NEW: The GARAGE Part 5

[JP71]

[COLOR=gray]Hi all. It's been months since I've been able to write. And now I'm back writing The Garage. This chapter is shorter than the others, and I could've made it longer, but I'm so keen to get back to posting stories and being a contributor once more. Just as a bit of a recap, in case you forget the story, it's about two old friends who are runited after 10 years, when one, Damien, gets a job working in the garage of the other, Stuart. Stuart is skinny and borderline anorexic, whereas Damien is the biggest most muscular bodybuilder the world has ever seen. He also has the amazing ability to draw musculature off others as a mist which he quickly draws into himself, and he also dervives great delight in eating metallic objects (something I've covered in other stories, but it gets me off, ha ha). This makes him get bigger, of course. But the curious thing about Damien is that he continues to play down his bodybuilding, mostly covering himself in a tight-fitting set of overalls when he works, despite it being a heatwave of a summer. Stuart is quickly obsessed with him, but uncomfortable with his sexuality and afraid to broach the subject with Damien. He desperately wants to talk about Damien's bodybuilding, in the hope it will get the giant super-musclehunk to show off for him so that Stuart can worship him, for Damien has quickly become Stuart's world, so much so that he even takes to watching for him outside his apartment in the early hours of the night. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Stuart has begun to think that something is not right about Damien, but his obsession for him prevents further investigation into the matter. But Damien, the sneaky devil that he is, has no problem flexing in front of a CT camera in the garage, knowing full and well that Stuart will have access to the video footage later. In the previous chapter Stuart was injured and Damien took him home, having first dressed the wound. In his delirium Stuart could not help but mouth his feelings to the giant muscleman...[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#fffacd]Previous Chapters: [COLOR=yellow]Ch1[/COLOR][COLOR=yellow], [/COLOR][COLOR=yellow]Ch2[/COLOR][COLOR=yellow], [/COLOR][COLOR=yellow]Ch3[/COLOR][COLOR=yellow], [/COLOR][COLOR=yellow]Ch4[/COLOR][/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]The Garage: Part 5[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]It was like floating on a current of near-insensate bliss. An absurd dream washed through Stuart’s troubled mind as his superhuman saviour carried him home. It was the movie King Kong in which Stuart was the ill-fated victim snatched from the safety of his companions by a band of stealthy natives and taken to their island, a place which time and evolution had chosen to ignore in equal measure...[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Doped with curious drafts and daubed with indigenous makeup and attire, Stuart, reeling from intoxication like no other felt before, was taken beyond the great gates demarcating the islander’s village and strapped to a pair of posts set onto a plinth of offering. He was Fay Wray, Jessica Lange and Naomi Watts rolled into one, starved to the point of emaciation, and finally made man. Left on the border of a great forest, his modest weight borne from his bound wrists as his feet lolled beneath him, a foreboding moon appeared in a cheerless night sky and cast all the dark and dreadful secrets of the island into stark relief.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]The natives sounded their horns, the fanfare a call into the untameable wilderness from which their darkest fears were wrought.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]For a time there was a deathly silence during which every living thing lurking in and beneath the sprawling leaf canopy respectfully abided by the rite of bowing before their King. Stuart found the silence cloying – the precursor to something terrible – and he became more animate as he hung from his bindings, now that the sedating draft had begun to wear off.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=gray]The silence was not to last, however, as the very island from which all life took succour started to shake from the ravages of mighty, booming footfalls. Stuart’s eyes grew large in his gaunt, unhealthy-looking face and sobriety laced with fear beset his every fibre, when, one by one, the dark, age-worn trees before him were pushed aside by something huge and immensely powerful. It was so huge, in fact, that the island’s human population needed a one-hundred foot high fence to keep their King contained to his domain and not theirs. The earth still shook with each footfall. Wood shattered in a shrieking chorus as it gave in to the advances of the approaching menace: the Master of all and everything upon this mist shrouded island forgotten to time and age. Eventually enough trees were pushed aside and sent crashing into the undergrowth far below so that their assailant could be seen.