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Old May 17th, 2013, 11:57 PM
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Caveman - Part Nine

Notice: I am considering doing my next multipart story in a format other than straight text. (I won't be starting it until all three of the current stories have finished.) For various reasons, I am a bit doubtful about the whole thing. So I put up a poll. If you haven't already done so, go read the thread, and then vote.

Here we go again. This chapter isn't quite so erotic as some of you may have hoped, partially because I had to do some plot development. Sorry. (You'll like the next part better.) (But come on, they're high school kids who are actually AT SCHOOL for most of the chapter. There's only so much sex you can cram in before you might as well give up with the whole "suspension of disbelief" thing.)

-----

Caveman
Part Nine

This story has been completed. Content warnings and general description are included with part one, general commentary will be after part twenty.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty

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"You must surely know," said Slartibartfast to Ford, "what it is that is about to happen?"
"Me?" said Ford. "no."
"Did you not learn Ancient Galactic history when you were a child?"
"I was in the cybercubicle behind Zaphod," said Ford; "it was very distracting. Which isn't to say that I didn't learn some pretty stunning things."
-- Douglas Adams, Life, the Universe and Everything
I woke up at 5:45, after 5 hours of sleep. When I woke up, I was lying on my side, cuddling Norris. It was a bit odd, given my size, that I wasn't actually engulfing him with my muscles.

Part of it was that I was just too big. My chest was too convex for me to "engulf" anyone. The back of Norris' head was held nearly a foot away from me because my pecs, mushed together by the position of my arms, combined with the mass of muscles on his back to push him out.

The other reason was that Norris was just too big. He wasn't my giant size, but I would have been willing to bet that he was the largest humanoid on the planet other than me and Gary. And I was starting to become unsure about Gary. Every time I saw him, I was surprised again at how big he was, but Norris was how starting to be a pretty major hunk of flesh, too.

Even if he wasn't actually bigger than Gary, he was major enough to turn me on, and my cock responded. That woke Norris up.

"Whu-huh? Ummm... Guh... Wha' time 'zit? Huh? 5:45? Uh? Mitch? Oh! Geez, you don't waste any time, do you?"

"Sorry to wake you up. I woke up and just couldn't hold back."

"Uh huh. Be gentle; my ass is still sore from last night."

"Sorry, lover boy. Dunno if I can make any promises."

"Wow! Oh, god!"

After a few rounds of sex -- as fast as we could go -- we got out of bed.

"Okay, time to get ready for school."

"What, already? School doesn't start until 8:45!"

"We have something to do before we get there. And besides, you're going to have to do some major shaving. Can't wear a beard to school."

Norris started laughing, much to my bewilderment.

"What's so funny?"

"Sorry, but for YOU to be telling me I need to shave!"

"Huh?"

"You mean you haven't noticed? Go look in a mirror!"

"Come here, you!"

I stuck my cock into Norris' ass, and walked us to the bathroom, which astonished and pleased him.

Sure enough, I was now the possessor of a pretty serious beard. Some of it looked to be the better part of an inch long. I took a good look at it while jacking Norris up and down.

"Fuck! When did this happen?"

"It's been growing in over the last few days. You mean you really didn't notice?"

"No! I've never had facial hair before! I don't even have a razor!"

"Well, calm down, Svengali. I'll help you. Although it's kind of a shame, since you look so hot that way."

With Norris' help, we used the trimmer attachment on his electric razor to cut most of my beard off, and then I had a normal shave. And then Norris shaved, while I fucked him.

"Can you -- uh -- stop that? It's -- ah! -- distracting and -- uh -- it's hard to -- oh god -- shave while -- uh -- there's so much -- uh -- motion."

"Sorry, dude, but we're probably not going to be able to fuck while we're at school, or at least not very much, and I want to keep up my average."

Norris' face fell when he realized that I was right -- most of the last week had been a steady stream of sex all day every day; we couldn't keep that up in school, unless we wanted to be detected immediately and probably expelled.

"Okay, carry on. But I need to get a turn, too."

"No problems, bud."

By this time, our appetites had kicked in, and we headed for the kitchen. Norris managed to choke down 18 cylinders to my 22. Apparently, whatever Gary's second shot had done had completely worn off.

