Spirit of the Matter, The


By Genie

The next morning, I realised that I could not check out since I looked totally different than when I'd checked in. I sneaked out the back of the hotel and into the streets of the city. I had to get away. I had to go afield.

Checking my wallet, I realised I had only 50 pounds to my name. I walked to the local bus terminal and bought a ticket to Brighton. Hopping on the bus, I rode down to the beach.

The summer weather was bright and sunny. I figured that the creature couldn't come after me in public, with all the people on the beach. It would be temporary safety.

Despite this, my balls and dick ached from being crammed into the too-small underwear that constrained them. My first stop was a beach shop that sold an extra-large beach thong that would hold my huge package a lot more comfortably, I thought, with its large pouch and stretchy material.

I walked down the beach and ducked into the shower area for a quick change. I stripped off the now-filthy and too large clothes and threw them in a garbage can. I wouldn't need them and they didn't fit anyway.

Sliding the underwear down, I put on the thong. It stretched to fit, but though it could barely hold my massive cock and balls, it was far more comfortable (but didn't leave much to the imagination).

Turning around to exit, I was stunned to see the man (who the creature had disguised himself as) from the gay club in the next stall! I moved quickly towards the door, but when I got there, there was nothing but wall!

My blood froze. Turning around, I saw the man-creature stripping off his shirt, wearing nothing but a thong like mine.

“You're not going out onto the beach like that, are you?” he said, his voice deep and eyes flashing with evil intent. “Why, you've not got a beach body there, do you? Go over and stand next to the mirror and you'll see what I mean,” he said.

Though once again I screamed inside, my body obeyed his commands. I walked over to the mirror on the other side of the shower house, and he stood behind me. I could feel his pecs against my back and his big dick was lightly touching my ass.

He lifted my arms up into a “posing” position, laughing. “Look at this, your arms are as thin as pencils,” he laughed. “You're in no condition to be on the beach. . . yet.”

With that, his powerful fingers stroked down my arms lightly, giving me goose bumps. In spite of myself, I could feel my dick harden.

“That's not the only thing that's going to harden,” said the creature, pulling down my thong. “This is it, you shall never see or hear me again after this,” he said, pulling out his dick.

My thong was now down around my ankles. Lifting me up effortlessly, he pulled me to a table across from the mirror, where I could see my unfamiliar, alien self hunched over the table with him on top of me.

“This is your final humiliation, and the culmination of your desire,” he said, as he stroked my now massively hard dick. Revulsion and lust mixed as his massive cock brushed against my crack, finding the hole and pushing in.

I groaned and shuddered as inch after inch of hot cock pushed into my ass. He laughed as my head fell back and onto his shoulder. Nibbling my neck, he grunted “now we're going to finish this.”

With that, he began thrusting into me. With each thrust, I felt a tingle shoot through my body. Staring into the mirror, I watched as my muscles grew a little larger with each thrust. Thrust. . . my abs pulsed and grew. Thrust. . . some ab definition. Thrust. . . ugh. . . a deepening six-pack. Thrust. . . ohhhhh. . . a hard eight-pack!

My pecs were getting massaged by him as he thrust in, over and over. Quivering and shuddering, they seemed to come to life, pushing outwards, growing larger and harder. Staring at the mirror, I watched a deepening crevasse form between the hard, sweaty muscle. His hands moved up and down my arms and back as biceps, triceps, and lats pulsed and bulged. My back was shaping into a definite V shape, even as my muscled legs grew thicker. I was becoming a muscled hunk!

My biceps. . . baseballs. No, cannonballs! No, footballs!! Cracking and creaking with each thrust, my muscles bulged, bigger and bigger. Ugh, growing, thickening, bulging, pushing out.

With each thrust of his dick, I could feel my ass become tighter and harder. Soon, it was like marble.

“When I shoot my load into you, you'll change further,” he said, his voice seemingly a bit stressed. “Then. . . when. . . you. . . ughhhhh. . . when. . . you. . . shoot. . . your change will. . . be. . . complete!”

With that, he thrust deeply into me and I could feel his muscles tense against me as hot jets of semen shot into me. The heat quickly shot upwards from inside of me, pushing up towards my chest and stomach, down towards my legs, and down my arms. I watched in the mirror in awe and lust as black hair grew out of my chest, legs, and forearms.

Then, his strong forearm reached around and grasped my throbbing dick, stroking it faster and faster. My balls churned, upwards, and with a massive “YEAGGGGH!” I came. The orgasm was massive and shot all over the table and my chest, even my face, going on for almost two minutes, a crescendo of masculine pleasure.

The semen that landed on my chest and face sank into my skin. I watched as my white skin darkened to a more tan colour, more appropriate for a beach stud. The cum that landed on my face seemed to head into my brain. I could feel my mind change, growing more expert on issues of sex and bodybuilding.

The semen on the table slithered around and reformed into a gym bag, a wallet, and a muscle shirt. I collapsed back against the creature's strong body, as a final shudder of lust shot through my body, and every muscle on my body tensed up and made one last growth bulge before every quivering muscle settled into place.

I stared into the mirror. I was magnificent. Tanned, buff muscles covered my body. My huge, hard pecs were covered with a light and very sexy coating of black fur, which grew down my stomach into a thick thatch around my dick and thinning out again to cover my legs.

I realised I could move again. I staggered away from the creature.

“Your change is now complete and permanent, your desire is real. You said you wanted a body like this, and I took liberties. Of course, being an evil spirit, I was your first new customer,” said the man with a wicked grin.

“An evuhl spiruht, wot do you mean?” I said in a deep voice, realising with a start that I now had the accent of a docklander.

“You released me from my prison where I could torture you. I was thinking you wouldn't make a choice so that I could torture you physically, but this is so much better. You never existed in your old life. You're now Nigel Commons, a man with an incredible metabolism. No matter how much or little you eat or exercise, you'll always be buff, attractive and well-hung. Sadly you're not too educated, so you make your money as a professional escort to gay men. Don't worry though, because you now have a very high sex drive – you can come five, six, seven times a day out of that dick. You make your money as an escort and in porn, and never will do anything else. Your muscles and body will turn on men and women who like gay porn around the world. You will be a sex object and nothing more. Your IQ is now 95, down from 140. Your bag has your passport in it, your wallet has your licence and money, and you've got some posing trunks. Now, time to go get business!”

With a shrieking laugh, he disappeared, and I found myself standing in the bathroom, terrified, beautifully awful, everything I wanted to be and nothing that I wanted to be. The old lady's warning rang through my head. . . “Beware, for what you desire may go beyond your control and turn against you!”

Well, mate, that is my story. Now fancy a shag? I am big but gentle, and my muscles are amazing. My chest hair and hard body will feel incredible against your back. A man has to earn a living, after all. . . •

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