Transform: New Blood 8
by AKA
Chuck, it was easy to deduce, worshipped men. Chuck worshipped everything about men. Chuck venerated the feel of a man, the scent and the mere presence of men. He revered the fur that sprouted from their skin, he deified the round, beautiful butts they were gifted with, their wide shoulders and their thick necks, the scruff of their beards against his flesh, the muscle that lined their frames and their broad noses and hard brows. He bowed before the power of men, the strength and authority and dominance of men. And of all the physical aspects of a man, Chuck worshipped the cock most of all.The cock was the fount of power, the truest symbol, the ultimate expression of the beauty of men. Chuck never met a cock he didn’t like, and Chuck had met an awful lot of cocks.
He was a huge man, unmistakably powerful and completely and overwhelmingly masculine. What any other man had, Chuck had ten-fold. Insatiably lustful, powerful almost beyond measure, possessed of a magnetism and libidinous licentiousness of boundless proportions, Chuck was a walking hard-on, the living, breathing epitome of masculinity and the purest form of male dominance striding the planet. But give the man a dick to worship, and you were his master.
Chuck clutched Cal’s firm, fat erection in his huge grip and moved his mouth towards its gleaming head. A shining drop of precum glistened at the tip, and Chuck’s tongue slowly emerged from between his soft, warm, full lips and licked the invitation clean, tasting the essence of Cal’s maleness and succumbing to its power. He licked his lips, closing his eyes to concentrate its power and pulled air into his lungs, expanding his chest outward with the masculine tang that flavored his breath. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against the yielding flesh, kissing Cal’s prick with reverent adoration.
Chuck opened his eyes and looked up, a sideways smile quirking across those lips as he met the gaze of the young owner of this amazing and colossal cock. He squeezed him gently and watched the dude gasp and shudder. Oh, yeah, this was gonna be great. He kept his dark eyes fixed on the young man’s face as he leaned in and kissed his cockhead again, gently, and again, softly, and again, teasing the tip of his tongue forward to suck the fresh gob of precum from the piss slit. He licked the slim, smooth split under the helmet, tickling the sensitive skin with his adept tongue before moving his mouth slowly, oh so slowly over the entirety of the helmet, breathing warm wetness across its expanse. He encompassed the head of Cal’s plum entirely and then slowly closed his lips about the head, moving his slick, hot tongue around and around its surface before sucking against it, feeling the cockhead swell inside his mouth.
He twisted his head and began to lick and suck against Cal’s cock, moving his lips and tongue and mouth across the receptive flesh as the tool grew harder and harder in his grip. He could feel the heat of it growing and he sank a shock of The Touch into its firm shaft. The sensation of sexual bliss erupted through Cal’s dick and spread across his groin like fire, moving under to tickle his balls and lick his asshole and send his entire body into spasms of orgasmic delight. Chuck moaned, his deep voice reverberating through Cal’s cock like a heartbeat, and Cal could feel the other man’s power in the sound.
If there was a more agreeable way to lose one’s job, Paul didn’t know what it could be as he watched the huge, musclebound giant sucking the lucky kid’s joint with obvious pleasure and expertise. He leaned over the bar to watch the action, suddenly oblivious to anything else that was happening in the bar. He felt his cock grow suddenly huge and hard, painfully erect in his tight jeans and hungry to be free. He reached down and, almost without knowing it, unbuttoned his fly and let his own cock free of its confines. He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked his palm before applying it to his hard-on and stroking himself slowly. He already felt like cumming.
Murph was spellbound by what he was witnessing. It was like a dream unfolding before his eyes. It was almost as if he could feel the man’s mouth on his own cock. His body overheated and his cock inflated and he was gasping for air in the suddenly too-hot bar. His hand was under his shirt, his fingers teasing a nipple to hardness, his prick swelling inside his pants. He felt a hand on his shoulder, he felt himself pulled into an embrace, a kiss, and he moved his arms to attempt to surround the man whose tongue was shoving itself into his mouth, but he couldn’t manage it. The shoulders were too wide, the chest too big. The huge black man was kissing him and reaching his big hand down and pulling his jeans open. The huge black man moved his hand onto Murph’s stiff prick and slowly, slowly jacked him off. He could hear the sound of leather stretching, and the strong, powerful smell of the man filled his sense.
