Acceleration (Part 9)

They were ok. They were really ok! Russell looked down at the watch, only for it to smoke and spark suddenly, and they both rushed to get it off him and toss it away, where it gave a few pops, the screen cracking–but at least it didn’t explode. But a moment later, there was an odd flicker in reality, and it completely disappeared. Whatever it had done, there was no going back, it seemed–not that either of them was interested in that possibility. They were here, together, and that’s what mattered most.

Looking around, it was clear something had changed. The couch they were sitting on was, well, massive–Russell could sit on it well enough, though it was still a bit too large for him, and for Finn, he would have looked like a kid sitting on it. There was, however, a second sofa across from them with proportions more…appropriate to his size. The ceilings were higher by several feet–nearly thirteen or fourteen, most likely–but that was all Russell had a chance to notice before he heard the garage door open, and he realized their fathers were home.

Wait–fathers? From the confusion on Finn’s face, it was clear he was wondering something similar. Finn hauled himself free of Russell’s cock, still nursing his cum stuffed gut, and a couple minutes later, Russell saw a man he…somewhat recognized as his father enter the house–but he was, well, massive. Easily twelve feet tall, and completely naked–not that it much mattered. He had so much hair all over his body that he might as well have been clothed in it. His cock was easily three feet long, with a massive foreskin–and smell! It was like his own musk, but so much more intense. Looking over at Finn beside him, he was drooling and groping himself, before he struggled off the huge couch and waddled over to him, hugging him at the waist, humping at him. “I missed you daddy!” he said, and Russell’s father laughed.

“I missed you too, boy–but it looks like you and your brother found ways to entertain yourselves while we were gone,” he bent over and gave Finn’s belly a pat, throwing Russell a wink. “Looks like someone is finally getting frisky.”

Russell didn’t quite know what he meant, at first, but memories flooded in a moment later–how not even a year ago, he had been a little smaller than Finn, still waiting for puberty to kick in–and had it, in grand measure. In just a year, he’d become the massive man he was now–and his father assured him he had plenty more growing to do–he was already outpacing him, after all.

Behind his father, Russell saw a second, smaller man come through the door–who he recognized not only as his own dad now, in this reality, but as Finn’s old father as well. He was about eight feet tall, hips wide, gut distended, looking like a slightly larger version of Finn now. “Finn, I know you’re horny, but you can’t take advantage of your brother like that.”

“It was him!” Finn said, “He just smells so…good! Like…like daddy…”

“Do you need a ride on daddy’s cock, son? Seems like that’s the only thing that will settle you down,” Russell’s dad said, and looked back at his husband, “Puberty, remember?” He bent over and picked Finn up like he weighed nothing, and threw him over his shoulder before heading upstairs, and Finn’s dad shook his head, and walked over to Russell, only to get a funny look on his face as he did.

“What’s…what’s wrong, dad?” Russell asked.

“Damn–Finn’s right…you are smelling…ripe today.”

“Sorry…I can go shower, I’m just not used to it.”

His dad stopped him, and climbed up on him instead, licking at his pits. “No son–don’t…unless you don’t want to give your dad a good fuck, first?”

“Are…are you sure?” Russell asked, but he knew his dad never joked about this sort of thing.

“Come on–I got a good load from your dad at the store this evening–I’d love to feel the seed of the two men I love most in me together.” He got back down off the couch, and onto his hands and knees, “Now come on son, pump your slutty daddy full your that seed of yours–show me what kind a man you’re gonna be!”

Russell wasn’t going to object to an offer like that. Upstairs, he could hear his brother and other father moaning loudly in the bedroom, the rafters shaking slightly as they fucked–but Russell was enjoying his father’s ass too much to really notice. Fucking his brother was fun…but he just wasn’t very experienced. The things his dad could do with his hole–fuck, Russell might be topping him, but it was his dad calling all of the shots. Three loads later, his dad had had enough and sent Russell upstairs to shower. As he did, he had a difficult time believing–or even remembering–that things had ever been different. As far as he was concerned, everything was exactly how it should be.


