Muscleboy
by FanTCman
Russ was totally bummed on his 18th birthday, just moved to the coast to live with his uncle while he went to college, ready for the beach, parties, all that, when he got sick. It hit so fast and so hard he was in bed an hour after breakfast. He'd drunk a protein shake with his uncle, got into his swim trunks, and was ready for the beach when it hit like a truck, aching in every joint, bone and muscle in his body. It was like the worst flu he'd ever had, but he didn't really get a fever.
His uncle Jake was in his Speedo and ready to take him to the beach. Russ was a little embarrassed when Jake came out in the Speedo, one of those real brief bikini cut ones. No one wore that kind of stuff back home. But Russ already knew Jake was a bodybuilder, so he wasn't completely surprised. His dad, Jake's brother, talked about that a lot. Sometimes he even sounded a little jealous of Jake's free lifestyle, being only 30, so much younger, and making his money off his looks, modeling. Russ had come to the coast with a mixture of feeling nervous about living with Jake, and excited about it too, the freedom and all. He did think it was cool that Jake was this really good looking stud who modeled and all. And he had really been looking forward to the beach, for months. So despite Jake's bikini, he was bummed when he got so sick he couldn't go.
It hit so fast and so hard, he'd barely been able to get to bed. He stayed there for a week, drifting in and out of sleep, barely able to concentrate on watching TV. A doctor had come, a young doctor that was a buddy of Jake's, said he'd be fine, some kind of virus, just ride it out. Since he was Jake's buddy, he was there a lot, and gave Russ medicine. When he did fall asleep, it was such a sound sleep that nothing could wake him up. He'd be watching TV or whatever, and just go out, like blanking out completely for hours at a time. A few times Jake had shaken him to wake him and get him to sit up and drink a protein shake, just to get medicine and nourishment in him.
The whole time, the aches and pains were so severe he moaned and bitched like a little kid. Everything hurt, especially his hips and shoulders, arms and legs. The aches went all the way into his bones. Then, after a week, it finally eased up and went away. He woke up feeling almost human again. Except, when he got up to go to the bathroom, now that he could feel something other than how he hurt, he noticed he felt weird, as though the sickness had done something to him, deformed him or something. He felt awkward and gawky, like his arms hung like ape arms, all dangly or something, and his legs were like they'd been pushed together at the hips. He used to have space between them, now they rubbed when he walked. When he got to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror, other than looking messy and needing a shave, he did see a strange difference in how he looked. His shoulders looked really wide, so his arms did hang funny, and his hips looked really narrow. Really narrow. So narrow that his legs were closer together. He'd lost weight, so every bone showed, and he looked skinny as hell, but his shape was different. And what was even stranger was, he was taller. He was a five foot ten guy who suddenly looked about six foot one or so. He shook his head, as if he could shake off a delusion. He would ask Jake when he got back.
He felt so grungy after being sick for so long, he decided to take a shower while he was waiting. He felt so weird. Walking felt weird. His hips felt so tight or something. He let the water run and warm up while he studied himself in the mirror. He'd always been kind of a stud, and pretty cocky about his looks, so suddenly getting skinny wasn't so great, but there was something about his shape. How could getting sick have changed his shape? He had weird feelings, almost like memories he couldn't bring into focus, but something in the shadows of his mind made him wonder if he'd really been sick or if it was something else. But the shape he saw in the mirror had something pretty cool about it. It gave him an amazing V shape. That was something he'd worked on, thousands of pull-ups, and he had a decent build going, but now, suddenly, he had this natural, stretched out V, from the wide shoulders to the tight narrow hips that made his waist very tight and small and made his legs, skinny as they were now, flare. He wasn't really skinny, but he had lost weight, and compared to the jock build he was used to, he felt skinny. But whatever that sickness was, he realized, standing there, that he didn't mind what it appeared to have done to him at all.
