Drug Test


By Also_KnownAs

Mitchell McArthur lay on his back, the huge muscled mass of his upper body resting on the thick, broad shoulders that reached out from his powerful neck. His eyes were closed and his head slowly moved back and forth, his open mouth sucking in deep breaths of cool air. His legs, bent at the knees, rested on the shoulders of another man, bigger even than him, who was shoving his fat prick deeply into Mitch's bowels. He was being fucked hard, and fully, and with authority.

Since he had been changed by whatever the fuck it was that hot doctor shot into his nuts, Mitch had been doing almost nothing but fucking. He'd taken some time off now and again to explore the new physical limitations of his mighty body and found that he could find fairly few up to now. He seemed able to go and go and fucking go! He rarely tired, even after the most strenuous of workouts, and saw and felt his body doing things he thought impossible only days ago.

His strength was way beyond normal, even for a guy his size. He didn't really have any idea before he'd grown how much iron those huge bodybuilder sons of bitches were lifting, but after he visited the gym and threw around hundreds upon hundreds of pounds, he checked online at a few sites and figured he was two or three time stronger than any other man his size.

He didn't question it, he just went with it. His body answered his demands with seeming ease. Oh, sure, there were limitations to his strength. He strained when he was lying on the bench and the bar was bending under the weight of nearly 750 lbs. of steel, but only at first. After three or four pumps, he was suddenly thrusting that bar like he used to do with one not even approaching 200 lbs. He was doing bicep curls with massive dumbbells, the ones way over near the heavy end of the rack, the ones he used to check out and think, `shit, no one actually uses those.'

And the burn of his muscles, the feeling of bulging, massive power, there was just nothing else like it. He couldn't get enough of it. An hour after finishing a set that left him drenched in sweat and heaving for breath, he found himself back in the gym and piling on even more poundage.

But before long, the call of his cock was the only song his body would dance to. No matter how powerful and enormous his workouts made him feel, it was nothing to the power and enormity of his fat cock's hunger.

It wasn't just the constant thrum of desire, of course, that paled in comparison to the surging feeling of sexual gratification it delivered to him when he was engaged in the act of well and truly plowing someone's ass. And with his new body, and his frequent appearances on the gym floor, the selection of prime ass had swerved way, way up on the prime ass scale.

Guys he never considered in his league, beautiful men with broad chests and bright smiles, guys who leaked sex from their pores, guys who defined the word fuck were now after his ass and catching his eye and sharing their ample and amazing assets with him. And he found himself increasingly wanting to be in the position of dominance, the one on top, the guy who gave the orders, short and sharp in his new deep tones, shoving himself deep, deep inside one hot butt after another, seemingly able to keep going for hours at a time, his balls always full and his dick always hard.

And something happened to those guys. Something amazing and considerable. Every last fucking one of them, next time he saw them, were noticeably bigger.

The dicks in their shorts hung lower, bulges larger, drooled at the site of him. Their chests exploded with cables of brawn. Their shoulders spread wider and higher and thicker, and their arms and legs were overwhelmed with new muscle.

Then, today, something else happened. Something changed. Something more amazing than everything before. He felt it, whatever it was, in his balls. Something that tugged and felt good, some warm embrace of sensual release. Someone else wanted him, someone who he could not dominate, and someone he absolutely had to find.

He could feel Stef drawing closer as if he was a freight train. A low, rumbling, powerful approach that he alone could feel – and it felt good. Complete. Utterly perfect.

And now, here, Mitch was in ecstasy. A sexual ecstasy so profound and absolute that he felt nothing else, heard nothing else. The man fucking him knew, perhaps, some portion of the pleasure he was delivering, but Stefan was lost in his own haze, one of masculine dominance and power. He pumped load after heavy, hot, potent load of his seed into Mitch's body, gushing his unending tide of orgasmic cream into this man and feeling him change with every pump.

Mitch's cock, held erect between the two mammoth male forms, was similarly unloading, fountaining thick cream between them, slicking their skin and drenching them in his scent. Mitch's arms were outstretched wide, his hands clenching and unclenching, the cords of muscle overrun with thick veins that pumped hot blood to feed the growth, and if he could have looked at them, he'd have seen the biceps, triceps and extensors building upon themselves, the fibers and cables of power bulging and growing. The lobes of his shoulders were growing fat with muscle, clearly defined under his skin. His cum- soaked chest was inflating like two hard balloons, the nipples being driven lower and lower as the muscle unfurled.

And Stef watched it all happening, and every second of growth made him cum harder, fuck harder, shoving all his unstoppable masculine supremacy into Mitch, watching him become a mirror image of his own still-developing self.

Stefan was a fuck monster, a sex god, something had taken over when he and Mitchell coupled and he felt nothing but power – the power of his cock, the power of his muscles, the still growing power of his being as the drug continued to work on him. His knees dug into the moist, cool earth as he shoved his hugeness into the man beneath him. His grin was vicious and beautiful. Sweat dripped off his mammoth form in streaming rivulets, winding down between the tightly packed muscle, draining through the valleys of his force. He felt himself come again and again, a heavy release of hot cream that gushed from him in abundance. It was constant and unending, and the orgasm shook him from head to toe.