The next Monday at school, everything felt like it was mostly back to normal, though some things were harder to adjust to than others. The fact that there were no women, most of all–just two types of men, though the line between them was…blurry. It was hardly uncommon, after all, to see a hulking, fifteen foot tall beast with a fill gut distended by cum. Or a (relatively) short fellow with a five foot cock, long enough to rest of the ground, smelling strong enough to bring even the largest of men to their knees in eager worship. Everything was so new, and everyone so strange, that at last, it was easy for Russell to feel, well, normal.

School, however, was strange. Mandatory showers to start the day, and every few hours, to help keep everyone focused on the tasks at hand. Still, it wasn’t uncommon to see students (and occasionally teachers) rutting in the halls, though it was preferred that such activities be restricted to the designated areas. It wasn’t until the afternoon that Russell saw Jack in the halls, and his jaw nearly dropped. Just under six feet, his hips were wide, his body smooth, and when he saw Russell standing there, the desire in his eyes was impossible to mask.

He waddled over, tugged Russell down by the front of his shirt. “You and me, the bathroom after school. You wanna?”

Russell smirked. Now that was the sort of invitation he could get behind.

Acceleration (Part 8)

“Russell, what…why the fuck do you smell so…fuck…” Finn moaned, and he started grinding against his friend’s massive body, sniffing deeper, licking at his sweat. “Please…we can’t…we can’t do this…”

“No–no, I’m taking orders from you. I don’t take orders from anyone, anymore. You do what I say now, and what I want, is for you to clean out my nasty pits. You want to do that too, don’t you boy?” Russell growled.

Finn tried to resist, but after a moment he gave in and licked faster, enjoying himself more, Russell telling his friend what a good boy he was, obeying his daddy like this. Finn hadn’t really managed to take in much of his friend’s new body, when he’d first entered the house–it had just been such a shock, seeing the nine foot tall brute waiting for him. Now though, he was starting to appreciate it all. How hairy he was, how amazing he smelled…and his cock. Russell wasn’t gay–or at least, he’d had sex with enough girls at school to assume he was straight, but this was something else. He didn’t want Russell because he was a man–or at least, that wasn’t the only reason. No–he wanted him because he was…superior. Better than him in every way. Worthy of his worship. Russell pulled his friend’s face free of his pit, and saw the look of pure contentment on his face. “T-Thank you, sir…” Finn muttered.

“You’re welcome boy–but I don’t think you’re done serving me, do you?”

Finn shook his head.

“Yeah, but you were a bad boy, doing something that I didn’t like. You aren’t going to try that again, are you? Or else I’m going to have to punish you.”

“Sorry sir, I won’t sir.”

“That’s very good to hear,” Russell said. “Now, my parents won’t be home for a while still, so why don’t you tell me everything you know about this watch? I think we’ll probably be able to figure out a solution that will make me happy, don’t you?”

Finn was much more agreeable after that, and so, he told Russell the story of the watch–which wasn’t really a watch at all. No–it was something much, much more powerful than that. It could change the physical characteristics of whoever was wearing it, in whatever way they desired. However, the family had to be careful to make sure people didn’t notice anything to extreme.

“So wait,” Russell asked, “What were you planning to do when you came back?”

“The watch…can warp reality in a limited sense. It can make changes seem normal to people–but we don’t know how it works. I don’t…think it could work for a change like this, its too big.”

“Well, have you ever tried?”

Finn shook his head. “But it’s…intense sir. The one or two times I’ve had to do it–and for small changes–I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“What’s the worst that could happen, really?”

Finn didn’t say anything for a moment, “I…I honestly don’t know what it would do to you, if it didn’t work. It could kill you. It could probably do something worse than that, too.”

Russell looked down at himself, at his massive frame, his thick cock which Finn was hugging with his arms, nursing the head and drinking his precum as he spoke. What could be worse than dying, really? As far as he was concerned, having to go back to who he’d been, the runt–that was the worst possibility of all. He’d do anything to avoid that. Could he…live with being smaller? No–no, this was all or nothing, but before anything happened, he…needed to know what it felt like, being inside someone. He stroked Finn’s head, “Do you want me to fuck you, boy?”

Finn nodded, but looked at the mostrous tool, “It’s…it’s so big, though.”

