The Roommate, Parts XIII and XIV

[Xyggurat]

Dear Readers,

They say that thirteen is an unlucky number. Although I'm not heavy on superstition, this was reason enough to churn out two chapters of "The Roommate" for tonight's update.

The muscle growth is sparse but present in these two chapters, but they're primarily plot work that ties some information up for me. This will allow me time in future installments to move onto bigger--heh, pun!--and better things, like more muscle growth. In fact, I pretty much wrote in a mandatory "growth here" portion into the end of chapter fourteen. So unless the protagonist suffers a massive heart attack or Phil spontaneously combusts, count on it.

Final point: yes, keep the feedback coming. You may think it doesn't help, but the e-mails I've received are what keep me going on this story despite a busy summer schedule. It doesn't need to be terribly constructive. Just knowing that people are still keeping interest and have an opinion on it is enough to let me know I'm still writing to an audience. [email protected] is my e-mail. I won't get whiny on the matter, but if you take the time to read the story, try and jot down a 5 second e-mail, yeah? (If this has persuaded you to write, please preface your e-mail with something recognizable. "The Roommate" or "MGS" are acceptable, "FREE P0rn H3R3" will get eaten by my spamblaster.

I read all e-mails I get, even the ones I don't reply to. If you feel more comfortable just replying to this thread, do that instead!

Without further ado,

The Roommate, Parts XIII and XIV

-X-

[Xyggurat]

"Professor McTague! It's Dane Jackson!"

I hammered on the door to Professor McTague's office. It was painted a washed-out periwinkle, like most of the other doors along the hallway. I turned my back on the door and scanned the hall in both directions. All of the doors were numbingly same, and all were closed. It was a popular rumor that an architect known for his prison designs was responsible for the layout of the school.

A single clock hung a good way down the hall, its white face starkly announcing that it was 5:30. I sighed. That certainly explained why the school had been so empty. I had completely lost track of time during

My shoulders stiffened with a sudden chill. With the campus so sparsely populated, no one would be able to stop Jason if he were around. He would force himself onto me, and I would yield. He was so strong, and I would make him stronger. And bigger: I would watch his biceps swell, pulsing slowly out of their softball size and expanding agonizingly toward something more powerful--an overripe orrange, a small cannonball. I'd see the pouch of his crotch bulging out with new obscene growth, straining with a pornographic slab of meat. He would tower even higher over me, becoming even more glutted with that malevolent masculinity he now embodied. His pectorals would heave with the pleasure of growth, the dark wifebeater he customarily wore these days offering a crackling refrain as it struggled to contain his mounting size, and...

I took a deep breath and pushed panic into the back of my mind. It did not yield easily. My hands and feet were tingling as if they had been asleep. It took a moment to realize I had a tremendous erection. Even though no one else was around, I was thankful for the jeans I was wearing and my diminished manhood. Had I been normal, I would've been tenting ridiculously.

The creaking of Professor McTague's door behind me banished my erection almost instantly. The blood from my boner seemed to rush right into my face. I was blushing furiously as I spun around.

Professor McTague was taller.

No, wait. I was a little shorter than when we had first met. It took my senses just a moment to readjust to this change in perspective, but not nearly so long as it should have. It's a testament to the miracle that is humanity that we can adapt so easily to such massive change. That thought made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to adapt to this.

"You're not looking well," the professor told me. My face flushed again as his dark emerald eyes scanned over my body. His gaze was as frank as the observation, not at all lewd or sexual. He simply took every inch of me in with his eyes, smiled, and said, "Come in, and relax."

I did, and Professor McTague locked the door behind me. I suppose I had expected a tiny office as was customary for adjunct faculty members to inhabit. Most were little more than cubbyholes pocking the grey faces of the halls, crammed with the gear of professors who time-shared the same cramped space.

