Virus part 2

[itamuscle66]

Here is part two - as promised.
it's an on-going project: would love to hear your comments and read plot-suggestions.
Enjoy.

VIRUS PART TWO


Mack is the name of the man driving the truck.
Mack is smiling: the lights of the cars driving behind allow the vision of his own features reflected on the glass, and he likes what he sees. The brutal beauty of a beast, whose distorted proportions make him something truly unique.

He thinks of his past, of the man he used to be and how things have changed. The things that mattered then - money, TV, food ? and the things that matter now: muscle, growing and reproduce. Few and simple were those things then, if he thinks about it, but maybe even less are the things that matter now.

He remembers that morning, on his way to work at the police station, reading the newspaper. The empty seat next to him, and that cell phone left there. Was there someone sitting there before he had gotten on the train? He remembers it: holding it up in his hand and ? suddenly ? that little sting, and a drop of blood on his finger.
Mack recalls now with a smile he could not make it to work that morning: nausea, pain, anguish. Anguish overall. Sometimes he still tries to understand why that phone had been left there, who had left it, for what reason; but it really does not matter. Was it some sort of a booby trap, the result of a scientific experiment that needed a guinea pig, or a bait for a curious cat? Mack finds it irrelevant: what is relevant now is the hardness of his muscles as he caresses himself, the insatiable sexual appetite that makes him alive, and ? overall ? the constant crave for muscles: his and of the men he has taken with him on the journey.

He remembers that morning: his mind blurred and terrified, the physical pain, trying to get back home. Now Mack understands the nature of his pain and anguish: a part of himself was fighting ? helplessly ? against an invincible demon that was taking possession of his body and mind. His human nature losing a battle that was meant to be lost. From the very beginning.
Mack that morning made it home, and barely made it back to his bedroom. The house was empty - flat mate evidently still to finish his shift - but if someone had been there, observing, would have seen something quite unique. A middle aged man, cavorting in sweat-soaked bed sheets, slowly and unconsciously beginning his trip into something unseen before.

The process had been relatively slow ? an hour, maybe two? Mack does not remember. He remembers the changes: terrifying at the beginning, but immensely gratifying in retrospective. Certainly the growth had been physical too, but it had been extraordinarily mental, overall. As pain and anguish slowly receded, and as his body grew, a new awareness took control. Fear had turned into pleasure, pain into desire.

On his frantic way home Mack had ? unconsciously - already started his own transformation. His uniform had felt unusually tight even before he could unlock the house door, and the seams had ripped apart as he had touched his bed. Mack had closed his eyes, desperately trying to find any logical explanation, while his hands were frantically exploring his own body. Something: something under the skin was growing, pulsing, expanding. Body fat melting, veins like cables surfacing, new brawn emerging.
Clothes, in tatters already, had suddenly become a burden and Mack had ripped them apart in violent yanks. Reaching his own dick had then seemed almost natural, and jerking off the only way to get rid of the residues of Mack?s old self.
Mack had tilted his head backwards, eyes still closed: orgasm was violent, liberating. Almost immediate and something like nothing experienced before. At each contraction, waves of pleasure and ecstasy had invaded his brain ? for the real first time - as volleys of cum had covered his newly expanded body, reaching his face and his mouth. Mack had never tasted anything like that before, as a new awareness, a god-like tranquility had finally taken possession of his mind.

The creature that had opened his eyes in the messy bedroom of the empty apartment had very little in common with the man that Mack had used to be. Yes, ?monster? is the world that Mack himself likes to think of when he recalls the events of those early days. The monster had slowly risen from his bed, looking at the world surrounding himself as if it had been the first time. Flexing ? slowly and in complete silence ? had been Mack?s way of celebrating his own re-birth, and exploring and caressing himself the reward.

Mack has vivid memories of those hours, when what he now calls a virus was taking full possession of his body and mind, but there are details, nonetheless, that he cannot remember: he still cannot recall when his flat mate had come back to the apartment, and had actually opened the bedroom door. How long had he been watching Mack flexing, legs wide open in the middle of the room, caressing his own bulging muscles and stroking his newly grown dick? He can only vaguely remember the horror in his eyes, paralyzed in front of Mack?s massive new form.
Seemingly he cannot recall if infecting his friend had been an accident, or simply intentional.
Does Mack matter now?

[vlad]

I'm so glad you're continuing this story, it's so hot and you write well. I hope to hear more from you. Especially if you continue the themes from the first chapter.

[rocketdog]

Exellent installment! Love the writing and the pacing.

[Freaker!!]

It should matter. But what the heck, muscle and huge double double servings of it and an irresistable urge to WorkOut, Pump Up, Pose and Worship your own and a whole gym-full of PEERS is something that just has-to take priority. Especially when the slightest contraction of a mountain of muscle festooned with striations is an orgasm in its own right.