By Also_KnownAs

Wolfgang Amadeus Sarkov was a victim of his own name. Born to parents who dreamed of a son who could fulfill their grand musical ambitions purely through the strength of a moniker, Wolfgang was a man devoid of artistic talent, let alone a musical bent that might be able to shove him into the limelight.

Ironically, it wasn’t music but muscle that was his innate endowment, so he only missed music by a couple of letters.

His genetic make-up aided his nearly non-stop muscular development through his teens, but his strength of will and sheer discipline is what molded him into the perfected model of a man that entered the Russian army at the age of 18. At that point, Wolfgang stood 6-feet 4-inches high, weighed 284 lbs. and could lift cars by their bumpers and move them forcibly in cases where the owners would not do so themselves. Everyone who encountered him agreed that he was a formidable and amazing specimen of manhood, and that he would progress quickly through the ranks of the military, assuming they could find a uniform that fit his amazing muscular form.

Wolfgang was the first to cross the line in competitions, the first to volunteer for any mission, and was beloved of those he served with and over during his stint with the army. When the corps called for volunteers to undertake a dangerous experimental process, Wolf was first in line.

Cold Wars heat up. Superpowers contend with each other for domination. Regardless of what may be read in headlines or celebrated when walls come tumbling down, old adversaries remain suspicious. If the American government was continuing its advanced genetic research concerning the development of a race of supermen, the Russian government had little real choice in the matter.

Nor did the Chinese. But that’s another story.

Wolf and the handful of similarly muscular male specimens were given a battery of tests as if they were going to be launched into space. What diseases had they had? Was there a history of blindness, cancer, infectious disease or debilitating illness in their immediate family? Their bodily fluids were sampled and resampled, their physical capabilities and limitations tested and retested, they were observed under extreme stress and deprived of food and sleep and Wolf took it all in stride.

His body was a perfect machine. He had made sure of that. Everything worked absolutely perfectly.

They never told him what he would sacrifice in the cause of Russian glory.

The American scientists worked at their solution with one main assumption – they were creating Supermen. Men better than men. Take a man, multiply what he is by 1000, stir the mix, you get a pumped up, super strong, super large, super everything dude. Just watch out for the libido, because no one knows what happens to the head when you start playing with the body that much.

The Russians took a different path. The brain is a conduit of instruction. The body is the source of action. Perfect the body and break the other connections. Let nothing interfere with perfection of form. And eliminate anything you cannot predict.

The consequences of those two paths bring us now to the two men standing in a small room on an uncharted island in the Pacific that houses several large buildings and several dozen fantastically beautiful, powerful, muscular behemoths pretty much spending all their time making love to each other’s perfect, genetically enhanced bodies.

“Interesting,” said Carlos. He stared at a computer screen that displayed a variety of numbers, a couple of colorful fields, some words and an ever-changing display of charts, graphs and measurements that, pulled together, equated the total physical summation of the smooth-skinned, featureless, sexless, hyper-muscular specimen looking over his rather impressive shoulder.

“What is?”

Carlos looked over, meeting the other man’s gaze. “Well, everything. I can see here,” he said, pointing at the screen, “where they’ve attempted to subjugate masculine sexual properties, but they couldn’t quite succeed. Not entirely. They wanted to sort of siphon out part of your manhood but keep other aspects, and though theoretically it’s possible, there’s something else here that prevents it from being 100% successful.” He turned and smiled. “So there’s something to work with, Wolf. Something very promising.”

“You are about to say a ‘but’.”

Carlos nodded and sighed. “They were very thorough. They made some assumptions about my work with my colleague – some of the paths to perfection are obvious, of course, but the serum that has become Transform made a few of its own modifications along the way. I’m still not entirely sure how or why they occurred, these strange but agreeable anomalies, but the result is what you see before you. Your own mutation, on the other hand, has not progressed at all. You’re locked in a sort of stasis, as if you’ve been Tupperwared inside a freezer.”

Wolf’s look of confusion made Carlos smile. “Sorry. What I mean to say is that my mutation invites further mutation, in fact thrives on it. I need to be with others, I need to change others, to keep growing and improving. Each successive coupling with another man inflates and augments my own masculinity. We feed off each other and become more. Bigger, stronger, more powerful, more sexual, more everything. It is like a perfection stream, and every drop increases my strength.”

“But you are not perfect,” Wolf observed. “You are a slave to your drives.”

“An interesting perspective, but not one I share. At any rate, your own mutation isn’t evolving. It’s not programmed to, because it’s been artificially stopped in its tracks. And this,” he said, placing his warm hand against Wolf’s utterly smooth groin, “is the ultimate consequence of that action. You have been altered in mind and body to ignore sexual drives and desires. Obviously it would be the height of cruelty to create a soldier with a libido but no manner in which to satisfy those drives, so it appears that you have also been programmed – sorry, that’s not quite accurate but it will suffice for now – programmed to find sexuality and sensuality distasteful as well.”

“They have taken it away?”

Carlos nodded. “I assume that before this mutation, you were not what one might call a eunuch?” Wolf’s look of confusion prompted Carlos to clarify. “You had sex.” Wolf nodded, but a look of distaste crossed his handsome visage. “So you see? What you have lost is not only physical, but mental and emotional as well. They cut it all out in hopes of creating a single-minded super soldier without any distractions at all. But what they created is, you’ll pardon the bluntness, an impotent shallow nothing of a man. It is as if they built the most beautiful car on the lot, but there’s no motor inside.”

