Gene awoke slowly, fog in his brain and a thunderous headache. He opened his eyes to look around because he had the strange sensation of not knowing where he was. Vacation. The Caribbean. His hotel room? No. He was having a hard time focusing. But the light was streaming in broken lines through bamboo slat shades. His hotel room had shutters. Through the mosquito netting he saw the room, small, neat, white, and definitely not his hotel room. But what? Where?
He tried to sit up, but only got as far as propping himself up on one elbow. He couldn't remember ever having such a fierce hangover. What had he done last night? How did he get here, wherever this was? It was a small room with only a table large enough for a bowl of fruit and a lamp, one wooden chair with a woven cane seat, and the single cot he lay upon. He was naked.
Leaning on his elbow caused searing pain in all the muscles it took to prop himself up. As he let himself fall back onto the cot, he realized it wasn't just his head that ached. His whole body felt like he had some extreme flu or rare tropical disease. He ached from head to toe. Even his skin hurt.
Then he began to remember. He had been having a sunset cocktail in his room, looking out at the beach fronting the small harbor and the boats at anchor. He remembered starting to dress for dinner and then seeing that great looking guy dive off his boat and swim to the beach. He had been standing on his terrace, wearing his bikini, and he wondered if the guy had seen him. When the guy walked out of the water looking in the direction of his terrace, he figured it was a good bet he had. So instead of dressing, since it was still a balmy evening, he had gone back out to his terrace with his pina colada.
The guy shook the water out of his hair and looked directly up at Gene on his terrace, smiling at him. He was stunning. He looked Italian or Greek, with shaggy black hair and a beautiful face. Just the kind of guy Gene had come to the island to run into. And his body was more than Gene had hoped for. He wasn't huge, but he had perfectly shaped muscles that had been obviously, carefully developed. And, in the brief string bikini he wore, it appeared he was handsomely endowed as well. Gene smiled back.
The guy had walked over to the terrace. "Nice night," he said. "I was just getting ready to have a drink myself. But I hate to drink alone, and I saw you standing here alone with yours. You are alone?"
"Yeah, I'm alone."
"You feel like swimming out to my boat to join me for some drinks?"
"Sounds great. Just let me lock up." He checked himself in the mirror as he left the room. Could be better. He had gained a few pounds with all his business lunches, even though he was religious about working out. His six-pack wasn't as sharply defined as he would like, as it used to be, but he looked pretty good. He was starting to look muscular, and he knew that most men would gladly strangle him if they knew he thought he had gained too much weight. He still looked great in a bikini. Good enough for this guy to swim over to ask him to his boat. Looked like a nice boat, too.
He remembered the guy introducing himself as Paulo. He remembered swimming to the boat. He remembered how Paulo had not pulled up his suit when he climbed out of the water, how he left it riding low, just at the base of his cock, most of his pubic hair exposed, as he mixed them a couple of coladas and leaned back against the railing after handing Gene his drink, acting so casually and so blatantly seductive. But he couldn't remember having sex with him.
Gene tried harder to focus, to remember. They had laughed, talked. About what? Something about their Caribbean island fantasies. An island with only men on it, magnificent men, all nude, whose only desires were to please their masters and to have constant, nonstop sex. He remembered Paulo saying his men had to be so massively muscular that they couldn't fit into any kind of clothes, with horse dicks and balls to match. They laughed at that.
Gene remembered feeling really stoned at that point. He accused Paulo of trying to get him drunk, laughing and teasing, and he remembered Paulo asking him if that was bad. Gene remembered saying he guessed not, and laughing about being dangerous when he was drunk. He remembered Paulo telling him to get naked, pulling down the front of his bikini, saying he could also be dangerous. Very dangerous. He remembered getting naked. But he couldn't remember anything else.
The effort of trying to piece things together grew too exhausting, and he ached so much that he had to let his eyes close. He felt his focus diffuse, felt himself sinking, drifting. Then he was floating in a thick, heavy haze, a jelly-like fog. He heard voices that seemed to come from a vast distance. He could hear Paulo and another voice, but only Paulo's voice said words.
"He'll start to come around soon. I gave him a very large dose. What do you think? Do you think he'll make a good playmate?"
The other voice laughed and made some unintelligible noises that sounded like a happy, if rather stupid child.
"You watch him and let me know when he comes around again."
"Unh. Uh huh."
He was sure the voices were real, but he could not pull himself out of the drifting, suffocating fog. He still felt the pain in his head, the aching in his body. He could remember Paulo standing on the deck of his boat, telling him to take off his trunks, laughing. He could feel himself off balance as he took them off and then stood there, leaning against the railing. When he had begun to get a hard-on, Paulo had said that they'd better go below before everyone saw them. He remembered Paulo letting him pull his trunks off, too, and then standing there with his big, thick dick hanging from his dark pubic bush, grinning, asking him if he liked it. Then the dizziness, the fog took over.
