I squirmed in my seat, my dick jostling against my massive quads.

I’d gotten in the habit of throwing a condom over the end most days to keep the pre under control, though its near-constant flow was a perpetual reminder of the state of both my mind and body. A persistent trickle sometimes inching up to a full on flow that volume-wise became unmanageable if I didn’t change out the rubber at least every few hours.

A distinctly slimy water balloon filling all the more quickly thanks to the man seated beside me.

Fuck he’s hot. And I’m hot. Like, both horny and temperature, all the time. The horniness never really calmed down, the white noise of an overloud TV filling my brain and making it hard to focus on much else. But then, why would I? Could I? Should I?

Nah, hehehe.

I rolled down the window and let my arm hang out while the other hand idly stroked the head of my over-thick donkey dick. I glanced at the prominent vein running along my bowling ball bicep, leading to my ham hock forearm, gave it all a flex.

I grinned and grunted. Boss looked over at me with a smirk and I found myself thinking about how fortunate I was to have found him.

Someone who not only reveled in my huge size(s) but encouraged me to make the most of it while egging me on at the same time. Since the first thing people notice about me is my body he taught me it’s my gateway and my currency, that my number one focus is to keep it fed, keep it growing, keep it satisfied.

Everything else? Unimportant.

Big dick, big body, small brain, small problems.

“Big dick, big body, small brain, small problems,” I mumbled.

Boss chuckled, “You talkin’ to yourself over there, boy?”

I looked at him and grinned the stupid grin he loves so much.

He nodded knowingly, “A good conversation from the sounds of it. Simple and straightforward?”

“Heh, yeah Boss, you know it!”

Flex. As best I could in the smallish cab of his jeep anyway. Well, small for me.

Boss smiled wider, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Fuck you’re beautiful boy, you’ve turned out incredible, better than I could’ve imagined.” He placed his hand on the back of my neck and squeezed. “My good boy.”

I let out a deep moan. “Oh fuck,” I breathed, bucking my hips involuntarily, my cock swelling harder in its stretchy encasement, balls rolling and aching for release. I’d worn all white spandex as instructed, from home to here. In the cab, in the airport, on the plane. The stares energized me, drove me, reminded me of what I was and who I was for.

“Boss! I’m… I’m gonna…”

“No.”

And the dam held. It was so ready to break, but it held. I gasped and relaxed, only slightly, ass falling back into seat as my libido calmed from a maelstrom to merely a storm. The way he could do that excited me, revving me up like a jet engine only to bring me down like a 4-story dropped piano. Part of me also hated when he did it, since every orgasm felt better than the last - blowing my load felt so fuckin’ good.

Like the last time I came, I was… I was standing with Boss in… and there were…

I shook my head like a dog, pressing the heel of my palm to my temple. “Fuck… what?”

I felt Boss squeeze the back of my neck again, pulling my attention. I let out a moan then sucked in a long breath. His touch was soothing, realigning, everything. He looked concerned so I let out a low chuckle and rubbed my dick again, rolling and stretching my neck, “Sorry Boss, that was just… got a bit intense is all.”

He raised a brow, “I get it, boy. Those base urges can really take hold of you, eh? And no restrictions at home means blowing your load whenever you want. But this ain’t home.”

I nodded, he was right. I could cum a dozen times a day if I wanted, or more. And he knows that’s not special. The everyday isn’t special.

But him? He’s special. This was special.

And so the dam held.

The drive from the airport passed in a blur, as most did for me. My focus was always elsewhere as my mind wandered to flexing this muscle or that, idly enjoying my cock, generally existing as a physical being moving through a too-fast world without a care other than getting from point A to point B.

Soon we pulled up to Boss’ place, an unassuming house in the suburbs.

I bumbled my way out of the jeep, always an awkward maneuvering required wherever I went and whatever I did. I was already big when I met Boss, and putting on a good 40 lbs. since meant moving through spaces and things not built for people like me. And now nearly a stone’s throw away from 300? It wasn’t gonna get easier, but my cock throbbed at the thought.

“Hehehe, fuckin’ freak.” I self-affirmed as I grabbed my bags and followed Boss in.

I stepped carefully through the door, making sure to avoid slamming my shoulder into the frame. I took a few steps in and set down my stuff, surveying the entry and living room attached to it. It was a nice enough place, kinda bland and very middle income, but nice. I stretched a bit, flexed a bit, groped myself a bit and let out a grunt. “Where’s my room, Boss?”

He’d already walked farther in, to a doorway adjoining the hallway next to the kitchen. He placed his hand on the knob and I went to walk toward him, but he held up a hand. I stopped.

“Strip,” a stern face.

I started with my shoes and socks, a challenge of their own when you’ve got muscle upon muscle blocking your reach and affecting your flexibility. I was huffing and puffing within moments but managed as I always do, bumping into the wall as I nearly fell over. Then began the laborious task of peeling off the drum-tight spandex covering my body, the second skin I wore everywhere since my wardrobe at this point was made up of nothing else. Boss’ doing of course, drilled into me until I was uncomfortable in anything looser, always on display.

As I pulled down my tights my log of a cock sprung free, its condom attaché swinging heavy as it’d been filling up for a few hours now. I let out a moan as it always felt so good to have it in the open air, sticking out proudly, defying gravity as my grapefruit-sized balls hung below. They’d slowly move of their own accord, lifting and falling, gently roiling in their own impatience as they waited for the next opportunity to empty.

I stood back up, ready for Boss. All of me.

He whistled and nodded, “You got hairier.”

