Self-Actualization (mm musc)
Author's note: Happy 2nd Anniversary O! Congratulations on reaching such a landmark. You know, those of us who share the transformation fetishes really owe you a debt of gratitude. You have done so much to help us out and "give us a hand", especially in free erotic gay literature!
I really thank you for giving me a chance to write this story for you. I have really enjoyed the challenge of trying to do justice to your awesome drawings, and I hope I have done so! Once again CONGRATULATIONS!
Disclaimers: The following fictional work contains themes which may be inappropriate for those under the age of 18. If you do not wish to be exposed to the themes of gay sex or male body transformation, or even muscle growth, then do not continue reading.
Carl stood in the sun, walking down the beach in a tight Speedo that showed off his manly assets. At 6'7", he was a mountain of a man, weighing 350 pounds ofrock-solid muscle. He filled out the Speedo too well, for it was bulging obscenely. He smiled that killer smile of his, showing off his pecs and biceps as he ran his hands through his shortly cropped hair. Many women and quite a few men watched him. Some in lust, others with envy, and a few others with scorn.
"Hi!" A handsome young lad of about twenty said to him.
"Hey yourself," Carl replied.
"Can I get some service around here?" the handsome youth asked.
"Sure," Carl said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Your place or mine's?"
"Yo! Fat fuck, can I get some service around here?"
"What?" Carl said, confused.
"I said 'Fat fuck, can I get some service around here?" the youth taunted him, turning into a clothed jock with a six-pack of beer.
Carl looked around. Things were where they should have been. The cash register, the cigarettes, the smell of oil, and the gasoline pumps. He was right back where he had started, overweight, overworked and underpaid. Carl was an attendant working the late shift at a 24-hour gas station. He really wasn't a muscle god, but he wanted to be one.
He rang up the kid's beer and gas, and sighed. "That was getting good too!" Carl thought to himself.
"Kids today!" a deep voice said..
"You said it!" Carl replied. "They always seem to be in a rush, and never have time for manners."
"You can say that again," the man replied.
Carl checked out the guy and gasped. He was about 6'2" tall, and very well built. The man was wearing a very stylish suit, which was made of some kind of stretch material that flattered and accentuated his athletic musculature. His long, straight black hair was tied back into a ponytail. His eyes were an intense green. He had an air of confidence as he stood there, and Carl felt that he should respect this man.
"You know," Carl started, "I don't think I was ever that disrespectful. Hell, if I had that kid's body, I think that I would have all the respect in the world for all people. I mean, that kid's got it made. It seems that youth is truly wasted on the young!"
"That is so true," the stranger replied, "The name's Morgan, Dr. Mark Morgan." Dr. Mark said as he held out his hand.
"Carl Turner," Carl said, shaking Dr. Mark's hand.
"Nice to meet you Carl. You know, you don't really meet people like you these days."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean good-natured people. You seem to be a dying breed."
"Well thanks for the compliment. I pay my taxes, do my job, and mind my own business. It ain't much but it's a living."
"Yeah, that it is. Well, it was really nice talking to you, but I'm kind of late for a seminar. Could I please pay you for pump number 2?"
"Been nice talking to you too." Car wished that this conversation could have gone on longer. He rang up Dr. Mark's gas, and shook his hand one last time.
"Take care Carl, I'm sure that things will be looking up for you in the near future!" Dr. Mark said as the door closed behind him. Carl's eyes followed Dr. Mark as he entered his car (a new black BMW) and drove off, offering Carl one last wave.
"Damn! He was FINE!" Carl said to himself. Just then, he noticed a book on the counter next to the cash register. "Funny," Carl thought, "I don't think this was here earlier."
He looked at the title. "Self-Actualization: If you can dream it, you can become it" the title read. A self-help book. Carl let out a small chuckle. He had read many self-help books over the years, but none of them ever seemed to help. But being that it was gonna be a long night, Carl picked up the book and began to read.
