Description Matt’s life changes forever when he receives divine investiture from an old fertility god, fallen from the pantheon, in exchange for his devotion and cooperation in finding more followers. At first it sounded like work, but soon he’s having too much fun to care.
|Updated||29 Jun 2019|
Matt slowly opened his eyes, and stared at the familiar grey stucco ceiling above him. He sprawled out on his double bed, sheets covering him up to the waist. He felt wonderful. The warm sea breeze blew lazily in through his balcony door, which he always left slightly ajar, and he smiled contentedly. He and his best friend Gareth had been living in Rio de Janeiro for about a year and a half now. They had settled in quite nicely, into a small apartment a few blocks’ walk from the beach. Their seed funds ran out pretty quick; Matt got a job at one of the more prestigious hotels, and Gareth got a job at a health spa as a masseur. Matt was an avid worker and, thriving on independence since leaving LA (and his unbearable parents) was now one of the front-of-house managers.
Matt rolled over and glanced at his clock. It took his tired eyes a while to focus on the blaring red numbers, but eventually he read the time as a quarter to nine. He wasn’t due in to work until two this afternoon, and he knew Gareth had already gone to work. He stretched his body out contentedly, and laughed softly as he looked down at the tenting in the cotton boxers he slept in. He jumped out of bed and grabbed his phone, putting on some generic downtempo electronic music before shucking his boxers and jumping back into bed. Feeling that familiar tingling in his stomach he got when he was horny, he grabbed his cock and started stroking.
Considering Matt wasn’t much for sports, he thought his body looked pretty good. Obviously there were things he would change if he could, but his five foot seven frame carried fairly well. He had sandy brown hair, green eyes, nice lips, and a slim-to-average build. Despite being fairly short, he had nice calves, of which he was rather proud. He ran his left hand up his chest while he stroked, then down over his stomach and inner thigh. His cock was about seven inches, a bit thin for his liking but not bad, and he had a tight ass. He ran his hand down and around, rubbing the rim of his hole while he stroked. Images flashed through his mind of men he had always found attractive, some of the football team, his old swimming coach, one of the bellboys he worked with at the hotel, but his mind often wandered back to Gareth. Gareth knew Matt was gay, and while they goofed around and teased and smacked and grappled each other, Matt always sort of wished it’d go further. Gareth was tall, about six foot four, with broad shoulders and a defined torso, well muscled arms, a trim waist, a strong jaw and a piercing gaze. He was stunning, with raven hair and blue eyes, and an even complexion—Matt always thought he had this mysterious regal Romani look to him, which didn’t turn only Matt on but almost anyone he tried to chat up as well—he could be quite disarming when he turned it on. Matt thought about Gareth holding him close to his chest, locked in place with those big strong arms, as he leaned down, Matt losing himself in the icy pools of Gareth’s eyes, and kissing him hungrily. Suddenly he tensed up, and thick volleys of cum spurted onto his chest.
Strolling through the lobby and greeting some of his co-workers, Matt stood at the front desk and put himself in the frame of mind that would get him through the next ten hours. Matt liked his job; he enjoyed making people happy and solving crises as they arose, and whenever he got bored, there were always plenty of gorgeous Brazilian and Japanese guys to check out. He coasted along for the first half of his shift, until about quarter past seven when he had a fairly important account to welcome in, that he had been instructed to handle personally. All he really knew was that this guest had money to burn, and in management’s opinion it should be burnt here and nowhere else.
Well, I hope he’s ready for the ass-kissing of a lifetime Matt thought to himself as he strode up to the front desk. As if on cue, a large and distinguished looking man crossed the lobby. Matt gave the stranger the up-and-down as walked towards him. He was incredibly attractive, but there was more to it than that. He had a sort of presence, majesty almost, an air of confidence and wisdom. Matt guessed him to be early forties. He had short, reddish brown hair, and a five-o’clock shadow in the same shade, framing his full mouth and strong jaw. As he moved down, he saw that the man’s short-sleeved black shirt struggled to contain his chest, which was, to say the least, built. It appeared the sleeves were having the same trouble with his arms, his muscles large even though relaxed, with strong forearms, that same reddish brown hair noticeably covering them. He was going to go lower but couldn’t because it was obscured by the front desk, as the man was now standing directly in front of him. Matt gasped and felt himself going bright red in embarrassment, realising how obvious he had been. But if the man had noticed, he certainly didn’t say anything. Matt did his best to shrug it off, with middling success, and put on his brightest smile. He had to look up at him to meet his eyes, putting him at just over six foot.
“I have a booking thankyou, for three days, in one of your apartment suites.” The enigmatic stranger’s voice was deep, and resonated in his chest. He had a faint but incredibly sexy Norwegian accent. Matt stuttered as his stomach started to feel tingly again.
“O-Of course sir,” he said as he pulled out the booking registrar and flipped it open, tracing down with his finger until—”Mr. Jal is it? It just says Jal here…” The man winced.
“It’s pronounced Yaal. But yes, that’s me. Is the room ready?” Despite mispronouncing his name, the man didn’t seem to be offended, just amiably polite.
“Of course sir! Follow me—I’ll have someone bring your luggage up.” The burly Viking half smiled and followed Matt out from his desk as he walked towards the elevator, signalling at one of the bellboys. As his colleague scurried after the suitcases the valet was minding, Matt pushed the button and the two stood in silence waiting for the elevator. In the polished brushed-bronze doors of the elevator, Matt could see the man, Jal, in full again. His black t-shirt obscured the waistband of his jeans, but he looked to have a nice solid stomach to match that barrel chest. He also appeared to have very strong thighs (and the ass to match, he guessed), judging by how tight the denim of his Levis was pulled. Matt was tentatively moving his eyes upward to the man’s crotch when he heard a ‘ding’ and he snapped his eyes back up.
The two men walked into the elevator, and as the doors closed Matt turned towards Jal with a smile. “The penthouse suite is breathtaking if I do say so myself sir, I’m sure you will enjoy staying there. It’s also quite spacious. Are you expecting any other guests or is it just yourself?”
“Just me, for now at least. I have no one travelling with me if that’s what you mean,” Jal said, without turning. Matt was incredibly thankful he decided to wear briefs today, since this gorgeous stud’s voice had him at half-mast already. Matt hoped that the combination of the briefs and his suit jacket would obscure the bulge.
“Very good sir,” he said with a smile. “Ah, here we are.”
With another ‘ding’ the elevator slowed and stopped at the top floor, opening into a lavish but short hallway that extended left and right, to the hotel’s two largest suites. They both tried to walk out at the same time, and Matt could have sworn he felt a strong hand brush against his ass, but rather than falter in his step he deftly turned left, brandishing a key on a gold tag from his coat pocket. “The key to your room, Mr. Jal,” Matt said with a smile.
“Actually it’s just Jal, but don’t worry about it. Just call me Jal,” he said in that same polite tone. This was frustrating Matt a little since he could read nothing from Jal’s tone at all, but at least he was being nice.
“Certainly si-I mean, Jal. Sorry, force of habit,” Matt said with a small laugh. Jal smiled at this, laughing a little himself, then opened the door to the suite and walked in, Matt in toe, who was feeling a little relieved that the mood had lightened.
“Over here is your room and ensuite bathroom, with spa. There is also the lounge and entertaining area, dining and balcony,” Matt said, gesturing to the respective parts of the suite. After Jal said nothing, Matt decided he should probably leave his guest to settle in, hopefully seeing him later. “Well sir I hope everything is to your liking,” Matt said genially, “And if you need anything, anything at all, call front desk and ask for me. My name is Matt.” He lingered on this a little, attempting to be suggestive but not offensive. Jal nodded, and smiled to himself as Matt walked out.
Matt yawned sleepily, staring at that oh-so-familiar popcorn stucco. His shift last night had finished without any hiccups, unfortunately though also without any word from Jal. Now there’s a room service call I wouldn’t have minded taking he thought to himself, chuckling, as he stretched and got up, walking out to the kitchen.
“He lives!” Matt heard a voice say as he turned the corner and walked into the kitchen, the tiles cold under his feet. As Matt grunted in reply, Gareth grinned at him while he stood at the stove cooking breakfast, wearing just boxers and socks. Matt rubbed his eyes sleepily and drank some water to get rid of his morning breath. “How was your shift?” Gareth asked.
“Yeah it was okay,” he said through a yawn, “same old same old. This really hot guy checked in to one of the penthouse suites though. Alone. I think he felt up my ass.”
“Haha! Ever the dickhound I see,” Gareth said with a grin. Matt couldn’t help but smile along with Gareth when he grinned; it lit up his face. When Gareth grinned he did so with this mischievous look, and got tiny dimples on the edges of his mouth. He knew he could get away with anything when he grinned like that, and Matt couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ohhh fuck off. But not until you finish making breakfast,” Matt said as he hugged Gareth a big thankyou around his waist. Matt knew he could get away with this. Anyone close to him knew that Gareth may look like a dudebro, but really he was just a big teddy bear. Gareth just smiled to himself and went on cooking.
Gareth and Matt decided to make the most of the morning they had off work together, and walked the few blocks from their apartment building towards the vast expanse of beach that dominates Rio. While Gareth would run off to swim, (And probably try to pick up, Matt thought), Matt was more interested in building on his tan. As they picked a spot to set down, however, something seemed to distract Gareth other than the beach barbies Baywatch-running all over the place. As he followed Gareth’s gaze, he saw, walking towards them, a large man of about six foot with hair a reminiscent shade of reddish brown…
“Fuck! That’s the guy I told you about from last night!” Matt hissed at Gareth, who sat next to Matt, almost gawking. The Norseman was bare-chested, wearing board shorts and expensive looking sunglasses. Matt was amazed. Jal was glistening with beaded water; the russet hair on his chest, stomach, arms and legs was slick against his skin. His shoulders were strong and pronounced, he could see those gorgeous big arms in full view now and though relaxed, his heavy muscles still had obviously defined curves. His pecs were meaty looking and stuck out about two inches from his chest. Matt noticed that he had guessed right about Jal’s stomach. You could take a sledgehammer to that musclegut and not make a dent, he thought. His board shorts were wet and clung to his body, and Matt could not help but stare as Jal came closer. The bulge in his crotch was obscene. Matt could see why Gareth had stared. Jal was quite obviously not wearing anything under his board shorts, although Matt had to wonder if he could have had he wanted to. He saw the outline of a cock thicker than his wrist, about six inches long, that arced over two billiard balls. Matt was then struck with the thought that if that was his package coming out of the cold ocean… Holy shit! As Matt attempted to compose himself Jal walked up nonplussed.
