he added, as his own cock entered my large slit while he haphazardly rubbed his whole torso against my cockhead. The pleasure was so sudden for him that he let go of the soap, which fell to the ground.

As Byeong-cheol hammered his dick in and out of my cock slit, his milk coating the head of my cock due to his rubbing his whole body against my sensitive skin, we grunted and moaned together. Soon, he came inside my cock, and in his pleasure milk squirted from all his nipples, being wasted into the drain. Satisfied, he then rested on my large cock, which was more than large enough for him to rest against it, the warm water of the shower hitting his skin while he started hugging my manhood.

Someone knocked on the suite’s door.

“Hmmm,” said Byeong-cheol, still hugging my size.

“Hey,” I lifted my arm so I could shake him back into his spirits. “Go out there and help the director while I finish cleaning myself,” I said, but he grunted and hugged my hard cock even harder. I bit my lip. “I can’t go out there now,” I complained.

He lifted his head and looked over to me, seeming a little unpleased.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving this for that,” he snorted, standing up from my cock, but giving its slit a soft kiss. He then quickly found the soap and picked it up, his ass pointing towards my immense cock—giving me a nice view of his ass cheeks—before soaping himself and then washing off the bubbles. He then dries himself and, still totally naked, leaves the bathroom.

I soaped and washed myself under the warm water, deciding not to cum alone for now, before I finished my shower in 15 minutes—so I could arrive, as the fancy man I was, a little late to the party.

I left the bathroom to find Byeong-cheol sitting on my bed. What really surprised me, however, was seeing the director naked, drinking from his one of his lower nipples—the one that increase a man’s energy. It was a bit of a weird scene, seeing Byeong-cheol’s boss kneeling in front of him and suckling from his abs-nipples. Nonetheless, it was also interesting, seeing Byeong-cheol apparently in control of the situation.

“Does it taste nice?” I asked, and Byeong-cheol looked at me with a cryptic smile. Meanwhile the director simply let go of the nipple he was sucking and looked at me, sighing and opening his mouth as his eyes devoured my image.

“You are even more impressive than I imagined,” said the director, leading me to smile and flexing my arms and pecs a little to show off.

“Why don’t you try it for yourself?” asked a crafty Byeong-cheol, referring to his milk, and I raised my left eyebrow. I then walked towards him, taking a knee and using my hands to force him to lay completely on the bed before I also bowed over him to suck his upper nipple—the largest one, about as big as a thumb, sprouting from his right pec.

Byeong-cheol moaned as I started sucking on his large nipple, and soon the director also joined me, sucking the left nipple. As we both sucked, Byeong-cheol produced a growing amount of milk which I swallowed. It flowed easily and I felt its sweet flavor and dense texture filling me as it ran down my throat—soon, the heat was emanating from my stomach into the rest of my body, reaching my limbs, and I started feeling hotter and hotter. I continued sucking even as my body overheated—my tongue played with Byeong-cheol’s nipples, and his body rewarded me with his moans and an increased flow of his milk. At the same time, I felt my muscles contracting and expanding, sending small waves of pain and pleasure all over my body that compounded to overwhelm my senses.

“Damn, you are hot!” said the director, whose body was touching my arms as we both suckled on Byeong-cheol’s nipples. He jolted away from me, seemingly surprised, but I continued sucking as that was to me far more important to me than whatever he was doing. “Is this supposed to happen?” he asked. Byeong-cheol shrugged and said something in Korean to the director, who then proceeded to sucking his second pair of nipples: the ones which induced growth to one’s cock.

After sucking Byeong-cheol for a while I look up towards his face and noticed that he was looking down towards me. As the flow of milk from the nipple I was sucking was drying, I decided to move further up—until my face reached his face, and we shared in a deep, passionate kiss. This movement, however, of my body progressively covering Byeong-cheol’s body, forced the director away from Byeong-cheol’s nipples until he was by himself on the side of the bed. Meanwhile, as he was drawn deeper and deeper into our kiss, Byeong-cheol started using his whole body to hump my muscles, his cock sliding over my abs and then hitting my pec several times as we kissed—eventually, his humping picked up speed and he moaned while we kissed, until he finally came, painting our torsos white.