I looked down, running my fingers over the furry fat-softened cobblestones of my abs as I admired my hairy forearms and hands at the same time. I had a bulked out look to me most of the time, like I was constantly in the off season, focused only on putting on mass and getting bigger - which I was, so I always had that bit of fat on me. But I didn’t mind, I was used to it. Besides, what cut of beef’s any good without a little fat?

My hand ventured down to the generous bush of my cock, a jungle of pubes that did nothing to diminish the sheer size of what jutted out from them. The thicket spread in pretty much all directions, connecting with the fur running down my legs and between them whilst venturing up to the hairy expressway over my front. My pecs were well furred, connecting across to my pits and up onto the dusting on my shoulders. While a couple of solid patches graced my lats on the back to compliment the one above my ass, waterfalling over my glutes.

“Boy?”

My attention snapped back. “Sorry Sir!”

He stared a moment longer and I shrugged with a grin. “I think it’s hormones.”

Boss guffawed and shook his head. “Must be, boy. Must be.”

He opened the door and gestured. My footfalls sounded heavy as I walked toward him, cock bobbing. As I reached the door I could see the stairway leading down to the basement, lit red.

He held up a hand again. “Take that off,“ he pointed at the condom holding onto my cock head for dear life.

“Boss, I’ll make a mess…”

“That’s alright,” he replied. Then, staring into my soul, “Horny animals are messy sometimes.”

A shiver of energy washed over me and my cock throbbed, burping out more pre in response to challenge the condom one last time. I nodded and gently removed it as I’d done hundreds of times before, tying it off like a balloon. Boss held out his hand so I placed it there, where he gazed thoughtfully at it for a second or two then reached over to set it on the kitchen counter.

“Go.” He gestured again. “To the bottom of the stairs plus two steps, then wait for me there. You may look around but do not move, do not touch yourself. Understood?”

“Yes, Boss!”

I slowly walked down the stairs, thick wood slats that croaked and complained under my weight. I had to turn slightly sideways as the stairway was narrow with exposed framing, I didn’t wanna bump up against it and give myself a splinter. The look of the house upstairs belied the state of this stairway and, as I could soon see, the basement - unfinished concrete floor and wood-joist ceiling, with exposed foundation here and visible insulation there. The house was older than it had initially appeared, and the basement was mostly open and spacious, bathed in red light.

I got to the bottom of the stairs then took two more steps, stood and stopped.

My breath hitched.

Spread out before me was the dungeon I’d only seen photos of up until this point. Organized and detailed with more implements and surfaces to play with and on than I could count. A wall of floggers, whips, and other things I didn’t recognize. A sling tucked in one corner, a massage table in another, a bed coated in rubber against another wall. Several mirrors, leaning against the walls or stuck to the ceiling.

The exposed concrete was mixed with smooth rubber flooring here and there, strategically placed for comfort and cleanliness. A closed metal cabinet stood off to one side along with a wooden table, mostly empty save for some very challenging looking dildos. Chains and ropes hung seemingly everywhere, some loose and placed with purpose, others bundled awaiting their moment to shine.

“Fuck me,” I drawled, taking it all in.

“Some might say you already are, boy.”

I flinched. How long had I been standing there? I glanced down at the small pool of pre at my feet, lazy strings falling from my slit. That long, at least.

He moved around me, faced me a couple feet away. I gasped inwardly.

Leather boots, side-zip leather assless chaps, white jockstrap, leather vest, and leather gloves. He looked incredible, the spitting image of a Tom of Finland man and my breath quickened as my heart picked up pace. With his arms and chest visible I could see how well built he was, nowhere near anything like me of course but he clearly took care of himself, and had an air of beefy dominance about him and the way he carried his body.

Especially in leather.

“Boss…”

In a flash he was on me, one hand around the back of my neck the other over my mouth. I breathed in the scent and let out a low whimper, and despite my surprise I’d stayed in place. His voice was heavy in my ear, deep and commanding.

“Down here boy, you don’t speak. You growl, you whimper, you moan. You do as I say and not an inch more. This is a sacred place and I expect a beast like you to show respect. Your freedom, your very being, is in my hands now.”

He retreated slowly, I was trying not to shake. Whether out of fear or excitement it was hard to tell - well, no, not hard at all. It was, in fact, very very hard indeed and the puddle of pre was only growing bigger, though Boss paid it no mind.

He surveyed me, hands behind his back. “Understood?”

“Yes, B-” the crack of the whip cut the words in my throat. Where the hell had that come from??

He leaned forward menacingly. “Clearly boy, it wasn’t. I’ll ask a second time and you fuck up again you can march right back up those stairs.”

He stood frozen and staring, and for a moment I was truly afraid. But I’d also never been so turned on in my life, I was surprised I hadn’t blown a load already! Once again he stepped back, whip at his side, eyeing me.

“Understood?”

From me, a deep grunt and a nod. From him, a smile.

“Good boy.”

A wave of pleasure and relief washed over me, my knees nearly buckled. Fuuuck those words were everything! I could die happy if they were the last thing I ever heard, and my cock wholeheartedly agreed as it continued its determined leaking.

He tossed the whip over onto the bed, then pointed at the floor. At first I thought he was pointing out the growing puddle that was licking my toes, but, “Knees.”

I dropped immediately, not even minding we weren’t even on some of the rubber matting. At this moment I’d do near anything for this man, he was becoming my world, my ultimate focus, the drive for my existence. Exactly what he wanted, and I loved knowing that.

For him, I was elevated and diminished. More and less. What I needed to be.

