series: Transform Universe

Transform: Coffee and cream

By Also Known As 
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• Latest update: 16 May. Next update: 30 May. (Submissions welcome.)

• Latest post: Saturday Flashback: May 2014.

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“Anyone can join?”

“It’s a men’s-only gym, but other than that, yeah, anyone can join.”

Willie allowed his eyes to slowly move across the muscular dimensions of the man sitting before him. He’d heard of them before, the trumans, of course. Who hadn’t? They were almost unavoidable lately. But this was the first one he’d seen in the flesh. He never would have had the guts to go up and talk to one if he saw him on the streets, but here was not just one, but two of the supermen sitting at one of his stations at the small corner restaurant in Denver, Colorado. A new T-Gym had just opened downtown, and though he was curious about it—and them—he had yet to screw up the courage to walk through its doors and soak in all the testosterone on display.

They were easily the two largest men Willie had ever seen. Large in just about every sense. Tall, wide, thick and hard, and every muscle lining their long limbs and mounted on their impressive torsos was incredibly large and well-defined. The triceps were made up of several lobes. The biceps split into twin globes. Their nipples were pushed low on their huge pectoral shelves. Their shoulders stretched out wide and heavy with brawn. Even their necks were impressive. They seemed to glow with a kind of easy sexuality, and as they spoke quietly to each other in their deep and rumbling tones, their hands could not keep from touching each others’ bodies. They kissed frequently and openly, and sat with their legs wide so that the display of their ample sexual equipment was both prominent and unavoidable. They were not sporting erections, but they were very definitely aroused.

It was past midnight and his was one of the very few dining places still open. His heart flipped over in his chest when he saw them come in, and he prayed to a God he didn’t even believe in that they would sit at one of his tables, rather than one of Rachel’s. And then they did. And now here he was, feeling his cock getting harder in his pants, listening to the deep masculine tones of the two men talking to him, looking at him, smiling at him.

“Why haven’t you come in—,” the man’s darkly smoldering green eyes narrowed as he peered at the nametag pinned to his chest, then he issued a deep chuckle and winked as he added, “Willie?” His teeth were white and perfect, and as he finished his question his full lips quirked into a sideways smile. One hand was now resting on the cock in his jeans, and he was openly and easily moving his fingers up and down its long shaft, squeezing and rubbing and petting the snake as he cradled the head in the warmth of his palm.

Willie shrugged, feigning ignorance. “Dunno. Just… time, maybe?” Willie was experiencing the usual shyness that always struck him when he was truly, deeply attracted to someone. It was frustrating and annoying, and the more he stood there, the worse he could feel it growing. Just as the man’s prick was simultaneously growing thicker, longer and more rigid by the second.

The other one spoke. He was dark-skinned, nearly black, with a shaved head and almond-shaped eyes. His face was almost supernaturally beautiful, and his chocolate skin was begging to be touched. It looked like silk, but it covered a collection of muscle so overwhelming in dimension and definition that Willie felt breathless before him. His cheekbones were absurdly high and he owned a long, but muscular and thick neck. “Doesn’t take much time to just drop in, Willie. Do you need an invitation?”

“By the way, my name’s Chuck. This is Frazz.” The one named Chuck offered his huge hand, pulling it from his burgeoning dick, and his grin grew into a bright smile.

He had a squared jaw, and his cheeks and chin were dusted with a closely cropped set of black whiskers, lending his face a shadowed, slightly evil appearance. His prominent brow was edged with two thick caterpillars that arched slyly, and his nose looked as if it had been copied from some classic Roman statue, broad and proud above his full lips. His skin had the same kind of sheen that the black man’s had, but it was a sun-kissed bronze. A network of thick veins criss-crossed his enormous collection of brawn, as if he possessed no body fat at all.

They both wore ribbed cotton tanktops, Chuck in white and Frazz in black, that clung to their amazing bodies like second skins and ended an inch or two above the waistbands of matching dark denim jeans that sat precariously low on their hips. Chuck was evidently furry all over, with a prominent treasure trail erupting from his navel and spreading invitingly before plunging into his crotch. Frazz was smooth, but his pants were so low that some dark curls of pubic hair were clearly evident.

They were sitting around a small round table, currently empty except for a napkin dispenser, salt and pepper shakers and a bottle of ketchup. Willie realized that Chuck’s cock was thicker and longer than the ketchup bottle.

They both appeared to be very tall, easily eight or nine inches past six feet, and between the two of them it looked like 500 or 600 pounds of powerful, purified, heavy-duty muscle sat on their bones. Oddly, or divertingly, Willie could easily smell that each man had his own deeply funky scent. Not cologne or perfume, clearly, but the raw, earthy scent of a man, and everything that implied.

“Did you know what you wanted?” Willie bit his lip, realizing what he’d just asked, and he smiled in spite of himself. He was having a very hard time concentrating on anything but a sudden and almost unavoidable urge to kneel down, pull out Chuck’s thick cock and go to town on him, slurping and sucking and licking until he received his just reward.