"And remember," the book read, "if you can dream it, you can become it."
Carl had heard that particular line so many times, it was annoying. How many times had he tried dreaming about the kind of body that he so badly wanted.
"What the fuck?" he figured, "If it doesn't work this time, at least I can have a great jack off session when I get home later.
Carl pictured a garage. He could smell the gasoline, oil and other scents that defined an auto repair shop. He could see the tools of an auto mechanic's trade. The wrenches, bolts, nuts, hydraulic jacks and other things that were only discernable to a grease monkey. In the back of the garage, there were some windows, with sunlight streaming in. A doorway lead somewhere. In that doorway, a silhouette appeared. In fact, it took up much of the space in that doorway. The dark figure was in the shadows, but it was huge... A mountain of a human being. The figure took a step into the sunlight and...
BAM! An open hand slapped the back of Carl's head. "Wake up you fucking slob." It was Warren, also known as "The Warden", Carl's boss. Warren was a lot of stuff that Carl was not. He stood an even 6 feet tall, and weighed close to 250 pounds, most of it was indeed muscle. But Warren, a wrestler in college, had gone to seed. He had a small spare tire around his middle. Even so, he was still a hit with the few ladies in this small town. If it weren't for his crappy attitude, Warren would be a pretty decent guy.
"I don't pay you to fucking stand around and daydream all night."
"Sorry Warden," Carl said humbly.
"What was that?"
"That's better. Now get the hell out of here! I'm getting tired of seeing your ugly face."
Not needing to be told twice, Carl gathered up his stuff, and headed home.
As Dr. Dr. Mark Morgan had noticed earlier, Carl Turner was indeed a good-natured fellow. For the most part, he was a delightfully, big, huggable teddy-bear of a man. He always had a dime or an ear to spare, and he would never hurt a fly. Sadly, because of this, many people had walked all over him over the years.
No matter how hard he tried, he could never seem to get ahead in life. At sixteen, he had started working at Warren's Garage and Gas. Always good at taking things apart and putting them back together again, he had been saving his money to go to college to become a mechanical engineer. You see, his parents were poor, and he knew that he couldn't depend on them to send him to school. But, even though that was the case, Carl felt that he should pay for college himself. He didn't want to be a burden on anyone.
When Carl turned 18, in the summer before he was to go to State U, Carl's mother was diagnosed with cancer. The doctors were quite optimistic about her prognosis, however, since his family had no health insurance, and the government said that they were too rich to be considered poor, the Turner family had to come up with the money themselves. At first, Cathy, Carl's mother tried to keep things quiet from Carl. He was such a bright boy, she didn't want him to ruin his life because of her. But after she collapsed one day while cooking breakfast, it was impossible to hide the truth from Carl any longer.
It took less than a second for Carl to figure out what he was going to do. After he visited his mom in the hospital, he headed straight to the bank and withdrew his life savings. It totaled over $15,000, little more than the down payment needed for his mom's cancer therapy.
At first, Carl's mom responded well to the treatments.But, in the second month, things took a turn for the worse. Cathy was confined to the hospital, and Carl almost never left her side. He was there when with a teary eye, Cathy said goodbye, and passed on.
The service was somber, and quickly passed. In August, Carl received another nasty surprise. It turned out that his father had been seeking solace from Cathy's best friend while Cathy was in the hospital. They were set to get married in October. They left Carl, and he never heard from either again.
While Carl's father looked for comfort in women, Carl looked elsewhere... In food. Carl gained 20 pounds in one month. In three months, Carl tipped the scales at 240 pounds. Being only 5' 8", it meant that Carl was severely obese. The stress in Carl's life combined with the depression he was in, helped contribute to his early hair loss. By the age of 25, Carl looked 35, weighed 350 pounds and was almost bald.
Carl hadn't gone to work for about a year, and would have wasted away if not for one thing. His mother had had a life insurance policy worth around $25,000. Only she knew about this, and had named Carl the sole beneficiary. After his period of mourning, Carl asked for his old job at the gas station back, and his dreams of becoming a mechanical engineer gathered dust.
