In Corpore Sano - Part 13

[tekuno]

I said I would draw stuff for the last part of Caveman before posting this. But I wrote this within 24 hours of writing part 12, and then kept telling myself I would feel like drawing the Caveman stuff in time to pretend this was all on schedule.

That never happened. So, rather than make the readers who seem to be enjoying this story wait for me to feel like drawing again, I'm just putting it up now. I can finish the stupid drawings later; it's not like they're critical to the plot when that story is already over.

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In Corpore Sano
Part 13

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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Paul was in the kitchen, cooking a sort of cross between breakfast and a bodybuilder's bulking diet. In a gigantic frying pan he had apparently started making some sort of scrambled egg/Denver omelet concoction, while what looked like a whole package of bacon cooked in the microwave. The blender was filled nearly to the top with cut-up fruit and protein powder, and as I entered he poured in a large dollop of milk, closed the top, and started it running. Meanwhile, a chef's pan had four chicken breasts sizzling away in some sort of olive oil sauce, and the smell of lightly toasting bread came from the oven.

I watched his massive body from the back as he cooked. No doubt about it; he was even more massive than before. He looked impossibly huge, like a superhero out of a comic book from the 1990s, only more realistic. The bulk of his huge upper back pushed outward in all directions, not only forcing his enormous arms out but also hiding the small of his back, all of his neck, and most of his head. His ears were hidden by the mass of his traps.

His ass was likewise enhanced. I was absolutely sure it hadn't been so massive when I had been fucking it earlier -- I was also sure it was the biggest one on earth, other than those belonging to the obese. Not even the incredible muscles of his upper legs could make it look small. Those legs were long and thick and powerful, forcing each other outward until there must have been at least a foot and a half of distance between Paul's knees, even when he had his legs "together". And dangling down, seeming almost to reach into that space, was an enormous nutsack; Pauls testicles must have been at least the size of tennis balls.

Up above, Pauls fantastically huge arms moved as he cooked. I would have been prepared to swear that nobody Paul's size could possibly have had the kind of dexterity and mobility he was showing, but he did. From behind, his triceps twitched and danced as he finished up the meal, each head a softball-sized mass under his skin.

At last everything was finished; when Paul turned around I came involuntarily at the sight of him from the front. He was monstrous in an entirely different way from my dream.

His chest was incredible. It bulged outward in two huge masses, every fiber distinct and thick, framed by deltoids and biceps which seemed to be almost as large, and overhanging the eight segments of his huge abs so much that the top portion was completely lost in shadow.

But the thing which stood out most was his cock. There was no question, now, that it was two feet long. Maybe longer. It stood an an upwards angle, pointing towards my face, covered in throbbing veins. As Paul walked to the kitchen table with a tray of food, it swayed back and forth. Just the sight of it was almost hypnotizing, so large and menacing. I could hardly imagine having something like that inside me, and yet I felt a desperate, urgent need.

We ate eggs and bacon and protein-enhanced fruit smoothies and chicken sandwiches with melted cheese. I can barely remember the flavors because more than half of Paul's cock rose behind the edge of the table. Between that and his incredible, unbelievable chest, my mouth was watering for things other than food.

Paul didn't seem particularly concerned about sex. He wore his new size like a bathrobe. But he wasn't savoring every bite of the meal, either. Nor did he speak. He just stared vacantly. After I finished my share of the food -- I bolted it down as though ravenous, hoping the orgasms would start that much sooner -- I just sat and watched Paul.

He was beautiful. Every muscle was so enlarged that he was now a giant; there was no way he would be able to walk down the street without having his picture in the papers and all over the Internet. He was only barely human-sized enough to sit comfortably at the table, and if he continued to grow like he had been it wouldn't be long before he would start to find the house constricting.

But in addition to that, my eyes were drawn back again and again to his face. I had always thought of Paul as a sort of human weasel, smirking his way through life, but he looked like he was a born model, or a movie star, if the men in either of those professions ever got as large as he now was.

Were his cheekbones always that high? They didn't look like the ones in my memory.

And his ears; surely they stuck out more than that. Didn't they?

Were his eyebrows always so--?

Paul finished eating and gazed down at his plate for a moment. Then he started and looked up at me. After a moment or two he pushed his chair back with his legs and stood towering over me. "Time to fuck some more!" he boomed, and pulled me up.

I was in for another session of violent motion and initial pain, it seemed. Paul's cock, rock-like and now so big I could feel the blood throbbing in it as it pushed in and out of me, seemed to split me in two. He carried me through the house, holding me by the waist as he pumped in and out, to the bedroom. We stood -- or, at least, he stood and I had no choice but to remain in his powerful grip -- in front of the mirror.

What followed was a kind of ecstatic sex show. The sight of Paul's muscles and superhuman genitals fucking the sort of ultimate man I had now become added a new dimension to the whole thing, and I came and came and came, over and over, as Paul fucked and fucked and fucked. His stamina was incredible; over an hour had passed, and I was beginning to pass out, when finally he let go and gave a mighty roar as I felt an incredible pressure from inside and was pushed off his cock.

Even after I fell to the floor, the cum continued to fountain out of Paul's member, which I was not surprised to see had become even bigger. Finally, after more than two minutes (during which I myself came again), the flood subsided.

I couldn't quite decide what I wanted to do. More sex? Cuddle Paul's enormous body? Just stand in awe? My mind was still hazy, and I knelt, slack-jawed, in front of Paul, who contrived to look -- and perhaps was -- even huger than before. He leered down at me over his basketball pectorals and the tip of his giant, red, swollen cock. "I'm having a party in a few days. You'll come. Give me your cell phone number."

I nodded and started to recite it, and he cuffed me on the side of the head. "Write it down, stupid." He indicated a secretary desk in the corner with a wave.

I nodded again and got to my feet. As I copied my number down onto a scratchpad in the corner of the desk, a series of thumps came from the floor. They shook me out of my haze and I looked over at Paul.

Paul was staring furiously at the floor. "You get out of here," he said to me, but I was totally naked -- Paul had torn my clothing off again in the heat of sex. He scowled, and quickly rummaged through drawers and the closet, throwing me an outfit. "Get out. Now."

I hurried to pull on the clothing. It was, if anything, slightly loose, which surprised me, but I was still hoping for just one more round with Paul before I left. "Do I have to go right now?"

Just at that moment, there was another thump from the floor, and Paul practically snarled at me. "Get. Out. You'll come when I call you. You're my bitch. Third floor eggplant is for business."

"What?"

"I said you're my bitch." He seemed to consider this, and then smirked. "Everyone's my bitch. Now get out."

As I walked to the front door, there were more thumps from the bedroom floor. As I walked out, I swore I heard a mooing sound like my dream, which killed the remainder of my desire so thoroughly that I almost ran to my car.

I had trouble getting in. I noted with satisfaction that I was now really too large for the car. I would have to stop off and buy more clothing again, too, before work.

I looked in the rear-view mirror as I drove away. All the lights in the house seemed to go out at once -- or was it my imagination?

Part 14

[convolution]

Almost time to pay the piper ?

[tekuno]

Nope. Not yet. Got some more stuff up my sleeve. (And there are some loose ends, too. Got to tie them off.)

You'll understand if I don't illustrate this series, though.