Transform: New Blood 20
by AKA
Jason put his electronic book reader down and took a deep breath to try calm his ever-growing and constant sexual hunger. He was already rubbing his hand across the firm contours of his cock as it pulsed and throbbed in his tight pants. He could feel the tingling rush of another gush of precum as it shoved its way up the thick inches of his prick, bringing its familiar warm sensation of pleasure. He swallowed and closed his eyes and tried hard not to succumb to its invitation, hearing the warning voice in his head again.
He sucked a slow breath through his nostrils and clenched his hands into fists as his body experienced another hot rush of sexual power. It started from his cock and balls and traveled through his thighs and wrapped around his ass and shot down his legs. It caressed his belly and rubbed itself against the small of his back and spread like hot cream across his skin and sank into his muscles and licked his nipples. It ran its hands across the globes of his chest and dug its fingers into the curls of dark hair before stroking his neck and brushing its warm wetness against his lips. For a long moment his slowly developing body was wrapped up in its embrace, and his cock released another warm flow of clear honey that his balls were producing in such unending abundance.
Just as quickly, his body absorbed the honey before it could spread a wet stain on his crotch and he felt the oddly rejuvenating powers that made him feel a touch stronger, and a bit bigger, and more powerfully sexual. He released his breath in a slow shaking gust and pulled his hand away from the massive tube of meat swelling along one thigh. He tried not to look down at its obvious outline pressing insistently against the stretchy fabric of the odd garment he’d been given to wear. He knew he would be able to see the flaring ridge of the helmet and every thick vein winding along its extensive and substantial shaft. He might even see it lengthen and swell, as it had been doing ever since he had become infected.
It was easier now to think of what was happening to him in those terms, because what else could it be called? It had been explained to him that he had been exposed to this disease, and even though he actually had never felt better in his life, he realized that he was being slowly altered by its cancerous growth. It was how he found himself sequestered in this small room with its clean white walls. There was no television in here, and no windows, and no mirrors. There was a bed, and a desk, and a chair. There was his book, that would be replaced when he had finished it, and there was the light overhead and the locked door to the rest of the hospital.
He was, he understood, extremely contagious. Whatever this thing was that was altering him so substantially, it could be passed on by proximity alone, an airborne virus so virulent that infection was 100% probable for anyone exposed to him. So he was kept alone and sequestered, receiving only occasional visitors who would attempt to take samples of his body fluids and ask him questions and try to keep him from becoming too scared about what was happening to him.
He looked down his body, sheathed in its white skin-tight jumpsuit, and felt the familiar chill of lust pass through him. All he could see was muscle, mounds of massive masculine power that was slowly growing across every inch of his body. He watched the 8-pack of abdominals on his tight belly swell and recede as he breathed. He saw the huge mountains of his chest bulging and the huge balls of power on his arms flex and protrude under the shiny material. He could see the finger-thick vein that wound across the peak of his bicep, and he twisted his arm slightly to watch it move. The muscle split into distinct peaks and he knew without touching it how hard it was, and that it would continue to grow larger and get harder and harder and he never had to lift a weight to watch it continue to develop.
He knew he was huge, but he wasn’t sure how huge he was. The orderlies or doctors or scientists or whatever they were who came in were all much smaller than he was, though it was hard to judge whether they were simply short people or he was really, really tall. His rate of growth, they told him, would continue to accelerate, and the feeling of his muscles and body continually swelling was both weird and sexy. Every now and then he’d feel a kind of adjustment happen, when his skeleton snapped or popped and he would be suddenly inches taller than he was, and then his muscles would swell with sudden size, bulging fatter by the inch and then settling back to a hardness he could not penetrate even using his own mighty strength.
He was certainly wider than he had been, because measuring himself against the locked door proved he would have a hard time, now, moving smoothly through it. His head was already higher than the threshold, and his shoulders were much wider than the frame. He had long ago outgrown his bed as well, but he was comfortable enough on the floor. He had no concept of time and found that he was rarely tired. More than anything, he was bored. Well, not exactly more than anything.
More than anything, he was horny.
