By WBHunk

The Hulk's been a favorite of mine since day one--the idea of raw power, of losing all your inhibitions, of becoming a different person....that's growth.

I suppose I ought to introduce myself, although with what I've become, I guess it doesn't make any difference. I've been used to not having an identity since day one, though. I was found on the doorstep of a ranch house one snowy day, wrapped in a blanket and placed in a tiny basket, just another nameless kid dropped and dumped. Charlie and Nancy Reming were good enough to give me a home and a future.

I was raised a cowboy, just like old Charlie. Nancy died when I was four, and he never married again, unless you count Miss Jackie Daniels. I've been on a horse since I was three and never missed a day of work since. Went to school as long as I had to, and went to college out in the West Texas sagebrush with a bunch of onery cows and horses for profs. It's not an easy life, but if you've never known different, you don't care much anyway. Charlie died the day after I turned eighteen; when I settled up the bills, all I had left were a truck, trailer, and horses enough to fill it. Went to rodeoing, but when my luck turned sour, I figured it was either settle or starve. I drifted into New Mexico and caught a job managing a ranch for an owner in least that's where my checks came from, since I never actually saw him. Just me, 100 cows, and 1000 acres. I ate when I was hungry, slept when I could, and did what I had to to keep going.

About March was when the stranger drifted to my door. I had just finished spring roundup and was as gant as desert grass when he came up to the bunkhouse and asked for some food for work. Sounded a lot smarter than the average desert trash, but I could've cared less about brains as long as he could drive a fencepost. So, in exchange for some old cow meat and all the beans he could handle, I got a hired hand. He and I went to work right away fixing the old cross fence, keeping the windmills running, and every chore that came up. You work without a shirt a lot in 105-degree weather, and it didn't take much looking to figure out he was checking me out every time I stripped and got some stock tank water on my chest. I'm proud of my 200-pound hairy body, and as long as he stayed in his house, I didn't care what he thought. I knew what he was doing at night, especially when he thought he was sneaking out. He'd try to leave all quiet-like, get a horse, and head to the way-back pasture, hard by that old abandoned Army base, just sit on a rock, and look down at the burned-out bunkers and cratered ground. I followed him twice, but after that I figured he could lose sleep--not me. Nothing to see out there anyway. Locals said it was a big base back in the '70s, but then one day, everyone just up and left. There were rumors that some experiment had gone bad, but nobody knew for sure and I wasn't wasting time figuring it out.

About July, he started leaving more often at night and getting less done day by day. Finally I got sick of it, laid in wait, and cussed him out good when he was coming back at dawn, telling him that he could work or get his ass off this place. I could tell he was thinking for the rest of the day. At noon, when I pulled off my shirt and sat under the only shade tree for miles, he stayed out in the sun, but he gave me a look like a hungry coyote eyeing the calves. That night, he came over to my cabin and said we had to talk. I sat down on the steps--and the bastard sat right down next to me and started rubbing my shirt. I took his hand off and told him in no uncertain terms to go back to his place. He got this funny look in his eye and put his hand down to my business end. I shoved him back quick and told him if he did that one more time, he'd find out just how mean I could be. He kind of giggled and touched me again. Ten feet of rolling later, he managed to stop swirling up the dust on the ground. Two steps later, I had him picked up by the collar and putting his 5'5 on a level with my 5'10...and then.....

His eyes turned green--I mean, grass in the springtime, glowing GREEN. I was so surprised, I dropped him...and he was still looking me in the eye...and then DOWN at me. I took one step back and stared as his shirt tightened, what little muscle he had magnified and growing like snakes under the cloth, seams bursting left and right as his arms blew open his sleeves. His hands expanded even as his shirt front tore apart, two massive pecs like the Rocky Mountains shooting out almost into my face, two huge nips like granite upthrusts. The fragments of his boot leather stung my shins as his boots tore apart, massive feet blasting through like cattle in a gate, the old pair of Levis he was wearing shredding as his legs surged free, his ass and thighs blowing up like some obscene balloon, corded and covered with muscle. I turned on my boot heels, but even as I did, his gigantic hands shot out, holding me helpless in an iron grip, turning me around to face him. I stuttered incoherently as he smiled at me, his teeth brilliant white against a emerald background, his face twisted and distorted, but immensely manly. I felt something solid between my legs, me straddling it like a fence rail. He held me tight, even as I fought him, arms pinned helplessly to my side, and spoke with the rumble of a mountain thunderstorm.....