“Hello Matt, how are you this morning?” asked Jal. His rich voice started deep in his chest, and projected even when speaking normally. He could probably shout across city blocks. Matt squinted up at him, the sun in his eyes.
“Oh yeah good thanks, what about you? Settling into your room okay?”
“Oh yes, I’m quite well. And the room is fine thankyou. Although if you’re on tonight, would please stop by, as there are a few things I would like to discuss with you? Anytime is fine.” With this he smiled at both men and walked off, presumably towards the hotel, only a few blocks away. As Matt watched the gorgeous stud walk off (he was right about the ass, like two hams wrestling each other), his reverie was interrupted by Gareth elbowing him in the ribs.
“Jesus Matt you weren’t kidding! I can see why that would make your evening huh!” he said half laughing. “But hey, I reckon you’re in, man, why else would he ask you up to his room,” he said winking, “although I’d think twice after seeing that package. Christ, I would like to see you come back home alive the next day!” Matt was only half listening. He was a bit dazed still over what he had seen and what had just happened. And what would happen when he started work this afternoon!
Despite being understandably distracted, Matt still had a nice morning at the beach with Gareth, and then got ready and headed off to work. He waited until he knew things would die down a bit, then around nine decided to leave the front desk in favour of one of the receptionists, and headed on over to the service elevator. A bellboy was waiting with a room service trolley. They both got in the elevator and pushed the top floor button
“On whose account is this?” Matt asked.
“Mr. Jal’s sir.”
“Ah, well then let me take it. His account is very important to the hotel. In fact, could you please inform me whenever requests are made so I can fulfil them personally, if I’m here.”
“Sure thing sir, I will let everyone know,” the bellboy said cheerfully and he ducked out of the elevator before the doors closed. The tingly feeling in his stomach had started again and after what seemed like forever he reached the top floor. Matt rapped sharply on the door to Jal’s penthouse. The Norseman opened the door, wearing some casual clothes, and smiled.
“Ah, hello Matt, I’m glad you came. And I see you’ve even brought my dinner,” he chuckled. Matt smiled and wheeled the trolley through into the penthouse. The balcony door was open and the cool sea breeze was gently blowing the curtains. There was soft music lulling in the background, and the whole scene made Matt feel very comfortable.
“Firstly I’d like to apologise if I seemed rude yesterday… it was not my intention. This was only supposed to be a stop over on my journey,” Jal explained as he closed the door. Matt stopped the trolley just short of the dining area and turned around towards the direction the hypnotizing voice was coming from.
“Oh no that’s fine,” Matt said with a giggle and a grin, until—”Oh, was it? Will you be staying longer?”
The Norseman grinned broadly, confident and sexy. “Perhaps. I may have found something that warrants a slight extension on my booking.” Matt must have looked confused, because Jal started to laugh, a deep chesty laugh that made Matt smile. You could win anyone over with that laugh. “Haha, don’t worry yourself, you’ll understand in time,” he said with a knowing smile, and walked up to Matt until they were just inches away from each other.
Matt sighed in relief as Jal pulled him close with huge arms wrapped around his waist, and kissed him deeply. Even if Matt had wanted to object, Jal’s left arm had him in a vice grip, and all he could do was return the kiss as Jal’s free hand moved around behind him to rub Matt’s ass. “You know you should really get your pants tailored to show that thing off,” Jal said as he broke off the kiss with a devilish grin. Before he could respond, Jal picked him up effortlessly and whisked him off to the king size bed in his room, half throwing him onto it. Matt was still in shock as Jal pounced on him, kissing him ravenously as he undid Matt’s jacket, shirt and pants. As Matt lay on the bed in his briefs, Jal sat up grinning. “So I’m guessing I meet with no objections then?” he said with a wink.
Matt’s mouth finally caught up with him. “Pssh, are you crazy? I wanted to jump you the moment I saw you,” Matt said with a grin, trying to look as impish and rascally as he could. He must have done a good job of it—Jal grinned and ripped his black t-shirt off, quite literally. The torn shirt fell to the floor as Matt watched in awe at this beastman kneeling over him. He was the sexiest thing Matt had ever seen. Dense chest hair covered those huge pecs, running in a messy trail down his thick stomach to disappear under the waistline of his jeans. Jal leaned down and grabbed him, rolling over so that Jal was lying down and Matt was straddling his midsection. There was that grin again, and Matt nearly lost it. Overcome with lust, Matt kissed Jal hard, and while his hands made short work of the giant’s jeans Matt moved down his chest slowly, kissing, tentatively biting one of his nipples. Jal moaned and moved his hips up so Matt could tear his jeans off, and Matt’s jaw dropped.
The boxer briefs Jal wore were stretched to bursting, a huge fist sized cockhead sticking out the top. As Matt worked up the courage to pull them down, he slowly saw Jal’s bestial looking dick come into full view. Fuck! Matt thought to himself, it’s thicker than a fucking beer can. It lay heavily against his stomach past his navel, close to a foot long, with two huge balls hanging down to rest on the bed. Matt’s fear was soon overcome with intense desire as he dove onto Jal’s huge cock, shoving as much of the juicy head into his mouth as he could, and working the fat shaft with both hands. Jal growled like an animal, and moved his strong hands up to Matt’s head, pushing him further down onto his dick. Matt was overcome, this guy was the hottest thing he had ever seen and now he was getting his face fucked by his massive tool. Matt’s hands worked fiercely up and down Jal’s uncut cock while Jal started to thrust his hips in rhythm. After a few minutes Jal’s huge balls slowly fought gravity and drew up under that thick shaft. Jal held Matt’s head in place with an inescapable grip, and Matt greedily swallowed Jal’s huge load as it pumped into his mouth. After what seemed like forever, Matt had sucked him dry, and as Jal let him go Matt came up panting. As Matt tried to catch his breath, Jal lay there with a look of satisfaction mixed with contemplation.
“Not bad, kid,” he said with a grin, “You may make a wise investment after all.” Matt cocked an eyebrow, but before he could enquire as to what Jal meant, he felt overcome with tiredness, and slumped over, sliding off the Norseman and resting on the bed, asleep.
Vivid images plagued his dreams. Flashes of his childhood, of Gareth, of familiar things but also incongruously spliced with other scenes. It was like watching two movies at once. He saw great battles, a great expanse of light, beautiful figures dressed decadently in the most amazing clothes he had ever seen. Suddenly he woke with a start, disoriented. He saw Jal sitting in one of the armchairs in the room, still naked, that obscene slab of meat hanging between his legs reminding Matt what had happened.
“Good Morning,” the Norseman said, smiling.
Matt’s stomach dropped out from under him. “Oh fuck. I’ll be sacked!” He glanced at the clock; it was half past ten in the morning. Jal just laughed.
“Don’t worry yourself boy, it’s not an issue. I told management you were showing me around the city. All I had to do was flash a wad of cash in their direction and they pretty much shut up.” Matt sighed with relief. He knew he wouldn’t get in trouble if his bosses were kept happy. “How did you sleep?” Jal asked with an expression that made Matt think he knew more than he was letting on.
“Fine,” he said warily, “I dreamt a lot though… why do you ask? And what did you mean last night about me being an investment?” Matt enquired. Jal gave a hearty laugh.
“Yes, well, I suppose I should get down to why I asked you up here in the first place… other than wanting to fuck your gorgeous mouth that is,” he said with a mischievous wink. Matt couldn’t help but smile at this. Jal took a deep breath, and seemed to consider his words before he started. “You have suffered in your life haven’t you. I have looked into your memories. You have a kind soul, and a sharp mind. I have found you worthy of my empathy.” Matt looked quizzically at him but didn’t say anything. “And as such, you are also worthy of certain… gifts, that I am in a position to offer.” He reached under the chair he was sitting in, and pulled out a box, about the size of a shoebox. It was wooden, intricately carved and inlaid with gold and bone. Jal opened it solemnly, and took out something shiny that Matt couldn’t make out right away. Jal then shut the box, replaced it, and threw the shiny object towards Matt. Matt watched as this thing, whatever it was, gently bounced onto the bed and rolled towards him. He picked it up curiously, realising that it was an apple. A golden apple. His confused expression was obviously what Jal was waiting for, as he continued to explain.
“Are you a religious man, Matt?” Matt shrugged, trying to focus on the question rather than the apple that shouldn’t exist.
“Uh, umm… I don’t know.”
“Well let me instead ask you this. What would you think if I told you that I was a god?” Jal asked sombrely. Matt was a little taken aback at this.
“Umm… I suppose if I believed you, I would ask what on earth you were doing here,” Matt managed to stammer out. He couldn’t decide whether Jal was a nutcase or a prankster, but either way he certainly wasn’t going to rock the boat, considering Jal could crush him in a second. Jal smiled knowingly.
“Allow me to explain. Most mortals cannot comprehend the ramifications of faith. Heaven’s pantheon has a multitude of deities from many faiths dwelling within it. That is how it always was, until about the ninth century. Now, as you probably know, gods are immortal once they come into being. No surprise there. However, just as you require food, air and water to survive, gods need faith. At the risk of sounding bitter the Holy Roman Empire has a lot to answer for, that and the slow spread of the Abrahamic faiths across the world. Heaven’s pantheon is not nearly as full as it used to be. The rest of us were basically kicked out about eight hundred years ago, the European ones anyway, when people finally rejected the old ways in favour of the Church state,” Jal said.
Matt listened, interested, but was obviously sceptical. Jal continued. “At this point you probably consider me to be insane. But I ask you, how is faith different from any other form of energy? When our flow of faith dried up, we did not disappear, we just fell from on high without the energy to sustain our radiance. A thousand years ago, the Norse called me Freyr. God of Plenty, patron god of Rain, Harvest and Fertility. I have been on this earth for eight hundred years now, as I lack the faith to reclaim my place in the heavens. Since I don’t have burly Norseman feasting in my name anymore, I am earthbound.” There was a noticeable tone of sadness in the man’s voice. Matt almost believed him, he sounded so sincere.