Professor McTague's office was not an office at all. In one corner, a small desk housed neat stacks of paper organized into unmarked trays. He had a laptop. It looked functional but not excessive, a real academic's computer complete with a series of animated DaVinci sketches fading in an out of a screensaving black background. The office space segued unceremoniously into a small laboratory area, with a gathering of beakers, tubes, and various other articles that looked ripped from a mad scientist's lair arranged atop a compact white counter whose support was pocked with drawers. I watched, fascinated, as some violet fluid worked its way through one of the tubes before combining with a clear solution in an Erlenmeyer flask. The liquids swirled together and became a dazzling electric blue.

"Fascinating, I know," Professor McTague deadpanned. He was seated at his desk, and had set up a comfortable if utilitarian chair directly opposite it. "I can watch reactions for hours. But that's what makes me a geek, I suppose."

"You don't look like a geek," I said thoughtlessly, sitting at a single gesture of his right hand.

He chuckled. His laughter had a lilting quality that came from true mirth. It made me feel better just to hear the sound.

"I know it's cliche, but you really can't go around judging books by their covers," he said once he had finished.

"Sorry, it's just--"

"No, no," he waved the explanation away. "Believe me, I understand. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I'm surprised at what I see."

"I know what you mean," I offered. I instantly wanted to take it back.

He leaned forward and considered me. For eyes of such a deep shade, his were piercing. They were a raptor's eyes, and could have been unsettling if he let them. I wasn't uncomfortable at all. I felt about as relaxed as I could be in my situation. In the spaces between moments of thought, I could almost forget about Phil's sweat-slicked torso, the individual abdominals flexing and relaxing as he breathed. Almost.

I folded my hands in my lap.

"At the risk of a perpetual loop, I know you know exactly what I mean," Professor McTague said.

I started to laugh, but something in his expression stopped me short. "I don't think--"

"--that anyone knows what you're going through. That situations are spiraling out of your control, and that you're losing touch with who you used to be."

A breath of relief. It probably sounded like a sigh. "Yeah, that's it exactly, professor."

"Does anyone else know what your roommate is doing to you?" His expression of concern didn't change a bit.

I blinked. "What?" A note of hysteria had crept into my voice.

"Does anyone know what Phil is doing to you, Dane? This is very important, so I need you to answer."

Answer? I didn't want to answer. I wanted to get up and out of here. But I answered. "Yes. Just two people. A kid that I met at the gym today--"

"--and Jason. No more, you're certain?"

"As far as I know."

Professor McTague leaned back, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry for forcing that on you, Dane."

Weakly, I began. "No, it's... it's good that someone else knows. But how do you know?"

"Part of what's happening to you is my fault. Please, though. I hope you'll stay calm. I'm not the one you need to worry about, and I do think that I can undo the damages that have been done to you."

Calmness was the last thing on my mind. I was brimming with a thousand questions, all of which were buzzing around in the sudden light of hope in my head. If I could just be normal again, all of this would go away. I wouldn't be acting so strangely. I could move away from Phil, transfer colleges if need be--

"Whatever you need from me, I'll do it," I told him.

"We can't get you back to normal yet," he responded. My hopes crashed and sunk. "Look, I promise things will get better. But you need to understand some things. I'm not sure what you know, so... is there anything you can think of to ask?"

Instantly: "What's happened to my roommate?"

"Phil is the host of a symbiote."

"Come again?"

"A symbiote."

"Like... Venom?"

Professor McTague chuckled again. I was glad someone was finding this amusing. "Actually, a lot like Venom. Except your roommate's no Peter Parker and his symbiote isn't evil."

"You could've fooled me, Professor," I muttered darkly.

"If you'd like you really can call me Liam," he offered. Evidently sensing my burgeoning lack of enthusiasm for these proceedings, he dropped the bomb. "I have a symbiote, too. But you must trust me. I am not going to harm you in any way."

Reluctantly, I relaxed back into my chair. "So," I accused, "You're like Phil."

"No, not at all," he assured me, spreading his hands openly. "I said you were right about the symbiotes being like Spider-man's Venom. And you were right. These symbiotes adapt to fit their hosts' deepest desires, and in turn they change their hosts. They're really quite ingenious. Unless a host has a very strong will, they will use him or her to breed in the most convenient way."