Carl walked into his apartment trying to balance a bag containing two Mexican pizzas, a box of 10 tacos and an extra-large coke. He managed to turn on the lights on in his small studio. In one corner stood a garbage can, overflowing with empty pizza boxes, burger wrappers, French fry containers, empty beer cans and other remains of an unhealthy lifestyle.
Dirty laundry and magazines lay scattered about the floor. A full sized bed was positioned in another corner. On a desk along the wall, in the only clean spot in the apartment, was a framed picture of his mother, next to his computer.
Carl dumped his breakfast on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and went to the fridge to grab a beer. He plopped down on the sofa, and reached into the Taco Bell bag. Grabbing what he thought was a Mexican pizza, Carl took it out of the bag, and was a little surprised when he found that self-help book. Carl chucked the book on the other end of the sofa and with great effort, reached for the remote. He flicked on the TV, hoping to find something interesting to watch on the tube.
"Squeeze, squeeze, SQUEEZE your way to..." *Click*
"I lost 10 pounds in just 30 days on the..." *Click*
"I was fat too! I was obese! I was a beached whale! But then, I got off of my..." *Click*
"Hello. I'm Don Lupree" *Click*
"I'm not only the president, I'm also a ..." *Click*
"Get fit for life!" *Click*
"Just 15 minutes a day, 3 days a week, and you can have the body..." *Click*
"Oh fucking hell!" Carl though as he turned off the television, and through the remote on the table with disgust. Carl sat there in silence as he finished off the last of the tacos. With a sigh, he stood up and walked to his closet. He stripped off his clothing and sadly looked at his reflection in a mirror attached to the closet door.
To say that what Carl saw was unimpressive was an understatement. His balding head, and weak triple chin were abysmal. A stubby little mustache that he had always wanted to grow to a goatee just looked silly. Then, as if just joint to his head, his shoulders hunched a bit. Flowing down in some sort of shapeless mass, Carl's arms hung at his sides. Whenever he waved, the blubber of his arms would comically wobble. Going down the trunk of his body, two man tits slightly hung over his 56-inch beer belly. He hadn't seen his dick without looking in a mirror in years, and even if he did, he would find it only measuring a little over 4 inches. His ass sagged and looked like melting vanilla ice-cream. And his legs were just fat and stubby. No, Carl was definitely unimpressive.
In the mirror, Carl caught sight of the book on the couch. "Why the hell not?" he thought. He walked over to the couch, picked up the book, and got into bed. Laying on his left side, Carl read the book again. "In order to actualize, you must first realize what it is you want to become. Empty your mind, and focus. Begin to realize your goal. Your desire. Take the first step to self-actualization."
Carl closed his eyes, and began to focus. What he saw at first was just a swirling mass of clouds. The clouds cleared, and he saw that he was strapped onto some kind of surgical stainless steel operating table. He was naked, and all these strange pieces of equipment were attached here and there around his body. He tried to scream, but all he found was a cock and ball gag shoved into his mouth. As he looked up, he saw someone looking down on him. But, with the operating theater lights being super bright, all Carl could really see was the silhouette of a rather large man... who looked strangely familiar.
In a voice like the deep rumble of thunder, he asked "Hmmm, what have we here?"
Carl's ears filled with recognition, but he couldn't place the voice.
"So, what do we have to work with today?"
The man looked down on Carl and like a butcher inspects slaughter, he scrutinized Carl.
"Do you know who I am yet, Carl?" he asked.
Carl's eyes widened as he saw Dr. Mark Morgan, the man he had met earlier that day.
"That's right! It's me, Dr. Mark. My, aren't you a bright one! But Carl, your body. It's in a word: pathetic. I guess, however, that is the reason I am here. And I know just how to start!"