Now, again, from what felt like far away, Gene heard the voice that had been with Paulo's voice. It wasn't saying any words, but he heard it more and more clearly, as though he were floating up from the bottom of a murky pond, nearing the light surface and the sounds beyond. The voice was making heavy breathing, moaning sounds. The closer he drifted towards it, towards consciousness, the more recognizable it became. This was the sound of someone in the throes of sexual pleasure.
Then Gene was back in the room again. The same ceiling was above him as he forced open his heavy eyelids. The voice was in the room with him. He slowly moved his eyes in its direction. Sitting in the wooden chair by the table sat a man, and Gene felt sure he was still dreaming, or hallucinating.
The figure Gene saw on the chair was so large that it didn't look entirely human. The sound of the voice was the same, and he had been right about the nature of its noises. The enormous man was sitting there, oblivious to him, totally focused on an act of solo sex. Bulging under his thin skin were the most massive muscles Gene could have ever imagined, flexing and rippling with his every move. Gene had always had fantasies about bodybuilders, and studied the bodybuilding magazines for the latest, biggest, hottest stars to feed his secret lust. What he saw now dwarfed anything he had seen before.
Between thighs unimaginably thick and vascular hung balls that appeared the size of large oranges in a sac that hung down from the guy's groin at least eight inches, suspended from the edge of the chair. This guy was holding in his right hand a cock that looked almost as thick as his huge forearm, and which projected up from the dark tangle of pubes to the middle of the guy's chest. He was moaning as he bent his back and thrust his hips, flexing his enormous glutes, to thrust the fist-sized head of his cock between his staggering, mammoth pecs, deep in the crease of cleavage between them, his left hand clutching his left pectoral and squeezing it, enjoying its mass, pushing it to increase the friction on his cockhead.
Gene didn't believe what he thought he was seeing. The size of this guy's arms was as thick as his own thighs. And he had good legs. Even relaxed and sitting, the width and thickness of his back was beyond human. The mountains of his shoulders nearly engulfed his neck and head, which appeared anchored to the dense pyramid of his traps. Gene noticed he had an extremely handsome face, his hair cut very short, as he bent his head toward his cock and began to suck on the head as he stroked its length with both hand. Gene couldn't believe this. The apparition could easily reach the head of his gigantic cock to suck himself off, and it took both hands to surround the shaft.
Gene watched without moving. He couldn't move yet; the pain was still too extreme. His mind raced back to the talk last night with Paulo about their island fantasies and what Paulo had said. This was just the kind of guy he described. Gene felt his own cock begin to get hard as he watched. He was unable to do anything about it, but as the mountain of muscle in the chair neared orgasm, his moans growing louder with no attempt at even the slightest inhibition, Gene felt his own cock, now completely hard, jerking with his excitement, bouncing on his belly.
Soon this giant's moans became near screams of pleasure and he reached climax, spurting thick, hot cream high in the air, across the floor. It seemed to come and come. Gene could hear it hitting the floor, and then he heard it hitting the side of his cot, and then he felt its warm wetness splashing down on his chest and his abs. He realized the mosquito netting had been pulled back. This guy had shot clear across the room.
That was when the guy looked at him, saw his eyes open, saw his erect dick. Gene heard the voice change to excitement, rise in pitch as though to call someone. It was all non-verbal, just grunts and howls. He was standing over
Gene, looking down at him, jabbing at his arm, then he was gone.
Gene could hear him moving away, banging another door, then he heard Paulo's voice again.
"Good. Okay, let's go see. Good boy. Here, take this and wipe yourself off. You've cum all over yourself again."
Then they were both in his room. Gene had pulled himself up onto his elbow again. He felt like he could throw up from the pain and the effort, and his erection had half deflated. The huge one came in first. It had not been his imagination. Standing, he was astounding, his muscles so insanely blown up and exaggerated, so huge, so thick, covered with veins like ropes, his cock like a horse's dick, just like Paulo had said, hanging, soft, all the way to his knees. Then Paulo was in the room, the stunning Italian, naked like he was when Gene had passed out. He grinned at Gene, and Gene saw in the grin the danger Paulo had mentioned.
"Gene, welcome back, and welcome to my island. You see? Sometimes fantasies can become reality. You met my friend Val, here." Val grinned. "I'm sorry.
I know you can't be feeling very well right now."