“Okay, Jal. Or Freyr. Or whatever. Why should I believe you? Can you in any way prove you’re telling the truth?” Matt asked, in a pointed tone.
Jal seemed to be expecting a question like this. “Well, obviously I don’t have my once magnificent powers, but I can certainly still hold my own,” he said with a commanding tone, twitching his pecs. Matt shrank back, wondering if he had been a little too cocky. Jal stood up and strode out of the room, coming back with an orange and a glass of water. With a solemn but indignant look on his face, he placed the glass of water down on the floor, and the orange on top of it, sitting on the rim of the glass. Jal sat back down, relaxed (Matt couldn’t help notice that huge cock of his flop over the edge of his seat) and stared at the orange. Matt watched in awe as it began to decompose in front of his eyes. The orange discoloured, collapsed and fell with a splosh into the water at the bottom of the glass. After a few seconds, a small shoot appeared and grew astonishingly fast, absorbing the water and the rotting fruit it sprang from. Soon enough, Matt was looking at an orange tree sapling about a foot high, growing out of a water glass. Jal looked at him smugly. “I do so enjoy proving people wrong. Do you believe me now?” he said triumphantly. Matt just stared.
“How did you do that?” Matt asked in a tiny voice.
“As I just said, I’m a fallen god. Sure, I can’t create earth shattering tempests or instant oaken forests anymore, but faith is a pretty powerful thing. There are still a few followers of the old ways scattered around the place, and relics from the old world of course. A craftsman spending months carving a frieze or weaving a tapestry creates a kind of faith battery, so I’ve invested a lot in conservation as you might expect,” Jal explained, returning to his calm explanatory tone. Matt just sat there on the bed, naked and dumbfounded. His mind was having a hard time processing any of this information. He had just witnessed the impossible, let alone being told a brief history of the heavens and the fact that gods did in fact exist. But one question still rang in his mind.
“Okay, so what does all this have to do with me?” Matt asked dazedly. Jal gestured to the golden apple Matt forgot he was holding.
“That, my dear boy, is a Golden Apple from the tree tended to by one of the Aesir, Idunn. You couldn’t eat it even if you wanted to, but I can give you a sliver. You won’t be truly immortal, though you won’t age or fall ill while in service to me, and while your powers will be nothing compared to mine, they will still be ample.”
Matt breathed deeply. “Why? Why are you giving me this? How does this in any way benefit you?”
Jal smiled. “Faith, of course. You have a good soul, and could do with a good turn I think. I grant you this gift, and in return you worship me. It’s really quite simple.” Matt thought about this, and honestly it did seem to make sense to him. It’s not as if he really had to do anything, accepting this gift in itself would bolster his faith, so believing in him would be the easiest thing in the world. After all, he was sitting only a few feet away.
Matt shrugged to himself. Why think about it, he thought to himself, if it works it works, if it doesn’t it doesn’t. Overthinking this will probably just give me a headache anyway. He walked over to Jal and returned the apple; Jal shaved off a sliver, and Matt chewed and swallowed.
Matt woke up slowly, seeing the familiar ceiling of his bedroom above him. He felt troubled. Was it all a dream? he thought to himself as he stretched. It seemed so real… He glanced at his clock. Then did a double take. It was ten in the morning, but it was Friday. He had been asleep for at least two days, and he couldn’t even remember what happened on Wednesday, or if he even had woken up in Jal’s penthouse. He got up and walked down the hall to Gareth’s room, and fell into bed next to him.
Gareth moaned and rolled over, opening his eyes sleepily. “Oh, you’re up, I’m glad. If you were still asleep this morning I was going to call an ambulance,” Gareth said, smiling.
“What happened?” Matt asked confusedly.
“You got back on Wednesday around two-ish saying you felt sick, and went to bed straight after. I called the hotel and told them you wouldn’t be in. I assumed it was a stomach bug or something because you had a light fever, and you were out like a light. Figured you’d probably just sleep it off. Are you feeling better?” Gareth asked.
Matt thought about this. Okay, so there are still about four hours of Wednesday I’m missing. And I’ve been asleep for thirty-two hours. Bastard probably drugged me. Gareth stretched out and sat up. “I better get ready for work,” he said resentfully. Matt nodded and got up, and went to have a shower while Gareth had breakfast. Matt pulled off his boxers and was about to jump into the shower when something caught his eye in the mirror. Was it just his imagination, or did he look a little different? Only tiny things, his lips looked a little fuller, his cheekbones a little sharper, his eyes a little brighter, but he was convinced they had changed. Or maybe he was just really well-rested. He shrugged to himself and got in the shower, feeling the tension slide out of him as the hot water slid down his skin.
As he soaped himself down, he felt a familiar tingly feeling in his stomach, and another familiar feeling stirring in his cock. He half laughed to himself. Wow, knocked out for two days and the first thing I do is jerk off, he thought. He got his cock all lathered up and started working it. He had always wished his cock was a bit thicker, but it never really bothered him that much. After a few minutes he was about to cum, but sensed something was amiss. His cock felt… swollen. He looked down and let out a yelp of surprise, as he saw his cock getting slowly thicker. It was filling out just as he had always dreamed; slowing down and stopping at what he guessed was about two inches wide. Matt stood, the water running down his body, staring at his cock. He grabbed it, and it was real. Not only was it real, but this sent him over the edge and torrents of hot sticky cum shot onto the shower wall.
As Matt revelled in the ecstasy of the most satisfying orgasm he’d ever had, his mind was also wondering why on earth this had happened. Could it be…? No, of course not, he thought, trying to put Jal out of his mind, It must have been a hallucination or something from whatever I was sick with. Matt got out of the shower, towelled off, and decided to go to work despite not being on shift today to make sure he still had a job. As he pulled his briefs up, he stole a look down. His cock was still thicker. Matt let out a happy giggle and kept getting dressed, almost skipping off to work. He had no idea what the hell was going on, but he shoved it to one side to focus on work.
“Feeling better?” asked Michelle, the hotel’s other concierge. He assumed she was filling in for him while he was sick as well has doing her own shifts.
“Yeah, thanks hun,” Matt said with a smile, and Michelle laughed.
“No problem, it went down pretty well with the boss since thanks to you that rich European guy is staying another week. I dunno what you did but it certainly worked! What did you do, blow him?” Michelle laughed. Matt went red and almost instantly, and Michelle’s eyes widened. “You’re shitting me!” she exclaimed, and Matt cracked a smile and burst out laughing. “Oh you fucker, I almost believed you,” she laughed, and Matt tried to hide his relief. “Oh that reminds me, there’s an envelope for you in your pigeon hole.” With this Michelle turned to serve a guest, and Matt walked into the back office to check his mail. He filtered through the boring memos, and his attention eventually turned to an unmarked envelope, sealed with wax. Matt opened it, curious, and inside was a simple note.
It wasn’t a dream. Are you pleased?
Matt gasped. He pocketed the note and found himself back at the service elevator, pushing the bell for the top floor. His mind was going a mile a minute. After an agonisingly long time he reached the top floor, and knocked on Jal’s door. He was met with silence. Matt knocked again, harder, continuously. As Jal opened the door Matt almost fell into the room, and he walked briskly into the penthouse. Jal closed the door and turned to face his guest, smiling. He was wearing a bathrobe, but he was dry. “I thought you might come back,” he said. Matt didn’t know where to begin.
“What the hell is going on?!” was all he could manage. Jal chuckled to himself.
“Don’t you remember? I’d like to think I’m not that forgettable,” he said with a wink, allowing his bathrobe to fall open. Jal’s fat cock swung like a pendulum between his legs. Matt gawked, then strode up to him and tied his robe shut.
“Stop trying to distract me! I want answers! Did you drug me? Why the fuck was I asleep for two days? Where are the four hours I can’t remember? Who the fuck are you, really?!” Matt was almost hysterical. Jal remained calm and composed.
“I told you, young one. I used to be called Freyr. I go by Jal since the fall. No, I did not drug you. You managed, I assume, to get home before succumbing to the torpor required for my gift to change you. If you can’t remember I suppose it’s akin to being blackout drunk,” Jal said nonchalantly. Matt calmed down, and fell into one of the lounge chairs. The Norseman strode up and stood in front of him. “Does that answer your questions?”
“Some of them,” Matt said breathlessly, “I’m just a bit in shock, I guess. This is still far too outlandish for me to get my head around. Okay, so you were—are—a god. All right. And I am now a god’s vassal, blessed with longevity and apparently other stuff to boot. What the hell do I do now?”
Jal laughed. “I suppose that’s up to you. Being a god’s retainer has its advantages you know. What will you do, well, that depends. We could always just fuck for the rest of eternity, as long as it’s in my name,” Jal mused with a wink, laughing at his own joke and flashing a cheeky grin. “But there are other matters to attend to. You of course may have your own retinue. I don’t expect you spend all these years alone. You may grant limited power in others, and sustain their life as long as you have yours. This works for me too, since when you grant them gifts they channel faith. Consider yourself a head priest if you will.” Matt considered this. The first person to jump into his head was Gareth. He couldn’t bear to live forever and have to watch Gareth grow old and die. He was extremely relieved to find that he didn’t have to.
“Of course, there is a larger motivation. One does grow tired of the mortal world. I am trying to find the other Aesir and my fellow Vanir cast out of the heavens,” Jal said gravely.
Matt looked up at this. Part of him was basically thinking What the fuck!? The rest at this stage was thinking a little more logically. “So you can try and get back into the heavens?”
Jal’s eyes lit up. “Exactly! If I can find the other Aesir and Vanir and we build up enough of a following, we will have enough faith to reclaim our place in heaven’s pantheon. This is why I have chosen you, and of course others, to give gifts to those you see as worthy and punish those you wrong you.” Jal beamed a smile at him, and Matt thought this was probably the most open he had seen Jal. Matt smiled back.
“Okay. This feels like one of those ‘the more I know the more I realise I know nothing’ type situations, so I might as well just accept it.” He sighed, then his face blanched and eyes widened. “What gifts do I have?”
“I think you have discovered one of them already,” Jal said, smirking. Matt blushed. “Haha, well I did say I was the god of Fertility as well didn’t I? Although that’s not what was at play here. You can augment your physical form as you like. You are, after all, immortal-by-proxy, so you might as well be happy with your body. More specifically as a retainer of mine, you have limited control over the weather, nature, and of course, the physical form of others—the latter is a trait my twin sister and I share, but the former two are just mine.” Jal said all this very matter-of-factly.