Dr. Mark flicked a switch and one of the devices attached to Carl's body came to life. The instrument looked like a giant test tube that had tubing coming out of the bottom end. It was attached to his penis, and with a swoosh, the tube suctioned on to the flesh around the base of the penis. Carl's penis began to expand, lengthening and thickening. While normally, such devices were for entertainment purposes only, this one would cause permanent changes. The ministrations of the machine were hardly painful. Instead, they were quite pleasurable, and Carl began to enjoy, and even relish, the sensations coming from his groin.
Carl's penis remained erect, continuing to lengthen, as Dr. Mark said, "Yes, that looks much better. Now, let's look at the rest of you. Hmmmm. I think we should activate the hair modules now."
Minute electrical charges began to spread on Carl's chin and scalp. Tiny pinpricks of electricity began to stimulate the hair follicles, restarting what had once been turned off. Bit by bit, the hair began to grow out. A slight shadow began to form around Carl's mouth.
"Things are progressing smoothly Carl," Dr. Mark said. "Now, I'm afraid, but this is going to hurt... A LOT!" He took a syringe and filled it up with a viscous, clear liquid. Then, taking one of Carl's balls into his hand, he injected the growth hormone quickly.
In the real world, Carl screamed in pain. He didn't wake up, however, he did grab on to his bed sheet in anguish. Carl was unaware of the changes ensuing, but if he could see himself in a mirror, he would have been shocked! His body already had lost some of its roundness. And the other changes that had happened in his dream, had also happened in real life. His dick was harder than it had ever been, and it was also longer. In fact, it was tenting so hard in his shorts, that the fabric was straining to hold it back. A hint of a goatee had formed on his chin. And things were only going to get better for Carl!
Carl sat up. "Huh?" he asked. He looked around and saw that his surroundings had changed. Now, he was in a crowded gym. He sat up, and found himself on a sit-up board. Loud, thumping music was playing in the background, and all about him, handsome, athletic hunks worked out. Carl felt his body and was astonished. He wasn't obese. In fact, now he looked slightly overweight. He was dressed in work out wear, some loose gym shorts and a loose fitting t-shirt. "Well," he thought, "when in Rome..." and he started to do some sit-ups.
"I see you started without me," someone said.
Looking up, Carl recognized the boy from the gas station earlier that day.
"Sorry Jim," Carl said, unable to stop himself, "It's just that... well, damn, you know how much I like working out!"
"Yeah Carl, I know," Jim said. "So, we're starting with abs today, huh?"
"Yup. You know, some of us actually have to work for our abs!" Carl exclaimed.
"It's called good genetics." Jim replied. "As they say in the commercials, don't hate me because I'm beautiful!"
With a mock laugh, Carl got back to his sit-ups. At first, Carl struggled with each one. Each repetition was an exercise in pain. But with determination, Carl pressed on. Twenty sit-ups became 50 sit-ups. Fifty sit-ups became 100 incline sit-ups. And as he performed each maneuver, the desire to do more filled his being.
Half and hour later, Carl stood up. He looked into the mirrored wall, and felt pretty good about himself. His paunch had disappeared. "Come on," he called over to Jim. "It's time to hit legs!"
As Jim staggered over to Carl, Carl couldn't help but notice that Jim's gut seemed to be protruding more than usual. "Dude," he said, "You had better lay off of those doughnuts!" Carl playfully tapped Jim's stomach.
"Yeah, I know," Jim replied, "I can't help it if I've always had this paunch. We can't all be like you, you know! Never gaining a single ounce of fat! I wish!"
"I'm sorry little buddy!"
Jim didn't answer as he headed off to the leg machines.
Carl was really enjoying the squat rack. The weights were really piled on, and Carl was really benefiting from the workout. After two sets of twenty, the 400 pounds he was squatting seemed too light. So, he added on a hundred pounds. After a set of this, he started feeling an electric charge in his legs. It felt fucking awesome! Another set flew by. The weights were getting light again. The cycle repeated itself until he was doing 30 reps of 1,000 pounds. He was buzzing. Hell, his legs were on fire. But he was high on muscle. Without checking up on Jim, Carl headed towards the bench press.
