The Gifted Child 3 (musc)
by Jaypat
Despite Evan’s intentions we did not leave for Mexico within the hour. I was ready to go in the time allotted, even if I was dreading it. I’d been to Mexico once before, a trip to Cancun during spring break. I’d had a glass of tequila with some bad ice in it and spent the rest of the trip emptying my insides—from one end or the other—into a toilet bowl. Needless to say I didn’t rate Mexico very highly.But my misgivings were not the reason for the delay. It was Evan, himself that caused that. He suddenly discovered that he was hungry. No, not just hungry, ravenous. I really couldn’t be too surprised. He’d hardy eaten anything while he’d been sick. And he dove into the lunch he ordered like a one man eating army. And I will say this for him: the food he ordered was very healthy, lots of lean meats, green vegetables and whole grains. I wondered if he ate like this all the time, and if he did, why was he so thin and sickly?
He finished his meal quickly and surprised everyone by ordering a second, even larger one.
“Hold on,” I said to Evan. “You don’t want to overdo it. You’ll just wind up throwing it all back up again.”
He looked up at me and smiled condescendingly. “Those rules don’t apply to me anymore. I’ve been through the fire and come out alive,” he said. “I’ve changed. I feel completely different. My body is better and stronger than it’s ever been before… but not nearly as strong as it’s going to be. But you’ll see that for yourself, very soon.”
And the rules didn’t seem to apply to him. Evan just kept packing the food away and it didn’t bother him at all. I was really starting to wonder about the process he’d undergone. What exactly had it done to him? Would he really get larger? There could be no doubt he was taller. In fact he had been forced to wear shorts because none of his long pants fit him anymore. But since we were going to sunny Mexico, shorts were all he really needed. And the clothes he was wearing were the only clothes he took.
“It shouldn’t be long before none of my clothes fit me at all,” he said. “I’ll just have to pick up new ones up as I grow.”
Evan really seemed convinced he was going to get bigger. He was treating it like a fact of life. If I hadn’t seen that video at the lab, I would have thought he was delusional. But at this point I didn’t know what to think or expect.
Evan split his time on the plane ride to Mexico between taking on the phone, and eating. I’m pretty sure that by the time we landed he had emptied the galley. And believe it or not, the first thing we did upon arriving was to stop and get some dinner. Evan was in a very good mood and we chatted amiably about the Broadway production of Billy Eliot which we had both recently seen while he gobbled down a huge dinner. He ordered some more food to go and then we boarded our limousine for the last leg of our trip.
At this point I have to confess I had no idea where we were. We flew in on the Phips private jet, and I really couldn’t speak or read Spanish so the local signs weren’t of much help to me. The scenery didn’t help either. It was night and I couldn’t see much of anything, but the bumpy dirt road and the complete lack of electric lights told me we must be somewhere far out in the country. Being a city boy, I found that somewhat disconcerting.
An hour or so later, we finally arrived at a high wall and a locked gate. The chauffeur honked his horn a couple of times and an armed security guard appeared to open the gate for us.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Oh,” said Evan waving his hand dismissively, “apparently some of the local farmers are under the impression that this is still their land—as if it ever was. And sometimes they get a little… rowdy about it. Someone ought to educate them on the realities of modern commerce. I’d attempt it myself, but I seriously doubt they have the capacity to understand it.”
I couldn’t believe Evan’s callousness. “What happened to the farmers who used to live here?” I asked.
“Squatters shacks I believe,” said Evan, “but none are on my land I can promise you that.”
“You put whole families off their land for this?” I asked shocked.
“You’re not going to be dreary are you?” sighed Evan. “I bought this land and now its mine to do with as I please.”
“And the farmers? What happens to them?”
Evan exhaled explosively. “Look, I’ll make you a promise. At the end of the year if everything goes as planned, I’ll give this plot of dirt back to those who like to wallow in it. Will that make you happy?”
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t get over the casual way in which Evan liked to play with people’s lives. I didn’t know if I could actually trust him to keep his word, but considering my position I was unlikely to get a better deal. “Fine, yes,” I said. “It would make me feel better.”
“Then it’s done,” said Evan, “and we don’t have to talk about it anymore.”