“I bet that watch of yours could help, don’t you?”

Finn’s eyes lit up, and Russell allowed him to put it on, fiddling with the settings, and he pushed the button in. Finn didn’t get larger, exactly, but his hips widened, his ass filling out with a thick layer of fat–and he assured Russell would have no problem getting inside him now, because Finn could take anything. Sure enough, ten minutes later, Russell was on the couch, Finn in his lap, moaning and grunting, the massive cock slammed deep in his guts. “Oh…Oh fuck it feels so good sir, fuck!” he said, grinding down further, his own cock leaking like a faucet.

“Of course it does boy–that’s where it belongs, right?”

Finn nodded, delirious, and Russell grabbed him under his arms and started lifting him up and down like it was no challenge at all. Finn just went limp with pleasure, eventually spurting a massive load of cum all over Russell’s chest, gut, and face. Russell picked up the pace, feeling himself getting closer until he dropped Finn all the way down to the root and shot, watching his gut actually expand slightly from the size of the load. Finn rubbed it, feeling his friend’s seed deep inside him, and then bent forward and licked up his own cum as well, enjoying the taste of it mixed with his master’s musk and sweat. Still–it was time.

Finn opened the admin privileges, and Russell put the watch back on his wrist. Finn calibrated it, and then started pulling himself fress of his master’s cock–but Russell pushed him back down onto it.

“But sir, if we’re still touching…I don’t know what the watch might do.”

“If this is the end, the last thing I want to feel is my huge cock in your guts boy–you feel the same, don’t you?”

Finn nodded, reluctantly, and soon enough, the watch was ready. It took…quite a while for it to calibrate, and Russell kept checking the clock, nervous about his parents imminent arrival. Finally, the button popped out, and after a final kiss, Russell pushed down the button, and everything around them came apart at the seams. It lasted a moment, according to the clock, but for the two of them, it was an eternity together, Russell’s massive cock buried deep inside him, and while they couldn’t remember much about it, it didn’t hurt, and when they came to, back on the couch, both of them erupted all over again, simultaneously, Finn’s already taut gut bloating out even further.

Acceleration (Part 7)

The house was silent for a moment, as he considered what to do next. Maybe…they would just go away. Did he want them to go away though? What if it was the same person who left the watch? They might know how to fix this! Did…did he want them to fix this?

No–he didn’t want that, he supposed. But if he knew more about it, maybe…maybe there was something else he could do about it, maybe a way to hide it, for the moment, until he can figure out what to do on a more…permanent basis.

The doorbell rang again. Whoever it was, wasn’t going away, apparently. He could at least go and see who it was, if nothing else. He went to the front door, trying to be as quiet as possible, but it was nearly impossible to keep his feet from thudding on the wood floor, the boards creaking under his substantial weight. He got to the door and crouched down, pressing his eye to the peephole, and was surprised to find Finn standing on the stoop outside the door, looking around nervously.

That wasn’t who he was expecting, by any means–why was he here? Did he want to try and apologize? Now was definitely not the time for that…even if Russell did want to show him what he looked like now. He could just see Finn’s mouth dropping open at the sight of him, he could…smell him, how turned on he’d get, and when he dragged him inside, shoved his face into one of his stinking pits–well, Finn would be more than happy to ride his cock before too long…

Russell recoiled from the door, unable to believe he was thinking this about his friend. No–he couldn’t risk it. Finn rang the doorbell again, impatiently–he obviously wasn’t going away, but he’d give up soon enough, right. Finn shook his head, pulled out his phone, dialed a number and Russell heard his phone start ringing upstairs–and Finn looked up. He could hear the phone through Russell’s open bedroom window.

“Fuck!” Russell growled, and Finn banged on door.

“Russell–did you get the gift I left you?” Finn said through the door, and Russell’s eyes went wide. Finn…left him the watch? He thought back again to that summer, and how Finn had come back looking like a whole new person. Had he used the watch too? “Let me in–we’ll get it sorted out, alright? You don’t have to be afraid, but I…I know you didn’t want to see me, so I left it for you here. I know…it’s not enough, and I shouldn’t have even taken it from my dad, but I wanted to help.”

