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|He was looking into a pair of deep blue eyes. He was kissing Joe. Joe was kissing him. He was the same height, not reaching up. Joe wasn't reaching down. Joe was over six feet tall. Easily. Stan was 5-9.
Stan had been 5-9. He was looking into Joe's eyes, feeling Joe's soft, warm mouth against his own, Joe's sensuous tongue inside wrestling with his own, Joe's moist lips on his own. Joe's skin felt silken, smooth, and tender, and he could feel his own whiskers rubbing against that supple skin like sandpaper. He could feel everything, every sense, heightened. His skin, exposed and slick, tingled with every touch of the boy's hands. The hairs on his chest, the dark curling forest, delivered strong, sensual shocks as Joe's touch passed through them. Joe's thumb plucked his nipple and a solid tremor of bliss shook his body, targeting his heavy cock, which was feeling its own heightened sensations of sexual satisfaction.
His arms hung at his sides as the two young men pleasured him, and he lifted them now and embraced Joe's huge form, and he was surprised when he did not find that polyester shirt under his touch but instead he found more of that soft, giving flesh everywhere. It encased the boy's mountains of muscle like the softest leather, and Stan could feel every bulging mass under his arms as they pressed outward against him, flexing and stretching and bulging. He felt them swell under his embrace, swelling against his arms, muscle to muscle.
He moaned when the other boy, Bobby, did something below. Stanley felt other hands now on his own butt, grabbing and kneading the flesh, the fingers pushing in and between his buns and rubbing against the responsive lips of his hole. He'd never felt this before, never imagined what it would feel like, the excitement of it, the thrill and deep, shuddering waves of pleasure this slight touch brought. It was as if the boys' touch delivered waves of intense pleasure, as if wherever they touched him he could feel himself awakening to new feelings of erotic bliss more extreme and passionate than any he'd ever felt. His body was exploding from within, lit up and superheated, about to burst with sexual release.
He wanted to cum so badly. He could feel it, his load, feel it swollen and ripe and thick in his loins. It burned with need and inflated with power, it made his balls feel heavy and hot, he wanted to push it from him, to feel the release of it, to glory in his power, but he could not. And it grew stronger and hotter and larger still.
A tongue, long and wet, licked his stiffness and wrapped around it and made him bigger. The hands were caressing his ass, the fingers probing and poking and ticking his insides. Lips kissed the tip of his beats, sucked his helmeted head inside a warm mouth, pulled his hardness deeply down. He was being swallowed whole. His whole body felt energized, super-powered, and magnificent. He could feel every muscle pulsing with growth and power, his strength swelling outward, his very masculinity amplifying into something overwhelming and conspicuous. He needed to roar and growl and shout to the heavens with the power inside.
Joe's mouth finally left his, and his head hung forward and he looked down at himself.
He was breathing fast and deep, his whole being overheated and exploding with power, and he saw what he had become -- was becoming.
His chest bulged outward from his body, with fat round nipples mounted on the heavy globes. He could see a set of shoulders down there, Bobby's shoulders, huge and bulging, bigger even than his chest. They flexed and swelled as the boy sucked on his cock. He could hardly stand this, the feeling of pleasure, the burn and swell of growth and power that shook him. He was at the edge of release, the sharp, angry point of it but he couldn't do it, not yet, still not. God, but he wanted to cum. So bad. The pleasure was unbearable. And it continued to build, higher and higher still. Was there no limit? No peak?
He bent forward and watched the rippled six-pack of his belly pop and bulge. The soft curls of hair glistened with sweat, matted against his darkened skin, his tight and beautiful stomach muscles folding against each other under that slim, tanned flesh. He moved his hand forward, his eyes growing round at the site of his arm, overwhelmed with raw brawn, and he bent his arm and watched the bicep ball into a round belly of absolute power. Cables of muscle twisted and flexed on his forearm as he curled his fingers into a fist, veins popping like tree branches across the sinews. Then he reached down and placed his palm on Bobby's head, feeling the soft coolness of his fine, thick hair.
The boy paused in his pleasures and pulled his mouth off Stanley's cock, looking up at the man and smiling. And there was his prick, red and hard and inches long. It bobbed with every beat of his heart, growing harder still. A thick, clear droplet appeared at the tip and drizzled down, falling on Bobby's huge, hairless chest. He wanted to grab himself, feel his heat and hardness, but he was afraid he'd pop with the slightest touch of his hand, as if that contact would make all this become real. Bobby squeezed his ass hard, pushing three fingers inside his ass, and he bit his lip and closed his eyes and bent his head back.