“O-okay,” Matt stammered, shaking a little. “How does it work?”
“Just concentrate. With practice it will become much easier. Eventually your powers will just become an extension of your will. Try it.” Jal stood patiently in front of Matt, who was still sitting in the lounge chair. Matt held up his arm and looked at it. There were always a few rogue freckles on his forearm that he didn’t much like; they would suit as a test he supposed. He concentrated on them, and they flickered a little, but stubbornly remained. My will, huh. Hmm… Matt imagined them slowly fading, rather than just disappearing; like he’d had some kind of cosmetic treatment to remove them. And as Jal had said, they soon faded away to leave a perfect complexion. Matt’s eyes boggled. It seemed he’d have to lend some mental context to what he wanted, at least for now.
Jal laughed a deep, booming laugh. Matt managed to stutter a thankyou. “I believe the gift was justified. I’m going to have a bath. Join me if you like, or test out your powers a bit more.” Without waiting for an answer the heavenly stud walked towards the bedroom, shedding the bathrobe as he went; Matt stared at the man’s huge musclebutt until he was out of sight. Matt sat down and breathed deeply, and laughed hard at how ridiculous the situation was. He grinned, thinking about his new powers, and soon decided to try some of that ‘augmenting’ as Jal had put it. There was a full length mirror on the wall behind the dining setting. Matt stripped off and went to stand in front of it. Hmm, he thought, let’s see how vanity pays off then.
Matt looked like a dyed-in-the-wool bottom boy, a look he’d always played up when going out. His tastes were much more varied, but it baited the hook. It wasn’t entirely a pose though; he definitely loved to get fucked, and his bottom side was a hopeless size queen. Jal already thought he was cute, but Matt was determined to make himself look irresistible for his new master. He had managed to work on his face unconsciously, as he had noticed this morning. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, then got to work, and concentrated.
He pictured a slightly different adolescence, imagined he never quit gymnastics in high school, the images interrupted with a fair amount of porn. His five-foot seven frame grew to stop at five eight. He squared his shoulders off a bit, and bulked his torso and arms, but kept them tight. His skin became slightly paler, and a bit more even. His waist tapered off to join his hips with a faint Adonis belt. His already tight ass plumped up significantly, his thighs thickening. He looked pale and rangy, like an alpine hunter. Wiry musculature, but with the big ass he’d always wanted. He couldn’t help but picture a few of the morph artists that dominated his tumblr feed, and he felt his hole wink in response.
He dug a few fingers into his considerable bubble butt, feeling for his hole. At his touch, he felt it grow a little, smooth and puffy; he stuck a few fingers in and marvelled at how it was both tight and very pliable at the same time. Could I…? he thought to himself, slowly pushing his whole fist into his eager hole. His knees went week as intense pleasure flooded his body. He slid his fist out, fingers lingering on the slightly puffy lips, and noticed his hand was slick with a clear odourless substance. No way! he thought. He’d always wished he could self-lube so he could get to the fun stuff faster, and it seemed fantasies were just as effective as plausible events when using his new powers.
Finally his eyes rested on his crotch. Matt had got hard over his own body, and smiled slyly. His hard cock lengthened, finishing at eight inches long, egg-sized nuts hanging behind. Matt grinned. He couldn’t wait to have Jal fuck him with that insane looking tool of his. Matt felt that tingly feeling in his stomach rise up again as he almost ran into the bathroom to see Jal looking at him expectantly from the spa. His smug expression fell when Matt entered.
“Wow… you look… so you got the hang of it then?” he laughed, and Matt could see the spark of lust in his eyes. Matt grinned, feeling triumphant in his goal.
“I think so huh! What do you think?” Matt turned around slowly in a full circle. Jal breathed in and whistled.
“What do I think? I think I’m going to fuck you until you pass out, is what I think!” he said with a fiendish grin. Matt smiled triumphantly and jumped into the spa, straddling Jal’s hips as he lay against the edge, kissing him hungrily. It seemed to Matt that Jal’s defences were finally down now that he had succeeded in his goal, and could feel it when he kissed him, as Jal seemed to be giving in to his physical nature just as much as Matt was himself. Jal was already rock hard from admiring Matt’s new and improved physique, and it was driving Matt crazy feeling that massive cock rub against him.
Matt broke the kiss off and whispered intensely into Jal’s ear, “Fuck me…” Jal picked Matt up in his huge strong arms, carried him to the bedroom and leapt onto the bed with him. Soon the sheets were soaked with suds and bathwater but neither of them cared as animal lust consumed them. Jal pinned Matt down on his back by the shoulders. Matt grinned and lifted his legs up to rest on Jal’s shoulders, and Jal’ started rubbing the huge head of his thick cock against Matt’s eager asshole. Matt moaned as he felt the massive head massage warm precum into it. Before he could think, Jal was easing his meat into Matt’s ass. Matt drew in breath sharply as the sensation was overwhelming. He unhooked his left leg from Jal’s shoulder and, with a look of surprise on Jal’s face, used it to push Jal’s hips forward.
Suddenly he was in to the hilt, and Matt moaned loudly. Jal’s eyes flashed and he grinned widely at his new toy. Wow, this boy is just full of surprises, he thought to himself as he started to thrust slowly but deeply, feeling Matt’s beefy asshole massage his meat. Matt was in throes of ecstasy already, taking in the sensation. The massively long and thick cock thrusting in and out of him, the feeling of Jal’s huge balls slapping against his big butt, the big strong hands holding him down at the shoulders…Matt was in heaven. Slowly Jal increased his speed, and drew his head back, closing his eyes. He thrust rhythmically, deep, and hard, his pelvis moving like it was hinged. Matt was beyond reason, he was so overcome with pleasure. He sighed and shuddered, opening his eyes and focusing on the gorgeous stallion fucking him. Jal looked down and smirked, his torso lifting back so he was upright on his knees, his arms holding Matt by the ankles. Jal started to thrust deeper now that he was upright, and Matt groaned loudly. After what seemed like hours, although no matter how long it was it wouldn’t be long enough, Matt thought, Jal let out a loud resonant moan from his barrel chest and started thrusting slower but harder. Matt smiled inwardly and clenched his hole tight. Jal’s breathing became faster and soon he let out a roar and thrust, deep and hard. Matt’s eyes watered as he felt Jal pumping a huge load into his ass; the sensation was incredible, there must have been pints of the stuff. Without touching his cock he soon exploded himself. They both collapsed, panting and sticky with sweat and cum. Matt dozed off, his whole body tingling, full and satisfied.
Matt’s eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling. It took a while for him to realise where he was, but soon remembered he was in Jal’s penthouse, and the amazing events of the night before. He felt content and happy, but also amazingly buzzed with excitement, thinking about what the future would be like. Jal rolled over sleepily and grabbed Matt around the waist, pulling him close like a teddy bear. Matt smiled to himself, and Jal kissed him on the forehead. “Morning. Told you I’d fuck you until you passed out,” he said with a sleepy grin.
“Hey, I don’t think I was the only one who passed out mister,” Matt said, laughing a little, and Jal smiled.
“True, now that I wasn’t expecting. You’re just full of surprises aren’t you? I must have missed the dickpig section of your memories when I was scoping you out,” he said, and Matt laughed. Matt went to get up but found he couldn’t, as Jal’s arm grabbed him again by the waist. “Oh no you don’t,” he said, and pulled him back, spooning him close. Matt sighed contentedly. He was about to fall asleep again when his thoughts turned to Gareth. Will Gareth believe all this? Will he even want to stay with me if I give him the option? Do I stay in Rio? Do I leave with Jal to wherever he is going?
“You’re worried, aren’t you…?” Jal said softly. Even softly his voice was deep and resonant. Matt nodded. “Is it to do with that handsome young man I saw you with at the beach?” Matt nodded again.
“He’s been my best friend for years. He’s the only person in this world that still means something to me. And while I appreciate the gift you’ve given me, I can’t imagine eternity will be worth anything if I don’t have my best friend.”
“Hmm,” Jal said thoughtfully, “I can understand that. True friends are hard to find. I have loved ones I miss too.” Matt rolled over looking surprised.
“Of course! My sister Freya and the rest of the Vanir, the Aesir too. They weren’t just gods, they were my family.” Matt thought about this, as he hadn’t considered it. Despite his hard, rugged exterior, it was probably exponentially harder for Jal considering he probably hadn’t seen any of his family in centuries.
“What did you do? Didn’t you look for them?” Matt asked.
“Of course. It wasn’t as organised as you would think. When we fell, we fell. Scattered everywhere, and not all at the same time. If I see some of my kindred I would recognise them, but it’s rare. At that time all I could really do was search the north European isles, which was where I wound up. Which was lucky, since that was where I was best known. But travelling wasn’t exactly easy. So I slept, quite simply, for a few centuries, waking up every so often to ‘keep the lights on’ as it were with a few mystery cults and the odd miracle, until transport was easier. I woke up about two hundred years ago, and since then have built up my following a bit, but I have no leads to go on. The others have to be still alive obviously, but if they are in hiding as I was for all those years, they will be next to impossible to find even for me.” There was lament in his voice.
“Well,” Matt started, “I will help you then. I realise I probably can’t help all that much…but I want to.” Matt smiled warmly, and Jal laughed.
“Thanks. If I have to search the world it’d be nice to have someone handy to fuck,” Jal said, and winked.
Matt laughed; glad the mood had lightened a bit. “So do I need to keep my job then?”
“I’m god of the harvest, what do you think? In the last hundred years I’ve developed farming concerns all over the world. The reason I was stopping in Rio was because I’m going to Brasilia to buy some failing coffee plantations on the cheap, which will then suddenly become ludicrously productive. Money is no object, believe me.”
“So basically,” Matt thought out loud, “My life now comprises of hunting down the old Norse gods, and fun.” Jal laughed.
“Yeah, pretty much. All my other vassals are in Europe and America; the ones I trust I use primarily to oversee business. They have their own little followings, and as a result I’m a lot stronger than I was when I woke up. You’d be amazed at how devoted some men will be to help if you grant them a huge cock,” he said laughing. “You weren’t planned, or strategic. You’re the first one I’ve chosen to be just for me.” They both smiled.
