Dungeons & Dragons

By F.R.Eaky

Okay, here comes another one of my epic novels. lol Hope ya enjoy. - Frank

"……..And so the fire fey turns upon you and breathes his breath of fire. He rolls to hit, you roll to dodge." Craig picked up his dice and rolled an 18…"plus two on strikes so they strike with a 20." Craig glances across the table to James, one of the young men he's D.M.-ing for at Oracle's Portico a role playing, card, and comic shop. Eyes, meeting the other boy with a semi-cold steeliness one would think it was him trying to prove himself to the other older boy, but that was not the case. James was 15 5'10" and packing on baby fat like there was no tomorrow, thick mane of jet black hair, dark knit eyebrows shading large, expressive and deep brown puppy eyes. A tan covered his body most of the time, even darker in appearance if it was summer. However, not a bit of fur on the boy yet…maybe the start of some peach fuzz. This boy was just beginning his adolescence and when all was said and done he would be one good looking marvel that was for sure, even if he didn't work out, which was pretty obvious he wouldn't as he was part of the gaming crowd. Craig on the other hand was the adult, 26 to be exact, but looked more like a child. Shaving came….well, twice maybe three times a week. His beard just didn't grow and when it did the one to two day stubble didn't show, as it was so small and blond that no one noticed. Sparkling blue eyes, looking still wide eyed like a child's in Craig's head peered out to view the world and greeted everyone with the child like grin and chin when people came into the store. Always trying to make sure he could command the attention due him as an adult, Craig sat his 5'2" frame very straight and, uhm, tall so to speak and puffed out his ever so thin, 90 lb pasty white body that was topped off with wispy, thin, feathery, blond hair. Yes, to those new to the store, it would look like a 12-year-old was running an adventure and telling the 17-18 year olds what to do. 2 years ago, after Craig had graduated with a degree in Multimedia-Webdesign and Graphic Arts, he found the field flooded with young people with that degree and the economy down and giving up jobs. Searching everywhere, he finally landed a job in the middle of nowhere Michigan, or close to it but not so far from Detroit. All his time playing D&D and Magic, crafting, and painting miniatures as a hobby paid off. The owners of this store, decided they wanted to spend their evenings at home and needed someone to watch the store in the evenings and on weekends while the local teen-agers and college kids came to play. Craig was their man. He knew everything and could help them design ads, fliers, coupons, and tournament posters… So they hired him and decided that he would be a decent asset so they even gave him decent pay of nine bucks an hour. This wasn't the career Craig wanted, but it was cool. James looks up after rolling his die. "Fifteen, no pluses." "They hit" The room hears the drop of dice. "And you take 7 points of damage." "Fuck man, no fair! I'm completely dead….man you rot as a DM this adventure is ass!" "Excuse me! Number one, calm down you just unconscious and comatose your not dead yet. What's your endurance?" "Twenty…." "Then you've got twenty melees before your dead and even if you wind up as such, think about it. You have two priests and one psi-healer in your party you wouldn't be dead for long. And might I remind you, in real life you've got fifty cents to drop in the mouth bucket over there." "Oh common!" "Come on nothing. We've got kids playing over here and they don't need to hear people cursing. I made the mouth bucket up. You cuss, you donate and the donations give us snack food for the adventures. You don't like it, I can do like they did before, your membership here is gone, you're outta the adventure, pack up your dice and leave." Craig stared sternly at James who looked at the others sitting at the table with him, then bowing his head apologized and went to place fifty cents into the mouth bucket. "Thank you. Now the initiative count down continues. The fairies, or this lil' guy here who was the last of them, went on 7, 6? ….5…..4…….3" "Oooh that's me!" Shouted Ken and 6'1", lanky, freckle face, 19-year-old red head. "I've got my sword out so I take a swipe at the fairy. And….I rolled a twenty!" "Niiice, natural hit, possible