The patterns took on a life of their own. Snatches of images formed like cloud figures then immediately evolved to nothing. Themes of long buried musical passages floated to the surface of his conscious mind, were briefly recognized and again faded into the background thrum of a dull heart-like beat. Tiny explosions of colored light appeared again. Meaningless in their singularity but ever more numerous and evocative in their plurality, triggered suppressed memories and desires.

Strange thing about the slightly sub-conscious flickering of memories, imaginings, dreams and desires, they are indistinguishable from each other. Like the undifferentiated super hot burst of god-like energy at the moment of the big bang or the primordial soup of simple proteins in an ancient lifeless puddle, the vast complexity of the universe or of life would evolve from those simple beginnings. With but the slightest nudge in a particular direction at a precise moment the snowball effect could be used to steer the progression of energy, sub-atomic particles, molecules or even thoughts to never before imagined heights of specific complex and spectacular reality or illusion.

“Infinite possibilities“. That’s what the title of the paper had been. Quite out of character for what had promised to be yet another dull week of pharmaceutical conference seminars, buffets and cocktail parties schmoozing the doctors to promote yet more needless and overly expensive drugs to fight depression in an increasingly depressing society. The presentation room was nearly empty, and the few attendees were scattered mostly in the back of the room hoping to be able to make a hasty and unnoticed exit in case the topic was as useless as they suspected it would be.

Very little explanatory text had followed the announcement of the paper. Just a brief paragraph about a new drug used in dream research, and a disclaimer indicating that the paper arrived too late to be published in the proceedings. Out of habit, Jason Blaise took a seat near the front and busied himself scanning the proceedings again hoping unsuccessfully to find something more interesting to attend for the next two hours.

The door to the room closed, the lights were turned down and a bookish pale little man began to drone on without animation simply reading his paper and periodically mentioning the photos appearing on the large video screen behind him. Boring, unfamiliar information. about synapses, hormone transcription, relational ganglia, subconscious pathways, and any number of things that were of no interest at all to anyone in the room. Jason, busied himself answering his e-mail through his phone and when finished with that began using it to read a new story that had just appeared at his favorite muscle growth fantasy site.

Right in the middle of a really hot transformation scene he realized that the speaker was now asking if anybody was interested in a demonstration. In particular Jason realized that the speaker was talking directly to him. Craning his head from side and even turning around he failed to see anybody else in the auditorium that he could possibly hope could have been the target of the question. He was the only one left.

The bookish pale little man simply stared at Jason and repeated the question, this time with a hint of pleading to his voice. The first emotion that had had been heard from the speaker in nearly forty-five minutes.

“Really, sir, I do believe you will find this quite interesting.” On the verge of trying to wiggle out of this unwanted situation, Jason was fumbling for an excuse to simply leave. The speaker pleaded again “Please, sir. I promise this will be quite a realistic experience and all you have to do is sleep for the next hour. We will take care of everything else.” Now that sounded like something Jason could do, sleep.

“OK, what the hell. I could use a little nap.” Jason walked around to the edge of the stage and up the stairs where he was greeted by the pale little man who now had a slightly pleased and excited look about him. A reclining chair was wheeled onto the stage by another equally bookish little man who could have been the twin of the man who made the presentation. A quick explanation of what was going to happen was given by one of the men, though Jason couldn’t tell if it was the original speaker or not. They both were so much alike. The instructions themselves were so uninteresting and unenthusiastically given that they went right over his head. Allowing himself to be lead step by step through the process of placing sensors on his head and body and a few injections of something to make him drowsy and the new drug that the researchers were trying to demonstrate.

Jason shortly found himself seated in the modified reclining chair and his arms and legs tightly strapped down totally immobile and with a virtual reality helmet on his head.

The helmet had looked like a sci-fi version of a full head motorcycle helmet. It snapped and locked into position into a recess in the headrest of the chair, He thought it was odd that a mouthpiece was provided also but it was explained that it would make sure that excess saliva would be taken care of conveniently.

