Making Friends and Influencing People — Part 4

[tekuno]

Another long one. Because I will welcome any distraction from thinking about taxes.

MuscleAsh sends his regards.

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Making Friends and Influencing People
Part 4

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From Phil Elkhorn’s Private Journal

July 16:

I don’t know if you can really describe my life as “boring”, lately — I don’t think you get to call life “boring” when it routinely involves multi-partner sex — but it’s mostly been uneventful. Every day: work out, fuck, eat, work, eat, work out, fuck, eat, sleep. (Well, okay, some days aren’t like that — days off from the gym, or from the coffee shop, or when I miss out on some sex, or when I’m scheduled for a different shift, but that’s sort of the average. I went through the numbers, this morning — in the last week, I’ve been having an average of 7 orgasms a day. I don’t think I even managed that at the horniest part of high school! But somehow it just seems normal, now. Sometimes I’m even still horny afterwards. Tony says it’s because I’ve stimulated my hormones with all the lifting, but that sounds pseudo-science-y to me. But I’m not on the juice, so where is it coming from if that isn’t it?)

But there was sure an event today. Three of them, really.

The first big thing was the morning sex. Based on the usual schedule, I was expecting Omer and Cyrus, only, to be there. I have to admit, I’ve never learned so much about how to have sex as I have from being sandwiched between the two of them; on the one hand, you have this guy who is just unrelentingly forceful (but doing the right things) and on the other you have this guy who can tell you how you should be doing things to make best use of your anatomy. My guys have noticed the change — I think it finally set Ken’s mind at rest that I wasn’t going to leave him, because I was getting so good at it and still coming back to him.

So, I head into the team showers, and there were Omer, Cyrus, Adrian, Carlos, Sanjay, and Ray. I never expected that.

Actually, Ray’s not so scary once you get to know him. But most people never will, because you have to work up the courage to talk to him first, and he’s... well, it’s not just me; even Tony and Rocco agree that something about Ray just presses all the buttons in your mind labelled “dad”. He’s like the archetype of what a father is like when you’re around 8 years old — so much huger than you, and you know he has ultimate authority — except that he’s so big he can pull it off when you’re an adult.

On the other hand, once you get to know him, there’s nothing like seeing him smile at you — especially if it’s because of something you did. I completely understand why Carlos is hooked on him. (And why he’s hooked on Carlos. My god, best bottom ever.) (I just realized: if I had written that sentence in high school, I think I would have died of embarrassment. Just from writing it. But it’s true.)

Anyway, Ray’s cock is just as big as the rest of him. I’ve never seen a real 14-inch dick before, although some of the other guys are pretty amazing, too. And he knows how to use it, too.

So the sex after my jog was a real milestone — if I had been scheduled to work today, I would have been late. And maybe walking funny, too.

The second event of the day was at the frat house. I hadn’t actually been back since the 10th. Maurice might not scare Tony and Rocco, and sure, they’d pulverize him if he did anything to me, but that wouldn’t do me any good if he had already hurt me. I’ve been hoping that I’d outgrow him. I’m on my way — 18-inch arms, cold, now! — but not there yet by any means, so I’ve just been avoiding him when I can, and only going to the gym with other people.

There were a couple of “new” guys at the frat. Of course, just as usual everyone swears they’ve been there all along, but I’m absolutely certain they weren’t. I actually saw the inside of that room once before, and it was completely different.

Anyway, it started with us arriving, of course. There was someone shouting from behind the house, so I went and looked.

It was... interesting. There were two guys there. They were both kind of small for, um, “new guys”. There was one who was standing there with his arms crossed, looking down, and the other was doing a handstand up against the wall.