critical…..I could still possibly save" Laughter erupted from the table. "And noooooooooooo. Of course not, that was long shot. I dodge with an eight. Ugh…oooh….ya got me! Ahh" "18 damage!" "Yeah….. he's gone. The fairies are littered all over the floor, whaddya guys do?" "I'm gonna go heal James' character." Said Carol, a priestess. "Picking up the fairies and pluckin' their wings off." Heralded Aaron a summoner. Sean looks over the table "Alright you all do that, and that ends this evenings session guys it's 9:30." A collective "awww" comes from the group. "Now, some of you guys are still in High School and parents want you home by ten on a school night and com'on, ya practically live here on the week-ends. Shop opens 12 noon – 4 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays." "Hey Craig…. I was just wondering, when are you ever gonna use your special dice?" All eyes in the store turn to look to a small display set behind and above the counter. A pedestal and rounded backboard covered in black velvet with spotlights shining down on it hold a tube of beautiful glistening dice. The dice look like they're made of diamonds and the spots indicating the numbers are made of precious stones set into the "cubes." Craig had received these in one of his shipments for the store. They came with his name on them, but he knew he hadn't ordered them. Placing them on display, he waited for the person who ordered them to come forward, but no one ever did. Glancing through the catalogs, Craig never found an item like them listed for purchase. The owners of the shop proclaimed them Craig's as it came with his name on them, but Craig displayed them hoping to find the owner and an answer. He was soon thinking of having them analyzed though to determine their material, at some point. "I don't know. I've been waiting to see whom they belong to. But it's been about a year now… So I guess…ya know what I think I will. Next week when the BIG tournament starts, I'll use those dice when I assist everyone in creating their character." The sound of air being sucked in, followed by oohs and ahhs filled the store. "Alright, alright." Craig said laughingly, they just look fancy, doesn't mean they'll grant you anything. Everyone got their stuff? Okay, let's go..oh! and all of you be careful, we've got those hooligans running around and we don't want them hurting you. Go home in a pack!" Shutting the door and locking it, Craig turned off the lights in the front and walked into a nightmare adventure he would never have planned for any of the regular players at the store. "Be careful. Go home in a pack. We don't want those hooligans hurting you." Said a young man jumping from a sitting position off a display case and flopping a comic book down. "Well, don worry lil' boy. We won't hurt them. We're here!" Turning around Craig hoped to make it to the front door but he stopped cold as he saw one of the gang already there. "And whadda shame… you already locked it." "Whadda want Clint?" Grabbing Craig and slamming him into a chair, the leader of the bullies announced, "I want to play a fucking adventure with you!" Mock oohs and ahhs escaped from the gang members' mouths. "Oh no! I guess I need to walk over to the mouth box don't I? But ya know what I think I'm gonna TAKE fifty cents for everytime I cuss instead of donating. Ha ha ha ha. "Awww shit! I'm just gonna take all the money anyway! "But ya know… we're here to play with you tonight. We're gonna bring your wildest dreams to reality!" Glaring up at the big big man Craig sternly and quietly asked "And what do you mean by that?" "Ah cut the shit you homofuck! I remember you from High School. How the hell did you end up here in nowhere where I'm at is unbelievable. Course then again I don't even know how I got here. BUT IT SUCKS MAN!" and Clint slammed his fists onto the table right in front of Craig. "I remember you watching me all the time in High School. Drooling lil' fuck! And then you move out here where I landed, and don't think I haven't seen you in the gym. Yeah… the gym… you got a membership there tryin to build yourself up. Starin' at all of us, just hopin' and prayin' that you could be us. "Oh…and then there's the lust in yer eyes…. Yeah, don look away… I see it in you, you fuckin pervert… ya want us. Ya want to fuck us! Ya want to plant yerself if our asses, you strange, weird, peverted, sick, twisted FUCK!