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Stuart saw the King, the one he’d been betrothed to, the mighty King Damien, a towering behemoth fifty feet tall and more than twenty-five feet wide at the shoulders. Rather than scream his final breaths in the hope of having his life spared via some hopeless attempt at rescue, instead Stuart gasped in utter disbelief and took in every inch of the King in a long, drawn-out and quite arousing visual assessment:[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]The ape suit looked absurdly fake, like something you’d rent from a costume store, the mask clearly designed in this dreamscape by someone who’d never seen a gorilla in his or her life, and therefore had to use their imaginations in order to approximate one. You could tell that there was a man inside of it, albeit a giant of giants. And his muscle-musk here in this arboreal psycho-scape was concentrated a thousand times over. It caused all of Stuart’s fears and uncertainties to take second place to extreme sexual arousal. The ape suit seemed loose at first, but it was quickly getting tighter as its occupant began to swell even larger before Stuart’s dreaming, but very open eyes. More and more trees were laid to chaff as the behemoth advanced thunderously towards the plinth upon which its tiny “bride” had been secured.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Through crudely punched-out eye holes, King Damien’s brown eyes fixed the little bug that was Stuart in a gaze that easily punctuated his resolve. He would have the bug, this night, but not to crush, or de-wing, or even to drown in alcohol. This bug [Blondus Emaciatus] would be mounted and treasured for all time. Like a porcelain doll, fragile and priceless. That made the King beam with delight, and he stooped to immediately wrench two of the jungle’s mightiest trees out of the earth, one in each hand. Each tree easily weighed a thousand tonnes, but they seemed weightless in the grasp of King Damien. He held them, Crucifix-fashion, his arms completely stretched out on either side. Then, growling with manly aggression and in order to proclaim his dominance, he tossed the trees high into the moonlit night sky. They soared ever higher, higher still. Whether or no they would even come back down to the earth of this dreamscape would never be known.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]The effort of tossing the trees skyward caused the “arms” of the King Kong suit to fly apart, for now stitched panels of fake hide could never hope to defy such superhuman exertion. And so Stuart could gawp in sheer amazement at the massive size and definition of the King’s now exposed arms. Biceps easily bigger than a double-decker bus appeared gorged with veins thicker than tyres. His skin, tanned, moist and glistening, was super striated, and they became even more massive and more striated as, in classic Kong fashion, King Damien’s triumph over his domain could best be stressed by pounding his powerful chest with alternating fists. As the King pounded, so the force of his exertions caused the entire island to shake. Far beneath, fawning but aroused beyond reason, Stuart was completely helpless, but by now had completely given himself to the King. More of the ape suit began to come apart and peel away from the massive muscle-god. His muscles weren’t the only things that were swelling, gorging, expanding... he was gaining height, width, tremendous thickness. His body surged upwards and outwards, flexing and chest-beating, as if such momentum was enough to fuel his awesome, mind-blowing growth. The ape suit could no longer contain this primal giant of giants, and it flew apart like so much confetti, and a furry kind of rain began to gently fall on the mystified and overly-aroused Stuart. He was fast becoming less than a bug to King Damien, and more of a microbe.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]As Damien blotted out the radiant moon, his height now impossible to fathom, the most muscular and hugest man stooped to regard his bride more closely. He smiled the most gorgeous smile, more beautiful than any male supermodel, bigger than a mountain and strong enough to boot the moon into the sun with ease. With the gentlest pinch, Stuart was released from his bonds and drawn up into the sky so that the King could look at him closely. Smaller than an ant between his fingers, Stuart was now too small to take in the enormous beauty of his groom.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Yuh-you’re too big for me now, Damien. Huh-how cuh-could we make this work?”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Damien threw back his mansion-sized head and laughed a most guttural laugh which caused earthquakes to crack across the land. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Ha ha ha... I’m never big enough, little man....for I can swell huger still. And so I WILL!!!!” That said, Damien grew still further, the tiny gnat that was Stuart clung onto his chest-hair for dear life. He must have been thousands of feet in the air, now, and breathing was difficult. Damien flared out a mile-wide lat-spread and his upper body heaved upwards and outwards with more and more massive muscle.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Stuart screamed himself awake and flailed his limbs wildly for a second until normality returned and he found himself back in his flat. He was lathered with sweat and the room was stuffy. Damien was there, of course, his giant’s body now back to more realistic dimensions (although he was still the most incredible sight to behold). With his back to his boss he tinkered with an electric ceiling fan using just a screwdriver. His height was adequate enough not to require a stepladder. Although, he would reduce a stepladder to so much scrap should he to attempt to mount one. Did he turn the electricity off first?[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“That hasn’t worked in all the time I’ve been here,” Stuart said shakily, and he struggled to clear the feeling of disorientation from his head.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Tsk tsk... and you call yourself a mechanic, boss,” Damien playfully sounded. “Not to worry, I’ll have it going in a sec. Just a loose wire, is all.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Stuart watched him work, captivated and enthralled by the man’s quiet hugeness. He was a proper gentleman, a sweet, kind man, wrapped up in almost 1000 lbs of muscle. Stuart scanned the room for his phone, but couldn’t see it. He could have used it to video record Damien as he worked on the fan. Damn, he thought, why is my life so fucking disorganised?[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Becausssse you are weak, little boy... obsesssssed with the ssssstrength of one sssoooo huge. Ssoooon you will depend on him for sssssoooo much.... for everythiiiiing. It was the sibilant, slithering voice of his inner deviant once again.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Fuck off out of my head, you. I don’t want you in my life,” rasped Stuart, trying to keep his voice as low as he could make it.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Excuse me?” Damien heard, but did not look away from his work as he screwed the fan back into the ceiling, his work completed.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Er... nothing. Just had a buh-bad dream. Telling it to fuck off out of my throbbing skull, Damo.” Stuart hated lying, but in this case it was perfectly justified. Then he remembered what he said to Damien before losing consciousness earlier. Damn, the cat was truly out of the bag now.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“I’m gay, Damien. And... unngh... I’m so in love with you!”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“I’m gay, Damien. And... unngh... I’m so in love with you!”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“I’m gay, Damien. And... unngh... I’m so in love with you!”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“About what I said earlier...” Stuart struggled to find the correct words.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Don’t worry about it, boss. We can say some funny things when we’re not in our right minds. You had a shock to your system today. I didn’t take offence.” A massive shovel-like hand reached down to slightly tap Stuart on the side of his gaunt face. And that was it. Nothing else to say and brushed under the carpet.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“But...but we should ta–––[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“I’d best be getting back to the garage. For all we know those Ardmore blokes will be going through your secret porn stash. All that “pussy” could prove too much for them to handle.” And with a smile and a wink Damien threw the wall switch to the fan and within a few seconds cooler air was being circulated throughout the room. It was a godsend in this balmy weather.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]And then the giant super-hunk bodybuilder was gone, back to his place of work. It was quiet, now. Even Stuart’s inner deviant was not to be heard. For a time he just lay on his bed, enjoying the cool air on his weak skin, watching the fan blades turn at high speed. His stomach was empty and he could hardly stand under his own power. For a time he was lost to fantasy, but nothing as striking as the King Kong dream had been. Then he heard his phone chime. Must have been a text message. So he traced the phone to its source and found it on the sofa. He couldn’t remember when last he had the phone, but such was not important right now. It turned out that the text message was an information text from his service provider, reminding him that his bill was soon due.