I was breathing faster as I watched him methodically take his hardening cock out of his jockstrap. It was beautiful, uncut, a good length but thick, and his balls were big compared to average. A couple of goose eggs holding pure nectar for someone like me, something like me.

I let out a moan and found myself reaching for my cock, whereupon he kicked my hand away without hesitation but also without anger. “No boy, you know the rule. I know this is a lot for you but I need you to focus.”

There was irony in that. I was focused alright, I couldn’t take my eyes off him! Off his dick and balls, the space between his legs, the way his pubes bushed out under the buckle of his chaps. I could smell him. The need that was building inside of me felt raw, primal, uninhibited. I let out another moan, low and gutteral, my body vibrating from the effort it was taking not to launch myself on that cock, to taste it, to worship it, to…

“Go ahead, boy.”

And I was on it. I launched myself forward, scraping my knees some but not giving the slightest of fucks. I wanted that in my mouth, and in no time I had him slicked down from his tip to the bottom of his balls, spit covering him, dripping. I hadn’t realized I’d been salivating so much, had I been drooling?

The thought flitted by with little recognition. My purpose now was cock. His cock. I reached around and grabbed the lightly-furred globes of his ass cheeks and drove it into my face, breathed in the musky wonder of his pubes, feeling immediately high and joyful and fulfilled. I could taste his precum, I could taste him, I was connected to him in a way only a Boss and his boy could be.

I let out a blissful whimper, pistoning him in and out of my mouth. His hand on the back of my head. “Good boy, oh fuck… very good boy.”

The words. He said the words! I could feel the coolness of the pool of pre on my knees below me, could feel the waves of it traveling up my shaft as my cock throbbed rhythmically. I couldn’t cum though, no, had to wait until he did at least! If I was allowed, I hoped I was allowed, oh fuck please let me be allowed!

As I worshiped at the altar of Boss’ cock he continued rubbing my hair, sometimes reaching down and feeling my thick traps and boulder shoulders. Every so often he’d let out an appreciative groan of his own, but whether he was nearing climax I couldn’t tell - nor did I care.

“You’ve become quite the animal, eh boy?”

I nodded in my head, but the rest of my thoughts and mental drive were otherwise cock.

“So big. With all that muscle, and that dick, those balls. Just a bit farther to go…” His voice dropped lower, nearly a deep whisper. “We need you a bit bigger boy, you wanna get even bigger?”

I moaned and sucked, slurped and drooled. My body was heating up, my muscles tensing and flexing as I lost myself to this man. My back surged wider, my shoulders broader, my traps lifted farther up my neck to near touching the bottom of my ears. My arms thickened and felt even more cumbersome as I tried to hold onto Boss’ ass, his legs, my hands fondling his balls and dick.

My legs shifted apart slightly, I adjusted my knees, as my quads and hamstrings grew to truly inhuman proportions, topped with the largest set of glutes anyone would likely ever see. I was becoming behemoth, a monster, a beast.

Big.

“Bigger than big. Yeah, that’s my fuckin’ muscle freak, look at you,” he had a villainous edge to his voice, the timbre of a man possessed. “Forget clothes, forget shoes, huge-ass feet on you with mitts to match.”

My feet stretched, felt strange, a distant part of my mind knowing they were growing to a size far beyond what my five-foot-ten body would normally accommodate, could feel my calves tightening as the soles grew. And my hands, aching, thickening, to the point I couldn’t hold Boss’ cock with one anymore cause there was no room for my mouth. I resolved to place them back on his ass, feeling them envelop and cover it to a degree they hadn’t before.

“And animal’s gotta be hairy, so fuckin’ hairy boy. Inhumanly hairy, thick and long so you need brushin’ and groomin’ like the proper beast you are.”

The itching was, for a moment, nearly unbearable. I could feel the existing hair on my body forcing its way out of my skin, while new growth filled in practically everywhere and thickened places it was already growing. I could feel my legs, my chest, my forearms, my back and shoulders all getting extra attention. I groaned and shifted uncomfortably, feeling myself getting hairy, or prob’ly furry, could feel the air moving over me in ways I couldn’t before.

Did I have any bare skin left? Did I care right now?

Fuck no! I thought, but growled long and deep instead, reverberating through his pelvis.

Boss grabbed at the hair on my shoulders, the back of my neck, the way he pulled and gripped felt so foreign but also perfectly wonderful.

“Fuck… Fuck boy that’s it… you’re nearly there.”

His hips were pistoning now as he began fucking my face more earnestly, he was getting closer.

“Fuckin’ gorilla boy. People gonna call you that. My gorilla. Gonna think you escaped from the… the fuckin’ zoo, you fuckin’ freak!”

My upper body was more rigid now, the face-fucking forcing me into lustful concentration. But my body was shifting, waves of heat and tingling. I felt my back hunch as it lifted higher, my arms falling heavier and more angular. My jaw hurt, my head hurt. What was… fuck, was I…?

“Fuckin’... stupid fuckin’ animal!”

He cried out loudly and I instinctively drove my face into his crotch, taking his cock into my throat as deep as I could, growling with heaving breaths. He jerked and unloaded as I sucked and swallowed, everything else forgotten in that moment as I fulfilled my purpose. The taste of him was like nothing I could’ve imagined, nectar didn’t begin to describe it, and the flavour mixed with the giddiness in my skull, sloshing around, buzzing and bouncing.

A few moments later I felt his body begin to relax, the jerking motions subsiding as I realized he’d had a death grip on my shoulder hair. But it hadn’t bothered me, I had plenty to hold onto.