The one who was right-side-up may have been small, but he had a commanding presence second only to Ray. Maybe it’s because he was so angry. His proportions weren’t huge — well, okay, once again bigger than me, but compared to the other guys he was pretty slim, except for the bull neck — but he was taut and very vascular. He was wearing the tightest pair of jeans I’ve ever seen, but with a huge bulge in the crotch, and a short white wife-beater, which showed off his abs and made the most of his pecs, and also his tattoos and piercings. Come to think of it, it’s a little odd how few tattoos I’ve seen at the frat, but this guy made up for the deficit and then some. He had a huge dragon on his upper back, some “tribal” rings on his arms, a patterned tattoo on the side of his neck which climbed up to the edge of his chin, something on his left pec which I couldn’t quite make out, and a pattern on his abs which pointed down towards the bulge in his crotch. There were piercings in his ears, eyebrows, nose, upper lip, and belly button — some of them multiple — and you could see them all because he was shaved smooth everywhere except the top of his head, where he had a buzzcut.

The other guy, the upside-down one, was maybe a little taller — it was hard to tell — and dressed in a shirt and tie, with black slacks and black leather shoes. The tie was draped over his chin, because he was upside-down. His upper body seemed to be pretty big, although not on the scale of my guys. I couldn’t help noticing, because he was in full sunlight, that he had an erection tenting his pants. He was sweating, although whether it was with the effort or from the sunlight I couldn’t tell.

Tony and Rocco came up behind me around the house to see what I was looking at, and rolled their eyes. “Juan, what did he do this time?”

“Forgot the cream in my fucking coffee, is what. He’s going to stay in that position for twenty minutes to make it up to me, right pendejo?”

“Yes, sir!” If anything, the erection pushed the pants out further.

The angry guy noticed me, then, and did a double-take. “You! Fuck! You come with me!”

Rocco tried to stand in Juan’s way. “Hey, Juan, Phil is our friend, don’t—”

Juan somehow managed to get into Rocco’s face, despite being a few inches shorter. “Listen, pussy. You know the fucking rule. Until you beat me, I don’t take orders from you.”

Rocco and Tony exchanged glances. “How about a match right now?”

“Yeah, sure, gringos.” We headed indoors, and Juan pushed a bunch of stuff aside on the kitchen table and sat down. Rocco sat opposite, and they locked arms. Tony started them off.

I would never have believed that Rocco would lose to Juan at arm-wrestling; his arms were at least two inches bigger. But Juan’s bicep and shoulder and forearm muscles bulged out in sharp relief as soon as they started, and within seconds he was pushing Rocco down to the table.

Rocco got up, shaking his arm. “Fuck!”

Juan got up and glared at me. “You. Follow. Now.”

Rocco and Tony watched as we headed upstairs. I wasn’t at all happy with this turn of events — and even less thrilled when we went into a double bedroom and it was filled with stuff that looked like bondage gear. There was a studded leather jacket hanging on one of the bed supports, and a ball gag on another, and various straps and things were poking out of corners.

At that moment, the man in the tie walked into the room. Juan was instantly in his face.

“What are you doing here, pussy? I said twenty minutes!”

“Yes, sir—”

Juan hit him on the side of the head.

“Does it look like we’re in public?”

“No, master. Sorry, master. But the timer you set went off, so it was twenty minutes, master! See?”

Juan unzipped his pants, and took out his cock, which was long and thick. “Down!”

The man in the suit got on his hands and knees, and Juan started slapping him in the face with his cock.

“You. Do. Not. Interrupt. Me. When. I. Have. Someone. Else. In. The. Room. Got it?” Juan’s cock had started getting hard. So had the other man’s. “For that, thirty more minutes, puto!” Juan grabbed the timer and clicked it around, then shoved it back in the other man’s hand. The other man walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Juan turned to me. I was really worried — but suddenly he was draped around my neck, caressing me gently.

“Oh, god, I’ve been waiting to get you alone for so long. I knew as soon as I saw you that you were the one, the only one.” He got down on his hands and knees, and bowed his head to the floor. “Please, master, fuck me! I’ve been a bad boy!”

It was weird. The sex wasn’t bad — he wasn’t as good of a bottom as Carlos, but he insisted that I be on top. I think he was a little disappointed that it was so plain vanilla — at least, compared to what the contents of the room suggested he usually got up to — but he begged me to order him around, and so I ordered him to accept that I didn’t want anything exotic, and that seemed to do the trick. The other guy came back in when we had finished up and were getting dressed again, and when I left, Juan was pulling his tie too tight and swearing at him, and the both of them had massive erections.

