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  #1   Add to tekuno's Reputation   Report Post  
Old August 16th, 2013, 11:33 PM
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Caveman - Part Seventeen

Yay! At long last, another part of this story!

This story segment was brought to you by me either pulling an intercostal muscle or breaking a rib, not sure which one although the former seems more plausible given the symptoms (and the fact that it started when I switched to a new gym-going pattern involving more abdominal work). Whichever it is, I have had to give up going to the gym and currently spend as much of my time as possible sitting around upright to avoid spasms of pain, which seem to be unavoidable when doing common things... like getting in/out of bed, or standing up from a chair, or bending over to pick something up. Not fun, but I'm writing again. So, it's an ill wind blah blah blah...

I don't know if this signals that I'm going to write on a regular basis again, but at least I have this for you now. Next will be more of In Corpore Sano.

-----

Caveman
Part Seventeen

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

-----
Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words 'EAT ME' were beautifully marked in currants. 'Well, I'll eat it,' said Alice, 'and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!'
--Lewis Carroll (Charles Dodgson), Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
-----

"What part was that, Williams?"

"The part where the caveman got huge."

"How huge?"

"Dunno where he ended up, but he was big as fuck -- a lot bigger than you -- when I left. Say, uh, Hammond, can I... never mind." Paul reached down and adjusted his hard-on. I noticed as he did so that his eyes never left my body.

"How did this happen?"

"Well, uh, he snapped his fingers, and this thing wheeled out and he lay down on it." Paul paused and adjusted his hard-on again, still staring at me. It was extremely large, on a par with Norris' cock when it had been hard. "And then he, uh..."

Paul's forehead was suddenly covered with beads of sweat. He wiped it off with his hand, and then absentmindedly wiped his hand on his crotch -- which made his eyes, still watching my body, bulge at the sensation. He let out a kind of bleat, or maybe a tortured groan.

"He... uh... he started grabbing guys, and..." another groan. "Listen, Hammond, I, uh, do you mind if I... um..."

It was fun, I have to admit, to watch Paul Williams, former would-be bane of my existence, squirm as he struggled to control his arousal at my body. A mean streak I didn't know I had made me do a few rather theatrical stretches, raising my arms over my head and flexing, and pushing my crotch (already hard, knowing that Paul's libido was essentially in my possession) outward. Even if he hadn't been staring at me, he could hardly have failed to notice.

Apparently I kind of overloaded Paul's brain in some way, because his speech became a series of non-word syllables for a while. Finally, I decided to put him out of his misery, and flexed an arm under his nose.

"Go on, touch it. I know you want to."

The speed of gibberish increased, but he started groping my arm, and then my shoulder, and then my pecs. It wasn't long before his speech turned to a series of moans, and finally I peeled away my shorts and let him worship my cock. It felt amazingly good; only then did it dawn on me just how long it had been since the last time I had a sexual release -- a few days ago, it would have been unthinkable to go that long.

Of course, a few months ago, it would have been unthinkable for that to be unthinkable. It was hard to keep perspective on the changes to my body.

Paul tried repeatedly to fit the head of my cock in his mouth. It didn't work; the head was too big, his mouth was too small, and the enormous length of my cock combined with how hard it had become meant that he had to stand on his toes to even get close enough to try. Finally, he mounted my cock and pressed his whole torso against it, rubbing up and down while trying to keep his mouth over the slit.

After about ten minutes, he was starting to get a little sweaty from the sustained effort. It suddenly dawned on me that, as with so much else, I now had full control over my cock. I had not ejaculated because I had not chosen to do so, and I had not chosen to do so because I was enjoying the sensations involved. I wondered how long I had had this control without realizing it. Since I needed him to finish his story, and I couldn't do that while he was in a frenzy, I came.

As the semen started pouring out of me, Paul tried as hard as he could to drink it all. He didn't manage to do that, but he got the majority of it. Then he dismounted, stood facing me, and gave an evil grin.

"As I was about to say: Gary started sucking guys off, and every time he swallowed their cum, he got bigger and bigger! And now I've had your cum!"

In a story, I probably would have freaked out. But frankly, with the amount of my cum my friends had absorbed into different orifices over the last several days, including a few blowjobs, I was willing to bet that that particular feat was exclusive to Gary.

And maybe me, too. Now that I thought about it, I hadn't actually given my friends head, ever. Not even once. I was a top, sexually; they hadn't even fucked me in the ass except a couple of times with great fanfare as a favor to them. Mostly, I fucked them, or jacked them off, or let them fuck my pec cleavage. Not a drop of cum had actually gone into my mouth.

After considering this aspect of things and looking over my memories of the last week, I concentrated on Paul again. His grin was still there, but it was now desperate; his forehead was starting to bead up with even more sweat, and I could see fear in his eyes.

"Daffy, I think you just told Elmer that it's duck season." I grinned at his obvious dismay. He started to back away, but I grabbed him and lifted him up. "Trust me, Williams, if I could think of any other way to test the idea, I wouldn't do this with you." I popped his cock in my mouth and started to suck. After all the visual and physical stimulation, it didn't take long before I swallowed everything he had to give. He rather conspicuously failed to grow in any way during that period, so either the effects were extremely gradual or I was right about the requirements excluding ordinary guys, even if hopped up on Gary's formula.

I pushed him away, pulling his deflating erection out of my mouth, and licked my lips. It didn't taste as bad as I expected, but it wouldn't win any prizes, either -- even the cylinders managed to taste significantly better.

