By Also_KnownAs

Containing a secret is a hard thing to do. And the bigger the secret is, the harder it is to keep. No one was finding the truth of this more than those few men in charge at the Institute for Genetic Enhancement.

In the weeks since the original nine men, known around the site where the supposed laboratory was built as The Team, settled in and began to bring others into the fold, they'd had to make more than a few changes regarding the tale they told newcomers and the method of keeping things contained.

For one thing, some unexpected things started to happen once new men began receiving the change. Rather, expected things started not happening, which was probably a worse turn of events as far as the guys were concerned. Mainly, the expected rate of continued development as they introduced new blood to the serum failed to happen. Secondly, the most amazing changes that they realized in varying degrees - being a secondary male appendage of an equal size, sensitivity and capability of the original augmented tool, the saturating pheromonal scent, the presto-change-o body manipulations and, most unbelievable of all, the ability to harness the winds to appear to float free of Earthly bonds - didn't occur at all. The men coming into the fold were gaining in size and strength, that was certain. And Carlos and Michael worked together to create an introductory sample of the transforming super fluid that severely limited its initial effects but still whetted the appetite of any man granted the use of it with enough readily apparent physical changes to make him realize that the images of the men on the video tapes that accompanied the sample were not mere illusion.

But in case those men chose not to follow through, the changes could conceivably be explained away with some made-up tale of a hearty work-out session. Every time they issued an invitation, there was trepidation that their secret would get out. So they were very careful to screen the applicants as much as possible (it's amazing what you can find out about someone with very little digging and a lot of money to throw around) for some particular personality traits common to those most likely to want what they had to give more than they wanted anything else.

Seeing Todd, Chuck, Carlos and the others - particularly Michael - as perfectly beautiful and as powerfully muscular as men could seem to be, was evidence enough for any man arriving who may have still had doubts about their decision to come to IGE in the first place to realize that their dreams could be fulfilled here. Not just their dreams, but their fantasies as well.

The rampant and freely available fucking that seemed to be going on non-stop was another strong enticement, especially when coupled with the fact that seemingly every man at the camp was, to be frank, gorgeous and oversexed. Hung studs with bulging muscles smiling at each other with their perfect mouths, eyeing each other with their sparkling eyes, stoking and grabbing and caressing each other's smoothly powerful bodies as they strode by with silken smoothness and athletic grace. It was a walking, talking sex farm 24 hours a day. And every man you saw was more beautiful than the last.

Blake, were he to consider his own place in this seemingly impossible setting of awesome male fantasy made flesh, could have placed himself as a slightly better than average example of the very much better than average examples of utter masculinity wandering the grounds with huge, swinging dicks and huge, hard muscles. He noticed a distinct difference between one group of men and another, as if some had managed to develop into mere bodybuilders, while the others were nearly gods walking the Earth, their forms overwhelmingly beautiful and powerful, their faces and features honed to a physical beauty almost too breathtaking to look at directly.

And he recognized himself among their number. Fuck, he'd as much as fallen in love with his own reflection as he watched himself change two weeks ago, and it had taken the days between to start growing accustomed to seeing his new appearance every time he looked at a mirror.

He'd received the shining, black box and its simple contents with doubt bordering on disbelief. Even in the face of the exhibitions of absolute male perfection he'd seen on the video tape, and the image of the man he knew as Leo - but clearly much more and greater than the Leo he had been familiar with - made his heart race and his groin throb with need and desire. The man who called himself Chuck on the IGE tape was something out of a comic book fuck fantasy, the ideal of what a man could be. Impossibly tall, improbably broad, every inch packed with bulging power, and he was endowed with something like a snake down below, if the glimpse Blake caught of the beast was any indication of its true size. Then Leo, that supreme horndog, waltzed onto the screen and removed any doubt about what he was now gifted with.

Watching his occasional fuck buddy stroke his mammoth tool to throbbing hardness as his deep, sexy voice promised that Blake could have all that and more, the young man started pumping out hot cum by the pint then and there, all over the carpet and the TV screen.

