Twelve Steps Back VI: New Beginning
"So, what do you think, man?" Ian's voice on the phone sounded agitated, anxious. "When are you gonna find out? I need to do some more, man. Even if it's just the same."
"Calm down, Ian," Troy answered in his most soothing doctor's tone, "that's your old addict talking. I'm going to the center today to meet with the supervisor. I should get an answer, but I won't be able to get back to you until tomorrow, anyway. I've got to go do some stuff at the campus today and it's going to tie me up all day and evening."
"But what about later tonight, then? Come on, man."
"Ian, you're going to have to get a grip. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Plan on coming over about ten."
"Ten? Jesus, dude. That's like fucking forever."
"Go to a meeting, man. Call someone. You'll survive."
Troy hung up the phone in his office and pushed back from his desk. His erection was so hard he was straining his tights and a spot was starting to show at the tip of his flaring cockhead. Hearing Ian wanting it so badly was turning Troy on so much. He wanted the directors to approve his request. He wanted to morph this guy as badly as he wanted it himself. He couldn't remember feeling such a strong attraction, and he knew it was based entirely on the guy's looks. Not that Ian wasn't charming, intelligent, and all those other good things that, at another time, would have drawn Troy in. But now, with his own libido in constant overdrive, like all the guys who had tasted the Littleman's transformational magic, he simply and purely lusted after the stunning beauty of the man, enhanced as it was, and the thought of actually morphing him, feeding his insatiable hunger, was driving Troy crazy. And, he had to admit, a little jealous. There were times, and this was one, when he thought, for all the benefits of his enviable job, that he'd made a fool's bargain, agreeing to stay at the level they determined for him, never to be able to taste the delicious erotic pleasure of feeling himself grow again. How he would love to be Ian, to be able to throw care out altogether and just go for it, muscle in the extreme, feeling so hot strutting it, the balls of a human bull, and a cock like, like, yeah, God would he love that, a cock like Jarrod's and all the other young guys he'd transformed into LGs. But, still, he reminded himself, he did hold the key that was drawing Ian to him like a junkie to his dealer.
At the center, he sat across from his supervisor, having a hard time believing either his eyes or his ears. This was the same senior administrator that had started him in the program, but now he looked five years younger and forty, maybe fifty pounds heavier. Instead of a lab coat, he wore Littleman's hot shorts and a short tee that fit like skin. He was handsomer, too, that was true, but the aura of masculinity that had been so strong and attractive when Troy had first met him was exponentially stronger. He took Troy's breath away. He almost couldn't focus on the words he was hearing, but he heard enough to make his heart race so fast he felt like he'd just done poppers.
" . . . so we've approved your request. In fact, we found the idea rather interesting, not just from the obvious standpoint, but from another, which we'll discuss another time. But we think this will be the thing to take the Littleman's thing much wider, penetrate much more thoroughly. But for now, the Larkin guy will be an excellent experiment, with some far-reaching ramifications there, as well. Think of it . . ." Troy stared, trying to stay clear, his mind already ahead of his advisor, " . . . executive in the Littleman's company, a testimony to a new protocol . . ." Troy saw Ian in the office, wearing something from the catalog--they hadn't even bothered to design business wear, thinking that the look as it was would make its way into the boardroom eventually, and business wear would become something as new and different as the whole Littleman's look was, anyway. " . . . so you'll know, from your own experience, what you'll be doing to him, and, soon, I'm sure, to others." Wait. He missed some words. "Just like the first time, when you started with us. That's why we told you we'd need you at the campus tonight. Now, if you'll just sit up on the table, there."
Holy shit, Troy thought, as he practically jumped up to the table, pulling off his shorts without being asked, this is a dream. But he knew it was no dream when the musclebound stud advisor, instead of pushing his balls aside to go for the tender spot, lifted them and held them in his hand with a syringe in the other.
"A few of us have tested this idea on ourselves, before you even came with your proposal. But you can probably see that." Without lifting it up, just standing there with the syringe in his hand, he flexed his right arm, and the muscle hardened and bulged to what must have been a twenty-three inch upper arm. Troy felt his cock stiffen.
"We found that the effectiveness and the speed of the changes are much more pronounced when injected, not near the gonads, but directly into them."