After using the toilets, we had a shower which was just long enough for Norris to cum, then me to cum, then Norris to cum again, and then to actually get cleaned up in a hurry.

And then we got dressed and headed out the back door. Before we left, I grabbed a couple of old t-shirts from my closet; they looked so small I almost felt like I could wear them as gloves. Norris was curious; as he rode on my shoulders (so we could move more quickly) he finally asked outright why I had brought them along.

"I was thinking about it last night. If we're going to bring hundreds and hundreds of guys to Gary, sooner or later we're going to get noticed. Even if nobody notices the traffic, sooner or later somebody will realize that everyone who goes with us gets bigger, and then there will be trouble."

"Yes?"

"So what we're going to do is find an alternate path. At least that way nobody will be coming to my house first."

At that moment, we arrived at the cave. I walked us a little more than a quarter of the way around the entrance.

"Okay, Norris, hold on tight."

Then I spread my arms wide and started walking through the woods, knocking down everything in my path (although I took care to avoid the larger trees). After about half a mile, I stopped, tore a strip off a red t-shirt, and tied it to a branch which was still standing. Then I turned a little more than 60 degrees and set off again. After about 6 turns, and about a half-hour of walking, tying strips of cloth at each turn, we could see the end of a dead-end street. I tied two strips of different colors along the path I had made to make sure that it was possible to see the direction, and we carefully picked our way out to leave several yards of trees for camouflage.

"Huh. Stuart Road? That's about a quarter-mile from school. Lucky!"

"Not luck. I chose that route."

"What? And you just managed to end up here by dead-reckoning?"

"Why not? It's not all that difficult. It's not like the geography changes. I just... well, came in the right direction."

Norris gave me a funny look, but dropped the subject. We walked onto school grounds at about 8:15.

Joe and Mike had beaten us to campus. They was standing by the flagpole in front of the school, obviously watching for us. They were attracting a lot of stares, at least until we walked up. Then the four of us together attracted stares from everyone within sight.

"Morning, Joe, Mike. How'd your parents react to the changes?"

Mike and Joe exchanged glances. Mike spoke first.

"Well, my Mom threw a fit because she said I couldn't play tennis any more like this. She went and got Dad, who came in yelling at me, but when I stood up I was about four inches taller than him and at least sixty pounds heavier, so he went kind of pale and stopped. Mom spent the rest of the night fussing over my tennis outfits."

"Sorry, Mike, I hadn't thought about that. She may be right about that."

"So what? Fuck tennis. I only joined tennis to keep my parents off my back about fitness. Think they're going to be able to say anything about that when I look like this?" To emphasize, he brought up a 25" arm.

Norris and I had a good laugh at this. Then we turned to Joe, who grinned.

"Mom barely even noticed. I said 'look how big I'm getting' and she said 'that's nice, dear, now can you please take out the garbage?'. Dad was so happy he slapped me on the back and spent half an hour gloating about how I would probably get a football scholarship now."

"Well, that's good, I guess."

"So what do we do now?"

"Here's the plan: any guy who asks you how you got so huge, tell them to meet us at the dead end of Stuart Road at 4:30. You guys meet me here after classes let out."

"Okay."

We headed into the school. The school had been built to be smugly large enough for any student who had sufficient delusions of grandeur to get tall or large, and had tall and wide doors and halls, but I still had to duck to get in, much to everyone's amusement.

We had collected a crowd, admirers and the merely curious, and as we split up to head for our lockers most of them followed me, although I had no doubt that each of my friends would soon be the center of their own knot of people. (I heard a collective gasp when I gave Norris a goodbye kiss. Was it because I was in a relationship already, or because that relationship was homosexual? Probably a little from column A, a little from column B.)

In a way, it was exhilarating -- at long last, I was not only physically mature but the pinnacle of male desirability (at least, until I grew even more -- a thought which I had to consciously avoid since I didn't want to get hard in the hallway). But it was kind of disappointing. My pickiness hadn't altered a bit from getting bigger; most of the people watching me simply weren't hot enough to turn me on. (Of course, I reflected that most of the guys would pass that test a few days after getting their shots, but still...)