At the same time, he realized, as his cock boned up for no particular reason, that he hadn't even jacked off for a whole week. What a load he must have stored up. He got into the shower and soaped himself up. The water felt so good. The soap felt good. When he got to his crotch and soaped himself up, a week's worth of horny hit him, and he jacked off. He stroked his dick slowly, and it felt incredible, it had been so long, he really needed this. He closed his eyes and concentrated on just feeling himself come, stage by stage, closer and closer, to the point of clenching, spasming, jerking orgasm and the release of the biggest load he'd ever shot in his life. He shivered with the final exquisite jet, and then finished shampooing and rinsing off.
He was standing in front of the mirror, a towel around his waist, shaving, and wondering if his whiskers had really got as much thicker as it seemed. He ran the razor over each stroke several times, and as close as he could get the shave, it was leaving behind a dark shadow of stubble he couldn't get rid of. He'd never so much trouble getting a clean-shaven look. He left the sideburns and was working, to no avail, on the rest, when Jake came in. Suddenly, there he was, behind Russ, wearing the same kind of Speedo in a different color, royal blue, grinning. Russ almost cut himself. He'd been concentrating so hard he hadn't even seen him come in.
"Feeling better, I see," he said.
"Yeah, pretty much." Russ finished shaving, rinsed his face, looking close one more time at how much more dense and dark the shadow left by his whiskers was. "Weird, though. Whatever that was, it did something really strange."
"You mean how your whole structure changed?" Jake said it like it was the most natural thing, or at least not unexpected.
Russ turned around. "Yeah," he said, as much questioning as answering.
"Looks good," Jake said. "You'll need that height and that natural V shape. God, he did give you some slim hips, there, dude."
"He? Who?"
"Brent. My buddy. The doctor that was tending you."
"What do you mean, he gave me some slim hips? How could he . . . what could . . .?"
"Doing some experimenting, bro. That's all. He's really more a genetic scientist, and his special interest is bio-engineering. That and hot guys."
"I don't understand. Experimenting? On me? With what?" Russ started to sound heated. "And what about hot guys? He's gay, too?"
"What else do you think I'd have in common with a research doctor?"
"You mean . . . you're . . . no way, man. You're too masculine."
"You think only swishy guys are hot for other guys?"
"But you don't seem like . . ."
"Well, I am, Russ. I'm as gay as it gets, and I like it that way. Your dad knows. I'm surprised he didn't say anything to you."
"Well, he didn't."
"That's so typical of David," Jake shook his head. "He told me he thought we'd have a lot in common. I just assumed . . ."
"What, that I was gay?" Maybe curious, he thought, but not gay.
Russ moved past Jake to the bedroom. Jake didn't step aside for him, so Russ had to step sideways to avoid brushing against Jake's body, and now he was more conscious of the skimpy bathing suit Jake was wearing.
Jake turned as Russ passed and followed him into the bedroom.
"It crossed my mind," he said. "Well, no matter. Once the programming really takes effect, you'll do just fine . . . muscleboy."
Something strange happened to Russ when he heard the word "muscleboy" come from Jake. He felt like something had suddenly taken control of him, that he was somehow instantly a different person, or, at least, a whole different set of feelings took him over.
"Yeah?" he said. He turned and looked at Jake straight in the eyes. "You think so?" For no reason, other than a sudden impulse, he flexed both his arms, in what he thought they called a double biceps pose.
"Oh, yeah," Jake said. "I definitely think so." He felt Russ' flexed biceps. These are gonna get so big," he said.
"Yeah? You think that's hot?" Russ wondered where these words that were popping out of his mouth were coming from, although he felt just like the words sounded. Hot. "You want to see your muscleboy get huge?"
Even as he stood there, letting Jake feel his arms, saying those words, he wondered where it was coming from. "Your muscleboy?" What the fuck was that? But coming out of his mouth, the feeling he had saying it, had a strange effect. It turned him on. He felt really hot. He could picture it, being a big, musclebound hunk, and it was a total turn on. He knew his cock was getting hard, and the towel around his waist lifted as it rose, and he had no choice but to let it happen and let Jake see it.
