London Demon Muscle

The gay bar scene in London tends to be a little drab sometimes, especially in the little dive I go to that's closest to my flat. The place always feels dank and pasty, and although some of the clientele are decent enough, they lean toward the pasty side of looks, like you might expect in London during the winter. But that night when I walked in, things felt a bit different. Mostly the same blokes milling about, but it felt warmer somehow, more inviting. I noticed it right away. I also noticed the stranger sitting in the corner booth. It was dark back there, but I could see the other patrons walking by, trying not to be obvious as they tried to sneak a peak. I went to the end of the bar and sat the stool that was closest to the booth. I ordered a pint of ale, and as the barkeep walked away, I heard a voice say "You'd be far more comfortable over here.". It was a deep masculine voice, sexy without trying, the kind of voice you'd expect a stud of a porn star to have. I looked over my shoulder at the booth, and he leaned into the light just enough for me to see his face. I'm not sure but what I didn't gasp. He was unusually handsome for this little bar, swarthy and dark, like a rugby player from the south of Spain. I looked around to see if he could possibly be talking to anyone else.

"It's you I want," he said, seeming to understand my doubt. It was a very forward statement from a stranger, and it sent a chill down my spine. But when the barkeep put my pint on the bar, I picked it up and walked over to the booth. "Have a seat," he said, as he slid back into the dark corner. I sat down and took a drink of my beer. It was warmer in the confines of the booth. Hot, almost. "You have a place we could go?" he asked me. That scared me enough that I started to slide out of the booth, but he grabbed hold of my knee and squeezed, his grip like an iron vice. He pulled me back in, this time closer to him, close enough to catch his scent, which was like a freshly mowed cricket field on a hot summer day.

"Let go," I said, but I didn't really want him to. I was facing him now, and he was better looking than I had even imagined. In fact, it was like someone had taken my fantasy man and made him come to life. Dark and dangerously good looking. Deep voiced and powerful. I could feel the power of his forearm as I gripped his thick wrist as he continued to hold onto my leg, his strong fingers digging in just hard enough to cause some pain. It was turning me on. Then he leaned in and kissed me. He had the hottest mouth I'd ever tasted. Literally hot, like he had a fever. But also sexy hot, as he worked his tongue around the inside of my mouth like he had a master's degree in French kissing. It made me lightheaded. He stopped before I wanted him to.
"Now you have a place for us to go?" he said.

On the walk back to my flat, my heart was pounding hard in my chest. What was I doing? This guy could definitely be a basher, with his black leather coat and big, broad, working class shoulders. As we turned the corner off the main street, I figured this is where it would happen. He put his big beefy hand on my neck and squeezed. But instead of smashing my skull into the pavement, he said, "Stop worrying." But I couldn't help it. I'd never picked up such a stud before. Not that I was ugly. But I looked a lot like that kid who plays Harry Potter in the movies. Enough that some arse at work started calling me Potter, and the name stuck. It didn't help that I'd worn glasses like his when the first movie came out. So now you see why I might wonder why a porn star voiced, rugby-built looker would be courting me home. I didn't even know his name. Didn't much care either.

We got to my place and went inside. I headed toward the kitchen.

"You want something to drink?" I asked, but instead of answering, I heard leather creaking. I turned around and saw that his leather jacket was fitting him tighter and tighter. He reared his shoulders back and I could see his delts swelling bigger. Then the teeth of the jacket's zipper started to rip apart at the top, as his pecs swelled up and out, busting right thru the zipper and exposing his massive, growing chest. He raised his arms into a double bi, and I heard the leather creak again as his big arm peaks stretched the material tight as a drum. Suddenly I heard a ripping sound, as his peaks broke thru the top of his sleeves and ripped apart the leather like paper toweling. Then his forearms ripped thru the leather and swelled out like a rising loaf of bread, except with loads of veins. He tore the shredded sleeves off the jacket and tossed them away. Then he ripped the rest of the zipper apart, exposing his brick abs. His jacked was now like a leather vest that was 4 sizes too small.

"You like that?" he asked, as he strummed his fingers down his bulging 8pak. When I didn't answer, he said, "I thought so. You want a piece of this, Donny?" Even from across the room, I could smell his masculine scent.

"How'd you know my name?"

"I know a lot of things about you. And I could do a lot of things for you. I can get huge, Donny. You like huge, don't you? Right now, I'm 290lbs of shredded muscle. And I can get bigger. You want to touch?" He walked into me and I stumbled backwards until I was pinned against the kitchen counter. I had a strange feeling in my gut, and it wasn't just lust for this hypermasculine alpha beast musclehead.

"What do you want?" I asked him.

"Just your soul," he said.

I tried to push him away, but he didn't budge. His skin was smooth as kid glove leather, covering the rock hard muscle underneath. I let out a groan as I felt his delts ripple under my hands. "Oh yeh, you want it bad, don't you Donny?" he said.

"No," I lied.

He stepped back from me and stood relaxed, the most muscular creature I'd ever seen. "I can make you big, too, Donny. I'll make you big and strong as you want. No more Harry Potter jokes from that bloke at work. In fact, I'll give you advanced martial arts skills so you can teach him a lesson. Imagine being 290lbs and taking him apart in front of all your mates. Believe me, it's a rush."

The temptation was nearly overwhelming. The thought of being immensely powerful and as big as this jacked-up freak in front of me. My heart was pounding with fear and desire. Sensing this desire, he put his hands on his sides and flared out his elbows, making his lat muscles spread out behind them. If I hadn't been leaning against the counter, I would have buckled to the floor. "Watch them swell," he said, his voice deeper than ever, as he flexed his lats even wider. "I'm at 310 now."