It was really weird, needless to say — and another two gay men in the frat. Of course, this particular change had happened when I wasn’t even in the building during the day, so I had no more idea what had caused it than the others. But it was a little unnerving — most of the other guys were, well, so nice.

The third event of the day wasn’t really an “event” per se, but I noticed something new.

Ken finally came back from his football stuff a little late — he says the coach and the manager ask him for help moving equipment because he has about twice the strength of everyone else — and after we had eaten and had some sex, I told him about Juan, and he laughed for three minutes straight.

“Oh, geez, really?” Ken hugged me tight. “I don’t know how you do it, Phil. That guy has been out of control ever since he joined.”

“I’m just amazed he could beat Rocco at arm-wrestling.”

“Oh, he’s the heir to a steel mill conglomerate, and he insisted that his father let him work in the mills all through high school. He may not be as big as we are, but he definitely has pumped more iron than anyone else here — literally. The only guys who are stronger than him are Omer and Ray.”

“Ray is really that strong? He seemed so gentle to me.”

“What, you thought he was all show? No, Ray is... well, he doesn’t just have strength, he has control. That’s why he’s like he is, I think. Anyway, he reined in Juan’s attitude. I think he would have ordered him to stop with the S&M stuff completely, but Chad seems to like it.”

“Chad?”

“The other guy. He’s basically Juan’s slave, but he has some kind of ‘butler’ fetish. Sit in the lounge long enough for him to notice and he’ll bring you a cup of tea, or something.” Ken shrugged. “Takes all kinds to make a world, I guess. At least he makes himself useful and doesn’t cause any trouble.”

I lay back and digested that for a while, and finally we got up and got dressed to hit the bar — Tony and Rocco were going to join us later. I turned to Ken to say something, and something suddenly clicked in my head — I was looking straight at Ken’s clavicle. Now, he had always been taller than me, but when we met, my eyes had been on a line with the center of his chin.

“Uh... Ken?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we check your height?”

“Sure, if you want to.”

We measured, and he was 6' 10". When he had insisted on doing all those measurements of me, I had insisted on measuring him, too, and he had been 6' 5". (I was still 5' 10½".)

“Ken, you’re getting taller.”

He gave me a look. “What, you’re just noticing? We’ve all been getting taller.”

“I haven’t.”

“I mean the guys in the frat. All the ones you’ve been fucking. And bigger, too. Can’t you tell?” He flexed an arm. “28½ inches, now, Phil. They were 24½ when I met you.” He gave me a hug with the other arm, as if to demonstrate the strength — it certainly felt bigger.

“Oh, fucking fuck. I wonder if that means the change is because of me — or are you all changing into gay men so I’m just involved with you because I fit in?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

I really didn’t have much choice — I couldn’t lie to Ken*— so I told him about what I had noticed, and how Ray had once been Raymond, and how Juan’s room hadn’t been full of bondage gear before. It says a lot about Ken that he believed me right away — but he just shrugged.

“Look, Phil, even if you didn’t dream the whole thing, what could I do about it? And why would I bother? I like who I am. I’m the biggest, fastest, strongest guy on the football team, my grades are great, I have an incredible boyfriend and an out-of-this-world sex life, and I’m actually growing even bigger. Even if I was changed from something else, I can hardly believe that my life was better than that, beforehand. So why worry?”

I was still uneasy, but Ken was right — if I had no idea what was happening, there was nothing I could do, and no point in raising a fuss when everything was to my own benefit anyway. We headed off to the bar, and met Tony and Rocco there.

Looking at them carefully, I realized that the only reason I hadn’t noticed the increases was that they were keeping the same relative sizes. Tony and Rocco had been a bit shorter than Ken to begin with, and they still were — but now they were looming over me, if I had just paid attention. (And, now knowing that Ken’s arms were 28½ inches, the two of them had to be up to at least 30 apiece. Good fucking god! I practically came at the table!)

I don’t know how I made it through the evening, but I finally got back. But a new question has occurred to me: maybe I can’t do anything about these changes, but is there any way I could make them happen to me, too? Ken’s going to outgrow me completely, some day, if this keeps up.

