Acceleration (Part 6)

It lasted nearly a full minute before it finally slowed and Russell could catch his breath, looking at the mess in front of him, unable to believe that all of that had really just come out of him. The smell of it was only making him horny again, and as he idly stroked his softening cock, he realized he could go for another round right now–and he was tempted to do so. No–no, he had to get a hold of himself. This was too much, why had he pressed that button again? Hell, twice more! It was stupid–now, he really was going to get dragged off to some laboratory for experimentation.

He ducked out from under the bathroom doorway, and the air was clearer there–slightly. It at least helped him think better, especially now that he shot his load, and like he’d suspected earlier…his mind really did feel sharper, somehow, though it was difficult to describe how, exactly. He focused on the problem at hand, and looked back down at the watch, seeing if there was something he had missed before on it. The device had recalibrated once more and was ready for another injection…and even if he was tempted, this was enough, wasn’t it? Yes, of course it was–still…he couldn’t help but imagine what he might look like after yet another dose…or two.

He needed to get this thing off of him, and he needed to do it now. He didn’t know if it was addictive, or what, but he couldn’t afford the temptation. He examined it, closer this time, and noticed a small recessed clasp on the inside of the band. It took some maneuvering with his thick fingers, but with a pop the watch came free and clattered the ground, where it shut off. Russell heaved a sigh of relief–that was over, at least. He picked up the watch and set it on the table in the hall, and considered the next problem–the big problem. What was he going to do now?

It was only a matter of time before his parents got home, and he had two choices–he could be here when they arrived, or he could run. But where would he go? It wasn’t like he was going to have an easy time finding a place to hide, looking like an eight foot tall gorilla staggering around the streets. He didn’t even have any clothes that would fit him, anyway. He had to stay, and hope that his parents wouldn’t…freak out. Well, they would freak out, but hopefully they wouldn’t call the cops or something insane like that. So, he just had to sit and wait–that was the best course of action by far.

His eyes flitted to the watch, still sitting on the table, and he looked away again. No–as much as he might…want to, it wasn’t safe. It was so far out of hand already. Hell, he didn’t even look like a person anymore–certainly not like a teenager by any stretch of the imagination, even if he did feel, in some ways, just like that old, small, frail version of himself from earlier in the day…and he hated that. Look at him! He was huge! He didn’t have anything to be afraid of, he didn’t have to be afraid of anything, and yet…he was afraid. He was afraid of that watch, and he was afraid of himself and this body, and he was afraid of what was going to happen to him, once his parents–once the world–found out about him.

But what if he didn’t have to be afraid? If he was bigger…he wouldn’t be afraid then, would he? What if he was so big, no one could stop him?

He shook his head, and looked away from the watch again. He couldn’t be big enough to outrun all of this, there was no way. Still, even if it couldn’t solve anything, there was no…denying how much he wanted to put that watch on, and press that button, and feel that…rush. It wasn’t an addiction. He didn’t need it. He wasn’t shaking, and he didn’t feel sick. No–he could admit that. He wanted it. He wanted to be bigger than this, he wanted to be bigger than everyone else, in the whole world. He…wanted to control it. He wanted men at his massive feet, cleaning them, sniffing his pits, sucking his cock, riding him, their guts distending with his massive loads. His cock was hard again, and he was stroking it slowly, head down near his pits, taking gentle snorts of his own musk. He could want it–that was alright. But he wasn’t going to do it. He told himself that, but wasn’t sure whether he believed it or not, in his head.

He was hungry though–hungrier than he could remember being before, which didn’t seem at all surprising. He went into the kitchen and found as many snacks as he could, and started gorging himself, anything to keep his mind off the watch, still sitting on the table there, when he heard the doorbell ring, and he froze.

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