Carl loaded up the bar with 300 pounds. He struggled at first. He almost wanted to call for a spotter. But, as he continued doing each repetition perfectly, the weight became easier and easier to lift. Blood rushed through his pectoral muscles. It also rushed to his cock, making it throb. "Damn, this is so fucking hot!" he thought. For his next set, Carl put on an additional 200 pounds. Although he knew that this wasn't right, somehow, he knew that he would be able to do it. Inhaling, Carl lifted up the weight, and pressed it ten times. "Shit," he thought, "This is easy!" And with that, Carl continued benching 500 pounds until he could press no more.
By now, Carl had removed his shirt, and was only dressed in a jock. The sit-ups, squats and bench presses, had made him all hot, horny and sweaty, and he had been feeling constricted. He got a few catcalls from some of the guys around him, but it was all good. They were all men here after all. He looked into the mirror and was happy with what he saw. His chest was glorious. Like two slabs of granite, they were molded perfectly. A four-pack could be seen, but it had just a little bit of fat obstructing the other muscles from view. His legs were like telephone poles. Thick, corded and swollen with muscle.
"Next, arms," he thought.
"Yeah!," Carl murmured in his sleep. "Work those biceps. Com'on, grow!"
As Carl worked his arms in his dream, in the real world, Carl's arms grew. First, all the fat disappeared. With each lift, the muscles in the arms grew millimeters. The biceps rounded, growing thicker, more corded. As the biceps enlarged, so did the triceps. They bloated with muscle.
"49... 50... 51..." Carl barked out in his sleep. "Yeah, *groan* *moan*, com'on."
And with each count new growth could be observed. In practically no time, Carl's biceps had grown into mountainous peaks measuring over 34 inches. His forearms now resembled the calf of an Olympic gymnast.
"Fuck yeah!" Carl cried out.
And with a final repetition, Carl's prick ripped through his boxers.
Blackness. Emptiness. That is what Carl saw around him as the gym faded from view. It seemed as if Carl was both standing on air, and was standing on nothing at all. A bright white light filled Carl's vision. A mirror faded into existence. The mirror itself was about three feet wide, and over seven feet tall. It was just a solid sheet of glass that was suspended in front of Carl.
Somehow, Carl could see himself as he now was. He stood over 6 feet tall, and weighed about the same as he had before his transformation. However, the weight was no longer fat. Instead, it was glorious, powerful muscle. His shoulders were about 30 inches across. His arms jutted out at a slight angle, while resting on his developed lats. His arms were carved out of stone, and even harder than rock. His chest! Oh his glorious chest! It was now solid and proud, not the drooping man tits they once were. He could actually see definition in his abs, something he hadn't seen since high school! And his dick! What a sight it was! Even though his pectoral muscles obstructed the view of the base of the cock, they didn't obstruct the view of the magnificent tool his prick had become. His legs. His legs put Michelangelo's David to shame. They were graceful, yet full of muscle.
As Carl examined his body in the mirror, it clouded over. Things began to take shape in the mirror. A room formed. A tool bench. Cans of oil, wrenches, toolboxes, hydraulic lifts. Things that were found in the garage at work began to take shape. However, instead of being the old and worn stuff that was there now, this stuff was all new. Or at the very least, maintained to look like new.
A shadow appeared on the floor in the mirror. It grew larger. The figure was approaching the mirror. The scent of a garage filled Carl's nostrils. The scent of a man came next. A masculine, sex-laden, macho odor.
"Hello Carl," the man said as he appeared in the mirror.
Carl tried to get a good look at the man. He was a mountain. The guy was dressed in the tight fitting uniform of a mechanic. He stood over 6'6" tall, and had to weigh at least 440. Veins crisscrossed across his forearms and up his biceps and triceps. A large throbbing vein stood up along the side of his neck. The man's entire musculature could be seen pressing tightly against his clothing.
