A great new story in which a centurion, Marcus, and five of his best men are transformed by the god Mars—and charged with a mission.
Next to enter the water was Aedan, who wasted no time in approaching his Centurion and began sucking on the engorged nipples on his massive pecs. They pointed out and downwards, and were like small cocks in their shape. To reach them, however, Aedan had to hold himself up on Marcus’ superhuman arms, as his pecs were above Aedan’s head. The water in the pool was now shining brightly in reflection of Marcus’ golden light, with the cum swirling around in it beginning to accumulate around Marcus’ body. Sextus, who was slowly stroking his own massive boner as he watched the muscle worship, was only mildly shocked to see the cum being absorbed by Marcus’ lower half, within minutes, the water was clear and all the assorted man seed that had been in it had seeped into Marcus. With a groan, the centurion suddenly bounced his pecs, causing the much smaller man to fall off into the water.
Marcus closed his eyes, and threw his head back. He uttered a low, guttural moan, and his golden glow from his metallic skin intensified, as he grew taller and taller, stretching out to be nearly ten feet tall, with his head brushing the top of the cave. On his new, bigger frame, his pecs once again grew rapidly, becoming nearly two feet away from his chest, being rock hard with nipples even more like cocks, but now bigger than most normal men’s cocks. His abs, which before had been a twelve pack, was now a fourteen pack, but they were still incredibly tightly packed onto his torso, with each being the size of large bricks. The valley down the middle was several inches deep, and had a lighter dusting of dark hair, leading in a treasure trail down to his package, where there was still only a dusting of hair.
Marcus took his cock in his new bigger hands, yet had trouble encircling it completely, as it was now more like a temple column than a fence post. It had been dangling just inches short of his knees on his new lengthened legs, but as it began to get hard, it stretched past them, and in gravity defying motion, pointed straight upwards, nestling between his pecs. Realising he could fulfil his self-suck fantasy, the centurion bent his head down to his massive pecs, not made easier by his thick neck, and took the head, which was a deeper gold than the rest of him, and spurting gold precum like Mars’ had been. The head was noticeably thicker than the rest of his cock, being larger than his head had been before his transformation. Revelling in his new ability, Marcus leaned against the wall of the cave and ran his hands all over his swollen muscles, and began to fondle his nipples. He paid no attention to any of his men, who were all crouched by the edge of the pool, stroking their own large erections, as they watched their God’s chosen Hero worship himself.
Marcus could feel his heavy balls, the size of boulders in their straining sack, churning and producing more of his godcum. Exploring his godly body, now comparable to what Mars had been, he felt himself approaching climax. His cock began to throb, and as his balls pulled up tight to the base of his cock, it began pumping hard into his mouth, with boiling hot godcum. At the same time, under the fondling of his manly hands, Marcus’ nipples also began shooting golden cum, with increasing force. His men watched on as they saw his adam’s apple bob as Marcus swallowed the golden nectar. They all reached orgasm themselves, and the cave was filled with the man juice, of which only Marcus’ was gold, the rest still white, but being pumped at pressures that chipped rock from the cave walls. The noise of the six men in the throes of passion reverberated around the cave, which shook with the sound, and the water in the pool began to ripple.
Then, the two twins, Castor and Pollux, cocks still dripping with their own cum, climbed into the pool, which was now warm, from Marcus’ body heat and the boiling semen that had entered it, and began to worship their officer’s body. Marcus sat down and leaned back against the ledge at the back of the water, and let his two men run their hands all over him. They licked each of his armpits, his musky god-like smell quickly bringing them back to erection. Then, the twins each took one of Marcus’ nipples, and began to suck sensually on them, and then deep throat. They were hard and erect just like cocks, and whilst their tongues probed the cum slits, their hands roamed across the pecs of the centurion, which were the size of paving slabs.
Whilst the twin studs sucked his nipples, Lucius, who had been masturbating constantly, approached Marcus, and began to massage his god cock, which was nearly the size of Lucius’ arm. Under this attention, it quickly began to get hard again, and soon Lucius was worshipping a vertical tower of solid man meat. Sextus, who had been making out with Aedan, at this point came over and being the only one tall enough, lowered himself onto the Centurion’s cock, stretching his ass as wide as it would go. It filled him completely, and Marcus was balls deep in his optio. Swivelling on the column of the cock, Sextus turned to face Marcus’ face, who reached out with his colossal arms and began to move the slightly smaller man up and down at increasing speed. As the Centurion’s whole body began to shake, the others were dislodged and slipped into the water. Neither of the officers noticed, they were so lost in their own approaching orgasms. A deep rumble built up in the cave, and it became clear to the men that it was coming from Marcus’ body. His balls, colossal and dangling low in the water, were churning cum, and swelling up. The golden glow of the centurion’s body intensified, and with an earth-shaking yell, Marcus exploded into Sextus. They could all see as the optio’s body pulsed as the cock that filled him completely pumped more of the godcum into his system.
After several spurts, Sextus’ body went limp and Marcus lifted him off his cock, which was only slightly less hard. Marcus got up and laid down his junior officer on the side of the pool, where he soon came to, with gold cum dripping out of his asshole and running down his legs. The centurion, with an increase in his light, began to diminish in size, reverting back to what he had been after Mars’ first conversion, before his god had penetrated his willing ass.. As the glow faded, Marcus, now at his 7ft4 height and still massive musculature, climbed out of the pool, and began to dry himself off with his bedroll.
Turning to his men, including Sextus, who had now sat up after his most intense orgasm ever, Marcus said in his deep, masculine voice: “I guess we should probably clean up before we go out to meet that patrol… but none of us have any clothes that will fit us now… And I’m strangely not hungry—guess tha’ts one of the other gifts we were given.”
However, as Marcus was speaking, the light that had filled the cave from Mars’ spear once again began to surround their bodies, and when it faded, they were all wearing standard army gear—yet tailored to their unique sizes. Marcus, in his centurion’s helmet, noticed he was now wearing the heavy red cape, which was practically the size of a ship’s sail and yet still did not reach the ground. Looking at his bedroll, he realised, despite it being damp and covered in cum, and being a foot shorter than his new height, that it might still be useful, although he guessed sleep wasn’t one of the things he needed any more—his divine mission provided all the sustenance he needed, aside from his new hunger for his men’s enhanced cum and the need to cum himself. Still slightly horny, he quashed his libido and deliberately kept his hands from adjusting his thick, but flaccid, cock in his new underclothes, which, whilst, tailored, were flatteringly tight on his package, pushing it out in a visible bulge even through his large-size tunic.
“Aedan?” he called out to the lean native.
“Yes sir?” he replied, whilst simultaneously stuffing his new, bigger than average cock back under his tunic.
“I know Mars subconsciously into this cave, but can you remember the way back?”
“Actually, there’s a small tunnel just under the water sir, it leads out to the hillside, Mars left that in my head—but I’m thinking we might not fit any more…”
Marcus wasn’t overly concerned by this. Going to the far wall of the cave, behind the edge of the pool, he concentrated and grew slightly taller, to about 7ft 8, and with it his muscles swelled—but his clothing did not break. He then punched with a single blow to the wall, just at his chest height, and the others threw their arms up to protect themselves as chips of rock went flying everywhere. The light of the setting sun now shone into the cave, along with several tonnes of dirt that had tumbled in through the massive opening the centurion had made in the rock, with a single punch from his powerful muscles. The stone fragments hadn’t hurt him at all, just bouncing off his rock hard skin and muscles.
“I think I might try that with my cock next time, that would be really satisfying.” Marcus, distracted in his fantasy, had begun to climb outside, but stopped when Sextus called out his name.
“You’re still massively fucking tall, you’ll scare anyone out there to death. And you’re also glowing gold—not that I don’t like it sir, but well…”
“Good point Sextus, thinking about it you and the twins could also do with some temporary reductions…”
Marcus went over and laid his hands on each of the twins massive shoulders, then did the same to Sextus. All four of them began to shine with Mars’ power, and shrunk slightly. Sextus was now 6ft 5, yet not as lean as he had been before, and the twins, whilst staying roughly six foot, seemed to deflate and lose some of their extraordinary musculature, putting them in believable human shapes. Marcus was now back to his original tanned skin tone, still the tallest of the lot at 6’ 6”, but was equal to Sextus in size. Inspecting Lucius and Aedan, he decided they weren’t as in need of reduction as the other men had been, having not been transformed to such massive levels.
“I promise I’ll turn you all back once we’re south of the wall, after that normal people won’t be able to see us properly. And we really have to go, I think time may have slipped away from us in this cave—it was only just dawn when we first got here, but now its dusk—and I’m not even sure this is the same day. We’ve been in here hours—though they were the best of my life so far,” Marcus said with a smile, as he turned and exited the underground space.
The group made their way down the twilight hillside, towards the bottom of the valley, at a fairly fast speed, not having any concern to slipping due to their improved balance. Approaching a clearing in the wooded valley, Aedan, who had slipped in front, reported to the rest of them that there was a fire and camp site up ahead. Marcus called a halt, and sent Aedan off to get a better view. He was back almost immediately, benefiting from Mars’ gifts of speed and silence.
“It’s only the patrol—they’ve got extra horses, so they’re obviously expecting us.”
Marcus led his unit into the clearing, to the obvious shock of the men there. He approached the central camp fire, where the leader of the patrol, despite his astonishment at the size of the men approaching him, got up and performed the standard Roman salute.
“Centurion Marcus Flavius, reporting sir.”
“By the gods, centurion, it is good to see you” replied the junior officer leading the patrol of five men. “But I’m sure we’d have been told about your size… you’re all so big… But I thought your mission was undercover—and where’s your captive?”
“Well private… I’m not sure if i can explain this but we don’t have a captive and…” As he was speaking, Marcus had gripped the smaller man, at about 5ft7, by his undeveloped shoulder, and a thin beam of light had travelled out from his fingers. The officer’s eyes glazed over and glowed with the light, but after a moment he was back to himself. None of his men had noticed, but Marcus’ group were all aware of what had happened and looked towards their centurion.
The officer suddenly picked up his words, halfway through a sentence: “A captive? I don’t know where I got that idea from, there’s not meant to be a captive, and of course we were told you were all so massive and muscular, that’s why we brought strong horses…”
That evening, after the patrol had all gone off to sleep, with his unit on watch duty, Marcus relaxed his massive frame against a sturdy beech tree. Unlike his last watch shift, Marcus restrained himself from getting his cock out, thinking that whatever wool he had pulled over the junior officer’s eyes might not extend to not seeing gigantic, boiling puddles of his golden, boiling cum. But it was a hard battle, what with his balls seemingly retaining the cum-producing abilities from when they were bigger than the boulder that the twins were currently arm wrestling over. He could feel them swelling, the god cum in them being the source of his divine strength and abilities, like being able to change his size, and many others he realised he still hadn’t discovered. From what he understood, Marcus knew he could change his own size, and could absorb cum into his body to use as fuel for this.
He knew that he could grow to 10 ft, but he was interested to know if this was his limit, or how big he could really take it. He could barely imagine his own strength, if he could be 15ft tall, probably move mountains, what with his muscles being so dense, they were stronger than they looked, and they looked fucking strong. Against his best attempts, his mind also wandered to how big his cock would be if he doubled his height… But before his cock got too hard in this fantasy (that could be real), Marcus distracted himself. He knew he didn’t need sleep, and that even after his series of days in the cave fucking without a break, he wasn’t tired in the least, suggesting his stamina was beyond human, and he didn’t need to eat.. From what Mars had said, he assumed that he would age much more slowly, and being so dense with muscle, he doubted he could be hurt easily. Moving on to how he could influence other people, he remembered how he had changed the sizes of Sextus and Castor and Pollux. However, he didn’t think those changes would be permanent, as it had been the God’s direct power that had enhanced them. But he thought he could also work this on ordinary people, not necessarily only by touch.
To test this, he looked over to where the junior officer was sleeping. He was only about 22, not many years younger than Marcus himself, but was nowhere near the size he had been at that age, before his enhancement. Marcus realised he could see the shape of the man’s body, through his bed roll, and could tell his weight and strength. Without waking him, Marcus willed the man’s biceps to grow and gain about 3 inches, and for his abs to gain some definition. He watched with delight, as he could see from the one arm the man had outside his roll, had thickened visibly. He knew he was meant to recruit men to the Army of Light, but this man wasn’t what he was looking for, he realised. Marcus just had a gut feeling on this, but he knew when he found the suitable men for the cause, he wouldn’t just transform them with his mind, they’d have to take in the godcum that was being made in his balls, his gift from Mars. As optio, Sextus had this ability too, but without the ass fucking from Mars, his cum, not golden, wouldn’t be as potent as his. Marcus looked forward to being able to share his muscle and strength with willing men for his army. Presumably, their enhancement would be determined by whether they just got to suck his cock, or whether he blessed them with his golden cum in their asses, which would only get hotter and sexier as he fucked them. Realising once again his mind had given into his insatiable sex drive, Marcus decided he would at least try to sleep, even if he didn’t necessarily need it.
He woke at dawn, before any of the other men had risen. He acknowledged Sextus, who was the only one also awake, on watch. His gifts from Mars were most similar to Marcus’, and the centurion assumed Sextus’ didn’t need as much sleep as Lucius, Aedan, Castor or Pollux, who were less transformed. Sextus beckoned him over, and motioned that they should walk up the hill. Knowing this meant the optio wanted to talk to him alone, Marcus woke one of the patrol men, and told him to keep watch. Then, he accompanied the Celt up the hill, to where a ridge at the top gave sweeping views across the wilds of Caledonia.
“The tribes’ camp was busy last night,” Sextus commented. “I could see them from up here, even though they’re several miles away. Must be another of the gifts… but anyway, I think that one of the other demons created by the one that Mars killed, might have passed through last night. Its like an instinct, but I think it was heading North… Without its brother, it will be weaker, and it might be about a month before it can perform the ritual and turn more of these warriors into creatures like it. if it gets among the tribes, there could be a massive army waiting for us.”
“I somehow feel that we have to let that happen,” Marcus replied. “Mars emphasised that we had to go through the Empire, recruiting the best men to the Army, and chasing out the other demons. They may only be two, but together, they will be stronger than this solitary one. I feel if we stay here, and try to fight this one, we may be giving the other two too much of a headstart—and it Mars did say there will be the final battle here, in a year. The night when they are strongest was the night Mars was going to be sacrificed, so we have just under a year to do this—but we are much faster now, and I’m sure Mars will be guiding us.”
The two officers returned down the hill, where they found the men engaged in making breakfast. Aedan had procured several fish, and a bucket of water was warming over the fire. The junior officer, apparently unaware of the enhancements Marcus had made to him during the night, was drinking out of a water skin and consulting his map.
Marcus walked over to him, admiring his new beefier arms.
“So when do we ride out today?”
The man replied “I intend to leave within half an hour, we can pack up and be ready to go fairly soon. It will take us just under a day to get back to the wall, especially if we don’t have to lead riderless horses. Gosh, this water has an odd taste—have you drank it? I filled it up from the stream just over there, it runs down from inside the hills, I hope none of the men have drunk it, if its gone stagnant or something…”
Marcus exchanged a look with Sextus, who glanced into the bucket warming over the fire. He could see it had a slight gold tint to it. He nodded at Marcus, who quickly reassured the officer that the water tasted like that anyway, and all of his men had drank it without any effects. Looking around the camp site, he saw that most of the patrol had also drank the water with its added ingredient. It may be dilute, but he imagined it might still have some qualities. He went over to where he had left his pack, and was interested to see that on his bed roll, the shape of an arrow was glowing in the same light that Mars had used. Checking the sun, he realised it was pointing south. Marcus guessed this meant Mars was telling him he was right to prioritise the other two demons over the one that had headed North. He quickly showed it to Sextus, as the men got ready to depart.
As they rode south, Marcus deliberately kept his horse towards the back of the group. He carefully looked at the men of the patrol, and observed that over the course of the morning, each of them was probably about an inch taller, and from what he could tell with his sense of seeing beneath the clothes, to have gained about 20 pounds of muscle. None of the group had noticed, but he saw Sextus making the same conclusions as he did.The growth continued throughout the journey, which was as uneventful as when they had travelled North, and seemed to increase just after when they stopped for lunch, when the men quenched their thirsts with their waterskins, still filled from the stream.
Marcus began to recognise the landscape as they neared the wall, and with his improved sight, he could see it sooner than most people. They arrived back at the gate mid afternoon, faster than either the junior officer or apparently the sentries on the wall were expecting. Marcus expected it might have something to do with the fact that all of the men were now less tired, and perhaps the horses had also drunk from the stream.
Once they had returned to the fort, he dismissed the men to go to collect any of their belongings from their old quarters, and he and Sextus went to find Commander Gaius. They found him inside the headquarters, in his usual angry temper, but when he saw them he turned oddly calm.
