Madagascar Charm 2

[ttownlittlebear]

If you like me you've wanted to read this story from time to time, and like me you really like it. But I always had a hard time finding it. So I'm going to solve that problem and I'm reposting it here. Enjoy

The Madagascar Charm 2

By Ventrego


Part 1
You’ve met me before, although you probably don’t remember. My name’s Walter, and I’m a cursed man. Well, cursed may not be the right word, as others have been far less lucky than I.
Years ago, while traveling in Madagascar, I grievously offended a landowner. When I tried to make amends, he captured me and took some blood from my arm. This blood was used to enchant a bracelet which I have learned to dread.
You see, this bracelet keeps coming up again and again in my life. Whoever owns it has power over me. Some are kind, some are cruel, but from the moment they grab that charm I’m under their control.
But, I’m getting ahead of myself...
I was stranded by the side of the highway, a duffel bag full of clothes my only possession. It was late autumn, and a chill breeze blew along the asphalt. The fields around were still green, but summer’s rich hue was starting to fade. I let my mind wander as I waited for someone - anyone - to come by to give me a lift. I hoped to make it to the state line by nightfall, and from there, who knows?
I woke from a doze when I heard a motor approaching. A four-door black Jetta appeared over the crest of the hill. I dutifully stood up and thrust out my thumb. The car slowed, then stopped in front of me.
The driver leaned over and rolled down the passenger-side window. “Need a lift?” he said.
I read him as quickly as I could. 6’1” tall, around 250 pounds, he had brown hair and a short brown goatee. A small spare tire pushed his khaki shirt taut around his middle. Despite the cool weather, he was still wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. His hairy forearms and legs said “bear”, but his hands didn’t look like he’d done any physical labor in his life. His face was masculine, but he had a kind air about him that made me trust him. “Sure...” I said, opening the door. I tossed my duffel bag in the back seat and joined him in the car.
As we drove down the highway, he told me that he was in Information Technology for some big company, that the pay was good even if the job was stressful. When he stretched, that’s when I saw the object I so feared fastened firmly around his left wrist. I barely listened as he told me about his work and his cabin in the woods where he was going to take a well-needed vacation.
He looked over and saw the expression on my face. “Hey...buddy, you OK? Do you need me to stop?”
I took a deep breath and tried to force some color back into my cheeks. “Yeah, I’m fine...it’s just...too long by the side of the road I guess.”
“No problem...” he said. “I’m stopping at the next gas station anyway, we can get you some food.”
I said that would be nice and the conversation lapsed for a bit.
“My name’s Mike, by the way...” He steered with one hand while offering me the other.
“Walt. Walter, but my friends call me Walt.” I said, returning the handshake.
“So...Walt...tell me a little about yourself. Where are you heading? You don’t look much older than eighteen...are you even that old?”
I winced. I was actually in my early thirties, but he’d have never believed that. I looked sixteen, and not an old sixteen either. At 5’6” and just over a hundred pounds, I could understand why he’d mistake me for a teenager. “I’m..umm...twenty-three.” I said. “I know I don’t look that old...I’ve been hearing that for years.”
He looked over. “You don’t sound happy about it,” he said.
“Well...let’s just say it gets old being asked for ID when you turned eighteen years ago.”
Mike scratched his goatee. “Do you shave?”
“Yeah...pretty much every day.”
“Well, that might help. Grow a mustache - a big bushy one, if you can - then people won’t think you’re underage.”
Suddenly my nose was being tickled by hair on my upper lip. I whipped my hand up to rub my nose, and felt a sizable stache now perched on my face. I turned to face the window so Mike couldn’t see it, cursing the day that bracelet was made.
Unfortunately for me, the next gas station was only one mile away. Before I could think of a good diversion, Mike had pulled in next to a pump. “Well, we’re here...why don’t you go get some food while I fill up?”
I nodded and got out of the car without looking at him. I could see his worried look reflected in the glass window of the gas station as I walked in. I looked for some soda, starting at my appearance when the glass-door of the cooler showed it to me. I still looked sixteen, but like a sixteen year-old-with a big fake mustache. After paying for a sandwich and soda, I asked the clerk for the key to the restroom. Mike was still filling the tank as I ducked around the building into the men’s room.
I guess I was hoping he’d just leave without me. After ten minutes, I was beginning to think he might’ve when I heard a knock on the door.
“Walt?”
I sat silent for a few tense seconds.
“Walt? I know you’re in there...the clerk gave you the key. Is everything alright?”
Realizing I was going to have to sooner or later, I opened the door.
Mike started for a second when he save my face. “Did you just put that on?” he asked, touching the bristly stache.
My mind scrambled. “Y...yes...no...I mean...”
Seeing his perplexed look, I sighed. I decided I’d better tell him what was up before he accidentally did something dangerous. “Why don’t I tell you about it on the way.”
It took hours for me to tell him the whole story. I told him about the man in Madagascar, the African magician who’d enchanted the bracelet with my blood, how my body was under his control, and the stories of the people who’d held the bracelet previously. He winced, hearing about what the man in Africa had done when I was under his control, and grinned when I told him how I’d met Hall, and the fun we’d had together. When I told him about Hall’s death due to a careless driver, he put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder and pulled over to the side of the road.
“Well...” he said. “That was quite a story! I’m sorry to hear about Hall...”
“It’s OK...” I replied. “We had a lot of good times together.”
“I don’t want to be pushy or anything, but this is where I turn off the main highway. Would you like to come along to my cabin with me, or should I let you off here?”
I looked at him like he was an idiot; tact is not my strong suit. “You’ve got the charm, Mike. I’m under your control.”
Mike sighed. “Well, your body is, I guess...but you’re still your own person. As intrigued as I am, I’m not about to hold you captive to use as I please - you’re not a sex toy, damn it! If you get out of the car, you can go your way freely. I promise I’ll never use the bracelet again as long as I live.“
