I was a College Weresinewa
by F_R_Eaky
My name Stephen Werdun. My name is an appropriate place to start my tale, or more specifically my surname is. It would be pronounced like the two English words "where done." Which if one really asked that question, helps begin my tale. My surname's meaning connects me to the beginning of my story and yet describes me at the end. It is a very old, ancient, and almost completely unused surname now. It is a combination of two words from the Anglo-Saxon language, or Olde English,: wer, meaning "man" and dun, meaning "mountain." I know... looking at me that just seems like an ironic kind of thing to have as a last name doesn't it? But I wasn't always this size, musculature or height.... or even my package. Not that I mind my size. No, really I love it. It was my fantasy ever since I was small, both as a child and an adult. I'm very proud that I've also been able to keep this size up naturally too.
However, I tell my story as how I got this size because no one should want to go through it. It's very unnatural, psychologically screws with one's mind, and makes one's life utter hell until the process is complete. I tell my tale as a warning. Unless you have both the knowledge of what is happening and friends to assist one, it can go terribly wrong. I, luckily, had both. Although, I only received one after the incident started and my friends didn't become supportive until about three-fourths of the way through the process. Hence why I am such a freak... such a "man-mountain." Perhaps my name was meant to be a forewarning..."man mountain" and that the word "wer" for man also begins the word, werewolf. Which is kind of what this story is.
But we'll start this tale by answering the question my name sounds like, "Where done?" That was Trinity College, Cambridge, United Kingdom. I was a special exchange student there for one year, studying of all things....theology. I was a mess inside, although I looked completely composed on the outside. I was all of five feet, six inches tall, and about one-hundred and ten pounds....dry. Sopping wet only added about five more pounds of water weight. Very light brown, wiry hair, and hazel eyes. I tried to grow a little bit of a beard to make myself look more adult, manly, but I could go for a whole month without shaving and it barely looked like a five-o'clock shadow. Still I was clean, in good school clothes, worn correctly, bright eyed and alert, organized, attentive, had high marks in all my classes.
Yet, I was troubled. I was studying for a degree in theology, to become a minister, but I had trouble reconciling a deep feeling inside... ... ... I liked men. I was gay... I knew I was gay, but everything I had read about my faith said it was a sin, so I tried to hide it. Well, that secret and all my life was about to be thrown completely into open. I was returning to the dormitory one Friday night, after a round or four...five... six... at a local pub with some few friends I made. I was alone as I had excused myself early to stumble back to the dorms. Well, being almost half a foot shorter and anywhere from twenty to one-hundred twenty pounds lighter than the rest of my pals, I was nowhere near the capability of holding liquor, beer, ale, the way they could. My pass out point was several hours before theirs.
So... I was taking a street near the edge of town, where there was some kind of park, or edge of a forest, an area dense with trees. I wanted to take a long way around to walk off some of my inebriation, clear my head. I didn't want to make a bad impression suddenly becoming a drunk foreigner stumbling into bed. It was from that thicket of trees I heard a rustling sound. No...it was more of a crunch. It got louder still... it wasn't a crunch, it was a crack. An enormous ear shattering splintering sound of lots of wood just suddenly being broken in two. Then the sound was right behind me. I turned towards the forested area in time to see two of the largest trees, grown quite close together, come falling down as though simply pushed over. Then I saw what came between them and realized they were simply pushed over.
There....there.... in what was once a space that was even too small for me to fit in between was a man. Not just any man, but one whom I would describe as being the man. He was tall, he was broad, he was built like a brick wall, as in the brick wall that made the Great Wall of China! He was also... hung. Dear lord, this man was running around naked! Suddenly I felt as if all eyes were upon me, as if I were a rat in a maze in a scientific experiment. I looked again and realized, to my horror, the man was staring straight at me, and although I couldn't quite see his face yet, I had a sense of foreboding that the look was of pure lustful rage. I turned and began to run on the spot.
Of course, that running before this man did mattered none whatsoever. His long, long, thick legs were of such great stride and such powerful force it was just a matter of minutes before he was upon me, lifting me up one handed by my throat. I thought it was end of my life, and still as scared as I was, I became aroused. How could I not be? His hand, his single hand, completely engulfed my puny neck. I could feel so much strength in just his hand and fingers. Feel the huge meatiness of it as it wrapped tightly around my neck, threatening to choke the air from me. My hands went to flailing, finally grabbing on and punching the arm connected to that hand. It was thick too...and hard....huge....bulging with muscle, sinew, tendons, ligaments, striations. It felt like I was grabbing onto a column, as if I were punching granite. No it was smooth to the touch, like punching marble. My fingers were bruising, swelling, and not a mark was happening to his arms.