“Almost as juicy as your milk,” I teased the Korean businessmen, finally breaking from our kiss. He became a little flustered, maybe bothered by my overwhelming weight above him—or maybe just impacted by his recent orgasm. I also felt his large cock softening between us, and suddenly the presence of my much larger and harder cock pressed against the floor on the side of the bed—kept in place by the large weight of my own body—came to mind, as it started releasing growing amounts of precum. I smiled and moved again, from being on top of Byeong-cheol to being on his side on the bed. This change also releasesd my hardon from under my weight and allowed it to fly up high. I then flexed my temporarily augmented muscles and my enormous 2-meter hard cock bobbled proudly at around a 45-50 degrees angle from the floor.

“You,” I pointed to the director. “Show me what you can do with my cock,” I challenged. He stood up and moved slowly towards my slit, seemingly anxious, and I shouted: “Don’t disappoint me!” That seemed enough for the older man to then let go of his constraints and to allow his actions to be dominated by his desires—he proceeded to hug my large cockhead, bringing it down with the weight of his whole body, and started to fuck my slit with his 20-something centimeter cock, expanded by Byeong-cheol’s miraculous pecmilk. I felt him fucking my slit, but above all I felt his whole body massaging my much larger cockhead, which was enough to make me relax a little.

“Hmmm, delightful,” I praised the director’s efforts, and then looked to Byeong-cheol, who was laying beside me, noticing him covered in his own cum. I moved my hand towards his cock, which was now only half-hard, and started playing with it until it hardened again. “So, what about you?” I asked, and Byeong-cheol smiled.

“Yes, what about me, indeed?” he replied, with a growing smirk on his face as I stroked his cock. “Do you want to grow your cock now, or your balls?” he asked, his left hand caressing his nipples as he proposed some ideas. I shook my head.

“I want to suck you down there, too,” I said, and Byeong-cheol didn’t react for a second, before he moved up on the bed and released his hardening cock from my grip. He then climbed on top of me, but upside down—he slowly positioned his cock near my face, using one hand to hold his weight away from the bed and the other to hold his large sex rod teasingly close to my hungry mouth and tongue.

“You want this?” he then asked, using his hand to make his cock just barely scratch my nose, twice, teasing me with his smell and heat.

“Hell, yes, give me your hot cock,” I said, opening my mouth as much as I could. Byeong-cheol laughed.

“You are the one who is burning hot,” he replied, as my overheated body literally emanated warmness.

“Just let me suck you dry already,” I ask, sliding my tongue out of my mouth and desperately trying to reach the head of his large cock, which I failed to do because Byeong-cheol pulled his cock back away from me. His balls, large and heavy, meanwhile, were now also dangerously close to my face—dangling just above my eyes, hypnotizing me.

“You’ll have to ask more nicely,” he said, and I smiled, but then what I did next was raise my hands behind and around him, hold his ass cheeks, one in each hand, stroke them and then force them towards me—basically bringing his cock close enough to my mouth that I could force it in exactly in the way I wanted to.

“Fuuuuuck your mouth is so hot,” said a delighted Byeong-cheol, even as the muscles on his legs were trying to resist to my strength pulling him in. Once I had his hardness fully almost fully inside my body, however, and my tongue was licking it, and my throat surrounding it, and my wetness and hotness massaging it, he fell to my desires.

Byeong-cheol’s body then willingly followed my lead and lowered his ass, his long cock penetrating well past my lips, his balls covering my vision with their warm skin. Byeong-cheol joined in pushing his large 46cm flesh-spear into my throat, burying it as deep into me as we could, before I allowed him to pull almost all the way out, after which he plunged his whole length inside me again, and repeated thus successively. Quickly, he picked up speed in hammering his size in and out of my mouth and throat, effectively fucking my face as he buried his own face in my meaty pecs, which he also used as further support to hold his weight as he fucked me. Delighted, lost in the fuckery, Byeong-cheol’s mouth would sometimes tease my pecs by scratching them with his teeth or tongue, when he felt a particularly overwhelming thunder of carnal fulfilment. Soon, our motion took over my whole body, and my muscles were all bouncing in synchrony with his pounding—even my cock, mostly held in place by Byeong-cheol’s boss, was moving forward and backwards alongside Byeong-cheol’s motion.