I looked outside the window at the desolate stretch of road, then back at him, unsure what to do.
“You’re welcome to come up to my cabin with me,” said Mike. “If you’d prefer, you can just come up for the night, and I’ll drop you off at a truck stop about five miles from here in the morning. I won’t lose any of my vacation, and you get a safe place to stay the night. Sound like a deal?”
I nodded as tears welled up in my eyes. The car accelerated onto the turnoff, and soon we were heading through dense woods. Neither of us said anything during the twenty-minute drive through the woods to Mike’s vacation cabin. “There’s only the one bed here, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch...” Mike apologized. I assured him that it was no problem as I tossed my duffel bag down beside it. The cabin was pretty nice inside, rustic and cozy, clean and tastefully done.
Mike showed me where the bathroom was and suggested I clean up. “It’ll take me a half-hour or so to get everything aired out and dinner started,” he said. I thanked him and shut the door. I enjoyed the feel of hot water and soap on my skin, trying my best to relax. My hands found their way to my four-inch hard-on and I began stroking myself. I felt the pressure rising when I heard the door to the bathroom open.
“Sorry to barge in,” Mike said apologetically, “but I forgot to leave some towels in here.” He set them on the back of the toilet, and turned to leave. Unfortunately, the clear glass shower door did nothing to hide my position. I was standing there, hand on my rapidly-softening dick. There was an awkward moment.
“Oops...sorry..” said Mike quietly, and he ducked out out of the bathroom quickly.
I was too embarrassed to continue. I shut the water off, and grabbed one of the freshly-folded towels Mike had left. When I stepped out, I found he’d left a robe for me to wear. I wrapped myself in it and stepped into the living area.
Somehow, Mike managed to make dinner relaxing. The vegetable lasagna was really good, and Mike talked about his job and life as we chatted. The wine had us both somewhat buzzed as we sat back at the end of the meal, full and content.
“So...Walt...” Mike said. “I know you’re older than sixteen...what do you really look like?”
I shrugged. “I’ve been changed around so many times, for so long, I don’t even remember what I looked like originally.”
“Would you like to see?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Naaah...I’m not really attached to it any more.”
“Well, what do you want to look like? I mean, I’m enjoying having you here, but it’s hard to treat a sixteen-year-old as an equal. Not to mention I’ve wanted to rip that fake-looking mustache off you at least six times tonight.”
I grinned. “Hey, you put it there!”
“Well, it’s the first thing to fix. Un-grow that mustache.”
The mustache vanished off my face.
Mike laughed. “Epilady would love to market these bracelets! Now, how old are you really?”
I replied that I was in my mid-thirties.
“Well, then...umm...grow up...I mean...”
I shifted in my chair as my height increased to 5’9”. My frame filled out a bit as I ripened into manhood. I felt stubble forming on my cheeks and chin. Even my dick and balls grew slightly. I re-adjusted the robe to cover myself.
“How’s that?” Mike asked.
I got up and walked into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. A handsome, masculine face looked back at me. It wasn’t a bad look, but between the short hair and the boy-grown-up face, I looked a little too preppy.
“Do you like it?” Mike asked.
“Well...” I said. “It could be a little more..umm...rugged? assertive?”
“A man after my own heart...” said Mike, scratching his goatee. “I don’t suppose this thing’ll work on me, will it?”
“Nah...but what needs changing on you anyway?”
Mike blushed at the compliment. “heh...well...let’s see how you look with a mustache now.”
Moments later, my upper lip housed a half-inch-long dark brown mustache. I grinned.
“Let’s see how you look with a a flattop.”
Suddenly my hair rearranged itself into a short, military-looking cut. I swept one hand through it and smiled at my reflection.
“That is a VERY good look for you, Walt,” said Mike, leaning on the door jamb with a wide grin on his face. “You could be a cop or something.”
I looked back at Mike and scanned him up and down. In case I wasn’t sure he was my type, my dick made sure I knew it.
Mike looked down at the 6” tube of flesh peeking out of the front of my robe. “You know, there’s something I’ve always wanted to try...” he said. He whispered into my ear, then asked, ‘Would that work, and are you up for it?”
I grinned. “Yes and yes.”
He repeated what he’d just whispered to me loud enough for the charm to work, then dropped to his knees. Moments later, I was grabbing the sink for support - I wasn’t used to getting head, I usually had to give it! Mike slid his mouth up and down the length of my dick, and I thrust gently towards him as he continued to suck. I knew I’d blow my load pretty quickly if he kept it up, so I grabbed his head and pinned it against the base of my dick. His eyes and jaw opened wider as my dick reached the back of his mouth and entered his throat.
Suddenly he coughed, then pulled quickly off me. “Damn...” he said, eyeing my eight-inch cock. “Now I know why people have trouble giving ME head!”
“Are you sure you want to keep going?” I asked. My cock was throbbing, I desperately wanted him to say yes.
He nodded, shuffled backwards a few inches, and took the head of my still-growing dick into his mouth again. He started rubbing it with his tongue, and moments later all I cared about was how good the blow job was feeling.
Mike was stroking his own dick as mine continued to expand, forcing him to lean backwards. His bravely kept working it as his mouth stretched wide open. I looked down to see his cheeks bulging with the first few inches of my foot-long meat, and went over the edge.
Mike probably hadn’t planned on such a generous load. He tried to swallow, but his motions only spurred my 12” cock to pump more into his mouth. Cum ran out around his lips when the next spurt hit. Seeing his distress, I shoved him roughly off the end of my dick and stroked myself through the rest of a thirty-second orgasm, splashing him with ribbons of jizz. As he jacked his own dick, his smaller shots mingled with mine.
It took us a few seconds to recover. “Damn! Umm...sorry about that.” I said sheepishly, looking down at the mess I’d made.
“No...gulp...no problem.” Mike said, leaning backwards weakly. He wiped a few huge globs of cream off his face and flung the sticky mess into the sink. “Do I look like I didn’t like it?” He indicated his still half-hard dick, and I grinned. I grabbed a towel and cleaned off my 6” soft meat while he took a quick shower. We cuddled together in bed and let sleep overtake us.