"So, this isn't really Phil. It's just something inside of him, making him do this."

Liam closed his eyes. He breathed out long and low. "I'm afraid not. The symbiotes do not control minds. Phil's symbiote isn't even on the same level as mine: it's different, some how. Maybe it's because of him, but it's not as adaptable as it should be: what it does for Phil, it will do for any of its progeny's hosts.

"As for the mind control... The human brain is far too complex for them to alter at more than a rudimentary level. I'm sure that Phil's has tapped into his urges toward megalomania, dominance, all of that mental garbage. Otherwise, though... this is your roommate's fantasy."

"How's it going to reproduce?"

"Now, that's the brilliant part of Phil's symbiote. His symbiote's been experimenting, and it's found the perfect way to work through your roommate. You've seen how it's changed him, making him grow stronger, taller, more virile, more masculine. Giving him the same power I have with my voice, to make people act just by giving them commands. And look at how it's changed you. You're smaller, weaker, attracted to his power, filled with unbelievable libido. And the important part? Your semen makes people grow."

"I don't see--"

"You're the perfect feeder for anyone Phil's symbiote chooses to share itself with. They'll be the ones with a thirst for vengeance, a feeling of being wronged by the big guys. They'll shrink honest fellows like you down and turn you into subservients, then use you to become irresistable and invincible. It'll change the order of things."

I had to ask. "What does your symbiote do, Professor?"

He shrugged. "Do you want to see the real me?" he asked. I nodded.

Abruptly, Professor McTague rose from his desk. He stripped off the dark sweater he was wearing, leaving only a sleeveless t-shirt on underneath. As he untied his shoes and undid his belt and trousers, I was surprised at how nicely he was built, with the lithe muscles of a swimmer or runner. His legs encouraged the latter possibility. They were very well developed, his quads almost filling the legs of his green boxers. He also had quite a bulge. Professor McTague was hung!

I forced myself away from that particular thought, even as I was struck by the vision before me: a lithe, sun-browned man in his late twenties standing before me in his boxers. A dark treasure trail bisected his lower abs, which were just as finely-drawn as his upper.

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. At least, that's what I thought at first. Ever so slightly, Professor McTague began to expand. His legs lengthened ever so slightly, stretching the muscles to a size more fitting to the rest of his body. The rounded pectorals on his chest thickened and bulged outward, reforming into tight squared muscle that protruded slightly over abs that were not quite so perfect and perhaps a bit hairier than before. A small patch of dark hair also sprouted from the center of his chest. His shoulders broadened, and his biceps and triceps began to bulge outward a bit, losing definition in exchange for size. Finally, his coloring began to change. His skin was getting lighter, his body hair slightly darker, until it was all brown with faint auburn streaks. The only part of Professor McTague that shrunk was the noticeable bulge in his boxers. It looked a lot more average now.

"And here I am," he said, in a voice that was slightly deeper, a little coarser. Coarser was the way I would describe most of the new Professor McTague, with regard to how I had known him all along.

Or Liam, I corrected, as I looked at his face. He was, at most, my age, with a straight nose, small ears, and a blue-black growth of beard that sharpened his features. He had a very bluff, honest look to his face. His eyes were still a dark emerald.

He put a hand on one of his pectorals and flexed it. The muscle bounded noticeably.

"Okay, maybe not exactly me, but I was pretty close to this before I changed into Professor McTague," he said. "It's hard to remake your body without idealizing a bit."

A few weeks ago, I would have been out that door and on my way to a drug test. At the moment, all I could manage was, "Wow. So, why did you change?"

"I was a student here when I first discovered a symbiote by accident. They're definitely terrestrial in origin. I think they're man-made, though. Mine latched onto me while I was camping near Pendleton. Maybe it was something the military was working on and decided to ditch; I don't know. At any rate, I figured that I had to keep an eye on things here. You see, Phil is completely my fault."