Craig glanced down trying to hide, not the shame, but the fear in his eyes. There were seven guys in here now, all MUCH taller, stronger, faster, than him and he knew, they could kill. Clint, however was right. Back in high school, especially by Senior year, Craig couldn't begin to count the number of times he wished he looked like or could take Clinton. Clinton… a 6'5" frame stacked with bricks upon bricks of muscle…about 220 lbs. back then. Since high school, Clint's put more solid mass on, `bout near bodybuilder size. He has a chiseled jaw, dimpled chin, thick brown hair, deep green eyes, and if memory served Craig he knew Clint was amply hung, probably a ten incher. Strong, looks, agile, business major gonna make a big name of himself, why wouldn't Craig like to be him or his size. "Hey, fuck nut, quite daydreamin and fantasizing about me!" Oh, yeah…. His attitude and charming personality. That's why he wouldn't want to be or have Clint.

Click. Clint just set something down in front of Craig. It was the special dice. Once of his buddy's placed some books down across the table from Craig where Clint sat down. Taking off his leather jacket, Clint pop flexed his arms and pecs through a ribbed muscle t-shirt. Looking up at Craig he announced, "Yeah, take a good look and imagine. You're gonna get your wish tonight as we play some D&D…." "Look Clint, I'm not in the mood and…" "YOUR GONNA PLAY SOME DAMNED D&D BECAUSE I SAY SO!" Bellowed Clint as he slammed his palms down on the table making the books and dice bounce. "I'm gonna read the tale and your gonna role, cause I don know the dice system thingy, yet. But don worry about the adventure Craigy, you're gonna love it. I've been studying the books." One of the gang members popped open the tube of special dice and lightly rolled them out of the tube in front of Craig.

"You, are a knight. Yeah a nice big handsome knight. A regular at the Kings table, and the ladies beds. Yeah… ya know what I mean. You've been out on a quest and you came across a keep where you unleashed a small force of about sixty men all men at arms like yourself, and they're chasing after you. "You come upon a temple and there seems to be a door, but it's not opening. Whaddya do?" Craig sat there motionless, looking down at the table. Grabbing his arm and twisting it back to nearly breaking point, a member growls in Craig's ear, "Answer him!" "I!…….I…I search for secret doors or compartments." "Very good, I think you have to roll for that don't you?" Fearing another arm wrenching, Craig picked up the percentile die of the special die and rolled. "I…I make it…." "GOOD! Gooooood….. so you make it in there seems to be a long tunnel. You walk about halfway down and you hear a large rumbling noise. The entranceway has crumbled and caved in on itself. You're blocked in!"

From the front of the hall, a large rumbling noise could be heard. Clint looked up to one of his henchmen, "What was that?" Craig answered, "Nothing. Probably the garbage truck. It makes rounds this late at night." "Course! On with the story then. Knowing your way in and out is now blocked you head down the hallway and come upon a large central room filled with various statues of multiple gods. "While your standing there looking a booming voice echoes throughout the chamber….'Craigeth…noble knight that you art. Thouest art-eth out numbered seventy to one, but since you are so grand of heart, pure of loin, well, ya'd have-eth to be with that dick!, and such a small stature of man, we will grant upon you gifts.' "Oh, but what gifts do the gods bestow? Are they permament? Roll the die let's see if they are?" Meekly Craig rolls the die again. "Yes……" "Oh-ho! So these spells and things are runic. That's the right term isn't it for something that's everlasting, spell wise? So they begin to cast runic stuff on you. As I cast you roll your save vs. magic and see if it sticks to ya. "Spell one… you'll need to be in general just bigger than them because they are an army of seventy right? And so god one zaps you with SIZE OF THE BU-HE-MOTHS…." "Behemoth…." "That's what I said, size of the BOHEMOTH! ROLL!" Plop. "Failed, it affects me." "Yeah an so now ya grow to be a fifteen foot tall mother fucker. Isn't that cool? Isn't that what you've wanted to be way taller and bigger than any of us? Sick lil' monkey. But height alone isn't gonna get it. Two other gods know ya gotta be strong and so they zap you with STRENGTH OF UTGAR LOKI, but that's just strength, ya need to look the part to so the other one zaps with SIZE OF HERCULES! Plop, plop. "Failed and Failed again both affect me…." As Craig sighs loudly. "Oh, but perhaps there's away you could get away from the bloodshed? Maybe you could charm your way outta the fight. And so another god bestows upon you THE FACE OF ADONIS followed by THE LURE OF APHRODITE, and yet another god comes up and grants to you THE SCENT OF ATTRACTION! Oooh won't this be what you've always dreamed of? Your huge.. tall, beyond a bodybuilder in size and strength, most handsome face in the world and have a scent that helps you further to attract all…." The group laughs hysterically as Craig just sits there staring at Clint with smoldering eyes that would burn through the soul if they could. Another member wrings the wrist of Craig again. Wincing in pain, Craig grabs the dice and rolls….plop, plop, plop "Failed….Failed…..Failed……" "Whoo-hoo see what a big fucker you've become! But wait….speaking of fucking…. The gods know that number one you must have manly equipment to go with your new size. They also know that in ages past – and in the future (Clint shoots Craig a purely evil look) that too many many could outnumber one, even a giant, and once down, the army will take their turns raping the victim till he's dead!" Craig, looked up in horror, swallowed hard, and broke out into a sweat on his forehead and down his back….. "And so, good knight the goods bestow upon you THE SIZE OF PHALLUS! This isn't of course to be out done by a smaller spell meant to protect you good knight, while you fight for your life, from the army around you. God…what is it now? Eight? Anyway he grants you….Can I create my own spell? Will this spell be allowed? Roll for it would ya Craigy my lil' boy?" Plop…..another sigh fleetingly leaves Craig's lips…."Yes the spell is accepted into the game…." Standing up victoriously, Clint announces: "THE STRENGTH SUCKING SCHLONG OF JOHN THOMPSON THE SPHINTER SNAKE! This spell my boy, if the army decides to rape you, or even you them – HA!, if your prick touches them will sap the size and strength of their muscles, giving it to you, making you an ever bigger, stronger, more powerful muscle head than anyone else in the world! "So there ya are my boy. Did you like the adventure? Your now the biggest size queen in the world. We're like bugs to you. Isn't that what you've always wanted? Did it thrill you? Did it make you cum?" Clint pulled back the chair that Craig was sitting in and looked at the crotch of Craig's pants. "Nothing. Oh well…. This is a role playing game I can imagine right?" And pouring himself a glass of water, he promptly pours it over Craig's jeans. "Okay, lil' man. You sit tight. We're gonna go raid the office and toady's cash and receipts. Ha ha ha ha." The gang turns and walks away.