It was to be expected, he’d been told, because of the disease. It played with that part of his head. It made him think of sex constantly, and kept his body primed and ready for it at all times. As there were no mirrors in the room, and very few visitors, he had almost no visual stimulation that might ordinarily make his teenaged brain head in that direction, but he simply couldn’t help himself. He determined to keep his clothing on to try and stem the strong tide of sexuality that permeated every waking moment. His hands on his own skin drove him to states of sensual ecstasy that were hard to control. The material was stretching to accommodate his ever-growing frame, but it was also, as a result, so tight against his body that he might as well be naked. He understood why no clothing was being provided for him, he’d only contaminate it and outgrow it in a matter of hours. Still, he wished there was a way to keep his hands off himself.
Because that only fed the virus, or whatever it was. That’s what they told him. He had inadvertently accelerated the effects by, well, fucking the living daylights out of all those guys at school. They all had it now, too, to varying degrees. He’d infected them and now they were all here, or so they told him. He wondered if they were pissed at him for this, for making them into the same kind of freak that he was. He wondered why he could not see them now that they were already infected, if for no other reason than to give him an outlet for the intense and overwhelming sexual power coursing through his growing body. He thought about kissing Matt and Kevin, feeling their soft lips against his, and letting them suck on his giant prick. He thought about Coach Tucker and found his cock stretching and growing fat and hard, slowly inflating and growing hotter against his thigh, stretching the material as it swelled to its full, awful size.
God, it was so big! What was he going to do with it? A fresh tingle of electric sexual power throbbed along its mammoth shank and he reached down to it again, feeling the hardness of it as it grew, the heat it gave off. That smell filled the room again, a faint earthy sort of smell that he could detect but that others could smell like an overwhelming stink, or so they said. He wondered what it was, and why it kept happening. He liked the smell, actually, and enjoyed smelling it whenever it happened.
There was a sound at the door as it was unlocked and one of the small dudes in the hazmat suits came in. He looked very tiny to Jason, but that didn’t do anything to curb a sudden desire to rip the man’s clothes off his body.
“I think that smell is back,” he warned, the depth of his voice surprising him again. He rarely spoke to anyone, and each time he did it seemed like his voice was deeper.
Jason smiled at the man, who gestured for him to sit on the bed. The man took another syringe in his hand from the metal tray he’d pulled in after him. There were several syringes on the blue cloth, and all of them were empty. They wanted more blood. Jason sighed and rolled his eyes and sat down, the mattress sagging under his weight. The man looked so tiny, even when Jason was sitting. Everything looked so small.
“Sorry, Mr. McDonald,” the man said, his voice sounding weird and electrified through the mask. “Could I have your arm, please?”
Jason shrugged as he pushed the thin sleeve of the stretchy garment up his right arm. He revealed a limb overwhelmed with muscularity, the skin shining and beautiful, and a network of veins crawling across the fibers and cables of power. The arm seemed to throb as the muscle grew under his silky skin. “No prob,” he said simply. He was used to this. It was a daily – at least, he thought it was a daily ritual. What day was it, anyway?
“What day is it?” he asked softly. The sound of his deep voice echoed powerfully against the walls, throbbing back at him invitingly. The man stood before him. He looked shapeless in his yellow plastic suit. Jason felt a sudden urge to lick him all over. His cock jerked happily and a surge of precum erupted.
“Tuesday,” the man answered, applying the tip of the needle against Jason’s skin after cleaning the spot with an alcohol swab. He pushed the shiny point into the flesh and Jason watched the needle start to bend without penetrating. The steel was making a small dent in his skin but could not push its pinpoint into his muscle. The more the man pushed, the more the needle bent. Jason smiled in spite of himself, and turned his arm slightly to make the muscles bunch and flex.
“Sorry,” he said. “Maybe the other arm?” He started to roll up his left sleeve, revealing more of his flawless skin and finely detailed muscles. The man was trembling slightly as he reached around to the tray and placed the bent needle on it, grabbing a fresh one. He swabbed up the skin to a bright sheen and grabbed Jason’s huge arm in his small hand, this time attempting to plunge the metal through the rock-hard muscle and into a vein.
The needle broke clean in two.
