A Hot July 8: Oh, Boy
Kyle woke up suddenly, jolted by the sensation that infiltrated his sleep and drew him out with the sudden need to ejaculate. A hand was wrapped around his cock, bringing him fully to the awareness that he'd spent the night at the mansion and had gone to sleep, finally, with full knowledge that, from that time forward, he was his body, his muscles, his large and growing balls, and his big, thick, hot, soon-to-be-monstrous cock. In the second that passed between sleep and waking, a swirl of intermixed visions brought him to consciousness, memories of feeling himself lost in his body, growing, muscle thickening, feeling heavier, hair sprouting thicker on him, so blond, like straw, dancing, stroking his dick and it got bigger while guys watched him, flexing for them, getting sucked off, having dick after dick in his mouth, shoved down his throat, the feeling of wanting to devour cock, having it deep in his throat, swallowing so much cum, while his ass was reamed countless times by huge cocks and huge dildos, sometimes both at once, and the drive that had grown stronger and stronger to satisfy them all, to get off by getting them all off. They had saturated him with their formula and were turning him into a pleasure boy, an animal, they kept saying, a muscle pig, he could hear them cheering him on, big fuckin' muscle toy, boy, total toy.
All that flashed in his head like a strobe as his eyes flew open to see Chad standing over the bed, naked, twenty inches of rock hard cock jutting from his slabs of hairy groin and stomach muscle. He was so unbelievably handsome that, in the second of waking, Kyle was again overwhelmed by lust, desire, love for the muscle and man that was turning him into a creation of erotic fantasy unbound, without limit, or of limits not yet discovered. But it wasn't Chad that was holding his cock. Without looking down, just from feeling the weight of his meat, he knew he'd grown more while he slept, and, lifting his head, he confirmed that to be true, seeing his cock almost as large as Chad's in the hands of a guy that had to be John. John had been otherwise occupied the night before, but they had kept telling him that he would meet him soon, the other toy, the other experimental guinea pig, a true phenomenon. And that is what he saw sitting on the edge of the bed, holding onto his cock. The man was stunning, breathtaking, about twenty-two in appearance, although Kyle knew from conversation that John was older that that, the most perfect face, heavy dark shadow of stubble on a carved and dimpled jaw, eyes that shone with a surreal brightness that was pure sex, pure lust, pure unfettered self-love and joy. The body was a fantasy of muscle, grown thick and hard beyond the most extreme of juiceheads, far beyond, and yet worn upon the body with the natural ease of a male animal born to display such plumage. He grinned when he caught Kyle's eyes grasping the scope of what they were seeing, and what it would mean for him, his own future. And with the grin, which radiated pure sexuality, Kyle came so hard it made him convulse.
"Mornin', boy." Chad's voice was deep and silky with sex.
Kyle dropped his head back, his eyes rolled, and he gave himself to his orgasm. It was stronger than even he remembered from last night, and it was so intensely good, felt so amazing to just let it flow for these guys, let up shoot, spurt after spurt hitting his chest and stomach, warm, hot, so hot.
"Wanted you to meet John first thing," Chad said. "You two should become great buddies. After breakfast, you and he are gonna do the shopping, but first we gotta get you goin' for the day."
Chad held up a vial, from which he loosened the stopper top. Kyle opened his mouth to take the dose, but instead of giving it to him, Chad dropped several droppers full into John's open mouth. John swirled and swished the solution for a few seconds like it was mouthwash, and then he slid his hands slowly across the slippery surfaces of Kyle's muscular abs, rubbing the cum into the hair, smoothing it up over the thick curves of his pectoral mounds, massaging the thick blond hair that covered them now, sliding over their surface with the lubrication of Kyle's cum, leaning closer as he did, until he was on top of Kyle, his mouth over Kyle's mouth, thrusting in his tongue and emptying the contents of his mouth into Kyle's mouth. It was warm and sharp and filled his mouth, and he held it, let it fill his mouth with John's tongue, penetrate the membranes of them both, and slowly, without swallowing, trickle down his throat. John kept his mouth clamped over Kyle's until Kyle felt the warmth spreading through him and felt his brain begin to fly on the jet stream of erotic urgency. Oh yeah, he remembered this now, too. He wanted it, wanted it so much, the muscle, the sex, the men, growing bigger for them, oh god, he needed it so much.
