Muscle Fantasy Island 3
by Londonboy
Harry ChangesHarry Winsor woke up with a start. It had been many years since slept so soundly. He remembered everything that had led up to this moment – the plane, the other fellows joining him (especially that sweet innocent lad named Mason), and what Dr. Slevin had said right before he had gone into his stupor. The good doctor had said the words best describing the rich man’s inner desires were beauty, youth, admiration, and self-worth. Even as he heard the words and wanted to deny them, Harry saw the doc had some pathway into his brain – no one had ever sensed those hidden feelings. Harry had become a little alarmed right before he fell prey to the sleep caused by the fumes in the assignment room. But there had also been great hope and now Harry woke up expecting great changes. He stared at the ceiling of his bungalow and took stock of how he felt.
The pain in his left leg was still there and this made Harry’s heart sank. He was also breathing hard, as usual for the slightly overweight man. It was obvious that Harry was still a middle-aged geezer. He had not changed in the way he had anticipated. His first instinct was to sue somebody – for promising things that they couldn’t produce. But the need to pee had grown greater than any other desire at that present moment. Harry slowly pulled himself free from the covers and slid out of the bed. He stood up, dejected, pushing away from the bed with his arms. When he turned around to move toward the bathroom he couldn’t help but glance in the full-length mirror mounted on the wall across the room. Harry’s vision was pretty bad and his need for bodily change played a vicious trick on him. The sight was fuzzy, but the reflection looked nothing like the elderly man that stood there. The man’s heart began to race with excitement. He turned to the bedside table and grabbed his glasses – almost breaking them as he put them up to his eyes. The vision that greeted him caused his legs to wobble. Harry let out a loud gasp. He moved his right hand up in the air, as if he were waving to someone, to make sure the person staring back was truly he. The arm motion was exactly like his – even the fingers were bent the same way. Harry moved closer to the mirror after securing the glasses on his face.
The face and body in the mirror was unfathomable to Harry. It was the mug of what appeared to be a nineteen or twenty-ish college athlete. When he slept, Harry always wore the same t-shirt that said Provincetown on it and a pair of old running shorts. The young buck framed by the mirror was filling out those same clothing items in a way that made it obvious they were about to rip. Harry glanced down at his own body to make sure what he saw was indeed real.
“Oh my goodness,” he said with a cry of pure glee. “Oh hell, listen to that voice. That’s one sexy sounding baritone. Now that’s a real man’s voice!”
Harry was momentarily distracted by the deep sound that reverberated around the room as he spoke. It was hard to grasp that the beautiful noise was coming out of his body – but that thought brought him immediately back to the magnificent piece of specimen producing the voice. The man looked back into the mirror and stared closely – noticing the perfect golden wavy hair that fell across his forehead, looking like he had just gotten it styled for a party or something even though he had just woken up. Harry could see dark emerald eyes looking back at him, still amazingly beautiful through the thick glasses. His face was chiseled beyond belief – dimples to die for and a strong jaw line that looked like someone had carved it perfectly out of marble.
The t-shirt was so tight on his body that it actually covered only the top of what looked like a light fur-covered solid eight-pack. There was a trail of light brown hair snaking down his stomach across the belly button to what he could see was a substantial package. Harry forced his gaze to move back up to the shirt. That’s when he noticed that the material was indeed ripped at the seams in places. His size had just changed too much. His youthful bulging pectoral muscles pushed the shirt forward in that “you know you want to suck on these bad boys” kind of way that every man desires. It was the kind of chest Harry had always secretly desired – and the one he had sometimes spent tons of money to sleep with, but all those times it had been on someone else’s body. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he gazed upon two shoulders that were pushing on the shirt so hard that skin was poking through big gaps on both muscled ends. Harry was dumbfounded by the width of both mountains sticking out from his thick neck.
“Sweet mother, look at those biceps!” Harry exclaimed when his eyes rested on the massive arms hanging from his huge shoulders.
The arms were certainly not the largest Harry had ever seen, but they were still perfect for the college stud-body he now had. As the man began to flex his triceps and bend his arms slightly at the elbows he realized that he was looking at the body of a massive kid at the peak of his physical abilities. It was clear that Harry was now about twenty, but he wasn’t just some normal college boy – no, Harry Winsor was now some pumped up, testosterone churning, mega athlete with a face that would make grown women faint and a body that would do the same to other guys. Harry was fixated on his arms, and watching them bulge as he tensed his fists and turned his wrists gave him a great idea. He raised his arms slowly; bringing them outstretched to shoulder level with is palms pointing toward the ceiling. He moved his gaze back and forth in the mirror to his right and then to his left arm. He also noticed this pose made the shirt climb up his torso – so much that he could now see all of his perfect rock-hard abs. He closed his hands tightly, squeezing with all his might, and then started to bring his forearms upward. Harry had never been any kind of jock or someone that frequented gyms (well, not for true exercise), but he brought his arms into a double biceps pose like he was a pro bodybuilder.
