The HIMS.3 7

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Only one man would ever be able to tell the real reason behind the event, or events….that shook the university campus this evening. Ed a somewhat geeky young man who knew his way around the computer and then some, could wind up telling many about a computer game that changed many people’s world, and made him into a handsome athletic stud, but he would keep silent, and no one would ever know, but come to think it always was.

But not all the changes have happened just yet. For now Ed was on the floor, following an entire groping session with his new body. Once around average height, 5’6”, with a bit more to love at 230lbs, he was now 6’5” tall and 30 pounds heavier, all of it hard dense muscle. But he had just caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and somehow had to watch himself….touch himself….feel himself….see himself….see him touching himself…. And while he was a little repulsed at what he just done, and the fact that it produced a knob of flesh at the end of his member, he couldn’t help himself and he had to do it again.

Once more, he stared intently into the mirror and flexed his upper arm. Never before, save for the recent self love fest, had he seen it peak, pop, and bulge as large as it did. It was new. It was massive. It was handsome. It was….perfect. He kept lowering and rasing his forearm to pop the bicep into a tight peak. He other hand began to cup it, hold, rub it. He starting looking over at the now chubby, yet diminutive, Clint and become more and more aroused at how large, tall, broad, and built he was.

“Oooooh, yesssssssss.” Ed moaned as he caused his hand to cop a feel of his bicep, then glide its way down to the nearest pec and squeeze it there. He brought the flexing arm down to assuming the copping position, while the former copping hand, moved up his chest, his neck, face, to run its fingers through his now long, thick, platinum hair. He continued to play with his nips, abs, finally his cock, once more beginning to moan loudly, uncontrollably, staring at himself in the mirror becoming more and more obsessed and horny. Again it culminated in a convulsive fit of ecstasy, that once again, caused not a stream of jiz but caused the knob on the end of Ed’s prick to grow larger.

Meanwhile half-way across campus an anthropology class started in their seats when a series of two bells, normally not heard on campus, rang out loud and clear in the class room. Eventually the class settled down and all began to drift into a nodding state as the new professor began his lecture for the night. In the middle of this, Hank, sat in his chair, flushing extremely. He couldn’t see himself, but he could feel it. The heat rising inside of him coming from his toes, up his calves, through his thighs, across his…. NO! He won’t think about that, he mustn’t think about that. He shifted in his seat nervously. He was wearing brand new clothes he wasn’t used to. Hell, he was wearing a brand new body he wasn’t used to, having grown 4” in a couple of days, and was starting to fill out a little bit.

Not only was Hank feeling a bit flushed, he felt as if he had a headache. Not quite a headache, but something similar, as if he spent too much time, over thinking… Now he was beginning to feel uncomfortable in his clothes too. He felt encumbered by them. The restricted his movement. They were beginning to feel tight. In fact, he thought his desk-seat was feeling to small, tight, restrictive. Suddenly, something caught his attention. A date. A date mentioned by this new professor. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but Hank knew…it was wrong.

“Excuse me professor, shouldn’t that date be around 30,000 B.C.?”

The professor came to an abrupt halt in his speech and walking pattern. “Pardon?”

“The date, sir you gave for that event, shouldn’t that be 25,000 B.C.?”

“No. It shouldn’t.”

The professor continued on as if nothing happened. However, that little exchange woke Amanda up from her doldrums and she sat eyeing her new boyfriend, sitting right beside her. What a man. Yes, he was geeky before, but he was hitting a late growth spurt and the changes were very nice. Maybe he wasn’t as big as her old boyfriend, Clint, but if this one filled out, he’d have some strength and lots of brains too. She liked that very much. She sat eyeing him, wondering how big Hank would fill out. She stared hard. She just bought him that outfit before class, yet it seemed as though it was a little snug. She looked him over and thought the cuffs of his shirt and his pants were barely stretching down to cover the wrists and ankles. Was he growing right here and now. The thought kind of excited her.

Hank’s hand shot up again. “Sir, I believe that period was renamed two years ago.”

Was he correcting his teacher?

“No, young man, it was not.”

Hank let out a bit of heavy sigh, almost sounding a little like a growl, but on the exhale, he seemed to inflate.

“Yes, sir. It was. The International Council of Anthropological Studies voted to do so, two years ago.”

“No young man it was not, now please don’t interrupt me again.”