It was hard for me to take in. He was making life and death decisions for these people on a whim. Other people didn’t mean anything to him.
From the gate it was a short drive up to a large house. The entire area was flood lit and there was new construction going on all over the place. Crews of tired, haggard looking men were busy landscaping and putting up small buildings all over the place. It had to be nine or ten o’clock at night and the workers were still going all out and showing no signs of knocking off for the evening.
“Forgive the mess,” said Evan. “I tried to have it all done before we got here, but the Mexican work ethic leaves much to be desired.”
The car pulled up in front of a large plantation house and we got out. Evan walked up the steps as casually as if he were born there.
“I had to have the whole house redone,” said Evan, waving his arms around him. “The previous owners had appalling taste and I’m told whole house had an unpleasant odor all the way through. But at least that much is finished.”
That was certainly true. When we walked in the only smell was fresh paint and the house seemed very tastefully decorated in old southwest wood and stucco. And the entry hall was not empty. There were people waiting for us.
“Armond,” said Evan walking up to the dark giant, “how are the security arrangements?”
“Everything is in place,” said Armond in a deep rumbling voice.
“Good,” said Evan. “If the farmers give us any more trouble, you can give me a demonstration.”
Then Evan dismissed him with a wave of his hand while he turned his attention to the other people waiting for us, Doctor Kramer and a small, scraggly Mexican boy, who couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old.
“Doctor Kramer, how are things progressing?” asked Evan.
“On schedule,” said the older man. “Manuel here is the first to come through the transition—besides you, of course.”
“Is the tank ready?”
“Just this evening.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get him inside.”
“Tonight?” asked Doctor Kramer. “It’s too soon. Be patient. The boy’s fever broke only this afternoon.”
“Nonsense, Doctor, I’ve read your notes. Once the fever breaks the transition is complete. He can take it.”
“Well, theoretically yes, but be patient. Prudence—”
“I have no time for patience or for prudence, Doctor. Put him in the tank tonight.”
“Of course, Master Phips,” said the doctor, looking defeated. Then he turned to Manuel and said, “Vamanos.” And the two of them left.
“I can’t believe you’re going to experiment on that kid,” I said.
“I believe the term is “human trials”. And I’m not asking him to do anything I’m not about to do myself.”
“It’s just he’s going first.”
“Believe it or not, that wasn’t my idea. I wanted to go first. But Doctor Kramer convinced me otherwise.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better about it.”
“Then we should count ourselves lucky that our goal is not to make you feel better.” Evan turned to go but then paused. “Don’t be such a pessimist,” he said. “All the data says this should be a spectacular success. That boy will soon be a young giant, strong and beautiful beyond measure, practically a living god. You should be happy for him.”
Is that what Evan wanted for himself, to be a living god? I had little doubt. It seemed to be the attitude he had already adopted toward most people. When I didn’t answer him, Evan just shook his head and yawned. “I find myself quite fatigued,” he said. “I’m going to retire. When you’re ready I’m sure that obsequious little man over there would be happy to show you to your room.” Evan pointed at a small Mexican man who was bowing repeatedly and then headed up the stairs.
I was not ready for sleep yet, far from it. I had a few questions I wanted to put to Doctor Kramer. But first I had to find him and that proved to be quite a challenge. Most of the staff did not speak English, but fortunately they did seem to understand the name, Dr. Kramer. After a ridiculous amount of hand gestures and pointing, I found myself out in back of the house looking at what seemed to be a mud brick warehouse of some kind. It seemed kind of old so I doubt Evan had it built. I wondered if I was in the right place.
I pushed open the door and went inside. The place was one large open space, about 40 feet wide and sixty feet long. It was dimly lit except for an area near the middle where a large glass tank had been placed. It was filled with a light green glowing, bubbling liquid. Poor little Manuel was there, sitting and shaking on the edge of a platform next to the tank. He looked miserable. He was naked except for a kind of diaper and he was hooked up to wires and electrodes stuck to his bare skin. If Evan was looking for a Mexican body double, he couldn’t have done much better. I could see every one of this kid’s ribs and his arms and legs were bone thin, no doubt due to malnutrition and poor living conditions, which were probably also partially responsible for his stunted height. I felt bad for this kid. His whole life had been a raw deal and now he winds up as a human experiment. I wondered where his parents were and if they knew what was being done to their son. There was a rough looking security guard standing over him. Every once in a while Manuel would steel a pleading glance up at him, but the guard just scowled back.