The fit of the helmet was snug. A hard piece of helmet material also snapped into place at the bottom of the chin opening which blocked out all external light and some sound. It also held the mouthpiece firmly in place. The ear pieces had inflated with liquid to fit completely around his ears to seal out sound nearly perfectly. Likewise the eyepiece equipment inside the helmet inflated with warm liquid and snuggled into perfect position directly in front of each eyeball. The visual arrangement, he remembered from the brief piece of explanation he had actually registered, was a high intensity, high density pixel array designed to project images into the eye right through the closed eyelid as if the eye were focused at infinity and the image area covered the entire range of motion of the eye. He remembered something about a neuro-blocker and him not being able to open his eye lids even if he wanted to for the next hour. The mouthpiece he found out to his dismay also filled with warm liquid and was now effectively a firmly entrenched gag. The only noise he could make was a muffled grunt or gurgle. Panic set in for a moment then he remembered them saying all his vital signs were being monitored carefully and that everything was under control, all he had to do was just go to sleep.

Once settled into the chair, the equipment was turned on and indeed he could see light despite his eyes being closed. He could move his eyeballs under the lids but everywhere he looked all he could see was a thin fog of sky blue color slightly swirling here and there. Jason had expected to receive instructions through the headphones in the helmet but none came. A dull thrum, thrum, thrum just barely at the level of audibility was all there was. That, coupled with the slightly swirling blue fog quickly became boring and his mind wandered back to the unfinished muscle transformation story that he had been reading. A really hot story by his favorite author. Stories by that author never failed to push his buttons. Just thinking about the plot line of the story excited him. Oh, god, he was getting an erection. The loose pair of boxer shorts and his loose Docker style pants would not hide a good boner of his above average endowment. He’d “tent” for sure. Mustn’t think about the muscle transformation. “Gotta stop” he thought.

Fruitlessly he tried to change his thoughts, home… work.. school… play……, play… Yeah, he’d like to play with that guy in the story…he was going to be a big guy, all of that author’s characters ended up being big guys, huge guys, mega-muscle guys with huge dicks waving enticingly conveniently within reach. “NO! mustn’t think about this, I can feel my dick rising. Oh, how fuck’n embarrassing. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? “

The two twin nerdish pale little men were busy with the array of equipment that had been wheeled around the reclining volunteer. They both noticed the rising tent in their subject’s trousers and smiled knowingly at each other for a brief moment of unprofessional satisfaction that was quickly replaced by rapid activity to assure all their measurements were being recorded properly. A few more cables were connected and the big video screen above the stage came to life with a sky blue color that was slightly swirling here and there.

“Feedback circuits verified” one said, “Amplification initiated” said the other after a moment. “OK”, one said with a totally detached curiosity, “Let’s see where this volunteer wants to go.” They both settled back in their swivel chairs and waited for their drug to take effect on the man in the chair.

Right on schedule and with one full hour still left to the session, the effects of the drug announced itself with a shift in the color of the display to deep blue then a slow fade to black. Jason, was almost successful in pushing the thought of the muscle transformation out of his mind when he noticed a change in the sound through his headphones and the color of his vision darkening. The diversion was brief and his thoughts went back to that muscle guy in the story and locked onto the image as if time had stopped. The light in his field of vision faded to black and the thrumming in his ears grew louder. Jason didn’t know when he fell asleep. Do we ever really know we fall asleep? His consciousness was in that state of transition where reality and imagination blur. The image of a massively muscular man seemed frozen in his mind. Like a 3D image on a computer, the image was available for his complete inspection. He thought he’d like to see those flaring lats from the back and the image obliged by rotating into a rear view. “Oh, yeah, great lats, wide, thick, glistening with sweat, undulating paper thin skin skimmed the surface of heavily veined bulging, muscle radiating with almost visible heat.” he thought, and it was so. He wanted to touch that body so much. To run his hands over the hardness of it. It’s nearness was palpable but out of reach, “…so tempting, so tempting, so near…can’t quite reach it…”

The view faded slightly and his connection with it lessened for a moment. From out of nowhere a smoky image of his boss chattering on about contracts that needed to be rewritten appeared between him and that magnificent body but was quickly blown out of the way with a gust of mental wind. The image in his mind drifted down the back of the muscled figure and hesitated a moment on those magnificent buns, so round and solid just begging to be cupped in his hand if he could only get closer. But like an invisible wall the tantalizing image stayed just out of reach now floating in an eternal field of infinite blackness. The figure lit by it’s own radiance was the center of this reality. Realizing that the lats and buns were all he’d been thinking about, his mind’s eye now turned to the surrounding muscle of massive traps and yet more massive thighs, hamstrings, and calves all straining the skin and seemingly trying to bulge yet closer to him begging to be caressed, warmed and brought to life by his touch.