The man sighed through his electronic voicebox. Jason’s smile stayed glued on his full lips and a hint of teeth broke through. “Maybe another place?” He stood up and turned around so that his ass was in the man’s face, or where his face would be if it weren’t masked by the hazmat suit. Jason slipped his fingers into the slim separation between the top and the bottom of his slick white covering and started to peel the pants downward, revealing his perfect butt inch by inch.
That strange and alluring smell increased in the room as Jason’s balls dropped free and he bent over to allow the man to see one of the most perfectly developed muscular bubble butts in the free world. Jason’s fat, cream-filled balls churned and throbbed with the wealth of his cum, and his cock stretched itself a few inches longer with pride. Jason pushed his ass back toward the man and slipped his hand across the smooth, beautiful contour of his left butt cheek. “Try there,” he said politely. He peered over his massive shoulder at the man, adding, “I think that area is slightly less firm. Although I’ve been told it’s very, very tight.” Jason winked and started to laugh a low rumble in his massive chest.
The man reached for another syringe and Jason arched his back slightly, raising the two firm globes of his butt into the man’s face. He reached down to his hungry prick and started to slowly stroke himself, almost unaware of what he was doing. His cock happily obliged his attentions by delivering a steady stream of lubing precum that flowed freely over his large hand as he sank deeply into the overwhelming tide of sexual bliss his body delivered in such amazing and ungodly amounts.
The man paused as he observed the actions of the young man who looked nothing short of perfect. The boy’s rosy hole seemed to be begging him inside, and he could feel his own cock starting to throb and swell. He quickly set the syringe down and began to move from the room, scared now that his suit wasn’t offering him the full protection he desperately needed within this room. The boy must be releasing copious amounts of pheromones if he could sense them. How powerful was this man? What would he become before he was done changing?
Jason looked around at the sound of the man’s movement and straightened up, his giant erection in one hand, his other reaching toward the retreating man. “What’s wrong?” he asked. His voice seemed supercharged with desire and lust, it seemed to be pulling at the man physically. “Where are you going?”
The little man watched the boy swell with muscle in front of him. He could see the other man’s body literally growing in front of his eyes. The muscles along the arm reaching toward him swelled outward, the cables of brawn multiplying under the skin. The man was growing more powerful, stronger, even more sexually charged. His cock was streaming something that looked like clear honey, it flowed down the thick, red pole like syrup as the muscular giant slowly stroked his mammoth hard-on. “I need another needle,” he said slowly. He was reaching for the door handle behind him, unable to take his eyes off the half-naked sex-god before him.
Jason reached toward the man with his precum-coated hand, grabbing the man’s shoulder and gently pulling him back. “Please don’t leave,” he said, his voice a rich deep intonation of desire. “Just let me kiss you.”
“Kiss…?” The man’s hands raised to his mask.
Jason stepped closer, two feet taller than the other man, his body swelling with power, blooming with sexuality. He was releasing an overwhelming fog of pheromones, his cock pulsed and throbbed, his balls drooped with their load. “One kiss,” he said. “Just one kiss.”
“I want…” was all the man managed to say before the door opened swiftly and two other hazmat-cloaked figures grabbed him and dragged him from the room. Jason’s hand fell back to continue stroking his massive meat, and as he closed his eyes a sudden fountain of incandescent pearly cream erupted from his dick and splattered against the closing door. Another round and another erupted from his giant cock and he felt some relief from the constant thrumming sexual desire that pulsed through him every second.
The smell was so strong now that even Jason could sense its power. He closed his eyes and pulled it into his lungs, the smell of pure male sex, and it empowered his libido and sent his hard cock into spasms of new growth. He felt his dick swelling outward in his grip, and he looked down and watched himself growing longer and fatter. A fresh flow of precum was coating the helmet and he reached his mouth down to suck on his own cock, reveling in the intense pleasure before allowing his balls to let loose another thick torrent of salty cream that he swallowed with eager pleasure.
A feeling of warm erotic joy erupted inside him and his body swelled with power. He smiled and continued to suck on the fount of his power, closing his eyes and fantasizing that Coach Tucker was there with him in his small cell, sucking his dick and growing stronger by the second.