He felt himself being turned around on his bed. John was up now, and he saw both John and Chad, and, oh fuck, Hal had come in, so much male muscularity at one time, and he was all for them, his body was all theirs, whatever they wanted him to do. John was lifting his legs, and Kyle looked down. John was magnificent, and the sight of his cock gave Kyle a hunger he could barely contain. It had to be nearly a yard long and as thick as a muscular arm, its head a helmet, the veins the texture of pleasure. He sucked in his breath as John pushed it against his muscle hole, pushed it into him with burning fire, and as he took the breath, Chad's cock was suddenly in his mouth, and he felt the warmth of Hal's ass sliding down onto his own cock, Hal facing John, Hal and John kissing now, while Hal milked Kyle with his ass, John pummeled him like a jackhammer, and Chad held him by his hair and face fucked him so deep that when he came, when they all came, he felt Chad's cum bypass his mouth and shoot deep down his throat, his throat filled past gagging, open to take anything, and John emptying himself into his ass until he felt his stomach swell as he pitched his own sweet juice deep into Hal until it flowed back out and down into his own forest of pubes.
"Oh, God," he heard himself sputter when they all stepped back, admiring him lying across the bed, wet with cum. His voice was deeper, a little raspy, even to him, hearing it as though it was someone else's voice, incredibly sexy. "Oh, fuck, man. Oh, God." His hands reflexively reached up to feel the body he still had not yet seen in the mirror. He had not even stood up yet. He was beginning to realize what they meant by being their toy, their boy. Last night he'd already grown muscular enough that he had felt like a total muscle stud, but now, now he was bigger, and even as he felt the mass of his lats under his arms and the mass of his arms against his lats, muscle on muscle as he reached for his huge pecs, he felt the fire inside him, the lust he had for his own body, his own muscle, his own fucking huge cock. Oh, God. Oh fuck.
"Get up, boy," Chad said. "Take a shower. You've got stuff to do. Be downstairs as soon as you're cleaned up for your breakfast. And don't bother to dress." And he was alone with the slam of the door.
He steadied himself on the edge of the bed, sitting up and getting his bearings. His head was both clear and foggy, and he sat for a moment. Even with his legs splayed akimbo, his thighs were so thick now they touched most of the way up from his knees and his balls were caught between them. He lifted one leg to free his balls, pulling them up to lie atop his thighs. His cock was going soft, and it lowered itself to rest on them, two huge eggs in a sack with a big sausage lying across them. It reached almost halfway to his knees. He thought of all the kids he knew, if they could see him now. He thought of how so many people seemed to think this whole thing that was going on was weird or disgusting or even scary, and he remembered seeing some of the guys, Matt at the grocery store, that guy Russell, seeing them around with their big packages just showing and so muscular and like they didn't care, and now he completely understood. No one as young as he was had done this yet, and being the first young guy was so hot he could hardly stand it.
He got up to look at himself, finally. What he saw in the bathroom mirror was a fucking god looking back at him. His face was so much more grown up and handsome. He'd hardly had a few stray downy hairs making the beginning of a moustache and a few on his chin, and now he had the full outline of a man's beard and stubble filled it in with soft pale gold hairs glinting on his jaw and neck. His neck was almost as thick as his head, and his traps flared from it into his shoulders, so wide, with thick rounded, striated delts capping his arms. His arms hung at an angle, away from his sides, propped out by the lats that flared under them, so thick and hard that they would not allow his arms to fall straight down anymore. Just looking at that made his breath come faster and harder as his cock began to stiffen again. His whole body shape had changed and was still changing more, even now, as he watched, the formula working on him and in him. He was a goddamn fourteen year old muscle man, incredibly handsome, so sexy, and still changing and growing.