Whose body was this? Whose chest, so broad and thick with muscle? Whose flat, hard belly? Whose huge prick, swollen so large and long, delivering incredibly deep and powerful shocks of throbbing sexual pleasure, was that? What was this dream? Had they drugged him, these two beautiful young men? Was he hallucinating now, lost in some narcotic dream?
Bobby's mouth and hands were back at work, and he heard Joe's voice in his ear again. "Are you ready, Stan?"
"For... for what?" Joe's arms wrapped around him. He could feel the boy's hard muscles pressing against his back.
Joe felt great. He loved this, this feeling. He was pouring his power and strength into the old guy, watching his body change, watching his face growing younger and more handsome, watching the skin stretch across his powerful muscles, the wrinkles disappearing as the flesh evened out across the wider expanses of shoulder and chest. It was amazing, watching him change and feeling it as well. He was giving a powerful gift, flooding the guy's body with what he had in such abundance.
Now the man looked almost nothing at all like he had. His head was now crowned with a full head of dark curls. The jowls of his face and his heavy double chin had been replaced with a strong, square jaw and high, angular cheeks. His eyes looked clear and shining. His lips were now moist and warm and soft -- he was a great kisser, and that was something that wasn't given by Joe and Bobby. His passion was full and powerful, like he hungered for this, like he was starving for it.
And Joe was starting to realize that this action, this feat, was like sex. No, it was better even than sex. Because he became part of the man he was with, literally. He gave himself to the man, and the pleasure he got from it, both physically and emotionally, surpassed anything he ever felt -- even in his new body -- when he was with someone. This transformation, which he wanted to go on and on, was delivering for him the same strong waves of passionate sexual and sensual ecstasy that Stan was feeling. Maybe because when a guy was transformed, it was all new to him, and the Touch and everything else about the action gave him back some of that passion, and the action was stronger and more fulfilling than any straight fuck he'd had, and he'd had a lot.
This is what he wanted to do. Find men and bring them over. Change them utterly. Show them what it was like on his side. Make them better than they ever dreamed, bigger and stronger and more beautiful by far. Build up their masculine powers until it was spilling out of them, leaking from every pore, sweating from their bodies and shooting from their cocks.
"Are you ready, Stan?" he whispered, pressing his growing body against Stanley's developing brawn.
"For... for what?" came the reply. And Joe smiled, because he knew that the guy in his arms could not believe it could get any better than this.
So he showed him that it could, and without thinking, without consideration for where they were, or what would happen, because he wanted to do this more than anything, he poured himself into Stanley's body, all of himself, everything he was, all his strength and youth and beauty, all the power that raged through every cell of his body. He heard Bobby's sexy drawl in his head voice a sudden warning, but it was too late, he had committed, he wanted this, and it was too late to stop.
Bobby felt Joe flooding Stan with Transform, and he looked up as the now beautiful man began to suddenly expand in all directions, growing muscle so quickly that it looked like it was inflating beneath his skin, his dick suddenly lengthening and fattening, and another one bursting from his groin and thrusting out by the inch in seconds. He was practically thrown from the guy, shoved off his dick as he began to grow, and landing flat on his ass he looked up as Stanley's head approached the ceiling.
"Oh, shit," he said softly.
Stan felt something explode. He suddenly realized it was him.
Joe shoved it all in all at once. It was like cumming. It was like having the strongest, most satisfying orgasm ever as he pushed all his power at Stanley and felt the man swelling with rock hard muscle, expanding out of his grip and growing taller and wider by the foot. He heard a crash, and felt a thunderous shaking, like the earth was moving.
Bobby looked up as Stan's body grew so fast with size and strength that his head shot through the ceiling, then his shoulders, six feet wide and getting bigger by the second, crashed into the beams and ripped the roof open, and he was still getting bigger, and the building began to rain down on Bobby, pieces of wood and fiberglass and metal showering his perfect form as the man swelled bigger and bigger, ripping the restaurant apart.
Joe blinked and shielded his eyes from the rubble and dust filling the place. He started laughing as he watched Stan swell to his ultimate form in seconds, his growing body ripping the roof apart. He looked over at Bobby who looked back at him and all he could think of to say was, "Oops."
"Holy fuck!" Bobby had to yell over the crashing noise of the restaurant being ripped apart. "Holy fuck, Joe! Look what you did!"
They scrambled to their feet and stood up, watching Stan continue to grow higher and thicker and more amazing. The muscle of his legs swelled massive, his balls drooped and suddenly his twin cocks were erupting, spraying wide streams of hot cream all over the insides of the Tastee Freez.
"Holy fuck!" Bobby had to yell again, but now he was smiling, too. It was incredible. Even he could not believe what was happening. Stan was pumping gallons of cream from his powerful balls, it was flooding over everything, it sprayed across their bodies and drenched them, and their Transformed frames started to drink it inside like water on a parched desert.
