Magic numbers

by YellowJester   

When everything your roommate says starts coming true, math class can get a lot more fun.

Conner was strangely quiet as we walked to class. Normally my roommate was the talkative kind, always spouting another joke or telling me drama about some person I had never heard of. Yet as we made our way out of the dorm and walked along with the recently mowed lawn to our 9:00 a.m. calculus class, he seemed oddly careful with his words.

“Yay, another class with Professor Zeller,” I said sarcastically trying to bring him into a more conversational mood. The tenured professor who taught our first class was notorious for being as dull as he was old and he was practically decrepit.

“I don’t know,” Conner said, perking up a bit. “I am kind of excited for class, Professor Zeller is so hot.”

I let out a laugh at that, “Oh yeah, does his arthritis turns you on, or is it the wrinkles?” I asked incredulously.

Conner ignored my jab. “He’s such a silver fox. I heard he used to be a model.” The statement was obviously ridiculous—the only thing Zeller could model was adult diapers. Yet for some reason, Conner’s words struck true. I had heard that rumor as well. And I guess Professor Zeller was kind of hot. No, that was wrong. Professor Zeller was like a million years old, yet as I pictured the professor in my mind he did not appear a million years old. He had that sexy salt-and-pepper stubble a wide strong jaw, and his sleeves did seem to always be on the verge of ripping open.

“Well, he’s still boring as shit,” I said, still wrestling with the conflicting memories of the professor.

“It helps that he teaches naked. That body makes even math interesting,” Conner said sincerely, and for the faintest of seconds, his blue eyes seemed to glow.

This was obviously a joke on Conner’s part, but the more I thought about it I had never seen the professor with clothing on… “Yeah, it is rather weird he does that.”

“No one minds,” Conner retorted. I didn’t mind and I guess I had never heard anyone say anything about the professor, but I still felt somehow off about the whole thing.

My contemplation was interrupted as we reached our calculus class and were greeted by the professor himself in all his naked glory. Conner was right about the man being smoking hot. A handsome face with high cheekbones a strong brow and a wide cleft chin sat on top of a strong thick neck. His body matched the godly face, all hard muscles, and smooth curves. Nearly completely hairless, except for well-trimmed pubes and a few silver hairs on his voluptuous pecs.

“Nice dick, Professor,” Conner casually said as they entered the classroom. It was true the Professor had a truly massive dick, the thickness of a soda can and the length of three—it was no wonder the man never wore clothing. Still, as we made our way up to their seats in the back of the lecture hall I lightly tapped Conner on the back.

“You shouldn’t say stuff like that to a Professor.”

“Come on, man. Professor Zeller loves when we give him compliments and touch his body.”

That was true, I guess. I vaguely recalled the first day of class when he had us all touch his dick and squeeze his muscles as a way to break the ice. Still, it felt wrong for students and professors to have that kind of relationship, even if it was Professor Zeller. As I got my books out of my bag I heard Conner mutter something under his breath, and I could swear his eyes were glowing once again.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Oh nothing,” he said as the rest of the students filed in. It was strange that the lecture of 100+ students was all-male, seeing as our college was co-ed, but I suppose women had better things to do than learning about trigonometry and ogling Professor Zeller’s sausage. As class officially began Zeller walked to the front board, his dick swinging as he took long powerful strides.

“Alrighty, class, today we will be learning about—” He was cut off as Conner raised his hand. Normally Conner and I tried to go unnoticed never volunteering unless required, so I couldn’t imagine what Conner had to say thirty seconds into class.

The very last thing I expected to come out of his mouth was, “Professor, you forgot to have us all strip like always!”—and even more shocking was that he was right. I guess it was part of some sort of advanced new teaching technique; Professor Zeller had a strict no clothing policy. Grumbles went around the room as boys unbuttoned shirts and unzipped pants, thinking the hunky professor had forgotten this for once.

“Thank you for reminding me, Conner. Clothing off, everyone. I’m not about to be chilly up here alone.” Once the class was showing as much skin as he was Professor Zeller began class. Today he was drawing triangles on the board and although his perky ass and wide back kept my eyes at the front I absorbed precious little of the material.

“Bets on how many people participate in class,” I whispered to Conner. Despite Zeller’s good looks and unorthodox teaching style no one ever wanted to participate, too busy looking at his dick or covering up their own to raise their hands, leading to a lot of awkward silences eventually filled by Walter Mare, the class nerd.

“With the rewards Professor Zeller gives out, I bet everyone will be dying to participate,” Conner said. And just as he predicted when Professor Zeller turned around and asked a question, his cock swinging every boy stuck a hand straight in the air. What rewards? I thought to myself. Looking around the results were right in front of me. Where a few seconds ago I could have sworn the boys around me were all in various shapes from skinny to flabby, now every single exposed stomach was ribbed with abs. All 100+ boys in the room were distinctly muscular… which made sense of course. Professor Zeller’s classes were the most popular in the school seeing as though some unknown force a right answer to one of his questions made you a little bit more like the Professor. More muscular, more handsome, and a bigger penis. Men would go into his class typical college students and leave as campus heartthrobs.