After breakfast and a much-needed shower, Matt decided he had better head home and see if he could convince Gareth to join him on whatever this adventure ended up being. It was early evening when Matt unlocked the door to his apartment, and Gareth was at the stove cooking dinner.
“Oh you’re home where have you—Jesus!” As Gareth turned and caught sight of Matt he dropped the whisk he was holding onto the floor. His jaw almost went with it. “What the hell? You look…What the hell?” Matt walked up to the bar that separated the kitchen and the lounge, sitting down on one of the stools. Gareth stared at him. “I know it’s you Matt. But you look… I can’t explain it! You still look like you but like you’re an extra on Vikings. Mixed with…” Gareth peered around at the twin globes of Matt’s pronounced butt. “…Folsom“.
Matt smiled knowingly to himself. “I know. And I can explain. It’s important.” Matt ushered Gareth into the lounge and sat opposite him. Matt slowly explained the whole story; what had happened over the last few days, about Jal, the apple, Jal’s history and the heavens. He decided to leave out the mind-blowing sex part. By the end, Gareth was pale and shaking.
“Forgive me if I’m having some trouble processing this… I mean, I know you better than anyone, so I know you wouldn’t make this up. But it can’t possibly be true. So I’m sort of struggling here. Are you okay? Are you… have you been on something?” he said softly, with a strained expression.
Matt wasn’t quite sure what to do. “I’m the first to admit it sounds outlandish… umm… because well… it does. But when you think about it objectively it sort of makes sense! I mean who’s to say what happens to all those thoughts we have and then move on from?” Matt said in a gentle tone. Gareth looked at him wide-eyed.
“Matt. Are you okay? I… this is… I don’t…” Gareth sighed heavily. “Okay,” he continued, “so let’s say I look at this objectively. Theoretically it makes a kind of sense, I suppose. But what possible evidence can you present me that would back this up? Yeah, you look a bit different but maybe it’s been happening slowly for months and I just haven’t been paying attention. So are you going to grow an orange for me?”
Matt faltered, because to be quite honest, he hadn’t thought this far ahead. What had Jal said he could do? Alter his own form of course… but other than that… there was rain, harvest, and fertility. Matt tried to assess these variables in his mind… and one thing jumped to mind that made Matt go bright red and giggle.
“Why are you laughing?” Gareth’s face fell to a stern and serious look. “If you’re laughing because this is a joke, I am going to be so fucking mad at you,” he said, and Matt knew that tone. He was serious. Thankfully, Matt regained his composure and began to concentrate.
“Okay. There is… one thing I think I can do. But, I’ve only been in this situation for two days. So I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. Still want me to try and give you a demonstration?”
Gareth considered this. “Umm…Yes. Yes I do.” Gareth’s face set resolute.
Okay. Matt breathed deep and tried to clear his mind. I hope this works, Matt thought to himself. He was winging it, in a very big way. He closed his eyes, and tried to picture what he was trying to create. Lord knows he had seen it plenty of times when he’d jerked off in the last few years. He pictured Gareth, in his boxers and socks. He loved seeing him that way. He pictured the boxers growing strained… and Gareth looking down, a grin on his face. He willed the boxers gone, and envisioned Gareth standing there in only socks, a big grin on his face, and where his boxers were… A gasp snatched him from his reverie.
“Whoah! What the fuck!?” Matt opened his eyes, and Gareth was standing up in the middle of the lounge. He looked at Matt bug eyed, and got his pants off as fast as he could. He looked down with a maniacal expression, part fear part fascination. Matt followed his gaze, racked with uncertainty, and was relieved when he saw that his rather unorthodox demonstration had gone as planned. Gareth’s cock was growing! Matt had seen Gareth naked before. After all, they had been best friends for a number of years. Gareth had a big cock, even for someone of his stature. Soft he usually hung about six inches down, with a pair of goose egg sized balls hanging down about the same. Matt had never seen Gareth hard, but he guessed it had tapered off about nine inches. And at least two inches thick. It was always pretty thick soft anyway. He was uncut, and had a bulbous cockhead that made Matt thirsty to think about. Matt couldn’t help but think his passion may have caused things to get a little… out of hand?
Matt had already fallen in lust with Gareth’s body. Now he was given control over the one part he’d been denied, and he was certainly having fun. Matt’s eyes lit up as Gareth’s cock snaked down his inner thigh like some obscene anaconda. From what he saw while Gareth was shocked into stillness, his gorgeous cock was growing thicker and thicker, longer and longer, his balls growing fatter and hanging lower. Matt was achingly hard in his pants, and he very nearly came as he saw Gareth’s cock twitch, and slowly winch up like a crane. His obscene slab of meat was slowly throbbing, inflating. Matt guessed it to be about fourteen inches long and it was only half mast, already as thick as a coffee mug. Matt’s eyes fell upon the cockhead of his dreams, it had swelled up to the size of an orange, a reddish purple. It looked positively succulent, and Matt’s mouth was watering. Gareth remained shell-shocked as he watched his manhood grow out of control. Matt snapped back into awareness, the realisation of what was going on finally hitting him. He wrested his passions back, attempting to stop the flow of his will. As he cleared his mind and focused, the monstrous growth slowed, and ground to a halt, just as Gareth’s manhood had reached full erection. It was massive. Gareth stared agape at this turgid unfamiliar dick sticking out from his pelvis. A still silence blanketed the room. Matt looked at his not-so-on-purpose gift to his best friend. Gareth’s cock stood to full attention, about three and a half inches thick at the base. Like some deadly weapon it stood, flaring bestially out at the head, his foreskin pulled back revealing a cockhead that made Matt’s hole twitch. It was a delicious red-purple, must have been about four inches long, fat and plump. All in all, his enormous member was about a foot and a half long, or so Matt reckoned. His balls hung down to his mid-thigh in a fat sack flecked with hair, each one about the size of a softball. Matt’s guts were tying themselves up in knots he was so fucking horny. The tension finally gave, and Gareth turned a deathly white, passing out.
Matt was aghast! He rushed to his friend’s side, shaking him worriedly. As Gareth’s eyes fluttered slowly open, Matt sighed with relief. He ran to the kitchen and came back bearing a glass of water, which Gareth promptly downed. After regaining his composure, Gareth spoke. “Okay… well that pretty much takes care of that. Err… I think for now I’d rather just not think about it too much, if that’s okay with you. I’m sure we can have long and in-depth theological debates later but for now, I’d like to concentrate on the telephone pole sticking out of my groin.” Gareth stared down towards his crotch, somewhat bemused, as if he didn’t really know what to make of the situation. Looking up, he smiled at Matt. “I appreciate the sentiment, by the way,” he said with a chuckle, “but I hope this is reversible? I can’t really go on with everyday life with this thing stuffed down my pants. And I’ll never get laid again.”
“Ahh… yeah about that,” Matt began, “about the whole golden apple thing? Well… Jal said you could join me.”
Gareth looked at him sharply. “Excuse me? I had forgotten all that… okay. So you’re asking me to eat a golden apple from Idunn’s garden, become immortal, and spend the rest of eternity with you and some burly Norwegian god-stud searching for his family and god knows what else?”
Matt pondered this. Gareth always had a way of putting things rather succinctly. “Pretty much, yeah. You won’t get any apple, though. I think all you have to do is show up. Your stuff comes through me, I think. You wouldn’t have to work, no need to go to the gym unless you want to since you can have your body however you want, travel the world…”
Gareth looked off into the distance, and went to cross his legs, inadvertently resting his right ankle on his left testicle. “Sweet ever-loving fuck!” Gareth quickly righted his mistake, his face a little strained with pain, attempting to get his train of thought back on track. “Well… my job at the moment I guess is just rubbing naked people with more money than me. So it won’t really be hard to give that up. And we don’t really have any ties except each other… so sure I guess, what the hell.”
Matt’s eyes lit up and a huge grin flashed across his face, and he tackled Gareth into a hug. He had the tact to ignore the erection. “Oh, you have no idea how scared I was that you would say no!” Matt was laughing with relief and hugged Gareth tight.
Gareth smiled and laughed. “Yeah, well, I should really keep an eye on you.” They smiled at each other, and hugged close.
Jal heard a knocking at his penthouse door. He smiled cockily as he opened his robe just a little and went to open the door, not really caring who was there. He did love to show off his body. Matt stood there smiling, next to Gareth who looked a bit uneasy. A spark of recognition appeared in both Jal’s and Gareth’s eyes as they remembered the beach scene.
“Ah of course, the handsome young man,” Jal started, breaking the tension. “Do come in, both of you.” Matt and Gareth both walked in and made themselves comfortable on the sofas.
“Jal, this is Gareth, my best friend. I want him to join us.” Jal seemed to be expecting this.
“Of course. The more followers the better! Plus I trust your judgement. Usually I am much more discreet about how many people I reveal myself to, but in this case I don’t mind making an exception.” Gareth looked much more at ease after hearing this. “Of course, there are some rules I set myself that I refuse to overlook,” Jal said gravely, “one of which must be attended to.” Jal walked over to Gareth and stood, saying nothing. After a few seconds he said, “Okay, this pleases me. You have a good soul young man, I can see why you and Matt get on so well.” He smiled, and sat down opposite the two.
Matt couldn’t help but sense an almost smugness in Jal’s smile, as if he just had a hunch confirmed or something. Jal was the first to break the silence. “You haven’t told him have you?” His question was directed at Gareth.
Matt looked at both of them confusedly. “What? What haven’t you told me?”
Gareth looked angrily at Jal. “That is my business. I will tell him in my own time, my own way. This is not a good first impression to make, Jal. I don’t care if you are a god.”
Matt turned to Gareth. “What? Tell me!”
Gareth turned to Matt, looking anxious. “Matt, I never told you this but I guess now I have to… umm… I’m a bit more sexually fluid than you may think.” Gareth almost whispered this last part, and looked up into Matt’s eyes, unsure of what he would find there. Inside Matt was overjoyed, he wanted to scream and shout and kiss his best friend all over. It had always been a guilty, selfish wish of his, to know that if he ever fell in love with Gareth, which he had suspected was on the cards a few times, that it wouldn’t be futile. Outwardly though, Matt knew he had to be supportive.
“So what? Why on earth would you have any reservations in telling me that?”