It was Finn? He’s the one who’d left him the watch?

Russell found all of the pieces fitting together, how Finn had disappeared for that summer, and come back looking…well, looking like Russell had after just that first time using the watch. He must have used it too–that’s how he had changed. Finn would know how to fix this, he’d be able to get him back to normal! Well, or at least, more normal. One thing was for sure, thought–Russell was never going back to being runt, ever again. He unlocked the door, pulled it open, and was careful to hide behind it (as best he could) until Finn stepped inside, and then shut it. Finn turned, saw him, and his jaw dropped. “Oh…oh fuck, what the fuck did you do, Russell?”

“What the fuck do you mean? I used the watch!” Russell said. His voice was so…loud, he saw Finn flinch slightly. “Sorry…I…I might have gotten a little…carried away?”

“Carried away how?” Russell said, “I programmed it specifically to only run one program!”

“It just kept…working though.”

Finn stared at him. “Oh shit–it kept recalibrating, didn’t it? How many times did you use it?”

Russell just looked a bit sheepish, “I…uh, three?”

“God fucking dammit,” Finn said, and headed into the house, “Where is it? We have to change you back.”

“Hey now, hold on man–it’s not that bad!” Russell said. “I mean, I’m good! I just…I don’t know how to explain it to my parents, is all.”

“No, I can’t explain this to my dad, is the problem,” Finn said, “Let’s…look, we’ll change you back, and figure it out from there, ok? This was such a stupid idea, I knew this was so fucking stupid…”

Russell froze. There was no way he was going to go back to being that…that fucking runt! The watch was still in the kitchen–he chased after Finn, catching up to him in just a couple of strides…but what could he do? Well…there was one thing that had occurred to him, but…no–no, that wasn’t right. Still, what other choice did he have? He grabbed Finn by the back of his shirt and pulled him back, wrapping him in a bear hug, tight. “Fuck man, let me go!” Finn shouted, struggling–but Russell held him easily. He was so…weak compared to him, and that too, was getting him a bit horny.

“I’m not going back, Finn. You can’t make me.”

“Russell, I’m not kidding around!”

He spun Finn around, lifted an arm, and with the other, palmed the back of Finn’s head and pushed it into his pit. He struggled more, trying to get away, but Russell could…tell it was having an effect on him. “Just relax man, relax…”

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.

Acceleration (Part 5)

It wasn’t mere horniness–he’d been horny before. Hell, being horny was the one aspect of being a teenager he’d ever been able to relate to. No–this wasn’t mere horniness–this was a raw, aching desire to fuck. He wanted to fuck someone–he wanted to fuck a man. He wanted to top them, and drive his massive cock into them–he wanted to feel them squirm, he wanted to…to dominate them. He looked at himself in the mirror and grinned, admiring the full pelt of hair coating his chest and torso now–and noticed that the abs he’d had before were hidden behind a slight gut now. It wasn’t much, really–but it looked good on him, and filled him out. Made him look more powerful and commanding.

The drug was clearing from his system now, and left him feeling clear headed, and sharp. It was like his entire brain was firing on all cylinders–he could feel…everything, but he…saw everything too. Like the entire world was laid out in front of him. Was the drug affecting his mind as well? If it was, it wasn’t hurting him by any means. He gripped his cock and imagined being back in that hallway at school–no, not in the hallway. He imagined being in that bathroom with Jack, shoving him against the wall, grinding this massive cock between his cheeks, making him beg for it before he fucked him long and deep, marked him as his, made sure everyone knew who was really in charge. He heard a beep come from his wrist–the watch had recalibrated again, and was flashing “Ready”. He knew what he wanted–he wanted more. He pressed the button, and shuddered as the drug flooded his system once again.

The fear was gone–he was anticipating it now. His muscles began to heat up once more, but they had already grown so much that the sensation wasn’t so much a pop, as a general swelling. They didn’t seem to be getting any larger, and yet, he could tell that they were growing stronger all the same. His skin, however, was showing signs of wear–he was growing too fast for it to keep up, causing stretch marks to appear all over him, especially across his chest and gut, which was growing fuller now, pushing out into a proper muscle gut, firm and covered in hair. He rubbed it and moaned, thinking about how good it would feel, having it rest on the small of a man’s back, which his cock was driving into the man’s ass. His bones were creaking again, growing thicker–stronger. He wanted…to punch something. Not to hurt it–he just wanted to see how strong he was. It was just–a need.

