In Corpore Sano - Part Twelve

[tekuno]

Hooray for Labor Day! Maybe it's only at this time of year because the U.S. political establishment has always been desperately afraid that the poor would realize they are getting screwed and so we couldn't possibly have our holiday at the same time that Communist countries had theirs, but it's still nice to have an extra day off, which a surprising number of us don't get because we no longer have unions to fight for that sort of thing! Maybe Obama will spend the day reflecting and realize that spending a minimum of tens of millions of dollars while simultaneously proclaiming austerity in order to bomb yet another country which can't possibly pose a direct threat to the U.S. against the will of a solid majority of the citizens in order to install in that country a "rebel" regime which is quite definitely linked to Al Queda, is probably not a good idea! We can only hope!

In any event, I had some spare time, so I wrote this. Next I'll draw some nice pictures to go with the last few parts of Caveman.

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In Corpore Sano
Part 12

This story has been completed. Content warnings and general description are included with the prologue, general commentary is in the comments following the epilogue.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Epilogue

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Sex with Paul this time was almost indescribable. Our previous contact had not seemed particularly gentle at the time, but in retrospect it was clear that it had been so. Now the kid gloves were off. Both of us were, by any normal standards, immensely powerful men, although Paul was unquestionably my superior in every way. If, before, he had thrown me around like a rag doll, there were simply no words to describe the violence with which he pounded me. More than once I realized that if I had not been growing so incredibly quickly these last few weeks, the sheer force of Paul's thrusts would probably have killed me, or at least severely injured me. Instead -- once the initial pain faded -- it was as though every move only increased my pleasure, as Paul's gigantic cock pushed in and out of, and also (later) across, my body.

Which isn't to say that Paul didn't give me my own chances. After his initial orgasm I finished undressing and plugged his ass as hard as I could. I may not have rivaled Paul's incredible size and power, but I found myself filled once again with energy and... I suppose you could describe it as "erotic inspiration". It was clear, from his motions and reactions, that I was doing everything right. With every thrust I felt more charged, more powerful, more turned on. I had thought I had a full erection at first, but I could feel myself getting harder and harder as the minutes turned into hours.

We fucked in the entryway, and on the floor, and gradually made our way to a bedroom -- by way of a sofa -- where I'm reasonably certain we would have broken the legs off the bed if the frame had had any. (I had passed beyond 300 pounds of muscular stud early in the week, and Paul was so much larger than me that, combined, we must have been closer to 700 pounds than 600, if not beyond it.) On the sofa, our motions actually lifted the whole thing off the floor once or twice, and rocked it back and forth again and again.

At long last, Paul's lust seemed to be slaked; mine was not, but I had temporarily run out of stamina. I lay on Paul's arm, with my erection waving in the warm air of the bedroom, as he fell into a doze. I jacked off twice more, staring down at our beautiful bodies, before I joined him. My cock was now an amazing sight; its newfound hardness was astonishing, like steel wrapped in skin, and my blood was pulsing through it so hard that it actually seemed a good inch larger than usual. I turned the bedside light off before lying back.

When I woke up, the bed was cold and slightly damp, and I had a desperate need to visit the bathroom. I pushed against Paul's clammy mass as I got out of bed, and wandered in the direction of the hallway to look for a bathroom. I stubbed my toe lightly on the way out of the darkened room, but we had left the rest of the house lit up, and it didn't take much exploring to find a smallish washroom.

After doing my business I looked at myself in the mirror over the sink. It took some time; the mirror was not unusually small, but there was a lot of me to look at.

I was magnificent. Not a match for Paul, of course, but larger than I had been before by a noticeable margin. "Well, of course I'm bigger, I've been having sex with Paul" ran through my mind, and only then did I consciously realize the truth of that statement, although it had been rolling through my subconscious for over a week.

Merely looking at myself was enough to make my newly-larger cock hard again. I reached down and felt its new length and girth, and marveled at the increased size of my arms. I was more vascular than ever, and my body hair was already growing back in after I had shaved it off. I frowned. I much preferred being smooth like a bodybuilder on stage, but as a temporary thing it didn't look bad.