And there was a further problem -- after days of endless sex with three increasingly studly musclemen, ordinary high school students seemed kind of paltry. Even the tallest, largest-breasted girls seemed like little kids, and forget the guys. The football and wrestling jocks, who once had seemed like unattainable giants, now looked like they were barely out of puberty to me. What a difference a few days and several hundred pounds of muscle make!

What WAS interesting was how many of the guys popped boners looking at me. I had a few minutes to spare, so I did some strength feats -- lifting two or three people in the air, stuff like that -- and it was a good thing for several people's reputations that all eyes were on me, and not on each other. Nearly every single guy was hard.

About a third of the guys who watched me asked, in one form or another, if I could help them. (Usually, the opening question was "how did you get so big", to which I always replied that it was a secret for now, but that was always a prelude to "could you make me big, too", and I just told them to meet me in the dead end at 4:30.) By the time I entered the classroom for my first class -- french -- I had already recruited sixteen guys for the afternoon visit to Gary.

My seat was about halfway back in the room, a little off to one side. I looked down at the tiny little desk, and then looked up at the teacher, who had been staring at me since I walked in. He swallowed and said "uh, perhaps you could, uh, move the desk to the back and just sit in the chair for today?" I nodded. I lifted the desk -- it was almost ludicrously lightweight, practically unnoticeable -- and moved it to the back, and then sat down, trying to pretend that everyone wasn't staring at me.

Within five minutes, I found that the chair was extraordinarily uncomfortable. It was the typical institutional hard-seat-on-a-metal-frame type of chair, and I could feel that I was giving it nearly as much strain as it could handle. As I squirmed around, trying to find a position which was comfortable without having one buttock off the side of the thing and without crushing the thing underneath me, the guy behind me, Brad, poked me with a pencil, and I turned around to look.

"Yes?"

He was looking at me respectfully, and whispered: "Uh, I hate to disturb you, but you're blocking the blackboard. It's hard enough to pay attention when there's a guy like -- um." Then he blushed. Obviously, I'd have to get Brad to come along to Gary's; he had always been pretty nice to me.

I had an idea; I flexed my legs and lifted myself off the seat, then gently shifted the chair back until it was completely out of the way, and then crouched down on my calves. My ass stopped hurting as soon as it wasn't pressed into the hard seat, and I could hold that position all day if necessary. Much better. Plus, even with my tremendous height, I no longer blocked the view. I leaned back and whispered "better?"

"Butt. I mean sex. I mean, yes!"

Heh. Brad wasn't just a candidate for Gary, he was going to have to join us at my house! Maybe I could arrange a boost for him like Mike had received.

The class ran onward faster than usual. With me sitting there, the usual clowns and distractors had something to occupy their attention, and things were quiet. I'm not sure if anyone actually learned anything that the teacher was trying to teach, but he finished five minutes early.

As I was putting the chair and desk back into place -- no need for the next class to have to clean up my mess, after all -- I was astonished. Not by the way every single person in the class watched me do it, because I was getting used to that. What surprised me was when every single person came up to proposition me afterwards. Simultaneously. Including the teacher.

It was a little overwhelming. I wasn't interested in any of them -- the students all looked like little kids to me, and the teacher was in mediocre physical condition (and even skinnier than Norris had been before his shot). On the other hand, I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings -- there wasn't a single one of them who hadn't been reasonably friendly to me before my change. I thought faster than I had had to for a long time, and managed to fend them off -- although I managed to inform all the guys of the meeting place. After a certain amount of thought, I even included the teacher. It might be interesting to see him turn into a stud, and after all, Gary did ask for a wider spectrum of specimens, so having some older ones mixed in might be useful.

Finally the bell rang, and I headed off to the next class. On the way, I stopped in a bathroom and jacked off -- no sense getting out of practice. It wasn't as good as Norris' ass or Joe's tongue, but my hands were stronger than any pressure they had been able to apply, and I came pretty quickly. I dashed off to the next class, moved my desk and chair out of the way after explaining to the amazed teacher, and sat on my haunches through English Lit.

I wasn't quite as unprepared when I was mobbed again at the end of class, but it was astonishing. At least this time, the teacher, being female, didn't have to be clued into the meeting place.

Still, it was extremely strange. Weren't there any, you know, totally straight guys in class? Or lesbians? I knew the Kinsey scale was a range of numbers for a reason, but you'd expect that at least one or two people in two classes of people wouldn't be interested.