“Centurion, Optio—I trust your mission was successful? I got new orders regarding you and your little group from down South, it seems you have been summoned by someone very high up indeed. And may I see the captive?” However, as he asked this, Gaius’ eyes glazed over, and he suddenly forgot what he had asked. Marcus hadn’t even touched him, and he assumed Mars was playing a direct part here. With a confused look on his face, the commander turned back to the centurion and asked him
“Are you new here? I don’t recognise you, are you the ones who came up here with these new orders?” The commander pointed to a scroll of paper lying on the table, which Marcus could see had a soft, golden glow about them.
“Yes sir, and now you’ve got them, we have to go straight away again. Good job you’re doing up here, and that tribe gathering isn’t going to be a problem. I’m sure we’ll meet again, I will return to this part of the world soon.”
Gesturing to Sextus, he then lead him out to their quarters, leaving Gaius even more confused, as he had already forgotten he had talked to them, and why he wasn’t shouting at one of the camp clerks.
His group of six men gathered at the south gate, with just a few possessions in their packs. Roman soldiers tended not to have much, and what they did have was small, so it could be carried on a march. Marcus reflected, how, just a few days ago, these same men had gathered at the north gate, not knowing how much their lives would change. With the sun setting, he lead his group of men out onto the road, without horses for the moment. As he had promised, as soon as they were out of sight of the sentries in the fort, he returned Sextus and the twins to their former sizes. Seeing them grow, thanks to his touch, aroused Marcus intensely, and when he resized himself, to what he regarded as his natural height—7ft 6, with his massively heavy strong body, his cock was rock hard and straining in his clothes. He ignored it for now, and he and his men began to run, at a fast pace, despite their heavy equipment, down the long, straight, moonlit road, and away to their mission.
The stars overhead twinkled on the gloom as Marcus and his men made their way down the track along the edge of the river. It had been just a week since they’d set out from Hadrian’s Wall, and they had achieved speeds unknown to man before—Marcus was still being blown away by the power contained in his and his men’s muscles. They’d ran in synchrony for a full night and the following day after setting out from Hadrian’s Wall, along the straight, flat roads built by the Army criss-crossing Britain. They’d reached the legionary fortress at Eboracum during the evening that day. Marcus had made sure that himself, Sextus, Castor and Pollux were within normal size, and he dimmed down his own skin tone from the shining gold to his original olive, and did the same for the twins, who, whilst they didn’t shine, still had a metallic, bronzed look to their bodies which was godly. Aedan still managed to source the food they consumed, though this wasn’t much. He’d run off ahead, sometimes joined by Lucius, and they would hunt together with slings, or sometimes be able to avoid the use of weapons altogether and fall on the prey so fast it didn’t have time to escape. Marcus noticed in his pack, which he had collected from his quarters back at the fort, a large pouch of silver denarii had appeared, presumably from Mars. He assumed it was for hiring rooms and transport should they need it, although he expected that as soldiers, they might well be able to stay in the fort.
Despite the fact they were no longer serving in the regular Army, Marcus and his men managed to secure accommodation in one of the barracks blocks at the fort, as they hadn’t been stopped at the gate, and when they had reported to the camp prefect, another of the glowing scrolls, similar to the one Commander Gaius had had back at the wall, was present in his study. However, as they weren’t expected, Marcus and Sextus were not able to be housed in officers’ housing. The six of them were allocated to the pair of rooms at the end of the barracks block, which normally housed eight men, with a set of four bunk beds in the rear room and cooking facilities in the front living space. It was a luxury for the unit, who might have been transformed, were still tired after spending nearly 24 hours in constant exercise, and a week before that north of the wall, sleeping only when they could. However, with all of their increased size, Sextus thought it best that the men didn’t occupy the top bunks, which after all, were made of old wood and meant for average legionaries. Sextus and Marcus volunteered themselves to sleep in the living room, on the futon and couch around the hearth—the smaller men needed the sleep more. As their unit slept, the two officers relaxed by the fire, listening to the sounds of the camp around them, which they hadn’t heard for a long time.
Marcus looked over at the optio, as he stared into the fire. He admired his new strong jaw line, still covered with his soft ginger stubble, in contrast with his pale skin. His head was held by a thick and powerful neck leading up from broad shoulders, which, even in his reduced size, were still large and rounded. Even though Sextus was wearing his under-tunic, Marcus could use his new sense to see through it, and he admired the globes of his pecs, so similar to his own, with a deep crevice between them. Below that were his abs, which were rock hard and cobbled, and were arranged in an eight pack, with the extra ridges only re-appearing when he gained height and size. Marcus decided to look beyond Sextus’ groin and down at his long, powerful legs, which belonged more on a horserider, being so thick and vascular, with massive thighs. His feet were long too, and Sextus would never again fit in ordinary sandals. Unwilling to delay any longer, he looked at his optio’s package, and was pleased to see it was still over-developed and bulging. The red hair was here too, a light dusting of it, just like in his armpits, and the cock lay over the top of the swollen balls.
At this point, Marcus felt a hunger inside of him, but not for food, for his optio, for Sextus’ cum. He knew it was the only food he needed, and it was all he wanted at the moment. He stood up and undressed, throwing his tunic and underclothes over the back of the couch. Sextus looked over at him, and seemed to know what was coming next. He too got up, and allowed the taller man to remove his clothes, letting out a gasp as Marcus’ tongue went into his armpit, lapping up his musky scent. The centurion threw the naked man down on the floor and began to passionately kiss his face, whilst at the same time running his hands down the optio’s arms and developed chest. Marcus got on his hands and knees and straddled Sextus, their long cocks between them, and their massive pecs almost touching.
As his massive cock dribbled precum onto Sextus’ chest below, Marcus used his powers to make the smaller man’s muscles swell bigger, and caused his balls to enlarge. As a result, Sextus was almost becoming musclebound, as his height hadn’t changed, but now his arms were being pushed from his sides by his spreading lats, and his legs were being pushed apart by what was between them. Only his face and cock had any movement, and the latter was pressing up against Marcus’ with more strength as it got longer and thicker than his own. Marcus finally stopped Sextus’ growth, at the point where the pecs beneath him were holding him up instead of Marcus’ arms to either side of him. But once again Marcus’ hunger grew, after this use of his power, so he got off from on top of the muscle creature below him and began to stroke his thick cock and run a hand over the swollen ball sack which was churning cum. Sextus groaned sensually, and his cock dribbled pre cum.
Marcus took the massive head, which was only just smaller than Mars’ had been, in his own mouth, for which he had to grow himself an extra foot in height so that his head increased proportionally. As he attempted to take more of the shaft, which was nearly the lenght of his arm, he helped the optio to his feet, and then crouched down so that he had a better angle. Marcus was able to manipulate his throat, and took the entire cock into his mouth. His nose was amongst the red hairs in Sextus’ crotch, and the massive ballsack pressed against Marcus’ pecs. Sextus, with some difficulty, ran his hand over his centurion’s body, and Marcus reached up, having to grow his arms to reach the optio’s nipples on the bottom of his globular pecs, which he tweaked and massaged. A shudder ran through the Celt’s body, and Marcus could feel the cock inside him thicken and pulse, as spurts of the hot cum were pumped into him. Sextus’ balls pulled up tight against gravity, and he unloaded in increasing torrents down Marcus’ throat.
Sextus groaned loudly, so loudly that Marcus was concerned that people next door would be woken up, but his worry was pushed out of his head as he could taste the manseed inside him, as he pulled the softening cock from his mouth. He stood up, at 8 feet, cramped in the small room, having grown to take Sextus’ cock, and he used his control to reduce Sextus’ muscle size down to what he was close to before, but still with added mass. Marcus felt energised as the cum of one of his men, also transformed by Mars was absorbed into his body, and he knew he could be even stronger than before. He was dying to test his limits, but the room was too small for this, and he didn’t want to wake any of the soldiers. He was about to shrink himself back down to a human size, but Sextus took Marcus’ cock, which wasn’t quite erect, in his own hands and began to run his hands all over it. He looked up at the officer, and mouthed a silent request for Marcus to get even bigger. Marcus let himself revert to what he thought of his basic state, with his golden skin tone, but kept his height at 8ft.
He sat down on the couch, having to spread his legs, and increased his height again, so his head was brushing the ceiling, and his feet were pushing up against the far wall. However, his muscles had not grown along with his frame, and so to counter this, Marcus let his muscles swell up slowly, starting with his legs and arms. They inflated to an incredible size—his legs were bigger than the columns in the headquarters of the camp, and had detailed definition. His forearms also grew, gaining a circumference bigger than most men’s biceps, and his upper arms became phenomenal, his triceps and biceps combining to be further around than his waist had been at 8ft tall. His shoulders became even more rounded and massive, nearly the size of his biceps. This growth continued to spread, as next his glutes pushed Marcus up off the couch, being big but on a slender waist and tougher than concrete. On his chest, Marcus’ pecs pushed further and further out, and his nipples reverted to their cock like state, dribbling golden precum. His abs rippled and multiplied, bieng so tightly packed his abdomen looked like an intricate mosaic. Marcus shifted slightly, as his obliques and deltoids widened out. His cock and balls swelled up, reaching the proportion they had been in the cave.
Sextus, in awe of the centurion’s power, took the erect cock, taller than he was, and began to pull it down so he could put his lips to the cum slit. He had to exert himself, and Marcus watched his biceps strain, as the cock was rock hard and desperate to remain perfectly vertical. He lapped at the dripping liquid, but with sweat beading on his forehead. His veins stood out on his arms, and as he managed to get his mouth over where the liquid was flowing, it began to get pumped into his body. Marcus was feeling his intense need to cum, as base a desire in his body, as basic as breathing, or eating—in a normal person at least. Marcus’ eyes rolled back in his head, as he groaned deeply, his golden light shining intensely. Sextus, wrestling to keep the cock at face level, opened his mouth as far as it could go, and let the golden cum spurt all over his face, and swallowed it down into his system. He felt energised, and suddenly it was a lot less of a struggle to hold the column of god-cock, as his muscles were filled with new strength, though they remained the same size.
Marcus, recovering from his intense orgasm, was still completely erect, saw that Sextus could also be sustained by his cum. With his long arms, Marcus angled his cock down at his own mouth, with the thick shaft nestling between his pecs. He took the head into his mouth, and let his cock grow further so that it was pushing right against the back of his throat. Then, he let Sextus stroke the veiny column in long touches up and down, whilst he used his own hands to fondle at his nipples, which hadn’t cum in his previous orgasm. Pressing down on his pecs, a side at a time, released a flow of golden precum, which he collected and smeared over Sextus’ body, as the smaller man had climbed onto Marcus’ lap to better service the giant cock. Whilst sucking himself off, Marcus almost subconsciously willed that his nipple cum would make Sextus grow, and as he oiled the optio up, he was aroused by the sight of his nipple precum being absorbed into Sextus’ pale, native skin. His muscles swelled slowly, not to the size they were before, but having an incredible level of vascular definition. The smaller man, noticing his growth, climbed off Marcus’ thick thigh, lay down on the rug on the floor, half way under the couch which Marcus was sitting on, and caressed Marcus’ swollen balls from below, feeling the giant sack, churning the golden cum.
Marcus could feel the enhanced strength in Sextus’ arms, and was approaching his second orgasm of the night. He began to jerk off his nipple cocks at a faster speed yet, and his cock pulsed in his mouth. Sextus felt the gigantic ballsack above clench and start pumping its divine load up the column of man flesh. Marcus tasted his boiling hot cum as it hit the back of his mouth, with the force of a battering ram. He gulped it down, as it spurted from his cockhead. His nipples began to spray golden cum all over the room with the same intensity, and Sextus, having gotten up off the floor, put his mouth to the left one and swallowed it down. Marcus caught the spray from the right one in his hand and smeared it over his own body, particularly his abs, which tightened and became more defined. After several minutes of cumming from both his nipples and his cock, Marcus finally stopped, relaxing his body. Sextus, swollen with the muscles enhanced by the nipple cum, sat down on the other futon, stepping over the long legs of the centurion. Having satisfied his sex drive, Marcus reduced his size, down to the manageable 6ft 7, with proportional musculature—proportional for Marcus, that is, so still packed with incredible strength and mass. He and Sextus settled down for the night, having put on their clothes—Marcus chose not to reduce Sextus, but the clothes, provided by Mars, seemed to shift with the divine light to fit whatever size they were.
The next day, the rest of his men well-rested despite the sexual actions taking place in the room next door, Marcus led his men out in the regulation march rhythm along the south road. He sent Aedan out ahead, with the intent of seeking out the two demons that had travelled south, with a handful of coins, so that he could rent a room for them when they caught up with him. Watching the slight figure running off faster than a human had any right to be, Marcus pondered where they would find the target of their search. A few days of their one year had been used up, but Marcus was impressed with their progress. Over the next three days, they travelled nearly the length of the province of Britain, reaching the capital Londinium approaching midnight. Aedan was waiting in the main forum for them, and he directed them all to the lodgings he’d secured with the money, just overlooking the river, next to the city walls. Unlike their last stop, Marcus decided that he would sleep for what was left of the night, as they had jogged faster than the time before. Now he was in the capital, he decided to reign in his libido and get the mission properly on the go.
It was 13 days since Marcus and his men had been transformed, and they had been in the biggest town in Britannia, Londinium, for just one morning. Marcus sat downstairs in the main room of the small inn that Aedan had booked them into, eating the pastry meal that the innkeep had prepared as part of their lunch. He was listening to Aedan, who was describing what he had heard about the two demons they were hunting, as he had been gathering information in the town for the past twelve hours, whilst the others had slept in through the morning.
“The watchmen on the gates said two men in dark capes came through early in the morning three days ago. He said they were both bald men, with tattoos, in their mid-forties. I tried to follow their steps—a slave outside the baths saw them pass, a fish merchant by the river saw them that afternoon but no one has seen them since that evening. I think they might be down in one of the warehouses on the wharves by the river—that would make sense—the sea is too rough to cross at this time of the year, so there’s not that much shipping coming in, and the warehouses are empty.”
The native paused, looking either side at the other customers. He lowered his voice, and bent across the table to Marcus and Sextus.
“And tonight, it’s a new moon—I think they might be trying to do a conversion. Lucius is out looking for people who might go missing, so the demons can use their blood, and also they’ll want strong hosts, with ideal bodies—I’m going to go and ask around at the army camp and the amphitheatre, in case any of them have been approached with money to go with this ritual.”
“Thank you Aedan,” Marcus dismissed the scout. He exchanged a look with his optio, and considered how they would plan their attack. Also, they had yet to forge weapons capable of killing the demons, so they would have to find an armoury. Marcus downed the last of his wine from the wooden goblet, and the two of them went outside to the courtyard of the inn, where the two twins were training with their swords against each other. Castor and Pollux had attracted quite a crowd, equal parts men and women, who wanted to see these identical studs darting about with speed in their sleeveless tunics without their armour on. But when they saw their officers emerge from the building, they came over, and the crowd began to disperse, with the effect Mars’ described taking place. The spectators were visibly confused as to why they had been there, and could no longer remember the two identical twins they had seen, as neither Castor nor Pollux had said anything to them, nor wanted to be remembered.
Sextus summarised what Aedan had said to the two men, and informed them that they were now going to equip themselves with the right weapons for the job. Marcus had decided that they should attack at dusk, and had set Aedan to locating which warehouse it was, and returning to them just before the sun set. From both of them he had taken their preferred weapons—the dagger from Aedan and the spear from Lucius, and intended to transform them into the demon killing equipment along with his, Sextus’ and the twins’ swords.
The centurion led the way along the busy streets, through the markets thronged with people from all over the Empire. Despite the winter temperatures, the sun was shining, and a great many people were still out and browsing. Seeing the sign of a blacksmith’s shop, he lead the other three in, and looked around in the gloom to find the owner.
Out of the rear room emerged a youth of about 20, who was built heavily, with strong arms and a decent chest—incomparable to the four soldiers but large for any civilian. He looked the four men up and down and seemed blown away by their size, and seemed to be incredibly shocked at their arrival.
“My master is at home ill, I’m the slave here, I run it whilst he isn’t here,” the young man stuttered and seemed to draw shaky breaths, “but I know you from somewhere… Did Mars send you? He spoke to me in a dream last night, and I woke up with this on my bed.” He directed their attention to a glowing scroll on the anvil.
Sextus spoke to calm the slave down. “It is a great honour to be spoken to by a God, and Mars did send you. We are looking to improve our weapons—we are not sure how but imagine you can help us?”
The slave, still intimidated by the physical bulk of the incredibly large men, which filled the small space of the shop, unrolled the scroll and read out to them: “Heat the weapons up until they glow, then immerse them in a bucket one part water, one part seed and one part golden seed—but I don’t get what this seed is… or why its golden? That’s not how we’d normally make a sword, what are you trying to do?”