I debated whether to jack off directly into the sink, and finally decided to see if I could get another round with Paul. If nothing else, I had noticed a full-length mirror in the bedroom, and I could worship myself more effectively there. I trudged back to the bedroom, enjoying the sound of my feet on the floorboards as my increased weight made itself felt.

I gave Paul a nudge, and called his name, but he didn't wake up. Not even when I turned on the lights. So I went to the mirror and began to work myself up. Not that it required much effort. In the larger mirror, I could see just how incredible I had become. Every inch of my body was thick with powerful, veiny, corded muscles. The fibers of nearly every one were visible, and starting to glisten with sweat as I flexed hard and massaged myself.

There was a grunt from the bed behind me and I turned around -- even at this late point, sex with Paul was better than masturbation. I bent over to flaunt my new size in Paul's face.

In what had been Paul's face.

One eye stared at me lidlessly from his left cheek. The other twitched in random directions halfway up the forehead. His mouth drooped off to one side, opening into the side of his head as his nose melted like a candle.

I screamed and backed away from the bed. Paul let out a mooing sound and sat up; the blanket fell away from a torso which no longer had a muscular structure that was recognizably human. Lumps boiled out of the mass and subsided; little half-developed pseudo-limbs punched out at random and gradually deflated, gesticulating wildly. His arms sprouted arms of their own as they lost their bones and became horrible sacks of flesh. The suppurating mass which had once been Paul staggered towards me on two pulsating stumps which had once been legs, genitals lost in a clump of fleshy sacs like giant skin tags. Dozens of eyes blinked from what had been a torso, mouths lined with tiny, razor-sharp teeth screeched at me as the tottering thing exploded into a giant fleshy blob which began to fill the room, tentacles with claws reaching out to scratch at the surface of my skin.

Suddenly I awoke. Paul was leaning over me. For once he wasn't smirking.

"You okay, Scotty?"

I gave a moan. "Oh, god, I had some kind of nightmare."

The smirk made its return. "Yeah, I gathered. You're awake now, though. Let's have some food and then we can go again."

"Give me a minute." I was starting to take in details; it was still nighttime, but Paul had turned on several lights and was wearing some sort of thong-like underpants. His body was, I felt sure, larger than it had been at the front door -- or was it simply my imagination?

Paul walked out of the room -- even though I was still shaking with terror, the enormous muscles of his ass made me hard as he left. I finally staggered out of bed to the bathroom -- which, I now saw, was slightly to the side of the mirror. Mirrors, really; unlike in my dream Paul had a set of triple reflecting mirrors like tailors use.

When I entered the bathroom, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and did a take. Although I was pale and sweating from the trauma of the dream, if anything my self-image in the dream had been an understatement. I was unbelievable -- in a few hours I seemed to have made up half the gap between myself and Paul's impossible mass (if he was really still the same size). After taking care of my bladder I flexed and posed my bulging new muscles; before long I was my normal color again, and my dick was hard as a rock -- just as in my dream, but even larger.

I dug around in Paul's dresser and found another thong, and pulled it on. After a moment's thought, I also scavenged a shirt and some shorts -- possibly my gym shorts were stretchy enough to still fit, but nothing else would. And after that dream I felt the need to be able to beat a hasty retreat if necessary.

As I headed towards the kitchen, a stray thought occurred to me. Had Paul's eyes always been blue...?

Part 13

[convolution]

This is that point in the horror movie when you're screaming at the protagonist
"Run Away!! Run Away!!"...
But he won't.
Sexy, scary

[tekuno]

Originally Posted by convolution

This is that point in the horror movie when you're screaming at the protagonist
"Run Away!! Run Away!!"...
But he won't.
Sexy, scary

Nah. It's when you start hearing thumps from the basement. Or the walls. It's amazing how many people forget to check inside the walls.

[funboy]

Ok - this is becoming even more cool.