Part 2
I awoke to the smell of coffee and hash browns. Mike had left some boxers on the dreser for me. I put them on and grinned at the obscene bulge my big dick made in them. I took a moment to admire my gruff-looking, rumpled face for a moment in the mirror. It felt good to be in an adult body again. When Mike saw me walk into the kitchen, he smiled.
“Good morning, Walt,” he said. “I hope you’re hungry, because I made plenty of breakfast for both of us.”
I looked at my plate piled high with eggs and hash browns covered in gravy. “Actually, I am pretty hungry...but look at this! What’re you trying to do, fatten me up?”
Mike set his plate down on the table, equally loaded. “If I am, then I’m probably trying to fatten both of us up.” he said laughing. “Seriously...you have to have a good breakfast to start the day. Dig in!”
He obviously wasn’t as talkative early in the morning as he seemed intent on finishing the big helping of food in front of him. Still hungry from weeks on the road, I followed suit.
Fifteen minutes later, Michael took the plates off the table, emptied of their contents. “Man, that was a good breakfast.” I said, rubbing my full stomach. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” said Mike, sitting back down across the table from me. “So how do you like your new body, Walt?”
I stretched and surveyed my 5’9”, 180# frame. “It’s nice being an adult again, that’s for sure.”
“I can imagine. Do you have anything to wear?”
I looked sheepish as I said, “Nothing that’ll fit me now.”
Mike nodded knowingly. “Plenty of clothes to fit a short teenager, huh? I suppose I can lend you some of mine...Why don’t we make you my size for a while, until you can pick out something you like.
My chair tilted backwards slightly as I shot up four inches taller. “Whoa!”I exclaimed, trying to regain my balance as my frame filled out a little more. Soon I was a chunky 250#. The boxers Mike had given me strained underneath a small beer belly that had formed in front of me.
Mike grinned as I examined my new heft. “I hope you don’t mind a few extra pounds, my clothes won’t fit right without them.”
“It’s...um...something I’ve never tried before.” I said as I shifted myself back into a comfortable position on the chair. The feel of a soft gut bulging over the waistband of my underwear was something completely new to me. It wasn’t really unpleasant, but I wasn’t sure if I liked it either.
Mike waited in the living room as I rifled through his dresser to find clothes I liked, especially a pair of boxers that fit. When I stepped out into the main room, Mike said, “It’s interesting seeing how my clothes look to other people. I guess I dress pretty well, except my jeans don’t bulge quite that much in the crotch when I wear them.” When I sat down in the easy chair, he asked, “Do you mind if I try something, Walt?”
“Go ahead.” I replied.
“Well, first, let’s see your meat shrink back down a more normal size - like mine. You’re making me feel inadequate!”
I chuckled a bit as the bulge in my pants receded to match Mike’s - still substantial, but not awkward.
“Now you need long hair and a goatee. Not a short one like mine - a big bushy one. You should be stronger, too...a little more muscular. Let’s see those shirt buttons straining.”
Everything happened just as he said. Dark-brown hair flowed from my head down to my shoulders. Moments later I was sitting there with a goatee so big it blocked a little of my view when I looked down, and my chest and arms bulged in the confines of the dress shirt.
Mike seemed pleased with the results. “Before we go any further, Walt, I have to know...am I dropping you off at the truck stop, or are you staying with me for the week?”
“This seems like a pretty nice place to spend a week...” I said with a grin. Mike’s own grin spread from ear to ear as he stepped towards me. “In that case, you’d better stand up.”
I obliged, looking eye-level into Mike’s handsome face. “This is something I’ve always wanted to do, Walt,” he said as he adjusted his crotch. “Lose the belt and unbutton those slacks, please.”
I obliged, looking puzzled.
“I want to see you get fatter. Bust right out of those clothes.”
My eyes opened with surprise - I’d been one inch tall, a caveman, a teenager, and a short musclestud, but this was the first time a chubbychaser had owned the charm. I felt the already-tight shirt shift, and pull taut around my midsection. Suddenly I felt like I was wearing my teenager-sized underwear again as my waistline expanded past the capacity of the slacks. I grunted a bit as my gut pushed forward and sideways. My pecs grew somewhat softer as gaps appeared between the buttons of the shirt. Mike’s jaw had dropped and he was getting hard without even touching himself. I think I muttered “mmmph...oh, man...” as the slacks strained tighter around my widening thighs. Even my face felt different, warm and kind of numb like it was under a layer of jell-o.
First one button popped, then the seat tore out of the pants. As I turned to see, three more buttons broke off the shirt. Ten seconds later I was over three hundred pounds, and Mike’s ruptured slacks had fallen off of me. His shirt was in three large pieces - the sleeves had separated at the shoulders, and only the top few buttons held the front together. I moved my arms, and the back of the shirt tore from my shoulders to my now-substantial ass. I looked down in shock at my suddenly-enlarged body; I was fat!
I looked up at Mike, who was almost beside himself. “This is just amazing...” he said, circling me and appraising the view. “Okay, I am DEFINITELY going up to 300 pounds, wardrobe be damned!”
I shifted awkwardly. The extra weight made my motions feel difficult and kind of sluggish. When I saw my profile in the mirror, though, I almost gasped. Long hair, a bushy goatee, and about a hundred extra pounds made me look like a blue-collar worker or a biker or something. I ran one hand over my torso, feeling the new bulges and curves I’d developed. It felt completely new, and good enough that my dick was at half-mast.
“Do you like what you see, Walt?” Mike said hopefully.
I turned to face the miror, now so broad that I had to turn a bit from side to side to see myself completely. “Hmm...” I said, bouncing my new potbelly experimentally. I was used to physical changes, but having the extra addition to my frame was something new. It was like waking up to discover you’ve always had another foot or something, and just never realized it. “Just give me some time to get used to it.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to do just that,” Mike said. “As much as I want to jump you right now, we’ve still got to go the truck stop to get you some clothes.”
“But...’ I said, sweeping my arms in a vain attempt to indicate the tattered remnants of my clothes.
“Don’t worry about it,” Mike said. “I’ve got some sweatpants with an elastic waistband that you can wear. My shirts won’t even come close to fitting you, but you won’t be the first guy to go into this truckstop without a shirt on. Trust me on that one.”