Wolf remained stoic as he asked, “What is solution?”

Carlos sighed. “I’ve only just diagnosed the problem. I’m not close to a solution just yet.”

Stan waited outside the main building at IGE with his new friend and lover Michael. The two had wasted no time at all becoming acquainted and Stan’s world was rocked on its foundations after only a few minutes alone with him.

He’d only been Transformed for a few days, and had experienced sex in his new body a handful of times with Bobby and Joseph, two of the most incredibly beautiful and capable young men he’d ever seen. Sex with them was beyond incredible, and he was still getting used to the joys that his new augmented body delivered in unending abundance but nothing in his life before or since the change prepared him for the overwhelming presence, intimacy, sexuality and authority of Michael.

First, there was the man’s body. It was unstoppable. It was perfect. It was sublime and colossal and powerful and sexual beyond measure. The first kiss they shared got both his dicks rock hard, and it never let up from there. Was sex supposed to feel like that? And last that long? And be that satisfying? Was it supposed to get better with every passing minute, with every touch and caress and suck and lick bringing him higher and higher levels of lustful abandon and sexual release?

Michael seemed to sense innately what Stan wanted and needed before he knew it himself. They were together in a sense he’d never known was possible. It felt like something beyond sex, and he found his cocks swelling and pulsing and gushing stream after hot, thick, sticky stream only to feel his balls swelling again and another fat load would fountain from him and he’d sink deeper still into some new untapped well of masculine sexual power.

He felt his muscles swelling again as they shared what they were. Michael was an extremely efficient conduit of Transform’s never satisfied hunger for more, and he gave as much as he got and taught Stan more in a few moments of passion than he’d learned in his entire life. Feeling Michael’s silken skin was an exercise in orgasmic delight. Holding his muscled form in your arms made you feel needed and wanted and powerful and alive. Michael’s deep voice whispering against your ear filled your head with sex that exploded out of every pore, every follicle, every fiber of muscle all over your immense and incredible body.

And now that they had concluded their sexual encounter, he could still feel Michael everywhere on his body. His mouth was still on one dick and his hand was still on the other. His cocks were firmly and deeply lodged in his ass. His mouth was on his lips, his tongue wrestling with Stan’s own, their muscled chests pressed together, Michael’s hands grasping his ass cheeks, kneading the flesh, Michael’s cum flowing over him like lava. He could smell the man inside his head.


Michael’s eyes looking into his own as they kissed on and on and on. Michael’s mouth sucking his balls inside, bathing them in spit as he skillfully jerked off both of Stan’s hard, log, fat cocks.

“Earth to Stan.”

Michael’s body laying atop his own. The feel of his soft fur, the scent of his skin, the…

“Stanley!” The sharp slap against his butt awoke him from his Michael worship as much as the sound of his name shouted into his ear.

“Ow! Shit! That hurt!”

“Here, this’ll help.” Todd placed his hand against Stan’s ass and a flood of The Touch passed between them. Stan could feel the sexuality of the other man like a hot shower drenching his body. He felt his cocks firm and rise. Todd huffed out a laugh and removed his touch. “Wow. You’re certainly… responsive.”

“I’ve been with Michael.”

“I thought you looked different. And you still have some feeling left in your ass? Aren’t you the remarkable dude. I remember my first encounter with Michael, and that was a long time ago. I imagine he’s improved since, but even then….” Todd whistled and wiggled his eyebrows. “How long did you manage to last?”

Stan looked confused. “Last?”

“It’s kind of a test. Sort of a measurement of one’s energy level.”

Stan shrugged. “Dunno. An hour maybe?” Todd just stared. “Is that good?”

“Fuck, dude. I’m amazed you’re still standing up.” He reached down and stroked one of Stan’s still erect pricks and was rewarded with a gush of lubing pre-cum. It streamed down the fat shaft and coated his hand. Todd smiled with surprise and lifted the glazed palm to his face to breathe in Stan’s scent before licking his salty essence off. “Mmm, nice.” He circled around behind Stan and wrapped the man in his muscled arms. “So, what are you waiting around here for?” Todd lowered his mouth to Stan’s neck and planted several soft kisses across his skin.

Stan shivered with delight. Todd was using all his skills and Stan had barely recovered from getting fucked by Michael. “A few friends are inside. I’m just… oh, Jesus, that feels amazing.” One of Todd’s prehensile cocks was pushing its way between the muscled halves of Stan’s ass, rubbing its firm, glossy head against his hole.

“Thanks. And these would be your friends with the curious lack of…” His second dick joined his first to demonstrate Todd’s distinct abundance of what Wolf and his men were deficient in. Stan welcomed Todd’s twins inside with eager acceptance.

He gasped as the dual cocks attacked his prostate. “Yes.” Todd’s hands moved down Stan’s muscled form, across the rippled expanse of his belly, through the soft curls of pubic hair and passed floods of The Touch into each of his pricks. “Oh, fuck.”

“I believe I am, Stan. Unless I’m doing something terribly wrong.” Todd licked his earlobe and pushed his tongue inside Stan’s ear canal, slurping loudly. He whispered, “You’re amazing. I knew you would be when I saw you in the glade.”

“Thank you.” Stan’s knees were shaking. Pleasure was flooding into him.

“Don’t mention it.” Todd grinned and strengthened his embrace and launched them both from the ground. Stan felt himself becoming weightless as they lifted into the blue sky to continue their explorations of each other’s bodies and unlimited capacities for sexual ecstasy, twisting and turning in the warm breezes high above the treetops. •

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