By the end of that week, his need for sexual stimulation had grown constantly, relentlessly, until he found himself, even sitting around watching TV, or eating dinner, absent mindedly touching himself, feeling his hair, his muscles, the size of his genitals, and inevitably jacking off. Jacking off became a casual and almost constant thing. He began to grow more comfortable as a sexual creature freely expressing his intensely sexual nature. There was no denying it was pleasurable, and even seeing the pleasure his dad got watching him, constantly increased his own enjoyment. His drive, his need was insatiable, and that nasty, dirty boy became easier and easier to let loose. By the time his dad took him for his second weekly injection, he was actually beginning to enjoy himself immensely. At least the nasty boy was.

Chris was surprised and embarrassed when his dad had him dress in one of the bikini trunks to go to the center. He had tried a couple on, at his dad's insistence, and a few times he had worn one of the jock straps, because his dad wanted to see him in them. He had felt both embarrassed and sexy. But wearing one of those tiny, skimpy bikinis out in public was just embarrassing. Still, he felt sexy in front of the mirror when he got into it. He was getting bigger down there, and it showed, and so did all the new hair he had grown all over his groin. Driving in the car, even though he knew he was looking good now, for a sixteen year old kid, he thought he would die when he had to get out and walk to the building in front of people who would, without doubt, stare at him. But when they arrived, it wasn't as bad as he thought. There were several other guys going in and out, wearing the same thing, and they were a lot bigger and exposing a lot more than he was. And he realized, despite what he thought, something inside him found those guys extremely cool, parading their muscles and masculinity that way, so open about it, so casual, even blatant. It made him feel a little more confident about himself, boyish as he still was by comparison.

In the office, while he was being measured and photographed, he found himself enjoying the attention. The shot that got him stoned and would relieve the pain of the other shots felt good. The doctor showed him photos of himself last week so he could see his own progress. Something deep in him was turned on by it, even while he was shocked to see so much change so quickly. Before he had looked like a sixteen year old boy. Now he looked like a mature college guy maybe, with a grown up body, a mature, muscular shape, and the whiskers and pits and pubes of a fully mature guy. The hair on his arms and legs looked hot, and the way his pubes spread out and framed his dick and balls. And, man oh man, did they look like the dick and balls of a grown up guy--a hung grown up guy. A well-hung grown up guy. Yeah, this was weird, freaky, strange, but he had to admit it felt pretty fucking hot. So hot, he found himself spreading his legs as soon as he saw the syringe and heard that nasty boy telling the doctor to shoot him up good, yeah, fill his balls up with that stuff, yeah, give it to him good.

All the way home he could feel it in his balls, he could feel it pumping those hormones, making him hornier than ever, knowing how it would make him grow. It seemed to intensify all those feelings about his body, his sexuality, even the hair growing on him. His balls felt so swollen in his bikini, making that bulge bigger still than it was on the way there, but it felt hot to him, having big nuts making a big bulge. He caught his dad looking several times, but he just let his legs hang apart so he could enjoy it along with his dad. He kept running his hands over his body, feeling his pecs, his arms, the ridges he was getting down his stomach. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"Getting into it more this time, I see," his dad said. "Maybe being turned into an Olympus Man won't be so bad, huh?" Fuck, Chris thought when his dad said that. Turning into an Olympus Man. Whoa. The reality hit hard. It was happening to him, little by little, but no doubt about it. The pictures of those guys, the pictures he'd seen, the ones he'd just seen at the center, jumped into his head. He was being turned into one of them. Those special bikinis they always wore to hold their giant packages, their absurdly huge, massive muscles, the hair they had all over their chests and abs. Was he really going to get like that? When would he start to get hair on his chest? As his mind raced, his cock grew instantly hard, and the nasty boy took over.

"Maybe not," he said as his dick popped out the top of his bikini. "I know you like it. You like seeing me grow, don't ya? You want to see your boy all huge and hairy, don't ya? Fuck, you already got my balls growing and you got me all hairy down there. You like that, Dad? You like my hairy crotch? You want to watch me jack off right here in the car, don't ya? Fuck, dad, I gotta jack it. Watch me jack my big dick for ya."

And the nasty boy stroked his cock and felt his pecs and abs until his hips bucked and his toes curled and he felt orgasm everywhere in his body. And when it came, he leaned back and let it come, strong and hot.

"Oh yeah, oh fuck, Dad, oh yeah, it's fucking hot, Dad. Yeah, so fucking hot. Gonna be an Olympus Man. Fuck, Dad, fuck. Fucking huge, hairy sex boy, dad."

"Yeah," his dad said, "Get into it, kid. Making you into a huge fucking sex boy. Fuck yeah. Chris Olympus, muscle god." "Aww, fuck, Dad. Chris fucking Olympus, fucking muscle god. Let's get home, dad. I gotta get naked, man. I gotta jack. Fuck, I'm so horny. I gotta jack again."

"Yeah, I'll get ya home. You can jack that hot dick all you want.

Maybe you're even ready now for some real fun." "Yeah? Like what?"

"Oh, like maybe showing some of my friends what that formula is doing to you. They've been asking when they could come over and see you."

"You mean you want to show me off, Dad?" "Damn right, I want you to show off, Chris. Think you're into it?

Think you can let them see what a stud you're turning into?" "I guess if that's what you want, there's not much I can do about it, huh?"