Marcus ignored the questions for now, and told the slave to get the fire ready. He asked the twins to help with the bellows, their immense strength made the task much faster. He took a bucket hanging on a hook near his face down and filled it from the water trough in the street. He returned inside, to find the other three men awaiting with excitement on their faces, but the slave was staring into the fire. He’d taken the first of the metal spear heads, and pulled it off the wooden shaft. WIth deft hands inside the tough leather heat-resisting gloves, he placed the tip on the shelf in the furnace, and gestured to the twins to continue with the bellows. Marcus watched on, admiring, as the slave showed his trade.
“So what are you called? And where are you from?” he asked when the slave seemed to pause and wait slightly.
“My name is Neall, I’m from across the water, over in Hibernia. I came here when a slaver ship raided our hill fort, 7 years ago.”
“Did you not want to go back?” Marcus asked, as Neall still kept his face away.
“My family is mostly dead, killed in the raid. And I was never properly accepted in my tribe anyway, I didn’t fit in. But anyway, have you got that bucket ready or what?
Marcus turned back to the rest of the men. He could see with his sense of looking through clothes that both the twins and Sextus were steadily getting harder underneath their tunics. Soon they were all erecting noticeable tents, and Neall noticed this when he turned back, asking again for the bucket.
Marcus adjusted himself, seeing the young man’s shock. “You know what to do, soldiers, and that’s an order from me.”
The twins pulled off each others’ tunics, leaving them there only in their sandals, their cocks seemingly having ripped their underclothes apart. Their cocks, identical and large, were head to head at each other, being only inches from each other. Castor reached out and rubbed his brother’s rock hard pec, circling the nipple, and Pollux rubbed both of their cocks with his own hands. Their cocks were dribbling precum, and Neall, who had at first been astonished, now held himself up against the wall of the room, staring intensely at the show in front of him.
Sextus and Marcus both took off their tunics, and began jacking their own cocks. They were both large and hard, with veins bulging all the way round, and being nearly as large as the tongs Neall had been using for the flames. Marcus physically had to wrestle his boner down, to point towards the bucket. The twins had given up on touching each other, and joined him in a circle around the bucket. Sextus walked over, his cock bobbing in the air before him. They all began to jack their cocks with both hands, none of them being able to fully encircle their thick erections. Neall had sat down on the stool, and Marcus looked to see a wet spot in his rough tunic.
After a couple of minutes, Sextus exploded downwards, with white cum spurting from his long cock, splashing into the bucket. This set the twins off, whose heartbeats were in synchrony, as were their ejaculations. White cum swirled in the water, and steam rose off the boiling hot man seed. Marcus reached his own orgasm, and his unique god cum, golden in colour, joined the mixture in the bucket. As the others tailed off, Marcus’ cock continued to throb and spurt, and with his other hand he reached up and fondled his nipples, which were long and dark. Gold cum poured out from these as well, meaning Marcus was spurting just as much cum as the rest were combined. A fair amount missed the bucket, and collected in puddles on the floor. As the boners in the room began to go soft, the men all got their tunics back on, and Marcus picked up the bucket and put it down by the furnace.
Neall, who had only just come to his senses, seemed to not acknowledge the oddness of what had just happened, took the spear head out of the fire and dipped it in the liquid. Steam rose, and he put it down on the floor. Then, he took the other weapons and repeated it, so after half an hour, in which none of them spoke, just watched the skilled slave, all six weapons were drying on the ground. Eventually, Neall turned back from the furnace, and picked up Marcus’ sword, and handed it t him. As he took it, it flared up with a brilliant light, and glowed with the same power that had been used to transform them in the cave.The other men all picked up their own weapons, and the room was brightened with the light. Neall barely seemed shocked at all any more, and seemed to be almost in a trance.
Marcus and Sextus turned aside from the others, and the centurion said to his optio: “I have a feeling about this man. I think we’re meant to recruit him, and he can make our weapons—he’s got a good body already.”
Sextus agreed, and they turned back to the slave.
“We have an offer for you, Neall, which we hope you’ll take. We can release you from your master, make him forget about you, and you can join our group. You can probably guess we’ve been sent by Mars, and we can share his power with you, but it does give you responsibilities, and you do have to drink our cum.”
Neall seemed to come awake at this, out of his trance like astonishment, and nodded slowly.
“Yes, I do want this. I want to be bigger and stronger, and I want to serve Mars. And I would like to be free—but how will you release me? My master isn’t here.”
Sextus answered “Once you join us, normal people forget you exist—your master will forget he ever owned you, and won’t report you as a runaway.”
“So then yes, I want this, sir, will you let me? May I?”
Marcus, in reply, simply took off his tunic again, and his cock grew hard, and reached horizontal, swollen and churning. He turned his skin back to golden, and let his glow shine out. He flexed his arms, and bounced his pecs. Neall walked over slowly, and without having to bend down, took the head of the cock in his mouth. It had yet to reach the erectness where it was nestling between Marcus’ pecs, which were above the slave’s head. As Neall’s lips slurped around the dribbling cum slit, Marcus ran his hands over his own body, arousing himself further. Neall reached out with his burly arms, sweaty from forging the weapons and taut with decent muscle, and ran his hands along the cock in front of him, which was near equal to his arms in size. Precum was smeared across his face, glowing gold and reflecting the glow from Marcus’ body.
As it slipped down the slave’s throat, Neall’s body began to ripple. First his height, at an average 5ft 6, stretched and lengthened, reaching 6ft 5, and his tunic simply ripped, as his shoulders tore through the sides as they broadened out to three feet and a half wide. However, his waist narrowed slightly, becoming tight, and his apollo’s belt became defined and ridged. Neall’s legs thickened with muscle, tendons bulging and his thighs almost doubling in circumference. His arms, despite being large already, swelled up, matching the size of his legs only moments before. His pecs bulged outwards as Neall suckled cum out of the tower of man flesh before him. Marcus put his hands over the smaller man’s, and used them to pump his cock, faster and faster, until he let out a yell that shook the metal chains hanging from the ceiling and his cock throbbed with bigger and stronger pulses. Neall’s cheeks bulged outwards, as the golden cum filled up his insides. The cum infused his muscles with power to grow.
An eight pack formed itself out of Neall’s toned stomach, as ridges and canyons inches deep formed on his abdomen. His nipples became long and pointed, and the areolae darkened and were the size of coins. Lastly, Neall’s cock and balls swelled with size at an incredible speed. His balls churned and tripled in size, hanging low on his slightly hairy thighs. His cock had reached vertical and was spewing his cum between his mounds of pecs, being nearly as thick as his wrist, and as long as his fore-arm.
Marcus reached down and sucked the last of the cum spurting from his own cock, as Neall took stock of his new body. He flexed his thunderous arms, and bounced his meaty pecs. He wasn’t that shocked when the divine light began to shine out of him, and his new uniform materialised. It was only slightly different from the other men’s, having various tools hanging from the belt, including a hammer, tongs and a trowel. Marcus handed him a sword, fresh from the forge, and he plunged it into the overflowing bucket of cum. Withdrawing it, it shone with the unearthly light. Neall sheathed it in the leather scabbard hanging from his belt, and turned to his centurion.
Marcus looked outside and noticed the darkening skies. The days were short this deep in winter. He got his men to return to the inn, to await the report of Aedan. It was about half an hour before total dusk that the scout returned, and was ato Neall. Lucius had returned whilst the others had been at the forge, and had been doing a series of press ups in the main courtyard for several hours now, and whilst not being tired, his arms had an incredible pump. Marcus distributed the weapons, and let Sextus tell the men of the plan.
“Aedan has told us that this ware house in particular is built into the side of the bank—just the one opening, on to the river, where the cargo is loaded in and out. However, there are some windows along this one side, high up, just under the roof. The plan is going to be: Lucius and Aedan, you climb up tot hose windows, and give us the signal when it is good to go in. Stay and guard them, and be ready to jump in. Me, Sextus and Neall will go in and go for the demons, Castor and Pollux, guard the doors, but go for the victims—they’re likely to be unconscious so put them to the side of the wall and keep watch. If this goes wrong, just improvise.”
Barely a minute later, they were all in position. Marcus waited, prayed to Mars for a spot of luck, and stretched his legs. He put his shoulder to the door, watched Sextus do the same, and they listened for Aedan or Lucius’ signal. The night was silent, with just the lapping of the water as it flowed past a couple of metres away. Suddenly a low whistle cut through the still air. Marcus’ keenly developed senses picked it out, and with a nod at Sextus, they barged the doors. The momentum carried Marcus several feet inside the dimly lit warehouse before he could stop and as his eyes adapted to the gloom, he saw a simple table in the middle of the cavernous space. On it lay the naked, still figure of an immensely fat man, whilst around it drifted five people in hooded robes. The one furthest to the right was drinking from a silver chalice, whilst the first two were handing identical cups to the remaining pair.
At the sight of the intruders, they all threw back their hoods and leapt back. Marcus drew his sword, and heard the rasp as both Sextus and Neall did the same. Castor and Pollux stood across the doorway, their bulk blocking the entire opening. The flickering firelight from the mounted lamp on the wall illuminated the purple carapace of the demons’ heads. The three figures who had been drinking were still human—a short, stocky looking man who had been furthest on the right and had drunk the most blood, an older man with a much scarred face and finally, most surprisingly, a youngish woman with long blonde hair that tumbled out of the hood. The two original demons threw themselves over the makeshift altar with astonishing speed at the Romans.
The three humans lurched to the ground and started convulsing. However, Marcus was distracted from the juddering flesh by the screech and slashing of the demons and their sharp scimitars that whipped out of their robes. Marcus went for the left, leaving Sextus and Neall to take the other. He met each of the blows with his sword, pushing the figure a head shorter than him back with each clash. However, he let down his guard briefly when there was a sharp pain to his right calf, even with his incredible muscle density. Marcus looked down, to see that the woman was scuttling about on the floor, with a demon jaw replacing the lower half of her face. This jaw was firmly embedded in his slightly glowing flesh, and Marcus was alarmed to see he was bleeding, the golden blood of the gods Mars had gifted him. Waving his sword hand, about fighting off the demon whilst brushing down behind his back with his left hand, trying to dislodge the woman half creature. Marcus managed to do both for a few moments, but when the short stocky man, now with apparently spider legs ending in sharp claws, threw himself on Marcus’ back, he fell to his knees. The original demon let out a savage cry, and with inhuman ability, breathed out some sort of vapour, barrelled straight through Castor and Pollux, who had been taking on the scarred demon convert in the doorway. They fell backwards and rolled on the dirt, coughing and spluttering. The scarred man they had been attacking followed his master.
Marcus was pleased to hear, whilst fending off both the woman and stocky man demon, the slap of feet as Aedan and Lucius pursued them. Marcus swung his sword around onto the demon on his back, and felt it squirm, whilst it’s legs encircling him just gripped tighter. The woman demon had released his leg, and was rising to her feet, her head nearly all consumed by the demon skull, with the last of her blonde hair falling out. Marcus took advantage of the brief respite from the pain to use his power to grow, and his height shot up to 10 feet in the blink of an eye, with his torso broadening so rapidly and his muscles swelling with such size that the spider demon that had been attempting to crush his ribcage instead had its legs snapped off. It fell back, legs crumbling around it. Marcus looked down at it, and with deliberate intent, crushed it as it scuttled about like a real spider. The new demon squealed and fell apart into ash. Picking up what had formerly been the woman, Marcus slammed the purple headed demon on to the floor, and as it lay stunned, he picked up his sword from where it had fallen. In his new size, it looked like a toy, but he was still able to use it, glowing with his godly power, to separate the carapace from the robed torso. The body crumbled and the particles scattered in the slight breeze from the open door.
Sextus and Neall had forced the remaining demon, one of the originals, to its knees, and had bound its hands, with claw-like protrusions. It whipped its head about, snarling, with a black tongue slithering in and out of the exoskeleton. Marcus squatted, so that its head was level with his massive chest, filling out his metal cuirass, that could adapt with his growth, having been given by Mars. Marcus spoke with the voice of Mars, commanding and powerful, and no one in the warehouse could look away.
“Where has your brethren fled to, demon?”
The prisoner did not answer, but its eyes rolled in their sockets, and it shook back and forth. It attempted to breath out the same vapour that the other demon had used on Castor and Pollux, but Marcus was unaffected. He repeated the question.
“They have gone to lands of great power, where we can be strong.” A rasping voice issued from the cowed figure. “But we will not fall to you, the servants of Light. My brother in the North is raising an army, and you do not have time to fight him and the rest of us. He is too strong, and you will not beat him when the great battle comes. Chaos will reign, humanity will perish, and the earth shall become our dark domain.”
Then the demon let out a piercing shriek, and whilst its mouth was open, exposing its dark red lining, Marcus was shocked to see it begin to decompose and rot. Maggots ripped through the flesh and robe at incredible speed, and the head rotted down to the bone in seconds, and this too crumbled to dust. All that was left was a small pile of dust and ash, with a particularly fat, juicy white maggot wriggling around on top. Marcus was astonished by the suicide of his prisoner, he was still and agog for a few minutes. He processed what the demon had said—lands of great power? He needed guidance on this—he was snapped out of his thoughts when Sextus drew his attention to the corpse on the table. He straightened up, his head nearly brushing the rafters. Realising this was not convenient, Marcus reduced himself down to his 6ft7 body, with the muscle of a champion gladiator. Before he had fully finished transforming, he was over and inspecting the body of the fat man.
“They tapped the blood from his heart to fill their challises—but I don’t think they killed him by this.” Sextus lifted the head upwards—”See, here, there’s an impact wound—someone bludgeoned him and that killed him—then the demons found him presumably. They weren’t strong enough to kill him before—they had to have someone else’s kill.”
“But once they’d had his blood, they were much stronger,” Marcus was thinking aloud, “and those ones that got away must have had the most, the scarred man transformed the fastest, and the master demon was definitely the strongest. They can only convert others when the night is auspicious—I assume it must be some sort of festival today, I have lost track of the date.”
“It’s the new moon tonight, the full moon is on midwinter, in two weeks…” Neall realised the importance of what he was saying as he said it—“They will be very strong on that date, that’s the night when spirits come back to roam the land of the living and the borders between this world and others are weak—or so my grandmother always said.”
Suddenly, Lucius and Aedan ran gasping into the warehouse. They panted for a bit, Lucius trying to gabble some words out.
“Slow down, we can’t understand.” Sextus leaned a hand on Lucius’ shoulder. “What is it?”
“We chased them both, down all the way to the docks and beyond. We lost them briefly, we thought they had got on a boat—but they were actually stealing horses form the inn—we chased as long as we could down the road, but along the river, they drove the horses into the water and swam for a boat anchored out in the middle. It was ready to sail—it’s going out to sea.”
“They were ready for this—they knew we might be coming, just not when,” Sextus said. “They must be moving on to those lands of power—we need to get across to Gaul as soon as possible.”
“But its winter, no captain would sail in this season,” Neall pointed out. But Marcus gestured at him to stop him talking. He’d had an idea—they didn’t need to rely on the wind—they had enough power of their own…
The sun was just cresting the horizon, when it shone onto the docks of London. Skiffs and warships bobbed in the quays, moving with the flow of the river. Marcus approached a medium size ship, which would normally carry grain across the channel. It’s mast was half gone, having splintered making the last crossing of the season during a winter storm. Oars dangled out of the sides, worn and sea-battered. From the quay, he climbed on board the deck and shouted for the captain. A dark haired man climbed out from the under deck. He was slim, tall, with a Middle-Eastern complexion, and incredibly handsome, Marcus realised with a jolt. He didn’t look like the sort to crew a merchant ship, and seemed mismatched with the drizzly surroundings of a British morning.
“I’m the captain, sir, but I’m not sailing now. You need to come back in spring—I got repairs to make.”
“My name is Marcus, and for our journey, we don’t need that mast repaired. We can pay you well for it, and it will definitely be a quick crossing.”
“I’m Siphes, nice to meet you, but regardless of how you pay—I cannot sail. I have no crew, they have all gone home for the winter, and we need the wind to cross the sea.”
“I can supply the crew, and we can row the entire way—we are in a hurry. You shouldn’t doubt us, Siphes: we have our own means.” To illustrate his point at this moment, Marcus casually flexed his bicep as he rubbed his other arm. Whilst he was currently at a height of 6ft3, so as not to attract too much attention, his arms were still significantly out of proportion. He watched as the captain’s eyes widened, and he visibly had a tent in his tunic. Smiling, Marcus arranged for his men to come aboard at midday, ready to sail across the Channel. He left Siphes with a wet spot over the head of his cock, and returned to the tavern where the men were having breakfast.He beckoned, and they all followed him into the back room, where he shut the door and turned the latch.
