Muscle island

by Anonymous

Father Basil gets shipwrecked on a strange Pacific island.

When Father Basil Hughes awoke, he had the barest memories of the horrible typhoon that he and the crew of the HMS Londonderry had ventured into. The furious storm proceeded to break apart the large ship and sent the crew and passengers scurrying for their lives. Basil had been lucky to grab onto a large piece of wood, but the others weren't fortunate. Basil wept for a moment thinking of the poor men who drowned before he opened his eyes to see where he landed.

He felt the sand under his hands and the heat of the sun on his back drying his cassock to his skin. He stood up weakly and viewed his surroundings. The beach was wide with white sand which led to thick vegetation. There were as many palm trees here, it seemed, as on all of the Sandwich Islands, which is where his recent mission had taken him to educate the savages about God. Further in the distance, still on the beach, he noticed what appeared to be a statue. He walked to it, noticing he'd lost his shoes. The statue was that of a man, but not of any man he'd ever seen in real life. The face was that of a native islander, with big lips and a wide nose. But the body was like that of a god. The stone statue could put Samson to shame. Shoulders as wide as Atlas', arms bigger than a woman's waist, a chest so large it could be used as a shelf. Basil looked down to see legs so wide they couldn't be human, and neither could the penis or tesitcles. Bigger than a stallion's, the stone penis reached down to just above the man's knee.

Basil was stunned by this find. Who could have carved this statue? Was the island inhabited, or had it been abandoned? Basil couldn't understand what was going on, and sat on the sand trying to think if this island was on any map he'd seen. Surely an island like this would be known to the many explorers who'd be charting the Pacific. But he couldn't recall hearing of this place. If it was inhabited, what language did they use? He'd learned some Polynesian on his trips to other islands, but no one would know the King's English. Would anyone find him, or would he be destined to live his life the way Daniel DeFoe had written about Robinson Crusoe?

He heard a noise in the brush behind him, and Basil quickly stood up and turned to see a man standing with a machete in his hand. Fear spread through him, as he not only noticed the weapon, but the man looked exactly like the model for the statue. Except for a loincloth covering his genitals, he was completely naked and magnificently muscled. His brown skin shone with sweat, and his long black hair reached his wide shoulders. They looked larger than cannonballs split in half. His powerful chest looked mightier than a bull's, and the crevasse between could hide a hand. Veins spread over his body like rivers on a map, and his paper-thin skin showed every muscle in detail like a drawing from DaVinci. Michelangelo could not have sculpted a more perfect looking man.

Basil tried to keep a brave face as he thought he would now be killed, but he was surprised when the man ran up to him and knelt before him. He began speaking quickly and bowing before him. Basil could make out some of the words, thinking they were a form of Polynesian. It seemed to him the man was saying he was expected. The man stood and beckoned him to come with him. Basil was still afraid, but couldn't help be intrigued by the idea that he was expected.

As they walked, Basil found other statues along the way, all of which looked similar to the one he found on the beach, but each one had small changes, usually in the facial area. One might have a mustache, or a beard, the next bare-faced. But all had the same mighty musculature and similarly sized genitals. Eventually he walked into a clearing, where a group of men gathered around a large boiling pot. The men were all as massively muscled as the man who'd brought him here, and Basil was afraid he'd been captured by a group of cannibals. He almost began crying again, until they saw him, at which point they all dropped to their knees. All but one, who walked over to him and bowed at the waist. The man began speaking, and Basil found out he was their, for lack of a better word, leader.

Basil spoke to the leader with the Polynesian he could remember, and the men were stunned by this white man who could speak like them. He asked who they were, and why they "expected" him. The leader said they were part of a warrior tribe who'd been warring with a nearby island when the boat they were on was thrown off course by a storm. They landed on this island, and have been here ever since. Basil asked how long, and the chief said he had no idea. Basil asked why they believed he was supposed to come, and the chief told another man to stand up and join them. The second man told him he'd had a dream of a man dressed in black with hair the color of light—Basil thought of his white-blond hair—who was a messenger from God. The man was to come from the sea and join them on the island and become one with them.

Basil wasn't sure what this man meant, but he was happy to know that these men weren't violent and were willing to welcome a stranger into their midst. He believed these men were willing to hear the word of God and was sure he could convert them. His thoughts were interrupted when the leader said he must join them in a feast tonight to welcome him. Basil agreed, now thinking of how hungry he was, and the chief led him to a hut where he could rest. Basil laid on the cot and quickly fell asleep, and the chief told his men to go find the special fruit that turned them into the men they are so that the same would happen to the messenger. The men smiled as they thought about tonight, and what they knew would happen. None of them ever forgot tasting the fruit for the first time, or the wonderful consequences.

When Basil woke, the sun had just set. The leader was sitting in a chair next to him and told him the feast was ready for him to join. Basil walked out, where the men sat in a circle with a large variety of food in the center. He counted eleven men, which made him the twelfth. The smell of everything made his mouth water. As he joined the men, the chief offered him a drink inside a coconut shell. He drank some of the coconut milk mixed with papaya juice, then offered it to his host, who drank the rest. Soon the other men began offering him the other fruit and fish, which Basil shared with everyone. Basil enjoyed the simple feast, which was topped off by the leader offering him the final fruit, one unlike any he'd ever seen. The color of the flesh was a deep purple, with small yellow seeds. Basil asked the leader what it was called, and the leader told him they call it the fruit of life. It smelled like roses and lavender, and when Basil ate it he almost swooned. Heaven! The leader offered more, and Basil ate them as quickly as the leader offered.

