When it comes to the superpower lottery, there a some abilities that are pretty much guaranteed to turn you into a supervillain.
Added: Mar 2020 6,698 words 12,025 views 4.5 stars (8 votes)
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Marshall stared at the sculptures displayed in the museum as he aimlessly strolled around. There were so many statues depicting nude dudes with small dicks. Why couldn’t he have been born in an era where that was seen as hot? He would have fit in back in ancient Rome.
Marshall sighed dejectedly as he rounded another corner. He had long since lost track of his classmates, but that hardly mattered. He didn’t really care about what the tour guide had to say. He was fine by himself, and it wasn’t like he really had any friends in the class that he wanted to hang out with. There was one guy that Marshall kind of liked, but he knew better than to try and talk with him. There was just no way that Gabriel would be interested in a tubby little loser like him. If only he was hot, Gabriel would want to be with him. If only he had a big enough dick, Gabriel would gladly make out with him. It was these thoughts that plagued him as he wandered aimlessly through the museum.
Marshall paid no attention to where he was going or what doors he passed through. He hadn’t even noticed the “off limits” signs or the “employees only” sign on the door. It wasn’t until he heard the soft sound of someone moaning that he started to snap out of his melancholy and take in his surroundings.
Marshall peered around the corner, and there he saw them—the school jerk, Ross… and Marshall’s own unrequited crush, Gabriel. Marshall stared in muted awe for a moment as a multitude of emotions came crashing down on him. Gabriel was even hotter once his clothes were off. The sweat glistened on the fit boy’s lithe, muscular body, and Gabriel’s rock hard, massive cock stood straight up at attention. Gabriel’s huge, full balls swung heavily back and forth in time with the rhythmic pounding that his ass was taking from Ross’s own thick cock.
Marshall wanted to scream in rage. He wanted to cry in frustration. It just wasn’t fair! Gabriel was supposed to be his! How did that asshole Ross get him!? Marshall knew how… It was his body… and his cock… Ross was hot as hell and even Marshall had to begrudgingly admit that.
Marshall tore off running in the opposite direction. He could barely hold back the rage and frustration welling up inside of him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to break something!
Marshall turned to the nearest object and flung it as hard as he could. The small lamp crashed against the far wall and exploded into a hail of tiny shards. The act of violence felt good. The sound of glass shattering was music to his ears. For a brief fleeting moment Marshall felt strong… but it did not last. As soon as the noise of shattering glass dissipated Marshall felt his rage and frustration welling up inside him once more. He could smash all the lamps he wanted, but it wouldn’t change what he was.
Marshall turned and kicked the large crate next to him as hard as he could. It didn’t budge an inch, but his foot felt like it had shattered. Marshall collapsed to the floor and began howling in pain all the while he continually slamming the heel of his other foot into the crate with all his might. His pain just fueled his frustration which just stoked his rage.
Suddenly the side panel of the crate came loose. The side fell open, and large amounts of hay spilled out. Marshall wasn’t paying any attention to this though. He was still raging and screaming against his poor fortune. He didn’t even notice the small relic tumble out of the box nor did he notice the relic begin to glow with an unearthly red light.
“Yes… this rage… I can use this…” A sinister voice hissed.
“Whuh? Who’s there?” Marshall mumbled between sniffles.
“Boy. I see what you wish. You want muscles. You want a big cock. You want power. You covet these things.” The voice hissed.
“What…?” Marshall muttered.
“Don’t play dumb with me, boy. I have seen it in your heart. Such rage. Such envy. You amuse me.” The sinister voice chuckled.
“It’s just not fair!” Marshall howled.
“Is it not?” The voice asked.
“No! Why does Ross get a huge dick! Why does Ross get a nice body! Why does Ross get Gabriel!” Marshall wailed.
“Sniveling brat.” The voice hissed. “If you want these things, just take them!”
“…take … them…?” Marshall murmured.
“Yes… Come to me. I have the powers you seek.” The voice hissed.
“What do I have to do…?” Marshall asked.
“Take the power I can offer you. Use the power to take what you want from others. That is the order of this world. The strong take from the weak. You want something? Then TAKE! IT!” The voice roared.
Marshall staggered to his feet. He wiped the tears from his bleary eyes and looked for the source of the voice. It didn’t take him long to spot the source. An oblong relic lay on the floor beside him. The blood red runes etched onto the side of it glowed with an infernal light. Marshall’s hands shuddered as he reached for it. With each passing second, with each inch his fingers drew closer to the object the voice began to chant louder and louder, “Take it! Take it! TAKE IT! TAKE! IT!”