Derek was spellbound. He had often wished that something like this would happen, had even seen a porn video where this kind of thing occurred – but this was a thousand times better than the film. A million times better. The huge white dude, Chuck, the muscular ode to masculine perfection was going down on his friend Cal’s amazing cock. They all agreed he had an amazing cock. Derek was intensely familiar with Cal’s amazing cock, but he somehow doubted that Cal could even remember Derek’s name at the moment. His own cock was tingling and throbbing in his pants and he was rubbing his crotch with his hand when he heard something, some sort of sound half-familiar to him, the sound of leather moving, stretching, pulling tighter and tighter and he felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked over and down and the black dude, the gigantic black dude, his pants, his pants were pulling themselves apart, and his ass, his glorious ass, and his cock, his glorious cock, bigger than anything, fat and amazing and dripping with sex, and Derek fell to his knees and pushed his face into the black dude’s tight, muscular bubble butt and licked his hot, wet hole.
Chuck sucked Cal’s fat dick deeper inside his mouth. He felt the contours of the beautiful cock filling his mouth, felt the head shove against the back of his throat, smelled the boy’s scent growing stronger. He sucked against the hard shaft, pushed out his tongue and dragged its hot wetness across the inches of the boy’s firmness, tasting his musky tang, the salty goodness of him, and he swallowed and drank him inside.
Chuck moved his hand off the root of the prick and cupped the boy’s ballsack, feeling the two soft nuts inside, teasing them with his deft touch. He gently tugged and the cock swelled and lengthened before retreating. He felt every movement and sucked against the glossy skin. Chuck moved his middle finger underneath and rubbed it against the boy’s taint, gently, gently, making small circles and dragging his finger across the sensitive skin. A fresh, salty glob of precum bloomed inside his mouth and he swallowed it greedily, wanting nothing but more, more, more.
Cal sucked in a shuddering breath and felt his knees buckle. He wanted to fuck the man’s face, to drive the enormity of his hard, heavy cock deeper inside, to feel that gorgeous hot wetness bathing his entire huge prick, to feel that tingling sensation of utter bliss envelope him, and he placed his hands on either side of Chuck’s head and slowly, tentatively started to push himself inside.
Chuck started to slowly fuck Cal’s enormity with his mouth. He moved to swallow him whole, then pulled back slowly, so slowly that Cal could feel every inch withdrawing, realize the sensation of coolness as the air hit his cock and then feel it sink inside Chuck’s talented mouth again. His balls already ached, wanting to release an overload of hot cream, but he didn’t want this to stop, couldn’t stop it, chained inside the sensation of Chuck’s blow job, powerless to control it.
Murph’s cock stiffened and throbbed as Frazz stroked him. He’d had handjobs before, but never like this. The combination of the man’s mouth against his and the man’s huge hand caressing and rubbing his stiff prick was causing his toes to curl. The throbbing beat of the music all around him heightened the effect, or maybe it was the extremely public nature of it all. He was having sex with the hottest guy he’d ever seen, the dude was stroking his hard-on and kissing him like there was no tomorrow and suddenly, Murph was stripping his clothes off as fast as he could while attempting to maintain direct physical contact with this dude. When he was finally naked, stripped out of every stitch of clothing on his body, he wrapped his arms around the dude’s muscles and did not intend to let go.
Derek shoved his tongue inside Frazz’s ass and ate him raw. The man tasted good. He was deep and hot and sweet and salty. His butt was as smooth as a babie’s… well, a babie’s butt, but hard as steel. The dude was talented, there was no denying that. He was somehow managing to kiss Murph and give the guy a hand-job while Derek was eating him alive. Derek reached up and around to strip him out of his leathers and discovered that, somehow, he’d already managed it on his own. Where did the dude put his pants? But Derek only had a moment to contemplate the mystery before he realized that Murph, too, was suddenly butt nekkid and really going for it. What could Derek do but join the party?
Chuck was seriously precumming. By now, both dicks were engaged and ready to start streaming fountains of Transforming cream all over the bar, but he held it together somehow. :: Dude, I am right on the edge. ::
Frazz smiled against Murph’s mouth. :: No shit. I can feel you from over here. You need to tone it back a couple of notches. ::
:: Don’t know if I can, lover. This dude’s fat prick is so tasty. I need a lot more. ::
:: I know what you mean. But we need to cool it. ::
:: Look who’s talking! I ain’t the one getting a professional rim job while some other little stud is shoving his tongue in my mouth! ::
:: I highly doubt you could fit a tongue in your mouth, you look sort of busy. ::
:: Dude, have you checked out Paul? ::
:: Only so far as noticing that he’s already creamed the bar once, and he’s still stroking his joint – and it doesn’t look an inch shorter. ::
:: That’s some serious talent right there. ::
Frazz had to agree. The bar was a garden of male sexual aptitude. His hand roamed across Murph’s smooth skin and he pushed his tongue deeply into his mouth. He heard Chuck in his head again as his desire climbed another notch higher.