“Because I love things the way they are… and I thought it might put stress on our friendship, or make our living arrangement difficult… I don’t know. I was scared I guess. Plus I just love things how they are now. I love that we can play around and you can hug me around the waist without any defences or hidden meanings or anything. Home is one of the few places I don’t have to think.” Gareth went quiet after this, looking at his feet.
Matt hugged him, and kissed him on the cheek. “You idiot… that’s not gonna change! We’ll always be us. Whatever happens,” he said with a soft laugh, and poked Gareth gently in the stomach. Gareth grunted, and a smile slowly graced his face.
“Okay… good, I’m glad. Especially since if we’re going to spend the next, well… however many years together I’d rather it be honestly.”
Jal smiled at the two. “I apologise for putting you on the spot like that. If I seemed unfeeling it was not my intention, but I knew that this would be the outcome. Forgive me.” Jal seemed to shed his confident and mischievously amorous exterior and looked genuinely sorry. Matt found this refreshing, it was nice to know that he was truly a person, with his own feelings, regardless of immortality.
The week eventually passed, during which preparations were made. Matt and Gareth both resigned, broke their lease, and basically packed up their lives. Or at least, the parts of their lives that deserved to be kept. Matt had the hardest time of the two. Hotel Management were positively ropeable when they found out that not only was their biggest account of the season leaving, but taking their star concierge with him. Michelle was ecstatic that she was going to be queen bee, but shed her share of tears, as did Matt, when she said goodbye. The day finally arrived, and the boxes and bags were driven, along with their owners, off to the airport. Matt almost fell over when Jal mentioned the words ‘private plane’, and Gareth was certainly feeling a bit more comfortable as the three men sat down on lounge chairs in the very stylish main cabin. As the Jet took off, Brasilia-bound, Gareth needed to walk off some of his anxiety. Matt didn’t seem to mind, as he and Jal hadn’t been alone much the last couple of days.
Gareth was surprised at the size of the jet, which was big enough to accommodate separate (albeit modest) cabins. After peeking through a few doors around the place, Gareth found what he assumed to be his room. All his stuff was in it, and that was good enough for him. The room was nicely furnished, but being on a plane did set some limits. There was a king single bed in an alcove toward the left side of the room and a small desk across from it, against the wall, facing the few windows set into it. There was an astoundingly thin TV mounted to the wall opposite the head of the bed. This combined with Gareth’s possessions comprised the bulk of the room’s contents. There was also a door leading to what he found to be a cramped but serviceable en-suite bathroom. Gareth flopped down onto the single bed, face first, and turned his head to the side. He allowed his mind to catch up with him, and considered some of the thoughts racing around in his head. He’d always had a case-by-case kind of feel for romantic and sexual relationships; more interested in the person, or the moment, or the mood or the body or whatever combination fit at the time. He knew deep down that he didn’t want his relationship with Matt to change. Friends. Friends with flexible physical boundaries, maybe—they weren’t shy of tackling each other or a bit of ass smacking—but still just friends. He honestly couldn’t even really see them sleeping together, the thought had popped into his head on the odd occasion, but it just seemed weird. He’d slept with men, and enjoyed it, sure, but Matt was family. It’d work out, given time (which they apparently had no shortage of).
Gareth thought about what happened in the apartment. Whenever he was anxious he’d usually just rub one out, but he hadn’t in a couple of days what with everything happening so quickly. He was a once a day guy, minimum, but he’d been so distracted his sex drive had just sort of waited patiently outside the door waiting to be let back in. Well, now that things were settled, and he could collect his thoughts in peace and quiet, it refused to be ignored any longer. As his thoughts drifted back to Matt’s admission, he remembered how amazing that huge, hard cock had felt. He hadn’t even gotten any time alone with it before Matt (begrudgingly, it seemed) changed him back. He got up, stripped down, and sprawled back on the king single bed in the small cabin. His feet stuck out past the end, or they would if the wall wasn’t there; as it was he had to bend his knees to lie down comfortably. He was already half hard without thinking. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his right hand reaching down and squeezing the base of his thickening cock, his left cupping and kneading his pecs. He opened his eyes and looked down, half smiling at the mild obstruction his pecs were to his view.
Gareth had played lacrosse and soccer in high school, which is probably when he started enjoying his body and the build team sports had given him. He no longer played, but had been using the gym at Matt’s work for free since they moved, and cycled or jogged if he could rather than driving. He was always a bit too carefree to commit to proper bodybuilding, but he loved the look of it. He’d had a friend back in the states, an ex-roadie turned security guard, that he could call up whenever he had a taste for muscle. He never managed to find someone to push that button after he and Matt moved, and was aching for some big muscle-tits to bury his face in.
While Gareth’s mind was wandering, lazily stroking his now fully hard cock, he began to feel a weight on his chest. His left hand seemed fuller, his nipples a bit larger and more sensitive. He looked down, and saw his pecs growing thicker and fuller, a light layer of fat spreading over his usually cut body, further emphasising the curve of his chest. He could also feel his dick expanding in his right hand, so hard the flesh barely gave when he squeezed it. He felt his balls touch fabric and reached down with his left hand, leaving his chest alone for a moment, to feel them—they were growing too, and hanging lower, two lemon-sized nuts hanging low enough that they rested on the mattress underneath him. He tried to look down to get a better look, but his meaty pecs half-filled his line of sight. Met with this incredibly erotic vew, precum instantly started drooling from his slowly growing cock. Gareth squeezed his huge balls and stroked his slick cock, closing his eyes reflexively then quickly opening them so as not to miss any of the show. His chest felt truly heavy now. None of the rest of his body was growing, so he could only imagine how these huge pecs looked on his otherwise sporty frame. He laughed at the image in his mind, bringing both hands up to knead the growing mounds. God, they were so heavy, it felt so good to work the flesh under his fingers. He bucked his hips as he continued to stroke and cup his big muscle-tits, precum spurting up and onto them, which he proceeded to work in.
He felt something hot on his stomach a few inches above his belly button, and inch its way up towards the thick shelf of flesh dominating his torso. He tried to look down, but couldn’t see below his nipples. His mouth watered at the sight. He reluctantly moved his hands down to see what was going on; while distracted, his cock had continued to grow, not quite as hugely thick as Matt’s apparent taste but just as long, and getting longer. Gareth had an idea. He braced his feet against the wall at the foot of the bed, and hoisted his ass slightly up off the bed, resting his weight on the small of his back. He felt warm flesh press against his taint, his balls hanging down heavy now that they had nothing to rest on. He guessed them to be about softball-sized now, given how much room they were taking up between his thighs. He visualised what he wanted to happen and how it would feel, and moaned when he felt his body respond. His cock grew further, the head now pushing against the underside of his oversized pecs. He pulled his cock down against his body, the huge hot head of his cock pushing the base of his mounding chest muscles apart. As his cock continued to lengthen, and thicken ever so slightly, he felt it slowly force its way through his deep muscle cleavage. He pushed his huge pecs at the sides, sandwiching them together, and looked down, stifling a moan at the sight. He could see his huge cock poking up through his cleavage, angry and red and shiny, piss slit practically pulsing in anticipation of what was to come. Gradually, agonisingly slowly, Gareth tilted his hips slightly upwards.
The feeling was amazing, better than anything he could have hoped for. His cock was slick from the steady flow of precum that was now dripping off his collarbones back onto the pillow. His pecs were huge, mostly muscle but with enough fat to make them big, stocky, imposing man tits. With one hand, Gareth held his cock in its current position, while using the other to work precum over his chest, the flesh becoming slick and shiny. He let go of his cock and held his tits together enough to keep it in place, while still being able to knead the sensitive flesh. Then, very slowly, he started pecfucking himself in earnest. He slowly tilted his hips up and down, trying to lose himself in the sensation as long as he could before giving in. He lifted his head up used his feet to push himself back up the bed just enough to rest his shoulders on the pillow, and leaned down to plant his mouth on the head of his cock. Without thinking he willed it to grow another couple of inches so he wouldn’t have to strain his neck. As he continued to suck on the fat head of his cock, swallow the endless precum streaming out, squeeze his huge tits and pecfuck himself, Gareth lost track of time. Time didn’t matter. It was the hottest sex he’d ever had, and he wasn’t even with someone. He was pulled back to his senses when he felt his huge, heavy balls haul themselves up, and his cock beginning to buck. He began to fuck his chest faster, opening his mouth wide to let the whole head of his huge cock ram its way in. After an eternity, he finally let himself cum. He felt the orgasm through his whole body, his vision unfocussing, so lightheaded he had pins and needles in his extremities. He pushed his cock as far back into his mouth as he could, as a river of cum erupted down his throat. He could feel his huge balls pulsing as pints of cum spurted forth, his whole body buzzing with the intense combination of sensations.
After what seemed like forever, but was probably only a minute or so, the flow died off, and he flopped down on the bed, exhausted.
Matt watched Gareth walk out of the main cabin towards the passenger rooms. He was happy and grateful his best friend was here with them, and excited to see what the future held for them both, and how this would impact their relationship. He was also, however, happy to see him go so he could spend some one-on-one time with his new… god? Husband? Boss? That would need some thought.
“So what do we have to do in Brasilia? Do you have to be there in person to buy this business?” Matt asked, having no idea what he was talking about, but trying to get across things quickly. He wanted to support Jal, which would probably mean being a sounding board sometimes, so he felt that being informed enough to be able to contribute a bit more than a vague ‘oh that sounds awful’ and ‘oh that’s great news’ was mandatory.
“Ordinarily, no,” Jal began, “but it varies from country to country. Think about how old humanity really is; gods rise and fall just like empires do. There are a lot of them around, some older than others, with varying degrees of power. Gods of trade, harvest, contracts and such tend to have the most staying power, since they can just slot themselves into primary industries or the local economy of wherever they landed post-fall, and start accumulating resources. Nature, childbirth and marriage have the cushiest landing by far; there are more local customs than you can shake a stick at with roots in mother goddess worship. People don’t even need to know they’re doing it for the god to get the benefit, it’s still ritual obedience. Smaller pantheons tend to do better, with all the major stuff being spread around only a few gods, so they can get by all right. Now when things get really specific, that’s when there’s a problem.”
“What do you mean?” Matt asked
“Hmm. If I asked you to name me a famous fountain, what’s the first one you can think of?”
Matt paused for a moment. “The Trevi fountain in Rome. It’s also the only one I can think of.”
“Right, that’s what I was expecting. Ever hear of Juturna?”