Dr. Kramer was there along with a couple of other men who could only be technicians. They were running back and forth, checking and rechecking computer screens. I walked over to them but they took no notice of me until I spoke.
“Doctor Kramer, what exactly are you going to do to this boy?”
Doctor Kramer slid his glasses down his nose and peered at me over them. “Didn’t Master Phips tell you? Where is he? I thought he’d want to see this.”
“Young Master Phips has retired for the evening,” I said. “I’m hardly surprised since his fever broke only last night.”
Doctor Kramer waved his hand submissively. “His recovery will be swift and complete. By tomorrow there’ll be no evidence he was sick at all.”
“What did you do to him?”
Doctor Kramer sighed. “In essence, I used a genetically engineered virus to go in and reprogram Master Phips’ cells. The high fever was merely the immune system reacting as it would towards any virus.”
“So his cells have been reprogrammed? To what purpose?”
“So he can grow, of course,” said Doctor Kramer. “But that’s not the problem we face here tonight.”
“It’s not?”
“No, Master Phips’ genetic restructuring is complete. He will continue to grow at a steady pace without any further treatments. In three to five years’ time he would have gained more than a foot in height and an abnormally high amount of lean muscle mass.”
Man, a huge Evan, it could really happen. That was a little hard to take in. In fact, it was a little frightening. “You said would have been?”
“Master Phips is very impatient. He does not want to wait three to five years.”
“And this tank speeds things along? How?”
“Manuel’s and Master Phips’ cells have also been altered to absorb energy directly. It’s an offshoot of some research I was doing to alleviate world hunger. But unlike our lab accident, we’re using a chemical bath as a catalyst. This gives us more control over the rate and quality of absorption. The energy is released into the tank. The liquid acts as a conductor of sorts, simultaneously saturating the entire body, allowing the cells to take in huge quantities at once. This should trigger a metabolic reaction and we should see some rapid growth. But this is its first real test. I’m not really sure it will work, or what effect it will have.”
“And you’re putting a human being in there?”
“As I said, Mr. Phips is extremely impatient.”
“Then maybe Mr. Phips should hop into that tank.”
“No!” said Doctor Kramer. “Don’t you see? This process of directly absorbing energy, when refined, could end world hunger. Eventually, people could gain nourishment directly from sunlight using a method very similar to the one plants use. Master Phips has promised me complete funding to develop the technology… if he survives that is. There’s so much at stake here; I can’t take the risk.”
“No, you’ll leave that to Manuel.”
Dr. Kramer shot me a dark look. “Manuel will be fine. All the preliminary tests were very… encouraging.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means its time to put Manuel into the tank.” Doctor Kramer nodded at the guard who barked something to Manuel in rapid Spanish. Manuel looked up at him wide eyed and quickly shook his head. The guard repeated his instruction and pointed forcefully at the tank. Manuel cringed back and whimpered. Then the guard just lifted his foot, placed the sole of his army boot on the small of Manuel’s back and slowly began pushing him toward the tank’s edge. At first Manuel tried to resist. But his scrawny body had no chance against the burly guard. So he scrambled for this oxygen mask-thing he had hanging on his neck and managed to pull it over his face the second before the guard tipped him into the vat with a splash.
It was at this moment Evan appeared. I hadn’t seen or heard him coming. Suddenly he was just there.
“Good,” said Evan, “You’ve got him in the tank.”
“I thought you were going to get some sleep,” I said.
“I tried,” he said, “but I couldn’t stop thinking about the tank. How is it going, Dr. Kramer?”
“Very well, Master Phips,” said Doctor Kramer, waving at the monitors. “As you can see Manuel is responding exactly as predicted.”
Even went over to look at the readouts, but the monitors meant nothing to me. I just couldn’t take my eyes off of Manuel bobbing up and down completely immersed in the middle of this tank. He was still and his eyes were closed and I wondered if he was conscious or not.