The peaks on his bulging arms ballooned out insanely and the t-shirt had not a hope in the world. Seams at every part of the skin-tight piece of clothing ripped at the same time. First, the biceps busted through the material and exploded into multi-layered slabs of muscle. Harry’s traps then shredded the top of the shirt while his lats busted the sides of the flimsy cloth at the same time. Watching the torn shirt fall from his huge frame and reveal all the intense muscle he knew existed beneath was too much for Harry to handle. His hardened cock, which had snaked way past the elastic top of his shorts, started ejaculating thick white semen onto his cobblestoned stomach and protruding pecs. A huge gob of his white juice landed on his right jutting nipple and just hung there like an orgasmic icicle. The pressure of the unintentional eruption was too much for the man and he stumbled back and sat down on the bed. The bending of his legs to reach the mattress was too much for his shorts – mainly because his thick quads exploded with so much new muscle – and the cotton tore completely at both sides. The material fell away, leaving Harry completely nude. As much as the man wanted to focus on his large legs, it was the thick-as-his-old-arm throbbing cock that received all of his attention. The fat head of his rod actually poked nicely into the bottom of the cavern created by his enormous chest. Harry instantly knew that he could easily blow himself with little bending of his upper body. A knock on the door made the man immediately snap out of his intense self-adoration.
“Yes?” he asked, a little too loudly.
“Breakfast, sir,” came the reply, “and a note from Dr. Slevin.”
“Umm, hold on,” responded Harry.
He quickly grabbed the sheet and wiped the hardening cum from his body. It was then that he noticed the room reeked of sex. He quickly moved to the bathroom and grabbed one of the towels. He wrapped it around his body, but the two ends couldn’t meet because of his thick quads – the thing was simply too small. He began to panic. How could he let this guy in when he was so indecent? He thought about wrapping the sheet around his body. His plans, though, were interrupted by the voice on the other side of the door.
“You’ll find clothes that fit you in the closet, sir,” the guy said.
“Um, thanks,” Harry answered as he stepped into the walk-in closet and grabbed a pair of shorts.
He quickly pulled them on as he went to the door. When he opened it a nice looking young man that was about two sizes smaller than the new and improved Harry greeted him. It was clear, however, that the smaller guy was still pretty solid and quite handsome. The poor boy’s mouth dropped open when he got his first glance of Harry and he didn’t move at all. He just stared at the beautiful stud before him. Harry was immediately embarrassed and brought his big arms across his chest – as if he might be able to hide his beautiful new big body. Both men stood there silently for a few seconds. Finally, Harry was able to speak.
“Umm, you can put that over there on the table,” he said pointing to the round piece of furniture surrounded by chairs in the kitchen area.
The comment somehow empowered the guy with the tray to move. He started walking toward the table, but he didn’t take his eyes off of the perfect body near him. Harry grabbed the envelope with his name on it lying on the tray as it went by. He quickly opened the note from Dr. Slevin. It merely said to enjoy the first phase of the transformation and to not panic about what he felt inside – that change would happen in the next step, which would not be for twenty-four hours. This immediately made Harry smile, as he realized that the aches and pains inside his body would be gone when his inner self caught up with the outer changes. This realization actually helped Harry to settle into his new skin, and muscles, even more. He turned to Marcus, he had read the name badge as he walked by, and beamed. The smaller man was just standing there staring at what he was sure was the most handsome man he’d ever seen.
“Is there anything else, Marcus?” Harry asked, turning to the young man and dropping his arms.
“Uh, yeah,” answered the boy, “could you share your workout routine with me? I want to get . . . um . . . as massive . . . I mean as big as you.”
Suddenly, Harry realized the great benefit of having the body he now possessed and being blessed with the experience and knowledge of his mature age. He actually saw through Marcus’ question easily. The poor boy didn’t really care about any workout routine – he really wanted to feel Harry’s body up close and personal. This newfound awareness was instantly recognized as part of Harry’s secret desires. He knew that his upcoming fantasy was going to include having the body of a twenty-year-old stud but having the expertise of someone older. This caused boldness in the newly muscled man that wasn’t there five minutes before. He stepped into the room a little.
“Yeah, man, I think I could help you in the gym a little,” Harry said with a smile. “You’ve got a pretty good foundation already, so it should be pretty easy for you to bulk up. How about a little shared time with the weights when you get off work?”
“Um, sure. That would be great. I’m off around seven. I’ll come by,” the boy responded nervously.
It was again clear that lifting weights together had not been Marcus’ true intention. He was looking for a different kind of workout and Harry knew this instinctively, but the bigger man was not going to let Marcus off so easily – he just stood there smiling. The silence finally got to the nervous smaller man.
“I could also help you with that,” he said quietly.
“With what?” Harry asked.
“Um . . . with that,” Marcus responded and pointed to Harry’s crotch.
Harry had been so invigorated by all the new thoughts and feelings that were racing through his head he had not realized that his cock was already at full mast again. The inner older man was just so turned on by the changes to his outer self that he had popped a second boner in a span of ten minutes – something unheard of for the Harry Winsor of yesterday. It was pressing obscenely against the material at his crotch.
“You mean you want to take care of this big thing?” Harry teased as he reached down and quickly pushed his shorts beyond his giant quads.
The big man then reared back up and let his big thick cock slap up against his abs – the fat head a deep purple from the cum building up inside. The sight of such an imposing dick was too much for Marcus. He let out a loud gasp and ran, not walked, to the front door of the bungalow. He didn’t say anything and he certainly didn’t wait for any kind of tip – for fear of the giant tip at the end of Harry’s cock. The poor boy didn’t even close the door behind him. Harry chuckled as he went to shut the door and then walked over to his breakfast.
“It’s time for this young buck to be unleashed on the world,” Harry said to himself. "I think I’m going to have a hell-of-a good time.”