A Lucid Account - Part 7

[tekuno]

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

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Only one part left after this -- get ready for the end!

I may have to bring back Dr. Lee-Pudsley later. For reasons which, at least, nobody has commented on and therefore perhaps nobody has noticed, I'm not getting half the mileage out of her as I could. (Heh heh heh.)

----

A Lucid Account
Part 7

In my calmer moments, I admitted to myself that my other self was launching into hedonistic debauchery to a degree which was simply revolting and utterly against my principles.

Mostly, though, the mere thought of my other self's lifestyle turned me on to a degree which I would never have thought possible.

By the time my enormous mansion was complete, I had seduced a round dozen men, not counting Mark. Every single one was a gym rat or bodybuilder. Some of them I had handled in, well, a seductive way, by attracting them and gradually enticing them into bed (or some equivalent). Most of them, though, I had simply dragged off by force and effectively raped, although none of them had been unwilling by the time they had been pushed into a private location. Either I had incredible personal magnetism or the tremendously effective ability to select partners.

Either way, every one of them was so abjectly stimulated by the thorough fucking I gave them that they were happy to move in with me and Mark. Most of them became sort of modified sex slaves -- they would go out and work their jobs like usual, and then come back to the mansion where their lives were consumed in sex and service (and workouts and food, of course -- my other self knew that if they didn't get proper exercise and nutrition, they would shrink, and that would make them useless).

Meanwhile, I was growing bigger every day. My proportions were nothing short of grotesque. I could understand how the slaves didn't want to leave; there was no chance they could find anyone in the world as large as me -- or who had a cock the same size. While awake, I was starting to wonder whether they were even safe -- sooner or later, surely all that ass-pounding would rupture something in one of them, given the size of my tool.

Meanwhile, when I wasn't asleep I was increasingly agitated by the difference between my other self and my ordinary self. I was so small, and weak, and boring, and old. Old before my time -- I was nearly 43, which is hardly geriatric! But I was suddenly aware that my life was that of an old man. I might as well be in a nursing home. The most activity I ever undertook was jogging, and I might as well just stop that for all the good it seemed to be doing me.

Fighting down my intense embarrassment, I gave in and bought a gym membership. I slunk into the gym at odd times -- dinnertime on weekends, the extreme early morning on weekdays -- to avoid letting people see me.

I had intense disorientation because I was so incredibly weak. My other self would have laughed at the equipment in the gym, it was so pathetic. I would have loaded the bench with the maximum it could hold and then done a hundred reps, and concluded by bending the bar into a loop. Or maybe I would have curled the fully-loaded bar -- the things only had enough space at each end to take five 45-pound plates, which made a total of 495 pounds with the bar, which was actually slightly less than I was curling at the mansion for reps.

I suffered the humiliation of confidently loading up a bar with 45s and then having to remove all the weights, one at a time, and eventually using a pair of 10s at each end instead. 85 pounds! I was benching 85 pounds! Every single other guy in the gym used more than that!

Even the machines were a humiliating debacle. I wasn't limber enough to fit in some of them, and I constantly had to adjust the various positioning parts because I was so small. And I discovered, the one day that I went during daylight hours, that fat old ladies were using more weight than I was. One of them actually sneered at my weakness openly as she moved the pin two plates down!

I frantically bought protein powder, workout supplements, everything I could find. Alas, most of the weight I gained went straight to my stomach, but after a couple of weeks -- in which my other self gained 30 pounds of solid muscle and had an orgasm roughly every half hour during the day, on average -- I finally worked my way up to benching one 45-pound plate on each side of the bar -- 135 pounds. Once. And I was in serious pain the next day.

This was reflected, slightly, in my body. I had developed a slight -- very slight -- pot belly from all the supplements, but for the first time I could remember, my arms weren't twigs! There was some muscle growing on my body! It wasn't much -- no big, sexy bulges like my other self, but my limbs were very gradually thickening. This only served to remind me how far behind the male average I actually was -- surreptitious glances around the office confirmed that nobody at all was quite as skinny as I had been.

Sadly, that seemed to be the extent of the changes to me. My height remained exactly as it had been -- approximately the adult male average. Not that I was short, but my other self was tall and getting taller -- he towered over everyone now, even Mark.