Craig sitting alone, puts his arms out on the table, surrounding the dice. His head gets craddled in his arms, and he begins to cry. Unknown to him, as he cries, the dice begin to glow brighter and brighter until suddenly they shoot out a beam of pure light that strikes Craig in the head, knocking him into a sitting up position in his chair and then sends another bolt to his crotch. Sitting wide eyed and terrified, Craig begins to feel very warm. Sweat breaks forth from his body: across his brow, down his neck, past his back, across his chest, soaking his shirt. His skin becomes that somewhat dark but light red people with a fever develop. Moaning, faint but there escapes his lips, and Craig begins to tremble very very slightly but oh so fast.

Clint and the gang return and look at Craig. "What the fuck's wrong with you, pussy?" asked Clint indignantly. With a nodding command two members grab Craig and throw him into the next part of the store, a large opened area, warehouse tall, that has the façade of a few city blocks on it for L.A.R.P. games. Craig lands on his butt, legs sprawled out in front of him, torso erect. Clint begins to say, "Yeah, this looks like a good place to do him and then suck his life away." But then Craig lets out a moaning yelp and all look at him not too sure of what's going on until the begin to notice his shoes… His shoes, sticking up from the ground, have begun to grow. No one is quite sure if it's real or not as they watch the shoes stretch up and up. Pushing out past the soles and now starting to kind of ooze down around them, the sides of the shoes or rather it's fabric is pushed wider and wider, further and further apart. One of the gang members, one who's about 6'2" walks over saying "Jesus" and lies down and puts his foot up to compare. They are the same size. But over the cries of Craig, slamming his hands in pain on the floor mats, are heard the sounds of fabric ripping, or is it more like the sound of little threads snapping and the shoes become longer and longer, wider and wider still. This time however, they begin to see the holes forming from the sides and the feet peeking through. The fabric is now molded in the shape of feet, and it is extended on all sides past the soles. The pops and rips continue as the feet get bigger and bigger dwarfing the 6'2" guy's feet. The shoes break free and roll sideways to the floor as the feet continue to stretch, pop and grow the toes able to curl down and over the gang member's shoe. "What the hell is going on!" Roars Clint unable to believe the sight he is now observing. Obviously, he failed his roll again awe/horror factor. A loud whistle is heard followed by "look at the size of those dogs!" As Craig's feet slowly stop their growth perhaps slightly larger than 3 times the size of the curious gang member's feet and his shoe is only the length of Craig's heel.