So, he'd accepted the invitation and opened the vials of what they called Transform. One was clear, the other milky white. The moment the tiny droplet of the first touched his tongue, a salty tang filled his mouth and his senses were overcome with an incredibly deep sensation of masculinity, like he was tasting male essence. He felt dizzy and hot and wondered if he'd made a mistake. At the same time, some desire he could not name but which felt like lust and passion and erotic need made him drizzle the droplet from the second vial on his tongue and he doubled over in pain as a heat so intense was suddenly filling him up inside, pouring down his throat like lava and exploding in his belly like a nuclear bomb.

The heat swelled and spread, a white hot ball of energy and power shooting through him lightning fast until his whole body was buzzing, throbbing, feeling like he would explode from the inside out.

Then he was growing.

Bent over, grabbing his gut, he could feel his belly grow suddenly hard, as if he'd tensed his abs so tight that they were rigid as steel. He could feel his muscles in bands against his forearms, the cables of power pressing outward, then separating into distinct, bulging masses. At the same time, a tingling of sexual pleasure was licking his dick and balls, a feather-light brushing of something along the length of his cock and digging inside his groin, a pleasure he could feel all the way through to his ass. He looked down through his pinched eyes as the pain of heat suddenly altered into a depth of pleasure that was just as filling, and almost unbearably good. The growth that was infusing his abdominals rose into his chest and sank onto his thighs and, as he watched, thick cords spread across his chest with a sudden, brawny urgency. The same smooth growth of muscular power reached down his legs, and as he slowly straightened, they just kept swelling.

He dropped his arms to his sides and looked at the mirror in front of him, watching a body swelling into power that he could hardly believe was real. He could feel his arms being pushed outward as his chest just kept growing, joined now by two muscled wings unfurling from his back. He was growing heavy, a weight of profound strength swelling outward everywhere. Lats appeared that were so thick and huge that they threatened to overwhelm his body, but it wouldn't be beaten so easily.

His belly solidified and swelled thicker, another pair of muscles turning his six-pack into an eight-pack and he realized he was growing not just wider, but taller as well.

In only two minutes, he felt twice as big as he'd been. Muscle was growing everywhere, and suddenly he felt a heavy tugging at his loins as his cock seemed to bloom all at once, the shaft swelling as the head drooped, his whole tool suddenly hot and lusciously heavy. He could see it grow, watch the veins suffuse the shaft and branch out to feed the beast. His balls were also enlarging, growing and developing, swelling like ripening fruit, pushing against his hugely muscled thighs that, themselves, were refusing to give in to the growth everywhere else.

He found himself smiling, and looked into his face to see that it, too, was changing. Subtly at first, then with growing speed as his face seemed to perfect his features to one that would make a man cum just to look at it. His muddy-azure gaze turned bright, clear green. His unremarkable brown hair seemed to be glowing like sunlight, a copper cascade with golden highlights. His chin jutted forward, his cheeks rising, his brow becoming utterly masculine and powerful. His smile was now making his knees weak. Was the man looking back at him really Blake?

"Yes," he said, and his emerald eyes registered the surprise he felt at the sound of that deep, bass rumble. His hand, his huge hand, reached up to touch his throat. He felt the muscle there expanding under his touch. The cords of power lengthening and multiplying beneath his fingers. He watched in the mirror as his forearm swelled with new power, he could see his bicep bulge with brawn. He started smiling again and the white gleem of his teeth on his tanned features drew his attention back to the face in the mirror.

"Hello, Blake," he said, feeling his own voice in his ears like an invitation to sex. And as he felt that drive, he looked down to watch his huge prick begin to throb and stiffen, rising between his legs like some majestic beast. "Good god," he intoned.

He was still growing, the rate unslowing, his shoulders stretching wider and thicker, out of his peripheral vision, smooth round boulders splitting and splitting again to allow for more and more and more power. His chest was so huge that it looked like he was grasping boulders to his torso. Hair sprouted in curling glory across its expanse, a soft forest of dark silk like some luxuriant carpet. His nipples were little dark, round gems on his burnished bronze skin. Hard ruby peaks that stretched wide and round on his mammoth musculature. He felt a tightening from behind and turned to display his ass, two beautiful and round hemispheres of perfection, rising to full moons in the mirror. And he was still gaining height as well as size, his form expanding beyond the boundaries of the "full-length" mirror.

But his focus reaffixed on all that weight hanging between his legs, his still developing cock getting longer, thicker, fatter and harder. His balls felt like they were filled with some magical, electrified elixir, warm and throbbing from inside. A glistening ball of pre-cum erupted from the eye of his heavy tool and started to drizzle the length of him, and his whole prick was tingling as if he were already stroking himself to eruption.