I was dazed. I pulled back with a slurp, leaving him clean save for some very drooly balls which I gently licked and tidied for him. I looked up with what I imagine was a really fuckin’ dopey grin on my face.

I grunted. Boss grinned wickedly. “Good boy.”

He looked down at the floor beneath us and let out an amused grunt of his own.

I tilted my head down and stared.

I’d cum. A lot. A few feet of heavy splattering between his legs.

But, he hadn’t told me to, and… I was still awake… didn’t I usually… was that right?

My brain was stacking blocks like a toddler, trying to piece together a puzzle I knew but had never seen.

“Boy.”

Head back up, focused. Present, but not. Brows raised, eyes innocent with lust.

Yes Boss?

“Look.”

He gestured with his chin to a floor-to-ceiling mirror against the wall by the bed. Reflected back was Boss looking hot as fuck in his leather, dick hanging out, standing over… over a…

Holy… holy fuck.

The drive was short but long enough for me to be squirming in my seat the whole way, still adjusting to the enhanced sensitivity of my skin and body.

Every movement felt like a reminder and an announcement, my whole being poured into stretchy fabric that screamed my size - both muscle and cock - to myself and the world. I kept running my hands over my chest, my arms, my legs, adjusting the position of a seam here and admiring the feel of a bulge there.

Boss kept glancing over, every so often letting out an approving chuckle. “You okay there, boy? Ya got ants in your tights or what?”

I blushed as I ran a hand up and down the ridiculous shape of my shaft and balls. Though I was in a way sheepish about how I felt and looked I was acutely aware my brain was fighting a losing battle, falling prey to the sheer physicality of my being as it was pushed increasingly to the forefront.

“This is… I’m so big, Boss. I mean, my dick’s usually distraction enough but this… Like, everything’s so sensitive and I’m just, I’m big and…” I trailed off, losing the words for a moment, continuing to marvel at myself.

“Just a bunch of meat?”

I smirked and grinned a bit stupidly, lifting my arms into a momentary double biceps, twisting toward him. “Yeah Boss, your meat!”

“Think you can live with that, boy?”

“Oh fuck ya, Boss!” My hands went back to my cock as I lifted my hips to press my shaft into them, feeling it flex, a telltale pulse of pre traveling from root to tip and collecting in the makeshirt reservoir that was saving the leggings from being soaked hip to knee.

Boss gave me a bit of side eye, a smirk on his lips. “Careful boy, I expect you on your best behaviour. No losing control of that cannon, y’hear?”

I pursed my lips and moaned but resisted further ministration. “Yes Boss.”

“I don’t mind my dopey boy…”

Flashes and fireworks in my head, I tilted my head back and laughed as I stretched my arms out in front of me into something like a most muscular, crunching my abs and pecs together. The loss of a few IQ points in that moment barely registered.

“...feeling his oats tonight, as he should. But he can’t be so dopey he loses track of Boss. Right dopey boy?”

I groaned and grinned and stuck out my tongue, flexed a bicep, looking and feeling the part of an overgrown frat bro who hadn’t been laid in weeks, the majority of his brain rightfully living between his legs. “Fuuuuck dude!”

Boss muttered something under his breath, then looked serious. “Boy!”

I sobered a moment, arm dropping, but still grinning like an idiot. “Yeah Boss?”

“You won’t lose track of yourself. You’ll trust your Boss tonight. Right?”

Double biceps again. “Yeah Boss!”

“Good boy.”

I flexed harder, I flexed everything. Even my dick, hehehe. “Fuuuck yeah!”

We pulled into a parking spot at the curb a short way from the club and as Boss killed the engine I opened the door and awkwardly clambered out onto the sidewalk. I definitely wasn’t used to the newly-cumbersome nature of my body and something as simple as getting out of the Jeep proved a challenge, though that may have also been due to diminished brain capacity.  I managed to catch myself after a couple heavy, clumsy steps, straightening up and stretching, flexing again.

“Hehehe, fuck I’m big, jeezus…” I said to no one as I waddled to catch up to Boss who was already several yards ahead, tugging my shirt down at the waist and repositioning my overgrown cock and balls for no reason other than to give them further unnecessary attention.

As we got closer to the bar and around other people I immediately felt the stares. A twinge of anxiety bubbled up from my stomach and I felt my heart rate increase, I felt myself sweat, and I felt a jolt of excitement shoot from the root of my cock down its length - tho maybe that was just more pre? I smirked despite my nervousness and gave one guy a wink as he passed in the other direction, hearing him whisper “holy shit” to his friend as they glanced back at me. Music to my horny ears, I let out a chuckle and a groan.

Boss’ voice cut through, “You’ll be the star attraction tonight, boy.”

“Yeah, I know Boss. I can feel it already, guys fuckin’ staring! It’s awesome!”

He placed a hand on the back of my neck and gave it a firm squeeze. “And you’re on my leash tonight, invisible though it might be. When I give it a tug, ya better heel.”

“Yes Boss!” 

The bouncer eyed me as he scanned our IDs, but there was no denying my face was still mine. Stronger jawline maybe, more of that roided look in general that can’t be avoided when you’ve stacked on some 50 extra lbs. of muscle. I flexed an arm and grinned, leaning a bit to flare my lat and really pop my delt, “I’ve bulked up some since that pic.”

The bouncer chuckled. “I’m sure you have, bro.”

“Yeah, bro! Wanna hit 270 by year end!”