Troy's eyes widened. He watched from some distant place, it seemed, as the hunk forced one testicle tight against the skin of his scrotum and poised the needle. Then the prick, the sting, and a feeling like he'd been kicked in the balls, if getting kicked in the balls, that feeling that went right to your gut, could feel unthinkably erotic. He jumped, but not much, and half the syringe felt like a pound of fluid went into his ball. When the guy squeezed up the other one, he was more prepared, and barely jumped when the needle went in, but a deep moan escaped his throat as the erotic sensation in his groin and gut doubled.
"You see," the guy said to him, still holding his balls in his hand as he set down the syringe, "you really couldn't tell the guy what to expect, or even know how he might react, without knowing yourself, could you? Kind of extreme, but then, extreme is what it's all about, isn't it?"
Troy was suddenly so horny and felt so good, he was floating. If this guy, his advisor, had looked hot to him a few minutes ago, now he was a walking package of masculine power that Troy couldn't resist feeling, touching. He stared at his body, his muscle, his cock, straining the thin material of his shorts, showing that this guy was as turned on by what he'd just done, what he was doing to Troy as Troy had felt earlier when he thought about Ian. His hunger for the guy's maleness overcame him as his own maleness overtook him completely, and he leaned forward, as he let the cum begin to jet spontaneously from his throbbing, hot cock, put both his hands on the guy's incredible pecs, and kissed his full, stubble-surrounded mouth.
It was a smooth move, a lift and a slide, for the guy, Troy realized he didn't even know his name, to pop out his mammoth boner and then pull Troy to the edge of the table and right into position to receive his manhood with one insistent, slow push. Troy remembered the feelings he was getting now, suddenly, rushing stronger and stronger, from his first transformation. But this was so much more intense. He wanted this guy in him, on him, any way he could drink his masculine essence, and if his cock had been an arm, a leg, if the whole, massive muscular body of this hunk could be the missile, the delivery system of his maleness that was penetrating him right then, he would happily, hungrily have taken it.
They were whirling through space as Troy felt the guy empty himself inside him, and then, knowing he had to complete the circle, Troy pushed him down on the table, turned him around, grabbed onto the wings of muscle that flared up and out from his beautiful, hard, round ass, and shoved himself inside. Fuck. His cock was already bigger. He could swear it was. He knew it was. Already. As he began the rhythm of shoving himself deep and hard into the guy, making him moan, he felt the size and weight of his own body, and he knew the change had begun. He felt the power that was so strong it would have to change him. He loved this guy for doing this to him. He loved his body. He knew already he would be so hot, feel so hot, bigger, more handsome, all the things he'd wished so much he could experience.
They kept him at the center that night until they knew he was stabilized enough to leave. They told him that what they'd given him would work for a week, that it would be a week before he saw the full extent of the change they'd planned for him. Still not "all the way," but enough that he and everyone else would know the difference. About like his advisor's own change, they said.
As soon as he got home, he stripped to look at himself in the mirror. They'd given him the package of formula that would take Ian all the way in five more doses. They said what he'd already done would be about equal to the first dose, maybe not quite, but these five would do the trick. Troy knew Ian would be ecstatic, hearing that he would be "doing him" in even a week less than he'd asked for. But standing in front of the mirror, flexing his twenty-one inchers, feeling the mass of his pecs, the hard ridges of his abs, the spread under his guns that lifted them out, he also knew the drive that had turned Ian into the addict he was. He knew he had a week to go, to grow. He imagined how another fifty pounds of muscle would look on him, how it would feel. It made him cum again, spontaneously, all over the mirror, thinking about it. And he could take one of Ian's doses and make it better still. God, he would so love to do that.
But he had his responsibility, and through his own erotic frenzy, he could still hold on to what that would mean to him. Keeper of the keys. He would do it to Ian. And to Matthew, and Brett and all the others. He would bring in guys he hadn't even seen yet, and guy by guy, he would begin to change the world, to spread the new concept of ultimate masculinity. They would flock to him, he would take their balls in his hands, and he would change them, transform them. Grandmas and grandpas might faint, but soon the tide would turn forever. A new kind, a new race of men was being born, and he would be one of those to release the magnificent new creatures from the cocoons of their old, ordinary bodies and minds. He felt like a god.
"Yeah. Troy? What's up, man? I thought you were going to be busy tonight. What time is it?"