Marshall clamped his hands down on the relic and lifted it to his face. He could feel the heat emanating from it, but nothing seemed to be happening.
“How do I get the power?” Marshall pleaded.
Suddenly the side of the relic split open down the center. The sides of it folded back revealing an infernal eye tucked inside. The eyelids of the demonic eye squinted shut and curved upwards like a pair of lips curling into a menacing sneer. “You want my power!?” The eye asked. The eyelids moved like lips as it snarled out the words. “If you want my power then take it. Prove your worth. Prove your desire. Prove your greed. Prove your envy. Prove yourself worthy of the powers of Covetous Vile!” The presence roared.
The runes on the relic exploded with bright light. A blistering heat spread through the demonic relic, but Marshall refused to let go. He wanted the power. He wanted it more than anything. Even as the tears filled his eyes he held onto it. He stared directly into the demonic eye and shouted. “I will take the powers! They are mine! I will have them!”
“Yessss… Take it! Take what is yours!” The voice hissed.
“It is mine! It is mine! I will have what is mine!” Marshall screeched at the rock. The pain was so intense that he couldn’t even see anymore. The blistering heat spread from his hands and began to permeate his whole body. It was as if every inch of his flesh was being seared away in the flames of hell, but still he held on. He had never wanted anything so badly, and he wouldn’t let anyone, man or demon, deny him what he wanted.
Finally the pain got to be too much. Try as he might he couldn’t hold on. Marshall slumped forward and collapsed back onto the floor. The relic slipped loose of his hands and his the ground with enough force to reduce it to powder. Marshall stared at the pile of dust that was once his ticket to power and slowly slipped out of consciousness…
Some time later, Marshall came to his senses. He looked around the room, but he saw no trace of the relic he had held before. Even the pile of dust left when it crumbled had faded. Marshall sighed dejectedly. Of course it was too good to be true. Nothing ever went right for him. He could feel the tears welling up again. He just knew he was about to start crying, but he could do nothing to stop it. As the tears began to flow from his face, he raised his hand to his eyes to try and rub them dry. It was then that he noticed something odd.
Right in the middle of his palm was a large glyph which looked much like a sinister eye. The rune was seared straight into his flesh. Judging from the scarring it had to have happened ages ago, but he had never seen these scars before in his life.
His jaw dropped as the realization dawned on him. These marks were from the demon. He had been granted the power, and with this power he planned to take what he wanted.
Marshall clambered to his feet and marched off towards where he saw Ross and Gabriel. He figured if he hurried he could still catch them. As Marshall stomped through the museum, he noticed that his clothes clung to him in odd ways. He glanced down and saw that he was drenched in sweat, but that wasn’t the oddest part. His clothes were incredibly loose. He stopped to check out his body and realized that he was skinny as a rail. All the pounds of flab had melted away. No doubt the demon had a hand in this as well.
Marshall’s curiosity got the better of him. As much as he wanted to track down his two classmates, there were more pressing matters. He glanced down, pulled back the waistband of his pants, and sighed. His dick was just as tiny as he remembered. He may not be fat anymore, but he was still a weak, mini-dicked loser.
“You want what they have!?” The sinister voice hissed once more.
“Yes!” Marshall replied.
“You know what you have to do.” The voice hissed.
“I will take what is mine.” Marshall replied solemnly.
Marshall continued his search. Fortunately it didn’t take long. Ross and Gabriel were right where he had seen them last and they were still going at it like a couple of bunnies. Seeing his crush lying in the floor in a moaning, sweating heap with Ross’s fat cock buried in his ass was enough to send Marshall’s rage back into overdrive. That was supposed to be him plowing Gabriel’s hot ass. That was supposed to be his cock. Gabriel was supposed to be his!
Marshall lunged forward. He didn’t have any idea what he was going to do, but he just knew he needed to have what they had, and he had every intention of taking it. His palms burned. It was as if his new scars were aching to feel that hot, sexy exposed flesh, and Marshall was not about to disagree. He latched his hands around the two lovers’ ankles. The second his palms made contact with their bare flesh, a wave of euphoria washed over him. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but Marshall knew that he liked it.