Stan's body was exploding. He had finally reached the summit of the long, tall mountain of pure pleasure he'd been mounting, and now he was exploding with sexual bliss that shook him and erupted from him. He felt like he had two cocks, both spouting a fountain of hot, thick cream, and he kept cumming and cumming. He felt something break around him, as if he was emerging from his shell, and suddenly the cool night winds surrounded and caressed him. He straightened and stretched himself to his full height, feeling stronger than he'd ever felt in his life. The thick, heavy masculine scent was everywhere, all around him, funky and sweet. He realized it was coming off him, and he smiled and sucked it inside his lungs where it burned and spread like syrupy fire.
It was suddenly dark, and something was poking his legs and feet, and he opened his eyes and saw the sky, and thousands of stars, and he realized his was naked, and he felt free and sexy and powerful.
Bobby stretched his arms wide and felt the man's strength feeding him, and he allowed himself to grow, now, to swell up and out, releasing the constraints he'd placed on himself. Joe watched his friend growing for a few moments and then joined him, standing there as he zoomed toward the ceiling and then the night sky. They both did so much more damage to the Tastee Freez that it collapsed at their feet, a pile of rubble.
And they stood, the three transformed men, 19 feet high and overwhelmed with superhuman strength and beauty. Their naked forms towered above the rubble of the restaurant. Headlights from the highway in the distance were the only source of light, the crescent moon hidden by clouds. Cool evening breezes bathed their perfect skin and the two original members of this elite brotherhood were both looking at the newest member and smiling at him in awe and wonder, because no matter how often it happened, it was always amazing to see the finished product.
Stanley's perfected form was a dark shadow in the night. His skin was burnished to a Mediterranean olive, and dark curls of soft fur coated his muscled body. He had very large nipples with fat caps poking up through the dark carpet, and an absurdly small waist in contrast to his massive upper body. The black waves of hair that had started to sprout on his head now fell thick and full across his shoulders and down his back. He had deep brown eyes and his prominent chin and brow were similarly darkened with thick bristles. He looked incredibly masculine now, and nearly all vestiges of the portly, soft, white man that had ordered a cheeseburger were wiped away. He looked no older than 18 or 19, and in the dim light of the morning the angles and bulges of his powerful form were thrown into deep contrast.
He stood there dumbfounded. He was standing as tall as a giant and could feel his overwhelming strength coursing through every inch of his new, huge frame. He felt incredibly alive, there was no other word for it. And so powerful, strong enough to do... anything. "What the hell was that?"
His voice rumbled and thundered from his huge chest, saturated with masculine power. It reverberated across the parking lot as the dust settled at his feet, and the two young men at his sides smiled. "Just a thing," said Bobby, his drawl making it sound like `thang.'
Joe laughed slightly. "Looks like we really fucked up the Tastee Freez." He shrugged. "Oh well, I didn't really enjoy that job much, anyway."
"I repeat; What. The hell. Was that?"
Bobby laid an arm across Stan's shoulders. "You've just been Transformed, my friend. Welcome to the brotherhood."
"I've been what?"
Joe put his hand on Stan's ass and squeezed. "Transformed, dude. If we had a big fucking mirror you'd understand. But, um," he glanced down at the ruins, "looks like we broke everything."
"You mean you broke everything."
"Well, Bob, I think if we're being technical about this you'd have to say that Stan broke it."
"He wouldn't have broken anything if you had a little patience."
"Can I help it if I got excited? And, really, does the world need another Tastee Freez?"
"Um, boys?" They looked at him, stopping their argument for the time being. "Is anyone going to tell me what just happened or not?" He was looking down at himself, one hand moving across his chest, digging through his silky body hair, feeling the huge hardness of his muscles, the smooth softness of his flesh, how everything tingled with sensual bliss. He watched his twin pricks twining and writhing at his groin, lowering his hand to them and making them twist and squirm in his grip. They moved like snakes in his grip, supple and strong and ready to start pumping again if he wanted. He knew it to be true, he could feel it, feel their strength and his control.
"It's a long story," began Joe.
"And probably better told somewhere else." He was looking up the road at a pair of headlights headed their way.
"Shit. Okay, Stan, we need to shrink down."
"Just make yourself smaller." The two of them were already shutting up like telescopes, shrinking away from him. And all Stan had to do was imagine himself smaller, and he was shrinking, too, feeling his huge muscles contracting and his bones compacting. It was an odd sensation but seemed somehow perfectly natural, too. "Okay, good. Um, so, now we're gonna fly."
"I beg your pardon?"