Once more Hank breathed deeply and again on the exhale he expanded. His brand new sweat suit was now looking like something that was the 8th grade outfit on a 10th grade boy. Not real small, but definitely too small, too hugging. Amanda thought about the idea of him expanding, and had to shift in her seat.

The professor once again pointed out the period, adding to his normal speech that Master Hank was incorrect in his frosh-like studies. This pissed Hank off, for somehow, he just knew he was right. His fingers opened his textbook and flipped through them feverishly.

“Page 379!”

The instructor abruptly halted once again. “I beg your pardon, Master Hank.”

“Page 379, in our text book, it refers to that period in time as something completely different. Why is that.”

“I’m most certain you are mistaken, sir.”

“grrrrrrrr.” Sssstreeeeetch.

The professor attempted to continue on with his lecture.

“Wrong period.”

“I have the name of the period correct, child! I have the degree in this not you.”

Rip. Stretch. Pop. Amanda looked over at Hank and noticed the hems and cuffs of his shirt and pants had moved up past the wrists and ankles and were getting caught on some new significant buldges appearing on Hank’s frame. She moaned slightly.

“ooooh.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but it is right here in black and white in both this text book and the secondary reference one you gave us. Not only that but that particular event both list has happening the age after the one you’re talking about.”

“Do not proceed to tell me my craft, young man. I know what I’m talking about, and although new I even have book published on the subject. You will not correct me again!”

Ssstreeeetch! Rip. Pop pop pop

“I am paying for this class, sir, and if I feel, or more correctly know, that the information being taught to me is incorrect, I will bring it up as a point to have the matter corrected. The event you’re talking about happens in the next period. The period you’re covering is referred to now by a different name, and what’s more you have the start date for that period off by almost 5,000 years.”

SSSTRRRRIIIIIP! POP POP

Amanda, totally enraptured by the new found confidence of her new man, watched him verbally stand up to the professor, correcting him, and then watch as the his pant legs crept up higher, clung even tighter, his shoes form fitting around his feet, the sides beginning to split, the toes poking up pressing the tops.

“Oh…god….”

“I assure you and the whole class that have this entire subject…well….in….hand! Now this event, by the Mesopotamians….”

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! It was the Hittites that did that, the event you’re wanting to mention was this advent here, listed on page 365 in the book.”

“You will keep your peace, sir! Or I will have you banned from this class!”

The teacher moved forward to talk down to Hank, still sitting in his chair, although finding it harder and harder as the student’s knees were beginning to grind into the chair. More rips and tears were heard to reverberate through the classroom, and suddenly everyone, save Amanda, leaped back in shock. Hank’s clothes now begin to burst down each and every seem: the calves splitting the pant’s hems, the collar ripping down the front of his chest, the waist band digging into this mid section, his toes bursting forward from his shoes and the meaty sides come out from well… the sides.

Hank winced a little, the space between floor and desk bottom now too small for his legs, but nothing could be done about that now, as his muscles were swelling with new size, power, and hence weight, which helped keep his own self pinned down in the seat.

“Hmmmm, nnnnnn.” Amanda slightly forgetting herself began to rub herself on her inner thigh.

“Then explain to me, why you can’t simply relook this information up in the textbook, or tell us why it presents it differently. These are new, printed this year, textbooks, so they should have the most current view on studies.”

“I am a professor and I do not need to explain myself to you! You impossible upstart!”

Strrrrrrrip! RIIIIIIP! POP POP! CRACK!

Suddenly the board creating the desk part of the desk-seat popped off the metal frame, split in two. Hank’s two knees rose above it, and now had room to breathe, or more correctly grow. At the same time, his muscles swelled faster, thicker, harder. So fast, for an instant, the pythons that grew on top, running criss-cross over his body, could be seen clearly through the fabric of the straining sweat suit, before it gave way splitting here, there, and everywhere. The calves began the splits, followed by the thighs making the pants something akin to grass skirt simply hanging off the waist line. The chest continued to expand splitting the shirt down the front, while the lats caused the sleeves to split from the torso at the armpit seam. The shoulders and traps continued that rip all the way around the top, while the biceps and triceps and forearms ballooned such as to make the sleeves appear to shatter not rip. The finally pop was the sound of the bridge of Hank’s foot causing the bow knot to break apart from the top of his sneakers.

Amanda caught every bit of it and squeeled in delight.

“OH!... OH! FUCK!”

Hank by now had become aware of Amanda’s assessment of what was happening to him and out of the corner of his eye began to watch her. He’d debate with the professor, he’d feel hot and flushed, he’d watch the desk and the professor get smaller, his clothes become tighter, she’d moan and groan, stretch in her seat?