"Yeah, I want to see you get fucking huge, muscleboy. Turns you on, doesn't it? You want to get totally fucking massive for your Uncle Jake, don't ya?"
"Fuck yeah," Russ voice even sounded different to his own ear. "So fucking huge. You want my cock, don't ya, Uncle Jake?" He pulled the towel loose and let it drop. "Come on dude. Get your muscleboy."
What was happening? He felt completely, powerfully turned on, even though he knew this was so gay, and something he didn't understand was making him want it and want it badly. He looked at the boner that had grown in Jake's skimpy little trunks. God, they looked hot on Jake. And he realized, now, that Jake's body was stunning. No wonder he made a living showing it off. The perfectly carved, thick muscle. The veins. His handsome, masculine face.
Jake stepped up within inches of Russ' face and body, so close that Russ' boner brushed the stiff meat in Jake's trunks. Russ could feel Jake's breath on his face as he said, softly, his eyes locked on Russ', "Yeah, I want your cock, muscleboy. You like that, don't ya? You like when I call you muscleboy?"
Hearing that word was making him almost want to cum. He was no muscleboy. He had a decent jock bod, although the sudden stretch he'd just experienced made him look almost skinny. But something about hearing that word. It reached in and hit him deep somehow. It made him think of that guy, the doctor. He could almost hear him saying it, calling him that, over and over.
"Muscleboy, muscleboy, muscleboy." He could see himself like that, all muscled up, and it felt hot, big muscleboy in a skimpy suit like Jake's . . . wait a minute. Where was this coming from? But Jake's face so close to his, his warm breath so close . . .
"Muscleboy?" Jake said again.
God, that word. It made his cock twitch. Jake was so fucking handsome. He'd do fucking anything for him. It was like every time he said that, called him muscleboy, it made him more, well, he didn't even know what, but he parted his lips, maybe to answer, to say, "What?"
Jake put his mouth over Russ' parted lips, pressed just enough that Russ felt the scratch of Jake's stubble against his own. Then Jake pulled back and looked at him again. Russ felt the absence of Jake's mouth on his own, and it felt like some kind of deep yearning or hunger.
"You like the sound of that, don't ya?" Jake looked hard into Russ' eyes.
"Yes," he almost felt like he was watching himself respond to his uncle, not just what he was saying, but what he was feeling, standing this close, experiencing an arousal no girl had ever given him. "I do."
"Do you remember Brent talking to you about being a muscleboy? It's all right to remember. Do you remember him giving you the medicine, the shots, and talking to you about being a muscleboy?"
Suddenly Russ' head ran a movie of when he was sick, that guy, Brent, the doctor, talking him into deep, deep relaxation and telling him he was going to become a massive muscleboy, that every time he heard himself being called muscleboy, he would feel more and more strongly how much he wanted to grow massive muscles for Jake and him, how he would become more and more turned on by it, how he would be more and more unable to separate muscle from masculinity and masculinity from sex. He remembered Brent giving him shots and telling him that the shots would make him change, and how hard that made him, and how Brent sucked his dick, oh holy shit, and how he sucked Brent's dick, and how he sucked, holy god, how he sucked Jake's dick, and how he had been so turned on, and how turned on he was right now, remembering all that, just because Jake told him it was okay to remember it. He was so hard, now, he could feel the precum dripping off his cock.
"Yeah," Jake grinned, "I can see you do remember, muscleboy."
That word again. It made him feel so turned on. "Fuck yeah," he said.
"I remember. Gonna get massive for you guys." He reached for Jake's pecs, all hard and thick, the smooth, tan skin bulging with muscle. "So fucking hot," he said, going down on he knees, taking Jake's cock out of his trunks, sucking it into his mouth.