He stared, transfixed, at the image in the mirror. He tried squeezing his arms down so they would hang straight at his sides like they always had, but he couldn't do it. The muscle under them was too thick and hard and his arms were too thick. As he squeezed, his pecs tightened, striations radiating across their surfaces, veins and muscle fibers so distinct under his skin that they showed clearly defined even with the flat pale blond hair covering them now with its silky sheen like white gold against tan skin. While he'd slept, that hair had spread to cover his pecs from under the deep creases that cut up under the heavy folds that had formed under them where the heavy muscle hung over his rib cage, out and around the wide sides that bulged out to meet his arms and pits, swirling in to the crevice up the center, and fanning up above his collar bones, right up to his delts and throat, stopping just where his pecs and delts met, emphasizing that line of rolling, rounded contour.
He could hardly believe this, but it was so real. The hair plunged down the center of his abs, and his stomach was a stack of bricks. Below his belly button, on the flat hard surface of his belly, the hair spread out again into a thick bush of golden pubes that surrounded the heavy meat that hung there. His cock was steel hard now, and it stood straight out with a slight upward curve, even as its weight pulled heavily on his abdomen. If it had been smaller, less heavy, it would be standing up against his belly, but as it was, the extreme hardness of it held it out so that the sack with the nearly tennis ball sized nuts hung clearly visible beneath, blond hairs decorating it, surrounding it on his groin, thighs, diving between his legs into his ass crack. His hips had stayed narrow and tight, making his meat seem more huge in proportion, and from them his legs flared in long, veined, deeply cuts muscles.
He knew he was already too big to get those legs into regular pants or jeans now. What would he wear? He didn't even care. He just stared at the incredible image, intensely, lustfully in love with what he saw. It was so strange. He felt the formula in him, so strong he felt stoned, but clear, and it was warm, almost hot in him. He felt alive, aware of his body in a way he'd never even thought about, every muscle, hair, his cock, balls, asshole. And he could feel himself changing even as he stood there. There was no cramping, no pain, nothing like his muscles flexing. He could just feel that they were thickening, adding fiber, growing bigger and more dense and hard. He closed his eyes to experience just the feeling. He could feel the muscle that his arms lay against pushing them out, so slowly, but so definitely, and when he pushed back against them with his arms, he could feel their thickness swelling, and the thickness of his arms and his pecs where they all collided and pushed together. He could feel, as he stood absolutely still, the weight of his cock pulling a little more and a little more on his groin. He had to look. He opened his eyes and stared at his cock. There was no question that it was getting bigger, both longer and thicker. He felt waves of increasing feelings of his masculinity crashing over him, sweeping him in a riptide of lusting awareness. It was his masculinity he was in love with, and all this, the muscle, the size of his cock and balls, the hair, all of it was just outward signs of the immensity of the maleness that was taking him, rushing him to a place that he was only to anxious to get to, no matter how extreme the end. Pure masculinity made manifest. Pure sexuality. They were the same, inseparable, and the more he grew the more sexual he would become. His muscles were sex. He was sex. Pure male sex. He had to cum again.
He showered, soaping up his massive muscles, feeling the luxuriance of the soap in his body hair, stroking the amazing cock. God, he loved his cock. It had to be over a foot long now, and he thought of Chad's and John's cocks. Twenty inches on Chad, the master stud, and a yard of thick heavy man meat on John, the first guy they made into their muscle toy, just like they were doing to him now. He couldn't wait to get one like that. The thought of having a cock like that with the massive muscles they were going to make him grow brought him to orgasm, and he caught as much of his cum as he could in his hands and greedily licked it up and swallowed it, knowing that in it was more of the transforming power of the formula.