“You’re using an infinitesimally low amount of the energy,” said Evan. “I don’t know how you expect to see any results.”
“It’s our first trial, sir,” said Doctor Kramer. “We’ll mostly be measuring Manuel’s response to the energy, how his body reacts to it. It’s far too soon to expect any growth. After this session is finished we’ll take some blood and tissue samples and run tests on them. If the results are favorable we can go ahead with a slightly larger dose and see how he does with that.”
“It sounds as if you’re talking in weeks, Doctor,” said Evan impatiently.
“Oh yes, sir. It will be several months at least before we’re ready to--
“I don’t have several months,” snapped Evan interrupting the Doctor. Then he strode over to the computer and started typing commands out on the keyboard.
“What are you doing?” cried the Doctor. “Stop!”
“You should have more faith in your calculations, Doctor,” said Evan not even pausing. “I’ve looked them over and I tell you they’re brilliant. Manuel can take a much higher level than this, much higher.”
“You don’t know that,” pleaded the Doctor. “Living beings are infinitely complicated. It simply isn’t possible to anticipate all contingencies.” The Doctor looked over at the Monitor. “Are you insane?” he cried. “That much will kill him!”
“No, Doctor,” said Evan, his eyes shining with a fanatical light. “It will remake him.” And then the tank started bubbling rapidly. Manuel’s eyes shot open, his back arched and he began to twist and writhe within the tank.
“Grow now, Manuel,” said Evan. “Show the god doctor what we’re capable of. You can do it.”
And almost as if he were responding to Evan’s voice, Manuel’s body began to change. It was subtle at first, hard to see. It appeared as if his thread-like muscles and tendons were contracting spasmodically, responding to some stimulus like electric shock. But then as you looked closer you could see that each time they twitched, those thin lines of sinew grew a little thicker.
Evan’s eyes were darting from the computer monitor to the tank. The fevered look in his eyes was almost hungry. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, it’s working.” He looked around frantically until his eyes found Doctor Kramer. The poor man was just standing there with his shoulders drooped and his head hanging, staring at the ground. “Doctor,” he said, “is the mask wired for sound. Can he hear us? Can he talk to us?”
The Doctor just slowly shook his head and whispered, “No.”
“Pity,” said Evan. “I wonder what he’s feeling right now, what he’s thinking as he senses his body growing larger and stronger by the second. It must be exhilarating.”
“I’m sure,” whispered the Doctor, but Evan had already forgotten him and turned his attention back to the tank. Manuel’s body had changed. His arms were no longer merely bones with skin. There was a definite swelling both above the elbows and below them, denoting the beginnings of biceps, triceps and forearms. His thigh muscles were starting to show on his legs along with the seeds of calves. His slight chest had formed into twin bumps and little nubs of muscle had congealed around his bony shoulders.
“Could you please stop now?” asked Doctor Kramer. “You have your growth. Please stop before something happens.”
“Stop?” balked Evan. “We’ve barely gotten started.” And he continued to watch Manuel thrash around in the tank as his body continued to grow. He no longer looked malnourished. His body had the shape of a normal athletic looking teenage boy now. He was still a little thin, but he had six pack abs, visible shoulder muscles, biceps somewhere between a golf ball and a tennis ball. His pecs were like half softballs; his legs were lithe and muscular. It was a little hard to tell with him tossing about in the tank, but I think he might have been taller, too.
“Please, I’m begging you,” said Doctor Kramer. “Stop now. Just let us run a few tests, make sure he’s alright. I promise we’ll be quick.”
Evan appeared to consider it. “Will he go back in the tank tonight?” he asked.
The Doctor hesitated and it looked like Evan was about to dismiss him until the Doctor blurted out, “Tomorrow night. We can put him back in tomorrow night.”
Evan appeared to think about it for a second, then he said, “Very well.” Evan hit a couple of buttons on the computer and the tank ceased it’s bubbling. The guard reached down to pull Manuel out of the tank, but there was no need. The boy was already climbing out of the tank all on his own. He easily pulled himself up the side and jumped up onto the platform with the grace of an Olympic swimmer hopping out of a pool. It was amazing to see the change in him. Even the guard stepped back, a little startled. No longer slumped and cringing, he was standing straight and tall and now that I could see him clearly, it was plain he had grown about four inches taller. But that’s not all. His last few moments in the tank had seen even more growth. He no longer looked simply athletic. He appeared quite muscular, and he stood there dripping and staring in awe at his new strapping body.