July 18:

Just a note: when I was fucking Omer this morning, I checked. He is taller. Still not up to my height, though. I asked him about it — not mentioning the changes, of course — and he scowled.

“Yeah. I like the extra height, but it’s a problem. I’m nearly at the top of the highest weight class, you know? I go over 285, and I’m off the wrestling team. Just 7 more pounds, and I’ve been gaining muscle so fast it’s probably gonna happen sometime next week.” He flexed his enormous arms, and then crunched his abs, forcing his gut in. “Of course, I could always skip a year and then turn pro after graduation. Got the strength for it. Kinda turns me on to be too fucking huge for the wrestling team, you know?” And then he proceded to prove it by plowing my ass again.

Not From Phil Elkhorn’s Private Journal

Maurice came back to the frat house, scowling. Dammit, Tony and Rocco were barely putting in any effort, and they were fucking huge! He’d practically bankrupted himself buying HGH and steroids, and he was actually losing ground to them as they got even bigger! And they basically had a personal chef, now — that Phil guy. No wonder they were putting on weight, if they could eat like pigs at every meal.

And Ken, too, dammit. And now they were turning Phil into a monster, too. He could tell. Maybe Phil still looked small because he was hanging out with them, but he was growing like a dehydrated sponge soaking up water. In another few weeks, Phil would have him beat in every single measurement except height — and that wasn’t a good thing, as every competitor knows. He hadn’t even placed in a single competition in the last year. Damn this fucking plateau!

He needed to eat more, that’s what it was. Of course, he was already eating as much as he could stomach, but he had to find a way to force more down. He went to the kitchen, and rummaged around, piling a plate high with everything he could find.

What was that stuff up there? Some kind of candy? Eh, he didn’t need empty calories. Well, maybe just one.

He went back to his room with his plate, and ate, forcing himself to swallow it all, long after he had started to feel queasy.

Finally, there was nothing left but the candy. Feeling like Mr. Creosote, he belched, and then popped it into his mouth.

Geez, eating so much made him drowsy. He’d put the plate back later — he needed some sleep...

From Phil Elkhorn’s Private Journal

July 20:

This is seriously creepy.

All morning I was feeling bleary and out-of-sorts. Tripping over things, bumping into walls... just generally not feeling coordinated. I went to the gym this afternoon for a good workout, and there was a new guy there with Tony and Rocco and Ken. Except that they didn’t bother to introduce him, and he seemed to know me, which was just... creepy.

Of course, I knew he had to be another frat member — there was no way I had overlooked a guy that big, who was also a friend of my guys, which meant he had to be “changed”. And he really was big — bigger even than Ray. He had Ray’s height, but instead of Ray’s build, he had all the huge muscles of Tony or Rocco, but blown up even bigger to match his height. There was no way he could be like that by normal means, especially if he was hanging around with three other guys from the frat. So at least I had that much information.

Fortunately, Ken was there, looking disgruntled, so I pulled him aside — we actually went and found a storage room to make sure we couldn’t be overheard.

“Ken, do you remember the talk we had about people changing at the dorm? And how nobody but me seems to notice?”

“Huh? What do you... whoa, yeah, you did say something about that. But, wait, that was the night you—”

“Look, work with me here.” I swallowed. “For about a month, at least to me, when we’ve been coming to the gym in the afternoon or evening, it’s been you, me, Tony, and Rocco. Who’s that extra guy? I’ve never seen him before!”

Ken stared at me for a minute, and then laughed really hard and long. He finally stopped, and gave me a hug.

“Oh, man, this is too perfect. Really, it is. I thought I lost!”

“What? What’s been happening? Who is he?!”

“That’s Mori. He’s been bodybuilding since he was about 10, and he has a roomful of trophies already. If he’s ever entered a competition without winning it, I haven’t heard about it.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right, the way he looks.”

Ken smiled ruefully. “Yeah, he’s pretty good, all right. I’m lucky he’s not into football, or I’d have some serious competition there, too.”

“‘Too’? Where have you been competing with him?”