"What is this shit!" Clint yells to Craig. But Craig is lost in some type of euphoric state, staring at his feet, and has begun to wiggle his massive toes. "And you there, the hell do you think you're doing, pulling your pants off?" "But, Clint, I'm not pulling my pants off?" ""Well it looks like their slipping off too…me…." Curiosity killed the cat. In this case it'll squash the gang member. The man comparing feet felt his pants slid down to his butt and then further down….. still more…and again… until his waist band was now at his thighs. He had no idea what was going on, but the others did. Craig's legs were lengthening and pushing him across the mat, backwards. Craig, tears in his eyes for sometimes he was in pain, and other times he felt tickled, that inner tickle like when one strikes his funny bone or kind of pulls something and ya feel it from crotch to lower lip… Staring down at his monstrous feet, Craig watched as the moved farther away from him…and farther still…they moved again. Craig could feel the cool breeze of air as it caressed his ankles while they moved out of the hem of his jean's legs. Further they moved further and further. The legs swelling slightly larger. Still very skinny but matching the size of feet. The ankles filling in, Craig was happy as he could begin to bend, flex, his ankles and feet. But those feet moved away from him more…. And more…. The calves now halfway through the hems and the legs beginning to push out and cling to them a bit.

Not watching his surroundings, paying more attention to his pants, the comparative cretin, was getting pushed further and further along the mat. Fumbling hands reached for the waistband of his jeans as his legs and butt shook trying to rise up, so the jeans could be pulled up. But this wouldn't happen as he kept staring at the enormous feet that moved closer and closer to him, pushing him out of their way. Finally feeling his back against a wall, the man pushed his feet against Craig's and hoisted himself up, pulling his pants up in the process, thinking he could be relieved. Unfortunately, as he was standing up, the feet continued to push in and the hood found himself trapped between the wall and Craig's feet. A cry of help and some breathless moments later (Craig's feet beginning to crush him), the guy was pulled out of the rock and a hard place to safety. In the mean time, Craig's legs had grown so long that the hem of his pants legs were now about a fourth of the way up his thigh. They had begun to split ever so slightly as the thighs were much thicker than Craig's calves or thighs had ever been. Craig's waist and pelvic bone had started to grow too, to accommodate the growth of the thighbones and the whole gang struck in awe, jumped when Craig's waist button popped and flew across the room. Now attention was turned to the sleeves and hem of Craig's shirt. Craig's head getting bigger, it started reaching higher and higher to the ceiling. So, the group watched as the torso elongated and stretched, widened, and reached, as the hem of the shirt began to ride up and off the waist, the navel, the abs, the chest, splitting slightly on the sides, yet pulled taught across the very flat and thin chest of Craig. It seemed at least to the shirt, that the chest, which it hung only halfway down, was very thick indeed. The hems of the sleeves felt the same as the shoulder spread themselves wider and wider and farther and farther apart. Craig now had some massively broad shoulders. What these babies were going to do when muscle came in was beyond comprehension. Craig looked nearly three-fourths as broad as his was tall. The sleeves split and lying on the tops of his shoulders. The shoulders in turn connecting the arms that grew and reached, and stretched, elongated, along with the hands. Hands that grew and grew in such fashion that as Craig continued, the gang members placed a basketball in his hand and watched as he could not hold it, hold it, hold it well, palm it, encompass it, hold it almost like a pea between thumb and forefinger.

As Craig moaned a bit and placed his head down, now lying across the whole of the warehouse floor, Clint ordered the men to fall back and head to the front and back doors. Much to their dismay, they discovered tons of stone rubble in the way of the doors and windows… they were not going to get out. While pacing the floor, one of the men called out to Clint to come look and the sight before them when they returned to the L.A.R.P. area made them cringe even more.