“Men, we have a long row ahead of us, and we all need to be fit and ready, with enough energy and stamina. Guess how we’re going to get it!” With his control, he increased the height of everyone present to 6ft4, and made sure their musculature was all even, with particular development in the arms, with huge, hulking biceps, ready to pull the oars, and toughened hands to protect against splinters. They all looked enough alike now that they could all pass as brothers, despite their different complexions.
Marcus surveyed his team of nigh-on identical muscle men, and felt his balls churn with his arousal. Knowing each of them felt exactly the same, he removed his tunic, and displayed his rippling torso, which he had yet to transform in line with the others. Standing a height of 6ft 6, his cock reached several feet up his body, nestling between his luscious pecs. He increased the size of his balls, letting them swell with his cum, and churn low against his knees. His men all removed their clothes, and approached. Each of the twins took a nipple, and sucked with fervour on the cock-like protrusions from his rounded plates of armour-like muscle. Marcus lay back on the floor, feeling his adoring men feel and stroke each part of his hyper-masculine body. His cock stood vertical, and Sextus was running his hands over it. Aedan, Lucius and Neall were massaging his balls, and his felt himself ready to cum. He slowly pushed everyone off him, and as the first spurt of golden seed emerged in a boiling hot blast, he let each of his men suck from it, taking their fill. The ones not waiting for his cock sucked on his nipples, where the flow was only slightly reduced, due to the nipples not being as large as his leg thick boner.
The godcum infused their bodies with new energy, increased strength and enhanced libido. Marcus, his mind in the throes of orgasm, enjoyed the sight of his soldiers cumming just the feeling of power that was within them. He increased the size of their balls, he could see six pairs of identically sized balls dangling low between six pairs of legs, churning with the cum he had given them. The testosterone would build their muscle and keep them going on the long trip. When all had taken their fill, Marcus sat up, took the head of his cock in his mouth, and drank until he had finished cumming. As his men re-clothed, he changed his physique to match theirs, and as a unit of similar men, they processed out, through the tavern, and down to the docks.
A couple of hours later, the ship was plunging through the cold waves of the Channel. From the underdeck, six narrow oars extended and moved in synchrony, pulled by six overmuscled men, sweating in the cramped space. A single lantern illuminated the roiling masses of muscle, as cannonball shoulders rolled and massive peaks on biceps flexed. Marcus strode around the deck, following Siphes’ commands as he adjusted the wheel. The wind roared along the deck, setting anything not secured flapping loose. Marcus was grateful of his size, currently at seven and a half feet, that he was tall enough to adjust the sail himself. His woolen cloak hung heavily round his neck, sodden with water, but he was confident he couldn’t catch a chill, as any illness in his body would have to take on the golden blood, and cum, of the gods. Siphes, however, was visibly shivering, despite it being the middle of the day, as the winter sun was too weak to permeate through the leaden clouds. The merchant had seemingly gone into some sort of trance, not questioning Marcus’ contingent of identical muscle men as they came aboard, nor how they had the strength to row in these conditions. He certainly hadn’t reacted when Marcus had grown his height a little, once they were out in the Channel, off the river. However, he still was in control of the ship, purely through force of habit, and his hands deftly spun the wheel and navigated towards the Gaulish coast.
When Marcus judged that there was no immediate need for him on deck, he headed below, for the solitary cabin where the men had left all their personal belongings. This served as Siphes’ room onboard, as his normal crew would sleep in hammocks strung from the beams in the hold, surrounded by the cargo. He cast off his cloak and knelt by the side of the bed, and dipped his head in prayer. The Centurion recognised now that his mission was just beginning in earnest. He knew, that for all the enhanced skill of Aedan as a tracker, catching up with the continent would be a struggle, and he knew he needed divine assistance from now on. He reflected that he hadn’t actually prayed since he’d encountered Mars, which he found almost ironic in a way. Out of habit, Marcus first acknowledged Jupiter and Juno, but then spoke directly to Mars.
“Oh my lord commander, guide me in this task you have assigned me. Through your strength and power, let me conquer these demons.” As he spoke, Marcus felt a warmth well up inside of him, and his cock rose, hard and throbbing between his mammoth pecs. The hem of his tunic rode on the base, and he felt the divine presence intensify his arousal. The centurion took the head in his mouth and drank his own sweet, nourishing godcum, and felt the power of a blessing from his god. He drank gallons of it, flowing up from his swollen balls and through his godcock, into his mouth and then into his body, where it dispersed to his muscles. Whilst Marcus had conscious control over his size, he was constantly increasing in strength as a natural bodily function, as the godcum infused his muscles with density and power. After this session, he felt as if he could lift the ship over his head, and knew he probably could, and at this rate of growth of his strength, could lift it fully loaded within a few days. As the flow of the golden liquid tailed off, Marcus’ cock softened slightly, and he manhandled it downwards, so it wasnot obstructing his view.
He stood up, and crossed to the table near the centre of the cabin, ducking low to avoid the swinging lamp. He glanced over the map spread out on it, before realising he was still incredibly horny, and found it impossible to concentrate. Noticing a mirror in the corner, Marcus loosened his belt and pulled his tunic off over his head. Kicking off his sandals, he stood before the mirror completely naked, and admired his god-given body. Even when he was in a more human form, his skin had a glow to it, and his whole body pulsed with power. Marcus firstly examined his face in the mirror, bending down to do so, being slightly too tall for it. His face remained fairly similar to what it had been before his transformation—or at least, he could still see his old self in it. His dark, curled hair fell in a short fringe across hi forehead, and his eyes had a smokey, seductive look to them. Hi nose was a perfect Roman nose, and his mouth was sensuously shaped. He had a sudden desire to kiss himself in the mirror, but restrained it. He had more prominent cheekbones, and a squarer jaw, emphasising his manly, rugged look with a stubbled beard, more than a five o clock shadow but not bushy. His neck and shoulders were bulky and thick, bristling with power. His shoulders were several feet apart, he cut an imposing figure in most clothing. They were large and rounded, like cannonballs sitting at the top of his arms, which themselves contained immense power. His upper arms hung out from his sides, thicker than a normal man’s leg, with heavy biceps and triceps, and a long, snaking vein bulging out from the muscle, all the way down his thick forearm. Marcus slowly flexed one arm, then the other, admiring the swelling of the double-headed bicep, with incredible definition. When flexed, the height of his bicep was equal to his ears.
Marcus then turned his gaze to his massive pecs. They loomed large on his chest, projecting out by a foot or so, with the individual fibres visible. His nipples hung low off the underside, thick and dark. Below sat his incredibly carved abs, a 8 pack of the hardest, densest muscle. Down the middle trench, a dusting of his fine dark hair led down to his well-endowed crotch. Looking past, he saw his thick thighs and defined calves. But unable to delay any longer, he returned his focus to his favourite assets, no matter what his size. His balls hung low, full and rounded. Slight hair covered, but they were swollen and churning with the godcum. Over the top rested his flaccid cock, reaching his knees. In its soft state, it was thick and dense still, but marginally softer than when he was aroused. It swung heavily as he shifted, gently touching his thighs either side. Marcus felt the cum drops left on the head of his penis brush up against his inner legs and he felt himself become aroused once again. His cock rose and rose, and finished at twice its previous thickness, even longer, and poking through between his pecs below his mouth. Once again, Marcus went to suck, but as he did so, the ship rolled violently to one side, then the other. His keen hearing picked out the sound of Siphes, calling his name from the deck, and he suddenly realised he had spent far too long down here, admiring his body. Barely pausing to pick up his cloak, he burst out the door and climbed to the deck, where the clouds roiled above and the wind ripped across the ship. At the wheel, Siphes staggered and pulled, desperately trying to regain control. From below, he heard Sextus calling out a rhythm to his fellow oarsmen, and Marcus was not concerned on that front.
He sprinted to the helm, and assisted the merchant in stopping the wheel spinning madly. This storm had risen out of nowhere, and Siphes looked exhausted, on the point of collapse. As Marcus set the ship to take a straight course through the rolling waves, he took Siphes to his chest, in an attempt to share his body heat. The man seemed ill, and now delirious. Marcus, whilst his mind was on controlling the ship, directed the captain’s head towards the head of his godcock, and encouraged him to suck. He released copious amounts of his godcum, and he physically felt the smaller man warm as the divine seed spread through him. Siphes visibly regained energy, and straightened out. He stood taller, and broader, but Marcus couldn’t let himself get distracted too much. Once Siphes seemed to be capable, he took back over control, his newly thickened arms no longer struggling against the spinning of the wheel. Marcus stood back, and discarded his soaking cape to stand naked in the torrential rain. He hadn’t thought he would recruit Siphes, but realised that it was always going to happen. His gut feeling had improved towards the merchant as they had sailed further. He looked forward to when he could complete the conversion, and the rest of his men could join in.
That night, the men drew the ship up in a quiet, small bay along the Gaulish coast, away from the main ports. With ropes, the men using intense strength, tugged the large cargo vessel far up onto the beach. After the storm, it was no longer in a good condition, but to the man watching from the treeline the men appeared not to care, and had built a fire. The observer, satisfied with what he had seen, stood up silently, and ran to find the man in his village who had promised him a bag of silver for him to watch for large men to arrive along the coast. However, he failed to notice, as he scurried by the light of the moon along a goat trail, that he had been noticed by one of the men, who silently followed him.
As the sun rose over the little cove, Marcus quietly shook each of his men awake. He had already hidden the remains of their fire from last night, and buckled on his armour and his sword to his belt. As the men were beginning to re-board the ship, Aedan crested the rise, silhouetted against the rising sun. Within seconds, he had swiftly climbed aboard and reported directly to Marcus.
“We were watched last night, by a man from the local village. The demons passed through there, and until last night, were staying in the tavern—they offered a purse of silver for information on us. I tracked him back, and he met them under a tree in a field. But as soon as he’d told them, they killed him and drained his blood. They threw his body in the stream and then mounted their horses and rode off. I ran for as long as I could after them—they’re going South East, and their horses are fresh and fast. They didn’t know I was there but they knew we’d be coming after them.”
Marcus listened, troubled by Aedan’s report. He spread Siphes’ map across the deck, and surveyed the region of Gaul. The roads led towards Parisius, and further than that, back to Italia or to the south, to the port of Massilia. He no longer knew entirely where their adversaries were heading, aside from the “lands of power”. But for now, Marcus knew he had a chance to hang on to the trail, as long as they kept moving.
Marcus beckoned Siphes over, and appreciated the sight of the Middle-Eastern stud strutting towards him across the deck. He was by no means as large as any of his men, not having undergone a full recruitment, but he was stripped to the waist, his tightly cut chest glowing with his natural tan. He asked the captain if he would want to join their group.
“I would love to, but I’m of more use to you on the sea. Also, I can’t leave my ship, she is my livelihood and the most precious thing I own. I will sail into a proper port, get her repaired, but I’ll be here for when you need to return to Britannia, or if you need to sail, send word and I will arrive as fast as I can.”
Marcus was stunned, but realised Siphes’ suggestion made more sense—undoubtedly they’d need transport, and their own ship would be of value, especially as he recruited more men. Before they separated, however, he knew what he wanted to do.
With an incredible speed, Marcus had removed his uniform and stood naked in the cold morning air. His cock, which had barely been soft since his transformation, rose and nestled between his bulging pecs, solid and thick. Siphes slowly approached, removing what little clothing he had on, and revealing the rest of his body to be significantly above average. His own cock, nearly eight inches long and of considerable girth, was slapping against his washboard abs. Not wanting to delay any longer, Marcus buried his tongue in the captain’s mouth and ran his hands along the strong body. His golden precum dripped over both of them, and with incredible strength, he held the smaller man up against the mast, lifted his legs and rammed his god-cock home and pistoned away. Siphes moaned in ecstasy and orgasmed continuously, his cock spraying mancum across the ship. The other men had stopped to watch, and were nursing boners of their own.
Marcus approached cumming, and his entire body tensed. Boiling godcum spurted up from his swollen balls and along his raging godcock. It blasted into Siphes, and it pumped him larger and larger, his height increasing and his muscles building upon muscles. His definition was phenomenal yet he still had remarkable size, as his pecs became luscious and his dark, engorged nipples faced downwards on the undersides. His arms thickened, biceps and triceps pushing out, against his widening lats. Siphes’ six pack became a marble-hewn eight pack, and his legs doubled in size, being more comparable to tree trunks than the lean limbs they’d been before. His cock, still spurting, pulsed larger and longer, reaching a foot long, then 18 inches, being out of proportion still with his stud body. His balls swelled and dropped lower, swinging against Marcus’ own pair. Siphes’ face became more manly and rugged, as his transformation came to a conclusion.
Marcus put the newly enhanced sailor back on the deck, and stepped back to admire the changes. Siphes slowly flexed each of his new muscles, and stroked his semi-hard cock, still recovering from the most intense orgasm of his life. As with the others, a uniform materialised around him, the body armour sculpted to match the contours of his muscles beneath. The red cape flowed down from his broad soldiers, and Siphes stood proud, a massively enhanced figure. Marcus reclothed, and led his men off the ship. As they left the cove, he turned back and waved to Siphes, who single-handedly had pushed the ship back further into the waves, and had rigged a makeshift sail to get him into the nearest port, only a few miles away.
Later that day, Aedan had guided the men to the village, and from there onto the road he’d been the night before. It was a fairly busy road, with trade to and from the port passing in both directions. They were many travellers on foot, but none comparable to the group of soldiers who strode head and shoulders above the others, Marcus had not returned them to their individual sizes, and so all of them walked at the same pace, and made fast progress, with no need to take breaks. However, due to Mars’ anonymity effect, they passed unnoticed and unremarked upon.
When they arrived at Parisius, they settled into a tavern, with Marcus securing them the largest room with his seemingly regenerating pouch of money. In the privacy of the small room, which whilst confined, was not uncomfortable for these men so intimately comfortable with each other, Marcus used his powers to return them to their individual physiques, no longer the specialised rowers’ body shapes. They relaxed, after a punishing journey, and enjoyed each other’s company until they could get back to their mission in the morning.
Marcus groaned in despair as yet another lead turned out to be a wild goose chase. He stalked away from the wine shopkeeper, as the man’s eyes began to glze over as he forgot the centurion stud. They had been in Parisius for three days now, desperately trying to track the two demons across Gaul. Yet the trail had turned cold, and not even Aedan’s divinely enhanced tracking abilities had been able to follow them. There seemed to have been so many pairs of hooded figures across the town, Marcus suspected some were deliberate decoys. The two demons seemed to have gone to extreme lengths to hide their tracks, and every moment they wasted here they would get further away.
Rejoining his unit at the same tavern he had bought them a room in, he shared his concerns with Sextus after their standard greeting, a passionate kiss and the Roman handshake, gripping (and groping) the other’s thick and muscled forearm. Marcus was quickly running out of ideas, and he did not want to seek help off Mars again, as he had explicitly said he was prevented from helping too much. This had to be a mortal response, and Marcus needed to make use of his new gifts.
Sextus had been studying the map whilst he was out, and the other men either slept or sword-trained in the yard off the back of the inn. As part of Mars’ gift to them, it was incredibly accurate, and changed with the weather and conditions of the sea. Also, since Siphes had been recruited, a small, illustrated ship had appeared on the map, currently in the port on the Gaulish coast. Swirls of wind blown by Zephyr on the far west were keeping it in harbour, making it impossible to escape. Sextus had carefully marked their journey so far, recording how long it had taken them—and how far they could go in the year before they must return to the Wall and fight the great battle. To the South-west, he had marked Rome, and further south was Aegyptus. It was here he pointed as he said to Marcus:
“I have a feeling they might have travelled here—they are seeking lands of power, and we know Aegyptus has its dark secrets—the different gods and the pyramids, there is a lot of power there.”
Marcus was inclined to agree, but he couldn’t imagine the distance involved. It could take them far too long to get there and back. Evidently, the thought had crossed Sextus’ mind, and he knew they needed to probably visit Rome as well, because it was the centre of the Empire. Entire legions were based in the city, potentially ready for either the demonic conversion or recruitment into Mars’ army. There was no easy way to do this. Should he split the group? If he led one half to Rome, and Sextus to Aegyptus, they could cover twice the distance, but they functioned best as a team. Abruptly, Marcus stood up from where he had been sat on the bunk, and walked back out into the city, bidding farewell to Sextus.
He crossed through the busy town, over the river and up the mound to the Temple of Mars. It was not a large building, for this was not a large town, but it was well looked-after. Entering into the inner sanctum, unnoticed by either the priests or devotees, he approached the statue of the God on the far wall. As be began to kneel down before it, he noticed instead a small wooden door in the corner, which seemed out of place with the impressive stone throughout the rest of the building. Bending down, he entered into a small stairwell, leading down in a spiral in complete darkness, yet this was not a problem for Marcus. Reaching the bottom, many metres below the floor of the temple, his eyes adjusted and he saw he was in a cavern stretching out in all directions. He was immediately reminded of the small cave he had been converted in, yet this one had obviously seen some design. A simple stone altar had been set up, roughly in the middle, resting on top was a bowl.