"I'm getting used to trusting you. Go on."

"My symbiote made me smarter, stronger, sexier. I had a good body because I worked out, and decent looks because of genetics, but it gave me confidence and irresistability. I'd always been a good student in Organic Chemistry before, but I was literally making breakthroughs in every single class. The symbiote made me clever enough to realize I should keep everything under wraps. We need privacy, you see.

"So, I finally convinced it to reproduce itself. It came out in my semen, and I tried using my smarts to discover exactly what these creatures were. I'm not entirely sure how it escaped, but one day, the spawn escaped."

"Storm drain," I told him. "Phil fell into sewage. There was stuff all over him."

"Grey?" Liam asked. His features were shifting back into his older countenance.

"Yes, grey."

He frowned. "Well, that explains some of it. The symbiotes aren't yet adept at surviving outside of the human body for too long. Mine was ill when it entered me. Maybe Phil's was... damaged somehow. As soon as it entered him, my symbiote felt it. So I assumed thise guise, and used my powers to get myself this office and a teaching job. I convinced my family I was going to Tibet."

I looked at the clock on his wall. Time had not, after all, frozen. "I need to go pretty soon," I said, "But can you change me back to what I was first?"

Professor McTague shook his head. His features were back to normal. "No, I can't. We need to use you to get at this rogue symbiote, and bring it down. Things are going to get worse before they get better."

Resigned, I nodded. Liam started herding me toward the door.

"For now, just head back home. Phil's not at your room yet, but I can tell he's in the apartments. We'll meet when you have the time. I'll tell someone I need some paid leave so I can spend more time at the office." With a falsely cheery smile, he offered, "Hours are 6 AM to 4 PM. Good luck, Dane."

My smile, at least, was genuine. "Thanks, Liam."

"Oh, and... before you go. This is my command to you: do not, under any circumstances, tell Phil about me or the fellow you met today. You will fight against his control as best you can." He nodded. "There, now. You should be armed, if lightly. Good luck. Again."

I set off down the hallway. Despite where I was heading, I felt remarkably good.

[Xyggurat]

My spirits dropped as soon as I made it into the room. It reeked of the strange, acrid smell I associated with Phil's tainted semen. A pair of basketball shorts, torn at the seams by his growing bulk, were strewn across Phil's bed. They lay amongst the tattered remnants of Phil's favorite crimson shirt, which lay as vibrant reminders of my roommate's continued growth. He had left several pornographic magazines sitting upon his pillow. I had seen some pretty messed up stuff, but the things he was looking at made me want to retch.

There was no time for that. The door burst open, hitting the wall with a gunshot's bang. Two forms were standing in the doorway. Phil's was recognizable. No one else could make a green t-shirt and grey sweats bulge so exquisitely. They were my clothes. They fit him well. The material of the shirt clung to Phil's swollen deltoids. It probably would have showcased the individual bricks of his 8-pack had it not been untucked and tented out by his protruding pectorals. The bulge in Phil's pants was stunning in size, stretching halfway down to his knee. The tent his erection made hinted at unusual girth.

The person next to him was more simply dressed. He was clad in a vivid blue polo shirt and khaki pants. As was common fashion, the thick band of a gold watch encircled his wrist, and a cheap silver chain stretched around his slender neck. The guy was definitely handsome, with a few Nordic features watered down by a deluge of something more European. French, probably, given his prominent nose and dark brows. He was slim, like a junior varsity tennis player. Not a very big guy. I realized, though, he was about three or four inches taller than I was, now. He probably had some muscle on me, too. It made my tool go hard. I flinched.

"See, he's all ready, Trevor," Phil said. His voice was deeper again, and as he stepped into the surer light of the room, I could see he was sporting a thick reddish-golden beard shadow. Surely this could not be my roommate. It had to be his hunky older brother. But no, that deep pettiness lurking beneath his ice-blue eyes told me otherwise.