I moaned, more and more intensively in pleasure, as Byeong-cheol grunted and his cheeks rubbed against my pecs. My balls had responded to this activity by increasing their output, which now overwhelmed Byeong-cheol’s boss—he slipped on my precum, and fell with his ass on the floor. Soon, he was under my cock, which rubbed against his whole body as Byeong-cheol and I moved in synchrony, back and forth, once and again, rocking the whole reinforced bed where we laid. In a matter of moments, Byeong-cheol’s boss, buried under my manhood, had the biggest orgasm he had ever had in his life—humbly contributing to the torrent of sexual fluids that were covering my room.

“Oh, fuck, Zacarias, you love yourself some cock,” said Byeong-cheol while hammering his wood in my throat with such strength that I was almost tearing up in joy. I could only groan in response, but I thought my body shaking in delight was enough reply. As a delightful jolt of pleasure ran through me, my cock spasmed up, rising once again well above the floor, and making my precum fly everywhere, including on Byeong-cheol’s exposed back.

Byeong-cheol’s boss took this opportunity to crawl from under my dick and then onto the bed where he started licking Byeong-cheol’s cum and my precum from my abs. He was slow and thorough in this service, licking every corner of my muscles with attention to the tiniest details, including my bellybutton. Meanwhile, my cock continued to rise, until it rose so tall and hard that it fell on me—or rather, on Byeong-cheol, who was on top of me. The impact of the weight of my massive cock forced Byeong-cheol down, suddenly bringing his cock deeper into me than ever before. As Byeong-cheol’s rod invaded me with unsuspected and unplanned brutality, I grunted in a violent pleasure which filled the room with my voice.

I raised my arms to grab my cock and lift it up, giving Byeong-cheol the space needed for him to once again lift himself and start fucking my mouth once more, while I moaned in pleasure and started stroking my humongous cock with both hands. Soon, however, Byeong-cheol’s face had turned from my pectorals to my one-eyed snake, and so, with his cock initially still buried inside me, he started looking up and moving upwards, until he raised his hands to hug and start stroking my cock—in a few moments, his attention focused solely on my rod, and he was no longer fucking my face. To try to reach my cock better, in fact, he pulled his rod completely out of my mouth.

“How can something be this beautiful?” he said of my cock, while hugging and stroking it, now using his whole body to please my manliness. I grunted in response, missing his cock in my mouth but not wanting to complain as I was enjoying his current activities too much for that.

“It’s designed by experts,” I responded, and Byeong-cheol only picked up speed, before I told him I was close to coming. His boss, who was until then licking my abs, was now looking up towards my shaft, and then moving to hug and lick the underside of my cock near where it meets the balls. “Caraaalhooooo! I won’t take it much longer,” I alerted them both.

And then suddenly, it happened: my balls pumped my spunk, and I exploded. As Byeong-cheol was holding my cock up, my orgasm exploded on the ceiling and the wall far away on the other side of the bedroom. Soon, it was raining cum on Byeong-cheol, on me, and on half the bedroom, and I was still not done.

“No, wait! So much waste!” complained Byeong-cheol, then trying to get his mouth around my cockhead, but only managing to get his face painted in white as my powerful shots didn’t give him much of a change to engulf all my cockhead at once while I came.

When my orgasm slowed down, then Byeong-cheol did start suckling on the cum dribbling from my cockhead, until, after it was sufficiently dry, he let my softening cock fall on the bed, and then came down close to me again, kissing my lips for a second, then kissing my chin, and then my neck, and then all the way down until he came to my pecs, which he kissed many times over. He eventually ended on my right nipple, which he gave a good lick.

“The only way you could be hotter is if you got yourself a pair of those nipplecocks,” he commented, before returning to kissing and licking my right nipple. I laughed.

Byeong-cheol and the director slept at my house for the night, before I took them to the hotel very early in the morning—our excuse was that we had barhopped almost until dawn, if anyone had asked us, which they didn’t. The rest of the day went on more or less as expected—we had more negotiations and presentations from both sides, and generally I thought we were very convincing as the Korean team didn’t seem to be that aggressive in their positions. We also went had lunch in a nice Arab restaurant, chosen by Rodrigo, and, after lunch, I was happy to see Byeong-cheol’s boss being quite agreeable to our propositions—which made me confident that he’d follow through with his part of the agreement. If he didn’t, of course, I had some insurance—some CCTV videos that I had saved during our first night that I would delete after the deal was signed.