"So, Williams, how long did it take for the growth to start for Guh!" Suddenly, I bent double at the waist. I was painfully hungry again -- worse than I had ever felt in my life, even including my initial growth spurt. I almost fell over from the pain in my stomach. I had barely enough presence of mind to race to the kitchen, where I ate. And ate. And ate. I ate all the remaining cylinders, everything in the refrigerator, the contents of every can in the pantry (squeezing the cans open with my hand to save time), and everything in the freezer, biting through frozen meat like it was gelatine.

It was only after I finished every scrap of food that I could find -- I even dumped bags of flour and sugar into my mouth, and crunched down raw eggs, shells and all -- that I stopped being painfully hungry, and noticed that I had carried Paul with me the whole time with my other arm. He was staring up at me.

"What the fuck is your problem, Williams?"

Paul's voice was small and respectful. "Nothing. Sir."

It suddenly dawned on me that Paul was further away than he should be, and that my hand was larger in proportion to his body, and I grinned. Some conclusions you can't help but reach with a standing jump. "Well, I see what you meant by Gary being much bigger. If you, all by yourself, could make me this big, then a whole room of guys..." That wiped the grin off my face. Gary must be a giant by now!

I carried Paul with me, almost without thinking, back to the bedroom. Yes, in my mirror I could see: I was now a behemoth. I had to be at least 12 feet tall now, brushing even the high ceilings of my parents' house, and "muscular" wasn't even the start of it. I no longer looked human -- although since technically I wasn't actually human, in the genetic sense, that was merely truth in advertising.

In human terms, my measurements were almost impossibly large. My arms were... big. For a start, they were longer, proportionally, than human arms usually are. They hung down from my gigantic, wrecking-ball shoulders until I could touch the floor, if I could reach straight down. Except I couldn't. The muscles of my arms were huge. My upper arms were nearly as big around as Paul's chest, and my forearms were similarly swollen. Paul looked tiny with my gargantuan hand supporting him, even though he was actually enormous.

My torso was also difficult to describe in human terms. Muscular men get a "V"-shaped torso as their back muscles start to flare outward. As I had demonstrated over the last week or so, after a while, as the muscles grow thicker and wider, the "V" starts to look like a "T" with a heavy top-stroke. Well, now I was starting to look like a "W"; my lats had grown so large that they pushed out and then down. Except that my traps now rose higher than the top of my head -- despite the fact that my neck appeared to have lengthened as well. So maybe my torso looked more like an infinity symbol -- or maybe I was beyond mere typography metaphors. Of course, my pecs distracted from that; they were so huge and thick and rounded now that even with the mirror I couldn't see my nipples. Below them, my abdominals were row upon row of inhumanly perfect, bulging and taut segments of pure muscle, a column of dense power.

And, of course, there was my cock. It was now at least five feet of... well, perfect penis-ness. The shape of it was sort of an idealized version of the masculine sex organ; you could sell pictures of it as artwork, although you'd probably make more money selling pictures of it as porn. Down below that, I could see with the assistance of the mirror, testicles like basketballs hung down in a hairy sack nearly to my knees, which were narrow pinches in legs which were so thick and powerful and muscular they were almost scary, even to me.

After a few moments of staring at the mirror, I suddenly realized that I desperately wanted to fuck myself. Oh, well. Not all fantasies can come true. I'd have to settle for merely being the sexiest being in the world.

Except, presumably, Gary. "Oh, yes, that's right," I thought to myself, "I have to do something about Gary." But I was still hesitant to look away from my reflection. As my cock hardened, I was getting even sexier! Oh, man, how could that even be possible?

I became aware of a tapping sound, and Paul said "huh!". Without looking around, I said "what, bored already, Williams?"

There was a squeak from Paul, followed by a gulp. "No, sir. I was just looking at the bug tapping on the window, sir. Strangest thing I've ever seen."

"There are always bugs at this time of year. Sometimes they tap against the glass." I mentally permitted myself to start a slow orgasm, and watched my giant dick rise into view around the massive curves of my chest, leaking cum. It was like I was carved out of a giant block of solidified sexuality.

"Yes, sir. But I don't think they usually carry mail."

That brought my attention to the window. It was true. There was an attenuated but small moth-like insect bumping on the window. It had a piece of tape attached to its midsection like a banner, on which there was small but visible printing. Once I was looking at the window, its behavior changed. It landed on the pane, pushed down one end of the tape, which stuck, and crawled off to the side, stretching out a message.

Stretched out, the tape read: "CHECK YOUR E-MAIL".


Last edited by tekuno; August 31st, 2013 at 09:42 PM.
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  #2   Add to convolution's Reputation   Report Post  
Old August 17th, 2013, 02:36 AM
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Thanks for the great story, and I'm sorry to hear about your injury.

"i toku wairua; i toku aho no te atua; i toku aroha; i toku hiahia; i toku mau tauira;"

A Maori healing Karakia (prayer).
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"You could be big, too, but you gotta need it, like you need your next breath.?
(from Jaypat's story "I Wanna Get Huge")

Last edited by convolution; August 17th, 2013 at 02:36 AM. Reason: format fix
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Old August 17th, 2013, 08:50 AM
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Nice!

Great chapter! Happy to see this continued. Very, very sexy.
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Old August 18th, 2013, 01:39 PM
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Injuries are bad. Heal up man.

With regards to the story... Encroaching on "too big to be useful" territory there, and wow, Mitchell seems to be losing his focus.

Don't lose your focus man. You have to beat the bastard in the cave.
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