:: I’m seriously going to lose it in a minute. This dude’s cock is driving me batshit. I need to T him pronto so I can swallow both his dicks and drink down his load. ::
:: Not here. We’re on a mission, remember? Let’s get these dudes back to Michael’s place. There’s plenty of room there to watch them bust out of their old bodies, and I’m sure Carlos and Michael would appreciate some attention. I mean, there’s four of them, and only two of us. ::
:: Double teaming was never a problem before. ::
:: I’m just… ohhhhh, fuck me, but that feels good. :: Frazz moaned as Derek’s tongue dug in deep and warm, like a fat wet dick in his ass. :: If we’re gonna move, we need to move fast. I can feel the Transform bubbling up like lava and I want to start growing some muscle around here. ::
:: Okay, lemme get this boy off, no sense asking him to walk the streets of New York with a raging hard-on and blue balls. :: Chuck looked up into Cal’s eyes and smiled before flooding Cal’s stiff prick with waves of the Touch that cascaded into his body from the point of contact like liquid fire. His balls seized up, his cock swelled and Chuck’s muscled neck bulged as he swallowed every drop of Cal’s copious load down. He tasted good, salty and earthy, and he pumped a full dozen times before he had expended his hot cargo. Chuck sucked against him, drawing in every last morsel of his juices and licking his stiff cock clean before regaining his feet and winking at Paul.
He clapped his hands together and said, “Howzabout we take this party somewhere more private-like?” Frazz, Murph and Derek were all naked as the day they were born, and it didn’t look like any one of them had intentions of getting redressed to go anywhere.
“Dude,” breathed Murph, his cock a glazed triumph of male power, “I am so boned up I can hardly walk.”
“Why walk,” Chuck reasoned, “when you can fly?”
Flying, it must be pointed out, was always any Transformed man’s favorite mode of transport. Flying was the ultimate freedom, your naked body unbound by gravity, floating in the silent skies, caressed by the winds. Your body was impenetrable, unstoppable, but your senses were heightened to a superhuman degree so that you would experience every touch, every brush of a hand or lick of a tongue or pinch of a nipple, to a factor well beyond an ordinary man’s abilities. You were built for pleasure, the ability to withstand bullets and fire and pretty much anything else thrown at you was just an interesting side effect.
And even better than flying was what had come to be called flucking, or flying while fucking. “Let’s fluck,” was a common greeting between the brotherhood’s members, and if you wondered where your friend had gone to while you were checking out the prime meat on display at the beach, all you had to do was look up.
The lads from the bar in Manhattan used a backdoor to step into the alley behind the building. The reason for the subterfuge was three-fold. Primarily, it was because Paul didn’t want any trouble by parading a group of naked men out the front door. Secondly, they were a group of naked men and, although New York prides itself on a rather liberal acceptance of alternate modes of dress, there are still lawful limits on most days and evenings. Thirdly, there was the flying part.
Chuck, having stripped himself of clothing as they strode through the darkened bar, and Frazz, already naked, walked outside as naturally as any man would who was gifted with a perfect body and spent most of their time sans clothing anyway. Cal’s natural proclivity to a heightened sense of self worth meant that he, also, was handling the nudity well. His cock was only slightly wilted from its previous state and it bobbed and jerked as he walked. Derek and Murph were holding up admirably, given the situation, and looked more dazed than embarrassed by what was happening. Paul was about to close the door and return to his bartending duties when Chuck reached out, growled “Where do you think you’re going?” and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him outside with the others before surrounding him in his muscled arms and giving him one of his patented full-on deep kisses that roused Paul’s limp dick back to full, uncomfortable arousal.
Frazz looked at Chuck warily. “And how do you propose to do this?”
“Do what?” Cal asked.
Chuck shrugged. “Two ways I can think of. One involves transformation, one doesn’t. But doing the second one kind of gives the game away anyway, so I sort of favor the first one.”
Frazz glanced up the alleyway toward the street, watching the rush of people passing by. “Not exactly the most private of environments, though.”
Chuck arched a perfect eyebrow, following his gaze. “True.”
“Do what?” Cal repeated.
Chuck looked down at the young naked man and wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll leave it up to you guys, then. Do you want to wander over to our place looking like this,” he stated, holding his muscled arms out slightly to indicate the obvious nakedness of their situation, “Or would you rather avoid any public complications and get there via an alternate, potentially much weirder and certainly life-altering route?”
“I’m not following you.”
Paul put his hand on Chuck’s shoulder to get his attention, then drew it back quickly. “Jesus, you’re hard!”
“Well,” he said, grabbing his enormous but currently flaccid cock, “not presently.” Chuck’s smile was positively indecent.