“Wow, you just left yourself wide open there, didn’t you?” Chuck’s smile was positively indecent. His green gaze went south and rested on the growing bulge in Willie’s pants. Willie could feel his prick pressing against his jeans and he could swear his nipples were tingling. “As a matter of fact, I know exactly what I want.” Then he met Willie’s embarrassed face again and said, “Looks like you do, too.”

Frazz shook his bald head. “You’re embarrassing the man, Chuck.”

“This man has nothing to be embarrassed about,” Chuck answered. He listed his hand from his fat prick and sat forward, leaning toward Willie.

Perceptible warmth, and what to Willie felt like a sudden growing sexual heat that made his hair stand on end, came with the huge man’s advance.

Chuck reached forward without preamble or evident embarrassment and set his large hand against Willie’s loins, cupping his balls and growing erection, and he squeezed gently. “You need any help with this?” he asked.

Willie gulped and his eyes rolled into his head. He almost felt like he was cumming already. A strong sexual throbbing sensation struck him as soon as the other man touched him, and he was lost for words. He barely heard Frazz’s voice asking, “What are you doing, Chuck?” as the nearly orgasmic experience subsided.

“Just giving our friend a taste of heaven.”

“Just a taste?”

Chuck’s low voice rumbled a laugh and he removed his warm grip from Willie’s groin. “Just a taste.”

“Oh, fuck,” Willie whispered.

“Yeah,” Chuck answered in a low growl, “I’m pretty good.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Frazz added, smiling.

Chuck let out a small laugh like a rumble of the earth’s core and pulled his hand from Willie’s happy loins, sitting back in his chair and allowing his hand to drift back to his own massive meat, where his manipulations continued. “Anyway, I’d just like a coffee, Willie. Black and hot.”

“Like me!” Frazz said, laughingly. “Same here, bud. Just something to take the edge off.” He looked at his lover and at his lover’s enormous and growing prick, shoving intently against the crotch of his jeans. “So to speak.”

Their waiter wasn’t moving. He simply stood there, his hands in tight fists, eyes closed, visibly shaking slightly. “Willie?” Chuck’s tone was amused. “Earth to Willie?”

Frazz’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t—?”

“Nope. Well, nothing major. Just a friendly little nudge.”


“Little nudge.” Chuck waggled his eyebrows and looked up at Willie, and Frazz followed his gaze. He noticed, now, that a series of veins was winding along the young man’s exposed arms like tributaries from a swollen river. He could see them inching down his muscles under his skin, each thin branch growing quickly longer and thicker.

Movement from the young man’s sleeve drew his attention away from the vascular development. His shirt sleeves were both slowly retracting as Willie’s biceps and triceps began to slowly swell with power and growth. They were inflating with muscle, filling the sleeves and pushing them higher to make room.

Then his forearms followed suit, thickening with brawn. The veins there were massive, and looked like they were pulsing, echoing every beat of his heart, and with every new pulse, his arms grew bigger.

His shirt began moving and shifting on its own as his pectorals slowly moved forward and spread wider, pushing his erect nipples down as the muscle grew. His upper body was expanding with brawn, lifting the shirt higher and pulling the placate apart, every button on the dark navy Polo shirt straining to retain its tenuous hold as the body inside it kept gaining more and more muscle.

Now a flash of skin appeared at the hem of Willie’s shirt. His body was starting to compensate for its muscular development by stretching itself taller. Frazz watched as Willie’s shirt rose up to expose one or two inches of his belly. His navel appeared and a fresh collection of dark curls emerged from his flesh, leading a trail down into his jeans. Then Frazz noticed the most dramatic change of all. Willie’s crotch was being filled up with something. His basket pushed forward and swelled like a balloon, and something thick and long was pushing out and then up, shoving insistently for freedom. “Chuck—” Frazz said softly, as he watched the young man’s cock and balls growing larger and larger.

Chuck laughed softly. “Just a little nudge,” he said again. He set his hand against Willie’s growing prick and said, “Maybe a little more than a nudge in some places.”

Willie’s pants were growing tighter. His crotch was filling up in front, and two round globes of muscular ass were filling in behind. He was still gaining height, too, so that the waist of his pants was being pulled lower on his hips. By now, three or four inches of his midriff were exposed, and the development of his six-pack was evident. From small, smooth bumps of muscle, large squared-off rocks were growing in prominence. His treasure trail grew dense and the forest of his pubic bush was rising above the loose waistband of his jeans.

Frazz looked up and was struck by the overall growth that Willie’s body was now evidencing. His shoulders were stretching, becoming taller and wider, and his entire body was still slowly stretching taller. His shirt was stretched tightly against his chest and upper body. Even his neck was fighting for room in the shirt’s collar. His face showed nothing at all of the strain that his clothing was enduring. Instead, it was clear that he was feeling something closer to sexual bliss.

The masculine qualities of his young features were growing more pronounced. A beard was visibly growing on his chin and cheeks. His brow was more evident. His nose was more angular. His lips grew full and kissable. One button, then another, popped from his shirt as it could no longer fully contain the massive growth of his twin pectoral giants. His sleeves began to rip themselves open as his arms grew fat with power.