And Trevor. I couldn't believe how my perceptions had been skewed. This was Trevor Golding, from the tennis team? I had taught him a lot about lifting weights before I had finally gotten frustrated with his attitude. He thought money could buy him anything, and had tried coaxing me into getting him steroids and whatever other new miracle drugs he could think of. When something got let slip to his wealthy father, whose own parents were responsible for the college's Golding Hall, Trevor had nearly been disowned.

"This isn't Dane Jackson," Trevor told Phil straight off. "You're trying to bullshit me." Trevor's voice was unusually high-pitched for a guy of about 5'11. I had never paid much attention to his height, but he was an inch or two taller than Phil.

I could practically see Phil debating whether or not to use his voice's powers on Trevor. He stayed strong against it. "You'll see, Trevor. Besides, if you're not satisfied, I'll give you your money back."

"It's disgusting. Letting some guy cum on me. You'll probably take pictures of it and send them to my parents."

"I told you you could trust me, Trevor. Don't you believe me?" Phil looked at Trevor, spearing him with his eyes.

Natural doubt and confusion--probably the lingering remnants of earlier mind control--warred over Trevor's face. Phil's will won out.

"I want a sample."

Phil smirked. Gleefully, he said, "Dane, ditch the clothes. Trevor, you want to take a look?"

I didn't immediately obey. The compulsion was still there, but it was no longer irresistable. Phil's eyes narrowed only a fraction before I was up and stripping. I stripped off my sandals, dropped my pants and boxers in one fell swoop, and yanked my t-shirt over my head. It felt good to obey Phil, but that was no longer my lifeblood and breath.

Unfortunately, Liam had not thought to shield me from embarassment. My skin was flushing again with the heat of my shame at being naked. It was not just that I was weaker, smaller, and nude in front of two people who were appraising me like a prize horse. As Trevor ran a hand over the light muscling of my chest and abdominals, my member began to stiffen. It rose, diminished but proud, between my legs.

"Pretty hung for a short shit," Trevor mocked. "I'm a little smaller than that," he said to Phil.

"I care," Phil muttered. Definitely not Phil's evil older brother.

Trevor backed away from me. "I want a free sample," he told Phil.

My roommate took an instant to acknowledge the request before granting it. "Sure," he said. "But only a little bit. Then you pay by play. You should probably ditch your clothes."

Trevor's shirt came off first. His skin was a deep golden brown, with faint flaxen down but little other hair. He had a faint six-pack and flat if defined pectorals. He had no biceps of which to speak; he was too lanky for that. As he shucked his pants and boxers, I noted that he had been exaggerating about the size of his equipment. He was hard with excitement at the possibilities, and he probably would have had trouble meeting five and a half inches on the ruler. His balls and groin were covered in more golden down.

"I want you to have an orgasm," came the order from Phil. "But don't cum too much. Into your hand."

The moment my hand touched my seven inches, I felt pleasure rocket through my senses. My eyes rolled back involuntarily, my toes began to clench and unclench, and darkness crept into my uncertain vision. I felt fire roar through me, and then... it was over. I could feel blue balls starting to set in, but dared not cringe in pain. Part of my palm was covered in sticky white goo. A streamer of it was still connected to my pounding, unsatisfied member.

Trevor reached out, but Phil's vein-tangled forearm shot out to stop him. "A little test first," he told Trevor. In his other hand, he was easily hefting a 30 pound dumbell.

Glancing reluctantly at the semen in my hand, Trevor turned toward Phil. His five inch dick bobbed its agreement.

With a grunt, Trevor attempted to curl the 30 pound dumbell in his right arm. He struggled and strained, veins burrowing out of his forehead and forearms, his slim musculature shaking with the effort. Finally, he curled it to about half way before letting it drop to the ground with a clunk.

"Now, how about some juice?" Phil gestured to my hand. "Rub it on Trevor, Dane."

I reached out with trepidation. The instant the cum on my hand touched Trevor's skin, his cock leapt. I felt the warm wetness vanish, saw Trevor's eyes widen.