He toweled off after the shower. Even toweling his muscle made him feel so hot, and the hair on his body, drying it, seeing it all over him in such masculine patterns decorating his muscle. God, he felt so hot, so totally, completely sexual. He looked at himself again, amazed that the feeling of his own sexuality was so strong and kept growing stronger. He knew they were making his muscles and cock and balls grow huge for the pure sexual thrill of it, and it thrilled him deep in his gut. It was odd that this stuff could change him like this, and that it didn't make him go into shock, or writhe in pain, or anything like that. It just felt warm and alive in the extreme, so alive in every part of his body that he had a super-consciousness of himself, of each muscle, the hair, and his meat. He was intensely aware of his body, and so of its thickness being a little thicker all the time, and the thicker he felt himself, the more he turned himself on. He wished he could see what he looked like with his cock soft. It had to be incredible, now, and he wanted to see what he would look like if, say, he was just standing with the guys in the locker room. The thought turned him on more, and he was so hard, he felt like he could come again already, and he knew he could, but he willed it to stop, and it did. Wow. For the first time he realized the power of his will. So he tried willing his cock to go soft. Now he discovered one of the most intense sensations yet, because as he willed it soft, it did grow softer, by degrees, little by little, descending, hanging down, going limp, and finally pulling up into its thin skin, wrinkling. The weirdest part of the sensation was that the event of going soft turned him on even more, made him feel even more hot and sexual, seeing himself with a soft cock that hung so thick and fat and heavy, twice the size of his former boner, probably nine amazing inches.
Now he was ready to go down to breakfast. No need for clothes, he remembered. He walked down the stairs, feeling the girth of his thighs rolling around each other as he walked, his soft, huge dick swinging with each step. But as long as he willed it so, it stayed soft. And the very act of keeping it soft forced his attention on it and increased his arousal. In fact, as he walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, his whole body, every cell, everything, his muscle, his hair, his cock, his balls, his face, his whiskers, his total look, his masculinity, the way he felt, his attitude, his total awareness, every thought, every corner and hidden crevice of his brain and mind, was in a state of complete sexual arousal. Everything the formula was doing to him was stronger and growing still stronger with what he had taken in this morning, and he had no choice, no will, no ability to react in any way but total surrender and desire. He was no longer the old Kyle, the cute kid. Nothing remained but the features of his boyish face, made sharper, more mature and handsome. He was a fourteen year old muscle stud growing into a huge muscle monster whose whole purpose was to give his body for whatever they wanted to do to it, for sex, for growth, for lust, for any kind of pleasure. He could and would take anything they could give and give anything they wanted. When he walked in, Chad and Hal were watching John, in his own state of ecstatic arousal, feeling his huge muscles while he stroked and sucked his own gigantic cock. It was so long now that he had to reach up with his head just to lick it around the base of its head. He couldn't even get it in his mouth. It was too long. But he could lick it and wet his hands and use them both to massage the head, then stroke the length with one hand, supporting its weight from the underside, where it was intensely sensitive, while he felt the mass of his pecs that protruded from his collar bones and hung, massive, against his ribs.
When Kyle walked in, the two men applauded him, while John grinned at him but kept up his own masturbation.
"Amazing, boy," they said, "beautiful. Unfuckingbelievably beautiful. They were right about catching a guy when his hormones are just kicking into full throttle. John, give the kid another good hit to grow on before you take him out to do the shopping."
Kyle looked at the outrageous magnificence of their other live-in housetoy. Fuck, he could almost cum thinking that they were going to make him look like that. When John headed toward him, he was ready to take his cum any way he wanted to give it to him. He reached for John's cock, pulled it so that he could get its head up to his mouth. He found his jaw could open wide enough to get it in, like a snake's mouth, the hinges coming loose, his throat opening. Holy shit. There was more to this change than muscle. John let him take a few thrusts down his throat before he grabbed him by the hair, pulled his head off his cock, and kissed him hard and deep. Kyle lost the thought of holding his own cock soft, and it sprang hard, reaching more length and thickness than before, but Kyle didn't have time to think about that as John turned him around and positioned his cock at Kyle's manhole, held his hips, and shoved until the huge flaring head popped in past the muscle and the massive, heavy rod penetrated deep, deep inside until Kyle could feel it pushing up to his chest cavity inside, but he could feel himself accommodate it, and his arousal shot up another hundred degrees.
"Aww, fuck, man," he heard his newly deep voice saying. God, he sounded so hot, even to himself, so totally sexual, completely erotic.
"Awww, God, aww fuck, man. Ream me, dude. Oh yeah, go deep, man. Feels so fuckin' hot. Oh, God, man, I want it all. I want it so bad. Shoot in me, man, give me more. Oh, fuck. Awww, yeah."