His body was pulsing with power. He could feel himself getting huge, his muscles bulging with still-increasing brawn and he ran his finger along the length of his dick, a silver shock of pleasure digging itself deeply into his core.

He slowly pleasured himself, then, even as he continued to develop, all from two tiny drops of whatever they'd put in that box until he was pumping out load after load of hot, white cream that puddled the floor under his huge feet. His orgasm was like a tide of bliss, a minutes-long swim through a thick haze of sexual release.

It didn't take much more convincing to get the now 295-pound, 7-foot 6-inch man to go to IGE after that. But before he continued his development, he wanted to see how much fun he could have out in his world with his new, fantastic body. He'd grown a full foot and a half taller and probably three feet wider or more. What was it like parading this perfect vision of male pulchritude around the streets of San Francisco?

Clothes, of course, were an issue. He'd been built before, gifted with a metabolism that allowed him to add muscle seemingly faster than the other guys at the gym, and a lot faster than other guys his age, even before the onset of puberty. He looked 18 when he was 14, getting away with things out in the adult world he probably shouldn't have. This was the summer before his first year at SF State, and his 18-year-young body was now built like a brick shithouse and hung like butcher's window. This stuff seemed to have hyper-accelerated his development beyond even his imagination. His deep, booming voice, the soft patches of hair erupting in dark shadows where it counted, he was looking much older than he was.

And his libido was kicked into overdrive as well. He was horny as Satan and ready to erupt.

He spent a week just fucking everything in sight. He appeared in his bike shorts, the only pants stretchy enough to envelope his muscled contours and huge basket, and T shirts that clung to his rippled belly and tore wide as they went up, the sleeves opening to reveal the masses of muscle on his upper body. He was literally bursting out of his clothes, all thick tanned muscle and smooth, sleek skin. In short order, he gave up the shirts altogether.

The men all wanted him, acted really weird when he was around like they couldn't control themselves, like he was some sexual magnet to the whole gay community's lustful desires. He expected eyes to turn his way, but it was as if he had some scent they could sense, and it didn't matter what anyone was into, they were all into him.

What he didn't know was that this insane thought wasn't too far from the truth, and also that he was gifting the men he fucked with something a little extra of his own, passing on a small part of the full potential of his own change so that they began to realize, in a much diminished but still noticeable fashion, faster muscle gains when working out and heightened sex drives nearly all the time. They were literally better men for having known him.

But after only a week, he started to realize that he wasn't being satisfied, that his dick was big enough to feed a platoon but nothing the guys gave him was filling his own growing needs. He realized that what he heeded was more of what he had.

He needed other augmented guys, like the ones in the video. And he wanted more of what IGE promised to give him.

Once he arrived at IGE, what was weird to Blake was what wasn't being asked - or answered. Probably, if he were more prudent and less curious, nothing would have happened. But there's only so much perfection one can put up with before one gets bored and starts to wonder, well, what's next?

Usually, all it took was a visit from Michael to keep any man quiet and content. Every man at IGE was an exceptional example of masculine beauty. Every man who came to IGE had already realized a degree of the muscular and physical enhancements that could be realized using their seemingly magical formula known as Transform.

With only a small amount of the fluid, given as a teaser of sorts in a rather elaborately conceived pre-acceptance process, any invited applicant would see, in a matter of moments, visible muscle development to such an extent that nothing short of magic could possibly explain it. Any man's biceps would bulge, his chest swell with cabled strength, his legs balloon with brawn. Like Blake, he'd find that his stomach would tighten, shrink then bubble with cobblestones, a defined six-pack of power. Even more surprising, and perhaps more remarkable, his cock would lengthen, thicken, grow into a heavy, substantial bulk of super sensitive man meat hanging impressively between his more powerful thighs and above a set of quickly swelling balls - balls filling with a hot fountain of cream that would hold off erupting until it was almost too much to bear, only then delivering an orgasmic rush of such depth and pleasure that swooning was a definite possibility.

If the droplet delivered in the teaser package could have such immediate and obvious effect on a man's body, how could it be any more surprising to see what men could become given a full dosage of the formula?