My next class was physics. I walked in and, without thinking, once again removed my desk and chair to the back so I could crouch.

This was, as it happened, a big mistake. I had forgotten, but my physics teacher was Mr. Grundtstat. He had a kind of grudge against jocks and athletes of all kinds. It was a little weird, because he was, himself, possibly the biggest and fittest man on the teaching staff, and visitors usually assumed he was the football coach. Or the wrestling coach. Or a trained grizzly bear which had been shaved and taught to speak.

To make matters worse, he was notorious for both a general bad temper and for his allergies, which made his temper worse. He used to terrify me -- even though I had been kind of the opposite of a jock, nobody escaped his disdain and sarcasm. All autumn, our class had been put through the wringer by his crabbiness thanks to his ever-present sneezing. When winter came, he hadn't exactly been cheerful, but there had been a relaxing of tension which had been noticeable. Now it was time for flowers and mildew again, so he was once again ready to yell. After I fell into my now-usual crouch and pulled out my notebook, I heard a loud sneeze from the front of the row, and then a voice like acid eating into steel said "perhaps Mister Hammond would like to explain why he thinks he can alter his seating without permission."

I looked up to see Mr. Grundtstat's sour expression, which was not improved at all by red-rimmed eyes and a handkerchief suddenly raised into view as he sneezed again.

"Uh, sorry, Mr. Grundtstat. I, er, had a growth spurt over the break, and the standard desks and chairs are uncomfortable for me now. Plus I kind of block the view of the people behind me. I found that if I squat like this everyone is happy."

"Put your chair and desk back and sit normally, Hammond. Save the showing off for after school."

I shrugged, and brought back the desk and chair. He glared at me and grunted, then sneezed. As discomfort in my rear end set in, the class began. Within three minutes of the beginning of class, though, I could see from the reflection in the mirror Mr. Grundtstat kept for optics demonstrations that all three of the people sitting behind me were waving their hands in the air, and out to the side.

After trying to ignore them for several minutes, he finally sighed, sneezed, and said "yes, what is it?"

All three students behind me replied "we can't see the board around Mitch."

He gave me a glare, and I thought he was going to yell, but instead he just sneezed again and said "okay, Hammond, you can put your desk and chair away, dammit."

I was aware that everyone in the class was watching me as I moved the furniture out of the way and dropped back into a crouch. Even when I was crouching, no longer high enough off the ground to form a major obstacle, and Mr. Grundtstat coughed and said "okay, now is everyone satisfied? Then let's get back to basic wave mechanics" everyone was still staring at me.

I recognized the symptoms. This really was too much. It was flattering, but in a way it was also kind of insulting -- not a one of those people wanted me for my personality. They had had three and a half years to pay attention to me, and although they had been reasonably nice, none of them had ever shown any serious interest in me until now.

The only people who had really stuck with me were Joe and Norris and Mike. At the thought of the three of them, I started to get hard. Nothing I could do about it until after class ended. Time to buckle down and pay attention to the teacher...

Damn, but this lecture was boring. Since when had Mr. Grundtstat dumbed down his lectures to this level? I started to let my mind wander again. How many guys were being recruited by the others? From what Joe had said, it sounded like he would have the entire football team, and probably all the wrestlers who weren't on the football team. And he probably knew a lot of like-minded jocks, too. If my experiences were anything to go by, I could expect him to bring in maybe a hundred guys -- the male portion of every class, plus at least two sports teams.

Mike might not have as much success. Since he was basically a stranger to homosexuality, chances were good he didn't know a lot of guys who were interested. And the tennis team wouldn't be interested in bulk -- Mike was more or less an exception, because he wasn't really interested in tennis. Although who knows, maybe there were some others. And most guys would probably want to grow if given the choice.

The real wildcard, though, was going to be Norris. You never knew, with Norris, what he might come up with. Maybe being gay and closeted had just made him good at keeping secrets, but he constantly managed to startle even friends like me. He might invite a hundred guys, or nobody at all, and it wouldn't be a surprise either way--

Suddenly there was a sneeze from right next to me.

"Mr. Hammond, am I boring you?" Crap. Mr. Grundtstat had noticed that I wasn't paying attention. This wasn't going to end well.