At first he tentatively reached up and touched his substantial pecs which stretched out in front of him about as far as his chin. He touched them lightly as though he were afraid they might pop or deflate. But when they didn’t he began feeling them, flexing them and making them jump. I could tell he was sensing the hardness of them as they moved and was enjoying it. Then his hands traveled down to his abs which were now a collection of six solid muscle bricks pushing their way out of his stomach. He ran his fingers over and around the bulges and contours and then made a fist and hit himself there. I saw his expression change from wonder to something else. It was a grin that lit up his face, but it wasn’t merely an expression of joy. There was something hard underneath it. It reminded me of the grins I’d seen on many a high school jock. Kids who knew they had large, powerful bodies, bigger than most of the other guys, and really got off on it.
He flexed his arms, and when big, baseball sized biceps grew out of them, he began to laugh. He grabbed is right bicep and started squeezing it. He laughed and flexed and then flexed some more.
“Well let’s get him down from there,” said Doctor Kramer. “We need to take some blood and tissue samples, and then run a full physical.”
The guard reached over to grab Manuel, but the boy resisted, and subduing him was not the easy task it had been only a short while ago. “Mas!” cried Manuel, “Mas!”
“He’s put on some mass alright,” I said.
“No,” said Evan, smirking. “Manuel is asking for more. He wants more. And who could blame him?”
Just then Manuel broke away from the guard and leapt back into the tank. “Mas,” he called, while treading water “Por favor, Mas!”
Evan looked over at me and shrugged. “I’m such a pushover,” he said and he hit a couple of keys on the computer.
“No!” cried the doctor but it was too late.
The tank began bubbling. Manuel began thrashing and his face contorted as he yelled, “ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” And we all watched as his entire body began to grow thicker. It was amazing.
Manuel seemed perfectly conscious of what was happening to him, and he was enjoying it. No, more than enjoying it; he was exalting in it. He lifted up his hand and stared at it as it grew wider and broader and his fingers got longer and thicker, then he bunched it into a fist and grinned as it grew even more.
He flexed his arm and felt it as it pulsed larger with every beat of his heart. His biceps grew bigger and bigger and bigger until they were like grapefruits.
His torso just seemed to blow up, his shoulders grew wider and his delts exploded into three huge segmented masses. His chest got broader, pushing out in front of him and ballooning into enormous striated globes. And his back swelled up thicker, becoming a vast wall of thick, rippling sinew. His legs just erupted bulk. It was like each head was trying to squeeze the others out by becoming the most massive. Manuel was all muscle now, all of him. Slabs of it, balls of it, and rolls of it came heaving up out of him like it had been long trapped and was now escaping.
And there could be no doubt he had gotten taller, too. It was kind of hard to tell with him thrashing around in the tank, but I was pretty sure he had passed six feet. In fact, his new height coupled with his new build was starting make him look quite gigantic.
And he was still shouting. The volume kept increasing and the timbre kept dropping; it was quickly changing from a yell to a full fledged roar, which erupted from him in heart stopping surges while he thrashed violently around in the tank.
“Look at him,” breathed Evan, “He takes my breath away…the pure animal power…swelling up all over his body, consuming him as we watch.”
“Evan,” I said, “I think you should stop this.”
“Not you too, Justin,” he said. “With your tastes in men, I thought you, at least, would appreciate this.”
“I do, Evan, believe me, I do, but he doesn’t look emotionally stable to me. Who knows what he’ll do when he gets out of there. And if he gets much bigger he will be very difficult to control.”
“Hmmm,” said Evan, “You may be right.” Then he hit a couple of keys and the bubbling slowed down.”
“NO!” bellowed Manuel, his voice booming thunder. “MAS!” I’d swear I felt the room shake.
“No mas, Manuel,” said Evan. And he continued shutting the systems down.
“MAS!” yelled Manuel and now that the bubbling had stopped all together I could see how truly huge Manuel had become. And he was pissed—not a good combination.