He looked at the wall beside him, and couldn’t resist–he wound up and slammed his fist into the wall. It didn’t even hurt–it was like wet paper to him, the drywall just crumbling around his hand. He pulled himself free, and aside from a few scraped knuckles, he was fine. The growth was slowing down already, which almost upset him, and he stood up, only to feel his head graze the ceiling of the bathroom.

Eight feet tall–it seemed impossible. He looked down at the room around him, and everything seemed so small and fragile. He lifted up the seat of the toilet with one of his thick hands, and could tell that, if he wanted to, he could snap the plastic with almost no effort at all. How much could he possibly weight at this point? There was a scale in the bathroom, under the sink. He crouched down and managed to haul it free, and stood on it–only for it to max out at 300 pounds. He was over three hundred pounds! It didn’t seem possible–but there it was, right in front of his face–well, under his feet at least, since his face was as far away from the scale as it could get. Looking down, he noticed his feet–how the heels were touching one end of the scale, while his toes were dangling off of it. They were massive, and covered with hair all along the tops, joining the pelt that started at his ankles and worked all the way up his body. The hair, at this point, was growing so thick it was difficult to see his skin in places. He ran his hands through it and shivered–it was almost as erotic as touching his cock. His beard was filling in, crawling up his cheeks, and growing longer–even as he noticed his hairline beginning to recede, two bald spots forming at the front of his hairline and pushing back.

Was he getting older? No–he didn’t look older, but whatever this process was, it was obviously affecting him in other ways, beyond the obvious. Still–he didn’t mind it. He looked mature, and dominant…and sexy. He was larger than Finn now–larger than any man he’d ever seen before in his life. He sniffed the room, noticing a rather sharp funk on the air, and it took him a moment to realize that it was him. He lifted an arm and sniffed at his pit, only to let off a low moan–almost guttural, it was so deep. He smelled…amazing. He leaned back against the wall, feeling it shudder slightly as he hit it, arm raised over his head, and pressed to the ceiling, and he kept sniffing, jacking his cock slowly with his other hand. Despite the fact that the shaft was larger than a two liter bottle, his own massive hand could still grip it easily–even if he couldn’t bring his fingers to touch around it by several inches. Precum started to flow, first a couple of drops, and then it began drooling from the head in copious amounts, pooling on the floor beneath him, adding to the musky scent of the bathroom. He stroked faster, grunting and growling, feeling more and more like a beast as he did, until his orgasm hit, balls contracting so hard it was almost painful, cum spraying from the head and spattering across the mirror in front of him, running down onto the counter as more and more gouted out from his cock.

Acceleration (Part 4)

He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know what this thing was, or what it might do. Just because the button sent him through puberty the first time, didn’t mean anything about what might happen if he pressed it again. No–he needed to call someone, his parents, and get help. Once this thing was off him, then he could worry about what it was, and what it could do.

One of his fingers traced the button a moment, and then pulled away.

It had felt good though, hadn’t it? No–that was a lie, it had been painful as hell, but fuck, it felt good now, on the other side. He felt so strong, and alive–if this is what it felt like after using it once, then what might it feel like if he did it twice? Still it was too risky–besides, what might happen to him if he got another dose of…whatever that stuff was, after already getting one? There might be side effects, or hell, it might kill him, if he wasn’t careful with it.

His finger had gone back to fiddling with the button, and he didn’t pull it away this time, once he noticed.

He didn’t want to go back, to being who he was. If he went to the hospital, they would see this as something…as something wrong with him, but what, really, was wrong? All it had done was make him normal, after all. Well, not quite normal, he supposed. If anything, he still felt a little…short, and he wouldn’t mind being even hairier, and while the stubble was nice, now that he’d had time to look at it, it was coming in a bit patchy. He’d survived it once–and he wasn’t about to get another chance like this in his life.