As his desire to touch this apparition increased, the glow from the bronzed beast in front of him intensified and drew him closer. A warmth flooded his mind as he came within arms length of this his ideal masculine figure. The glow from the figure became warmth, and a faint scent of salt sweat and hair tickled his perception of smell and he again drew closer to the back of this magnificent frozen but living statue.

The hard divided roundness of the three lobes of unbelievable deltoids met his hands on each side of the abnormally wide body. The shape of those shoulder caps invited tactile examination of the valleys between the tensed muscles and down the arm. Biceps studded with veins, rock hard and flowing to the back of the arms gracefully but with sharp delineation into the nearly twice as big triceps especially notable by their deep horseshoe shape of warm velvet iron under his fingers.

Now able to touch the figure, he drew himself closer burying his nose in the canyon between the mounds of trapezius muscle between the shoulder blades. Ah, heaven, the warm smell of man. Abandoning all pretense of restraint, he pulled himself tight to the figure and wrapped his arms under and around the wing like lats toward the chest groping for the bulging pecs he knew he’d find. The chest was so wide that only one hand could find purchase over one of those boulders with the firm fleshy nipple. With the other hand he pulled himself even tighter by cupping one of the grapefruit sized ridges of abdominal muscle that was for the first time seeming to move every so slightly as the figure started to breathe. Gently and ever so slightly at first but the breathing was noticeable and was getting deeper.

As the body of Jason Blaise lay isolated and immobile in a chair on a stage in an empty auditorium his mind clung to this figure of perfect masculinity enjoying it’s warmth and smell and size, feeling the beginnings of breath and life in the figure, the still totally black image on the large video screen at the back of the stage began to pulse with color and motion. The small pale men monitoring Jason and the equipment took notice of the awaited change in the display, looked at their watches, jotted some memos into their notebooks, turned on another recorder and settled in for the show. One even leaned back and took out a big bag of popcorn from one of the equipment shipping cases. A disapproving look from the other scientist went unnoticed.

Jason reveled in the feeling of hugging the back of this massive man who now breathed beneath him. Trying to get even closer, Jason wrapped his legs around the thighs of this Atlas. The hand around the waist dropped lower, feeling its way toward the crotch and the treasure to be found there. As expected, a stiff tube of warm flesh jutted forward from a scratchy tangle of dense hair. Its strength and stiffness would have made a perfect handle if he could have encircled it with his hand. Unable to totally grasp the pulsing member he slid his hand along it’s length and felt for the drum tight head. It was no surprise that the helmet at the end of that foot long schlong was actually hot to the touch, slimy with pre-cum and beating noticeably as hot blood rushed through it in a rhythm totally in sync with Jason’s own throbbing heart and the low thrumming of the audio in his ears.

The action of wrapping his legs around the Titan brought Jason’s own engorged cock deep between the crack of the boulder-like glutes. Without thinking, and with animal abandon, Jason started to hump the man god he rode. Inevitably the motion found it’s mark. Freely flowing pre-cum from Jason’s dick greased the way and with one lucky thrust it was buried to the hilt in a burning man sheath. The giant muscular figure inhaled sharply, gasped, arched it’s back, reached around behind Jason with it’s arms and forced his attacker deeper into the well.

The randomly colored flickering video screen flashed to total white for a moment then dimmed to a large blur which quickly sharpened to reveal a muscular man, the likes of which the surprised small pale men had never let themselves dare imagine. The figure on the screen was writhing in ecstasy, floating weightless in a field of black nothingness. From the head of that monster’s dick came copious globules of cum in a nearly continuous stream. Each globule sped away from the body and contracted into a wiggling vibrating spheroid and receded without deviation into the distance. The small pale men watched slack jawed forgetting even to take notes. Sexual fantasies had happened before but never with this degree of clarity, speed and unexpected form. Something unusual was happening.

Jason’s body too was writhing as much as it could within the restraints of the chair. Brief guttural, nearly inaudible grunts and moans came through the liquid filled gag and through the heavy helmet. Wet stains spread on the front of the tightly tented pants. After a minute or so of this reaction, Jason’s body slumped quietly, breathing slowly again, and the figure on the video screen opened it’s eyes. •