Ken blushed. “Well, now that you’ve reminded me, I know we’ve been dating for a while, but... I guess it’s part of Mori’s change... he actually started talking to you first, and I never really had much of a chance. I mean, Tony and Rocco and I sometimes, uh, join in, but...”

I sat down and put my hand on my forehead. “Shit. I don’t remember any of that. This is seriously fucked up.” A stray thought occurred to me. “Wait, which room does Mori have?”

“The corner one on the second floor, west of Juan and Chad.”

“West of Juan and Ch— oh, fuck, it’s Maurice!”

“What?”

“Maurice. He’s been issuing death threats for the last two weeks because I was starting to outgrow him thanks to working out with you guys.”

Ken guffawed. “Well, at least he doesn’t have to worry about that any more. You aren’t even done outgrowing Sanjay, yet.”

“Yeah... wait, what?”

“Well, you’ve got a bigger chest than he does, but I think he still has better arms, and—”

“Get me to a mirror, right now!”

We went into the locker room, and for the first time that day I got a good look at myself. I was huge! Well, still 5' 10½" to Ken’s nearly 7' and Mori’s more-than-7', but visibly bigger than ever in every other way. I swallowed. No wonder I was bumping into things — I was used to a few extra inches of clearance in all directions but up. “Wow. I know you don’t want to hear this, but being with Mori must have been better for my workouts than being with you. I wasn’t this big last night.”

Ken shrugged.

“So actually, everything was okay with me being with Mori. Well, that sucks.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Look, Ken, to me, we’ve been dating for a month. You’ve just remembered that, even though in some weird way it didn’t actually happen now.” Ken nodded. “Well, everyone else thinks I’ve been dating Mori, including the guy himself. And apparently he’s not a jerk any more. I’m going to have to break up with him, without even knowing anything about him, and he won’t even know why.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess that sucks.”

“Well, let’s get it over with.”

“Wait.”

I looked at Ken. “What?”

“I think you should tell him.”

“Huh?”

“Tell him about all this. If he believes you, at least he’ll know that if he’s losing you it’s not his fault, and if he doesn’t believe you, he’ll think you’re so crazy that he’ll want to get away from you anyway. And at least your conscience will be clear.”

“True. I’m glad you have such a philosophical turn of mind.”

We went back and pulled Mori away from Rocco and Tony, and took him to the storage room.

“Um. Mori, there’s, uh, something we need to tell you.”

Actually, as it turned out, getting Mori to understand was very easy. Apparently, in the changed world, it was Mori I had had the “the frat is changing” conversation with, not Ken. The only problem was that he was convinced, absolutely, that he had been changed first, and Ken had shown up today. But, as Ken pointed out, if I didn’t have any memories of being his boyfriend, it didn’t matter whether he was first or last in line.

“Well, then, I might as well introduce myself. Damn, this is weird. Here goes.” He coughed. “I’m Mori Zbrigniew. I’ve been dating you since about May 12th—” No wonder I was bigger with Mori; he’d had an extra month beyond Ken to train me properly. “—so it’s a little hard to decide what’s important to tell you and what isn’t. I, ah, I’m a competing amateur bodybuilder, but the only reason I’m not a pro yet is that I wanted to get through college first. I’m reasonably certain I could break into the pros easily.” I looked at his torso and nodded.

“My dad’s family is Russian and my mom’s family is Japanese, which you can imagine is an interesting combination, these days. Every time the Kurii Islands are in the news, my grandparents start yelling at each other, I don’t know why they care since the last relative to emigrate to the western hemisphere came over in 1904. Anyway, I get my body from Dad’s side of the family, and my hair and eyes and skin from Mom, I guess. I’m majoring in poli sci. I like Thai food. Um... there’s this thing Cyrus taught you to do in bed that I really like.” Ken nodded.

“Man, I’m so sorry, Mori. I don’t want to hurt you, but—”

He pulled me close and kissed me. “You’ll get to know me soon enough, Phil.”

“But—”

“Look, you two, you’re missing something basic. This gives us an incredible opportunity.”

“For what?”

Mori reached out with his other giant hand and pulled Ken in.

“Awesome threesomes.”