I almost wanted to ask him what that meant, but he was already halfway to his bedroom. A minute later he reappeared with a pair of 2XL gray sweatpants. “Even if I do say so myself,” he said as I donned the pants. “I’d make one fine big biker daddy!” I slipped into an extra pair of sandals he had waiting by the door and stepped out into the crisp day.
Before, the chilly weather would have bothered me. Instead, I felt the cold against my skin, but somehow didn’t feel at all like shivering. I rubbed the cool skin on my belly to make sure I wasn’t misreading my new body.
“We can put the heat on in the car until you get a shirt,” Mike said.
“Um...nah, thanks, that’s okay.” I demurred as I opened the passenger-side door.
Getting into the car with my new weight was interesting. When I tried to bend over to climb in like I normally would, my spare tire pushed back against me. I tried from a few different angles, and finally ended up exhaling as I crumpled my body into the car.
Mike looked over to see me hit the seat with a loud “oof”. He chuckled. “I’m not sure, but I think most big guys swing themselves into the car instead of climbing straight in. It’s not much of a problem for me yet, but I learned ten pounds ago that it made it easier.”
“I’ll....I’ll keep that in mind,” I said as I pulled the seatbelt out as far as it would go. Then I swung the buckle around my ample midsection and fastened myself in. I almost jumped as the seatbelt tightened, the strap sliding back underneath my roll and pushing up into my six-inch overhang. I pulled on the strap to adjust it as I shifted my bulk around a bit.
“Are you ready to go, or do you want to fiddle with the seat belt all day?” Mike asked, grinning.
“Look, I’ll get used to it on the way. Let’s go get me some clothes that fit.”
Mike chuckled as he backed the car onto the dirt lane leading back to the highway. As he talked about the legends of the forest we drove through, he kept sneaking glances at me. Unfortunately, my body had developed intertia in unexpected places. I was too busy being thrown around by bumps in the road to listen to his words or his looks.
I breathed a small sigh of relief when we reached the highway. Michael, misinterpreting it as a sign of boredom, said, “But listen to me going on about the lumberjacks and loggers around here. Why don’t I tell you about the truck stop?”
I rolled my eyes - I really didn’t want to hear about the place before we got there - but Mike seemed more comfortable talking so I let him continue for the three minutes it took to reach it.
There were three or four rigs parked on the dirt outside the small combination restaraunt and fuel station. Despite the healthy mark-up on diesel, there was actually one rig at the pumps as we pulled in. “I might as well get some gas while I’m here,” said Mike, pulling up to the other side of the same pump.
As he pulled up next to the pump, another truck pulled off the highway and swerved over to our side of the fuel island. It screeched to a stop inches from the back bumper of Mike’s car and honked.
Mike looked over at the truck to see the driver having a fit, then unlocked the cover on his gas tank. The trucker hit his air horn, a piercing blast that got the attention of every person in the area and several deer walking near the highway.
I popped open my door, and tried to climb out of the car. My attempts were unsuccessful until I grabbed the doorframe and pulled myself out. I walked around to the truck where Mike was inserting the nozzle into the tank.
“What’s his problem?” I asked, indicated the truck driver fuming in his seat.
Mike shrugged. “These guys, they get in a hurry, and they don’t want to share the road with four-wheelers. Especially waiting for fuel.”
I looked at the rig on the other side of the pumps - its pump was still going, and had been since we pulled up. “But why would he get mad at you? You need gas too!”
“I guess he thinks he has more right to it because it’s a truck stop or something.” Mike said. “If I were him, I’d be glad to be behind a car...those rigs can take fifteen or twenty minutes to fuel, I’ll be out of here...”
The nozzle trigger banged back against the handle. Mike hung the nozzle back on the pump and got back in the car. I followed suit as he started the engine. The truck honked again, using the city horn this time. “Just for that, you can wait another ten seconds,” Mike said. He sat there, counting silently. I checked my rearview and could see the trucker yelling and gesticulating inside the cab of his rig.
Mike pulled forward and parked the car at the entrance to the main building. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s pay for the gas and get you some clothes.”
As we surveyed the meager selection of jeans and western shirts available at the convenience store, the impatient trucker stormed in. He was a big brute of a guy, easily 6’4”, with a beefy build and a round potbelly that obscured his oversized belt buckle. His long hair and thick goatee framed a face that made it clear he didn’t put up with much from life, or anyone in it. As the guy paid for his fuel, he asked if the truck stop had a shower. “We’ve got one in the john,” the clerk replied. “Towels are a five dollar deposit.” The trucker yanked the towels off the counter and stormed back towards the restroom.
Mike and I we were too busy trying to find something for me to wear to pay much attention. Fortunately, plenty of stuff fit me; apparently truckers went from size medium to four-X L and occasionally larger.
My jaw dropped when I pulled out a 9XL shirt. It looked like a small fabric tent that had “big to the bone” emblazoned across on the back. “Wow!” I exclaimed. “I thought I was fat, imagine the guy that could fill this!”
Mike grinned and stretched the shirt to its full width. “That would have to be one heck of a potbelly, that’s for sure. You know what, I need to take a leak. Pick out some clothes to try on...and remember...” His smirk was very expressive. “...with a little help from me, anything you like, fits!”I laughed quietly as Mike turned to go to the men’s room.
A minute later, he came out with a cunning look on his face. “You know, Walt, I’ve always kind of had a fantasy about sex in a truck stop...and there’s a shower open....”
I grinned; I’d been aching for sex since I woke up, and Mike was either too gracious to take advantage or too dense to notice. “Should I buy this, then?” I asked, pulling out the 9X tee again.
“Naah...how about something more like...” Mike flipped rapidly through the rack and pulled out a 3X solid-color western dress shirt. “And...” he turned to the stack of jeans and pulled out a pair with a 44” waist. He grinned sheepishly as he handed them to me. “I’ve always had a thing for big truckers.”
“No kidding!” I said as I surveyed the width of the waist on the jeans.