The bouncer rolled his eyes with a smile, waving us in. “I’m sure you will ya meathead, get in there.”

I shuffled in behind Boss, feeling huge in the narrow entry, then stepped out into the bar proper.

The place was energetic but not too busy yet, we’d arrived before the rush and guys were mingling in groups here and there or wandering the more open spaces. The music was thumping, the lights were flashing. Oh yeah, this felt good.

“Nice place, Boss!” I strode in confidently, well aware of several pairs of eyes on me which I was actively acknowledging and ignoring at the same time. Cock of the walk, emphasis on cock.

Boss then had a hand on my shoulder, guiding me toward the bar. “I’m gonna grab a drink.”

The bartender was cute, an alternative kinda guy with eyebrow and snake bite piercings, dark blue mohawk pulled back with buzzed sides. He was on the shorter side, shirtless, fit but not big, nipple piercings too. Cute and compact, I was envisioning throwing him over my shoulder just to show him how strong I was, or lifting him up by the legs and pressing him against a wall while making out with him, letting his hands explore my body, running up and down my giant shaft and…

“Fuuuuuuck…” I glaze-eye groaned as my hard dick burped up some more pre. When I really got going I could feel it running down the length in waves, it could get distracting if I was really worked up.

Boss eyed me, then looked at the bartender, then back at me. “Down, boy.”

I blinked away the horny fog, somewhat, and refocused on Boss. “Sorry, Boss. Just uh… my mind kinda wandered…”

He smirked, “No surprise there, you’ve got half as much as you did when you got here.”

I chuckled stupidly and nodded. “Yup, big muscles small brains over here, hehehe!”

Boss turned back to the bartender, “I’ll have a Jack and coke.”

“And I’ll have…”

“No boy,” Boss cut me off with a raised finger. “With the mass you’ve put on you’ll bankrupt me trying to get drunk. You’ll be fine without booze, won’t you dopey boy?”


I barked out a laugh, I think my eyes crossed a bit, my dick jumped. But I persisted, “Aw c’mon Boss, I can just like, drink it really slow or whatever right?”

Boss shook his head, finger still in my face. I wanted to lick it. “No boy, I think you’ll be just fine without it. Dopey boys feel drunk all the time anyway, don’t they?”

My mind swam further, the room felt off kilter, I groaned and chuckled deeply as I rubbed my dick openly. Fuck I had such a big dick, and so big muscles too! “Aww fuck, okay Boss, ya you win. I feel fuckin’ great!”

The bartender was glancing back and forth at our exchange, eyebrow piercing raised, “So, just the Jack and coke then?”

I lifted a hand with a dismissive higher-than-it-needed-to-be wave, other hand still actively rubbing my bulge without a thought, “Oh ya bro, all good. Gotta listen to Boss, amirite?”

The bartender gave a bemused glance at Boss and nodded. “Yup, you got it bro.”

I grinned and was suddenly aware of my behaviour but also powerless to stop it, and found myself pulling a double biceps. “Fuck yaaa, bro!”

The bartender went about preparing Boss’ drink, who was leaning on one elbow on the bar watching me. I’d dropped my arms and was now distracted bouncing my pecs back and forth, one side to the other, chuckling vacantly. “I got such big muscles,“ I muttered to myself, less aware now of the stares while more aware of the pumping electricity and horny energy that inhabited my entire body. With less mental focus to distract me I was near wholly living inthe physical, for the feel of my own meat - all my meat.

Boss grabbed his drink and had his hand on the back of my neck again. We walked across the dance floor, now only home to a few eager dancers, to the opposite side. “Did you tip him good, Boss? I think he liked my arms, “ I quipped.

Boss gave my neck a squeeze. “And what if I didn’t, boy? Would you know the difference anyway?”

I gave that a hard think for a sec, then shook my head. “Hehehe, nah. I don’t think I could do numbers now anyway.”

We approached a small group of guys, four of them, drinks in hand and chatting each other up. As we got closer they slowly turned their attention to us. One dropped their jaw and simply said, “Holy fuck!”

“Hey guys,” said Boss, “how’s everyone doin’ tonight?”

“Jeezus christ he’s huge!” said another and I reflexively lifted my arms into a double biceps again. Fuck, I love my biceps!

“Well yeah, I mean, that too,” he said wryly, glancing up to my arms then down to the bulge in my tights. I dropped an arm while leaving the other flexed, grabbing my cock with the free hand and giving my firm bulge a good shake, “Ooh, sorry dude, didja mean my dick?”

He laughed and looked around the group, “I mean, don’t apologize, you’ve got nothing to apologize for!”

I relaxed. These guys were cool! They liked my bigness!

The first guy who’d said “holy fuck” turned to Boss, “So, is this…?”

Boss nodded proudly, grinning like a fox. “Yup, this is the boy. Just got in today, I’m showing him a night on the town. Y’all better be nice.”

A third in the group said, “Oh we’ll be very nice, don’t you worry about that! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a specimen quite like him before.”

I grinned wide, “Thanks dude! You’re a special man too!”

There was a beat then they all guffawed loudly. “Oh he’s funny! I like him!”

I didn’t get why they were laughing so hard but I laughed along, at least they liked me! Boss was simply watching on, sipping his drink, letting his friends take me in. They introduced themselves, but I immediately forgot their names, and soon after the conversation drifted away from me. But that was okay as I was continually distracted by my body and dick anyway so focusing on what everyone was saying was hard. They were talking about their work and traveling and other boring stuff.