He winked, and Ken started laughing.

July 31:

This has been a really weird week and a half. And busy — too busy to update this journal, in fact.

I've kept up with the workouts, both the jogging and the weight training. And I've been working. And the morning shower session has basically extended itself to a nearly-frat-wide daily orgy; the only non-straight guys who don’t show up for it, now, are Tony, Rocco, Ken, and Mori... and I’ve been having sex parties with them every night. And Ken and Mori both insist on spending every minute they can with me — they seem to regard each other as “competition”.

When did my life become an episode of Techni Muyo? (Not that I’m complaining, mind you.)

It’s still a little spooky when Mori knows things about me, and I don’t know that he knows them. But I’m getting used to being around him. He’s right; we really are well-suited. (Not any moreso than me and Ken, but about the same.)

Flipping back through the previous entries, I did the math just now, and this last week I had an average of 10 orgasms per day. And I’m still horny, being around all these guys. Shouldn’t I be, you know, chafing myself to death or something?

Incidentally, the guys are still growing. Mori and Ray are 7' 6" now, and Ken is 7'1", with the Twins at 6' 8". And they’ve been training so hard that they’re even growing in proportions; Ken’s arms and chest look even bigger on him now than they did before, even allowing for height. And don’t even get me started on Tony, Rocco, and Mori — wow. Since I haven’t increased in height at all, I feel like I’m a dwarf most of the time, recently — until I go to work, and everyone else is tiny.

No further changes in the frat, as far as I have been able to tell. Then again, Ken and Mori have insisted on taking me out every night, and also on going to my apartment for sex, because they don’t trust each other enough to let us use either one of their rooms. (To say nothing of the fact that their singles are smaller than my big studio apartment. At the frat house, once the three of us are there, and Tony and Rocco cram in, there really isn’t enough room left to do anything.) I’m still a little worried; there are a few straight guys still living over there — even I make them look puny, now, so they must be feeling pretty uncomfortable. That means that if whatever-it-is-that’s-causing-the-changes is going to effect all of them, it’s still active. (Well, I knew that, anyway. Let’s not be overoptimistic about how all the guys are still growing.)

August 1:

Omer has passed me in height. His muscles are just plain ridiculous. (And, oh my god, sexy. I think his post-workout smell is getting stronger, too. If you could bottle it, it would probably be worth money as a gay aphrodisiac, just thinking about it just makes me hard.) He has decided not to bother with the team any more, he’s just going to build as much strength as he can over the next year. A pity — he looks incredible in his singlet.

The guys are all getting better-hung, too — I’m pretty sure that that wasn’t really happening before, but it sure is now. I’m kind of amazed that Ray hasn’t actually injured me yet, since he’s got to be packing a foot and a half at the very least. On the one hand, I like that in a partner — but between the muscles and the height and the cocks, I’m starting to get really jealous. (Of course, my arms are now nearly as big as Ken’s were when I met him, with other body parts likewise, so I can’t complain.)

I’ve found out that there are only 3 straight guys remaining in the frat: Cody, Achim, and Declan. Nobody has changed since Mori, nearly two weeks ago, and that’s the longest break so far — so maybe it’s all over? But then why is everyone still growing?

Not From Phil Elkhorn’s Private Journal

Cody unlocked the door and walked into the frat house. He was feeling let-down; last year the team had had exactly one really good batter, and he had graduated. He could tell from having watched three practice sessions that there wasn’t going to be a single good batter on the team at all, next year. He might as well give up on watching; they weren’t going to win anything.

Except that baseball was in his blood. He might not be able to play it any more, but growing up, baseball was the topic of conversation for 6 months out of the year — and a major recourse for conversation the rest of the time as well. It was how his father had bonded with him, it was what he played with his brothers, it was the obsession which filled his mind with trivia — when the other kids were obsessing over Pokeyman attacks, he was collecting baseball cards. His whole family was disappointed when his arm hadn’t healed properly, but at least he could keep watching — the college team. The Nemor Sands minor league team was pathetic, and he couldn’t afford to travel to watch major league games. Heck, he could barely afford the tickets to the games, all by themselves!