His clothes almost non existent, he continued to correct the professor, he’d burn even hotter, the room seemed to get smaller, Amanda would moan louder, groan, her boob expand?

He stood up corrected the professor again on another point, his underwear moved up into the crack of his ass, the waist band of his sweat suit gave way the impromptu hula skirt fluttering to the ground, more moans, groans, the sound of orgasm coming from Amanda, her blouse splitting down the front, her mini skirt splitting up the sides, her shoes coming undone feet exploding out of them.

One final correction, Hank felt the heat flushing in again, he was swelling with more power, with more intelligence, with more manliness as his cock and balls now threatened to tear his underwear from his body in front of the whole class. Amanda now swelled to wear her skirt was a ring of strips, her hose had tons of runs in them from foot to hip, her blouse began to strip n rip and almost fall away from her body…..

Suddenly Hank said, “Screw you, you ingnorant fuck!” grabbed Amanda, pressing her chest against his and carried her out into the hall and to a nearby bathroom.

 

Still, in the acrobatic hall, Dominic and Dmitri were practicing their routines on the parallel bars. Dmitri was spotting Dominic. He was little off in doing so, he felt his face twinge and tingle, slight flash of color before his eyes, but still those eyes began to focus more and more on his friend, Dominic. There was something about him….so familiar, so primal, so…right.

Whomp, step step step…

“Yo, Dmitri, wake up!”

“Huh?”

“Ya missed spotting me on my landing.”

Dmitri shook his head. “Sorry, bro. I didn’t mean…”

“Bro?”

“What?”

“Never called me that before.”

“Sorry.”

“No, s’okay. Kinda like it.”

Dominic started to approach the bars to continue practice, but stopped momentarily. “You been hittin’ the weights with someone else?”

“N..n..no. Why?”

“Ya look a lil’ heavier…pretty good, suits you.”

Dmitri blushed a bit. “Thanks” He noticed however, Dominic looked like he has been lifting a lil’ more as well.

Tumble and tumble, flip, and hand stand, over and under the bars Dominic went. Again, he practiced a dismount. WHUMP!

“Whoa! Jeese Dom, eating you’re Wheaties?”

“What?”

“That was a damn solid landing. Sounded a lot harder than usual. Sure you’re not working out more.”

“Why?” He flexed his arm and kind of jerked back in surprise. “Wow… that’s kind of a pop isn’t it. Must be working my arms too hard. I guess I look a little fuller. Well….again.”

Dominic leaped upon the bars and once again performed his routine. He was doing fine, double checking before he made certain moves to make sure Dmitri was spotting him. Upon one glance however, his concentration was broken at the site of his friend and he tumbled off the apparatus. WHAM!

Dmitri shook his head in disbelief. “Damn, dude, what happened? You just lost your concentration.”

“How can I not. I didn’t notice it before, but Dmitiri, have you seen yourself. You’re oozing out of your gymnastics uniform there. That wife beater section might as well be a thong. How are you adding the weight? Better pare down before you get too heavy.”

“Look who’s talking. That chest of yours is about to rip the shirt apart.”

“Whatever….” And Dominic hopped up again trying to get through the routine one more time. A hand stand here and flip there… in the middle of one tumble and into a press up to a handstand…. RIIIIIP, RIIIP…. At that sound Dominic flipped off the bars.

“Dmitri, what the hell are you eating and are you changing sports on me? Look at you man, all swollen, veiny, and taller?”

“You’re freakin out on something, bro. Look.” And he stood toe to toe with his friend. “We’re the same height eye to eye.”

“Yeah, but your shirt is split open, just from standing there, and the legs are torn too.”

Dominic looked to find tears and splits in his uniform, but looking from the ground up back at his friend noticed the same from him.

“Well, you’re in hulkified clothes as well.”

“We can’t be getting bigger. This has gotta be some kind of joke. I bet someone has switched outfits on us, given us the junior high set as a joke as of how short we are.”

“Yeah… gotta be it.”

Once again, Dominic up on the bars began his routine once again. Only a fourth of the way through, Dmitri stops him.

“Whoa…whoa…WHOA DUDE!”

Dominic dismounts. THUD! “What?!?”

“You’ve gained way too much weight and they’ve shortened the practice bars or something.”

“What?!?”