At one point one of Boss’ friends ran his hand down my back. I let out an involuntary groan at the unexpected touch and my dick flexed. The guy pulled his hand away and I blushed, “Sorry bro, heh, I got kinda sensitive skin.”

“Oh no worries,” he said, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I chuckled, “Oh nah dude, it just feels really, really good. Caught me off guard.”

The rest of the group had stopped to watch our exchange. “Oh?” he said, “So you don’t mind if I do it again?” This time he ran his hand down my back while giving my bicep a squeeze and I let out a groan again, this time tensing my muscles and closing my eyes. Fuck that felt so good, my skin and body was alive like I’d never felt before.

“N… nah dude… that’s uuuh… fuuuck…” words escaped me, I was just grinning and vibrating like a dumbass.

Another of the guys stepped up to the other side of me. “I can help too, if you like.” He had a hand on my other arm, rubbing my chest across to my shoulder. I let out something like a whimper, tingling excitement dancing insistently everywhere their hands fell.

I glanced helplessly at Boss. He had his back against the wall, one arm folded across his body as he held his drink with the other, watching intently. His eyes were on fire, his teeth flashing in a predacious grin.

The other two guys were envious of the fun and stepped up to join, I was now surrounded as eight hands roamed up and down my body. I was breathing heavily, sweating, soaking through the skin-tight fabric in all the right places.

“Holy fuck he smells amazing.”

“It’s like the guy’s carved from granite or something!”

“Goddamn, he’s hung like a fucking horse…”

“C’mon, let’s see that flex again!”

Arms up, biceps peaked, delts lifted, lats flared. I grunted and huffed. More than one hand had found my cock and balls which were getting more than their fair share of the attention, or maybe just the right amount of attention. Yeah, hehehe, just the right amount for sure!

“What a good boy, so well trained!”

“Where do I get myself one of these, holy shit I need one…”

“He doesn’t need this shirt, does he?”

The last question was directed at Boss and if I’d been even remotely present I’d have seen him give his head a shake with a smirk, but at the moment I was flying high on the sensations coursing through my body. One of the guys gripped the bottom of my shirt and began sliding it up and over, losing purchase here and there due to the sweat and sheer size of me. Eventually I was free of it and I felt the cool air on my skin and then the hands again.

Oh fuck, the touching… on my bare skin… it was… I was…

I was hornier than I’d ever been in my life, I existed as nothing more than pleasure meat - pleasure for myself and pleasure for others.

As that thought skittered across my near-vacant, growth-buzzed mind, one of the guys had a grip on the waistband of my tights. He glanced at Boss, who nodded but gestured toward a darker corner. The guys continued to feel me up, shuffling me along, then forming a wall of bodies as I faced the corner with waistband guy now on his knees in front of me.

“Aw c’mon, why do you get to…?”

“Gimme a break Dan, you get more dick than any of us and you know it.”

“He’s right Dan, but also I think we’re gonna be playing with this toy awhile. You’ll get a turn I’m sure.”

I heard Boss’ earthy chuckle near me, to my left, as I felt the front of my tights slide down slowly. They rolled over the root of my dick, then the shaft, a ball popping free on the one side.

“Fuck, look at that, it’s actually real, holy shit.”

My thick, foot-long monster sprung free suddenly causing the guy at my feet to wince as it smacked him in the face, causing the group to giggle. Would’ve been funnier if he’d gotten a face full of precum, but the condom stayed fast even tho it held at least a few ounces of pre at this point.

Knees guy stared at it. “Are you shitting me? Is that for real?”

I guffawed stupidly, having a moment of dull cognisance, “Yeah dude, I make like… a lot of pre, cuz I got huge balls!”

Whoever was to my right said, “You sure do,” as he gave one of my balls a gentle squeeze, eliciting a hiss and moan from me. Knees guy carefully peeled back the condom as someone else said, “You better not spill any of that!”

Soon the condom was off and my dick was able to leak freely again. Knees guy passed off the condom and then his mouth was immediately over my slit, doing his best to fit the shaft between his lips and, more importantly, his teeth. My knees buckled a bit as his mouth made contact with my enlarged junk, the sensitivity was always sky high and I had sparks going off in my head instantly. I’d only cum what, an hour and a bit ago maybe? Felt like weeks and I was so ready to cum again, so ready to unload and feel the enormous release and wave of pleasure.

Eyes shut tight, existing only in this moment. Fuck I love my dick!

“Bet you’re feeling real good, boy. Real, real good.”

Boss’ voice in my ear, his hand on my neck. Even through the horny maelstrom I knew it was his. He had me exactly where he wanted me.

“Y… ye… nnnngh…” What was… how do words?

I could hear Boss grin, see his smile in my mind’s eye. “That’s my good boy.”

I yelped and shuddered. Whatever the other guys were doing at this point was completely lost to me, I was nothing more than a dick in a mouth and a voice in my ear. I instinctively lifted my arms to a double biceps, and if I’d had an ounce of awareness at that point I’d have felt a face in my right pit, a tongue running along my left upper arm, a pair of hands wrapped around running along my abs and teasing my nipples.

“Or should I say, good toy. Better be careful though, gonna cum away some more of those brains, aren’t ya?”

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck... I was gonna - I was gonna - cock and… ear fuck…

My balls were tensing up, I could feel them lift, knees guy was worshiping the end of my massive dickmeat like his life depended on it. Sipping on the nectar of a god.

“Such a good boy. My boy. My meat.”

Hands and fingers and tongues everywhere.

I was nowhere. I was rapture.

“Cum, boy.”