"No, Mr. Grundtstat."

"Really? Then perhaps you can go to the board and answer the problem I wrote there." The grin on Mr. Grundtstat's face was terrifying -- until he sneezed, at least.

I walked up to the board -- Mr. Grundtstat was taken aback when I first stood up and he realized that I was actually both larger and taller than him. I picked up some chalk and read the question for the first time. Since I had kept up with the reading I knew the terms, although I didn't recognize the actual topic from anything we had covered so far. Something about variable frequencies and refraction, and I recognized the vector notation from the previous year's math classes, although I had to guess at how to do calculus with them.

I started writing. Unfortunately, working this out from first principles took more work than Mr. Grundtstat probably wanted me to show, but after all I was hoping that if I bored him enough he would turn his attention elsewhere. After a couple of minutes, I had the answer, underlined it twice, and put down the chalk.

When I turned around, Mr. Grundtstat was pale, and everyone else in the class was smiling or laughing. "Is that correct, Mr. Grundstat?"

"Uh... yes, that's... that's correct. Well, that wraps up class for today. The assignment for tonight is on the board. I'll see you tomorrow." Mr. Grundtstat sneezed and hurried out of the room.

As I made my way back to my desk -- or, at least, where my desk would have been normally -- two people gave me high fives. I was a little puzzled, but Mike -- not "my" Mike, but another one, who sat next to me in this class -- said, "Dude, that was perfect!"

"What WAS it? Why is everyone laughing?"

"You really didn't know?"

"No. I was just... daydreaming for a while, and then suddenly he asked me to solve a problem, so I solved it."

Mike sniggered. "Even better. That was the problem Grump-Shit solved for his college thesis. He put it up there so he could tell us how stupid we were. He only called on you because he wanted to punish you for not paying attention. If only he knew you had read about his work..."

"Uh, OK."

Here was another thing to worry about -- I was apparently a genius now. Maybe those calculus problems from the other day hadn't been so easy, after all. I would have to think about that. Except that suddenly I was mobbed again. Everyone was congratulating me as an excuse to try and hit on me. At this point, I was getting pretty experienced in how to cope with the situation -- my recruit count was up to 62 when I left the room.

My next class was watercolor painting; as a senior, I had my choice of the few electives offered by the school, and I had decided to take some art classes instead of braving my way into shop courses. Fortunately, the teacher didn't mind if people were late, so I took the opportunity to once again jack off in a bathroom. Half the guys in my physics class followed me in, which was terribly embarrassing, but when I went into a toilet stall they had a choice between waiting for me or being on time to their next classes, and except for the two who genuinely needed to use the facilities, the crowd dispersed.

After I had satisfied my two-foot monster, at least enough to show up without being visibly hard, I headed in to the watercolor class. This was going to be a bit of a problem, because there was no real way to do watercolor painting without holding the paper steady and approximately horizontal, and I couldn't possibly sit at a desk for a whole period. I found myself wishing that I had taken oil painting instead -- then I could stand, at least.

The class operated on simple lines; after a few weeks of demonstration of various watercolor techniques -- which we, the students, were expected to duplicate at our desks -- the teacher began to assign topics, and we had to paint something fitting the description. So far, we had painted "something made of metal", "flowers", and this week we were working on "a still life". The assignments were given in advance so that we could find reference material -- photos or real objects to work from.

I walked in and settled as well as I could in my seat after collecting my paints and some water from a sink at the back of the room. Thankfully, it was close to the door, so only every single person in the room noticed me. (Seriously, I was starting to regret being so big. No matter how hard I tried to walk quietly, the school was constructed so cheaply that you could FEEL my footsteps.) I did my best with my still life -- my reference was a photograph of a bowl of red and green apples.

After a while, the teacher began making rounds. I noticed that she spent a lot of time near me. Soon she was hovering over me, offering advice which wasn't actually necessary. She kept grabbing my hand to guide my brushstrokes, which she usually didn't do to anyone. I couldn't help but notice that she was pressing her breasts into my back as she leaned over me.

Great. Just what I needed. Maybe coming to school wasn't such a great idea, after all. How was I going to cope with all the horny women? I decided to start self-identifying as gay, rather than bi, in hopes that it would discourage them.