Gene could not shake off the hazy feeling in his head. Every inch of him still felt like the throbbing of the world's worst hangover. He struggled to speak. "I . . . feel . . . like shit. What . . . did you . . . give . . . me . . . to drink?" His words came out thickly.
"Oh, it was something very special. You're only the second person I've chosen to experience it. I've looked a long time for a guy as handsome as you. I'm very particular. Only the most beautiful men will do. I knew you were for me when I saw you alone on your terrace last night."
Paulo stepped toward Gene and stood next to the cot, his wicked smile still curling his full lips. His cock had grown heavy with a rush of blood and started to rise from his dark spread of pubic hair, thickening, lengthening. He reached down and lightly rubbed the back of his right hand across Gene's raised shoulder and down his arm.
"Even in the light of day, it looks like my choice was a good one. What do you think, Val? You think he'll do?"
"Unh huh," the muscle monster grinned and shook his head in a vigorous affirmative. "Mmm."
Gene tried to raise himself up, to sit. The pain throughout his body was excruciating. No flu had ever made him ache like this. Never had he felt such a headache. It seemed to make the thoughts and questions that were trying to form come slowly, crawling through the fog and the pounding. He pushed himself up to his other elbow.
"Do?" he managed to say. He wanted to ask what was going on, what would he do for, but he could only get out, "What?" He pushed himself up farther until he was sitting. Every muscle he used burned with searing intensity. "Oowww," he groaned.
"I know. Poor baby," Paulo said with mock sympathy. "It hurts all over. But don't worry, it won't last too long. And it won't affect your ability at all, as you can see." Paulo reached out and took hold of Gene's cock, which had grown hard as soon as Paulo had touched him. "In fact, it will greatly enhance it."
Gene hadn't even noticed that he had a hard-on, with all the pain he was feeling. Now he realized, as Paulo held his rigid cock, gently squeezing it, that he was very turned on. His balls ached, along with everything else, as though he had been having foreplay all night without release. He was horny. Extremely horny. He swung his legs off the side of the cot, to sit facing
Paulo. He felt heavy and slow when he moved.
"Feeling horny, aren't you, my friend?" Paulo squeezed Gene's cock again and pulled on it as though to pull his hips off the cot. "Why don't you stand up here? You can do it." He helped him up with his other hand on Gene's shoulder.
Gene felt so thick and heavy standing. He shook his head to try to clear it, but it still felt full of cotton. As he balanced himself on his feet, he felt his thighs touching, rubbing against each other. Never in his life had his thighs touched unless he crossed his legs. It was strange, but his focus was on his cock and his extreme horniness.
"What do you think, Val? Is he pretty?"
Gene looked at Val, who answered with vigorous nodding of his head and a sound indicating approval. The creature was standing just behind Paulo to his right. His massive muscles made him stand like some gargantuan man-animal, his arms resting on the spread of his lats almost straight out and level with his shoulders, his stance spread so wide that his knees were forced to a bent position, as though he were in constant readiness to pounce. Though his bent knees were probably a yard apart, the mass of his thighs was so great that they were firmly pressed together most of the way to his knees. Resting between and against them was the pendulous sac containing his his gigantic balls, and hanging in front of that, the horse dick that had reached to his knees was growing engorged with blood, thickening, extending now below his knees and lifting out in the incredible erection Gene had seen earlier. It hadn't been a dream, but it certainly was a fantasy.
"Val, why don't you come over here and show our new friend your appreciation for his joining us?"
Before he clearly realized what was happening, Paulo had moved around behind him and Val had stepped up in front of him. As Paulo rubbed down Gene's back and started working his buns, Val had a hold on his cock, rubbing his chest, down his abs, dropping thunderously to his knees and taking his throbbing cock into his mouth. Paulo penetrated his asshole at the same time, first with his fingers and then with his cock. Gene looked down at the mountainous man sucking on his dick, clutched the stack of his traps, the hard mounds of his bowling ball delts, so wide, so huge, as the gorgeous face ravenously consumed his throbbing organ and the other man, behind him, thrust deep and hard into him, pushing his hips into the incredible muscle freak's face. He could think of nothing else. His mind was completely filled with only the sexual experience of the moment. He couldn't force any other thought to come into focus, so intense was the sexuality of what was happening.
Even after he exploded in orgasm, after Paulo had exploded within him, he found himself still as horny as he had been. Possibly more. Val stood up in front of him, and his erect cock stood out a full twenty or twenty-one thick inches. Val held it with one hand and with the other, he took Gene's hand and put it on the fist sized head. Gene couldn't believe it, touching it, feeling that it was real.
"Well, Gene. The least you can do is return the compliment," Paulo said.