The sudden intrusion snapped Ross and Gabriel out of their fervent fucking. “What the… What are you doing here!?” Ross yelped.
“Wait… Marshall? Why are you…?” Gabriel murmured.
Ross then seemed to notice the hungry look in Marshall’s eyes and the deathgrip Marshall had on their ankles. “Ugh. Let go of me, you creep.” Ross grumbled. He tried to shake Marshall off, but that didn’t seem to be working so he tried a different approach. He aimed a kick straight at Marshall’s face and tried to stun the creeper, but his kick didn’t seem very effective. Something felt off… it was almost as if he was weaker than he knew he should be.
Marshall stared on. He couldn’t fight the manic glee that was welling up inside of him, and he didn’t even try. A vicious cackle escaped his throat as he stared at the two lovers. The changes had already begun. The changes were still ever so slight, but Marshall could definitely see it happening before his very eyes. The defined contours of Ross’s lithe, shapely muscles were slowly softening. The trenches of his deep cut eight pack abs were slowly growing shallower. The cleavage between his huge, firm, shapely pecs was slowly smoothing over. His muscles were dwindling by the second, but that wasn’t all that was shrinking.
Marshall glanced back and forth between the two guys. The effects were hitting them both evenly. Gabriel had gone from looking like he could be a linebacker to looking like a lithe runner in under a minute, but the part that really fascinated Marshall was what was going on between the two dudes’ legs.
Marshall watched intently as Gabriel’s once magnificent, massive cock slowly shrunk. The shaft thinned ever so slightly. His schlong shortened just a hair with each passing second. His nuts pulled upwards and grew smaller by the second. It had only been a minute and Gabriel’s once proud footlong was closing in on six inches. Gabriel was similarly affected. The tip of his rigid dick once reached past his belly button, but now the tip of his dick just barely reached the lowest row of quickly-fading abs.
Ross tried to kick at Marshall again, but this time his foot didn’t reach near far enough. It didn’t make sense. His legs had been plenty long before, but now it was as if Marshall was further away even though none of them had moved.
Ross became aware of other strange things around him. Marshall looked bigger than before… a lot bigger! Ross glanced around the room. It wasn’t just Marshall. Everything looked bigger, and they seemed to be growing by the second.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” Ross sputtered. He tried to pull away. He tried to thrash, but he couldn’t shake loose.
Marshall cackled even harder than before as he watched the panic well up in Ross’s eyes. Watching them struggle was much more fun than he had expected, but it was useless. They were already so small that Marshall’s hand no longer covered just their ankles. Marshall’s grip latched down on the entire lower halves of their legs.
Marshall could feel the energy growing within him. The two boys were shrinking faster. They were growing weaker faster. Their cocks were dwindling faster. Already they looked slim and slender. There was hardly any trace of muscle on their tiny forms, and their once huge cocks had shrunken considerably as well. Gabriel’s majestic cock which once dangled halfway down his thighs when it was soft was now a pathetic little nub between his legs. His once huge, low hanging nuts were now little bigger than the tip of his thumb and pulled up tight against his crotch.
Marshall let go of their legs just long enough to snatch them by the torsos instead. He lifted the two dudes up to his face and watched them writhe and shrink. They were now the size of Barbie dolls and hung only slightly better than Ken.
Marshall cackled as he watched them continue to shrink down smaller and smaller. With each passing second their legs dangled below the edge of his fist less and less. With each passing second their already skinny frames grew slimmer and slimmer. Soon they got to be so small that their heads and feet vanished into his clenched fist.
Marshall waited a few seconds and savored the feeling of the two guys thrashing in his closed fists. He could feel them growing smaller and weaker by the second. Eventually curiosity got the better of him. He turned over to the desk next to him and dropped the two boys onto the desktop.
Ross and Gabriel were little more than three inches tall. They had been reduced to the size of G.I. Joe action figures, but they were far skinnier than any Joe commando Marshall had ever seen. Their tiny forms were devoid of any muscle. Their slim, slender bods were so cute that it was hard to believe that these two had once been the beefiest, hottest pair of guys the school had ever seen.
Marshall snickered as he stared at Gabriel’s exposed cock. What had once been the largest dick the school had ever seen was now a pathetic little nub nestled between his scrawny thighs. The whole package—balls and all—were smaller than even Gabriel’s shrunken fingertip. His pathetic, tiny little nub of a cock sat atop two equally pathetic, ridiculously tiny testes that were pulled up high and tight against his crotch, and Ross was even worse off. Gabriel had waited for a few seconds longer to savor sapping Ross of his strength and size. Ross stood a little under half an inch shorter than Gabriel, and his dick was even more pathetically tiny. His balls were nearly microscopic by this point.