“Walt, if you’re not up for anything I suggest, please just say so. I don’t want to push you into anything...”
I looked into his face and read the concern there. It reminded me of Hall and how well he’d treated me. “Mike, you’re showing me stuff I’ve never seen before, and so far I like it. Make what you want happen and quit asking me about it. If we’re heading somewhere I don’t want to go, I’ll let you know, okay?”
Mike grinned and nodded. “In that case, here’s some cash. Pay for those and come into the men’s room. I’ll be in the shower by the time you get back there.” He held the bracelet up and spoke into it like it was a microphone. “When you get into the men’s room, you’ll grow to fit the clothes you put on. Then you’ll join me in the shower and get a raging ten-inch hard-on.”
I smiled at him. “You don’t need the charm to give me one of those. And by the way, it’s not a Star Trek communicator...you can just talk normally.”
Mike blushed a little.
“Now get back there and start showering so I can bust in on your pansy ass.” I growled.
Mike blushed more and got a goofy grin on his face. He turned and all but ran into the men’s room. I had to admit, he was a fun guy to please.
Two of the fattest drivers I’d ever seen were standing up at the register. I’m not a good judge of weight, but if they’d said they were six hundred pounds each I’d have believed them. When I saw them leave together, I wondered if they were a couple - and if there was enough room for both of them in a rig! After paying for the clothes, I ripped the tags off on the way to the bathroom/shower area. I swung the door open as quietly as I could and stepped into the clean, tiled room. What I saw stopped me in my tracks.
The back of the brute of a trucker filled the entrance to the shower. He was buck naked, his dirty tee shirt and jeans left lying in the middle of the room. I heard him growl something about making him wait again, then he shoved someone roughly against the wall. I couldn’t see around him, but it didn’t take a genius to realize Mike was in trouble.
“Hey asshole!” I yelled.
The trucker looked over his shoulder. He sneered at me. “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you after I’m done with your nancy friend here.” I charged him but he just laughed and knocked me back with one hand. Damn, that fucker was strong!
I fell backwards onto his clothes. The brute evidently decided I wasn’t man enough to retaliate, and turned back to Mike. When he crushed Mike up against the wall, the yell told me it wasn’t just Mike’s personal space being invaded.
I tried to stand and my hand slipped on the brutes’ shirt. Something clicked in my brain, and I quickly pulled on the 5XL tee.
The trucker gave a surprised yell as I grabbed one of his arms and yanked him away from Mike, who stood frozen for a moment, unsure what was going on or what he should do. I didn’t even give the trucker a chance to fight, I just grabbed his arms and yanked them over his shoulders and backwards behind his head. “What the fuck!” he yelled, struggling against me. Thanks to his filthy shirt, I was every bit the beefy strongman he was, and I had better leverage.
Mike stood up and walked towards us. He looked up at two oversized men with big goatees straining against each other. He looked at me strangely for a moment, but When he saw what I was wearing, he said, “Good thinking, Walt! Very good thinking indeed. Keep him there.”
As Mike walked over to the sink, holding his head in his hands, the trucker spat out, “You wanted it!”
Mike turned numbly. “You know what...the worst part is, you’re right. I wanted a rough trucker fuck more than anything.”
He picked up his pants and rifled through the pockets. Pulling out three quarters, he turned to the condom machine, which promptly spat out a sealed packet.
He tore it open and pulled out the prophylactic as he stepped in front of the seething trucker. The guy growled, “Fucking faggot! Have this bastard let me go before I beat you both to blody pulps!” He wrestled against my hold, but I just pulled up slightly and the pain of two shoulders about to dislocate calmed him down.
Mike surveyed the trucker. “You know, you may be a dick, but you do have nice nipples.” He started sucking on one of the brute’s nipples while massaging the man’s big, hairy balls. Seconds later the guy was hard again against his will. Mike slipped the condom over the 5” stiff member. A quick stroke distributed the lubricant over the latex surface.
“Okay, now Walt, shift around so your meat is nestled in his crack.” I did what Mike said, since he seemed to know what he was doing.
“Now, I believe I was up against the wall like this...” Mike said, facing away from us and planting his hands against the white tile. “Walt, walk him forward so he’s up against me.” One step away from Mike, as I entered the shower, I felt a stirring in my crotch. “Um...Mike...” Suddenly the trucker started fighting mightily, wrenching his arms back and forth.
Mike backed up against the trucker, who stopped struggling once Mike was in place. Mike moved back and forth a bit. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you big guy. Well let’s see how you like this. Now, Walt, all the way in.”
I suddenly caught Mike’s double meaning - and what he was up to. As I shoved the two of them against the wall, I stepped completely into the shower. And, just as Mike as had said I would, I popped a raging ten-inch hard-on - right into the trucker’s ass.
He hollered plenty, but I just kept his arms pinned as I backed out a little and slid into him again. After the trucker had quieted down some, Mike said, “Walt, not to be critical, but are we just going to stand here?”
“I’m trying to be gentle...” I said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Walt, I get to go along for the ride as two beefy truckers ram up against me. Don’t be gentle. In fact, you’re too horny to be gentle.”
Suddenly my dick throbbed, aching for release. I could tell the trucker felt it, because a small grunt escaped his lips. I pulled five inches out of him and slammed it back in, hard. Both he and Mike went “ooof” as I jammed both of them against the wall. I slammed into them two more times before giving them a moment to recover.
“Oh, yeah!” said Mike. “You’re much, much too horny!”
Suddenly all that mattered was my dick, red-hot and screaming for release. I pounded against that trucker with all my (his) might, going faster and harder as my balls began to boil. The feel of that brutes’ wide ass compressing against my thrusts only made me push harder...and harder...
I can’t remember the next few minutes. It was a haze of grunting, thrusting, and the need to bang that prick against the wall so hard he’d crack the tile. Mike must have shot at some point, because he screamed, “Okay, Walt! Enough! oof...Cum already!”