I tried desperately to breathe. Sometimes in great gulps and gasps of air from my mouth, other times through my nose. There was a stench. Oh shit... this man reeked. Yet, I had to sniff again. It wasn't quite a human smell... no, it was, but it was a throwback to a kind of man from eons ago. He stunk of musk. I went limp and began to try to breathe slowly, rhythmically, so I could die with this perfume on my mind. A heady mixture of male musk, male sweat, and the woods. I developed a hard on, on the spot. I have never become so rigid so fast in all my life. Not that one could tell. I don't think I was even three inches when hard.
Despite not being able to see any kind of tenting in my pants, this man knew.... he knew I was aroused, and although he looked at me as if I was some kind of reject, I knew he was going to take me. Still I felt horrible inside. He looked at me like a pro fisherman does at some competition gone wrong. It's the final minutes of the competition and his line goes down, the whole pole almost pulled into the water. He works and struggles, reels and pulls, and yet when all is done, for all that show and exertion, it is a fish too small to keep, that must be thrown back. Still, he would have me. Making some kind of grunting noise, a growl?... a howl? This gargantuan of a bodybuilder, still holding me in the air, takes his other hand, grabs my waist band and shucks my pants right off of me in one clean jerk. The force of his pull even takes my shoes off.
This is it. I'm going to die. He's going to have his way with me and split my ass and my lower torso in two. I know because although I can't see anything past his mammoth forearm, the shadow on the ground showed he was endowed....very endowed, and it was even growing bigger as he became erect. He seemed to pause as if trying to decided if I was enough to take, to deal with. Yet a sinister smirk came across his face dove his face right into my crotch, sucking my tiny cock so hard it felt as though I had it caught in a pool filtration system.
That's when the change in direction and fate occurred.
"Oi! What is all this then? WHAT IS ALL THIS THEN!" A local policeman on beat had come across us. This was soon followed by several shouts from my friends who had left the pub and were travelling the same long walk about I had decided to take.
"Stephen?"
"Hey, Steve! Is that you?"
"What the fuck are you doing to him?"
"Office, pull out a tazer, a gun, or something. That's our friend!"
The officer first used a tazer, shooting out wire connected darts at the behemoth that held me. It had little to no effect. The man simply wrapped a paw around the wires pulled and broke them while in the middle of being shocked. He went back to continuing to suck me. The next sound though was of a loud bang, and suddenly I felt pain like no other. The creature being shot in the shoulder, reacted to the pain by flinching, and part of the flinching had him clinch his teeth. This meant that four of his overly developed canines came biting down and into me: two in my cock and two in my balls, one each. I screamed out in pain. The creature looked up from my crotch, growling. He looked to see the policeman standing with a gun, and my friends quickly starting to form a circle around him. His giant paw of a hand released me and he darted back towards the trees.
I'm not sure what happened next. I fell, and fell hard, limp the entire way down, so I had no way to catch myself or roll. I was told I banged my head hard upon the concrete sidewalk. A very serious concussion. Some friends and the policeman gave chase into the woods, but couldn't catch up with him. They would've had an excellent trail to follow him what with all the broken trees and sizeable footprints, but it gave way to a clearing and a road, and on the other side of that some footprints of good size, but nothing near what the man who held me had. The trail was lost and the other footprints were thought to be of other victims the man had.
I awoke in the early hours of the evening the next day. A couple of my friends were there keeping watch.
"Steve-o....welcome back. You had us worried there mate."
"How...how long have I been out?"
"Since one in the morning when we found you being attacked. It's five-thirty now. They've been trying to rouse you, make sure you're ok. Nasty concussion you have. They were very worried."
"Yes, but even more worried or perplexed. The concussion has been healing at a tremendous rate. It should be taking months to heal, but you're about half-way healed now. Doctors are baffled. We're glad though you got moved from intensive care."
Thomas and Pick. Two very nice guys. Thomas is studying theology too. Pick is studying business economics. His real name is George Pickles. He hates his first name, and of course tries to hide his surname, but he has a bit of a mischievous streak in him, like the Shakespeare character, Puck. So his buddies decided, he's kind of like him, but yet still original, so they just shortened his surname for his nickname. The two explained that they didn't find nor catch my attacker, that they had to leave soon, needing to get back to homework and some chores, but that they were setting up a rotation of friends to visit and keep me up to date with homework and studies if needed. They gave me brotherly hugs and left. Not too long after an orderly came in and seeing I was awake asked if I wanted dinner. I said, "Yes."