"Bloody hell," I stuttered out.

Smirking at the irony of my words, he said, "I can make your wildest dreams come true, Donny. Let me prove it." He walked over to my living room window and put one hand on each side of it. Then his massive mounds of back muscle began to bulge and roll. He made a grunting sound, and ripped the window right out of the wall, casing and all. He put the window down and spread his huge lats again. "They don't call these bat wings for nothing," he said, and then he flew out the window. As I tried to gather my wits, and decide if I should flee my apartment or not, he flew back in, but now he was carrying someone. It was a redheaded bloke with tossled bed-head, shirtless, but in his pj bottoms. He had clearly just been snatched from sleep. Then suddenly it began to dawn on me.....

"You have a thing for Prince Harry, don't you, Donny?" the massive flying beast asked me, as he gripped his powerful hand around the redhead's neck, steadying him. Prince Harry was looking around my flat, trying to wake up and figure out where he was.

"ohmygod...." I stammered. I did have a thing for Harry, it was true. Although not as muscled as I usually like, he had a mischievousness about him that the other Windors lacked. In fact, I'd always rather doubted that he had any Windsor blood in him. Now, here he was standing in my flat, looking rather buff.

"You...have to....take him back!!" I said.

"Oh, come on, Donny. Not before we have a little fun." The muscle demon put his hands on the prince's neck and made it grow. He moved his hands to his traps and made them swell up. Then he did the same to his delts. Then his pecs. The prince was fully awake now, wincing in pain as his muscles grew, and struggling to get away, but was powerless against the rough muscular hands that were morphing him into a bodybuilder. The demon ran his hands down Harry's lovely buff abs, and turned them into hard rippling bricks of muscle. Then he cupped the prince's ass, causing his glutes to swell till his pj's were stretched tight over them. He rubbed Harry's legs till his quads tore thru the pajama fabric like it was tissue. By the time he was done, Prince Harry was as big as Paco Bautista. Massive, thick solid beef covered him. The prince was looking down at himself in total confusion, turning his head back and forth on his new 24" bull neck. He clenched one fist and watched as his 18" forearm bunched up, thick and gnarly with cords of hard muscle. He moved one leg out in front of him. Even unflexed, his quads had to be 34" around and snaking with vines. He clenched his leg and the muscle hardened like stone as striations popped out all over. He looked up at me and an impish grin grew on his face.

"See, he quite likes it," said the musclebeast next to him. "You can have him if you want." He went to shove Harry towards me, but Harry didn't move. Instead, he turned to face the big demon and then boxed his ears, hard. The beast stumbled back, his face darkening and his features shifting from ruggedly handsome to gargoyle hideousness. He hissed at the prince.

"Don't hiss at me," snapped Harry. "I'll banish you from my kingdom." With that, he grabbed the freak muscle demon in a bearhug. Harry's huge arms bulge with power, and he lifted demon off the ground. The beast roared so loudly, I had to cover my ears. But then Harry squeezed him so tightly, I heard the air forced out of the beast's lungs. The room reeked of sulfur. He tried again to roar, but no sound came out. He arched back hard, his huge muscles rippling and swelling, and I could see Harry's grip loosen. Horns began to sprout out of the beast's forehead. Harry squeezed harder, his face smashing up against the massive beast's solid pec slabs. "I banish you," he grunted out, his face ruddy with exertion, his muscle growing and growing. He ran into my living room wall, smashing the beast right thru it. I put up my arms to block the flying plaster and lath from hitting my face. The two hulking brutes landed on my bathroom floor. I ran to the door and looked in. Harry was on top of the beast, pinning him to the tile floor. The prince looked bigger than ever, quite like a redheaded Dennis Wolf, while the demon seemed to be diminishing in size.

"Hose him down," Harry said to me. I hesitated for a moment, but saw him nodding toward my shower stall. I grabbed the wand off the wall, turned on the water, and sprayed it at the demon. Harry held him pinned to the floor and as the water hit him, he didn't melt so much as he turned to ash and just disappeared. I went to turn the water off, but Harry said, "Wait....hose me off first." I turned the spray on him, and the water beaded up and ran down his enormous torso. As his shredded pj bottoms got wet, I could see his royal scepter flopping around inside. I turned the water off and stared at the massiveness of him.

"Well, that felt good," he said. "And I do believe I'm still growing." He was, too. His head was nearly hitting the top of my bathroom ceiling, which was 7 feet high. Now he looked like Dennis Wolf's much bigger and more extremely muscled brother. He raised his arms and flexed. "Look at these puppies," he said, as his biceps peaks swelled to 29 inches.

"How did you.....?" I asked, nodding at the puddle of wet ash running across the floor.

"They teach us such things in prince school," he said with a smirk, "so that normal folk like you don't have to worry about such things." He reached out and grabbed my jaw with his big hand. "You're quite the looker, aren't you," he said. My heart almost exploded as the 450lbs musclebound prince looked me over. "I feel like shagging. This place have a bedroom?" I raised my arm and pointed down the hallway, but if Harry hadn't been holding my jaw, my knees would have buckled from under me.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, and put his free hand under my arm pit and lifted me up, throwing me over his shoulder. He had to turn sideways and duck his head to fit thru the doorway. I put my hands on his thickly mounded, granite hard back muscle, and watched as his over-swollen glutes rolled as he walked me to my bedroom.