Willie’s entire body, in a matter of a couple of minutes, looked like it had gained around 30 or 40 pounds of muscle, and his frame had stretched three or four inches taller to compensate. As he reached the peak of his new form, his entire body shook and he gasped and opened his eyes wide. Willie’s head was filled with erotic imagery. His body was pumped to overflowing with a massive injection of male sexual need. Everything felt hot and hard and pulsed with a familiar but overwhelming hunger for release. He felt his new muscles tense and bulge and his cock was constrained and angry, deeply throbbing with sexual potency and power.

Without thinking, he constricted his asshole and shoved more blood and more growth into his prick, and it surged and tightened and swelled.

His erection shoved suddenly out of its cage, fourteen inches long and fat as a beer can, ripping through his underwear and breaking the zipper on his jeans. The mushroom head, red and shiny, drooled a thick string of silver from its eye. His cock pulsed and throbbed and grew heavy with its cargo, clearly ready to burst, arching upwards toward its ultimate glorious length.

“Yeah,” Chuck said again, “I’m pretty good.” He leaned forward and grabbed onto the huge hard-on and placed his lips to Willie’s newly grown fount and expertly sucked and stroked him to orgasm, greedily swallowing the young man’s gushing flood of hot, sticky cum.

Willie moaned and grunted and grabbed onto Chuck’s head and started face fucking the other man, pushing his hard, hungry prick deeply down Chuck’s throat. He could feel his balls heave and throb as he shoved flooded waves of cream into Chuck’s mouth. He came over and over, each flow heavier than the last, until he reached the crescendo of his orgasm and pushed a tide of hot cum from his aching balls, the muscles of his body growing suddenly tight and firm, swollen with power.

Willie’s clothing—the remnants of his clothing, anyway—clung to his new body like a second skin. His jeans, low on his slim hips, hugged his new ass and muscular legs with a tight grip, even as his long prick hung free from the broken fly of his pants. His shirt looked ridiculously small on his muscular torso. The bottom hung loose around his slim waist, while the upper portion was little more than a tattered collection of cotton strips, ripped apart by the sheer size of his newly muscled chest, arms and shoulders. The collar was spread wide apart, showing the top of the crevasse that separated one plate of pectoral glory from the other, and a massive neck rose toward a chiseled jawline coated with a heavy dusting of newly-grown whiskers. He had almost managed to Hulk out of his clothes entirely, and his chest heaved as his gulped in air, trying to calm his sexually-charged libido.

Chuck wiped the corners of his mouth before settling back into his chair and folding his mammoth arms behind his head. He was grinning up at his newest creation like the cat that swallowed the canary, admiring Willie’s masculine beauty. “Oops,” he said, before grinning deviously.

“Technically,” Frazz pointed out, “you’re supposed to ask him first.”

“About which part? The muscle growing part, or the cock sucking part?”

“Well… both.” Frazz chuckled in spite of himself. “I gotta say, though, you sure can pick ‘em.”

Willie looked down at his new body and sheepishly attempted to stuff his thick, limp 10-incher back into his pants, with little success. His balls were now much larger, too, and there was simply no room for that much meat. His shirt ripped itself apart even more thoroughly as he tried to hide his cock, rending wide tears across his back and shoulders, and his sleeves simply gave up entirely when faced with the 20-inch guns mounted on his upper arms.

After a few seconds, he simply stood there, half-naked, holding his dick in his hands, and said, “I’ll be right back with your coffee, sir.” His voice was deep and gruff, and he sounded now more like an army sergeant than a diner waiter. The shirt, or what was left of it, rubbed against his sensitive nipples as he walked, and Chuck and Frazz both felt their cocks twitch and throb watching how Willie’s muscled ass shifted and bobbed in his tight jeans as he retreated. A good inch of ass crack rose above the jeans’ waistband, showing the thick, proud arch of each muscular cheek, and the Christmas tree on his lower back flexed and stretched. His heavily muscled thighs moved around each other awkwardly, and he bumped into a few chairs and tables on his way from the dining floor, obviously unaccustomed to his suddenly larger size.

“He seems okay with it,” Frazz observed.

Chuck shrugged his massive shoulders. “Told you it was all a lot of worry over nothing.”

“Still, you might have just asked him, first. Or at least have brought along a new pair of jeans for the poor guy.”

“I wasn’t sure of his size,” Chuck answered, grinning. “You want to stay for the coffee?”

Frazz shook his head. “Let’s go have some more fun.”

Chuck’s eyebrow arched, and his sideways grin wound across his lips. “Someone catch your eye?”

Frazz nodded. “Tall dude? Skateboarder?”

“The guy with all the body art by the fountain?”

“The very one.”

“Didn’t strike me as your type, Frazz. Don’t you go for the clean-cut All Americans?”

“I really don’t care if he’s cut or not, Chuck. As long as I get to suck on his cock, he can be anything he wants to be.”

“An excellent point.”

The two gigantic muscular men stood up. Chuck left a $20 on the table and a business card. It said simply ‘Chuck’ on one side, and ‘Transform Gym—Good for one free session’ on the other. “See you again soon, Willie,” he said softly. Then they turned and left the diner, ducking to clear the exit, and emerged into the cold, dark night, headed for the fountain.

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