“Nope. Should I?”
“Juturna was the Roman goddess of fountains. They had gods for everything, and weren’t shy of importing ones from other cultures. Sometimes they had multiple gods for the same domains. She used to be huge, when people got their water from public wells and fountains, but how much love do you think a goddess of fountains can get nowadays? She’s gotten a bit stronger in the last sixty years or so, once tourism became accessible to the middle classes and busloads of people visit the Trevi every day, but that’s probably the best she’s going to get. She owns the top floor of an apartment building two blocks away, and two of the local tour bus companies. That’s all she’s managed to scrape together in seventeen hundred years.” Jal looked pensive.
I am going to have to buy a few books and study up if he’s going to keep dropping names like this, Matt thought. The idea of your livelihood depending on the whims of humanity was an uncomfortable thought; Matt could understand why Jal looked sad and sympathetic. “I can understand that. How does this relate to our trip, though?”
“Oh right, yes.” Jal snapped out of his reverie. “Depending on where you are, some gods are more active than others, with their own power bases. Global trade can be difficult when dozens of other deities have domain over it in different areas. It pays to be respectful, which means going in person. Usually with gifts. Most of the time they just want to make sure you’re not going to try and build a presence on their turf, and steal their followers. Oko and Aje are the ones we need to keep happy for this venture to work.”
Gareth groggily emerged from his room an forty five minutes later, clearly having had a shower, and seemed tired but satisfied. Matt was fairly sure his chest was a bit bigger but didn’t say anything. Gareth couldn’t quite bring himself to shrink entirely back. He was still enjoying a little weight on his chest, subconsciously brushing his hand against the new mass every so often. They buckled up and landed soon after, just before lunch. Jal told them both that his meeting would be after dinner; Matt was required to attend, but Gareth could amuse himself. Without realising it, Gareth’s hand found its way up to his nipple as soon as he heard this, prompting a wry and—knowing?—smile from Jal.
Matt on the other hand was focussed on the fact that they had the whole afternoon to mooch around the hotel, and had a very clear idea of how he wanted to spend the time. They left Gareth lazing by the pool (Yup, they are definitely bigger, Matt thought) and Matt practically dragged Jal up to their rooms.
“Come ooonnnn,” Matt implored as he would stride forward a few meters then stop to wait for Jal to catch up.
“What’s the rush? We have all the time in the world,” Jal said, grinning as he deliberately slowed down a little. This was met with an exasperated ‘Gah!’ from Matt, though he was grinning too, as he strode back and tried to push Jal from behind to speed him up.
“Okay, okay!” Jal said, then about-faced and grappled Matt in a bear hug, lifting him slightly off the floor. Jal then turned and strode down the hallway to the room, Matt squirming ineffectually against his grip, feigning outrage. Jal shifted his grip, keeping hold of the smaller man with one hand, as he used the other to open the suite door, continuing on to the bedroom and letting the door close itself behind them.
Matt was dumped unceremoniously on the bed. He looked up to see Jal standing by the bed, feet apart, fists on hips, with an affectionate but predatory look in his eye. Slowly enough that Matt didn’t notice at first, Jal began to grow taller, broader, only a few inches each way but it was noticeable. He nonchalantly removed his clothes, each garment removed right as his body was about to outgrow it. His hair grew longer, stopping just past the collarbone, thick and wavy. His beard grew out several inches, neat but full. Matt noticed Jal’s shoulders grew wider, the muscle thickening across his back and down his arms. His muscle-gut smoothed out as a thick layer of fat covered his body. His hips widened as his thighs and ass grew phenomenally, his feet growing to offset the shift in his centre of gravity. When he was done, Jal looked quietly powerful, awe-inspiring. Tall, broad and stocky, obviously extremely strong, with the thick bulging musculature that comes from labour rather than vanity. Matt thought he looked partway between a great axe-wielding Viking and a lumberjack. No, the lumberjack’s dad who’s big enough to clip his burly son round the ear. Matt was already naked and completely hard by the time Jal’s transformation was half over.
“Hunh,” Jal grunted as the growth stopped. “It doesn’t have to be that slow but I do enjoy the feeling”. He took two thumping steps towards the bed, his massive thighs fighting for room, having to circle around each other as he walked. Matt lay in the middle of the king size bed, mouth have open, dumbstruck. Jal let out a booming laugh. “Stunned you into silence, have I. This is the form I by far prefer, but it doesn’t hold up to going out in public.” He bent his arms and looked down, balling up his fists, watching the ropes of muscle snake across his massive forearms has he twisted them back and forth. “It feels much more natural.” He relaxed his frame, hips tilting forward a little, his thick musclegut rounding out. He saw Matt’s eyes drop down for a second, and Jal brought a hand down and slapped his gut with a loud thwack. Matt’s eyes darted back up to Jal’s face, blushing a little. “Like this, huh?” Jal teased, grinning down as he bulked his gut up a little further, a real powerlifter gut, with a firm layer of fat smoothing it out. The curve was pronounced now, high and tight from his pecs to his waist. Matt’s mouth watered at his big hairy belly. Jal walked over to the bed.
“Ohh, fuck,” Matt let out as Jal climbed onto the bed on all fours over, the top of where Matt was lying. Jal bent down and kissed him, hungrily, lowering himself down. Matt felt the full weight of the man-mountain on top of him, squeezing half the air out of his lungs, the bed creaking in protest. Jal chuckled through the kiss, and rolled off him onto his side. Matt turned and ran a hand along the big bear, from his collarbone across the huge furry slabs of his chest, along the thick powerful gut, down to his rock hard cock. Shit, thought Matt, he’s even bigger than before. This thought must have registered on his face because Jal couldn’t help but laugh, a proper belly laugh from deep behind his ribs, his chest and stomach bouncing. Matt froze up for an instant it was so loud. Jal opened his eyes and smiled mischievously. “I have an idea.”
To Matt’s surprise, Jal got back up on all fours and spun around, backing up into a sixty-nine position and sinking the smaller man’s cock down his throat in one go. Matt barely had time to register the maneuver before his brain went quiet, getting lost in the sensation. It felt amazing, hot tight and wet. He looked down and was met with an amazing view of Jal’s ass, thighs and taint, his huge balls hanging down and resting on Matt’s sternum, the shadow of his thick gut hanging down behind them. Matt brought his hands up, rubbing up the back of the enormous man’s thighs, kneading his hamstrings and moving up to his huge, beefy butt. He heard Jal moan deep in his chest, and Matt seized his chance.
He’d been staring at Jal’s butt since they first met. He just assumed, based on their first encounter, that this was going to be a strict top/bottom arrangement. He was beyond thrilled that Jal wasn’t so one-note. Matt shoved a few pillows behind his head, bringing his head up, and pressed his face into the man’s huge hairy butt.
Right at that moment Jal pulled up, Matt’s cock slipping from his throat, and let out a deep, resonant, guttural growl. He arched his back and pushed backwards, burying his lovers face in deep. Matt grabbed a hold of the tree trunk thighs either side of him, pulling himself up so he could get in deeper. His tongue pressed broadly against Jal’s welcoming asshole, massaging the muscle before going in deep. Matt stopped listening at that point, partly because all he cared about was making out with the huge ass before him, partly because a combination of pillows and butt-cheek was obscuring his hearing. He pulled on Jal’s thighs to reposition himself slightly, but the hulking giant must have interpreted it as an instruction, because he fell back on his knees and brought himself upright, sitting fully down on Matt’s face.
Most of Jal’s weight was still supported by his legs, but enough was pressing down on Matt that he no longer had to fight for access. Jal rocked slowly back and forth, grinding his ass into Matt’s face. Matt greedily pressed and probed the delicious hole, feeling it slowly relax as he went on, becoming more elastic, allowing Matt to get deeper as he went. Then Matt noticed something start to happen. Jal was growing again.
Jal smiled as he felt his hips widening in line with his huge shoulders, his thighs getting thicker, his fat butt-cheeks getting even bigger. He brought a hand up to knead one of his thick pecs, tweaking his nipple slightly, as he allowed himself to get bottom heavy. His ass was shifting steadily from bear to bubble, still thick, hairy and strong but now much rounder and more malleable. Matt could feel his hands slowly press a little into the huge pillowy cheeks whereas a minute ago he’d barely have made a dent.
The massive man growled, his hole itching for more, as he rode Matt’s face like a saddle. Matt was confused at first, but once he realised what was happening, he redoubled his efforts; Jal’s hole was getting fatter as well. He could feel the slick, warm opening flex and puff up, stretching and swelling out slowly. He could feel the throbbing flesh press against his face, as if begging for him to keep going. Matt worked at a feverish pace, opening his mouth more, slathering every available inch of skin with thick spit, his tongue kneading the sensitive tissue without letting up for a second. He heard a roar, thoroughly muffled, and felt the huge nuts resting on his midsection pull up.
Jal was so close it was agonising. He was tempted to just roll off Matt and shove one of his huge meaty fists up his ass, but was drowning in the rapidly building sensation of Matt worshipping his hole. He could tell Matt was close too, his tenderness had shifted to animalistic passion, slathering at his hole, practically punching his huge asscheeks with his hands has he grasped and kneaded the huge muscle-butt he was buried in. Jal rocked himself back and forth, grinding his huge puffy asshole into Matt’s face, desperate for release.
As Jal’s heavy balls winched themselves up to the base of his massive cock, Matt felt the monster donut hole he was rabidly devouring mash down onto his face. Jal’s thick, bloated butthole was now about the size of a dinner plate, and as Jal ground down onto him, it swallowed his face from eyes to Adam’s apple. Matt immediately came, harder than he could remember, continuing to lick and suck at the dark flesh covering two-thirds of his face. Jal roared, the sudden flood of stimulation finally driving him over the edge, and he came, hard, blasting huge ropes of cum across the end of the bed, floor, and far wall. He reached down and grabbed Matt’s already spurting cock, aiming it towards him, cum soaking his furry chest and belly.