“No, I mean… never mind.” His eyes moved across the muscled contours of Chuck’s incredible body before coming to rest on his face. He felt suddenly faint. “I just wanted to say that a conversation at this point isn’t advisable. If you’re going to move…”
“Say no more. Okay, dudes, show of hands; who here wants to look like Frazz and me?” Chuck swelled his musculature into thick relief, the bellies and cables growing thicker and more distinct. His cock grew inches longer and thick as a beer can. “Anyone? Anyone?” He continued to develop new muscle, his chest swelling outward with bands of brawn, the fibers growing and multiplying and dividing along the swollen globes, increasing the depth of the cleavage between his pecs by the inch. His lats flared outward under his arms, the biceps turned from oranges into grapefruits, the muscles lining his thighs carved themselves into his legs with deepening grooves.
His cock continued to grow as well, the head drooping and swelling, the shaft getting thicker and longer, and it looked like he was going to keep going until Frazz cleared his throat and Chuck realized that the reason no one was answering his question wasn’t because they couldn’t tell what was happening to him, it was because they were all either too shocked or too aroused or both to even think about talking.
“Oh.” He grinned a sideways smile and took a step toward Paul, who was still clothed in his jeans. “You look a little out of place,” he said. “Let me help you out of those clothes.” Chuck moved the palm of his hand to Paul’s cheek and brushed his skin gently. A rush of Transform accompanied that feather-light touch and instantly Paul’s body began swelling with power and size. The sound of ripping cloth echoed through the alleyway as Paul’s tight jeans split at the seams under the onslaught of Transform’s powerful evolution.
The others now turned their attentions to the growing man amongst them. Cal and Murph backed away as the man’s body grew into their personal spaces. A scent of something intensely sexual suddenly assaulted them as Paul’s body pumped out a thick cloud of his own personal male scent, tinged with whiskey and smoke and something floral or earthy, mingled in with the overwhelming and agreeable stink of sex. They watched his frame lengthen and heard bones crack and stretch as the bartender quickly assumed his new form.
Chuck gave him only a taste of the true source, just enough to allow him to pass into the stage where Chuck himself had been months ago, much larger, much stronger, oversexed and horny as hell, but with the added sense of seeing the sky and the wind in a much different light, one that would allow Paul to step into the embrace of the atmosphere and use the air to push himself into the heavens, to soar and dive and fly among the stars.
He watched the bartender’s face coalesce into a new form, a perfected version of his former visage. The tattoos that covered his arms and, he saw now, painted his chest and back and even some dark, tribal forks etched into the smoothness of his tight belly and groin were molding themselves to his new dimensions. Chuck had never witnessed anything like that, and it didn’t even occur to him that it could happen.
It was as if the body knew its own ink and was reshaping it to highlight the bulging masses of muscle appearing across its growing dimensions. The roses along his arms grew bright red and shining, the blood-tipped thorns looked almost real, as if his arms were truly entwined by the deadly flowers. The dark ink on his belly sank into the crevasses dividing his developing 8-pack. They stretched to continue to point to his burgeoning cock, and Chuck also saw now that the man had some metal embedded there, a heavy ring of steel piercing his cock head. Two small bars also passed through Paul’s nipples, but at the rate that everything was developing, Chuck was sure the man would need some much larger gauges very soon.
He found the sensation of watching this painted and pierced body growing extremely erotic. He watched Paul’s arms swell and the colors drilled into his skin grew more distinct and brighter, as if they had been put there only hours ago. The images of the muscled sailors and naked Tom of Finland fantasies grew more lifelike and beautiful, as the rainbow of hues regained their original brightness. He looked like a painted God, and Chuck wondered if his own morphing abilities would allow him to do that to himself – something to play with later.
After a few minutes, Paul’s rate of growth diminished and he stood now before them an improved and perfected man, having gained eight inches in height and untold pounds of muscular brawn. He retained his buzz-cut scalp and scruffy blond goatee, but his eyes were intensely blue. His skin was almost shining in the shadows of the alley, and the images that covered his body were now more distinct and vivid. He looked down at himself, running his huge paws over the painted flesh and bulging masses, then he looked up at Chuck and started to laugh.
“Fuck, that felt good! Do it again!”
“Okay,” he said, and he reached over to Cal and moved the tip of his index finger down the young man’s arm. He winked at Frazz and his dark-skinned lover stretched his arms out and placed his hands on the shoulders of the last two men to be gifted with the magic swimming inside his touch.
“Hey, what…?” Derek never finished his declaration. Cal and Murph never said a word. The boys simply stood in the alleyway and watched each other grow.