Manuel took one of his large hands, balled it into a fist and slammed it against the tank. “MAS!” he roared.
“Stop that at once,” snapped Evan, evidently forgetting to use Spanish, “you’ll damage my tank.”
But Evan’s admonishment only seemed to enrage Manuel further and he began pounding on the inside of the tank with both fists. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
“Idiot!” said Evan. “Doesn’t he realize that if he destroys the tank, he won’t be able to get any mas.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say he’s probably not thinking very rationally at the moment.”
Evan shot me an angry glance, before shouting up at the guard on the platform above the tank, “Get him out of there.”
The guard looked down at the huge muscle-bound teen rampaging in the seething liquid and then looked back at us like we were out of our minds. “Como?” he said.
BAM came the sound of Manuel’s large fist impacting on the glass followed by the sharp sound of cracking glass.
“That glass is four inches thick,” said Dr. Kramer.
And yet a few hairline cracks were forming, stretching their way further and further up the side of the tank
BAM!
“He’s going to be out of there in a few minutes, and he doesn’t look very happy,” I said.
Doctor Kramer shouted something in Spanish and a few guards stepped forward with automatic weapons raised.
“No,” said Evan. “Under no circumstances is he to be killed. We can’t study him effectively if he’s dead.”
And that was all anybody had time to say. BAM! The glass exploded outward into a million shards and suddenly a torrent of the green liquid came rushing out of the tank. When it hit me it had a warm, electric feel to it. Like the slap of cold air on a winter’s morning, it was kind of refreshing. .
But as exhilarating as I found it, it was nothing compared to the reaction Evan was having. He shuttered all over and I swear I saw him swell up just a little. He lifted his arm and below his rolled up sleeve I could see the distinct lines of slim corded muscles. They looked starkly out of place on his rather anemic looking frame. But then his frame didn’t look quite as anemic as it had just a few seconds before, and he seemed to realize it. He opened and closed his fist, watching his new forearms flex and relax with a smile of wonderment on his lips. But he only had a couple of seconds to enjoy it before we had a big problem on our hands.
“ARRRRGH!” yelled Manuel. He was out of the tank and oh my God, he was huge now. About six foot five, he must have been somewhere around 500 pounds of dripping steaming muscle. He raised his arms in an impressive double bi, looked from one arm to the other, and then turned to us and roared.
Evan pulled out his cell phone, hit speed dial, and barked a couple of words into it. Who could he possibly be calling at a time like this?
I tried to decide if Manuel was angry or just overwhelmed with his new size and power. In retrospect, I realize it was some combination of the two, but at the time clear thought was completely beyond me, and I couldn’t decide. Of course when he started swinging those huge arms of his and trashing the lab, I definitely started leaning towards anger.
“Do something!” Evan yelled at the guard who was still standing slack jawed up on the platform.
The guard pulled his gun and shot it into the air. It worked. Manuel paused and turned to look at him. The guard started waving his gun and shouting at him in Spanish. But whatever he was saying Manuel didn’t seem to like it much. He growled at him then kicked out one of the supports from underneath the platform with one of his tree trunk legs. The platform collapsed dumping the guard on the ground. The poor man’s gun went flying, and in a second Manuel had grabbed him by the neck with one meaty hand and hoisted him into the air.
“Manuel stop!” I shouted, but I knew it was useless. Manuel didn’t understand English anymore than I understood Spanish. Besides he was clearly completely out of control and on one hell of a power trip. But to my amazement it seemed to work anyway. Manuel paused. One mighty arm still held the helpless guard who was pulling futilely at the enormous hand that held him firmly suspended in the air. Manuel got this frighteningly cocky smirk on his face, and as he continued to leer at the guard, the huge teen’s mammoth chest began rising and falling, heaving in and out. And then he started to make a low guttural noise, kind of a combination between a growl and a moan. And the deep groan grew in volume and frequency as his breathing grew faster and faster. I began to hear a ripping sound. A second later the biggest cock I’d ever seen exploded out of Manuel’s diaper reducing it to shreds.
“Holy fuck!” I cried. The thing had to be about twelve inches long and as thick around as a beer can. It had a thick bulbous head about as big around as my fist and finger thick veins running up the shaft. I mean you read about such things, but you never really expect to see one. And attached to Manuel’s incredibly large muscular form, it was a sight to behold. I found myself getting hard despite the horror of the situation.