Marcus picked his way across the uneven floor, to examine it. It was more of a dish, made of stone, as if awaiting the blood of a sacrifice. Marcus knew Mars did not want blood, so instead began to shed his uniform. His cape fluttered to the ground, followed by his cuirass, belt and tunic. In minutes, Marcus stood naked, burnished skin glowing gold and illuminating the cave. From his ‘standard’ height, he began to grow taller, each of his limbs lengthening and his torso stretching. His extra two sets of abs formed, completing his ten pack, as his shoulders broadened to maintain his v-shape. His waist widened only slightly, but his head was now nearing the roof of the cavern, a full fifteen feet high. His brown curls rubbed up against the craggy rock, and as his height stabilised, Marcus began to run his hands over his muscles, letting each increase in size with his power.
Crossing his arms, he rubbed the biceps and triceps, loving the feeling as they swelled with power. He did the same to his forearms and shoulders, his quads and calves. He rubbed and flexed his pecs, as they inflated and striated. On their undersides, his nipples lengthened and thickened, and the golden precum began to form at their tips. He ran his hands down the ridges of his abs, and obliques. Marcus knew, although his pecs blocked his view, that each was perfectly formed, defined and symmetrical. Behind him, his muscle ass clenched and became stronger. His balls swelled and dropped, brushing his calves and they became full with godcum. His cock, having thickened and stretched over his balls, began to get erect, and rise hard, to the cleft between his pecs. Gripping it with both hands, Marcus began to jerk off, with increasing vigour. He ran his hands along the shaft, veiny and solid, as he felts his balls churn. As he stroked, he flexed each of his muscles, and flexed his pecs as they massaged the upper part of his godcock. Moaning in pleasure, he steadied himself with one arm against the ceiling of the cavern, knocking off a few stalactites as he did so. He fell to one knee, and directed his godcock with considerable strength from his arm, towards the now minute bowl on the altar that barely reached up his legs.
Manhandling it down, the head was aimed right at the bowl and with one hand pumping his cock and the other fondling his nipple, Marcus came with an earthshaking yell, and out of his cock blasted godcum, boiling hot and glowing gold, into the bowl. Simultaneously, his nipples began to pump out their cum, the gold streams spraying wildly as his body jerked in orgasmic throes. Despite his cock, spurting godcum, aiming all over the cave, the cum was drawn to the bowl, which quickly filled. The boiling cum overtopped and flowed down the sides of the bowl and the altar, and eventually the entire stone plinth was covered gold. As his orgasm subsided, and Marcus’ cock had returned from the vertical to a still hard, yet downward pointing position, the godcum was being absorbed into the stone. Mars was accepting his offering, and as Marcus returned to his feet, the golden glow in the cave from Marcus’ skin was replaced by the divine glow of a god materialising in the cave with him. However, Marcus did not recognise the outline of the male figure emerging out of the glare, but accordingly sank to his knees out of respect.
“Marcus, I am Apollo. Mars has received your offering and is deeply satisfied, yet he wishes to say he can offer no more aid until the next feast day and his power is restored to full strength—instead I have decided I shall help you and your team, after all, I am the God of and you are the army of Light.”
By this point, Apollo was visible—and Marcus instantly became hard again. As naked as he was, Apollo was perfectly constructed. Standing his equal in height, with golden skin, golden curly hair, ponderous pecs, perfectly carved abs, powerful arms and legs and the divine godcock. For Marcus, it was like looking into a mirror.
“I will do what I can, and first, I can transport you across the Empire, to Aegyptus. In return, I ask for little but your worship, and the chance to worship you, for you are definitely godlike in your beauty.”
Marcus stood up and kept his head bowed, but was incredibly aroused by the god before him. Precum ran from his cock down the crevice between his pecs and along his abs. Without replying, Marcus reached out and cradled Apollo’s face, drawing him into a passionate kiss.Their tongues entwined in their mouths, and Apollo slipped his thick arms around Marcus’ broad shoulders. Between them, their cocks bumped off each other, pressed between the massive pecs. Their torsos became slick with precum, for Apollo too had nipples leaking godcum. Apollo gripped Marcus’ firm muscle butt cheeks, and pulled him closer. Between their legs, the two sets of balls rubbed against each other. Marcus could feel the body heat of the immortal before him, and without resistance, was turned by Apollo’s strong arms, until he was facing away. Apollo drove his massive godcock home into Marcus’ ass, penetrating only where Mars’ cock had gone before him. Marcus gasped as his entire body was filled with pleasure, and the feeling of the thick, strong godcock inside him. Within minutes, Apollo was ploughing into Marcus’ ass at impossible speeds, and Marcus yelled with pleasure. As he plunged deeper and deeper, Apollo caused his body to grow, and his cock increased in size, reaching depths inside Marcus. Marcus was lifted off the ground and held against the cave wall by the god’s mighty arms, supported by the godcock.
The rough cave wall did no damage to Marcus’ thick muscled body, the stimulation on his cock and nipples was intense and he clenched his ass muscles. Apollo’s cock began to swell, and his balls pulled up tight, as he released in a great gush godcum into the hero’s body. Marcus felt the golden cum enter his body, and it redistributed to his muscles, and his body swelled with the power of yet another god. His nipples sprayed godcum over Marcus’ back, where it was absorbed into his warm, golden skin. Powered by godcum, he grew his body to match Apollo’s increased proportions, and his golden skin took on a brighter glow. as the great river of cum from out of Apollo’s cock trailed off, he withdrew from Marcus, and sat back on his haunches. Marcus, whose feet now reached the floor, turned round and guided his engorged, lengthy cock into the god’s mouth. Apollo maintained eye contact throughout, as he drew the mighty cock deep into his throat, and his hands reached up to fondle his balls.
Marcus gripped the god’s colossal shoulders as his cock received the best blowjob he had ever experienced. Stimulated by his recent fucking, it did not take long for Marcus to unleash his own torrent of godcum deep inside Apollo, who was intensely satisfied. Swallowing every last drop, he removed the cock from his mouth, stood to kiss the centurion. They stepped apart, and through his power, clothes appeared on both of their bodies, and within the blink of an eye, they were both in the rented room at the tavern with all of his soldiers. Their colossal sizes had been reduced to something more mortal, and they stood amongst the bunk beds. It being late at night, each of the men were sleeping, but on the arrival of the god, they each woke up. There was not a flaccid cock in the room, and each had begun to stroke their erections. Marcus explained his experience in the shrine, and the promise of Apollo’s help.
After each of the men had got dressed and assembled outside, Apollo stood before them and called down out of the night sky a burning chariot, standing ten feet high and massively sized. It hovered above the ground in the yard of the tavern, and as he climbed aboard, Apollo returned to a divine form, in proportion to the gigantic chariot. Clothed in a fiery toga, he beckoned the men onto the back of the chariot, which, whilst it was a bit of a squeeze, there was enough space for all of them.
Neal, wide-eyed at the sight of the god, hung tightly to the side of chariot, as it began to rise above the town. Climbing above the clouds, Apollo cracked the reins and fiery horses became visible in front of it, massive and growing brightly in the dark. They began to gallop, and as the chariot moved, the sky began to light with the oncoming dawn. The chariot was the blazing sun in the sky, and they thundered east, against the standard direction of the sunlight. Each of the soldiers gripped tightly to each other, and Marcus, exhilarated, allowed his body to grow, matching the proportions of the god. Pressing his body up against the back of Apollo, he wrapped his arms around the god’s waist and expressed his gratitude, as they flew south east through the sky.
Within minutes, the chariot had crossed the Mediterranean, and the horses began to drop in speed. Coming to rest on a sand dune, each of the men stepped off into the warm sand, heated by the blazing of the sun. Dizzy, they stumbled around, and Marcus and Apollo said farewell with a muscle hug, and the god drew away the chariot back into the sky.
Looking at his men, Marcus saw the look of utter shock on their faces, and decided he should seek to reassure them in the most pleasurable way he knew. He discarded his uniform, and bared his newly enhanced muscle, powered by two gods, and his cock streaming his golden cum.
Marcus was the gods’ chosen Hero, and thus was by far the greatest mortal to ever walk the earth’s surface. At present, in the cool early morning desert of Aegyptus, he towered above the rest of his men, having grown in size to match Apollo as he had pressed his body against that of the god as they flew across the sea. Powered by the cum of two gods, Marcus thrummed with energy, his muscles bulging and shifting underneath is golden skin. His power, concentrated in the epitome of his masculinity, his godlike basket, the bulge seldom covered by the tunic that materialised only when he wanted it to, and it was so often ripped by his powerful GODCOCK rising to the heavens. It was manly, girthy and strong, arched over his balls, swollen with godcum, the base of his power. Large, slightly hairy, his balls churned the godcum which flowed around his body, strengthening his body, and giving him the power to grow. It dribbled in streams of pre-cum from his nipples hanging off his meaty pecs, and from the slit at the end of his godcock. Currently, his godcum was plastered over all of his men, having orgasmed under the attention of their hands and tongues, and his own hands, jerking the cock that nestled between his mountainous pecs until the godcum was pumped up a shaft taller and thicker than his men from the boulder sized balls hanging at its base, and out, over the landscape that was his own body, and the sand dunes around them. The boiling godcum landed on the sand, and also on the men, soaking into their skin and furthering their enhancement, a tangible and pleasurable blessing direct from their Centurion. Aedan, Neall, Lucius, Castor and Pollux and Sextus had already released their own loads from their balls, yet their cocks still stood at attention, constantly aroused by the paradigm of masculinity who stood before them, empowered for their mission to stem the tide of darkness flooding the world.
As Apollo drove the sun ever higher in the sky, Marcus led the unit across the desert, heading roughly west, following the arc of the sun god above, and drawn by the scent of the distant river Nile, through his superhuman senses. For comfort, the men’s tunics had dissipated to keep them cool in the burning sun. Striding naked except for the weapons hanging from their belts, swinging in sync with the pendulous cocks.The sand made for uncomfortable hiking, as it shifted beneath their feet, yet stamina was not an issue for the men. By midday, despite not having any water, and all covered by a glean of sweat, alongside the masculine musk hanging around them, Marcus sighted civilisation, and the river.
They were on the east bank, and here the river flowed wide and slow. The town before them was small, yet had all the standard amenities—just as the Romans had brought their imprint of the city to the northern extents of Britannia, so had they to the burning desert deep in Aegyptus. There was the forum, the classical temple and the theatre, as well as a stadium.
Entering through the town walls, the men cut an imposing shape. Now properly attired, yet still physically massive, they strode through the busy marketplace. Marcus took particular notice of the presence of multiple statues, at every street corner, of a well-built young man, similar to that of a statue of Apollo. Winding towards the centre, Marcus led his men to worship at the main temple.
Having expected a temple to Zeus, the soldiers were instead surprised to find this shrine was dedicated to the same figure as the statues outside, the muscular youth with Greek looks and classical symmetry. The interior of the temple was deserted, and behind them the twins closed the heavy main doors. Marcus knelt down before the god, and begun his prayer, and as had happened before, when Mars and Apollo had materialised, bright light shone out of the gloom, and the god stepped through. In the flesh he was even more gorgeous—not as intensely masculine and muscular as Mars had been, nor as light and shining as Apollo was, but simply beautiful, a youth in mid-twenties whose handsome looks were complimented by the muscular build lightly graced with hair. His torso was bare, he wore a simple loincloth.
“Arise Marcus, you have no need to kneel before me”, the god said. His voice did not possess the sheer authority of Mars but instead oozed sex. As had become standard when encountering their gods, the men’s cocks stood rigidly to attention.
“I am Antinous, former lover of the Emperor Hadrian. I died here, in this town, and was thus made a god. Imbued with the sacred power of the Nile, I now possess similar powers to your own, and I have a dedicated cult of loyal followers. This city you stand in is named after me, Antinopolis, yet my power is waning here—that is why Apollo brought you to me. The demons you chase are here already, and have multiplied, using the sacred waters of the Nile and the bodies of my cult members. My statues have been cut down and mutilated, and I am thus weakened. This manifestation is draining me, yet it is down to you to end this. Stop these demons. I can reward you well after, I sincerely look forward to exploring all of your bodies, and sharing in what my brothers Apollo and Mars have created.
Antinous’ glimmer now began to fade, he diminished in aura of divinity, and as he finished speaking he fell to the floor. Marcus sprang to help him up, and was struck by how similar the youth was to the messenger boy form Mars had taken on in the camp beyond the Wall. Antinous climbed back to his feet. He was dwarfed by the enhanced figures of the men around him, yet still exceeded most humans on the earth. He could no longer maintain his immortal form and thus reverted to a mortal one.
Marcus decided it was in Antinous’ bets interest that the demons be found out as soon as possible, and therefore left the weakened god in his temple, attended to by the Germanic stud Lucius. The blond hunk supported Antinous, who looked small in comparison to Lucius, in terms of musculature and also height. The rest of the soldiers spread back out into the town, and began to search out traces of demonic activity.
It didn’t take Aedan, with his advanced tracking skills, to locate what appeared to be a standard house from the outside. However, the statue of Antinous that stood on the street corner next to it was lacking its head and limbs, and across the doorway lay the carcass of a dead Nile heron.
Pushing inside, Marcus entered a darkened room. Even with his enhanced sight, he found it difficult to pick out much in the gloom. His skin lit up with his golden glow, and he drew his sword, ready to fight back. As back in Londinium, a corpse lay on a simple altar in the middle of the room—but of demons or other victims there was no sign. Sextus and Aedean had followed him in, whilst Neall and Castor and Pollux had taken up positions around the outside of the house. Crossing to the shutters, Marcus threw them open, letting the mid-afternoon sunlight in. A non-de-script room was revealed, devoid of anyone but the soldiers. Marcus checked all of the side cubicles, nothing.
Emerging back onto the street, it was obvious something was wrong. None of the civilians that had been wandering about before, going about their daily lives, shopping in the market, were around. An eerie kind of silence had fallen, with only the wind blowing the sand through the streets. Confused, the men once again wandered through the small town, less than a square mile. There was not a soul about.
The Romans reconvened outside the temple, but as they gathered Marcus heard a faint chanting on the breeze. Beckoning his men, they followed him as he used his height to climb on to the roofs of the single-story buildings, the biceps in his arm bulging as he pulled the weight of his muscular body up. He leapt from rooftop to rooftop, following the chanting which grew louder and louder. He came across the hippodrome, far from the market place. In the rows of stands, a crowd rhythmically chanted and swayed, as a procession took place around the chariot track at the centre. Yet the audience were not human—it was apparent to Marcus and his men that these were converted demons, hundreds, if not thousands of them. Below in the middle, a taller, purple skulled demon, draped in a dark grey robe, pulled a string of captives around by harnesses, approaching an altar at the centre of the hippodrome. Here, a body lay, of a middle aged man, and out of cuts along his arms ran blood, collecting against the rim of the tabletop, and draining into a cup, seemingly carved out of the marble scavenged from one of the statues of Antinous. From the vantage point of behind the crowd, Marcus was helpless to watch, as the last remaining captives, two old men and one woman, were forced to drink the blood, turned black in the stone cup, and undergo their metamorphosis into a demon. Their hair fell out, their skin turned purple, leathery, and ridges of bone emerged through their faces. Within minutes, not a single standard human remained alive in Antinopolis. It was now a city of demons. Marcus turned to Sextus, and they contemplated the horror before them.
“We cannot take them all,” he whispered in a hurried tone.
“WE have no choice, we can’t let this many get away, they’ll just march on and on, converting as they go.” Sextus, as optio, was of course right. However, the ability to decide on a course of action was taken out of their hands, as it was at that moment the stone ledge Neall had crouched on began to crumble. He leapt to safety, but the noise attracted the attention of the horde of the batlike creatures. Hissing, clawing, the crowd leapt at them, and it was a bitter fight for survival, swinging the specially forged weapons. Each of the men were outnumbered, and to combat this, Marcus increased his height to as far as he could manage, but in his drained state, after a desert trek, his maximum was about eight feet. He still contained a lot of force, but under attack from dozens of the clawing and biting demons, each of the Romans began to falter. Blood spewed from numerous cuts and bites, and Aedan was the first to collapse under the onslaught. Sextus fought his way over to the fallen Celt, and stood over him, defending with his sword and shield.
Even as the demonic rites were underway in the hippodrome, Lucius was tending to Antinous. The god was weak, and sipped water from a cup held by the German. Lucius was struck by the beauty of this youth, who in so many ways was similar to himself—Antinous had the form of a 24yr old, the same as Lucius, and whilst there was a contrast in musculature, they shared their own forms of masculine beauty. As he regained some strength, Antinous, having laid his head in Lucius’ lap, began to admire his muscles, particularly the strong arms.