And, sadly, my penis didn't seem inclined to get any bigger. I was 5 inches, which seemed to be about average for guys of my background according to some cautious searches on the Internet. But my other self was now nearly four times that size, and still growing.

It was driving me crazy! That may be why, in the middle of the workday, the mantra "taller, stronger, bigger muscles, bigger penis" still running in my head -- it was continuous now, I hardly even noticed I was thinking it -- I stripped down in the restroom to look at my body. And then I started thinking of my other self. And then I started masturbating into the sink.

And then the CEO walked in.

-----

I was a FUCKING BEAST. I was well over seven and a half feet tall, now. My muscles were HUGE BEYOND BELIEF -- I was an awesome figure. Mark had been getting accustomed to my increasingly gigantic cock, too -- maybe it was because I was now able to take out my lust on so many other men.

It pleased me that they were being carried along with me towards ultimate masculinity -- I don't know if it was the effect of all the cum I was dumping into them, or whether it was just the lifestyle we were living (sleep, eat, sex, work out, repeat), but all of them were growing. Not at the amazing rate I was, but enough that, if we had entered a bodybuilding competition together, every single person who placed in any way would have been me or living with me.

In fact, right at this moment I was coming off the stage. I had decided to compete again. My stable took up about half of the third row, except for Mark and one of the bigger other guys, who were there to oil me up and... help release any tension I might have, let's say.

I was going to win. This was a fact. Next to me, all the other super-heavyweights looked like anemic teenagers. For a start, I was at least sixteen inches taller than the next tallest person competing, who wasn't even in the super-heavyweight class. I had over two fucking hundred pounds of muscle on every other super-heavyweight competitor, though, which is what counted. And although we had shaved off all my body hair that morning, there was already stubble growing in all over. I looked like the beast I was.

Now I dragged Mark and whatsisname -- I really didn't bother to remember their names, other than Mark -- into the washroom, pulled down my custom posers, and made up for the hour I had had to spend with no sex by fucking the two of them until they could barely walk. Then I went out to claim my prize.

It was tempting to fuck the runners-up onstage -- just bend them over and have my way with them. I don't think anyone could have stopped me. But I settled for just letting my cock get harder, and harder, and harder as the awards ceremony continued. The crowd cheered, then went silent, and finally started giving off little moans as my meat inflated and rose, inch by inch. Down below, my giant balls -- the size of softballs, now -- pulled the opposite direction, stretching the material tighter and tighter. I heard and saw orgasms from more than one person watching -- on stage. The audience was even more into it.

When I finally went backstage, after a round of gratuitous posing which was almost like a sex show because I worked my cock into it as well, I was mobbed by the other super-heavyweights. I chose a lucky three to come home with us -- three more men to serve and worship my body. Before we left, though, I fucked another six of them senseless in the bathroom. As I walked out, my cock swinging back and forth with each step, I called over my shoulder: "see, if you little twerps weren't weak enough to fall over from a single fucking, you'd be coming home with me."

I was feeling more energetic, more powerful than usual. I could hardly wait to get home and lift -- and break in my three new slaves.

-----

Naturally, my subconscious just had to tease me. The night after I got put on "administrative leave" at work for being nude in front of the CEO, my other self had his most outrageous, sex-filled day ever. It only STARTED with winning a bodybuilding contest. I went home and ate a banquet, had an orgy, broke my own incredible record (far above the mere official world record) for the bench press, then went to a bar filled with blue-collar guys and challenged everyone to arm wrestling. I ended up bringing another big guy home, and still fucked every single guy in the house at least once before finally going to bed. I was a monster, and I loved every minute of it.

But this really couldn't go on -- my life, my job at the company, everything was falling apart, all because of my other self. After a miserable morning and afternoon in which I flip-flopped back and forth between the pure, sweet addiction of my life as a being a pure male sex and the resolution to return to my life of ascetic professional duty, I finally got together the nerve to call Dr. Lee-Pudsley. Did she have a whole afternoon free any time soon? She did, right after the weekend.

I hung up, and realized with a shock that, all through the call and even now, in the back of my mind I was still chanting: taller, stronger, bigger muscles, bigger penis. I couldn't stop. I wasn't really sure I wanted to stop; even in real life I desired all of that -- or did I really? How much was really me, and how much was the other me? One thing was certain: Monday afternoon I was going to face this problem head-on at last.