I yanked the brute off Mike and leaned backwards, lifting him up by his arms. He bellowed as his feet left the floor, but I was oblivious to his yells as I bounced him on my throbbing meat. I finally got the release I needed, shooting into his ass again and again. His limp prick flopped around as the cum-filled condom fell off it, stretched too big for the flaccid member it had contained.
I dropped the trucker to the floor, where he lay, bruised, exhausted, and spent. Mike and I cleaned ourselves up quickly and got dressed. I decided to take the trucker’s clothes; the ones I’d picked out were too small for me now. We walked out, leaving him naked and obviously fucked.
As we went back to the car, Mike looked up at me and said, “Thanks for saving my butt, Walt. Literally.”
I looked down at him and got kind of minsty-eyed. “No problem, bud,” I said, hugging his shoulders. “Anytime.”
Part 3 (no sex? what’s up with that?)
Mike seemed kind of quiet and subdued on the drive back to the cabin. When we got there, he emitted a “d’oh!” when he realized we’d forgotten to actually buy me more clothes at the truck stop! He sighed a bit when he shrunk me back down to his size, but didn’t say anything much. When he picked up a book to read after dinner, I decided my best bet was to do the same.
It was after ten o’clock when he finally started talking again. I had been engrossed in Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’, a remarkably thoughtful book and much better than the movies I’d seen. “Well, Walt, after what you did for me today, I want to do something nice for you.”
“Umm...haven’t you already done enough? I mean, I’m staying in your house, eating your food...” I held up ‘Frankenstein’. “...reading your books. If I did any favors for you, you’ve more than repaid them.”
“That’s not what i meant,” Mike said, sounding a little agitated. “I meant, like with the charm, everyone’s always ordering you around and telling you to do stuff. You should get to turn the tables once in a while. Tomorrow, I’ll do whatever you say.”
I put down the book. “Honestly, Mike, all I really want is some decent company most of the time. Reading tonight’s been really nice, usually everyone who has the charm is turning me into a total horndog most of the time.” Mike smirked a bit at the language but said, “So you’re saying, if you could order somebody to do anything - anything at all - you’d make them sit and read with you?”
I shrugged. “That sounds about right, yeah.”
“You got it, then.” said Mike. “I’m pretty tired - you must be beat after that pounding you gave us in the truck stop. Have I mentioned how great that was?”
I sighed as I stood up. “You want me to do it again?” I’m afraid some of my reluctance crept into my voice.
Mike got a funny look on his face. “Umm...that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed it, too. What say we both turn in for the night.”
The next day, I asked Mike to recommend some books for me. Soon I had a small stack next to me, among them Ibsen’s “Enemy of the People”, “Sybil” - which I found I could really relate to, and Orwell’s “Animal Farm”. I kicked back and let the books take my mind away from my real life and everything that happened since my trip to Madagascar. I hardly noticed when Mike said he was going to the truck stop and would be back in a few hours.
Around midnight, I put the last book down. “Wow.”
“It’s a lot of fun, isn’t it?” Seeing me jump, Mike grinned. I hadn’t even heard him come back.
“Yeah.” There was a moment of silence between us as my mind played back over everything I’d read that day.
“Well, Walt, I’m glad you enjoyed it. We will definitely do this again.”
Minutes later we were curled up under the warm covers together. I drifted off into the most peaceful sleep I’d had in years.
Part 4
The next morning, Mike woke me with a gentle shake. I wasn’t too tired; I would’ve woken up on my own anyway. Mike handed me a jock strap and said, “Put this on, then join me outside.” When he saw my quizzical look, he added, “I think you’ll like this. Besides, that’s where breakfast is.” A huge stack of pancakes, a pitcher of warmed syrup, and a pot of coffee waited on a picnic table outside the cabin.
Mike finished breakfast pretty quickly; he was done when I still had a few pancakes to go. He looked around and said, “You know, you’d never believe it now, but fifty years ago this forest was being heavily milled - harvested, I think the term is now. The area was full of brawny, manly men...” He chuckled. “I’ve read up on them a bit. But of the fifty or so that were out here, there’s one that stands out in my mind. According to legend, he could cut down more treees in a day than the whole rest of his camp could in a year.”
“Sounds like he had a chainsaw...” I said, grinning.
Mike let me take a few more bites before continuing. “And he had a big appetite. It took the strongest cook they had to turn the flapjacks he demanded.”
I started to detect a trend in Mike’s conversation. “Do you have something in mind, Mike?” I said around a bite of pancake.
“Well, I’ve always been curious how he managed to eat sticky syrup-covered flapjacks without messing up that beard of his. Why don’t you grow a big bushy beard and show me?”
Moments later my face was surrounded by a Grizzly Addams-style beard. “Keep going, Walt,” Mike said. He grinned as my facial hair puffed up larger and larger, my cheeks vanishing beneath fluffy dark hair three inches deep. I could feel my beard creep halfway down my chest, and a thick moustache bristled out inches past the end of my nose, completely covering my mouth.
“That’s what it looked like. Now, if you don’t mind, Walt,” Mike said. “I’m really curious how this guy managed!”
He watched me intently as I maneuvered a forkful of syrup-laden pancake up towards my mouth. My first attempt left me with a moustache filled with sticky flour bits. My next attempt wasn’t much better. The moustache obscuring a few inches in front of my mouth didsn’t help. I tried going from the side, or underneath the moustache, and only ended up with more syrup sticking in my beard. Finally I opened my mouth as wide as I could, pushed the moustache apart with one hand and crammed the pancake underneath. I’d never worked harder for a bite of breakfast in my life.
Mike grinned. “I wonder if that’s how he did it. Maybe it’d be easier if you had more of the guys’ build. Legend has it he was strong as...well, really powerful. Maybe it changed the way he moved his arms or something, and made it easier. Remember that asshole in the truck stop?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget him,” I said, an evil grin parting my huge moustache slightly.
Mike grinned back. “Don’t turn into a body builder on me here, get beefy. You’re going to grow a little broader than the trucker and...oh...six times as strong as him.”
