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Old June 6th, 2013, 09:19 PM
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A Lucid Account - Part 6

Content warnings and description appear at the beginning of part 1.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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.

The bodybuilder self is getting so big, the end of the story must be coming up, right? Right? Nah, that couldn't be. There must be a twist coming up.

Nope, the end is coming (relatively) soon. Mwa ha ha ha! (Heh heh heh.)

A Lucid Account
Part 6
"What?!" Mark had arrived while I was changing out of my work clothes in the bathroom.

"You heard me, Mark. I'm rich! I got a call from a firm of lawyers two days ago, and I had my lawyer check it out, and it's legit. I didn't want to tell you until I was sure. When probate is over, I'm going to be worth 350 million. Some super-rich relative I never heard of cacked it, and left me everything."

"What about taxes?"

"You remember I'm an accountant when I'm not in the gym, dumbass? That's my rough estimate of what it will come to after all the taxes and penalties. The actual amount is a lot higher."


"I'm quitting my job tomorrow, and I'm going to start training full-time. I've been growing a little less quickly the last week or so, I need to concentrate on what's important. And you're joining me."


Maybe it was the prospect of wealth, or maybe it was just all the testosterone buildup, but I was so damn turned on. My cock inflated to its full 13 inches, maybe even further than usual, pushing its way through the flap of the boxers I was wearing. I grabbed Mark, pulled him in, and kissed him hard.

When I let go, he was smiling. "So I'm going to be a kept man?"

I squeezed him tighter, grinding my cock into his abs. "Oh, yeah. You're going to be my salaried manslut." Behind his back, I grabbed a bottle of lube.


Suddenly I pushed him away. "Time to sample the goods!" I spun him around, pulled down his pants, squirted out some lube, and forced my rock-solid dick into his ass. As he moaned, I roared; Mark was worth more to me than the money I was inheriting, to tell the truth. His ass alone was worth it all. Forcing my cock deeper and deeper into it, much to his enjoyment, always made me feel like some kind of primordial force of masculinity; I would be hard for hours tonight. I grinned at my reflection in the mirror; I was the biggest, strongest, sexiest, luckiest stud in the world.

Mark's groans brought my attention back. I focussed, and flexed my cock as hard as I could, forcing it to its largest size possible. This was going to be a good night.

You'd think that getting what I wanted would make me happier.

In a way, I WAS happy. My other self was now fixed for life. I could take my time to act out my fantasies... except that I didn't really have any. I wanted my dream self to be bigger and stronger and have lots of sex, but there was no concrete ambition, so specific goal in mind. Which, of course, was a decent match for my apparent inability to make my other self grow any faster. I could just sit back and let my subconscious play out actions while I forced my dream body to slowly grow larger and larger, and that would keep me going.

On the other hand, now that my dream life was an endless round of sex, food, pleasure, and working out, it was having an effect on me. I was no longer waking up refreshed in the morning. The less my dream self had to suffer to achieve greater and greater things, the worse I felt when I was awake. Looking in the mirror, I saw bags under my eyes. I even thought I was losing weight, although the scale said the opposite; perhaps spending each night as a super-muscular bodybuilder was simply altering my perspective.

Mostly, though, I just felt lost and depressed. It had finally dawned on me that I had come close to sacrificing my job -- the most important thing in my life, I would have said without hesitation until the dreams started, to pursue advances in my dreams, advances which would have no real reward and were beginning to take a toll on me.

To make matters worse, the perceptions I held in my dreams were beginning to impinge on my real life.

My real metabolism was nowhere near that of my dream self, and cooking had never really seemed terribly important, so that my meals now seemed small and bland, even if they were no different from what I had been eating all along and large enough to satisfy my appetite. Somewhere in my mind, though, a part of me constantly screamed that I needed several times more food than I was eating, while my tastebuds registered solid boredom.

My activities at home were tidy and self-contained. But now I was inclined to accuse myself of being fussy and boring. As I sat and watched the news, a part of me wanted to hit the gym and lift weights until I was sore. I started to jog more, which helped me cope, but my newfound inner voice was not fooled, and demanded a gym membership, although I was not willing to pay for one.

Worst of all was what happened at my job. As predicted, I came through the audit smelling like a rose -- and the audit revealed some irregularities in the records of two of my incompetent subordinates, which were enough to finally, at long last, get rid of them. I replaced both of them with one qualified new employee with genuine accounting credentials, which worked wonderfully. The new employee was able to take over all the tasks of her predecessors with ease (and, truth to tell, could probably have handled everything in the department which I didn't do myself without strain, given how terrible most of them were), and I was able to report a net savings to the CEO, who was pleased.

But I was beginning to question the value of my job. I came in early each day, sat at my desk, typed numbers into a computer, read reports, filled out the occasional form, attended meetings, and was usually the last person out of the building. I ate my homemade lunches at my desk and drank cups of tea. An inner voice screamed at me, demanding more and better food, less time spent in the office, sex with my better-looking coworkers, gym workouts over my lunchbreaks... and, of course, told me how extraordinarily boring it all was. Why did I care about the well-being of the company when I could be turning myself into a sensual, sexual beast of muscle?