He felt the contractions as John let go and he felt himself filling with John's cum, thick, hot, so hot he could feel the warmth in his abdomen, more and more, getting so full, and more full, holy fucking shit, the guy just kept cumming in him until he felt like he would explode. When John finally stopped cumming, he stood Kyle up straight but kept his cock inside him. While they fed him a protein shake and pills and told him what a blond god he was becoming, while Chad and Hal took turns sucking his hard cock until he came twice, once for each of them, all that time, John stood behind him, keeping him impaled on his huge hard cock, holding him from behind, biting and licking and kissing his neck and jaw and shoulder, feeling his huge pecs, and keeping him plugged with his cock until all his cum had absorbed and Kyle felt the formula increasing in him.
"Okay, he's ready," Hal said. "John, show him what to dress in. Here's the list of stuff we need. Get out there, now, and show those people what kind of new breed is taking over."
John took Kyle down to the workout room, where the posers and such were kept for when guys came over. There was also a closet with the clothes that John wore, when he wore anything. His size, and soon Kyle's, made impossible wearing any regular clothes, and baggy stuff, elastic waisted "clown pants," as Chad called them, were forbidden. The credo was to show what you've got. So John gave Kyle a pair of soft Lycra shorts and a small looking tank top. Kyle watched John put on the same thing, pulling his meat up front and letting it create a pouch in the stretchy material.
"You know how to stay soft, I guess. I saw that, when you came in just now." He laughed. "Could stay hard all the time if you didn't have the ability to will it soft. Got to, to go out. Takes concentration, sometimes, though."
Kyle laughed, too, at that. "Yeah, I figured that one out." He made himself go soft. Now his cock was more like ten inches, maybe close to a foot, and fatter than before, and making it soft, and putting it into those shorts, feeling how it lay in there, coiled and scrunched, pushing the material, stretching it, showing the veins and the rim of his cockhead, well, his arousal was intense now beyond belief. Like he could go out and think about anything else. John saw him checking himself out.
"Yeah, I know. Now let's go show this shit, boy. Let's let 'em see."
They were walking through the parking lot at the store when they got the first vocal reaction.
"Hey, muscle fags."
A couple of college jocks were driving by in a convertible. They slowed next to John and Kyle. Kyle was suddenly twice as aware of how he looked, out here in front of the world. He looked over at John, so impossibly huge, his cock like a boa constrictor in his shorts, his balls like two softballs, and he watched John turn and face the jocks, giving them full view of what he had.
"Hey pussy fuckin' jocks," he said back. The driver hit his brake.
"Dude, the muscle fag can talk. I thought you lost your brains when they made your meat so huge." Kyle felt a power in him that was pure masculine magnetism. He knew he could seduce and have these assholes, that they would be easy. He saw it in John, and he felt it in himself. He turned so they could see all of him, and he flexed one arm and rubbed his cock with the other hand. He didn't give a fuck who saw. He knew how hot he was. He knew he was pure sex.
"Can do a lot more than talk," he said. God, he loved his voice. "How 'bout you? Dumb fuckin' jocks. You want to see this meat, don't ya?" He could tell by their stare, caught and pinned, that they had them. They were theirs. He nodded to John, and they opened the doors of the car and got into the back seat.
"What the fuck . . ."
"Shut up," John said. "I'll tell you what. What you want, fuckers. Drive. And don't waste our time. We've got shopping to do."
"Where we goin'?" the driver asked. Now he was compliant, and a little nervous, like someone about to eat the forbidden fruit.
"Just a quick drive a few blocks from here. We've got a nice private place," John said. Kyle reached over the seat and put his hand on the shoulder of the passenger jock. "You'd like that, wouldn't ya?" he said.
"Whatever," the jock answered.
"Yeah, see what a guy can be, right, dude?" he slid his hand down onto the jock's pec. The guy tightened up a bit, but he didn't move or say anything. "Maybe you even think it'd be hot to put some real muscle on, huh, bro? Maybe feel some real meat down there. You like that, huh, dude?" He didn't have to answer. As Kyle breathed the words into the guy's ear, his hand cupping his pec, he saw the rise in his shorts grow.