I choked on the pancake. “Holy shit, Mike...” But my body was already responding. Feeling my skin sliding against the wooden bench seat, I lifted myself up slightly and adjusted my stance as my waist and shoulders widened...and widened... Soon, still 6’1” tall, I filled most of my side of the picnic table. I just had time to realize I’d stopped broadening when suddenly my arms twitched and I sat down hard. Obeying Mike’s command, my frame swelled heavier and thicker. I watched in amazement as my pecs filled out and jutted out in front of me. My arms kept pumping up like balloons, and even my glutes were getting bigger and more powerful. My entire body beefed up, my arms passing eighteen inches around and still swelling. My chest and shoulders formed a rapidly-widening shelf. My thickening thighs pressed against the top of the table as I began to get insanely strong. “Six times stronger, Mike...jeez!” I uttered as my round pecs bulged three inches in front of my chin and began to force my head up. Suddenly I felt a pressure on my abs I was pushed backwards inexorably as my chunky midsection grew to keep up with the rest of my body, the table top jammed hard against my strong but swelling middle.
I felt like I was being cut in half as I continued growing in the narrow space between the seat and top of the wooden picnic table. I yelled in pain. Mike was about to do something when the loudest cracking noise I’d ever heard echoed in the woods. The wooden planks forming the top of the table shifted and exploded towards Mike. He dove to the side as more of the table fractured. All four hundred fifty pounds of me plummeted to the ground as the seat broke beneath me. I lay there, not daring to move until the changes had stopped. My legs and arms spread wide as bulk piled on my frame. The small of my back left the ground as my ass and shoulders bowed out from my body. My neck rose away from the ground and pulled my head with it as my body inflated.
Finally, it stopped. I lay there, my head tiled backwards. This wasn’t as uncomfortable as it sounds, my neck was so big it formed a roll at the base of my skull, firm enough that it couldn’t go far. I found myself wondering if I’d be able to look up at the sky when I stood up.
I heard pine needles crackling as Mike stood up nearby. “Ho...holy shit.” he said in a hushed voice. “Walt, are you okay?”
I decided I might as well move. “Yeah, I’m alright.” I said, and tried to raise myself into a sitting position.
Have you ever driven a big car? I mean, a really big, heavy car, with a massive engine? Even though it’s on the same road as an econobox, takes the same turns, stops at the same lights, every time that car moves you can feel the tonnage being commanded. That’s the best way I can describe sitting up. The sheer power I exerted to raise myself upright, and the mass and intertia I felt while I did so, made me realize just how fucking big I’d gotten.
The fact that I couldn’t look down confirmed it. Sitting upright with my legs splayed out in front of me, I could see a bushy beard resting on a shelf of pecs six inches in front of my face, and my shins and feet - even they looked massive - but I couldn’t tilt my head any further forward. It felt like it was blocked by a warm overstuffed cushion; something with a little give, but not very much. I rotated my head and saw shoulders that would never need shoulder pads jutting out to either side of me. I couldn’t help but think of the man on Brawny paper towels, but he didn’t have anything on me!
I stood up, and looked at Mike. He was staring at me agape. “Wow,” was all he said, not managing to completely close his mouth. He came over and touched my arm, easily 36 inches around at the bicep. I grinned as I ran a hand over myself, feeling the body I couldn’t see directly.
The strange thing was, as massive and strong as my body was, it didn’t bulge much. That’s not true, my bones were all but buried beneath masses of fat and muscle. But I was pretty evenly beefy all over. A steel-belted spare tire nestled under my huge pecs, and it was well-matched in circumference by my waistline. The jockstrap must’ve been extra-stretchy, because it still felt comfortable around my ham-sized glutes. My arms and shoulders were huge slabs of beef, and my back was equally strong. The two fought for space underneath my shoulders, forcing my arms out from my sides. I could image why Mike was stunned; that would make me look even broader. I was absolutely freaky huge, but everything fit. I took a few steps, feeling the ground sink in a bit beneath my weight.
“Well,” I said to Mike, showing off my bulk. “if this is how the lumberjack looked, I can imagine him cutting down more trees than anyone else! Is this what you had in mind?”
Mike drew in a shaky breath. “Well...there’s one or two other things. I wasn’t sure I was going to do them, but...hell, I guess I’ve gone this far.”
“Whatever you’ve got in mind, bud, let’s go all the way,” I said. I planted myself with a very wide stance in front of him.
“Well...first, he was really hairy all over. Grow thick, dark hair everywhere, especially your chest and forearms.”
Soon the morning breeze stopped blowing as far as I was concerned. Most of my body was covered in a thick layer of fur. My enormous bare ass appreciated the protection from the wind that the jockstrap had failed to offer.
“Second, although the legends don’t really support this, I’ve always pictured him with bull-sized nuts and a big ol’ dick, so strain that jockstrap for me.” The pouch on the jock filled out and began bulging with meat. I was starting to get impatient to wrap this up. “Okay, Mike, this was some kind of logger! Are we done? I want to find a mirror and see what I look like!”
“Well, there’s one more thing...” Mike said. “Keep the proportions you’ve got now but grow about sixty feet tall. Keep the jockstrap And since breakfast is over, my own private Paul Bunyan will be horny and ready to play.”
The trees around us shrank abruptly. Suddenly my huge body was balanced on legs pressed tightly together . I tottered and, throwing out a gigantic leg to steady myself, grabbed some huge pine trees for support. My foot hit the ground with a gigantic thump, and all the pine needles in the clearing bounced. I looked down to see Mike laying on his ass, looking panicked. When he realized I wasn’t going to fall on him, he stood up and and dusted himself off. His face broke into a broad, infectuous grin.
“Hey Walt!” he yelled.
I straightened up, then knelt down next to him. “What?”
He surveyed my enormous size, the grin never leaving his face. “That is a VERY good look on you, Walt!”
I grinned and relaxed. I realized, huge as I was, Mike had everything under control. Suddenly my dick twitched in the confines of the cotton pouch. I wasn’t anywhere near as frantic as I had been in the truck stop, but looking at Mike made me want to do...something. I couldn’t figure out exactly what we could do with me being giant-sized, but I hoped he had something in mind.
He did.