Byeong-cheol got off the plane and turned on his cellphone once again. He took a look at the hotel’s information, told the address to the taxi driver and barely exchanged a word with him during the route—he was lost in his thoughts and feelings. Once he arrived at his destination, he went to the check-in and was given the directions and keys to room 1932, to which he went without losing a single moment. He even took the stairs instead of the elevator, just because he didn’t want to wait for the machine to pick him up in the ground floor.

Arriving in front of the door of room 1932, however, he stopped for a second, as if to try to gather his courage and organize his feelings once more. When he felt sufficiently collected, he opened the door and found the room surprisingly empty and unsurprisingly impersonal. He went deeper in the room and found bags and backpacks in a corner, and then noticed clothes thrown over the large king size bed—the clothes, just like the bed itself, were oversized; or, rather, perfectly fitted to a much larger-than-average man.

“Byeong-cheol?” asked the familiar voice of Zacarias, coming out of the bathroom still wet, with his beautiful naked body on full display—the large towel was being used by the man not to cover his innocence, but to dry his hair. “Do you want to take a shower?” asked the Brazilian man. The Korean shook his head, and that made Zacarias smile before the walked towards Byeong-cheol.

Byeong-cheol felt his resolve shake. Zacarias’s body had remained the same size since he last saw him: 227cm in height, almost as many kilograms of pure muscle and a few more in cock. His face continued to be handsome; his smile was still enough to make Byeong-cheol’s cock harden; his pecs were hard as ever, except now they were crowned by two beautiful and long nipplecocks—something Byeong-cheol knew Zacarias had changed because of him. More dangerous yet, all this hotness was attached to Zacarias’s kind warm eyes, which seemed to shine from just seeing him there, in front of them.

Yes, Byeong-cheol’s heart skipped a beat when he saw Zacarias, even now after five years.

Over this time, Byeong-cheol had made several changes to his body and lifestyle to accommodate his lover—his body, his needs, his career, and their long-distance relationship. But the one thing he couldn’t change was his heart. Byeong-cheol’s heart still beat faster when Zacarias got close to him, and he still lost his train of thought when he noticed that the droplets of water on Zacarias’s skin were reflecting the hotel’s cheap lights and turning them into a spectacle of colors and shadows—”But still,” Byeong-cheol sighed. “still, as much as I love and want him, we don’t want to go to the same place.”

As Zacarias walked towards Byeong-cheol, the larger man’s cock bobbed and hardened in anticipation, forcing the naked man to push it to the side with one of his hands so it would be out of their way when he pulled his lover in for a hug and a kiss—surprisingly, however, when Zacarias’s other arm did try to pull Byeong-cheol in for a hug, the other man looked to down, denying Zacarias’s lips contact with his own.

“Did something happen?” Zacarias asked, looking down towards his lover, whose face rested on his pecs, his cheeks touching his sensitive and muscular frame almost close to his hardening nipplecocks.

“Yes, Zac. We need to talk about that,” said Byeong-cheol, pulling away from Zacarias and sitting on the large bed in the middle of the room. Zacarias suddenly felt hyperaware of their size difference and of his hard person-sized cock, which made him feel both a little uncomfortable and a little vulnerable—on the one hand, he felt an undue power, and on the other, he felt completely exposed. He, thus, decided to sit on his own legs while remaining completely naked, sitting directly on the floor, so his face would be more or less level with Byeong-cheol’s eyes.

“Okay, I’m all ears,” Zacarias said, with a mix of high and low expectations. He had actually wanted to kiss and fuck Byeong-cheol as soon as possible, and talk later over dinner or something, but he was fine with doing things the other way around too—as long as they did both talking and fucking, he was fine either way. Something did feel wrong, though, from the tone of Byeong-cheol’s voice, which worried Zacarias a little—but only a little, as he was trying to work up his self-confidence to eventually tell Byeong-cheol something important.

“Zac, you know I love you, but I have been thinking a lot about us, about our relationship and our future,” said the other man, sitting on the bed. Zacarias nodded, expectantly. “…and, when I think about it now, recently, I can’t avoid but realize that our goals are… not the same anymore,” he completed, and Zacarias’s eyebrows both moved up in surprise, and he opened his mouth although he was at a loss of words. Zacarias then babbled something before he could organize his thoughts, caught completely by surprise.

How does he even know? Zacarias thought to himself, before he could calm down a little to reply.