The bell finally rang -- the teacher hadn't visited half the people in the class because she had spent so long with me. But at least I had an excuse to get out of the room quickly and evade the mob -- my next "class" was lunch, and I was getting ravenous.

I got to the lunchroom fairly fast, and Norris and Mike were already there. (Joe had lunch during a different class period -- our school had vastly more students than cafeteria space.) Both of them had a stack of the cylinders in front of them, and I plopped mine down next to Norris, pushed the chair out of the way, and squatted down.

"So, how was the morning? Get lucky?" Mike leered.

"Geez! Ick! No!" I waved my hand at the rest of the people in the cafeteria, of whom about two thirds were looking our way. "Look at 'em! They're like preschoolers. Ask me again in about two weeks, though."

"So you got a lot of people for Gary's experiments?"

"More than 60, now."

Norris whistled.

"What, how many did you guys get?"

Norris gave me shamefaced smile. "I got 15. Mike got 12."

I frowned. "That's weird. I was mobbed with people after every class. Heck, I had more volunteers than you before I even started first period."

"Well, hot stuff, I don't mean to belabor the obvious, but maybe it's the personal element. I mean, Mike and I are getting pretty damn sexy--"

"You aren't kidding, there."

Norris gave me another smile. "--but you're really off the charts in every way. I heard about your physics class, so I'm including your brain."

"But not my artistic talents."

"Huh?"

"Oh, god, I had Ms. Neidermeyer 'correcting' my technique half the period. It was so blatant, it was really kind of revolting."

Mike paused in devouring his current cylinder. "Really Ms. Neidermeyer?"

"Yeah. If you had dipped her in paint, my back would be covered in circle prints."

"What do you me-- oh. Whoa!"

"Yeah."

Norris was looking at Mike, and had broken into a grin. "Heh. Looks like Mikey has a crush on a teacher."

Mike flushed, and immediately became stuffy and officious. "I just... think she's very attractive."

I thought about it. Ms. Neidermeyer was the youngest art teacher, probably no more than about 25 years old. And although she wasn't my cup of tea she wasn't actually a gargoyle or anything; certainly a step up from any of the girls I knew personally, or at least any of the ones I could think of offhand. So the thought of Mike having a crush on her wasn't grotesque, but still...

"Ah, just shut up and eat."

We ate in silence for a while; since there were many more students than spaces in the cafeteria, each student only got half a period for "lunch". The rest was a study hall elsewhere in the school. So we had to race to choke down enough food to hold us for the afternoon.

Norris nudged me. "Want to ditch study hall?"

I smiled back at him. "Yeah, I think there's a bathroom with our names on it."

Mike looked back and forth between the two of us. "Am I included in this?"

I grinned at him. "Why not?" He looked relieved. "If you can give up your fantasies of Ms. Neidermeyer, at least." He punched me in the arm.

When the bell rang, the three of us charged off through the school. To avoid bringing a crowd of hangers-on with us, we took an extraordinarily convoluted path. Anyone without super-muscular legs would probably have been unable to follow us as we ran up and down between the first, second, and third floors, and even into the tiny fourth floor and down the only other staircase which went there.

We finally ended up in a neglected bathroom on the third floor. I locked the door behind us, and all three of us stripped.

I looked at us in the mirror. It was astonishing how huge we were. I was, of course, a giant stud, now so big and muscular that I made the bathroom look like it was designed for midgets, but both Norris and Mike were now noticeably bigger than the previous night. I regretted not bringing the measuring tape with me -- the next day I would have to remember it. Either one of them was as big as anything out of a bodybuilding magazine, and all three of us were incredibly hung and covered in sexy body hair. (I also noticed that I already had five o'clock shadow, and it was only lunch! I'd have to buy an electric razor and bring it with me, along with the tape measure.)