"Yeah. Fuckin' hot muscleboy, man. Awww, yeah, suck my cock, man. You love that, don't ya?"
"Mmmm." He answered, his mouth full of hot cock.
"You want me to fuck that tight ass, muscleboy? Stand up."
Russ stood up, as though, being told to, he had no other choice and no other desire but to do what Jake told him, and Jake turned him around, bent him over the bed where they could both see themselves in the mirror over the dresser, and pressed his cock into the tight, young ass.
"Yeah. So tight and hard. Got those hips so tights and narrow. Gonna look so hot when that muscle starts to flare out. Don't you think so, muscleboy?"
Russ watched in the mirror as his stud uncle rammed his ass over and over while he talked, and he loved the feeling of that man meat in him, working his ass, making him his fag muscleboy, so hot, so turned on.
"Yeah, Jake. Do me man. Make me huge. Get me fucking massive, man. I'm your muscleboy, you and Brent. Do me, man. Fuckin' do me."
"Aww, yeah, muscleboy. We'll do ya. I got a surprise. You want a surprise, muscleboy?"
"Fuck yeah, man, anything you want."
"It's what you want, muscleboy. You want more medicine?"
"Yeah."
"Good," Jake said, still riding Russ' ass, pumping like a machine, holding onto those slim hips, never losing his hard, driving rhythm, "Aww, yeah. So fuckin' hot, muscleboy. Look who's here."
Just then, Brent walked into the bedroom. Russ saw how handsome and really built he was, really for the first time, now. Brent was naked, a five foot ten inch bodybuilder with a near perfect body, the symmetry of a god, the cock and balls of a prototypical stud man. His cock was rock hard, pointing toward the ceiling as he sauntered in brandishing a large, full syringe.
"Ready to grow for us, muscleboy?"
"Fuck yeah, man."
It briefly flitted through his head that he didn't even care that he was being fucked by one man while another one saw it happening. In fact, he realized, he would take them both. And anyone else even close to that hot and masculine. God, the masculinity of these guys turned him on so much, that and the fact that they wanted to make him a huge, massive muscleboy.
Brent came over, with Jake smiling and continuing to fuck, the two obviously enjoying their pre-planned conspiracy, and held the needle just above Russ' glute on the mirror side of Jake, so they could all see it.
"You want your medicine, muscleboy?"
"Yeah."
Russ could feel himself dripping precum onto the bed.
"Yeah?" Brent asked. "You don't sound very enthusiastic. You gotta ask for it, muscleboy."
"Okay, man. Fuck. Please give me my medicine."
"That's better. Why, muscleboy? What's it gonna do for you?"
"Aww, fuck, man. It's gonna turn me into your muscleboy, make me grow huge."
"Yeah. It is, isn't it? You want that bad, don't ya, muscleboy?"
"Yeah."
"Tell me how bad, muscleboy. Beg for it."
"Aww, come on, man. Please. I want it so fuckin' bad. Please."
"Aww, Jake," Brent said with mock sympathy, "I don't think it would be right to deny the muscleboy what he wants so bad, do you?"
And with that, he jabbed the needle into Russ' ass, while Jake kept right on fucking him, and emptied the syringe.
"There, now. That should start to take effect fairly soon now. We'll all go down to the beach. But we can't go like this, can we?" Bent said, holding his hard cock. "Come on, Jakey, let's show the boy what he can do."
Jake pulled out, now, and they both pulled Russ to the floor where they sat, face to face one leg under and one over the other guy's, their crotches pushed so close together that their cocks were side by side, and then they guided Russ to straddle them and lowered him onto their two cocks together.
When Russ felt the penetration, he couldn't hold back the cry, so much man meat going into him at once, stretching his hole, and filling a need he hadn't even known he had. Now it was his turn to ride them. They both encouraged him, their hands alternately caressing and smacking his hard tight body, flicking and stroking his cock, massaging his balls. He rode them hard, taking them as deep as he could, pushing down with all his strength, his head full of himself as their muscleboy, imagining himself doing this but huge with muscle, flexing while they felt him, felt his massive muscles.