Gene sank to his knees, totally dominated by his desire for this unreal organ attached to this immense, beautiful man-creature. Nothing existed for him but the cock. He worked it passionately with his mouth and both hands until it throbbed with its climax, spurting volleys of hot semen onto him, onto his face, down his torso. Val groaned and moaned with pleasure.
When Gene stood again, slowly regaining his feet, the pain surging back upon him, Paulo said, "He's pretty exciting, my fantasy creature here, don't you think?" He patted Val on the massively protruding shelf of his pectoral muscle.
Gene nodded. "Yes, . . ." it was so hard to talk through the cotton in his head, "he . . .is." He realized just how exciting, because he realized his dick was still hard. He felt so strange. So heavy. His legs felt thicker than when he had stood up before. His arms felt heavy. Even his hard cock felt heavy, pulling on his groin.
Paulo clapped Gene on the shoulder. "I know you feel very strange, now, but soon it will be over. Think how exciting it will be when there are two of you."
The words penetrated slowly into Gene's brain, through the heaviness, the thickness he felt. He looked down at himself for the first time. His legs were thicker. The muscles of his thighs appeared swollen, big and hard. His focus came with difficulty. He felt the thick muscles of his arms, he realized his chest had become broad and the muscles were much bigger and denser, sticking out. It sank in that his cock felt heavy because it, too, was bigger, thicker. He looked at Paulo, who was grinning at him, at his slow realization of what was happening. A feeling of panic slowly began to overwhelm him.
"Did . . .you . . .? Are . . . you . . .? You . . ."
"Yes, my friend. Before long you will be a permanent part of my island fantasy, just like we talked about last night. Just like Val, here. Don't you think it's exciting? Val, show your new friend your muscles. Show him what he has to look forward to, what kind of a playmate he'll become."
Val obeyed, blindly complying, striking several poses, flexing his unbelievably massive muscles, obviously completely engrossed in himself, his muscularity. His pecs massed up like boulders on his chest, his biceps like mountains on top of hams.
Gene watched, and the fate he saw in front of him scared the shit out of him. His brain worked in slow motion, turning over in conflicting emotions. He wanted to be back in his hotel, or back home. He wanted to go back to his office, to his normal life. But waves of sexual excitement swept over him as he watched the display of muscle. He did want to know what that would feel like. He did not want to be a captive toy, but he saw the enormous cock in front of him and wanted to feel that for himself. He wanted it. But he wanted to break free of it.
"No . . . !" Suddenly he realized, also, that this Val did not seem to be able to make any kind of intelligible speech, and his own had been so hard to form. This wasn't a hangover. "I . . . hard . . . to . . .talk," he looked pleading at Paulo.
"I know. I can't have you wanting to get away, to carry any stories, now can
I? But don't worry. It won't really matter to you soon."
Gene pushed past Paulo toward the door of the room. He needed to escape this nightmare. But Val grabbed him as he tried to get past and held him tightly. Gene struggled with the behemoth, but he had no power against the super human strength that held him.
"No, Val. Let him go. There's nowhere he can escape to, anyway, and he'll come around soon enough."
Val released him, and Gene pushed through the doorway. He looked around and saw that he was in a small compound of several thatched huts in a small clearing in a tropical forest of palms and brush. The beach was close by, and he saw a dinghy with an inboard motor pulled up onto the sand and, out in the bay on the turquoise water, Paulo's boat. He ran toward the launch, began to push it to the water, but heard Paulo laughing and calling to him.
"I'm afraid you would need this to get anywhere," he held up a key.
Gene saw the key, realized he was trapped, and ran down the beach away from
Paulo and the compound. He ran and ran, ignoring the pain that still seared in his muscles. As he ran, he could feel how his size had changed, how thickly muscular he had already become. He wanted to escape, but as he ran, he felt the power of his bigger, harder muscles, the strength of his thick, heavy legs, the mass of his arms brushing the wide thickness of his lats, the weight and density of his chest, his pectorals feeling so full and wide, so heavy as they bounced with each stride. He felt his nakedness, his stiff cock bouncing heavily as he ran, his balls slapping against his legs, and he felt strangely free. The act of running took on its own life, and he was no longer thinking of escape as much as he was feeling his body as he powered it down the beach. He felt wild, savage.
Soon he reached the narrow end of the island. Rocks jutted into the water, and he had to wade into the water to get around them. The water felt good on him, and he dived under and swam. He felt again how muscular he was becoming as he used his muscles to swim, and he marveled at how his cock felt like a rudder in the water. He did like the feeling of his cock growing large and thick and heavy.