Carl tried to get a good look at the man's face, but he failed... it was covered in shadow.
"He... he... Hello," Carl said. "Ummm... who are you?"
"I think you know who I am Carl," the man said, sounding like the distant rumble of thunder.
"Have we met? I'm sure I'd have remembered you!" Carl said nervously.
"Oh, we've met Carl. You can say that we've been very intimate."
"Why are you hiding in the shadows?"
"Oh, I'm not hiding Carl," he said, "I'm just waiting..."
"Waiting? Waiting for what?"
The man approached the edge of his side of the mirror. While his face was still hidden, he held up his hand, and pressed his palm on it. "Do you trust me Carl?"
"Hell yeah I do!" And saying that, Carl also pressed his palm on the mirror's surface.
Carl reached out for the man's hand. He grabbed on to something solid, and pulled with all of his might. Slowly, a hand came out of the mirror. The hand was calloused and rough. It was the hand of a man who did things with his hands day in and day out. His forearm came through next, pulsating with blood. His upper arm, shoulder, chest, abdomen, legs. And finally, with an audible *plop* the man's head came through.
Carl looked at the man dumbfounded. "It can't be!"
"But it is!"
"But... But... you're me!"
"That's right Carl. I'm everything you want to be. I am your vision of your perfect self. The person that you dream of becoming. Of being."
"A little self-actualization is all it took."
"You mean that stupid book?"
"Sometimes, it is when we hit rock-bottom that we find different paths to take."
"Life is a journey, and we are on a path. We are on but one path of many. Our choices in life dictate what will happen to us in the future. Here, let me give you and example."
Big Carl waved his fingers around the mirror and instantly, an image of Jim, the guy that Carl had been working out with appeared. "You met Jim earlier today at Warren's. However, let us say that had he taken a different path in life, this is what he would have become." The image changed to that of an overweight nerd. He was getting picked on in high school. Later, he was getting picked on in college. He would never really get over it, even with weekly visits to a psychologist. "So you see, our choices in life, determine what we become."
"You're not gonna leave him like that, are you?"
"Concerned about Jim? After he was such an asshole to you? Why pity his life now?"
"Because, no one deserves to live like that. Sure he was an asshole before, but I have no right to cast judgment on him."
With a sigh, Big Carl said, "You're right. I'm glad to hear you say that."
"No reason." Big Carl leaned down on Little Carl and kissed him lovingly on the lips. He reached down and squeezed Carl's erect penis. The kiss lingered on. Little Carl broke the kiss first, and started to lick his way down the bigger man's chest. He kissed and sucked his was down to Big Carl's nipples. Down the ridges of his abs. "I want you inside of me."
"Your wish is my command."
The bigger Carl literally ripped off his pants. His thick, 20-inch cock was teeming with pre-cum, and no lube would be needed. With no preparation, Big Carl thrust into the smaller version of himself.
"Uugh!" Little Carl moaned.
Big Carl pumped Little Carl up the ass. Each thrust went deeper. Each thrust was ecstasy for Little Carl. Moan after moan escaped the smaller Carl's lips. But with each thrust Little Carl grew.
At first, whatever fat remained on Little Carl disappeared. It just vanished. Carl was really getting into the sex. Each thrust was driving him more and more into lust. "Fuck! Pound my ass big guy!" Sweat trickled down the brows of both Carls. By now, Little Carl had fallen on his knees, and was standing on all fours. "MMMHHHUHM!" Carl muttered in a slightly deeper voice.
Big Carl's thrusts were powerful, but were going deeper and deeper. Eventually, Little Carl's ass had taken in all of Big Carl's fuckstick. But Big Carl continued relentlessly to thrust in and out of Little Carl. And each time, when the base of Big Carl's cock made contact with Little Carl's ass, an electrifying sensation swept through Little Carl.