I threw my head back and the sound I made ripped across the bar, reverberating above the music, drawing attention we didn’t want but I had no wherewithal to care. I blasted knees guy, painted him with my load as he tried to gulp down what he could. I groaned loudly as my orgasm continued, the hands and tongues on pause as they witnessed the creation of a new masterpiece.

As the intensity waned and my load slowed I felt a wave of utter relaxation and fulfillment wash over me. My dick had done what it was built to do and that felt amazing, I felt amazing!

I started laughing stupidly, grinning moronically as my arms dropped, a subtle awareness returning as the guys muttered a disbelieving mixture of “holy fucks” and “holy shits” around me.

I felt a squeeze on the back of my neck, breath on my ear.

“Sleep, boy.”

A final thought flitted by my consciousness.

That was fuckin’ awesome, bro.

With my libido sated for the immediate moment and the mirror now an only somewhat smeary mess, I turned my attention to getting dressed.

Or, that is, I tried anyway. Aside from the foggy feeling in my head which I attributed to orgasm afterglow, every move I made was now a reminder of how much I’d grown. My lats rubbing against my arms, my thighs smashing together, the lessened mobility in my neck even, all of it a testament to this new truth - I was big now.

I found my eyes unsurprisingly drawn to the mirror again. How was that me?

How’d he do it?

I curled an arm into a flex, lifting my shoulder and flaring my lat, crunching my blockier abs instinctively as my other hand rubbed them lovingly. I followed the line of my wrist to my elbow, my thick and vascular forearm jammed up against my navel orange-sized bicep, the thick vein under it practically pulsing in appreciation. My pit hair sat deeper than before, nestled in that quadfecta of muscle where pec meets shoulder meets bicep meets lat.

I flexed harder and my face broke into a lewd grin. “Fuuuck…”

Even my face looked pumped somehow, swollen, reminding me of when I’d done a somewhat heavier cycle and threw a good amount of deca into the mix. That bloated, enhanced look that would raise brows at the gym and lead people to not ask questions they already knew the answer to. The buzzed head and beard added to the amped-up look, stacked on top of a thickened neck that led to an even thicker body oozing masculine energy.

Speaking of oozing, my cock was on full alert again. Granted that was its usual state, but giving away the extra level of appreciation it was feeling by going steel hard and increasing its pre output five fold. Despite having unloaded only moments ago, the strings stretching and dripping from cockhead to floor had picked up pace along with my self reflection, forming a puddle on the carpet I could see was quickly being absorbed.

That snapped me out of it. “Shit… shit shit!”

Cupping my dickhead to stem the flow I waddled over to my suitcase, clumsily unzipping it with one hand while trying not to spill the other. I rifled through a pocket and pulled out a condom, the extra large ones I liked after ordering them online and finding they were the best fit without strangling. Given I had to wear these things pretty much 24/7 I didn’t need them cutting off blood flow and turning me purple!

Strangling indeed.

With my free hand and my teeth I managed to rip the package open, and the few ounces of pre that’d pooled in my palm were quickly wiped on my poor, destroyed jeans. In a few seconds I had the condom over the end of my cock and the crisis was averted. A few tissues from the box on the bedside table took care of the carpet, at least as best it could.

With my focus on not turning the entire floor into a squishy slimefest my cock had calmed a bit, returning to its usual mostly-hard state and dripping lazily into the rubber.

I shook my head, still trying to shake the fogginess as I rubbed my eyes with my palms. It was like my awareness had shifted further into my physical being than it had been before. I was always aware of the feeling of my huge dick, especially if I hadn’t jerked off for a bit or was otherwise horned up. But now I had this big body to contend with too, jostling for space in my brain and making it harder to focus somehow.

“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath, scratching my balls and groping my chest. “Get it together dude, shit…” I stretched my arms overhead, shoulders bumping my ears for the first time, and shook it out to try and get my attention back.

I set my sights on the dresser drawers.

I started at the top, opening each drawer one by one to survey inside. Ankle socks to start, plain white and unexciting. But the remaining drawers…

You know that sound you make when something surprises you, like a little inward gasp, but then you breathe out in an amused huff because you’re also not surprised at the same time? That was what involuntarily left my mouth and lungs as I realized what the entire dresser was filled with.

Spandex. Drawer upon drawer of spandex.

My heart quickened, my dick flexed and burped up some pre. The permanent pump of my new muscular body was suddenly more prevalent in my mind again as I couldn’t help but imagine it wrapped in skin-tight shiny fabric, every curve and muscle popping, fully on display. Even though I wore spandex from time to time prior to gaining 40 lbs., this would be different - this body was meant for it.

There was an array of colours and pieces. Long sleeves, tank tops, tights, shorts, skimpy briefs and thongs, a cornucopia of smooth stretchable goodness waiting to be explored.

I scrunched my face with a grunt. Boss had only said “all white” with no indication of how much skin ought to be showing, though knowing how our interest in spandex aligned I’d guess he’d want more covered than less for our evening out. I began digging methodically through the options, settling on a plain long-sleeved shirt and a pair of tights, both white with the exception of a blue stripe running down the legs. I liked that, hopefully Boss wouldn’t mind.

No underwear though. That, I knew, Boss definitely wouldn’t mind.

“Boy?” he called, as if he’d read my mind.

“Sorry, Boss! Almost ready!”