Mitch felt dazed, his mouth slack as his body built itself ever larger. He tasted something on his lips, his own cum, shooting out of him forcefully with every plunge of Stef's cock into his hot and hungry butt. He was being changed, remade, improved, built up into another superman like Stefan, a fuck machine, a sex god.

Their coupling, loud and strong and animalistic, had a far stronger effect than either could realize, lost in their own orgasmic states. Like ripples in a pond, Stef's power over men grew immense when at last he coupled with Mitch. Guys sitting at computers in their dorm rooms were suddenly overcome, sucking in hot air and creaming inside their pants. The library, filled with quiet study, erupted with deep moaning sounds and gasping as every man there felt their bodies overcome with sexual bliss, their dicks inflating and erupting with heavy loads of hot come.

Distance lessened the impact, so that those nearest their hard, deep fucking swooned into a collapse of shuddering, groaning ecstasy. Their dicks and balls were pushed hard and full, becoming erect so fast and so strong that it was painful, their balls exploding a dozen times until they, normal men, were spent.

But not so for the two sex gods. They had no such limits. Their sexual pleasure grew larger and faster than their overly muscled bodies, and they pumped load after load after hot, creamy load.

And Mitchell continued to grow.

The doctor emerged, finally, his body stripped naked, too large now for the clothes he had worn and too proud to care. He was transformed into a vision of male muscular beauty. Heavy, fat bellies of hard power bulged on his frame. His skin was shiny with sweat, his new carpet of dark fur matted in tight curls against his body. He walked into the waiting room of his office leaving Jeff behind, just as Stefan had done with him.

Seann stood up slowly, his pants and shirt a damp mess with his seed, and gawked at the amazing man walking slowly toward him. Dr. Carmichael was smiling broadly. He knew fucking well what he looked like. "Any messages?"

Seann gulped hard and took a minute to figure out that his naked, perfect, powerful boss was joking. He snorted out a laugh and shook his head. "UPS came by," he said, nodding at the little white box. He drank in the view of the man before him, feeling himself, impossibly and for the third time, growing erect with desire.

The doctor now stood at the counter. He was taller as well as broader. His chest was a constructed of two smooth globes of muscle, overlaid with that sweet, dark, soft fur. It climbed out and up and down from there, traversing the man's six pack and then spreading again, a thick mass of darkness above his thick, fat prick. Seann could see only the first couple of inches of the monster, but he thought it was easily nine inches soft. The man's skin was so thin and elastic that every muscle was clearly defined beneath it. Even his navel was fucking sexy.

Rich picked up the box and said, aloud, "Phase Four." He looked into Seann's eyes and grinned. "Think of that, Seann. Stefan was Phase Three."

"Jesus Christ."

"No shit."

"Who gets this one?"

"Remember Jason?"

"Oh, yeah, Holy fuck, that guy was gorgeous. Long eye lashes, tight little bod. A smile that could kill at 30 paces."

The doctor nodded. "I'm very tempted to shoot it into my own balls, but the company was very precise about the consequences of giving it to a guy who did not meet the profile."

"Stef, though. Mitch had already fucked him." Carmichael nodded. "Didn't seem to do him any harm… or you, either."

Carmichael shrugged. "He fit the profile. So did Mitch. There's an exception to every rule, young Seann. You should know that." His eyes fell along Seann's tight body and rested on his shirt pocket. He reached forward and plucked the UPS business card out. "Plans?"

"A few," the redhead admitted. "He's a fucking stud."

"Fred, huh?" Seann nodded. "Hmm." Carmichael tucked the card back in Seann's pocket. "Does that mean you don't have time for a little pre- date fun?" Rich's hand continued its downward arc and landed on his cock. It was growing erect very quickly, the eye already glimmering with precum.

"I'm sure I could fit you into my schedule."

"Good. Get your ass out here. I need someone to fuck."

"Is that an order, doctor?"


Jason Taylor was sitting in the cafeteria when his dick erupted. He could feel it happening, a slow build-up from something as if his asshole was being slowly licked, his nipples slowly tortured, his neck kissed, his balls suckled. It was a tingling, tickling sensation, more of a hint than an actual feeling.

But it grew stronger as he sat there. He was scared, and then he was too turned on to care what was happening or why, and then he felt his ample prick shoving urgently and insistently against his jeans and, suddenly, he was coming.

He pumped a sudden gush that heated his crotch and, before he could feel anything other than satisfaction, he came again. And then again. He sucked in shuddering breaths as he came a dozen times, and fully, filling his shorts to sopping with cream that crawled between his ass cheeks and dripped down his legs.

And somewhere, deep inside him, he felt a tugging. Toward the campus. Toward a tree. Toward his destiny. •

This collection was originally created as a compressed archive for personal offline viewing
and is not intended to be hosted online or presented in any commercial context.

Any webmaster choosing to host or mirror this archive online
does so at their sole discretion.

Archive Version 070326