My other self wasn't helping sublimate all of this. In fact, as time passed, he was making everything much worse; my subconscious seemed to enjoy playing with the possibilities offered by controlling a lucky, rich, dominant, huge, handsome stud. I sometimes wondered how a part of my mind dared play out those possibilities, even in a dream.

I grinned as I watched the workmen finish construction of my new house. It was a mansion, really -- twelve-foot ceilings, minimum, in every room -- and only that low in the basement. Enough rooms that Mark and I could fuck in a different setting every week for over a year if we wanted, and every room extra-large. A gym which would, once the house was finished, be equipped with more and sturdier equipment than any commercial gym I had ever seen. Every part of the construction would be reinforced and super-sturdy to accomodate whatever abuse my ever-growing body could dish out. We stood in the construction trailer, the door locked, as I screwed Mark into the floor.

"That's gonna be one fucking giant house."

"Well, yeah, 'cause I'm a fucking giant."

"Oh! God! Ride me! Again! Oh! God! Oh! God! Aaaagh!"

Even Mark couldn't keep pace with my growth. When I had met him, months earlier, he was approximately my equal. Now I was at least four inches taller than him, the better part of a hundred pounds heavier, and hung an inch and a half longer. If I wasn't such a confident muscle-beast, I might almost have wondered about our relationship. With every passing day, Mark, without becoming any less muscular or sexy (in fact, he had put on another twenty pounds during that time), was becoming more submissive to me, and I was responding by becoming more macho, more assertive, more dominating. Real alpha-male stuff.

Mark was starting to have problems walking because I was fucking him so often and so hard. But neither of us really wanted to stop; I felt the need to top someone at least eight times a day, now, and Mark didn't even want to resist my overwhelming sexuality. When I got off, he got off too.

I emerged from the trailer. Mark followed me and took up my hand as he staggered, his ass sore from the amount of pounding it had taken over the last few weeks. My button-down shirt felt even tighter now than it had before, and the bulge of my still-stiff cock pulled the crotch of my pants tight; just looking down I felt myself starting to get hard again, intoxicated by my own supreme masculinity.

Two of the construction workers came forward. They weren't as big as Mark, let alone me, but they were the largest of the construction crew, and it was clear that they were putting in time at a gym as well as working their jobs. It was also clear, from the bulges at their crotches and the awed expressions on their faces, that they were interested in the two of us.

"How soon will this be finished?" I rumbled in my ever-deepening bass. Their mouths dropped open; clearly they were simply overwhelmed by me. "Yo, listen, little boys, I asked you a question. When will the house be ready?" Still no answer.

I looked at Mark. "Can't even answer questions? Looks like these two need to be taught a lesson." Mark whispered into my ear. "Really? Well, if it would make you happy."

I reached out and grabbed each of them by the arm, and dragged them into the trailer. I wasn't strong enough to just lift them both at once -- yet, said a voice in the back of my head -- but there was no doubt I was strong enough to pull them around, especially since they seemed to be unresisting.

Mark followed us in and locked the door, then undid his fly and prepared to pleasure himself.

"Okay, boys, you seem to like my muscle. My partner over there thought you ought to experience it for yourself."

The two of them actually sank to their knees. One of them let out a moan. I smirked; this was going to be fun. I raised my arms in a double biceps pose and flexed hard. Buttons popped and cloth ripped, and the sleeves flopped down my bulging forearms while my upper arms showed through massive tears, where the force of my expanding muscles had pulled the fabric apart. Then I put my arms down in a most muscular, and popped the buttons which had barely been holding my pecs inside my shirt. Finally, I reached down with one massive hand and pulled the rags away completely, exposing my giant torso.

As the two construction workers let out moans, I reached down and undid my belt and zipper, and pulled my huge cock out. It was already nearly fully hard, but as I held it I flexed the necessary muscles and soon it was at its gigantic best.

"Now, the two of you are going to take your punishment for failing to answer my simple question." I gave them a grin. Mark starting jacking off as I hiked the pants off the one on my left...

As all four of us walked out of the trailer, the others all walking funny, I checked once more with Mark.

"Are you sure that was okay with you?"

"What, that you aren't monogamous? Nah, it was hot as hell. And besides, you're really starting to be too much for me to handle on my own." He smirked at the two construction workers, who were basically standing at attention. "Maybe you should get their phone numbers and call them in once we're living here. We could start a harem for you. Or a stable."

The two construction workers perked up at that. "A harem... that doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually, as long as you stick around to keep 'em in line." I pushed my tongue down Mark's throat as the construction workers blushed.
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Old June 6th, 2013, 11:36 PM
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Whoa... I think I have a new favorite author around here. *slow clap* This was excellent.
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Old June 7th, 2013, 05:20 PM
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At each installment so far I have kept myself from sounding stupid but...
aaghhhaath! (spasming on the ground)
Soooo gooood... I can't wait for more!
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Old June 7th, 2013, 06:37 PM
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Thanks for the compliments!

There will be two more parts. The last part will be very long. I'm kind of looking forward to it, and not just because it will mean the story is over so I won't be keeping up with three stories at once. Although that IS a consideration.
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