A passed through him. There had not been very much to change him, I thought. But almost imperceptibly, I saw changes begin. He groaned in pleasure as his abs tightened, hardening while some of the thin layer of fat concealing them dissipated. Growing shoulders and lats and a shrinking waist turned his lanky build into a slender but noticeable V-shape.

His chest pushed outward, giving him the look of someone who had actually worked at the bench press despite poor genetics. Perhaps his biceps expanded a bit, but I couldn't tell. I did notice that a single vein stretched beneath the surface of each unflexed arm where the skin had been flat before. I originally thought his cock had merely hardened more, but as I watched, he put on a bit of size there as well. He was a good way toward six inches when the limited catalyst to his growth wore completely out. And no one would again fairly call him a pencil dick.

Trevor looked at himself with disappointment. He had not changed much, although his body had definitely metamorphosed from slender to lithely muscled. He glanced at me coolly, then bent to retrieve the weight. I didn't realize until he began to curl it with relative ease that I had been holding my breath. Trevor was smiling down at me. He looked slightly more ominous than I remembered. I hoped that was mostly in my imagination.

He pumped the 30 pound weight, and I watched the vein-split biceps of his right arm leap and swell, leap and swell, every time he curled. He was getting something of a pump, and his right biceps had formed itself into a solid goose egg of muscle.

Phil broke my rapt concentration on the muscle.

"So, how can he help you?" he asked.

[jsmith2300]

X,

I can't believe that I am the first to respond to this message.

As usual, your story has taken an interesting and unexpected turn. Your prose is amazing, and your descriptions are so vivid that I swear I can imagine them right before my eyes -- that is a feat that few authors (here at MGS or elsewhere) can manage.

I don't have anything to suggest unfortunately, though I've sent you an e-mail that provides a little more information about my feelings on your work. Perhaps you can glean something useful from it.

I think X deserves his due as one of (if not THE) best writers here.

Please more. More. More. More...!

--JSmith [[email protected]]

[sixpacked]

Truly an amazing storyline. Your writing style is excellent and really keeps your attention. While reading, you hope that the story will never end.
My congrats on your work.

[skumbum]

You're a really talented writer.

[Xyggurat]

Thanks for responding. I'm utterly exhausted, or I'd have something more significant to say.

-X-

P.S. I'll have at least another chapter done this week.

[Kymuscleboy]

I'm so excited to see this story continued! As previously mentioned, you are a very gifted writer. I'm looking forward to more.

[joel24242]

Well.... way to go man on a top story and a series that just seems to go from strength to strength, who says the sequals can't be better than the inital story. Keep up the nice work, you have yet another avid reader waiting for the next installment.

[RyBearATL]

Looking forward to more!

[jsmith2300]

X,

Any progres on additional chapters of The Roommate? I'm DYING for more!

--JSmith

[JDdefiant]

yes yes, I love the power struggle between good and evil.
perhaps have Phil or Jason recruit a couple more small guys and have them grow
or even a little ironic would be if Phill helps some of Dane's old jock buds get bigger.
and whats going on with Christian?

[dartagnan]

Oh Please! I can't wait to read the next chapter!!! I know it's not easy to write such a great story, but I'm just hard thinking of what can happen to all the boys...

[unstud]

i have to admit, i check back here almost every day, looking for the continuation of this story. it's honestly one of the best-written stories i've seen here, IMHO. please please please don't deprive us too much longer!

[theseventhwave]

Unstud - I had a good laugh at your posting because I too check back everyday! I am EAGERY awaiting the next chapter (many, many chapters) of this HOT, AMAZING, HOT, SUPERB, HOT, AWESOME, HOT story (did I mention that I think it's hot?).

Xyggurat - you are an amazing writer. This story line started out awesome and is going in directions that are blowing my mind (so hot). I appreciate that you probably have other things to do in your life besides continuing this story, but can you really say that you are as truly gifted in any other parts of your life as you are in storytelling? (if so, then wow!) I love this story!