He pushed the button in, and braced himself for the sharp stick of the needles, which again slid from the back of the watch into his wrist. He was ready for it this time, at least. Or, he hoped he was ready for it. He…still didn’t know what the button did, for certain. He’d been assuming that it would inject him with the same stuff as before…but what if it did something else? His heart was speeding again, throbbing in his ear–he flexed his forearm, and felt the muscle pop again–the growth wasn’t as obvious, on his now much more developed body, but it was still apparent. The rest of his arm followed suit, and now that he knew what to expect, it was easier–he could…ride it, the pain and thrill of it, feeling his body surge and expand all around.

The bone ache was still the worst of it, but he didn’t fall down this time, even if he needed a wall to keep himself steady. Even that, though, was better, and watching the room fall back around him, as he gained another foot in height–cresting near seven feet–he felt…amazing. Is this what Finn felt like all the time? He felt so powerful, looming over everything. He looked around the room, feeling almost drunk, one hand groping his chest, feeling the firm pectoral underneath his skin, almost hot to the touch. He was big. Hell, he wasn’t just big–big was just the first word that came to his mind, but it couldn’t begin to capture the sensation of this. Powerful was closer. Strong was another. None of them could quite capture it, because it wasn’t just the raw force–it was the comparison between this, and who he had been before.

Weak. He had been so…weak. He couldn’t stop anyone from doing anything to him. He was just passive. But now–now, he could do something. He imagined that scene from earlier, in the hall, where Jack had cornered him–more than that, where he’d assaulted him. He thought about how he’d been unable to do anything about it–how it was just the luck of Finn passing by that had resolved the entire situation. How if this watch hadn’t shown up here, he would be dreading school tomorrow, wondering what Jack would do, since he hadn’t responded to his invitation, for lack of a better word. But it had shown up. It had shown up, and now–now he didn’t have to worry about that. Now, he was going to be in control.

He stretched up, feeling his joints popping and snapping as the last of the growth finished off. It did hurt–but not like the first time. If anything, he almost…enjoyed it. He turned back to the mirror, and discovered that with his new frame, he filled it. He had to take a step back, his back against the wall opposite sink, so that he could even see all of himself in it. The rest of the changes were coming now–the tingle of the hair across his body, but other sensations as well. He felt…a bit sick to his stomach, actually, and worried it was some side effect of the watch being used twice, but the unease settled in lower, beneath his gut and in his lower abdomen. He didn’t quite know what was happening to him, but his cock was growing again–not as much as it had the first time, by any means, but it was still larger than any cock he’d seen in porn. Eleven inches? Twelve? It was…monstrous. He reached down to grab it, and when he did, he gasped–it was…so sensitive, and almost immediately it hardened, passing a foot long as it did, jutting out from him like a small spear. The unease slipped lower and gripped his balls–and intensified. It had been uncomfortable before, but this time–his balls didn’t merely double in size–they swelled in his hands where he cupped them and dropped lower, each swelling to the size of a grapefruit, and as they did, he felt lust surge through him.

Orwell’s Demon (Part 2)


Orwell was at his desk, distracted again, but then again, he was usually distracted these afternoons, ever since the wrestling coach, Mr. Diamond, had moved his office into the open office space as Orwell’s. He wasn’t the only one afflicted by any means–several of the young women teachers around the school would stop by periodically to say hi, though their eyes were glued to the young hunk everyone was talking about. Still, as good a guy as Ray Diamond was, Orwell knew he would never have a chance with him–he was hopelessly straight, or else so deep in the closet no one would ever find him.

He looked back at his computer and tried to focus on entering grades, but there was something else bothering him. The amulet he was wearing–the thing he’d bought on a whim at a little thrift shop downtown a few days prior, which he’d been wearing since, was…warm. Not just warm, actually, but hot against his skin.

He could be yours, you know.

It was a voice. A voice in his head, but it wasn’t…his voice. He looked around, just in case, but no one around Orwell had spoken.

I know you want him. I know everything that you want, Orwell. You want so many things, so many men. It’s beautiful, but so many of them don’t want you back. So much…unrequited desire built up in you, with nowhere to go.