“You were a mighty spear thrower, even before your enhancement,” Antinous observed, in his sexual voice.
“I was a great hunter in the army, and I was best in the camp at the pentathlon,” Lucius replied, flexing his bicep in reply. Antinous took this as an invitation to rub them, admiring how he, despite having divine power, was unable to dent. It wasn’t long before instead it was Antinous tongue admiring the muscles of Lucius, and they shed their clothing quickly. Lucius used his superior size and strength to move Antinous’ body, jerking his own cock and that of the god’s, which was still very significant, erect and dripping with godcum. Lucius brought the smaller man’s cock to his mouth, holding his body aloft, sucking from the thick rod the powerful nectar. Antinous quickly released his cum under this attention, and in return, once back on the ground, and Lucius had stood back up, clamped his mouth around Lucius’ mighty cock. It was long, nestling between the pecs comparable to Marcus’ among the downy blond hair which curled across his chest. Antinous ran his tongue along its thick length, diverting to bathe Lucius’ cobblestone abs in adoration. Angling his body, Antinous took the Germanic stud’s cock deep into his throat, and used his hands to push against his tight bubble butt. Antinous sucked hard, and fondled the mighty balls hanging behind the godlike cock.Lucius rna his hands over his own body, enjoying the blow job he was receiving from a god, and the power in his own muscles. His bounced his pecs, feeling the heavy masses shift on his chest, and performed a double bicep pose, loving the sight of the mountains on his arms. He tousled the hair of the man between his legs, and as he neared climax, all his muscles tensed. His cock swelled, and cum was pumped into Antinous’ throat with force.
As he swallowed the potent cum, Antinous began to feel more powerful, and regained some of his divinity. Letting the cock out of his mouth, he stood up straight, now eye to eye with Lucius, and his musculature adapted to match. His godly glow returned, powered by the cum of a devotee.He pulled Lucius against him, and they locked tongues, as their cocks were mashed between their torsos as they tenderly kissed.
Suddenly, Antinous broke the kiss, and stepped away. Armour materialised on both of their bodies, and Lucius’ disappointment at the breaking of their moment was replaced by concern for his comrades.
“Thank you for your worship, it has restored me to my power—and I look froward to picking up where we left off—but your friends are in danger. We need to help them”.
The pair arrived at the hippodrome just as Aeden fell. Lucius dived in, jabbing with his spear with one hand, and swinging his dagger with the other. However, Antinous stood back, and concentrated.
Across the city, all of the remaining intact statues of him, on all the street corners, about five dozen, came to life, their marble locks bouncing, their stone muscles flexing. Through the streets bounded these stone Antinouses, and as they reached the hippodrome, they began to turn the tide against the demons, as their bodies didn’t feel the blows of the demons, who couldn’t break through the stone skin with their claws. There was no blood to spill. Demon after demon began to fall, collapsing to dust as they encountered the enhanced weapons. Of the hundreds that began the attack, only twenty remained now, and recognising they were losing their numerical advantage, began to withdraw to the far side of the arena. The soldiers and statues pursued, yet Marcus counted at least eight that had escaped. Finally, no demon remained in the hippodrome, yet they hadn’t eradicated all of them. The escaped demons had fled through the city, and the men were too exhausted to pursue.
Aedan had regained consciousness, but was as weary as some of the others. Marcus observed the closeness of Antinous and Lucius, as the latter had his arm around the shoulders of the god as he relinquished control of the statues and they fell to the ground immobile. The group slumped against the side of the arena, and Marcus realised the challenge was only just beginning. They had prevented a major increase in the size of the demon army, but once again they had lost some. The chase was not finishing here in Aegyptus, and doubtless he would need the help of the gods to capture the fugitive demons, and still return to the Wall to fight the final battle.
Castor and Pollux carefully steered the boat using barge poles in the busy quayside of Alexandria, as the rest of the men prepared to disembark. Seizing upon a free space at the harbour wall, they tied the boat up and Marcus led them off along the harbour, to where the larger ships bobbed where the Mile met the sea. He was glad to see the ship belonging to Siphes at the far end, just as he’d expected from the map.
As they approached he encountered Siphes supervising the loading of supplies by four burly sailor types. Marcus felt his cock stir at the sight of Arab stud, his biceps tensed as he stood with his arms crossed. Stripped to the waist, his skin glowed in the blazing Sun. Siphes gave Marcus a manly hug at their reunion, which had both their thick cocks standing erect under the little clothing they wore. The men climbed aboard the ship and finally had a chance to relax, for the first time since the battle in Antinoopolis.
After the last of the remaining demon converts had evaporated into dust, Marcus and his men had fallen down exhausted. For the first time he had become concerned that for all their gifts, his men were still mortal and had their limits, and they could easily have lost against the swarm of demons, if not for the assistance of Antinous. The god had relinquished his control of the statues and concentrated on his single physical form, which shone brightly, with his appearance of a handsome young man in his prime. He had guided the Romans through his city to the barge, and sent them on their way, as well as informing them that he would endeavour to have someone meet them downriver. The barge had been driven by divine power until it was a mile or so from the city, at which point the power waned, and the men had to steering and rowing when necessary. Antinous chose to remain behind in his dead city, which he had decided to revive, but knew it could take time. However, he had a lasting effect on Marcus’ unit, helping heal some of their wounds, and most profoundly on Lucius, with whom he had developed a special bond with.
As lover of a god, Lucius had to some part been physically altered. In his natural state, when Marcus hadn’t used his power to temporarily grow the Germanic stud’s muscles, Lucius stood taller than before, closing on 7 feet, with a significant gain of muscle mass than before. He had lost his lean look and now looked strong, like a gladiator in the amphitheatre. His arms were easily 19 inches, with veiny definition, his lats gave his back the classic v shape, and his traps reached up his neck. Lucius’ shoulders were now broader, and were massive balls of muscle. Meanwhile his pecs stood fuller on his chest, rounded and meaty, capped by delicious looking nipples significantly increased in size. His abs were now a chiselled 8 pack, with his Apollo’s belt well defined. His legs were mighty tree trunks, well shaped and bulging with power.
Across his body his blond hair had spread, giving him a masculine and sexy look. His treasure trail between his newly improved abs ran down to his enhanced package. His cock was now thicker than before, even when soft, and rivalled that of Sextus or Marcus when they were in a vaguely human size. Erect, it towered up his torso, its uncut head rubbing precum into the crevasse between his massive pecs. Below, his balls hung low and full, churning his man seed. Marcus had relished the chance to see this magnificent body, as Lucius had also gained a sexy air of cockiness, and sunbathed naked on the barge when he wasn’t helping steer. He had tanned well in the desert sun, and his skin was a lustrous gold, unusual with his blond hair, that hung to his shoulders. The presence of such a stud on the barge had heightened the sexual tension, and while Marcus wanted to stop the boat and have an all out orgy on the bank, he realised the need to press on, and just admire with his eyes, and not his tongue.
Marcus had realised that all the enhancements the gods could give wouldn’t stop a swarm of demons overwhelming his unit whilst there were still only eight of them in total, and that was when Siphes was actually with them. He needed to start recruiting at a greater speed, and finding good candidates was going to be difficult. The two new recruits so far, Neall and Siphes, had been men he just happened to meet as a course of fate, but now he would have to go out and look for recruits. Several demons had survived the battle in the hippodrome and the more of them the were, the quicker they could convert, and the greater the threat they presented. Hunting them down and chasing them where they went was not working as a strategy, he needed to recruit soldiers and still prevent the demon numbers from rising. He was still pondering this challenge that evening, as Sextus and Siphes joined him in the cabin.
‘I got a message that you men would be here in Alexandria, just as I was finishing repairing my ship in Gaul,’ Siphes explained when Marcus asked how he had found them, and ‘out of the mouth of a statue of a god in the city, I don’t know which god, just a young looking one, and so I got ready to sail. I didn’t think I’d get here for weeks, sailing all the way through the Mediterranean, so I hired some crew members—that was those four sailors you saw loading the ship earlier. They all used to work for a rival captain and because its still winter, couldn’t sail. They were stuck in that port in Gaul, and I offered them a job, and they leapt at the chance. They were sceptical that I was going to sail whilst the seas were so rough, but I managed to persuade them by putting on a bit of show for them.’
At this point the captain flexed a bicep, splitting the sleeve of the tunic he had put on earlier. Marcus felt his cock harden slightly.
‘Just a bit of a drink from my cock and they were all very convinced too. I picked them especially—these four, Dumnorix, Belimicus, Erix and Scythio, they’re all local and into their bodies. And it helps that they all swing the right way, or at least if not that way, one look at me and I can turn them. I’m quite looking forward to them after you recruit them.’
Marcus was concerned that Siphes had picked people to be recruited without consulting him, but he trusted the captain, and had a feeling that the recruitment process itself would have a mental effect too—just like he could manipulate the bodies of his men, he felt he had a subtle effect on their minds—he could feel their loyalty to him and Mars, and their sexual desire for him. The limited telepathy between them, through the godcum he and Mars had shared with them, linked them all. He was only slowly becoming aware of the extent of the powers he had received, and during the fight at the hippodrome he had felt it mentally when Aedan collapsed. He hoped that as the Army of Light grew, the connections would become stronger and more defined, just as he wanted their bodies to.
Sextus explained to Siphes what had happened since he’d last seen them, but turned to Marcus when he asked where they were going next.
“I suppose we should head north, across to Italia or Graecus, more places of ‘great power’. I think we’ve lost the trail now of the demons, they could have split into groups. All we know about what they’re doing is that they’ll go to places where they can make more converts and then by the end of the year they’ll return to the Wall. The one we had to leave behind will have raised an army too and they’ll lead an attack on Britannia, And then the rest of the world. But they need to start from the Wall, because that’s where they first came through to this world and thus are strongest.’
The mood in the cabin had turned solemn as the scale of the challenge ahead became apparent. Siphes made an excuse about needing to get the ship ready to sail and left the optio alone with the centurion. The ginger Celt sat down next to the Italian stud and put his arm round the broad shoulders of the man he saw not only as his commander but his best friend and lover.
“Mars chose us because he has faith in us. He knows we can do this and has made us better so we can. You don’t need to worry, we are a good team and we will get this done. So stop being so concerned and come stick your massive cock in these hot men and fuck them till they’re so hot I cum just looking at them. And don’t you want a go on Lucius now he’s improved? I like the fact he’s now cockier, such a turn on. So come on, let’s have a good night.”
An hour later, the ship was sailing out into the Med and the men had gathered on the deck. Whilst Siphes manned the helm, the soldiers stood naked in a circle around the four sailors, who were kneeling whilst still fully clothed. Marcus approved of Siphes’ choice, each of these men was as hot as his had been before recruitment, muscular and handsome. He beckoned the first, Dumnorix, over and guided his head onto his godcock, from which golden precum had begun to flow. Whilst Dumnorix sucked his fill, the other three all found cocks waiting to be sucked, and of the men who weren’t receiving head they casually jerked off over the sight in front of them. Marcus felt himself reaching orgasm and held Dumnorix’s tight to his balls, his long thick cock filling the Gauls throat.
With a grunt the centurion unloaded into the sailor and his physique below his tunic began to grow and stretch, tearing his clothes. A bubble butt grew out of a mediocre one, pecs ballooned, arms thickened and his cock swelled yet still bigger, ripping up through his undergarments and along the canyon of his new 8 pack abs. Marcus pulled his cock from out of the stud, and Lucius moved straight in, pressing his lips to the still growing sailor. The Germanic hunk took Dumnorix by the cock, gave it a few strokes before twisting him around and plunging his behemoth of a cock into his right ass. He continued to ferociously plough away as the sailor finished his growth, still the smaller man but not by much. Meanwhile Marcus had taken the next sailor, Eric, who had already received a load from Sextus. Marcus was building to his second ejaculation of the night when Lucius grunted and came deep inside Dumnorix. However what was surprising was how his entire body grew slightly and he too came from his nipples, golden cum spraying out from his luscious pecs. The sight was so erotic the rest of them all came instantly. Erix too began to transform, and was pulled off Marcus’ godcock to administer to the twin giants of Castor and Pollux. So the orgy continued, until the deck was slippy with steaming man cum and a mix of Marcus and Lucius’ golden seed. A sweaty musk hung in the air as the 12 studs began to tore. Siphes had jerked off to the sight below as he steered the ship, but had not noticed the great banks of mist enclosing the ship. The only notice the men paid was when they felt the ship run aground on a rocky coast and stuck fast.
5 years earlier…
Marcus awoke to warm daylight drifting in around the curtain, dappling the small room with flecks of golden light. Shielding his eyes, he pulled off the blanket and sat up, swinging his feet off the edge of the bed. However, this sudden movement brought a throbbing to his head, and his screwed up his eyes and clenched at his temples in pain. As the worst of the headache receded, Marcus tried to recall what had bought on what felt like the worst hangover of his life, but the events of the night before drew a complete blank. Presumably he had enjoyed them if he couldn't remember, but the enjoyment was not enough to outweigh the pounding ache in his head this morning.
Moving slowly, he got to his feet and fumbled around on the shelf behind the door for a tunic, which he then pulled over his head. He fastened a belt around his waist and slipped on his sandals and left his bedroom, crossing the garden outside, shielding his eyes from the sun. Slipping into the relative coolness of the atrium, he came across his father's elderly slave Xanthias snoring across one of the benches, his head slumped up against a column. Leaving the Greek to his nap, Marcus nodded his head in the direction of the shrine of the household gods and went into the kitchen, where he preceded to pour himself a cup of water out of one of the large amphorae resting in the shelves. The oven was still warm, indicating the bread had been baked that morning, and Marcus broke off the end of a crust left out on a plate near the window.
He sat at the table, feeling distinctly queasy, and tried desperately to remember what he had been up to last night. He didn't think he'd been down to the tavern, nor had he had any friends round, and Marcus definitely wasn't the sort to get drunk on his own for lack of anything better to do. Finishing what little he could stomach for breakfast, he took the bucket outside to the well in the yard, and cranked the handle to lower the bucket. Barely paying any attention, a loud snap called Marcus back to reality, when the handle of the crank broke off in his hand—it seemed he didn't know his own strength.
Sighing with exasperation, Marcus took hold of the rope and began to pull it up manually, flexing his arms as he did so. For a brief moment as he looked at his arms he suddenly saw them rippling with muscles, twice as big as they were now, lean and toned from labouring on the farm. Confused by why he'd had this mental image just pop into his head, Marcus took the bucket now at the lip of the well and carried it back inside, depositing it in the kitchen alcove. He had a growing realisation that it was much later in the day than he'd realised, getting on for midday, and so Marcus went to tend to his daily chores.
From the barn he slung a hay bale up on to his shoulder, and made his way out along the track running up the hill past the side of the farmhouse to the horse field, where the family's two cart horses were grazing. He whistled to them as he swung the bale into the rough wooden trough, and ran his hand through their manes, apologising for coming so late in the day. It was on his way up through the small fruit orchard to the vineyard that covered the crest of the hill that he encountered his younger brother Silius and the farmhand Titus checking for ripe fruit on the trees.
'Ah, you're up now then are you? We didn't think we'd see you before dinner today,' Silius teased him. He was about three years younger, but the two brothers were still close. Titus, older than Marcus by about a year or so, ruffled Silius' hair and winked at Marcus, saying 'Marcus, your father wanted to see you this morning but he had to go into town before you got up. Oh and you know what day it is today, so you might want to freshen up', as he cast his eyes up and down Marcus' ruffled tunic. Marcus could not remember at all, and was about to ask, but Titus tossed him an apple and gestured him out the orchard. 'Go, you really won't have time now'.
Marcus took a bite and turned and walked off with bemusement, but not before he'd enjoyed the sight of Titus stripping off his sweaty tunic as he lugged a heavy basket to the end of the row of trees. Titus was well built, with rough but large muscles gracing his body, manly hair distributed along a sexy treasure trail and a smattering on his rounded pecs. Titus knew Marcus had an eye for him, and on occasion had deliberately flaunted his body around the farm. Several times the sexual tension, which had been building since Titus had joined the family last summer, had boiled over into a highly charged encounter, either Marcus blowing Titus' thick 8.5 inch cock in the corner of a field, or the two of them stroking their meat till they blew their cum over each other's manly chests. However, they had only remained friends rather than lovers, as both knew they had feelings for other people. Titus had left behind a man in his own town when he came to work for Marcus' family, and Marcus himself had emotional baggage.