Marshall stroked his hardened cock as he stared at the two reduced dudes. He couldn’t believe they had once been so huge, so hot… but now they were pathetic. They were weak. They were tiny. He had taken it all from them, and it had felt… amazing.
Marshall noticed something odd. His cock filled his palm better than before. He excitedly pulled back the waistband of his shorts and checked out his little stiffy. Sure enough it was just a bit bigger than before. His rock-hard mini-dick used to cap out just shy of three inches, but now it was closer to four.
Marshall glanced over at his arm and watched it as he gave it an experimental flex. Sure enough his once lanky arm now had a very small, but very noticeable, sinewy bicep which bulged up before his eyes. Marshall cackled once more. He had a long way to go before he had what he could consider a decent sized cock and he needed a lot more muscle mass before he would be satisfied, but he had all the time in the world and an entire city full of hot guys to sap of their assets.
Marshall’s plan was simple enough. He’d seek out the big, beefy bullies; the asshole jocks; the huge, hung, arrogant jerks—the people the world would be better off without and had the most to drain to feed Marshall’s need for size. For the first day or two it had gone fine, but he was getting frustrated. Each drain only netted him a few inches of height, a few pounds of muscle, a few millimeters of cock. He wanted more. He needed more. His palms ached to drain more people .He shuddered at the mere thought of siphoning strength and size from random strangers he saw on the street. His eyes would appraise each passing stranger as if he was a high class gourmet rating and ranking a buffet of five star dishes. He licked his lips as he watched someone particularly tall walk by. His hands trembled in excitement as he surveyed huge, shapely muscles. His cock twitched in anticipation as he watched the huge, meaty bulges in dudes’ shorts as they jogged by. He just couldn’t help it. He needed more.
By the end of the first week he had already drained dozens of guys. The little terrarium by his bed was getting crowded with tiny guys. Each guy was between two and four inches in height. Each little dude was so slim and slender that they could have posed on a high class fashion runway. It was hard to believe that every last one of them had once been big, beefy muscle jocks. Each tiny dude had a pathetic little nub of a cock between his legs. It was hard to believe that each of these guys had once had cocks that made porn stars weep. Now their packages looked like tiny, fleshy thimbles between their skinny legs.
By the start of the second week Marshall had already reached well over six feet tall with over a foot of fat cock tucked away in his tight jeans. He had gone from being the shortest, weakest guy in his class to being the biggest and beefiest, but still it wasn’t enough. The thought of growing even larger constantly gnawed at his mind. He knew he needed to be careful, but he couldn’t stop daydreaming about his next conquest. Already the rumors were circling. The disappearances were mounting up, and everybody could see that Marshall was transforming daily. He had added almost two feet of height in a week. He had put on more muscle mass in a week than a pro builder could in three years, and then there was his cock. Marshall’s clothes always showcased the bulge in his skivvies. His dick was massive by all accounts, and everyone knew it. Just seeing the thick outline of his meaty cock was enough to leave most dudes completely cowed.
Marshall was not at all surprised when one of the Supers finally approached him. Marshall recognized the outfit from the news—Pummelist, one of the newest super heroes to be patrolling the streets of Bedlam.
Marshall licked his lips as he scoped out the hero’s toned, muscular body. He wasn’t nearly as big and bulky as the pro-lifters and jocks that Marshall usually drained, but the hero’s skin-tight white spandex super suit showcased his hot bod and fantastic cock perfectly. Just glancing at Pummelist’s huge dick was enough to get Marshall worked up. He could only imagine how good it would feel to drain that size and add it to his, but for the time being he knew he should play it safe. Supers were not to be underestimated. Marshall may have had the advantage in size, but that was no indication of power when it came to masked vigilantes.
“Need somethin’?” Marshall asked casually.
“I’m here to bring you in!” Pummelist announced dramatically. He struck a cheesy pose as he pointed straight at Marshall’s chest with one navy blue gloved hand.
“In?” Marshall replied. He decided to feign ignorance for the time being to try and get a feel for what he was up against and what he was being accused of. He had no idea how much anyone knew about his activities.