“The bars man are bending, somethin’ fierce and by bending I mean they’re bowing. And, your feet are scrapping the floor, that means you’ve gotta be taller or they shortened the bars. And look at you now! Your shirts just hanging down around your waist and you might as well not wear any pants, the condition those are in.”

Dominic turned around and ripped off three strips from one side of Dmitri’s waist. “Same goes for you. Hulk. Come on, help me raise the bars up.”

Dmitri sighed a little, shaking his head. Dominic came over and placed his arm around his buddy’s shoulder. He paused a little noticing their skin tone was the exact same color and how the mop of hair on his friend’s head matched his own in color, wave, and style.

“Come on, bro. buck up! We can get through this. We’re brothers of this sport, we can get through anything.”

Dmitri nodded his head okay. “We might as well get rid of these. We’re all alone here tonight, who’ll see.” Dominic ripped his shirt and what was left of the leotards off and mounted the bars once again, after Dmitri ripped his threads off of him and both were in their straps. Flip, spin, hand stand, back flip, mid air summersault, landing… CRACK! The bars snapped in two upon taking the weight of Dominic. He would’ve gone sprawling to floor, but Dmitiri came in to save him catching him as best as he can, Dmitri pulled Dominic in close and began to stumble backwards. Finally coming to an abrupt rest against a wall, they lost their grip on each other, Dominic moving in completely face to face, chest to chest, legs to legs next to one another. They stood their motionless for a moment, catching their breath until both of them looked at one another and exclaimed “You look exactly like me!”

They continued to stare at each other for a long time. Finally Dmitri, blushed, rubbing a hand over Dominic’s shoulders. “You’re huge…”

Dominic stared at Dmitri for a while, moved in and gave him a mouth to mouth full nelson. Upon coming up for air, Dominic grabbed Dmitri’s crotch, which had torn free from its strap and was standing proud. “You’re huge too….”

“No..this isn’t right…we’re…brothers….”

“What could be better than making love to one’s self?”

Dmitri paused for a moment and answered, “Making love to one who is exactly like, but not one’s self.”

The two tumbled on the mat for a while before one of them decided to be the pinned man. Neither one of them noticing the names of the top gymnasts at the school now read Dominic and Dmitri Totalelo instead of Totalovich and D’Angelo.

 

While this was playing out, Ed was in the middle of what was his one-hundredth orgasm over his own self. Each time the growth on the end of prick became bigger and bigger and bigger. It became the size and shape of a baby, a small child, a teenage, a young man, a full grown young man, a linebacker. Ed could feel something was wrong, somehow he knew this wasn’t right. His lust though was still rising in him once again, and he began to flex his muscles, feel his self up, stroke his own cock, yet each time he did, the entity growing at the end of his cock did the same thing.

In between the moans and groan, he began to think, “No… this is not right.”

Stroke, stroke….STROOOKE! “No, this can not be.”

Grope, GROPE, GROOOOOPE! “I don’t want this.”

Cop, COP, COOOOOOOOOP! “I’m not not in love with this thing…”

Flex, FLEX, FLEEEEEEEX! “I’m not in love with….with…..”

And upon the next round of gropping, feeling, flexing, popping, the thing looked up right into Ed’s eyes and he saw his own face, but he was now reaching climax.

“No!..... I….I…..Ic….Ic…..Ican..na… I canna….I can..not be….IN LOVE WITH MYSELF! AAAAAAUUGHGHHHH!”

And upon his climax, blowing his wad, Ed jerked back and the entity detached from him, both of them spewing wad after copious wad of cum all over the floor and the mirror that triggered Ed’s first narcissistic reaction. The look alike Ed collapsed to the floor, while real Ed fell back against a wall. The whole time Clint had been there, horrified, mortified over what was taking place. Not only had Ed stole his natural athletic abilities, muscle, height, but now he had created a twin of himself?!? This would never do. Clint looked around and saw where Ed was leaning. He threw himself down under Ed’s legs while Ed was weak from the orgasms and stumbling off the wall. This cause Ed to fall into a door way, which when he tried to grab the wall for support, found none there and pitched himself through it, into the other half of the locker room that could be sectioned off for visiting teams. Clint slammed the door shut and barred it.

Turning around, he glanced at the twin Ed. It still was motionless on the floor.

“Got to find something to take care of him before he wakes up. Need something to give me an upper hand… too small now….but first…gotta close and lock the main door to the visiting locker room.” And off Clint went to begin correcting the night’s events.

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