What followed was... well, it was amazing. This was the first time I had ever had sex with multiple guys, where I was actually INSIDE one of them. It was all I could do not to scream as we went; we couldn't risk attracting attention. First I fucked Norris while Mike pec-fucked me. Nobody even had to say anything; I just plugged into Norris and hoisted Mike into position, like it was the most natural thing in the world. We were all so pent up, after the contrast between all the sex the day before and the essential lack of it all morning, that we finished in record time. Then, after the tiniest hesitation on Mike's part, they switched places and we did it again. And then they switched again. And again. It was a whirlwind round of sex, but it felt absolutely incredible. The bell rang just as we were finishing up. We pulled out all the paper towels in the dispensers and wiped up as much of the cum as we could -- there was a lot of it, but at least we didn't leave any visible puddles -- and then pulled on our clothes, unlocked the door, and ran for our next classes.


Last edited by tekuno; August 31st, 2013 at 04:54 PM.
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Old May 21st, 2013, 12:59 AM
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I LOVE THIS.
This series has been fantastic from chapter 1, and it's not too unrealistic (emphasis on too) to automatically proc the bullshit filter in my brain.
Can I please have more?
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Old May 21st, 2013, 11:01 AM
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I'm glad you're enjoying it. There's still quite a bit left; I haven't even got them through day 1 of school and they'll be there at least through 2 days. As to whether it's realistic or not, well, that's an interesting perspective to have... it will be interesting to hear whether or not you still think so when the story is over.
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Old May 21st, 2013, 06:01 PM
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I am enjoying this story a lot but it does lack the discription of your other story. Was that a inference as to what is to come, with the story? "that is an interesting perspective to have... it will be interesting to hear whether or not you still think so when the story is over." does this mean we will be getting MASSIVE growth or sex or something?
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Old May 21st, 2013, 08:46 PM
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Originally Posted by HugestFuckGod View Post
I am enjoying this story a lot but it does lack the discription of your other story. Was that a inference as to what is to come, with the story? "that is an interesting perspective to have... it will be interesting to hear whether or not you still think so when the story is over." does this mean we will be getting MASSIVE growth or sex or something?
You can speculate all you like, but I won't tell. I only give out hints if they aren't important; if I specifically told you that the story was shortly going to have (or would never have) massive growth, then that would be giving stuff away.

But I can say that there hasn't been as much description because there wasn't much growth in this part, so there hasn't been much new to say about the characters. It's a long narrative tradition that you can skip the boring bits.
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Old May 22nd, 2013, 05:45 AM
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Originally Posted by tekuno View Post
I'm glad you're enjoying it. There's still quite a bit left; I haven't even got them through day 1 of school and they'll be there at least through 2 days. As to whether it's realistic or not, well, that's an interesting perspective to have... it will be interesting to hear whether or not you still think so when the story is over.
When I say realistic I don't mean "This could totally happen right now."
I mean that if a hunky humanoid alien granted a pitiful kid muscle growth and a huge dick, and asked him to recruit test subjects, it would pan out in a similar manner.
Whatamisayingidonteven
I tend to think stories are realistic if a character grows but doesn't automatically go on a hurting/raping spree. I like your idea. More muscle is always a wise decision, unless it's your traps and they're... suffocating you... somehow.
I don't know, I'm trying to think of a situation where muscle is bad. Tell me if you can think of one other than gaining till immobility (some people think it's hot as fuck, but others, like me, realize that being immobile can also mean you're unable to move your jaw, dooming yourself to life as a "vegetable" until someone invents mind reading technology).
Just my hundred + two cents

I'm looking forward to seeing how the story will develop
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Old May 22nd, 2013, 07:37 AM
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There's several situations where "muscle is bad" ... trying to get clothing that fits right, off the shelf. Trying to get your arm into a narrow place under the couch or between the fuel pump and the engine block without scraping or burning off skin. Trying to get by on low cost rations or very little food (this was before huge freaking subsidies made fast food crap cheaper to get than real food) so that you don't starve, hence 'myostatin' with all its evilness.

It's a trade-off
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Old May 22nd, 2013, 11:49 AM
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Gary - Evil?

Gary's a little suspicious, he's worried Mitch is growing more than he expected. He's spending a lot of time on some secret project and he had to flee his own time. What if he's an evil genius? How can Mitch and the others stop him?
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Old May 22nd, 2013, 01:04 PM
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Or maybe he's just considered harmful.
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Old May 23rd, 2013, 10:13 PM
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So you're saying that Gary is the go-to guy for more muscle growth?
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Old May 23rd, 2013, 11:41 PM
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So you're saying that Gary is the go-to guy for more muscle growth?
*rimshot*
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Old May 24th, 2013, 07:32 AM
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Thank you, folks, we'll be here all week, don't forget to tip the bartender.
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Old May 24th, 2013, 03:28 PM
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Originally Posted by Fylena View Post
... More muscle is always a wise decision, unless it's your traps and they're... suffocating you... somehow.