Marcus tracked back along the rocky path, winding down through the orchard. Behind the farmhouse, a small hot spring bubbled up through the rocky outcrop, and the family had excavated a small alcove into the rock face below the pool to create a tumbling, narrow waterfall. Marcus stripped off his tunic and hung it over the branch of a cypress tree, and slipped under the slightly warm water, relishing the feel of water hitting his muscles. He ran his hands down his toned chest, and again had the strange experience of seeing it as incredibly developed, thick heavy pecs hanging like a shelf over washboard abs. Shaking himself out of his imaginings, Marcus closed his eyes and tipped his head back and let the water run over his face.
The noise of the water suddenly intensified, and Marcus found himself in a misty blackness, and heard the crashing of heavy waves onto a shore. Groans of timber filled the air, and he could hear men's shouts. He could feel driving rain hit his body, and every so often there was a crack of lightning and booming thunder…
But all too suddenly he was back under the waterfall, opening his eyes and seeing the glaring sunshine. He could however hear the clip-clop of horses' hooves in the valley below, and as he began to relax again, a muscular arm wrapped itself around his abdomen, and pressed Marcus up against someone behind him. He felt the hot breath on the side of his face, and turned to meet them in a passionate kiss, but pulled away when he opened his eyes and saw who his shower companion was.
Standing before him, having casually dumped his armour, tunic and cloak behind him on a boulder, was Tullio, the first man Marcus had ever loved, childhood friend and neighbour. The sun caught his golden hair, and cast shadows in the cleft between his bulky pecs and defined abs. He stood there, with his hands on his hips, letting Marcus goggle quizzically at his unexpected appearance…But he'd left, to go and join the army more than a year before—had he really returned? But why didn't Marcus know he was coming back? Marcus' confusion was quickly dispelled as Tullio resumed their kiss, holding Marcus' slightly shorter body close to his own, roaming his back with his strong hands. Marcus felt their cocks rising between them, pushing against their abs, slick from the water and precum.
Marcus dropped to his knees and took the thick heavy cock in his mouth, exploring how much of its mighty 9 inches of length and 6 in girth he could envelop with his eager mouth. Tullio gripped the back of Marcus' head and kneaded his thick curls, using a slight bit of force to manoeuvre Marcus' head along his thick rod. Before too long, after Marcus had given Tullio's heavy balls some fondling, Tullio let out a manly groan, a spurt of warm cum came blasting out of Tullio's cock into the back of his throat, and as Marcus struggled to swallow, Tullio pulled his cock out and let the remaining spurts blast out over both of their bodies. Marcus wiped his mouth to catch the last strands of cum, and began to lick the remaining cum off the heaving muscles of the stud before him. As they both cleaned off underneath the falling water, Marcus took the chance to admire how much Tullio's body had changed in the year since he had joined the army. Formerly, they had both had similar physiques, toughened by farm labour, but it seemed that military life had lead to an impressive transformation. Tullio's arms hung large and heavy, pushed out from his sides by developed lats. His shoulders had bulked up, and his traps towered up his neck. His abs were a clear cut 6 pack, with hair running along the crevices. His legs stood firm and mighty, and perhaps most impressively his pecs loomed forward over his abdomen, dark nipples pointing downwards. Bundling their clothes together, Marcus led Tullio, both still naked, back towards the house, letting themselves in through the back door. They slipped into his bedroom, and Marcus made to kiss him again, but Tullio stopped him.
'Much as I'd love to, now's not the time. Get your best toga on, you've got guests round'
Marcus fished out his toga from the chest, and helped Tullio refasten his armour, fastening the cloak round his neck. Suddenly he had visions of unfastening someone else's armour, a ginger man, and receiving help himself. The masculine scent of the man's pheromones wafted in his nose…
As quickly as the memory (or fantasy or perhaps déjà vu) had hit him, Marcus was back in reality, and Tullio was giving him a deep kiss. As Marcus sought to wrap his arms round the man's broad shoulders, Tullio pushed him away and said 'Seriously, GO! We can catch up properly later!' Tullio propelled Marcus out into the atrium, where he was greeted by the sight of Xanthias serving food to his father and his uncle Gemellus and another man, in his mid-twenties and athletic. Gemellus was a camp prefect in the army, and was Marcus' maternal uncle, coming from a more patrician origin than his father's family. He had last seen his uncle at his mother's funeral, six years ago, but he was still the same imposing man he remembered, grizzled by war but with a lively spirit inside him.
'Marcus my boy, how you've grown! Come, sit with me, I have news for you,' he called out in his booming voice.
Marcus diligently obeyed, taking up a space on the couch next to Gemellus, and was joined by Tullio.
'Tullio here told me you had become a well-built man but I must say I'm impressed. Saying that, you were only 12 last time I saw you. Now, your father here was saying he's taken on a farmhand—well in my mind that means you aren't needed as much here on the farm so it's time you joined up.'
Marcus opened his mouth to ask, but before he could, Gemellus cut him off and carried on.
'Now Priscus here has sorted a training place for you in the legion, as an optio out in Britannia. Who knows, this could just be the first step on the ladder—in a few years you might be a centurion, and one day perhaps even first centurion. You'll join us in a week, and then travel back with us to Britannia. Now somebody get me a drink, and let me enjoy this food!'
Marcus was initially shocked by his new job, but slowly began to get excited. He'd always dreamed of being in the army, but had stayed behind on the farm to keep it running. Recently though, after his father had inherited some money from a wealthy old aunt, and they had taken on Titus as a farmhand, Marcus knew he might actually get his chance, and presumably that was why his father had invited his uncle to visit. Tullio and him had dreamed of being in the army together, fighting off the barbarians, and their parting when Tullio had joined up the year before had been, whilst painful, bearable on the fact that Marcus knew he too might get to join up.
After the meal, which had mostly been dominated by Gemellus loudly arguing about the advantages of Roman wine to Gallic, Marcus slipped out to the kitchen, where his brother and Titus, as less senior family members, had been eating. They knew the news before he had even told them, and Silius began avidly questioning him. However, Titus, seeing Tullio had followed Marcus into the kitchen, put his arm around SIlius' shoulder and guided him outside, suggesting they have a practice spar. Titus had recognised who Tullio was to Marcus, despite never having met him, and appreciated the need for the conversation.
Marcus sat down at the table and gestured for Tullio to sit opposite. Tullio instead pulled up a chair alongside, and Marcus laid his head on the taller man's shoulder.
'I'm so glad you're back, even if it's just for today. And I can't wait to join up, but leaving the farm, it's just such a big step.'
'The farm will manage fine without you—there's that stud Titus now isn't there? I might give him a fuck before I leave. And this is all you've ever wanted—heck, this is what we wanted, ever since we used to fight in the fields with sticks. You'll go to Britain, to one of the camps, train and get promoted, and one day when you retire you can come back and run the farm then.'
'I've missed you Tullio,' Marcus said with a sigh.
'And I've missed you too—but let's not lie, it was good for both of us to move on. I'll be coming back to Britain with you, to finish what's left of my service there, about a year and a half, but after that I'm being transferred to the Praetorian Guard back in Rome. So you will need to get over me, to be frank. I know I'm so great but you need to deal with that.'
Confused, Marcus sat up and looked at Tullio, but realised he was joking and sighed with exasperation.
'I am over you—I have definitely not missed your teasing. Either way, I'll join up and when we meet again, whether that be in one year or five years, I'll have gotten as buff as you, and then we can have a rematch, see if I can beat you at wrestling for all those times you beat me back when we were kids.'
'Oh I don't know about that—have you seen the size of these?' asked Tullio, flexing his biceps. Marcus stared approvingly and licked his lips, then leaned in to kiss him, but they were interrupted when the tribune Priscus entered.
'Sorry to have to interrupt, but I need to borrow Marcus for a moment Tullio.'
Tullio threw up his hands in mock frustration, and left, remarking he was off to find Titus and flex for him instead.
Marcus was disappointed to see him go, but turned to face the tribune, appreciating his own athletic physique under the toga, and especially the muscular arm bared to the world.
'Walk with me Marcus. I'd like to see this farm in this lovely twilight, and I have much to tell you about your posting.'
Marcus followed the older man back through the rest of the house, interested but fairly confused about this man's character. He seemed aloof, but that might just be his aristocratic nature. Priscus paused as they passed the shrine of the household gods, and bowed his head.
When he looked up again, Marcus was shocked to see that his eyes had clouded over with a golden shine, and he spoke with a different voice, a voice of power and authority.
'MARCUS! YOU NEED TO WAKE UP! THIS IS ALL AN ILLUSION, YOU'RE DREAMING AND REMEMBERING THE PAST, YOU'RE UNDER AN ENCHANTMENT! YOU NEED TO BREAK THE SPELL AND REMEMBER, You have to wake…'
Suddenly the tribune doubled over, coughing and spluttering. Marcus went to support him, and saw that he was back to normal.
'What was that, what you were saying?' he asked, trying to understand.
'I didn't say anything did I? I just had something in my throat,' Priscus replied, evidently with no memory at all of what had just happened. 'I think I shall probably go and see your uncle, and make sure he hasn't drunk too much. We shall have to have our talk another time.'
With that the man breezed off, leaving Marcus clueless to what had actually happened.
'I thought you might like some company, but wasn't sure if I'd catch you and Titus at it and I'd hoped I could join in' Tullio whispered at him. Marcus rolled his eyes and pulled his body close to his own, locking his mouth over Tullio's. Their hands roamed each other's toned bodies, and Tullio's found their way to Marcus' boned cock, which he preceded to jerk a couple of times. Marcus however had completely undressed and removed Tullio's last remaining clothing. With the pre streaming out of both their cocks, he lubed up his own ass, and then presented it to his lover. Tullio wasted no time in ramming his thick rod home, causing Marcus to let out a stifled moan. He felt the mighty cock slide deep inside him, and Tullio's hands were on his hips, holding him tight as his pistoning hips thrust in and out. Tullio let out a grunt, no longer caring about how much noise he made.
Marcus, on his hands and knees, was focusing on holding firm as his asshole was ravaged by the thick cock of Tullio, when he felt another cock in front of his face. He looked up and saw Titus had woken up, and instead of being pissed off, was fully erect and streaming precum out of his equally mighty cock. Marcus gratefully accepted it and it slid deep into his throat, as he sucked as hard as he could.
The feeling of the two muscular hunks fucking his face and ass had led Marcus into complete ecstasy, and his cock was spewing load after load of steaming cum. Titus and Tullio had started to sync their thrusts, so that as one pulled out the other thrust in. The tempo increased, until first Titus blew a massive load down Marcus' throat, his thick cock throbbing as it blasted his cum deep inside. Titus pulled his cock out of Marcus' mouth, not having softened even slightly, and sprayed his jizz over Marcus' face, back and onto Tullio.
This triggered Tullio, and with a yell of pleasure he unloaded deep inside Marcus, dosing him with his second load of man seed in as many minutes. He pulled his long, girthy cock out of Marcus' ass, still spurting the occasional drop of cum, and sat back on his haunches.
Marcus found himself in a black misty environment, floating in the all-enveloping nothingness. He looked down and saw his own naked body, but he wasn't sure what light he could see by, as there was no obvious light source. He called out, attempting to find out where he was, but his shouts just echoed around him. Marcus assumed time passed, but he could not tell. After what seemed an age, he began to hear a growing whisper. It was a man's voice, repeating the same phrase over and over again. It became so loud that it was ringing in his ears, an aggressive harsh whisper straight into his head.
'Wake up wake up wake up wakeupwakeupwakeup'
He recognised the voice as the same one Priscus spoke with, and as he looked around, he saw that a glowing golden light had appeared in the distance. He felt his body being drawn towards it, at great speeds, just as the whisper got louder and louder. He felt a wind rushing past his body as he flew towards the light, and it became so bright that he was forced to shut his eyes, and suddenly there was darkness again.
When Marcus opened his eyes again, he saw he was still naked, but back in his bedroom. He supported himself against the door frame as he gasped for breath. When his head stopped spinning, he pulled out a tunic from the chest and slipped it on, and went out into the atrium. There was no sign of anyone else, not his family or their guests. Venturing outside, he realised that there was a ringing silence. There was no birdsong, and no whispering of the wind through the trees in the valley. Marcus called out, becoming desperate, but his voice just carried in the still air. Looking up, he saw the sky was a hazy blue, and the sunlight seemed dim compared to normal.
Marcus cringed in pain as he felt a sudden pain in his head, and suddenly the whisper was back.
'Wake up wake up wakeup wake up'
Marcus couldn't understand, was he not already awake? But the world seemed wrong, it seemed different. There was no life, no movement. Marcus began to panic as he couldn't begin to realise how he could wake up if he was already awake. He sank to his knees, his head low to the ground. He tensed all his muscles and worked his fists into the dust of the yard. He let out a yell of anguish as the whisper began to overwhelm him, and squirmed in pain.
For all the pain he felt in his head, Marcus looked up with a gasp when he felt a pulsing in the rest of his body. He felt his blood racing, and as the pain receded in his head, he embraced the rush he was feeling. He was stunned when he saw what appeared to be his arms stretching longer. Climbing to his feet, he realised the ground was a lot further away than before. He must now be taller than 6ft 6 and still growing, and he felt his muscles beginning to swell. Mute with amazement, he felt the power building in his own body, and he raised his arms, flexing his biceps in the classic pose. Distracted from his growing body, Marcus noticed however that the world around him had changed. The colours seemed to have leached out, and a greyness was surrounding him. The sides of the valley became blurry in his vision, and before too long only the yard around him was in focus. As bis body grew in mass and strength, reality around him collapsed, before he found himself in a greyness similar to the one he had woken up in. However, his body continued to swell, and Marcus closed his eyes as the feelings of power overwhelmed him.
When he opened them, he was back in what he knew for sure to be the real world. He was in an underground cave, only about 8ft cubed, lit by flickering torches. Around his legs were golden manacles, and his wrists were similarly bound, so that he was practically tied against the wall, feeling the rocky cave wall digging into his back. He pulled and struggled, but the chains simply grew tighter. He was still naked, and he could smell his sweat heavy in the confined environment. He was still in the massively swollen body he had broken out of the dream world with, and Marcus began to regain his memory, of all of the last five years. The details of his recruitment by Mars and the task he had been given rebounded back into his brain, along with his understanding of his power and abilities. The last thing he could remember, before whatever the dream was, was the ship running aground on an island, but beyond that nothing.
Marcus silently prayed to Mars for assistance, and once again began to flex and pull against his chains. The metal they were made of must have been enhanced, for none of his strength could bend or misshape them. However, he felt a mental response from Mars, not in words or pictures, but a feeling of intense arousal, that had his thick cock boned in an instant. It towered up his torso, streaming precum and smearing it in the crevasse between his mighty pecs. His nipples themselves were secreting their own precum, and this dripped down his torso.
Marcus couldn't move his arms to stroke his cock, eager for attention, but he realised he didn't have to, as the mental stimulation he was receiving from Mars was driving him towards climax. As he entered a state of orgasm, his cock blew massive loads of golden godcum and his nipples similarly blasted out, with the streams chipping rock from the cave walls. Simultaneously, he felt a boost of strength to all of his muscles, which gained sudden and godlike strength, even beyond normal for his enhancements. With great exertion, he flexed and grew his muscles yet larger, bursting open the manacles with loud snaps. Free of his chains, Marcus continued to grow, his muscles filling up the small cave, having to crouch and then onto his hands and knees as his body outgrew the confined space. His orgasm receded, and the cum pooled all over the floor.
He reduced his size to a more manageable 7ft, and felt his uniform materialising around him. Then, with a single punch to the door, knocked it off its hinges, and he was out into the corridor beyond.
Marcus advanced through the low stone corridor, his sword drawn in front of him. He reduced his height further, down to a comparably short 6-foot-3, so that he was no longer hunched beneath the rocky ceiling above him. His sandals crunched the sandy floor below, and he turned a corner, coming upon a carved spiral staircase leading both up and down. Considering both his options, Marcus headed up, taking time to find his footing on the narrow steps. He emerged from behind a column into what appeared to be a throne room, behind the throne, which stood on a raised dais of a polished, glowing wood. Cautiously, he edged his way round to the front, and started when he realised the seat was occupied.
A tall woman, with long auburn hair pulled back in a complex braid, reclined back into the seat, her legs tucked beneath her, as she twirled an elegantly carved rod between her hands, capped with a purple gem. Upon seeing him, she got to her feet, and opened her arms wide.
‘Welcome Marcus, I have been waiting for you to wake up. I trust your dreams were pleasant?’
Marcus backed away slowly, brandishing his sword. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘Where are my men?’
‘I am Circe, and this is my home Aeaea—where you wilfully landed your ship, on my shores. You have little to fear from me, I mean you no harm. Rather, I can help you, just as you and your men are helping me.’