Gathered around Craig's feet, they began to see his legs somewhat rising off the floor. No he wasn't raising them from his hips they were raising in the middle. Slowly but surely, the gang began to notice certain areas of Craig's legs pulsing, almost breathing like. In….out…in….out…. But there was something strange about this breathing. In…. and the legs were swelling out further… out but they stayed where they were at…. In ….they swelled MORE… larger….thicker… but this wasn't fat or a simple filling out…Craig, was getting built. The calves inhaled and stayed puffed… they become hard…thick… a nice round ball….a strong tear drop shape….a thick diamond…..a solid block….a thick veiny pulsing heart! And this throbbing mass of muscle sent out little chords down the back of Craig's knee and attached themselves to the thigh which began to breathe in….and out…..in……and out…… As the calves grew out and out, rising Craig's shin off the floor, the thigh and but muscles began to do the same, rising, pushing the legs and hips up off the floor, mounding thicker higher, so that standing there, one could almost look straight through a space between the shin and floor, knees floor, back and floor. The back of the thigh kept swelling and filling, raiding the legs up further off the floor, and pulling, it seemed, the chords behind the kneed tighter, harder, till they bulged nearly as bad as the muscles. Just when the gang nearly couldn't see over the tops of the legs, the thigh continued to develop first one tear drop shape on top, then the other swelling and swelling, mounding until the men were pretty sure if they stood next to it, the legs were thicker, taller than them standing. By this time, what was left of the jeans had splits in pieces, the backside falling to the floor, the front clinging to Craig's crotch as if that would help. Continuing the show, Craig's abs began to roll as if he were trying to do "The worm" from old dances, and soon crevices began to appear. These were followed by little bricks, that became large cobblestones, that turned into enormous granite slabs. It appeared for a while that all action stopped but suddenly the arms rolled over and kind of lurched towards the gang members. Father and Farther to the side they went being pushed further and further out by the lats, back and shoulders the bunched and grew and spread, and grew, and bunched, and spread, raising the rest of the torso and head a bit so that now one could see through and under the small of the back and the neck. Craig began to breathe harder and harder, one hand began to rub his chest a bit as the gang glanced on while Craig's chest began to mound up further and further thicker and thicker, higher and higher. The gang could see the fold in the center of Craig's chest develop knowing that the crevice was forming there. They watched as the tits began to move their way down….down….down…. and more and more to the side….and then still ride up and up further off the torso, proving, showing a chest so wide and thick those nips stood out from a front view wider than the waist did. Next the shoulders blew up… thicker and thicker, rounder and rounder harder and harder inflating like balloons, At the smallest they started they were cannon ball size… what they were now, was unknown…and so the growth continued. The triceps of each arm now inflated and filled, popped and grew, forming the largest hammocks ever seen for the upper arms to rest upon. The biceps bunched and flexed, swelled and grew…as round as a pumpkin, a tractor tire, an oil tanker car, an earthmover tire! It swelled and bunched and peaked so much, so high, so tall, that the men swore it was a mountain they've climbed. Slowly, Craig began to clinch or flex his fists and as he did so, flex his forearms, which responded by growing, swelling, thickening until they pulsed with power.

As the men stood there in awe thinking that this was the last of this nightmare to them, boon to Craig. Craig began to moan and writhe as if somewhat in pleasure. Although his voice was much bigger now, and a little deeper due to size, it was still a little high. This was soon to change as one by one the gang members back up as they saw Craig's skin turn from red to brown, to olive, to darker tan and then it seemed as if was getting darker still but only in certain places: along the shins, the thighs, the forearms, back of the upper arms, amongst the chest and abs maybe even lower? Craig was now a rich deep tan, but his darker areas gave forth to dark brown hair that covered his leg, arms, chest, and formed a trail down the abs to the thickest bush of pubic hair there could ever be. The whole time Craig, nearly bucking, moaning, as if in ecstasy but each grunt, as the hair came in over his face and throat, getting lower, and lower, and lower, deeper, DEEPer, DEEPER….. The slightest verbal communication sent vibrations, tremors, through people and objects so big and bass the voice. Craig sat up and looked out over the room. Gasping, gangsters watched in awe and Craig's jaw line strengthened, squared and become covered in a two day scruff that looked oh so sexy, a cleft in his chin appearing, but otherwise his features now more adult, more manly. His eyes went up several shades of lightness giving him sparkling, penetrating ice blue eyes, while his hair grew in thicker and longer, forming a beautiful feathery main of hair around his face and down to his back: to eyes in front, shoulders on sides, middle of back in the back. A few more moans escaped Craig's lips and the men saw veins pop up, out, and snake all over the massive thick hands of Craig. These veins slowly, snake like, slithered their way up the forearms, across the biceps, over the shoulders and chest, down the abs, over and across the thighs and under the calves, even working to some just on the tops of the feet. All the veins thick and gorged plugged into the muscles and they began to swell even larger, fuller, harder.