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Check the memory, Ssstuart.... sssssurely dear, ssssweeeet Damien might have left ssssssomething sssssavoury there for you to enjoy, yesssssss.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“How would you know that?”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Maybe it wassss I that told him to leave it for youuuuu!”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“So now you’re looking out for my best interests, yea?”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]No reply this time, just a festering, seeping cackle that soon faded into the murk and mire of Stuart’s troubled mind.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=gray]Sure enough there was something there. Damien must’ve made it whilst Stuart was unconscious. It was a close-up of one of the bodybuilder’s mammoth biceps, flushed with blood so that the veins were fat and on the verge of bursting through the skin. Stuart watched, transfixed, and with a swift erection, as Damien placed a billiard ball in the crook of his arm and slowly brought his bicep and forearm together, nutcracker-style. There was a very loud crunch, loud even for a mobile phone speaker, as the forearm and bicep, each part vastly thicker, huger and stronger than any other living male’s equivalents, reduced the hard sphere to so much dust and grit. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Unnngh.... fuck yea.... getting so much stronger,” he heard Damien mutter in the video. Then... “gotta get me a bowling ball next time. Grrrrrr!” [/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Then there was the sound of Damien obviously getting off to his amazing feat of utter power, by which then the attitude of the camera changed to the mirror over Stuart’s barely-dressed mantel, although Damien was careful enough to angle the lens showing the mirror so that his reflection was not captured. A pity. But something made up for it, when the camera easily captured a massive expulsion of jism which splashed noisily against the mirror with enough force to crack it from top to bottom. “Aw fuck....soooo good to get that out..... yeaaaaa!” Then the recording ended.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“The mirror. My mirror. My mirror in this very room. The mirror I currently have my back to.” Suddenly Stuart became aware of the smell of Damien’s muscle-musk in the room. How could he have not noticed it before now? His rock-rigid cock oozed precum as he whipped his light self around so that he could gawp, with so much incredulity, at Damien’s gift where it had splash-coated so much of the now cracked mirror, and was still in the process of stretching in languid cords, downward over the lip of the mantel, only to pool viscidly beneath.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Omygod... so much spunk. A king’s ransom in spunk. Holy fucking smeg!!!” [/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Skinny Stuart didn’t even feel himself shrugging out of his clothing, but he was completely naked as he stepped up to the mirror, knowing that he was standing in the now cooled pool of Damien’s cr?me. He touched more of the stuff where it had collected on the mantelpiece and immediately brought his ravenous tongue to the cold glass where he began to lick it clean of the muscle-hunk’s fluid. Caught up in throes of ecstasy he could never hope to battle against and win, Stuart collapsed onto the floor and bathed in Damien’s cr?me. He drank as much of it as his weak stomach could take before finally succumbing to the throes of sheer orgasm, his wraith-like body shuddering uncontrollably as the seizure climaxed through him. Again sleep took him away from the agonies of his existence, but there were no giant Damiens in ill-fitting King Kong knock-offs to tantalise him this time. Only darkness and wisps of mocking ether greeted him, whose currents the inner deviant rode with much enthusiasm.[/COLOR]


[COLOR=yellow]Part 6 HERE [/COLOR]

[rabiyya]

Thanks! Just last night I was wondering where you had disappeared to...

[JP71]

Been thru a tough time, is all. But on the better side of it now, I guess. So more stories to come. Next part of the Garage will have a LOT of muscle-growth. Just doing a bit now.

[Blake]

Welcome back JP, glad things have got sorted and you're on the better side of things too. I wondered if this would ever continue and am glad it has.

The best things come to those who wait, and the same with stories too.

Neil

[JP71]

Very kind of you to say, Neil. MANY thanks from an almost washed-up writer.

[Reeza]

Holy fucking smeg!!! It's great to see your name on the by line again. May you be as productive as Damien!

[JP71]

Thanks Reeza, Im bursting with ideas again. Who knows, maybe I'll have another crack at Farblondjet, time will tell.

[Blake]

Originally Posted by JP71

........ MANY thanks from an almost washed-up writer.

Washed up...?

No way.

[xboy]

Great!!!

[philat99]

You've still got the knack! Keep writing!
Mike