He sighed. What a waste of time — sitting out in this heat to watch a bunch of lousy players confirm that they were lousy. It was time for a glass of something cold. He pushed a glass into the ice-dispenser on the fridge door, and the vibration knocked something off the top — he just managed to catch it.

Candy? Huh. Since when did people leave candy around the frat house? Must be something special... maybe a candy equivalent to a pot brownie? After a day like today, he wouldn’t mind that... Pot, huh? Wasn’t there a drug dealer here? Kind of a moron? Adrian? No, Adrian was the skiier guy. One of the faggots.

Suddenly Cody remembered that someone had been telling him about faggots taking over the dorm. It was a pompous jackass; he had walked out of the kitchen... who was it? Was this just a dream he had had?

As he puzzled over the half-memories, he absent-mindedly opened the tub and put one of the candies in his mouth, then took a sip of lemonade. Hmmm. Not bad.

Mmmm. He seemed to have a touch of heatstroke... maybe a nap would clear that up...

From Phil Elkhorn’s Private Journal

August 2:

I knew it! Another change today.

Around 11 AM, we were in mid-orgy when the door at the other end of the team shower room opened. It was another case like Mori’s — everyone knew who he was except me, and he knew everyone including me, so it was a little awkward. Fortunately, there were so many guys there, and we weren’t exactly holding a conversation, so it wasn’t difficult to bluff my way through. Also, since I knew the three remaining names, I just kept an ear open when everyone was greeting him and found out he was Cody.

Cody is Chinese. I’ve never seen a Chinese bodybuilder in person before, so it was something of a new experience. Of course, he’s not really a bodybuilder, so I suppose technically I still haven’t. He’s built more like Juan or Ray than Rocco or Mori, but what with the way they’ve grown, that’s starting to be a case of looking like “a bodybuilder” instead of looking like “an insanely overdeveloped bodybuilder”. What I mean to say is: his muscles aren’t exaggeratedly developed. Except that they are, now, because all of the guys I hang around with from the frat are. Still, less so than the ones who are trying to build muscle size specifically. Does that make sense?

Anyway, he’s tall and extremely muscular. Doesn’t have a whole lot of body hair, and has a crew cut. I asked Ken and Mori about him, and they said he’s the unchallenged star of the baseball team, and basically the reason why our school won the championship last year. (I sort of recall hearing that our team wasn’t even close to getting into the finals, last year, so this is probably yet another real-life retcon.) The major league recruiters keep trying to get him to commit — but he says he’s holding out for a better guaranteed price. He’s been struck out exactly once since joining the team, and his stats are apparently amazing — since my eyes glaze over when people start talking about baseball, I can’t say exactly how significant things are, but apparently he hits as many home runs every three games as some major-league pros hit in a whole season, and even I can tell that’s pretty amazing.

He’s also hung pretty amazing, I can tell you. And gives amazing head. Apparently, he’s also got a love triangle going with Carlos and Ray. It was incredible to watch them piled up, Ray inside Cody and Cody inside Carlos, Ray reaching around with his giant arms to jack off Carlos while Cody and Carlos kissed. If I hadn’t already been balls-deep inside Adrian and working towards orgasm when the three of them did that, it would have given me an erection. On the other hand, apparently it’s not exactly an uncommon sight, so I may get that opportunity later.

August 6:

Just an update on measurements — my arms are now officially 24 inches around! I also am now the possessor of a 59" chest, which the Internet confirms is bigger than Arnold Shwatsenekkar in his prime — yay, me! What will Mom and Dad say when they see me for my birthday? (Actually, I’m going to be even bigger than this by then, I hope. I have a month and a half.)

Of course, Mori is now 7' 8", with the others following up proportionally, and they’ve all become so unfathomably huge it’s incredible, but I’ll settle for what I can get. Particularly if that includes Ken and Mori’s cocks — 31 inches in two equal parts. Wow!

Not From Phil Elkhorn’s Private Journal

Achim pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and pushed his way through the doors of the restaurant. Declan was already at a table, and waved to him.

“About what is this, Declan?”

“Look, something is happening at the frat.”