"Hulk want pleasure".

I looked down..and saw I was astride a massive cock...nearly two feet long and solid as oilfield pipe. His two balls, the size of basketballs, sat just at my knees, crashing against them like stone. With one finger he opened my jeans and, leaning over, kissed me hard, his tongue forcing its way between my lips. I wanted to slug him as hard as I could, just get away, whatever, but as his tongue worked its way into my mouth, I felt myself getting dizzy. My own cock surged to life between my legs, pain shooting through my groin as it rammed into his rock-hard abs. He looked down, smiled, and raised me crotch level to his lips. With one quick huff, he sucked it into my mouth and worked it like a rope, tongue wrapping completely around it and pulling it dry. Almost without warning, I shot my load down his throat. He brought me down to his eye level and smiled.

"Hulk like. Do to Hulk" and set me down in front of his manliness. I hesitated..and he grabbed my head between two fingers, used his other hand to open my mouth, and shoved it on in. I gagged, blood coming off my lips as his steel cock forced its way down, swallowing his cock just past the head, his body pumping against mine. I knew I was going to die, but even in my pain, I wanted this. I fought and grabbed his cock, wrapping whatever I could around it, using my throat muscles to work his head. I felt the ground shake as he moaned with pleasure, a sudden hum from his balls, audible like locusts in summer. I felt the rumble as his cock stiffened, the mighty river of cum about to break loose. I braced myself and let my mind go dark as he shot load after load into me, cum foaming out my mouth, glowing green, dripping all over me, distending my stomach. I screamed in pain as my internal organs ruptured from the pressure, the sound only coming out as red bubbles against the green as his cock surged and jerked, filling my throat, swinging me around in a jerky sex dance. Finally finishing, he pulled me off his cock and lay my swollen body on the ground. He kissed me gently, my blood staining his green lips, caressed me gently, and with one leap was away.

I knew I had to get up, and somehow I did, crawling on my swollen belly to the house, the stars dancing crazily through the red haze that was clouding my vision. I got inside, slamming the door behind me, and forcing myself to my feet. The reflection from the door mirror almost made me pass out--body swollen, bruised, blood from my lips and nose. I pulled myself up on a chair and stood up, looked over one more time, and kissed the world goodbye, blood pooling on the floor at my feet.

And then it stopped.

I looked over at the mirror and my jaw dropped. The cuts and bruises were shrinking miraculously even as I stared, my vision refocusing, my body impossibly regenerating its energy. My belly, distended with internal bleeding, shrank back even as I watched. I remember thinking I had to call some kind of authorities, and started toward the phone, but then....I felt this burning sensation on my cock. I reached down to stroke it, and almost yelled with joy at the sensation. I tried again...then more, each stroke a surge of ecstasy. I felt a sudden energy course through my body, my cock stiffening, incredibly tense, pushing against my Wranglers like it never had before, my balls cramped tightly in my crotch. With a sudden tear like a rifle shot, my cock tore through the front of my jeans, pushing out, growing impossibly longer....and GREEN like the desert after rain. I reached down...and my hands were enlarging, becoming more massive with every second, veiny, muscular.....I reached down and stroked my cock harder, feeling my whole body stiffen, my feet blasting from my boots, enormous, green, my shirt first confining, then straining, then exploding into dust as my pecs expanded outwards, impossibly huge, my lats flaring like an enormous green satellite dish, the floor falling away. My jeans stiffened, then blew open along the seams, my hard calves becoming huge muscle bulls, my thighs like redwood trees covered in steel cable. I looked in the mirror and screamed in pleasure as I hit a most muscular, my massive chest inflating and blowing out the back wall of the house with the sonic impact of my subhuman growl, my chest hair thickening and greening, my bush now a dense forest of green man-fur. I stroked every inch of my new body, keening in pleasure, glass shattering, the horses whinnying in fear and scattering outside as I stomped around, the buildings collapsing under the impact of my footfalls. I went back to my cock, one hand on it, the other fisting my beautiful green bubble butt, feeling the pressure build, holding it back...and then releasing it in a FOOM! Of green spray, blowing through everything in its path, carving a canyon in the sun- baked soil, a river of glowing green jizz. Even as the pressure subsided, I could feel my mind clouding, knowing I had to do it again. •

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