He emerged from the water, walking now down the beach, consciously aware of himself as he walked. He looked down at himself, at his cock sticking straight out from his groin. It was as thick as his wrist, now, and he lifted it up against his belly to see how long it was. He remembered Val rubbing the head of his between his pecs, sucking himself off. His own cockhead now reached several inches above his navel. His balls hung heavy, big, their sac grown longer to hold their size.
Had he been trying to run away from this? His hands reached to feel the mass of his pecs. He felt how thick and full, how wide they had grown, how deep the cuts under them were, and the crease between them. They must be as big as any bodybuilder he had seen in the magazines. They felt like pure sex to him, pure masculinity. He felt his arms, flexed his biceps and felt them bulge insanely. Pure masculine sexuality. He was getting bigger by the minute, and it felt so good to him, despite the pain, that he began to find it hard to think about anything else.
He couldn't stop feeling his growing muscles. He realized as he walked that his legs had become so thick that he had to walk with his feet spread far apart, his knees bent. He felt so intensely erotic as he walked farther down the beach. He paused for a few minutes, several times, to feel the growing size of his dick. His wonderful cock. Each time he jacked himself off, and each time it felt more erotically satisfying. And yet he found that, rather than relieving his sexual drive, his horniness just continually increased.
He kept walking. He couldn't think about escape any more. He was completely focused on his body. He had grown bigger than a competitive bodybuilder, and it felt fantastic and completely erotic to him. He began to realize he would soon be as big as Val. He could finally place the head of his cock between his huge, huge pecs. He stopped and leaned against a rock. His ass against the rock felt like an enormous cushion of hard muscle. He squeezed his cock between his pecs and began thrusting his hips as though he were fucking himself. It felt incredible. He fucked his own tits for a while, and he discovered the thrill of sucking his own cock by just bending his head to it. He could tell his muscles were still growing, filling up with a final jolt of erotic mass. His body had lost any trace of fat it held under his skin, and everywhere he looked, thick veins snaked over the surfaces of his huge muscles. Nothing existed for him except the erotic sensation of his own body, the unbearably sexual masculinity of his sheer mass and power. He was more turned on by the size and feeling of his muscles and his cock that he had ever been by anything in his life. No fantasy had ever consumed him with the intensity of the sexual feelings he had now. He couldn't stop jacking off, cumming quarts each time. The only thoughts that existed in his mind now were muscle, cock, sex.
He didn't even hear Paulo and Val approach the rock where he was leaning, jacking off again. He didn't realize he had come nearly full circle around the island and had almost reached the compound again.
"You see, Val. I told you he'd come around soon."
Val grunted an affirmative answer. He stared at the magnificent creature in front of him, a specimen equally as massive, as inhuman, and as sublimely gorgeous as he was. His firehose of a cock began to swell and rise.
Gene looked up and saw the two. Paulo looked thin and small to him now, but beautiful, and he felt a powerful surge of attraction. He saw Val standing there in his magnificence, the horse-dick growing at the sight of him, and his only thought was how much he wanted to feel his body, his muscle. He wanted to fuck him, to feel his enormous cock penetrate the stud animal's huge, hard ass. He wanted to feel Val's gigantic dick fill him, plunge deep into him, thrust hard.
"So, Gene, my friend," Paulo put his hand on Gene's huge pecs, "I told you your feelings would change. Along with everything else. You look magnificent. Flex for me. Show off your body for me. Turn me on."
Gene heard the words and looked at little Paulo. He wanted to turn him on, just like Paulo asked. He knew his body, his muscles were pure sexual excitement, that nothing was more erotic. He wanted to see Paulo get hard watching him pose, flex. He stood up, his cock still hard and standing stiffly out nearly two feet from his groin. He felt his magnificence as he struck a double biceps, his unbelievable thickness as he hit a most muscular. He spread his lats and he knew he was a creature, like Val, of total, completely erotic masculinity. But he wasn't thinking of any of that. He was only feeling it. His entire consciousness was in his body and his sexuality.
Paulo watched him and immediately grew hard. His creature was magnificent. Now he had two. He would watch them play together and enjoy the sexual pleasure of both of their bodies. Soon he would find another, and another, until his island was an orgy of his fantasy creations.
"You see, Gene, my fantasy is a very exciting one, don't you think. Don't you love being part of it? Can you think of anything you'd rather do?" Paulo's voice had a teasing tone.
Gene could only think of how amazing he felt. It was all he cared about. He could only agree with Paulo now. He smiled. He nodded vigorously. There were no words in his head to express how he felt. There were no words at all, but he didn't care. He didn't need them. The simple sound of agreement came out as a grunt, and it expressed everything he could think of to say.