Bobby smirked. "I know it sounds weird, but you can do it. Just sort of, uh, push off the ground -- you're really strong now so be careful that you don't go too high, k? And hopefully when you get up there it'll sort of come natural to you. And, um, oh shit, okay let's get the fuck gone!"
And suddenly, he wasn't there anymore. There were lights growing stronger from somewhere. Stan looked over and Joe was gone, too. Then he heard them from somewhere overhead, calling his name. He was shaking his head, thinking he'd wake up from this any second. This was too real, too weird. "Sort of push off, huh?" So he bent his legs, squatted slightly, looked up at the stars and jumped.
The air rushed past his naked form and he felt himself moving forward. He looked down and watched the ground recede from him, and he was moving very fast, very, very fast. His eyes teared up as the wind buffeted him and, without thinking, he raised his arms and was suddenly slowing. Some inner sense was coming into play and he could feel the channels of the wind, sense the pull of gravity and the weight of the air around him. He was moving through it, around it, above it. He had never felt such a sense of freedom. His heart was racing and it felt like his soul would explode from joy.
This, he felt, was fucking great.
"Whoa," he said softly, and he found himself hanging motionless above the earth, held there by the overwhelming strength coursing through him, sensing the currents of air and slipping himself between them.
He was floating in the inky night sky surrounded by the stars. The clouds that had obscured the moon were now below him, and above the moon shone its blue-white light across his body.
Magnificent was the first word that came to mind. Followed by huge, muscular, beautiful and firm. He found that this new dream body -- for what else could this be but a dream? -- was as flexible as it was strong. He could twist himself over backwards and touch his head to his heels. He could bend forward and kiss his toes, or suck on them if he wanted to (which he tried, and found even that was curiously satisfying). His wealth of dark curls floated around his head and he had to keep pushing it away as the winds picked it up and wafted it like the limbs of a tree.
He hung there, several hundred feet above the ground, in his new body and let his hands explore. He didn't close his eyes while this touch moved across the smooth, silken skin that seemed absurdly sensitive.
It felt so soft and so incredibly smooth that he might have thought that it wasn't skin at all, but some perfect fabric or buttery suede draped across rock hard muscularity of such incredible size and definition that, except for the fact that he could feel the movement of that muscle, its flex and bulge and power, that he would have sworn it was rock. He found his nipple again and rolled the tip between his fingers, feeling the sudden strong shocks of erotic bliss all the way to his toes.
The forest of curls kept his attention for a few minutes until he realized that the something he was feeling rubbing and caressing his thighs was also him -- his dick. Reaching down, he corrected that assessment, because he found not one but two huge pythons with thick, firm shafts and flaring helmets that obeyed his every commend. Two of them, he thought. That made so much sense. Two hands, two dicks.
Except for the newly discovered nipple problem. Now he needed four hands.
Then there was a voice in his head, inside it, clear and distinct and tinged with humor and fearlessness. ::You okay, Stan?:: It was Bobby.
He answered aloud, "Yeah, I guess so." Then Bobby said, ::Just use your head to talk to us. We're there, inside, and you can be in us.:: And Stan could `feel' him there, then Joe was there, too. Like the essence of them, the source. It felt good to have them there, to feel them inside him, and he reached out and found himself within them as well, connected utterly. ::Whoa,:: he said again.
::Yeah, pretty cool, huh? And it keeps getting better.::
::What is it?::
::Do you want us to tell you -- or to show you?::
Bobby laughed. ::Showing is a lot more fun.::
Images flooded his head. Images and feelings, like physical sensations, and emotions as well, and strength and power. Men he saw, dozens of them, each more beautiful than the last, and growing, becoming like him, more muscular, more beautiful, bigger, taller, better than before. And something inside him, the gift he could now bestow, the things he could do, the power he controlled. All these truths flooded into him and he knew them to be true.
And they were next to him now, in the night sky, high above the ground. Bobby floated below him, rubbing his muscled form against him, chest to chest, his hands moving across his skin, caressing his body. Then Joe was above him, straddling him, his firm butt on Stan's lower back. "Let's ride," he joked, then they separated from him and darted away through the sky, swimming between the cool winds, soaring and diving in perfect naked glory, two beautiful boys at play. They would meet each other and push away, or soar higher and higher and suddenly dive. They were unleashed in the sky, unfettered by gravity's pull and able to perform with incredible beauty and agility as they flew. Clearly, this was something they enjoyed.
Stan smiled. He launched himself up, arching his strong, naked body through a wide loop until he pivoted at the apex, bent his body backwards and dove through the darkness, following after. If this is a dream, he thought, he was going to go along for the ride as long as it lasted.
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