"It's almost two. They said yes, Ian. Do you want to come over?"
"Are you fucking kidding me, man?"
"Meet me in the office." He hung up.
When Ian opened the office door, Troy was sitting on the edge of his desk. He'd put on a pair of shorts, thinking he should wear something but wanting to show what he was feeling. His hard cock jutted out past his hip, stretching the fabric, pointing sideways, parallel to the floor. Already, more hair had begun to sprout on his pecs, legs, arms, down his belly, and his stubble was thick and rough.
"Holy shit, man. Look at you."
Ian stopped dead inside the door, and his own shorts showed his meaty dick swelling, stiffening fast, as he scanned the doctor leaning against his desk.
"Yeah," Troy said, "look at me. Already. They gave me a taste so I'd know. It's good, man. It's real good. But it's different, the delivery. You ready?"
"Dude, I am so ready."
Troy could hardly wait to do it to Ian. He looked at him standing there, boning up. He was so fucking gorgeous. His muscle was already thick, beautiful, carved, from the double-dosing he'd been doing, but he just had the body of a fitness god, not a bodybuilder, yet. He face was rugged and refined at the same time, but the wild look of his hunger glinted off his eyes. His dark-rooted, extremely blond hair was messed beyond spiky, probably just the way he got out of bed. He stood there as if in suspended animation, waiting for Troy to say something, and Troy let the moment sit, while he looked at Ian now, already a golden god, and imagined him in a few short weeks.
Troy walked over to him, all the way to him, until their bodies were touching, kissed him, and ran his hands down Ian's sides until he hooked into the waistband, if it could be called that, riding so low on his hips, and started to push them down.
"Mind if I take these off you?"
"Be my guest."
Troy stared into Ian's eyes, pausing again. Ian was so fucking sure of himself, of his male beauty. His complete self-assurance gave him a casual cockiness that just magnified his magnetism. But enough delay. He pulled the shorts down, all the way, until his face was in Ian's pubes, teasing with the brush of his stubble as he pulled them below his ankles so he could step out of them.
"Okay," Troy said, returning to his desk where the prepared syringe waited.
"Why don't you just go over and sit up on the table then?"
Ian sat, his legs spread as usual. Troy approached with the syringe.
"Whoa," Ian said. "That looks big. A lot more than before. Cool. Gonna fuckin' grow me, man. Do it."
He spread his legs and pushed aside his heavy balls to give access to that familiar sweet spot between the legs, but Troy just smiled as he took Ian's balls into his hand.
"No," Troy said, "This is a little different. They found a better way to deliver the effect." And he squeezed one testicle up tight against Ian's ballsack.
"Oh, whoa, man." Ian's eyes widened with the realization of what Troy was about to do. "You're not going to . . ."
Troy paused, the needle poised, and smiled at Ian.
"Yeah," he said, "I am. You ready, bro? Big breath."
Ian sucked in a gulp of air as Troy gently but firmly plunged the needle into his testicle. As Troy emptied half the contents of the syringe, Ian emptied his lungs in a long groan.
"One more time," Troy said, readying the other testicle.
"Fuck, man. Go for it, dude." And Ian sucked in another breath and exhaled another groan.
"There," Troy destroyed the syringe and threw it away, "that's all there is to it. Pretty intense, huh? But you wanted it intense."
"Fuck, dude. My whole fuckin' belly's on fire. Dude, my balls. Shit."
"Just sit there for a second. How do you feel?"
"I don't know, man. Hot. I feel hot. Jesus. I'm fuckin' rushing my head off."
"Yeah, I know. That's why I called you in the middle of the night. This was too good not to share. I know you're a sucker for a good rush, and they don't get any better than this. Still going up?"
"Fuck, man. I'm gonna explode. Aww, yeah. This is so good. Fuck, dude, I gotta cum. Here it comes. Aww, yeah, fuck. My whole body is alive, man. Oh, yeah, dude. You're the man. Come over here, doc. My body needs your body. Fuck, you're hot. Thanks, dude. What can I do for you man, to repay you? Fuck."
"Just grow for me, man. Get huge. Get totally fucking beautiful."
Troy fitted his mouth over Ian's, and he felt the muscle that would soon be more god than man, but all man, totally, completely man.