And Evan… Evan was just standing there with his mouth agape, staring at the vision that was Manuel. “Look at him, Justin,” he said. “He’s so beautiful, just magnificent.”
But the guard didn’t think so. He looked down at Manuel’s huge engorged member and started screaming. He sounded like a little girl. Manuel looked annoyed at the sound, and tossed the guard away like a rag doll. The man hit the wall and slumped to the bottom unconscious. Then Manuel grabbed his giant cock and started jerking on it, groaning louder and louder until finally he erupted all over the lab.
The guard came to and started to run, but Manuel grabbed him again and started pounding on him.
Holy crap! What was the matter with me? I was watching a man get manhandled by muscle behemoth that only moments ago was a skinny wisp of a teenager... and getting incredibly turned on by it. I was so fucking hard I didn’t know what to do with myself. I shouldn’t be enjoying this… But I was. No, this was wrong. I had to stop this. If this kept up Manuel would kill that guard. I ran over and got the guard’s gun. I aimed it at Manuel.
“No,” cried Evan, “Stop.”
“We have to stop this, Evan,” I said.
Suddenly Evan got eerily calm. “You’ll have to kill him to do that, Justin,” he said. “Are you ready to kill him?”
“I don’t have to kill him,” I replied, “just wound him.”
“No,” said Evan shaking his head. “Not with that caliber weapon. You will only make him mad. Then he’ll come after you and you’ll be forced to kill him or be killed yourself. Are you prepared to kill him, Justin? Could you do that? You’d better be sure before you pull that trigger, because if you’re not it could cost you your life.”
I faltered. Could I kill him? He was a living breathing human being. And he wasn’t really responsible for what had happened to him. He was probably just on some hormone driven rampage. He could calm down and be fine in the morning. Did I have the right to end his life like this? No, I didn’t. I let the gun drop.
“Interesting,” said Evan just before the door burst open and Armond ran in. Of course, that’s who Evan had been calling. Evan just nodded in Manuel’s direction and Armond went to work. Manuel was pretty damn big, but Armond was still a little bigger than him, plus he knew what he was doing. In a matter of seconds, the big bodyguard had pulled Manuel off the guard, subdued him and rendered him unconscious.
“Well, Doctor Kramer,” said Evan, “you may run your tests now. I shall want a full report on exactly what happened here by the close of business tomorrow. And please see about having the tank repaired. It needs to be in working condition just as soon as possible. Good night.”
And then Evan turned, and, without another word, left the warehouse. Armond picked up the unconscious half naked guard and followed after him. Doctor Kramer walked over and looked down at Manuel’s large insensible form.
“What was it Doctor,” I asked, “What caused him to go berserk like that, some kind of testosterone induced fit?”
Doctor Kramer slowly shook his head. “I doubt it,” he sighed. “I suspect a much simpler explanation. There were rumors that some of the guards were physically abusing the boys. I didn’t believe them at first, but now I suspect they were true.”
He sighed again and shook his head. “But his behavior might have been due to a chemical imbalance, we won’t really know for sure until I run some tests.”
“Yes, of course,” I said. What a horrible place this was. Suddenly I wanted out of that warehouse. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” I said and I turned and walked quickly from the building.
When I got back to the main house it didn’t take me long to find the diminutive Mexican butler. He appeared to have been waiting up just for me. I felt instantly guilty. It wasn’t that long ago that I was in a position similar to his. I needed to remember that these people arranged their lives around us and I had to be more cognizant of that.
Fortunately, he seemed to know what I wanted and thus saved me the trouble of stumbling through broken Spanish and hand gestures. He led me straight upstairs to one of the bedrooms. I pulled open the door and went in. There was a dim light on by the bed and I soon as I walked in I could see there was someone in the bed. I almost turned around and went out again thinking that the butler had misunderstood me after all, when I stopped, and spun around. I had recognized the man in the bed.
“Cody?” I said, trying to mask my shock.
“Hey Justin,” grinned my ripped-to-shreds muscular boyfriend. “I was beginning to think you’d never come to bed.