The heat welled up somewhere new now–in Orwell’s crotch. His cock was rock hard, suddenly, throbbing with need. The voice was right, to some extent. Orwell was gay, but he wasn’t lacking for sex. He was twenty-six, had a decent body (though not as nice as Ray Diamond had) and was by no means a virgin…but he did have a habit for falling head over heels in lust with the straightest of men–men like Mr. Diamond.

He was certain his cock was going to explode, but it didn’t–as rapidly as the heat, and the voice, had come–they disappeared, leaving Orwell to heave a sigh of relief. A couple desks away, Ray Diamond shuddered, and then stood up from his desk, adjusted his crotch, and walked over to where Orwell was sitting. Orwell could…sense something was off about him. His eyes…had a tinge of red, and his mouth was curled in a snarl that he’d never seen on the coach’s face before. “Well Orwell?” Ray said–and it was the voice. The voice from his head, speaking through Ray’s mouth, “Do you want me or not? Come on and let’s have some fun.”

Orwell didn’t know what to do…but when Mr. Diamond grabbed his hand and hauled him out of the office chair and pulled him down the hall, towards the gyms on the other side of the building, Orwell’s heart did a little flutter. “A-Are you sure, Ray? I mean…at school?”

“Please–what Ray wants doesn’t matter anymore. The only person I aim to please, is you.”

“But…who are you?”

Ray turned around, and the flicker of red around his eyes Orwell had seen earlier had grown more pronounced, the hand round his own was hotter, and the grip was tight. “You’ll see…Now come on. Ray knows just the place.”

They ended up in a storage room inside one of the gyms, and among the spare jerseys, balls, and other gym equipment, Ray tore at Orwell’s clothes, ripping them away, even as his own seemed to simply…disappear. No–not disappear. They were burning up. In the dim light, Orwell could see the fabric simply burning up, like paper turning to ash. The coach’s skin underneath was red and inflamed, almost too hot to the touch–but the hottest part of him was, by far, his cock. If Ray had been that endowed before, Orwell was sure he would have noticed–it had to be at least ten inches long, and as thick as a beer can. He started to get on his knees, but Ray had other ideas–he shoved Orwell down and started running the massive member up and down his crack.

“I don’t think–it’s so big…” Orwell said.

“I know,” Ray said, and shoved the head into Orwell’s ass, unlubed, making him scream in pain, the coach driving his cock in deeper and deeper–but there didn’t seem to be an end to it. Orwell had never felt someone go this deep inside him before, his guts churning and coiling and burning with every thrust. “But it’s what you want, Orwell–I promise to always give you what you want.”

It felt like hours, the cock driving into him deeper and deeper, Orwell losing track of how many times he came. Then, suddenly, he felt the urge to gag, and then something forced his jaw wide, and with one mighty heave, Ray forced the head of his cock out through Orwell’s mouth, leaving him groaning and muttering in panic. “Like a pig on a spit,” the voice said, and Orwell felt himself…lifted from the ground, impaled on the bestial cock his fellow teacher had grown–or who he assumed was his fellow teacher. Claws dug into his skin and twisted him around on the shaft until he could see the thing which was now fucking him–and found himself staring at what he could only call a demon. “How does the little piggy feel?” the thing asked, licking his lips, “Does it feel good? I am yours, five times, but give in, and you can be mine for all eternity. Say yes, pig. Say yes–I will give you such glorious pleasure, I promise.”

Orwell just screamed, trying to haul himself free of the demon’s massive cock.

“A ‘no’ then. Four more, piggy. Four more,” the demon said, gripped Orwell’s sides, and began fucking him on the massive shaft, the head thrusting up and down Orwell’s throat until the demon gave a long roar, tugged Orwell up so the head slipped back into his stomach, and he came. Orwell felt the cum flooding his guts, flooding his body, and as it did…he could see his body changing, sagging, filling up with fat–enough fat that he dragged the demon’s dick down and he landed with the thud, the dick snapping off and turning to ash. The air around him was full of ash too–the remains of Ray’s body fluttering down around him, and his now obese body, hole gaping, as he hauled on his clothing (clothing which had somehow adjusted to his now flabby frame) and fled the scene as fast as he could, trying to ignore the laugh dogging him in the back of his mind the entire way home.