"Fuck yeah, muscleboy. Fuckin' cowboy, man, knows how to ride. Didn't know you were a big muscle fag, did ya, muscleboy. Aww, yeah. Aww, fuck yeah."
They talked him and themselves to an explosion of cum that took them all on a ride beyond their expectations. They shot thick cream until they and the rug they were on was wet with it, and they collapsed in a heap of sighs and laughter.
"Whew," Jake said. "That was hot. Let's get this cleaned up and go to the beach. I could use a swim and a rest."
He got another pair of trunks, just like the skimpy ones he'd had on before, without the cum stains. Brent pulled on a pair just like Jake's, or maybe even more brief cut. And Jake handed a pair like theirs to Russ.
Russ took them. He'd never worn anything but big, loose, surfer board trunks, even though he was used to letting them hang low enough to show some pubes, like the Abercrombie models. But what the fuck, man, what the fuckin' fuck. He was a muscleboy, or would be. If they could, he sure could. He wanted to see what it felt like. Already, he could feel something, he wasn't sure what, but something good all through his body from that medicine. He pulled on the trunks and adjusted his cock and balls. It felt kind of hot, no, very hot, wearing something like this that showed all his masculinity. He looked at himself in the mirror. He liked the tall look, the broad shoulders, and the way these trunks fit on his slim, narrow hips really looked good. It made his stuff up front look more pronounced. Yeah. He was going to like this, he thought.
"Russell!" Jake said, as Russ looked at himself in the mirror.
Suddenly, Russ felt like he was just waking up from a dream, slapped awake when he heard Jake say "Russell." What was going on? He sort of remembered waking up before, in bed, feeling better, but strange, going to the bathroom and looking at himself. Yeah, he was taller, and that was no dream about the way his shoulders were broader, and his hips all pushed together tight and narrow. But what the fuck was he doing in this little, skimpy bikini thing? That doctor guy was familiar, but why was he here now? What was going on? Why did he feel so strange?
"Come on, guys," Jake said.
Russ felt like he'd walked into a movie in the middle.
"Let's get to the beach."
Russ thought, no way was he going to the beach in these trunks. But he sort of remembered putting them on. He kind of remembered feeling, what? Something told him these two guys were gay, and maybe he would just see how it felt, hanging with them, even being like them. They were pretty hot, for gay bodybuilders. What was that? Hot for gay bodybuilders? Well, anyway . . . There was something cool and masculine about how he looked in these trunks. He kind of liked showing his stuff. That old Abercrombie thing of letting things hang low enough to show some pubes was cool enough, but showing the whole package, yeah, he surprised himself by how hot he felt, and how he didn't have any shy feelings holding him back. He looked at his tall, lanky V-shape in this tiny posing suit, and he liked it. Posing suit. Yeah. That's what he was wearing. He sort of remembered now Jake giving it to him to wear. He could almost imagine actually posing in it, having the kind of muscular body for doing that. He looked at Jake again, waiting, and the doctor guy, Brent, both so muscular. Yeah, he could get into that.
The three of them left to walk down to the beach. As he walked, Russ could feel the new shape they'd given him move, the broad shoulders, the slim, narrow hips, the kind that always made guys look so good. It felt strange, how the narrowing of his hipbones made his legs closer together, so they rubbed a little when he walked, but it felt good, in a weird way. He could feel his butt muscles, tighter and narrower and somehow sitting higher up. He'd noticed that when he looked at how these posers fit, because they really showed off how high his butt muscle sat, and how much the suit had to dip in front to hold his package. Some pubes were showing, now that he was out walking, but that wasn't new to him. Showing his body like this, seeing people turn and check him out, look down at his crotch, it was hot. The sun felt good. He felt great.