“Yes! I’ve been watching you. I’ve seen you growing this past week, and I know it’s connected to all those missing people!” Pummelist announced dramatically. Despite the lack of wind, the long, flowing fabric of his cloth eye mask flowed behind him like banners in a gusty wind.
“Are those two things related?” Marshall asked.
“I wasn’t sure at first, but you slipped up. You’re wearing Jeremy’s jacket!” Pummelist shouted as he once again pointed at Marshall’s chest.
Marshall glanced down at his clothing and realized that he was indeed wearing a jacket he had swiped from one of his recent victims. He had thought nothing of it at the time. One jacket’s the same as any other as far as he was concerned, and he had long since outgrown his own clothes.
“Would you believe I found it lying around?” Marshall asked sarcastically.
Pummelist didn’t even reply. He lunged forward with dizzying speed and landed a powerful right hook straight across Marshall’s face. Marshall was sent flying straight back into a nearby alleyway. He slammed hard into a large, metal dumpster. The metal crunched and crumpled under the force of the impact. Marshall howled in pain. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard something pop, and he couldn’t feel or move his left arm.
Pummelist stomped forward and cracked his knuckles menacingly. He sneered victoriously down at the fallen villain. This was going to be one of the easiest cases he had busted yet. He just needed to figure out what had happened to the missing people.
Pummelist reached down and effortlessly hoisted Marshall into the air by the front of his shirt. Pummelist balled up his free hand into a fist and pulled it back as if preparing to deliver a devastating punch straight to Marshall’s nose. “Now tell me. Where are the missing people.” The hero hissed.
“Wait… please…” Marshall murmured weakly. He was in so much pain that his sniveling little act wasn’t entirely feigned, but he had seen his chance for a counter attack so to speak. There was a small patch of exposed skin near Pummelist’s wrist where the sleeve of his skin-tight white super suit ended, and the hem of his navy blue gloves began.
Marshall weakly grabbed for Pummelist’s wrist with his right hand and acted as if he was trying to meekly pry himself free. He didn’t have the strength for such a maneuver though, and they both knew this. Pummelist smirked victoriously as he saw Marshall’s feeble attempts to shake out of his grip.
“Just give it up. You will tell me where my brother is, and then you’ll rot in a cell.” Pummelist sneered.
Marshall could hear and feel the rage burning beneath the otherwise cool and collected surface of the super hero’s forced stoic persona. Marshall’s mind raced. The details of the past few minutes started to fall into place. Pummelist was seeking information of some guy named Jeremy, and the hero had just accidentally let slip that his brother was among the missing.
The pieces fell into place almost instantly. He had sapped some muscle bound tool at the gym just last night and had taken his jacket. This hero must have been the jock’s brother.
Marshall winced as he felt his shoulder pop back into place. It hurt like hell, but he could slowly feel his arm healing itself, and there was something else he felt too. A rush of power like he had never experienced before! He could feel his muscles bristling with energy. He could actually feel his already huge cock stirring to life and growing in his tight jeans. He already filled out his shirt spectacularly, but now his muscles were straining even harder than before. This was the rush he had been looking for! This was the thrill he desired! This was the growth he craved!
Marshall eyed the would-be hero. He could already see the changes taking place. Pummelist’s spandex suit was looking a little loose. His muscles no longer strained against the fabric. His cock no longer pressed hard against the front. The outline of his once spectacular dick was looking pretty wimpy especially compared to Marshall’s own swelling piece. Marshall was no longer dangling from the hero’s grasp. His feet now rested solidly on the ground despite the would-be hero raising Marshall’s shirt collar as high in the air as he could reach.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take you to see your brother soon.” Marshall chuckled sinisterly.
Pummelist started to realize that something was wrong. His suit was so loose that it was falling off his shoulder. Marshall now towered over him, and seemed to be growing by the second. Pummelist knew he needed to get out of there and warn the others. This mysterious new villain was more powerful than anyone had suspected.
Pummelist let go of Marshall’s collar and turned to bolt back towards the main street, but he didn’t make it very far. He made it all of two feet before he tripped over his loose, saggy pants. He tried to clamber to his feet and make another dash for it, but Marshall slammed one huge foot down on one of his pant legs that trailed behind him.