I suppose that depends on one's aesthetic standards.

Which actually raises a good issue for a story, I think. While many stories on this site present us with eight-foot tall 400 pound monsters, (or even bigger), with 40 inch biceps (uh, how does THAT work?), rarely is it pointed out how truly awful it would be to LIVE such a life - although this story gives us some hints (like Mitch's difficulty fitting behind his desk at school). And no, in fact, having a three-foot-long dick would NOT be a good thing . . . unless you lived in the "Supermen" universe, where your partner had a magical ass that could conform to any intrusion no matter how massive.

I remember as a little kid, I had a recurring dream of biceps that were so big, when I flexed them they would peak up so high they would leave the atmosphere (which wasn't too good for the skin or blood vessels, as even my 11 year old sci-fi geek's brain recognized).

Anyway, I think you get my point.
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Old May 24th, 2013, 07:18 PM
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Which actually raises a good issue for a story, I think. While many stories on this site present us with eight-foot tall 400 pound monsters, (or even bigger), with 40 inch biceps (uh, how does THAT work?)
Well, speaking as the author: he has 40-inch upper arms, not biceps. As with most guys who have large upper arms, the key would be a combination of REALLY big triceps, combined with biceps which not only have a really high peak but are fat (wide) as well, so the 40-inch measurement is really because of an unusually tall high point plus a bunch of area which would stretch the tape outward instead of upward. (It also helps make this remotely plausible if the character is really tall or has extra-long arms, so that there's more space to play with. You may not have noticed it, but a couple of times I tossed in references to Mitch having long limbs, even for his height.)

But I must admit that a part of it is just that it's fun to use the measurements to build an impossibly huge guy.

(And, incidentally, you're right about a huge cock not being very useful; the anatomy of the human penis is such that the sizes mentioned in these stories would basically never get very hard -- there just wouldn't be enough tension. For that matter, you don't develop extra segments in your abdominals through training -- you might lose enough fat and gain enough definition that segments which were always there become visible, but the segmentation itself is fixed. Your abs are the only muscles of their kind in your body; they're a relic of the earliest type of muscle tissue to evolve. The more complex structures on your arms and legs and chest and so on are differently structured.)

The problem is, though, that if the story ends where the character hits a realistic plateau in their growth, without gaining any height, then it's often not very interesting: "well, I reached 210 pounds, and then I just couldn't squeeze out any more growth, so [story villain] was always bigger and stronger than me. So I switched to another [gym/job/school/whatever] and never saw them again. Eventually I got older, my muscles shrank back down to normal-person size, and I stopped going to the gym so obsessively. The end."
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Old May 24th, 2013, 09:34 PM
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Okay, can I throw in one little tidbit? A 400 pound guy who stood 8 feet tall, using straifht scale as an analogue, would have a build roughly similar to a guy who stands 6ft and weighs about 170 pounds. (Remember to apply weight adjustments cubically rather than single-dimensionally. 8ft/6ft is 1.3333, which you then multiply the weight by three times, once for each dimension of scale.)

Even if we only multiplied by two dimensions, to represent bones stretching but not thickening with scale, that's still only the build of a 220 pound 6ft tall guy. Not exactly a mass-monster, at 6ft.
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Old May 24th, 2013, 10:08 PM
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Okay, can I throw in one little tidbit? A 400 pound guy who stood 8 feet tall, using straifht scale as an analogue, would have a build roughly similar to a guy who stands 6ft and weighs about 170 pounds. (Remember to apply weight adjustments cubically rather than single-dimensionally. 8ft/6ft is 1.3333, which you then multiply the weight by three times, once for each dimension of scale.)

Even if we only multiplied by two dimensions, to represent bones stretching but not thickening with scale, that's still only the build of a 220 pound 6ft tall guy. Not exactly a mass-monster, at 6ft.
And we get around that, in this story, by having the scale not go high enough to weigh more than 300 pounds.
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