Titan 3
by AKA
My first few nights at the Club were not that great. I was used to being worshiped from afar, but being worshiped from the stage was weird. But I got used to it quick and really got into performing for the audience – mostly guys – and became the headliner after it was clear that my particular talents had surpassed Rob's. He didn't care too much, he was part owner of the place so the more money pulled in,
no matter who was doing the pulling, he was all for.
At first I felt weird getting nude in the spotlight. The locker room is one thing. Everyone's naked there at some point, and sure there's glances and overt staring, especially when a guy looks like I do. But when you're the only one stripping down to your birthday suit and you're making a big deal out of it – I mean, shit, it's a little odd, right? Especially when guys are fighting each other to get your jockstrap.
I didn't do much dancing at first, I mostly just came out and took off my clothes and did some poses and left. No big deal, but that's enough for some guys, I guess. Rob and a couple of the better dancers coached me and helped me find some music that would get my ass moving (Prince, if you must know. That little sexy fucker must have pure cum in his bloodstream or something.) and after a few bouts of shyness I managed to really get down and get into myself, which is what they wanted.
They, the audience, they wanted me to fucking feel myself up. Lick and sniff and caress, baby, it was all good. Wipe those dirty digits across your asshole and sniff it up. Spit a gob in your palm and stroke your meat till it's hard. Sniff your hairy pits, lick your nips, dig your nails through your chest hair. All that shit gets them going apeshit.
I learned that the muscle growth made me bigger and stronger as expected, but there were other body benefits I hadn't expected. That flexibility like Rob showed made itself apparent by accident when I tripped on stage and did this freaky weird acrobatic thing, limbs going all over, twisting my torso around, and I was fine. Looked like a fucking dance step. So I started experimenting and found I could pretty much get my body into any position I could imagine.
My tips went through the roof after that.
And I kept getting bigger. And then something else happened. Something amazing. I wasn't the first, I soon discovered, but I wasn't prepared for it at all. I was more than an Auggie – I was a Grower.
......
I watched him where he was, low down against the wall looking back at me. He had lowered himself to place his shoes on the carpet and I watched his tall frame compact with an eager fascination that surprised me. Watching that huge body bunching down like that, seeing all the muscle press against itself and bulge outward was making me hot and hard. His naked form bulged with strength, every muscle primed and pumped to full roundness. I could see the fibers along his thighs stretch and pull as he balanced himself, my gaze drawn from his until his voice drew me back. "How big?" he echoed.
I licked my lips and pulled in a calming breath. "How big can you get?"
He smiled, increasing his overall level of attractiveness to something just this side of perfection. His bronzed skin was smooth and elastic and his teeth were straight and very white. His eyes seemed to twinkle. He looked dangerous and sexy and too beautiful to be here with me alone. He deserved to be on a magazine cover or staring from a video screen seducing an audience of millions with his incredible physique and face.
He stayed where he was as he answered, his deep baritone fully reflecting the powerful waves of masculinity he pumped out like sweat. "As big as you wish me to be." As he said it, he leaned back slightly, leaning his wide shoulders to the wall and pushing his pelvis forward so his ample tool spilled more fully from between his muscled legs. It was a massive thickness of cock, drooping not merely inches but a full foot at least, fat and ripe but still limp even though the skin seemed to be stretched tight across his contours, the whole of his meat smooth and firm. His smile narrowed and his cock stretched itself longer still, dipping toward the floor. It stretched itself forward so simply and easily that for a moment I thought I could do the same thing, that I could simply beckon my dick to grow and it would. Just like his.
But he was enhanced. I knew it when I bought him – ordered him really. He was damned expensive, but I wanted someone special. When he showed up, I was breathless. God could not have created such perfect beauty, only man could do that.
After he arrived he immediately kissed me deeply and meaningfully and reached his talented hands around my body and under, grabbing my ass with gusto. Everything had been pumped up on him, I was told. Unlimited libido for unlimited sex. He'd get hard on command, stay hard as long as I wanted him to, and cum for as long and as thick and as much as I wanted to see or feel him do it.
I'm not sure I believed it all, but what I saw was more than I dreamed of, already. His body had been altered using the latest genetic and cellular advances so that those enhancements required no tools or chemicals or additions of any kind. He was in total control – and he would allow me total control for one hour.
"Stand up," I said. He did so. His body answering perfectly, stretching itself tall and powerful before me. "How tall are you?"
"Six foot four inches." I scanned him hungrily. "Exactly." His body was perfect, and why not? He controlled every aspect of himself, from skin to hair to the color of his eyes. Everything was right where it should be in perfect proportion. His head was topped with a full, lustrous mane of blackness that made his blue eyes seem so deeply azure that they might have been jewels.
"More."
I watched as he expanded as if he were an image being magnified. "Six foot six." He said it without pride, it was simply a statement. `I am now more than I was,' he was saying, `at your command.'
"More, and more muscle."
He began to swell again, this time upwards and outwards both. "Six foot eight. Twenty five additional pounds." It was amazing and awesome. He did it so easily, so quickly. I could see him changing in seconds, his arms growing longer and filling with muscle. His narrow waist staying lean and trim and cobbled with perfect abs. His legs stretching and thickening. Everything growing bigger and more powerful all because I asked.
His eyebrow rose on his beautiful face noting that my attention was drawn to his chest. He said, "You like that?" and it grew, the two hemispheres swelling like balloons, the cables of power bulging thicker and thicker shoving his dark, round nipples toward the floor. I nodded and they continued to develop, bigger and bigger, swollen muscular tits as round as melons. His shoulders began to broaden outward just to support the weight of them, even his neck growing broad as the ponderous boulders continued to swell and distend. His chest was so big now it gave him not a V-shaped but almost a T-shape, and I said, "Not too much."
"You know the rules?"
I nodded. I read them before I ordered him, digitally signed them when I paid the fee. The rules were simple and clear. I knew what I wanted, though. "Okay," he said, his growth stopping as suddenly as it had started, and he stood there now, naked, huge, impossibly proportioned. His arms were relaxed at his side, both shielded with mounds of bulging meat. He lifted the right one and his hand moved onto his pelvis, onto his tight groin, his fingers diving into the soft, thick curls of hair above the heavy root of his pendulous monster and he gently rubbed at an itch, sending his beast to swinging. I nearly came. "Can you…?"
His brows rose expectantly. "I can do anything." And that smile returned.