Blake had been at IGE for three days. His new body, already super-enhanced by the first hint of Transform that had arrived in his invitation package, had been unclothed since he'd stepped off the boat and onto the dock. He'd been asked to strip for what he had assumed was some physical, but no physical had taken place and he never saw his clothes again. The boat's pilot, a gorgeous muscular hunk with an ass to die for, gave a hint at what awaited his senses when he reached the compound, and the two men who greeted him on the dock were a shock at first, but the sort of shock any gay man could get used to very quickly.

Two naked men, both very tall and very muscular, one a Mediterranean looking guy with a long cascade of blue-black hair, the other a freckled man with very pale skin with what looked to be silver-flecked red hair so closely cropped on his head that is looked like he had a halo, were nearly uniformly beautiful. They almost looked like walking sculptures from one of Michelangelo's better wet dreams. Their skin literally glowed under the bright, hot sun.

Any idea he had that they weren't real was immediately dashed on the bleached wood of the dock when the shaven one said, "Hi, Blake. My name's Reggie. Leo said to send you this." Then he reached his hand behind Blake's neck, bent his lips down and gifted the surprised young man with a deeply passionate kiss.

The other man laughed slightly, his toothy grin wiped across his dark features like moonlight on a midnight lake. "Let the guy take a breath for Chrissakes, Reg. He just got here and you're already trying to be his best friend."

"I'm just welcoming him, Justin." The huge man gazed down with his silver-blue eyes and said, "You feel welcome, don't you Blake?"

"Judging by the bulge in his jeans, I'd say the answer is yes."

Blake was still catching his breath - the man who'd kissed him had a cologne around him like spice and sweat, a thick, masculine scent that seeped through Blake's skin like a heady aphrodisiac. Reggie's tongue felt as thick and long as the prick hanging so full and heavy from his groin. For that matter, the other man, Justin, was as gifted in that department, his uncut monster swinging like a pendulum as he approached and laid his thick, huge arm across Blake's shoulders. "I'd apologize for my friend, but you'll soon find out that his forward behavior is hardly out of character for the guys around IGE." He reached down and tickled Blake's nipple through the white T-shirt he still wore, teasing it to hardness. "I'm Justin. And welcome to the compound. Now, if you'll please disrobe we can introduce you to The Team."

And if Blake thought he was hot shit, he was nothing when compared to the Team.

Seeing those giants walking naked among the others, lounging on the lawns, lying together, loving each other with obvious passion and lust, seeing their marvelous bodies glowing with strength and power was a shock. Todd and Chuck were 10 feet tall, Todd a golden haired God, Chuck an always-horny swarthy brute with a cooked smile and a horse cock. There was Carlos, the Latin heart- throb and his oddly stilted way of talking, as if his brain was on overdrive. Jeremy and Jeff, the couple who were always together, even when there were a few other men thrown into the orgy. The guy with the golden cock, an average muscle stud (by comparison) named Sam gifted with the largest prick in relation to his size, the shortest of The Team at "only" seven feet. David defined muscle, a man of such overwhelming size and strength that it sometimes seemed impossible that a single human body could contain that much hard-packed power. Huge everywhere, but still inhumanly flexible and lithe, which he was happy to demonstrate to - or with - anyone. Then the tallest of The Team, Steven, a hirsute gentle giant, often quiet and unassuming even at 12 feet high, or possibly more. Still overloaded with muscle, but his bulging frame was also carpeted with a thick forest of fine, dark hair. And then there was Michael.

What the other members of The Team possessed, Michael was another magnitude beyond them. You could literally feel him enter a room. Your enhanced prick would pulse and swell, your balls would churn, your skin would tingle. Hearing him speak was like hearing your lover speak your name. The sound would enter your head and grab hold of your brain, sending it due south. It was music and thunder, power and beauty. Every word digging deeper inside. If your eye caught his, it really was electricity. Those blue, blue orbs would meet yours and you'd feel your knees go week. If he smiled, you were his, hook line and tight little ass. When he arrived, Blake shook Michael's hand and something like sex passed through him. It was as if touching the man was like touching erotic bliss, as if he was coated in the essence of sex. He figured later that it was just lust that he was feeling, his senses overwhelmed by the man's incredible beauty and an abundance of natural charm and charisma. How could it possibly be some physical manifestation?

Still, he ached to feel that touch again. •

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