“Byeong… I was hoping that our expectations could… slowly change together. But if we are in different places, we can just continue as we are now. I can live with that,” said Zacarias, slowly, trying to find a way to control the situation. Actually, he was freaking out in his mind, but he was trying to behave calmly and rationally, as he wanted to maximize the chances of their relationship not ending then and there. Byeong-cheol sighed.

“I am sorry, Zac, but that’s exactly what I don’t want,” said Byeong-cheol, putting his hand on Zacarias’s left shoulder. “I love you, I really do, but I want to move forward and I need a partner who is willing to go there. I always dreamed of having a family, and I can’t do that if I continue focusing my energy on a relationship that won’t go there.”

Zacarias heard those words and they cut him deep. He closed both his hands in a fist out of frustration, and, angry and hurt, he moved both his arms to the side of his body, unattentively releasing his cock from its place to his right, away from their sight—where it had been kept by his right hand. His cock, which had become half-hard by this point, then bobbed up to the left and rested standing half up between the two men, not allowing them to see each other’s faces.

“I also want a family, Byeong. Why can’t we move in that direction together? If all you want is a relationship that has a future, why can’t it be ours?” asked Zacarias, his voice hurt. Byeong-cheol took his hand from the larger man’s shoulder and moved it to his shaft, slowly starting to caress the side of Zacarias’s hardening cock.

“We could, if we both shared that goal,” said the man sitting on the bed. Zacarias moves his left hand up, and uses it to hold Byeong-cheol’s left hand between it and his hard cock.

“You want to have a family; I want that too. What else do we need? I want to move that way with you,” Zacarias asked, and suddenly Byeong-cheol’s hand stopped stroking. He pulled it away, and for the first time in a long while—even when he was thousands of kilometers away from his boyfriend—Zacarias felt alone, his increasingly large cock rising like a great barrier, dividing him from Byeong-cheol, but at least allowing him to hide his red eyes.

“Zac,” said Byeong-cheol’s soothing voice. “What do you mean? You are not saying that just because I said I want to move forward, are you?”

“You talk as if you didn’t know me,” Zacarias said, a bit angry. “You know I’m not that shallow. Yes, I love having sex with you when we can find time to see each other, but I wanted to try moving forward in our relationship. Fuck, I even…” started Zacarias, before he swallowed his manly tears and continued, with his voice completely neutral. “I even asked to be transferred to Japan so we could be, you know, closer at least. Maybe start seeing each other once a week rather than every three months, maybe more, in the future. Move…move in together.”

Byeong-cheol then moved both his hands, grabbed Zacarias’s enormous now hard cock, and pushed it to the left, revealing their faces to each other—to Zacarias’s surprise, Byeong-cheol was tearing up.

“Zac, you really mean it?” he asked, hopeful. “I thought you wanted to continue our relationship as it is, seeing each other a few times a year and that was it—little commitment. You never reacted much when I told you my attempts to transfer to Latin America failed.”

“I am sorry I couldn’t… I didn’t manage to express my feelings to you. I… I was very disappointed but I was also determined to try doing something myself, seeing how bad you were when your attempts failed I decided to only tell you about mine when it was confirmed, if it worked out. But I was going to tell you this weeked, I swear. I was afraid you didn’t feel quite so strongly as I about it, though, so I was just going to tell you about my transfer and see how things developed from there…” Zacarias said, speaking slowly to control any undue emotional demonstration.

Byeong-cheol then jolted from the bed, hugging the huge muscular stud on the neck.

“Fuck! I am sorry I didn’t just ask you or tell you about my feelings before. I guess I was too insecure because you are just so hot, and our relationship being long distance I…” Byeong-cheol started, before being interrupted by the larger man, whose cock, now released from the smaller man’s grip, was rubbing against Byeong-cheol’s body.

“I always took our relationship seriously, long distance or not,” responded Zacarias, before using his cheek to caress Byeong-cheol’s head, until their lips met and they kissed.

“Fuck,” said Byeong-cheol after a while, panting and breaking their kiss. “I am so hard for you.”

Zacarias laughed, as his immense hard cock slowly covered his lover (and their hotel room) in his precum, and both his nipplecocks stood erect, covering his pecs on his juices.

“I am hard for you three times over, Byeong.”

Update posts:
Weekly Update: 18 December 2021Weekly Update: 1 January 2022Weekly Update: 8 January 2022

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