“Look at the size of that thing! The size queen in me is loving this!” Mike said as he walked into the shadow underneath my enormous torso. I just stood still as he reach my crotch and hugged with all his might. Well, most of me stood still my dick began to strain harder against the jockstrap. I felt a tickling on my balls that I guessed was him licking them or something, I couldn’t really tell. Whatever he was doing, though, my meat appreciated the attention. Cool air reached my balls as my jock strap tented out in front of me. A minute later, Mike stepped back to where I could see him. “Walt, I’d love to sit on your dick to see what it’s like to have that monster between my legs, but your damn gut is too heavy to move out of the way! Do you know your fucking penis is as tall as I am?”
Leaning down to get closer to Mike, I boomed, “Well, I’m definitely ready to play! What’ve you got in mind, little buddy?”
He took a few steps back. “Well, my big hairy brute, here’s the idea. You’re horny and want my hot little bod to get you off. But do to that, you’ve gotta catch me.” He turned and charged off down the lane.
I stood up and watched him run. It took me three steps to reach him and grab him with an enormous hand. “Okay, I caught you,” I said. “Now what? Should I drop you in my jock strap?”
“Walt, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve obviously never read a good giant chase scene.”
I shrugged my shoulders - from Mike’s view, it must have looked like a mountain shrugging. Mike raised his eyebrows. “Let me help you with this one. Carry me out into the woods.” I threaded my way through the forest, trying to crush as little as possible. “I know you won’t mind this,” Mike continued, “so let me give you some motivation. Your meat is growing and you keep getting hornier. When you find me, you’ll shoot a load like only Paul Bunyan can. Now put me down.”
“Are you...uh...are you...uh...” I tried to say something, but suddenly my thoughts were diverted by an ache from my swelling balls. I put Mike down so I could adjust them, and he took off into the woods. It took me a minute a rub the blue balls out, and then the horniness hit me. My dick hardened as I rubbed, tenting the jock out in front of me. I grabbed it with my hand - it felt thick and beefy, like the rest of me. The only problem was, it was already getting bigger. I could feel the pouch stretching as my penis bulged another foot forward. What I’d thought was blue balls must’ve my nuts growing, and they felt swollen with cum. I stroked a little bit, and realized why I couldn’t get off; I needed Mike to do that!
Suddenly I needed to find that little fucker worse than I’d needed to pound the trucker in the shower. I brought my full gigantic body to bear, charing through the woods in the direction he took off. After six or seven steps, I had to stop to stroke my throbbing meat. My breath came in frantic gasps that boomed through the forest. It took me a few strokes to realize this wasn’t helping, and I bellowed in frustration, flinging trees aside as I hurled myself back into the chase, the jock bulging further in front of me with every step.
It took me almost two minutes to realize Mike couldn’t have possibly gone this far in the time he’d had. I looked around frantically, the ground shaking as I twisted my body to one side and then the other, trying to find the tiny Mike in the dense forest. I bellowed in frustration, leaving a four-lane-wide path of destruction behind me as I charged back towards where I first dropped Mike off.
Suddenly I heard a voice. It was too quiet to make out what it said so I froze, and for a moment the forest stopped bouncing with my steps. I whipped my head around as Mike yelled, “I’m over here! Over this way, Walt!”
I roared as I turned towards the voice. I drove foward it full-bore, half bent-over and knocking lodgepole pines out of the way like so much dry grass. At some point the jock strap must have broken, because my balls were flopping around my thighs and I felt the proverbial ten-foot pole swinging around as I ran. Abruptly I found myself in the clearing around Mike’s cabin. He sat on the ground near the remnants of the picnic table, rubbing a large bulge in his jeans.
I leaned over, got a good look at him, and roared as my dick swelled even bigger. I didn’t even have a chance to touch it; I just leaned back and grabbed two huge trees for support as I started shooting. My hips thrust forward, supporting what felt like a telephone pole sending stream after stream of jizz high into the air. It soared over Mike’s cabin and kocked down trees across the clearing, leaving things covered in white sticky fluid. More shots followed, soaking the ground across the way. A stream began to flow away from the clearing towards the lake. I couldn’t stop, my balls needed to empty themselves so bad that I just keep going and going.
It must have been a good three minutes before things finally slowed down. A few final shots came out of my gigantic dick, splattering wetly on e roof of the cabin and pooling at my feet. I sat down weakly, oblivious to the sticky mess I’d just dropped myself into.
I felt a tiny touch on my knee. “Are you okay, Walt?”
I looked at Mike and grinned. His pants were soaked, whether from his own load or mine, I couldn’t tell. Probably both. “That was damn good.”, I said, panting. I looked over at the stream of cum flowing from across the clearing. “I’ve just got one request.”
“Yes?” Mike said.
“Next time, don’t be so damn hard to find!”
We both started laughing as I flopped backwards and let myself sink deep into the bed of leaves on the forest floor.
Epilogue
We spent the next few days exploring each others’ fantasies, and I joined Mike at his place in the city when his vacation ended. But that’s a story for another time, my friend. Perhaps you can come back another day, and I can tell you more of what transpired when I met his co-workers. For now, I must bid you good night!

[Ventrego]

I'd like to clarify: this is my story. The original Madagascar charm, which is a great story and very inspirational, is by Reuben.

You can find this and my other works, along with those of CMBigDog, on my Yahoo! group:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bulkorama/

Thanks for reposting!

[scot158f]

Ventrego,
I love this story, and I hope you're still writing! It'd be great to see what new fantasies you've created! Hope you are well!
Scott

[philat99]

Now that would have been quite a Paul Bunyan episode for our 8th grade lit class!!! I don't even want to imagine (although I just did) how Babe fit into the scene!!!
Mike

[ttownlittlebear]

Originally Posted by Ventrego

I'd like to clarify: this is my story. The original Madagascar charm, which is a great story and very inspirational, is by Reuben.

You can find this and my other works, along with those of CMBigDog, on my Yahoo! group:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bulkorama/

Thanks for reposting!

Thanks for letting me know I mis-copied the story I fixed the story.