Pummelist knew he couldn’t waste the time needed to take his uniform off the old-fashioned way. He forced his way forward and squeezed his way through the neck hole of his super suit. His stomach sank as he realized what he was doing. It used to be a chore to pull that shirt over his head, but now he could slip his entire torso through the narrow neck hole.
Pummelist was naked as the day he was born. Even his mask had gotten too big for him and had fallen off, but he couldn’t worry too much about that. He was more interested in escaping. He hauled ass as fast as he could towards the light at the end of the dark alley. He figured if he could at least get that far he’d be safe.
It looked like he was about to make it. He was just a few feet from the end of the shadows. He pumped his legs with all his might in an effort to run faster than ever before. He was almost laughing as he felt the warm afternoon sun hit his bare skin. He closed his eyes and thanked whoever might be looking out for him, but he barely got the first syllable of “thank god” out before he slammed hard into something directly in front of him.
The impact knocked the air from his lungs and sent him sprawling flat on his ass. Pummelist rubbed his sore shoulder and stared up and up at the towering assailant. Marshall looked even more massive from down on the floor. The attacker’s jean-clad legs looked like skyscrapers. Pummelist swallowed hard and tried to scramble backwards. Marshall merely sneered down at him and slowly stomped forward like some giant out of an old Grimm’s fairy tale.
Marshall snickered villainously as he stared down at the fallen hero. Pummelist was now a hair shy of three feet tall. His head wouldn’t even reach up to Marshall’s hips. The hero’s once fit, toned, muscular body was now looking lean and lithe. Marshal licked his lips as he scoped out the faint ridges and contours of the hero’s reduced musculature. Marshall could feel his palms burn in anticipation as he eyed the hero’s once massive cock. Pummelist’s dick which once would have dangled down almost to his knees now barely dipped past his balls. His fat cock which once would have been as thick as his wrist was now about as fat as his thumb. His nuts which once would have looked like chicken’s eggs now looked like grapes.
Marshall cackled victoriously as he reached down and grabbed Pummelist by the throat and lifted the would-be hero into the air. Pummelist’s legs dangled helplessly as the hero clawed ineffectively at Marshall’s huge hand. Marshall sneered victoriously as he watched what was left of the hero’s once deeply trenched eight pack abs smooth away into nothing. He cackled as he watched the hero’s once magnificent cock shrink and shorten by the second. Marshall exulted in the rush of power as he watched the once mighty hero shrink down to the size of a baby doll.
Pummelist was getting too tiny for Marshall to effectively grab by the throat, but that was just fine by him. He didn’t want the hero to suffocate. No. He wanted the fallen guardian of the city to be awake and fully conscious as he steadily dwindled away.
Marshall passed the shrunken hero over to his other hand and grabbed the dwindling crime-fighter by his midriff. Pummelist was still a little too big for Marshall to wrap his hand completely around his slender torso, but that wouldn’t last long. Already Marshall could see his thumb and forefingers getting ever closer together as his captive shrunk away in his grasp.
Marshall snickered as he glanced at what was left of the hero’s once fantastic, long, low-swinging cock. Pummelist’s tiny cock was looking more like an acorn than the oak tree it had once been.
Pummelist could tell the villainous dude was staring at his reduced cock. The mocking snicker made his blood run cold and his gut sink. He wanted to cover up. He wanted to reach down and slide a hand over his crotch, but he couldn’t free even just one hand to try and save what modesty he had left. It made him sick just to think that he could cover his dick with just one hand. Just this morning both hands wouldn’t have been near enough to cover his massive cock and huge balls, but now he could eclipse his entire package with just his thumb.
Marshall watched as the hero grew so tiny that he vanished beneath his clasped fingers. Pummelist may have been hidden from view, but Marshall could still feel him weakly thrashing about in a last ditch effort to escape, but it was for naught. With each passing second Marshall could feel the puny thrashing grow ever weaker. With each passing second he could feel the tiny lump of the would-be hero grow ever tinier in his clasped palm. Soon he could barely feel even the faintest thrashing against his fingers. Soon he couldn’t even feel the lump on his palm.
He kept his hands clasped shut for another moment or two and waited for any sign that the hero was still somewhere in his closed fist. Eventually curiosity got the better of him. He hadn’t felt any movement for what felt like ages. Had he really shrunken the hero out of existence?