I went to sleep shortly after dinner, and a conversation with the orderly who said the police would want to stop by in the morning and question me about my attacker. I was having fitful dreams in my sleep though. I kept picturing all these muscular athletes, and then bodybuilders. I had to get to them. I had to touch them for some reason. I had be one with them. I had to... had to.... I awoke with a start. It was the middle of the night. The moon shone bright and full in my window. I was full of lust. I had to have a man. I had to have one now. I didn't care about a relationship. I didn't care about feelings, emotions, commitment. I had to have a man this instant!
The door to my room opened, and I lay my head back down on the pillow and closed my eyes and tried to breathe slowly and rhythmically. The doctor came over, standing by the side of my bed, looking at some of the instruments I was hooked up to.
"Hmmmmm. Odd. State of rest and his BP levels are elevated."
He walked down to the end of my bed and picked up the chart. I opened my eyes just a bit to try and get a good view of him. He was tall....about 6' 4"... he was broad...he was built. Moderately... about the size of a soccer player maybe up to a rugby player. I suddenly could hear his heart beat.... My breathing became one with its timing. I began to feel a heat coming off of the doctor. I had to have that heat. I had to have his power. I had to have his manliness!
Suddenly the doctor looked up from the chart at me. With a strength I've never had I leapt straight off the bed and at him. He managed to shove me away and try to make a break for the door. I pushed the bed right into it, blocking him in. The contraptions I was hooked into all began to roar and beep, every bell and whistle going off as their receptors had been pulled off or out of my body. The bed caught an part of the hanging curtain and pinned it against the door, blocking its window. The doctor and I began to pace round and round the room. He wasn't sure what to do. I was a patient that had just been traumatized: a concussion and possibly rape. I could have a head injury, this wasn't my doing, and yet... yet I just displayed some awesome strength not only for someone my size, but someone his size as well.
He made a lunge for me to pin me down. I jumped out of the way, turned and struck a blow to the back of his head, sending him sprawling onto the bed and putting him in a semi-unconscious daze. The doctor out... I ignore the sounds of orderly and nurses trying to call out to the doctor to see if he was alright. Their pounds on the door. Not only was the bed barricading the door, but it was butted right under the door handle, keeping it from being able to be turned and open the door. In one swift motion a yanked the doctors pants down, cupped his tight firm ass, and plunged my tiny throbbing cock in.
The doctor made some kind of whimpering sound. I gurgled and moaned as if I was having an orgasm. I felt strength coursing through me. I felt power. I felt myself reaching and stretching. I felt myself growing! And boy did I grow. The shadows from the moonlight showed my form going, growing, taller, broader, thicker, stronger. Up and Up I went. At the peak I could tell I had now stood as tall as the doctor had stood. My feet made good smacks upon the floor and were as long as a single 12" by 12" tile. I was tall. I was buff. I was strong. But I had to pull away. Something deep inside me knew this was wrong. I couldn't do this. I pulled out, trying to make sense of it all. Wishing to seek comfort, solace. I climbed back into the bed, pulling the covers over me. I saw the doctor or what was left of him fall to the floor. He looked so small. I passed out.
It was apparently a couple of hours before they could break into the room. They discovered me on the bed, a bit disheveled, but passed out. Slightly bleeding from the needs that had been ripped from my body due to the bed move. However, nothing really changed about me, other that after re-examination discovered my concussion was completely healed. They found a man, 5' 6", skinny lying on the floor, pants down. I woke up to security questioning him and ripping of stethoscope and badge off of him.
"Who are you? Where is Dr. Uphill?"
"What? I'm...I am Dr. Uphill."
"I don't think so, jack. He's four inches taller than me, and we train pretty heavily together at the gym. You don't even look like you could bench press a toothpick. Get this pervert outta here, Sam. I swear why is it the graveyard shift with a full moon brings out the nutters?"
The nurses and doctors didn't sense it. I didn't sense it either, until I got home a day or so later. I was now 5' 8.5" inches tall, and had filled out a little. Just enough to get some definition to see I had muscles instead of sticks, and my cock was now up to five inches. But I remember that dream with the doctor. Had I grown to 6' 4"? Was I really buff? Had I become hung? What had happened? What had I become?