All of a sudden, the nasty boy went into retreat, and the old Chris was back. How totally weird he felt, sitting in the car, riding with his dad, wearing nothing but the skimpiest little bikini trunks. He looked at himself and saw how he was changing, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. The bikini he was wearing was stuffed so full with his balls, so tender and sensitive and full of that formula, and it was going to get more and more ridiculously full. His dick would grow, until it was like some of those stuffed sausages he'd seen on the guys at the center. Jesus, what would that be like? And where was all this hair coming from? He looked down at the hair spreading out from under his bikini, exposed pubic hair, groin hair, belly hair, his legs were so fucking hairy. And his muscles were already growing.

Okay, the washboard stomach was cool. But the way his back was getting so wide that he felt it crowding under his arms. The way his pecs were starting to stick out, and his arms getting real muscles, and his legs. They weren't just hairy, they were hairy and thick, and hard, so he had to push them together. And they were doing all this to him just to make him some kind of sex machine. Fuck, he thought. Fuck. There wasn't anything he could do about anymore. He would never be a regular sixteen year old kid again. Even now, he could feel this new dose in his balls. It was stronger than the last time. He remembered telling the doctor to give it to him good. Jesus. What was wrong with him? What were those feeling he kept getting, those nasty, dirty feelings, that nasty boy that kept taking over his head? But he knew that was part of the formula, too.

And there wasn't a fucking thing he could do to stop it. He could feel it so strong in his groin, pumping his hormones, slamming his body with hormones, spilling into his blood, into his cells, his muscles, his bones. Christ. Even now it was making him change, even riding in the car it was in him, so strong, making him change, and he couldn't stop it. It was too strong. Fuck, it was so strong. When they got home, his dad parked in front of the house. The neighbor from across the street was out front working in his yard, and

Chris knew his dad had parked there just so he would have to get out and walk by the neighbor in his little bikini. Fuck. He didn't want his dick to be hard, at least. Then he realized that as soon as he thought that, it got soft.

The neighbor was a friend of his dad's, or at least they had become friends. Chris knew the guy was gay, or would do it with anybody that offered a hot time, and he knew that his dad had been one of those people. He was younger than Chris' dad, probably about twenty five, one of those many extremely good looking guys in Hollywood trying to break into television or movies. Just like all of them, he had the hair, the face, the charm, and the very-worked-on body. Just now, he was out front in a pair of cotton Lycra shorts and high-top tennis shoes, and nothing else.

When they pulled up, Chris' dad got out and yelled across, "Hey,

Larry, how's it goin'?"

"Hey, Kyle. Fine. How `bout you?"

Chris sat in the car thinking he would give anything if he didn't have to get out, stand up in front of this guy, wearing this ridiculous little suit. But just as fast, he felt other thoughts racing into his head. This guy was hot looking. Knew it, too, wearing those shorts that showed his cock and balls. Looked pretty nice, too. Great butt.

Muscular. Nice and muscular. Little bit of hair on his pecs and belly button looked hot, too. Bet if he's into muscles, he'd be into mine.

"Hey Larry," Chris heard his dad say, "Come `ere a minute. You know my son, Chris. Did I tell you I was putting him through the Olympus Men program? One week now, just got his second treatment. Come over here and take a look at him."

"Yeah," Larry said, setting down his tools, "I think you did mention it." He started across the street. "So you're really doing it to him, huh? Wow."

"Chris, get out, let Larry take a look at ya." Chris found himself opening the door and getting out, not feeling shy or embarrassed. Whatever it was that was flooding his body was flooding his brain, and he could feel the nasty boy jumping in. If this guy thinks he's into showing off in those shorts, let him get a load of this. He stepped forward, totally aware of being dressed only in those tiny trunks, bulging so big and heavy he could feel it, the trunks so tiny they showed his butt and his pubes. He knew how muscular he'd gotten now more than ever, because he looked at Larry's muscular body and realized Larry wasn't much bigger than he was. Yeah, he knew Larry would like this.

"Hey Larry," he said, putting out his hand to shake. Shit, even his voice was deeper.

"Chris?" Larry was totally surprised. "This is Chris? Holy shit.

One week?"

Chris just grinned. Let this guy take it in, get a good look. "Yep," Chris' dad said, "One week. Whatta ya think?"

Larry's eyes scanned Chris, head to toe. "Unbelievable," he said, "Fucking unbelievable. I mean, I've seen those guys, pictures and stuff, but I never saw anyone going through it, anyone I know. Jesus, man, look at you." Now he scanned Chris' body again, but more slowly, taking in the details. "How do you feel?"

"Sometimes a little weird, you know, but pretty cool, I guess."

"Jesus, I would think so," Larry's eyes paused on Chris' pecs, then scanned down his abs, pausing again at Chris' newly hairy bulging groin.

"I know I would."

Both Chris and his dad saw an immediate reaction in Larry's shorts.

Larry felt it and saw them look.

"What do you say, Chris?" Kyle said.

Chris knew he should say thanks for the compliment, but the nasty boy completely jumped in, and he loved seeing the rise he was causing in this gorgeous actor's shorts. It excited him. Yeah, He liked that reaction a lot. He could feel his own dick reacting, and that was just fine, too. And he heard his voice, his deeper, so masculine voice, answer.

"Well," he said, "I say it looks to me like Larry could use a break.

Maybe a beer? Why don't you ask him in, Dad?" •