Marshall opened his hand and peered down at his palm. He was a little surprised to find that he could still actually see the tiny hero, but only just barely. Whether it was just due to gravity or whether it was because Pummelist had somehow managed to figure out that the eye-shaped scar tissue on Marshall’s palm was the source of the siphoning was hard to say, but Pummelist had moved down along Marshall’s palm until he had managed to escape the effects of the draining mark.
Marshall shrugged. It was just as well that the hero had survived. The tiny speck of a fallen hero would make the perfect trophy, and Marshall had another idea that he could use Pummelist’s help with…
Marshall dropped the tiny crime-fighter into his jacket pocket and hurried home. He was so ecstatic that he actually skipped and frolicked as he went. He had never felt more powerful. He had never been taller. He had never been more buff, and his cock had never been bigger. Draining Supers was so much more exciting than siphoning puny common folk. He could drain a dozen gym rats and not see half the gains he had seen from just one would-be super hero. He couldn’t wait to drain another and another. His palms itched just thinking about it.
Marshall stopped by a clothing store on his way home and grabbed a pair of costume gloves and large, flashy socks to wear. He didn’t bother paying. If anyone tried to stop him, he’d just add the unfortunate sales clerk to his growing collection. Nobody tried to stop him though.
He got home and fished out one of his favorite t-shirts back from when he was still a shrimp. The shirt had been huge and loose even on his tubby frame, but now it was so tight that it stretched across his chest like a second skin. He was so much taller than he had been back then that the lower hem of his shirt didn’t even reach past his thick, muscular pecs. The sleeves had torn off the second he tried to get his hands through them, but that was for the best. It looked so much hotter on him without them.
He eyed himself in the mirror and smirked. He was starting to look the part of a proper super villain. His tiny, sleeveless shirt covered just his pecs like an undersized sports bra. His yellow and black sleeves gave his arms a more menacing appearance, and his long, knee high socks worked perfectly with his boots to make nice leggings. He left his cock, balls, ass, and midriff completely exposed. After all, what did he care about laws? He was a villain. Indecency was just one of many laws he’d break in his quest to get ever larger, and as he saw it, if you’ve got it, flaunt it. He wanted everyone to stare at his magnificent cock. He wanted everyone to see his huge, shapely ass. He wanted everyone to check out how shredded his thick, rippling abs were.
Marshall posed in front of the mirror. His ass looked huge. Not only did he have enough muscle back there to make a pro-lifter weep in shame, but he had managed to maintain his naturally full and shapely bubble butt even with his massive muscle gains.
Marshall spun back around and stuck another pose. His cock looked fantastic. The huge, meaty shaft was thicker than his big, bulging bicep and dangled past his knees. His two, enormous nuts were larger than NBA certified basketballs and dangled over halfway down his thighs, and that was just the start. There was no telling how huge he’d get once he siphoned a few more heroes. There was no telling how huge his cock would be once he was satisfied.
Marshall smirked at the thought. There was no use wondering about when he’d be satisfied. He could already feel the hunger for more building inside of him. There was no such thing as too big. He didn’t think he’d ever be satisfied, and that was just perfect for him. Just thinking about growing even bigger, even stronger, even more hung made him tremble in anticipation. Just thinking about it made him cackle with glee.
If he drained every hero in Bedlam City, then he’d just have to find a new source of Supers to hunt. Bedlam may have had a recent surge in its super hero population, but that hardly meant that it was the only city out there. The possibilities were endless… as was his need for more…
A week later the first images began circling the net. A new, mysterious super villain had publicly announced his arrival in Bedlam city. The images he posted showed an impossibly tall guy with wild, green hair, a tight shirt that barely covered his chest, amazingly developed muscles, and a fully exposed, massive set of cock and balls. The new villain referred to himself as Sapp and warned that any who dare oppose him would soon fall to his power, and to back up his claim he added a photo that struck fear into the hearts of all would-be heroes…
At first glance it appeared that the last photo was merely a high rez close-up shot of the surface of a shiny new dime, but upon further inspection and a few attempts to magnify the image, the viewers could make out a very clear figure in the image. There, encapsulated within the circular walls of the tiny ‘0’ of the 2015 time stamp was the miniscule, cowering form of Pummelist. The once mighty hero was smaller than a gnat. His body was devoid of any form of muscle, and his dick was all but invisible. All that remained of his once magnificent cock was a little nub that looked more like the tip of a pen located in the otherwise vacant expanse of his crotch.
Update posts: Site Update: 21 March 2020
Flashback posts: Saturday Flashback: Supertrawl
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