Hastily I shucked my socks and threw on a new pair from the top drawer, then began working my way into the outfit. Like I said, I wasn’t new to spandex but my body moved differently now and lacked some mobility by comparison. The shirt went over my head, then I struggled to maneuver my meatier arms inside, stretching and pulling the fabric to accommodate. Once I had it mostly on I adjusted here and there before grabbing the tights. I slid them over my engorged calves and to my thick thighs partway on each side, working them over my feet until they were mostly in place above the knee.

I grabbed either side and pulled up to standing as my massive junk naturally got in the way, which wasn’t new. I settled everything in front and behind as best I could while my dick hung out, then once I was ready I pushed it to my left and shoved it into the taut fabric, being careful not to catch or pull my slowly filling preservoir. I tucked my balls in as well, positioning them comfortably in front. I pulled and stretched here and there until everything was smooth as silk.

My dick tensed and burbled again and I couldn’t help but give it a squeeze as I let out a moan.

This felt good. Really, really good.

Every inch of skin had a new sensitivity baked into it, firing off little reminders of the whole shape of my body with every movement. I stepped over to check in the mirror and let out a gutturral, “Oh fuck me…”

Each muscle now carved from white marble, moving and shining in the light, defined and displayed with absolute intention. I lifted into a double biceps and flexed my quads, marveling at myself. My cock had fully hardened again and my bulge in the spandex looked positively massive, etched onto my body in glorious and obscene 3D. This was a body that fully complimented that cock, that deserved that cock.

I flexed harder with a grunt, sticking out my tongue. I was gonna come again, I wanted to come again. I could probably do it without even touching myself. 

Hehehe, that’d be fuckin’ hot.

“Boy!”

I flinched and dropped my arms, blinking and shaking my head. One more glance in the mirror, then I sauntered my way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the living room.

He was actually in the kitchen when I got there, putting stuff in a blender. My stomach rumbled as I realized I hadn’t eaten since the snacks from the cute flight attendant. Fuck, what’d he think if he saw me now?

Boss regarded me with a raised brow over his shoulder, “Took you long enough.”

I blushed. “Sorry Boss, I uh… I got kinda distracted.”

He chuckled, snapping the lid on, “Oh I heard you.”

I jumped as the blender screamed, then stood silently as we waited for it to finish. I realized my arms were somewhat akimbo, that I was standing like I had muscles. Not just had muscles, but like I knew I had muscles and was a walking work of anatomical art that needed to be shown off.

Dick flex. More pre. Bicep twitch. Fuuuuck.

The blender wound down. “What’s that, Boss?”

“For you, boy, obviously. Thinkin’ like a meathead already, eh? Or maybe not thinkin’...” he teased while he poured the contents into a large, plastic cup. “That body’s gonna need a good dose of calories, protein especially, or you might go into a sort of shock. Your blood sugar’s gonna drop real quick what with having a new metabolism and all.”

He surveyed me up and down as he stepped over to hand me the cup. “Drink up.”

Without hesitation I lifted the cup to my lips and chugged it down. Chocolate, banana, chalky, but not bad. He watched me unmoving so I flexed my arm as I drank, smiling through my slurping. He reached over and wrapped a hand around my bicep, nowhere near encircling my arm, and let out a low whistle.

“Yeah boy, you’re turning out real good. Gonna make your Boss proud.”

My dick responded again, like Pavlov’s dog at this point, drooling all the while. As I finished drinking the shake down he handed me a napkin so I could clean up my moustache. I pounded a fist against my spandex-covered cobblestone stomach and let out a belch, then a chuckle. “Compliments to the chef. Thanks, Boss!”

He said nothing and instead walked thoughtfully around me, looking me up and down. I instinctively tensed everything, happy to be inspected, ready for whatever he planned to throw at me next.

A thread of anxiety, stretching up from my stomach to my chest. My breathing quickened. Wait, next? What about now? This was unreal, how did he…?

A hand on my shoulder and the panic melted.

“It’s alright, boy. You’re safe.”

I breathed out heavily, muscles relaxing a moment. “Yes, Boss. Sorry, I just was thinking...”

He faced me now, a bemused look, a hand on my bulge. “Oh? Thinkin’ about what?”

My breathing quickened again, the horniness flowed up and filled my mind, I groaned and flexed my core and my dick. His touch was electricity with my body wrapped in elasticity, I could barely string a thought. “Fuuuck…”

He nodded. “That sounds about right.”

Stepping back a few steps and leaning with an elbow against the back of a dining chair, “We’re going out tonight, boy, and I expect you to be on your best behaviour. You’ll stay by my side at all times without question, speak only when spoken to, and most importantly you will not cum without my knowledge or permission.”

I tensed back up, chest out, mimicking a bodybuilder’s relaxed pose as best I could. “Yes Boss!”

“Also,” his face darkened slightly, “I said all white.”

I blanched a bit. Shit.

“Yes Boss, I just… I liked the blue stripe.”

He stared daggers and for a moment I was sure I’d royally fucked up.

Suddenly softening he nodded, “Fair enough. I know you’ve only just arrived and it wouldn’t be fair to be too strict with you just yet. Know that in future if I ask somethin’ of you you’re to take my instructions literally unless we otherwise discuss, understood?”

I sighed with relief. “Yes, Boss, of course, Boss!”

It was only then I even realized he’d changed. Now in blue jeans and red flannel shirt, top buttons left open and collar splayed, sleeves rolled up, and a pair of harness boots. Walking toward the front door he fished a pair of leather gloves out of his back pocket and began slipping them on.

“You ready, boy?”

I nodded and grinned. “Yes, Boss!”

He grabbed his keys off a hook by the door while slipping on a pair of mirrored aviators.

“Let’s go then.”

And I followed.