"I'm getting close!" Big Carl shouted.
The distance between Big Carl and Little Carl began to grow smaller and smaller. Even with Big Carl pulling all the way back, the space between the two shrank. To someone observing this fuck session, it would seem that while all 20 inches were coming out, with each thrust, Big Carl and Little Carl were fusing together. Big Carl was fucking himself into Little Carl!
Big Carl's motions became more exaggerated. When he thrust in, his entire upper body curved in line with the smaller man's. When he thrust out, his body curved out a little, but then, when he thrust back in again, he came nearer to Little Carl. "UUGH!" the moan came out in stereo. Each plunge drawing the two closer together. Each stab merging the two into one.
"I'm cumming!" they both shouted at the same time!
And then, there was blackness.
"I'm cumming!" Carl shouted in his sleep. A torrent of cum escaped from Carl's throbbing penis! Streams of cum erupted from the reservoir of orange-sized balls that Carl now possessed. It kept on coming out for a good 10 minutes, before subsiding to a gentle trickle. Carl rolled over on his side, and entered a peaceful, dreamless slumber.
The bright morning light streamed through the window and landed on Carl's face. Blinking, Carl slid to a sitting position on the bed and stretched, feeling something unusual in his arm.
"Huh?" he thought. He felt his left arm with his right hand. "This isn't my arm! Whose arm is this?! I must still be dreaming!" Carl slipped back down into bed, and sat up suddenly. "Shit! I'm not dreaming!"
Carl glanced at the hands that were in front of him. They were not the hands that he had fallen asleep with, that was for sure! They were calloused, and large. REALLY large! A light bulb came on in his head. And he rushed for a mirror. Carl ran to the bathroom, and threw open the door. "WHOA!" he said aloud. "It wasn't a dream!"
The image staring back at Carl stood 6'6" tall. All of Carl's hair had grown back, and he now sported a dark crew cut. The goatee that he had always wanted was now there, perfectly trim and sexy. But most surprising to Carl was his new face. He could sill see that it was his face, but it was a hyper-masculine version of it. Sharp edges were now present where there were round curves. A lantern-jaw and chiseled jaw line gave Carl the face of a model. His cheekbones had become higher and more pronounced. And his eyes had mysteriously become more bright and eye-catching.
The changes in Carl's face were nothing to the changes in Carl's body. He now weighed 44O pounds. His muscles had a perfect balance of power and symmetry. Tightly corded muscle stood out along his body. With each movement Carl made, his muscles flexed and unflexed. Veins snaked across the vast mass that he now possessed. Trying to get a good look at his ass, he found that he now owned a pair of spheres that anyone on the street would give third and fourth looks at. Carl could scarcely believe that he had cobblestones for abs now, and he gently ran his right hand down and across the deep valleys he now possessed. Lower and lower the hand went until it reached the band of his shorts.
The bulge there piqued his curiosity. With a sly smile, he ripped off his pants easily, and took in his new equipment. Instantly, his bone was hard, and craved attention. He could barley wrap his hands around his new cock, but he slowly slid them up and down his pole. The sexual current surged and with the slightest of touches he came! He just couldn't help himself he was so turned on! "This is going to be a great life!" he said out loud in his new low resonant voice.
Carl was really enjoying his new life. His sex-life, which was previously nonexistent, had greatly improved. In he Self-Actualization process, Carl had found that he was now the owner of the garage and gas station. It was called Carl's Auto! Apparently, after his mom died, Carl instead of choosing food, chose exercise. And then, the insurance money that he received, was now an even 5 million dollars. Unknown to anyone, his mom was an heiress to a great fortune. Dr. Mark Morgan had come back through town, and the two had the beginnings of a great relationship.
Carl watched as the short, overweight guy got into his car. Carl had been watching him for a while, and had decided that this was an honest, kind and caring man who just needed a break. He hoped passing the book on to him would be just the break that he needed!