I love the fact that the growth is not a "zero-sum-game" (meaning that the amount of growth is not equivalent to the amount of shrinking - just personal taste - I'm not here to read about "muscle loss"). However, I love the slow juxtaposition between Dane and Phil. This has to do with some of the elements of your writing - we don't just see Phil's growth from Dane's perspective, we also feel how Dane feels as he sees this young stud grow (and we feel Dane's wary sense of foreboding). Just a note - in the chapters since Phil has outgrown Dane, we haven't had a direct confrontation between the two of them (i.e. now that Phil can physically dominate Dane and no longer needs his voice, it would be hot for the two of them to have another measuring session, or an armwrestling contest, or a wrestling match, etc.).

Your descriptions of the growth scenes are extremely hot (feel free to drag those parts out!). I also love the incremental growth - the fact that the growth does not happen all at once. For example, in the latest chapter we see skinny Trevor add just a small amount of muscle (and Dane notices an ominous attitude change - which is incredibly hot) - this allows us to savour the growth (instead of getting it all over with at once). I am looking forward to seeing Trevor take up Phil's offer for more growth.

Finally, I L.O.V.E. the recent twists in the storyline. The potential war between the good symbiote and the evil symbiote(s) [note the plural!] has the potential for many many many more chapters (all eagerly awaited). You blew my mind with your description of what Phil's symbiote will try to do - create an army of vengeful muscle studs. I would love to see Phil getting bigger and using Dane and others to grow more hosts.

Xyggurat - please keep writing! I'm holding my breath!............................

[skumbum]

I keep checking back, 2-3 times a day, hoping for updates!

[Xyggurat]

Yeah, I know it's been awhile.

But I'm working. I promise. I just wanted to let you all know to be on the lookout within the next week or so. Heck, maybe even tonight.

-X-

[theseventhwave]

Xyggurat! Don't tease me like this! You can't let slip some vague hint about "maybe tonight" if you aren't going to follow through with it!!!!

My poor (impatient) little brain can't take all of this suspense! My imagination is running amok with anticipation! What will Phil make Dane do next?!!? How big will Phil allow Trevor to get!?!?! Will Phil finally have a confrontation with Dane!?!?! Ever since Phil has surpassed Dane in size/strength, we have been eagerly awaiting a confrontation between our two protagonists. Will it finally happen!?!?!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!

(and I'm supposed to be working on schoolwork right now!)

[theseventhwave]

Xyggurat......Hello Xyggurat.......This is Phil........

I am telling you that you need to write the next chapter (or chapters) to my story. Yes, "MY" story.....you didn't think this story was about that "Dane" did you? We all know who's in control here. And Xyggurat.....it's time for you to get to work and finish the next chapter. You don't want to keep me waiting......you don't want to know what I will do to you if I get impatient.............


;-)

[theseventhwave]

Xyggurat! These most recent chapters of your super hot story are almost at 4100 views! You should take this as an indication of just how much interest there is in this excruciatingly hot story. You might be tempted to think that a couple thousand of those views are mine, but that would not be true. I have this amazing series downloaded to my palm so that I can read it on the bus on my way to and from school (and sometimes at school too!!!).

Xyggurat! My brain is melting with anticipation of the next chapters!

I can't wait to see what Phil will allow Trevor to do with Dane's cum! Will Phil's symbiote finally decide to reproduce? Will we ever get another one-on-one between Phil and Dane now that Phil is the bigger of the two? And (picking up on what Liam said) just how "worse" will things get for Dane?

Xyggurat - what do I have to do to help you get the next chapters rolling? Can I wash your car for you? Mow your lawn? Do your laundry?

Seriously - all of my rantings are meant to be taken in good fun - I am only trying to convey the interest, excitement, and enjoyment I receive from your stories - and I am trying to show you that I am interested in the continuation of this (wonderful) series. Please keep up the great work!

Justin
P.S. It seems as if everytime I have a paper due - I'm on this board posting a comment - I am beginning to wonder if I'm coming here for procrastination, or for inspiration! ;-)