As Basil finished eating the last one, a strangely exciting feeling began surging through his body. His body tingled all over, from his head to his toes, and he felt intoxicated, although nothing he ate or drank had the taste of alcohol. He found himself staring at the men in the firelight, and began thinking how wonderful those muscles looked. He was shocked by this thought, as he knew of the sinful things the sailors sometimes did with each other when away from the prostitutes in every port. They'd confess to him, and he had to forgive their sins. Basil himself had never had any kind of sexual experience, proud of his chastity when he entered the priesthood. But now, alone with these incredible visions of masculinity, he began thinking of what these men have had to do for sex. He saw no women on the island; could these men be enjoying each other? And could they be as large genitally as the statues proclaimed them?

Suddenly, the leader grabbed Basil's face and pressed their lips together. The leader opened his mouth slightly, and Basil followed his motions. The leader slipped his thick tongue into Basil's mouth, and Basil did the same. After a minute, they let go, and Basil knew he wanted to lose his virginity with these virile studs. One of the men slipped off his loincloth and stood before Basil. Basil stared at the man, shocked at the size of the penis that jutted from his groin. It was longer than the King's scepter, and thicker than his own wrist. Basil was unsure what to do, until the man pressed his erection against Basil's mouth. Basil knelt before the man and opened his mouth. The huge penis slid inside, and Basil began to suck on it instinctively. He reached up and grabbed the leathery shaft with both hands, unable to reach his fingers around it. He pulled back the skin and felt the warm, spongy head. It tasted clean, yet salty. Basil reached further down and hefted the large testicles with one hand. He squeezed gently, and the man moaned lustfully. The man thrust his erection further into Basil's mouth until he reached the throat. Basil was afraid he might choke if the man shoved it in, but he was so lost in lust he didn't care. The man proceeded to guide the giant penis further, and Basil was stunned by the feeling it gave him. Down and down the erection went until the man's pubic hairs were tickling Basil's nose. The man pulled out until the head was in Basil's mouth, giving him a chance to take a breath before the man shoved it back down his throat. The man kept this up for several minutes until Basil gave his testicles a hard squeeze. The man shouted and Basil felt the erection swell bigger. He felt it spasming, shooting hot semen into his stomach. The man pulled his erection out until the head was left. Basil now tasted the semen, and was stunned to find it tasted exactly like the fruit he'd just eaten.

Another man quickly took the first man's place, and thrust an even larger penis into Basil's face. He quickly took this one and began to suck on it, giving the man the same sexual pleasure as the first. Within minutes, the second man ejaculated, and he was replaced by a third, then a fourth. As Basil sucked the fifth penis, he began feeling something else. His body felt like it was changing. He'd feel his chest tighten, then his arms, legs, penis. His pants were wet with his own semen that had spurted from several erections of his own. This new feeling made him feel even more sexual. When he was finished drinking the semen from the fifth penis, he looked down and saw his chest jutting through his ripped cassock. Could it be that his chest had grown? He quickly stood up and took the rest of his clothes off, and found to his wonderment that his muscles had started to grow as large as theirs. His arms seemed to have doubled in size, and his chest jutted so that he needed to look over them to see his feet. When he looked over, he saw his legs had grown so thick that he had to spread his feet apart in order to stand. And his penis…he gaped in shock as his once small penis now lay more than halfway down his legs. His testicles were the size of oranges.

The leader told him not to stop, as his growth wasn't finished. He went on to the sixth, seventh…all the way to the tenth. He kept growing stronger, larger, more like them with every minute. The only man left was the leader, and he stood up and removed his loincloth. No wonder he was the leader, Basil thought. The leader possessed the biggest penis of all, one that when erect stood so far high as to reach his chin. Basil didn't even kneel as his bent at the waist and sucked the leader's monstrous erection. The leader had been so aroused watching the previous action that his own orgasm took only a couple of minutes. As Basil drank the last drops of semen, the growth he'd undergone suddenly quickened, and Basil screamed with intense pleasure. The men watched Basil's muscles expand and his skin thin. Veins began bulging from under the white skin. His penis erected and grew further and further upward, growing almost as big as the leader's. The leader grabbed Basil's penis and began stroking it softly. Basil growled as the leader took the head of the penis into his mouth and gently sucked on it. The growth had taken so much out of him that he was too weak to thrust. He felt the orgasm build inside him, and when the leader caressed his coconut-sized testicles, he couldn't contain himself. He shouted as the leader took his mouth off the penis and it began erupting volcanically with white semen shooting several feet into the air. Some landed in his mouth, and again he tasted the fruit of life in his semen.

The rest of the night Basil found himself being worshipped by all the men. All sucked his penis at least once, and some asked to be sodomized anally, which Basil was more than happy to do. Basil himself asked to have the same act done to him, and the leader was more than happy to oblige. Basil screamed with pain the first time his rectum was opened by the giant erection, but Basil enjoyed the feeling afterward so much that every man had a chance at his anal orifice. Basil awoke the next morning to hear hammering outside. He woke up and stroked his huge muscles, loving the feeling of size under his fingers. When Basil entered the clearing, he saw a large piece of stone being worked on by several men. Basil saw the leader overseeing this, and asked his what was going on.

The leader told him he was now one of them, and as such a statue resembling him would be created. Basil smiled as he thought of this, and knew he'd found paradise.

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