Clint had stopped dead in his tracks. He was an avid fitness buff… he looked and compared Craig's new self. Arms almost as thick as the waist, calves nearly as thick as the arms, the neck and forearms just under the calves. A waist impossibly tight for a muscle monster such as Craig was now. Thighs that were half as much bigger than the waist, and a washboard set of abs that produced an 8 pack. He had seen this before…in the likes of Phil Hernon, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jay Culter, Mike Mattarazzo, Lee Priest, Gary Strydom, Greg Valentino, Dorian Yates, Roland Kickinger, Tom Platz. Clint didn't have time to analyze long, for soon a deep moan came from Craig's throat and he leaned his head back and bucked his hips as if in ecstasy. The little piece of jeans left on Craig's crotch moved slowly but surely forwards, and as it did, he continued in one long, deep moan. When the moan started, one of the gang members froze in his tracks, rolled his eyes, and convulsed. He dropped to the floor, rubbing his hands all over his chest and moaning loudly. A wet spot in his crotch soon confirmed, he'd creamed his pants. The crew in horror, watched as Craig's prick grew out and out and out and thickened becoming not just longer but wider during the one long powerful moan that seemed to push Craig to the edge. When it was done and over, Craig's dick soft and limp was hanging three- fourths the way down his thigh and his balls had swelled, to them, the size of large rubber playground balls, or beach balls. The fabric pushed away, effortlessly, fluttered to the ground in between Craig's legs. As Craig placed his hand to his crotch and began to moan even louder, the men began to run for the doors to get out of the room. They knew what was up next. Almost suddenly, Craig's gigantic shaft inflated to it's full length, placing it about a fourth way down the shin, and Craig was milking it for all it was worth, but without thought or reason, he knew he needed someone to help him. It was every man for himself and all made it to the doorway at the same time, except for Clint. Picking up Clint as he screamed and kicked, Craig peeled off Clint's pants and proceeded to place Clint's but about halfway down his enormous cock head. Clint screamed like there was and until there was no tomorrow. Craig used one hand on his mighty cock to stroke it and stroke it…long, firm, slow, hard. Pulls, annoying, teasing ever last nerve ending in the penis. The Other hand, part was holding onto Clint, while two of the fingers were stroking Clint's man meat. Clint tried to refuse. He tried to think of really awful and cold things… but it was no use. At the same time that Craig let out a deep satisfying roar, Clint shot his load all over Craig's hand. The odd thing was though, Clint felt nothing being shot into him…as a matter of fact, he felt woozy. Almost as if…something was being sucked out of him. And it was then, with horror, Clint remembered his made up spell. Turning his head back he saw Craig lost in glorious rapture as his muscles swelled even bigger and Clint felt his strength wane. When Craig put Clint down on the floor Clint was still 6'5" but now a measly 140 lbs. Clint crumbled to the ground and watched in horror as Craig picked up and fucked and sucked the strength out of the rest of his gang, growing even larger, freakier. Calves that were now as big as the waist, thighs that were twice the size of the waist – EACH!, upper arms that were one and a half the size of the waist, shoulders so large so round so full with a back and lats so thick and wide on the already massive shoulders, he was nearly as wide as he was tall. Craig was a man that made "N's" creations look small.

Coming out of his stupor, Craig stood up, hair brushing the ceiling, looked down upon the gang and announced, "Somehow I don't think this is what you had in mind for tonight." He smiled and with that began to step out with his right leg and flex and shake his thighs, then his calves, he then struck a back double bi pose, followed by a lat spread, a front bi shot, a chest flex, side chest and arms, and into a crab shot. Slowly, gracefully he moved to each pose and as he did so he smiled and moaned. Everytime he hit a pose he moaned even louder. If one doubted he was getting off on it, it was proved true as his flaccid tube of meat once again began to fill, swell, harden and rise. As he posed some of the men got up and stood in front of him, whipping their cocks out of their pants and jacking of to him, until Craig, bucked, stammered a moan, and shot his load all over the gang members.

Clint just stood there covered in jiz and began to cry. Craig, stooped down and said, "Don't worry Clint." He grabbed some of the rubble and cleared it from an outer door. "I'll at least let you go." Placing each gang member outside of the door, he shut it and locked it, and turning back around to the store looked at it and said while flexing his arms. "I guess I had better get to cleaning this up…." •

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