“Another orgy? They kept me awake all night last Friday. I lodged a complaint with Ray.”

“No, I mean in a more general sense. It’s hard to explain. Look, you remember when that guy tried to join, a couple of months back? He made dinner for us?”

“I remember the dinner. I do not remember the guy.”

Declan rolled his eyes. The idea that Achim would be aware of anything in the frat was a little ridiculous — he never joined in on anything. It wasn’t a language barrier, even though he was an exchange student. He spoke English almost flawlessly, and always had. The only thing he ever showed any enthusiasm for was a website in Germany — he had no interest in his classes, or sports, or girls, or anything. It was something of a mystery why he had bothered to join the frat, although Declan could half-remember that the frat had requested him to keep the average GPA up, somehow. (Of course, now the frat’s average GPA was 3.88 out of 4 — and, Declan was uncomfortably aware, would actually be somewhat higher without the two remaining straight members.)

“Look, we didn’t let the guy in, because he was gay.”

“Huh? That is stupid. Ray would never permit that.”

“No, it was true! And then something started happening. All the brothers have been turning into those big gay guys. Don’t you remember Adrian being a pothead, or Cyrus nearly flunking out?”

“Vaguely. So you say Adrian is not a pothead any more, and Cyrus is not flunking out?”

“Oh, come on. Haven’t you seen them lately? Adrian is this big Nordic jock, and Cyrus is like a black male model playing a pre-med student. They’re all totally different! Don’t you remember Raymond being a thin guy about my height? You must have met him on move-in day.”

“Ja, I... wait, Ray is... no, that cannot be right.”

“See? Something is happening to them — and we’re the only ones left! We have to do something!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know! Everyone else thinks this is how they’ve always been! Chad Wellington tried to warn me—”

“What, the butler?”

“He’s actually a frat brother, if you paid any attention. He used to just be... well, he was a stuck-up asshole, but he was normal. He told me he had checked around and all the college records show everyone being like, well, like they are now, all along! The only proof is that we still remember how things were before.”

“So maybe we are imagining things, ja?”

“Yeah, right! I joined this frat to impress women! Now they either assume I’m gay or tell me there’s no way I could be from Delta Sigma Chi because I’m too small!”

“Not my problem.”

Declan stared at Achim, who shrugged.

“In one month, I go back to Germany, and so this is not my problem. Look, I am not going to somehow ‘turn gay’. It does not happen. Nothing has happened to me yet, because in my room I stay all the time. You do that, too, and you will be fine.”

With that, he got up and walked out. Why did everyone insist on boring him so? There were things being posted all the time which he had to read!

He wandered back to the dorm, looking at his phone. He bumped into trees a couple of times because he wasn’t watching where he was going, and ended up going a block out of his way because he missed a turn.

He came in through the kitchen entrance, and almost immediately bumped into the tall cabinet next to the refrigerator. A box of cereal fell off the top of the cabinet onto the refrigerator. It flipped the mostly—empty plastic tub of candies up into the air. At the same time, a second box of cereal which had been wobbling tipped over, knocking the phone out of Achim’s hands. He fell to his knees trying to grab it, his mouth open to give a cry of surprise. Just then, the tub of candies landed, knocking its lid off. The sound of the impact drew Achim’s attention, and he looked up to see what was happening just in time for one of the candies to bounce out of the tub and fall directly into his mouth.

He almost spit it back out, but then he realized it was a candy. Not unlike some of the ones he used to get at home, actually! Pleased, he righted the tub and pushed the lid back down, and put the cereal boxes back in place.

He headed for his bedroom — it was always easier to read on the bigger screen of his computer than the phone, anyway. But when he got there, he felt strangely tired...

[tekuno]

Just a note: I will post the final part of this story, either later tonight or sometime tomorrow. If CMiller's replacement forum goes up before I get around to it — he has said that things are "moving fast" so for all I know it's a possibility — then the last part will go up over there instead. (Watch this space!)

(I also plan to re-post any and all of my stories in the new forum which do not violate the new forum's Terms of Service, whatever they may end up saying, so if anyone still wants to read my old work, it will all be there.)