Marcus did not let his guard down, but stopped backing away. He had recognised the name, and knew he could be in serious trouble, for all his enhancements- even Ulysses had needed the help of Mercury to escape from the enchantress. His grip tightened round the blade of his sword, and adjusted his stance to face her square on. However, with a twirl of her staff, Circe let loose bands of light, which flew at Marcus, and bound his arms and his legs. With a flash, they solidified into the same metal which had been used in his cell, and he was stuck fast. The ends of the chains disappeared into the shadows at either side of the room, and he he heard them clunk as they fixed themselves to the walls. Marcus immediately flexed and tugged on his restraints, but they just got tighter.
‘If you think you can break these chains, just like the ones in the cell, you’re wrong Marcus, for the gods can’t help you here, in the heart of my domain. Frankly, it was only because I wanted it to happen that Mars was able to aid you. Stop struggling, or I shall be forced to make them tighter’—here, she gestured, and the chains pulled taut, leaving Marcus spread-eagled and suspended in midair in the middle of the chamber.
‘You wanted to know where your men are. Here, let me show you them.’
Circe stepped down from the dais and strode towards the grand doors at the far end of the room, gesturing for Marcus to be pulled along behind her. He hung helpless from the chains, unable to do anything but watch and listen.
The doors swung open before her, and they left the building into a forest clearing, the treeline several hundred yards back. Before that lay swathes of neatly clipped grass, upon which all manner of animals, domestic and wild, lay docile and still. Marcus twisted his head, trying to take in the menagerie laid before him: lions, elephants, pigs, cows and horses, amongst others which he did not recognise, such as a striped cat, or large monkey-like figures. The chains halted just on the threshold, and Marcus was left hanging in the doorway, whilst his captor made her way over to the nearest lion and tenderly stroked its mane. It made no reaction, merely continuing to breathe motionless.
‘This is what I normally do to the men I capture—transform them into beasts for my garden. But, for whatever reason, your men were impervious to my transformations. I’ll show you what I’ve done with them instead. I might as well put them to some use, if not decorating my lawn.’ Circe glided back inside, and Marcus felt the chains twist, turning him to face inside. However, before the outside world fell beyond his perspective, he caught sight of another lion, and a zebra, hugging close to the walls of the house. He craned his neck to keep them in sight, for he could see that their hides were flaking and moulting, revealing a purple skin beneath. On the lion, purple bone structures had burst through the its maw, and the zebra seemed to have sprouted a black malformed horn from its forehead. The two animals were grunting in pain, and writhing where they stood. He recognised it as one of the first stages of demonic hatching, but before he could observe more, his head was twisted by an unseen force, and Circe called on him to pay attention. The doors swung shut behind them, and the witch led them into a side chamber, down a staircase and into a vast underground space, spanning a size similar to a gladiatorial arena. Clearly this mansion did not obey normal physical bounds, and such a space should be impossible. Across the floor of the cavern, some twenty feet below the opening where they stood, countless pots and jars stood on racks, some filled with glowing liquids, and some seemingly empty. Circe led the floating Marcus along a narrow cause way carved into the side of the cave for what seemed like hours, until they finally came upon the far wall. Here, strung up by similar chains to his, were Marcus’ men, unconscious, but with large hoses circling their cocks, milking their cum right out of them at a steady rate. It was collecting in a vat set into the ground before them, a steaming mass of man seed. From this pool were running several tubes, carrying the cum off to other parts of the laboratory. Lucius alone had two additional tubes hanging off his pecs, and his tubes drained into a separate pool of golden cum. A musky, hot smell hung in the air. As the chains, still suspending him in midair, drew Marcus closer, his cock beneath his tunic started to grow hard involuntarily, as the atmosphere permeated his nostrils.
‘I’m pumping pheromones into the air supply to keep them aroused, so that I can collect this fabulous seed—particularly this one.’ At this, Circe ran her hand up Lucius’s thigh, and his body jerked in reflex. ‘You’ll know this already, but this semen has remarkable properties. My potions double in effectiveness, my spells and concoctions mature twice as fast, and those of my beasts who are fed it are enhanced beyond my power. I’ve certainly not seen an 8-foot-tall lion before, nor an elephant with six tusks.’ As she spoke, Circe dipped her staff into the vat below her, and stirred slowly, before bringing it out and letting it drip into her mouth.
‘But what I’m interested in are these psychic properties, which I know you have some control over. You can grow and communicate with those who consume this—don’t even try on me, I am immune to your abilities, and regardless those chains bind you completely. However, I can control these abilities with a little bit of my own magic- not on you, but on your men.’
She waved her staff at the strung up figures, and the bodies began to shrink, loosening their muscle mass and height. She let this continue for a minute, then gestured again, and the shrinkage stopped. Circe laughed- a high, piercing sound. ‘It’s been good fun pushing these men to the edge, and I’ve had such a long time to do it. Of course you can’t realise it, locked away in your fantasy little world, but you’ve been here for seven months. In all that time I’ve learnt a lot about what I can do with you, more than you could perhaps ever imagine.’
Marcus was still only half listening to her, but he had just noticed that, unlike the others, neither Sextus’s nor Lucius’s body had shrunk when Circe had cast her spell, and in fact the manacles around their wrists and calves looked to be straining, despite the metal infused with magic. He reasoned direct contact with Mars’s and Antinous’s god-cum respectively had made the two of them slightly more impervious to Circe’s power.
‘What do you want from us? Why keep us for seven months?’ he asked, reasoning the more information he gathered the sooner he could formulate an escape. Marcus knew the fact that demons had somehow invaded even this magical island didn’t bode well for the world outside, and seven months lost recruiting time for him was seven months’ head start gained for their enemy.
In response, Circe twirled her wand again and he was drawn to another niche in the cavern, a gateway carved into the bare rock face. A heavy door made from a purple-tinted wood, bound with iron, blocked the passage, and Circe turned to face him as she stood in front of him.
‘Don’t presume for one moment I am ignorant of your mission. These demons are arriving in our world, and they threaten Olympus and mortal civilisation. Well, what have mortals ever done for me? I have languished here on this island for millennia, and Circe’s time is coming. Gods and fate and destiny have denied me what I wanted- Ulysses tricked me with the help of the gods and left, after taking his men back, and abusing my hospitality for a year. Well, know this, Marcus the Centurion—you will not do so. And thus witness my path to domination.’
At this she struck the door with her wand, and it creaked open inwards, revealing a whirling black abyss beyond. ‘This is a doorway to their realm, but has existed since Gaia and Uranus first came together. I shall, using your power and that of your men, summon forth a great army of demons, bound to my will, and with them overthrow gods and men. Your godseed will augment this doorway, and from here I will lead my battalions over the sea to Italy and Rome, and cast down this upstart Empire!’
Her eyes rolled maniacally as she raved, and Marcus, rolling his own eyes at her melodramatics, tactfully said nothing. She once again gestured, leading them back to the rest of Marcus’ men over the pool, and Marcus was similarly strung up, his uniform torn from him by a wave of her wand, tubes extending from the pool to attach to his cock and pecs. Within minutes, his cock, hard from the musky atmosphere, was streaming precum and he groaned in pleasure. Circe stood admiring the view for a moment, then withdrew from the cavern, calling over her shoulder:
‘Just a few days more will give me enough to start the ritual… count the hours, mortals.’
Marcus felt himself approaching orgasm within a few minutes, and as his muscles clenched, and bucked, he felt his cock explode with force as he blasted the hose full of seed, and his nipples throbbed the same. The tubes hungrily pumped away his cum, and he saw it enter the pool down below, the gold mixing in and raising the surface level visibly. Exhausted, he felt the musky air weigh heavily on him, and before he knew it he sunk into unconsciousness…
The next thing he knew, an indiscriminate time later, Marcus came to. He was still strung up, but the hoses had been retracted and his cock and nipples hung free, unerect. The air smelled clean and fresh, and he could see natural light filtering in from above through a new chasm in the ceiling of the cavern. Circe was descending on a platform suspended by more chains through the hole, sat upon her throne. He quickly glanced round at his men, and saw they were also untethered from the milking hoses, but still drugged and asleep. Circe strode past him as her dais reached the ground, and called out ‘It seems including you in the main milking pool speeded up the process: I can now open the doorway fully. I must thank you Marcus, you have indeed been helpful.’
Circe stopped in front of the doorway, and began to chant, her voice rising in a crescendo, as words elongated into howls. With a flourish she drove her staff into the ground in front of her, and grasped the purple gem atop it with both hands. Winds began to howl as she wailed, and lightning crackled around her. From the pool, the swirling cum was drawn along channels cut into the ground, and glowing with its own light began to rise upward into the rock around the door. Circe seemed to become lost in her spell, and Marcus watched as the pool rapidly emptied, the cum outlining a larger doorway shape in the rock. Realising this was his best chance, whilst she was distracted, Marcus turned his attention to his men. He strained at his chains, feeling them react and tighten. However, now at least his cock was free, and that was the source of his power. Focusing his mind, Marcus felt his cock get hard, and erect, rising up his abs and nuzzling the underside of his pecs. Panting with the exertion, he angled his body as best he could whilst restricted by the chains, and let loose, his orgasm sending cum spurting upwards, splashing his pecs, but also arcing high over his head with sheer momentum from his cannon of a cock. He bucked and shook, spraying his seed everywhere. As he intended, some landed on the bodies of his men, the golden seed searing their skin. As his orgasm subsided, Marcus was crestfallen to see them not react in any way. The cum simply dripped down their bodies, running in thick rivulets. However, on Sextus and Lucius, Marcus saw the liquid seemingly seep into their skin, and their bodies quaked. Their cocks grew erect, and pointed upwards, inching up their washboard abs. As they reached their fully hard state, both men woke up, groggily looking around, and pulling their chains tight. He caught their eyes, imploring them to keep still with a stare, and with them now awake, attempted to focus his mind to grow their bodies. He could feel the fresh connection his god-seed had created with them, and a residual knowledge of each of their bodies from his reworking of them in the past. What differed from the rest of these men was the extra element, the direct blessing of each of them by a god in person.
In response to his mental probing, Marcus could feel the touch of Mars about Sextus, similar to his own, a masculine, dominating and alpha aura whereas that of Lucius, via Antinous, had a younger, more gentle energy but which burned with sexuality and lust. Marcus mentally reached out, and willed the two men’s bodies to swell with muscle, stretch in height and width, and flood the tense chains with power. Grunting with the effort, he was relieved to see both Sextus and Lucius begin to tense their bodies, reacting to his command. The growth was slow at first, the magical properties of Circe’s chains inhibiting Marcus’ power, but against the divine powers within the men it proved to be of less use. As their bodies inflated with muscle, their cocks began to grow erect and point upright, smearing precum on the underside of their pecs. Sextus and Lucius began to buck and jerk their limbs, and as their wrists thickened the metal appeared to be straining in the manacles.
With a groan of twisted metal, the wrist manacles broke first on Lucius, as his arms, honed by years of javelin and Mars’ and Antinous’ blessing, thickened and coursed with veiny muscle, striations running along his forearm and up to his tensing biceps and triceps. Sextus’ arms weren’t too far behind, and no longer strung up at the arms, they had flopped forward, dangling head first, held by only the ankle manacles. Marcus redoubled his focus, and the two men grew taller yet, and their calves, already diamond shaped, gained the proportions necessary to bust the metal. With a rather unceremonious drop to the floor, the two men got to their feet, standing near 7 feet tall, and shook out their sore limbs, flexing the newly grown muscles. Circe was still lost in her spell, but now the doorway had started to glow with purple light, and arcs of lightning leapt from it outwards. Sextus and Lucius used brute strength to rip open the manacles of the other men, including Marcus, and set about trying to revive the others. Marcus felt his uniform materialise around him, and he drew his sword, advancing on the sorceress. Behind him, his men, as they came to, advanced in formation, the newly woken ones groggy with the remnants of drugged sleep but now fired with adrenaline.
However, a howl echoed down through the cavern as the wind screeched and the lightning crackled. Just as Marcus might have been able to swing his sword at her, he was knocked sidewards by a gigantic, shaggy beast which had leapt at him. Protecting his head with one hand and swinging his sword with the other, he drove back the onslaught of teeth and claws until he could get a clearer look at what was attacking him. Growling as it prowled was an oversized lion, with patchy fur, standing nearly 6ft at the shoulder. Purple bone structures had mutated its face, and its eyes glistened with a fiery light. It pounced again, and Marcus threw an arm above his face to protect himself as he was knocked to the floor. The lion bit down at him, but its teeth could not dent his sword. The weight of the beast took his breath away, and Marcus had to wrestle and strain to keep the gnashing muzzle off his face. The struggle was only relieved when Lucius’ glowing spear pierced the beast’s brain right between its eyes, and Marcus shifted the dead weight off of his body. Standing up, he could see each of his men also battling with demon beasts—Sextus was facing an ape-like thing, whilst Neall had a gigantic snake attempting to wrap itself around his lower body. Castor and Pollux had successfully dispatched Circe’s six-tusked elephant, and were now coming to the aid of Aidan and Siphes, under attack from a whole menagerie of creatures. Lucius pulled his commander to his feet, and the two shared a fast battlefield kiss, before Marcus pointed in the direction of the others. ‘Help them, and I’ll stop her!’
Once again Marcus was approaching Circe, when the ground began to shake and rumble. Out of the door way strode a figure so dark and black all light seemed to be sucked towards it. Circe raised her eyes to meet it, and stumbled in her chant. The figure became more defined as it left the gateway, to be mis-shapen humanoid, with odd proportioned arms to legs, but horrifically muscular, more so than even Marcus and his god-blessed body. Purple leathery skin encased angry, striated muscle, bulging and burning with heat as the demon reared up to its full 7-foot height. It raised its arms towards Circe and hailed her, with a voice that rumbled like an earthquake.
‘You have opened the gateway, Sorceress. I am manifest without a host, and we are a million strong. Widen the gateway, and let my army through!’
Circe glanced over her shoulder and noticed Marcus. She took one hand off the crystal and gestured at him, and he was thrown backwards.
‘My thanks to you, Marcus, for it was your men’s seed that made this possible—all of this!’ She cackled. ‘The demons can manifest their own forms in this realm with no need for hosts thanks to the power contained within, and I have control over all of them. You’ve met my animal friends I see—well, I doubt you’ll get on so well against my demon army when you’re too busy orgasming to death!’
Taking her sceptre out of the ground, she waved it at the Romans. As one, each of the men, who were beginning to regroup with most of the animal demons slain, dropped to the ground, their cocks standing like erect monoliths above them, cumming and cumming. Marcus felt his body wracked with sensation, a loss of control, as his cock tore through his tunic and under clothes, and his whole body shook like he was having a seizure. There was no pleasure in this, and he gasped with the intensity of the pain. His cock and balls felt like they were exploding with his godseed, and he could not refrain from groaning deeply.
Circe turned back to the demon leader, and pointed out her sceptre at him. ‘Hail me as your Queen, demon, and I will unleash your army upon the world!’
But the figure snarled angrily, and took a step toward her.
‘Chaos knows no mistress, you foolish bitch,’ and swung with a spiny fist for her head. She dodged, and the demon snarled again, and in the space of a second had grabbed her by the neck with his other hand. She struggled and spat and writhed, but the demon just tightened his grip, and the sorceress’ body fell limp. With her death, the spell over the men ended, and Marcus was able to sit upright in time to see the demon leader cast the body aside, and ram the sceptre back into the ground. The purple crystal shone, and a flood of new shapes began to emerge from the gateway. Like a black wave, they swarmed outwards, too densely packed to pick individual shapes, until the foremost unfurled bat like wings and took off, revealing more muscular humanoid shapes. Spiralling around, they made for the opening in the ceiling of the cavern and flew off into the sky. The leader roared with elation, and from his back unfolded the largest set of wings of any of the creatures, and sprang up into the torrent, flying away as the flood continued out of the gateway without interruption.
Marcus staggered upright, his whole body sore and spasming from the throes of the deadly orgasm, and with stars swimming before his eyes, leapt for the sceptre. Touching the shaft however brought him to the attention of the demon swarm, and individual winged figures peeled away from the spiralling cloud to swoop down and attack him. As claws and beaks and talons ravaged his uniform, tearing the cloak to shreds, he persevered until he was able to wrench the sceptre from where it had been crudely rammed back into the ground, and swung it at his assailants. The screeching intensified, as the light from the crystal flickered and faltered. Marcus wrapped his large fist round it and crushed it, slivers cracking and falling to the ground. The gateway now shut, rather than shining with light it became solid rock again, and the swarm of demons was cut off. However, those that had made it into the cavern now coalesced on the Romans, who had backed into a huddle, standing back to back with their swords and shields bared. Marcus weighed up their chances and exchanged a look with Sextus, recognising the concern visible on his face too. As the demons divebombed and pounced, he prayed aloud to Mars, begging for his help.
Just as the men were about to be overwhelmed, a golden light descended from the sky through the cavern opening and surrounded the men in a thick fog. Marcus relaxed, relieved their god had heard his prayer, as the cavern and demon swarm dissolved around them, and they were carried to safety.
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