I suddenly recalled the whole reason I had majored in math was just for the chance to become a Zeller man. I frantically flipped through my notes. I had notes? To try to find the answer to the question I now desperately wanted to share. The knowledge I accumulated through copious studying with Conner in an attempt to garner our professor’s favor suddenly hit me and I knew the answer, joining the rest of the class in raising a muscular arm to the sky. In a sea of bulging biceps and vascular forearms mine looked like most of the others—so far this year I had answered six questions for Professor Zeller, earning me six steps as we called them. This had caused my body to inflate to fitness model levels, lean but able to fill out a shirt when I wore one that is. That’s not the only thing that steps get a Zeller man: my face along with those of my peers was enhanced with each right answer, growing handsome to match the hunky bodies. Walters’s arms stood out in a sea of muscular arms—his twenty-four right answers had warped his body into that of a professional bodybuilder.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Conner muttering something under his breath but I was far too busy trying to make eye contact with my professor to hear what he said, desperate to earn a few more steps before the semester ended. To my surprise, my eyes did meet with the awe-inspiring hunk and my name was called out much to the chagrin of my classmates.

“The answer is 3.7!” I blurted out in my Zeller-deepened voice. He nodded once approvingly and continued his lecture although I zoned out, far more interested in the familiar buzz that now filled my system as the changes started. My joints cracked and popped as my legs and spine lengthened adding another inch of height. I could feel my jaw becoming a little sharper, my hair becoming shinier and my teeth a little whiter. Every muscle in my body flexed tensed, as around ten pounds of muscle appeared on my flesh. Flexing my bicep, I could see it was distinctly bigger, graduating from baseball size to softball size.

That wasn’t the only thing that had grown. Along with all my muscles my dick was also standing at attention, longer and harder than it ever had been before. As I reached the climax of reward I reached a different sort of climax, the enhanced balls pumping hot spunk all over my deep six-pack.

This was not atypical for recipients of a Zeller reward and so no one had any qualms as I stood up to go clean myself off in the bathroom. Some students had turned around in their chairs to watch the transformation but most had returned their full attention to Professor Zeller, eager to answer his next question. As I walked out the door I was surprised to see Conner had followed me.

“What’s up, bro?” I asked as we entered the men’s bathroom directly next to the classroom.

“Just wanted to help my boyfriend clean up,” he replied with a cheeky grin. God, he was hot, that crooked Zeller-enhanced face and those dimples made my dick rise anew. I couldn’t believe my bombshell roommate was also my boyfriend. My heart practically hurt from the love that swelled in my chest for him.

“How does it feel that your boyfriend is bigger than you now?” I asked, juggling my pecs up and down, which thanks to my right answer were now larger than my Conner’s.

“It’s not fair that you’re so good at calculus. You make Walter Mare look like a 5th grader,” he whined. My gaze was locked on my boyfriend and this time I was sure I saw an unmistakable glow that seemed to emanate from inside his head as he spoke. I didn’t have time to process that anomaly as my senses were bombarded by all sides. My brain expanding and filling with math knowledge was overwhelming enough but the retroactive rewards from all the correct answers my new math brain had produced nearly knocked me off my feet.

I gritted my teeth and groaned as my bones cracked and lengthened, my hands and feet growing several sizes to support my now 6’6” body. My muscles previously dense on my smaller frame stretched out to evenly distribute themselves across my taller frame giving me the body of a basketball player. This was swiftly remedied as the muscles gifted by Zeller packed onto my body.

It was as if I were being blown up by a pump, I could only watch in the bathroom mirror as I blew up, every muscle on my body swelling. My shoulders widened and my wrist trimmed giving me a back shaped like an upside-down chrisms tree. My pecs blew up and squared out forming a shelf over my now deep 8-pack. My thighs met as they muscled up the; skin so tight that I could see every fiber and vein.

As the transformation finished I flexed my arms and maneuvered my face into a seductive smolder. I was now nearly as big as Professor Zeller and just as handsome. Frankly, I looked like his son, as every part of me had been mixed and enhanced with the best of him. A true Zeller man.

As my memory shifted Conner too grew, although not as much as me, my now-encyclopedic knowledge of calculus having been used to tutor him and earn him a few more steps. He planted his pillowy lips on mine having to get on the tips of his toes to reach with my enhanced height.

“Fuck me,” he whispered into my mouth. He needed no supernatural powers to make it happen. My much longer cock and bigger balls were dying to pleasure my boyfriend and with more ferocity than I knew I possessed, I grabbed Conner, bending him over and inserting my dick in one fluid motion into his self-lubing ass. It was only then that I noticed Professor Zeller in the bathroom doorway watching his students fuck with a hand on his hip and a disapproving look on his face.

“Come join us, professor, you know you want to,” Conner urged. “Besides, we both got perfect exam scores and that is a reward isn’t it.” That was the rumor anyway—Zeller made his tests so hard that a perfect score was rare but according to campus legend those who achieved the impossible got the ultimate reward for it. Continuing to pound Conner, I noticed that Zeller’s disapproving glare had turned into a hungry smirk and that his dick was rock hard.

“Anything for my star pupils,” he said walking up behind me and caressing my muscled back and arms. He gave my bubble butt a solid squeeze before he stuck his massive cock in. If I was any normal person his member would likely have killed me, but thankfully my enhancements had made me able to take his monster, if just barely. He instinctively joined the rhythm I was already keeping, his force only driving my dick deeper into Conner.

Zeller never came back to the class that day, the grunts and moans coming from the bathroom making it clear to the students why. Although some were upset they had lost their opportunities for a reward, most were instead jealous of the private lesson Conner and I were getting, resolving to study extra hard for the final exam.

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