Half a minute later, recovering from the massive orgasm, Jal bent forward onto hands and knees and crawled off his lover. Matt’s face emerged with a wet ‘schlorp’ from Jal’s colossal asshole, flushed red with exertion and slick with spit and sweat. All he could manage was a wordless groan, slowly coming back to his senses as Jal got up from the bed and walked towards the en-suite. Matt looked over at him leaving, breath catching as he saw Jal’s monster butt, thick and prominent with hard muscle and soft fat, hairy cheeks rubbing against one another but fighting for space with the big bloated hole stuffed between them. Matt could now see the result of Jal’s second growth spurt. To accommodate the added bulk, he had grown to about seven feet tall; his broad shoulders more or less lined up with his wide hips, which twisted slightly with each step, his torso countering the movement of his huge legs.
Jal’s knees felt a little weak as he went to the en-suite, relishing the feeling of his oversized asshole rubbing against itself, slick with spit, being massaged by his huge butt as he walked. He wished they could keep going, but they had a meeting to get to.
“Please, take a seat,” the assistant said as she ushered Jal and Matt into a large, chic meeting room. They were about twenty storeys up, the far wall of the room a bank of floor to ceiling windows looking out over the city, lit up bright against the night sky.
“Ana, Caio, so nice to meet you face to face finally. This is my consort, whom I’ve brought as a gesture of trust between us” Jal said as he shook the hands of the two people waiting in the meeting room. Both were tall, statuesque, and looked to be of Spanish-African descent. Ana had a neutral expression, her wavy hair pinned up into a neat bun, and looked like she’d been born in the skirt suit she was wearing. Caio on the other hand, appeared to be wearing his suit under duress. He wore a lapel pin in the shape of a bee. His face was a map of laugh and smile lines; Ana’s was not.
Matt picked up a casual vibe between Jal and Caio, but Ana seemed frosty. “Right, let’s get to it shall we” she began, opening a folio laid out on the table in front of her. “These coffee plantations. They’re regional, and low yield. I can only assume you’re buying small because you don’t want to step on our toes, and I appreciate that. However; there is room to expand in the surrounding area, which would be easy enough to acquire once the farms start performing. Why should I allow you to buy these holdings when we could just as easily restore them ourselves?” Ana folded her hands atop the papers in front of her, locking eyes with Jal, waiting for him to respond.
“Simple,” Jal responded confidently, “because while your friend and I may both be fertility and harvest gods, I also have domain over life and weather, Caio does not—or you would have already blessed them. He can maintain the crop and the harvest cycle, but I can start it anew.”
“Now, to be clear I mean no disrespect,” he added as he saw Caio—formerly Oko—bristle a little, and Ana’s eyes narrow. “I have no intention of any little cult compounds springing up around the property, I am just looking at passive income. I’m sure you can appreciate that; we all use the tricks we have to get by, and these happen to be mine. That’s all.”
Ana seemed to back down a little. He was right, of course—they all did what they could to make the most out what they controlled. Aje (now Ana)’s domain was wealth and trade, and it was no secret that she owned this building, the one next to it, and the top performing financial services firm in the country, to name but a fragment of her vast holdings. Caio on the other hand, ran several expansive farms, more or less in the middle of nowhere, growing herbal supplements. Pygeum, yohimbe, damiana; if there was a plant that helped with sexual potency, he grew it. The difference was that his product worked considerably better than everything else on the market. They both had more money than they’d ever need.
“How about this,” Jal began. “Brazil has the brand recognition for good coffee the world over. I’ll get the farms booming, and commit to keeping the yield in the country until it’s saleable to the consumer. Everything between farm and French press will be handled by a local company. I’ll have your sigil printed on the inside bottom corner of every sack of beans—whenever money changes hands for a shipment, it’ll be in your name. Lastly, I’ll buy enough hives from Caio to service the crop. The project will generate money for me, faith for you, and Caio can use his bees to listen in whenever you like to make sure I’m not trying to build a following. Deal?”
Ana’s eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly; the rest of her face remained still. Matt got the impression she was expecting to have to fight harder to reach a mutually agreeable outcome—perhaps even hoping for good boardroom bloodbath. Her eyebrows lowered and the tiniest crook of the beginning of a smile appeared in the corner of her mouth. “Those terms are acceptable, with one addition; twenty percent of your profit is donated to anti-deforestation charities.”
“Eight,” Jal replied, deadpan.
“Fifteen and I’ll have my firm handle your accounts, the donation can be deducted from your corporate tax.”
“Deal,” Jal said, finally smiling, extending his hand across the table.
Ana looked at his hand, then packed up her folio and stood. “I appreciate you paying the proper respect in our demesne. It’s not as common as you’d think. She turned to leave but then stopped abruptly, her posture straightening and her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “I think you have a phone call,” she said to Jal, tapping Caio on the shoulder and beckoning him to leave with her. “Here,” she said, turning and throwing Jal a set of car keys. Jal caught them one-handed and looked like he was about to respond when Matt saw his forehead crease in confusion, his eyes widening with surprise.
“How?” Jal said to himself. Then, grasping the keys in one hand and grabbing Matt’s forearm with the other, they winked out of existence.
Gareth pulled off his hoodie, unlaced his black docs and slipped off his jeans. The boys were going to dinner after the meeting, so he probably wasn’t going to see them until tomorrow. Jal really brought out the dickpig in Matt, so Gareth wasn’t expecting to see them after they got back. He’d done some digging and found out about a club, supposedly converted from an old church. Fetish industrial crowd, dungeon rooms downstairs and more traditional private rooms above; sounded like fun! He pulled his club outfit out of his duffel bag.
He stood in one of the changing rooms, made to look like an oversized confessional booth (Huh. Cute, he thought) and faced the full length mirror. He had hadn’t made any changes to himself before he arrived, deciding instead to just go with his mood. He stood naked and barefoot in the slightly dimmed light of the dressing room, and sized himself up, deciding what to do. Gareth’s glossy black hair was faded up to a high and tight, which he willed to grow out and scruffy up a little, enough to get a little wavy on top. He let his five o’clock shadow grow out to three day stubble. He scaled his musculature back to a slightly pumped up swimmer’s build, but kept his shoulders a little broad. He assessed his work in the mirror, happy with the handsome Russian prince staring back at him, looking intense but not intimidating. Perfect! he thought to himself, pulling on the rubber jock and matching cuffs he’d brought with him, and stepped back into his boots. Once again he looked in the mirror.
Hmm… needs something… Gareth was normally fairly smooth, which he hated, but women seemed to prefer it. Tonight however, he was only interested in pleasing himself. He watched as a dusting of dark hair spread up his legs and forearms, somewhat thick at first but getting sparser as it spread inward. He twisted his hips to watch it spread over the curves and shelf of his big cyclist butt, petering out just as it reached the small of his back. Turning straight on, he smiled as dark hair spread in a treasure trail up from his waistband, unfolding like birds’ wings at his chest. Now that’s more like it, he thought. His eyes came to rest on the pouch of his rubber jock; it was designed for big guys, and already looked nicely packed with his unaltered junk filling it, but he couldn’t resist. He watched the pouch bulge outwards as his balls grew and his soft dick thickened up. His eyes lit up as he started to see strain lines in the rubber, but stopped with a wince as his balls started to feel crushed. He scaled it back just enough that it was comfortable, and grinned broadly at the smooth, mango-sized bulge, hanging heavy enough that the waistband had gone from a straight line to a slight downward curve. “Fuck yeah,” he said to himself, grabbing his duffel and half-jogging out of the room.
After checking his bag, Gareth headed into the bar. The conversion was extremely well done—the right-hand arcade had been converted into one long bar, the arcade opposite into booths. There were a few standing tables in the nave near the sides, but the centre was empty. It created a striking view all the way along the building to the chancel. Speakers were installed into the chancel screen, thumping with industrial music, and the large cross above had been left to rust. He assumed the DJ booth was behind it where the altar would be, but there was no way to see through. He walked through towards the middle of the building and saw that the crossing and east transept had been made into one big dance floor, the west transept having been converted into a low stage. He saw big thick rings screwed into the large beams over the stage, and guessed they must do shibari or suspension demonstrations or something here, but it was empty at the moment.
He could feel someone watching him, and turned back to the front of the building—the bartender was eyeing him off. Gareth walked over and sat on a bar stool, the cool leather soft against his exposed hairy butt. He looked the bartender in the eye and smiled. “Can I get a beer, please?”
The bartender nodded and turned around, giving Gareth the opportunity to check him out a bit more obviously. The bartender wore black sneakers, tight black jeans, a leather belt and a harness. The harness was interesting, Gareth thought, it was asymmetrical and quite involved; it still followed the lines of his musculature but had a lot more straps and rings than he’d seen. It reminded him of spiderweb, but if the spider had been dosed with caffeine. He had a cute build too, clearly he didn’t live at the gym but went enough to keep some mass on, and his lightly furred stomach pooched out a little. Gareth sat up straight as the bartender turned back around, handing the drink over. His expression was neutral verging on annoyed. “On the house, newbie. Haven’t seen you here before. You respect my house and keep your hands to yourself, and we won’t have a problem. Cool?”
Gareth looked confused and a little affronted. “Yeah man, I know a place like this only works if everyone plays nice. It’s not my first time. We won’t have an issue.” The bartender eyed him warily, but nodded and walked off to serve another patron.
“So what’d you do to piss Zarco off?” someone said behind him.
Gareth spun around on the barstool, and had to look down to meet the speaker’s eyes. “No idea, my friend, but I’m going to have a good night regardless.” Gareth got up from the stool, standing a full foot taller than his new companion. “What’s your name?”
The shorter guy had to tilt his head up considerably to make eye contact with Gareth. He beamed a big puppy dog smile at him. “George. Nice to meetcha”.
“Gareth. Likewise.” Gareth smiled down at the little guy. He wore bright pink Doc Martens with mid-calf black socks, tight black drill shorts and a leather collar. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and had a nuggety build, like a high school wrestler that went on to construction. Compact and strong but not cut. He had thick black hair on his legs, forearms and chest, fading to light fluff on his belly. Gareth inclined his head and asked “What’s your accent? I can’t place it”.
George smiled. “I’d be surprised if you could. I grew up in Australia and spoke Greek at home. It’s a bit all over the place hey,” he laughed. George’s eyes travelled from Gareth’s face down the length of him, eyes visibly widening when he took in the fat bulge that lazily rolled from side to side every time Gareth shifted his weight. “Oh fuck me mate, nice, you a pumper?” he asked with a grin, eyes lit up.
“Something like that,” Gareth replied, gently taking George’s hand and bringing it to his crotch. “Go ahead, I don’t mind.”
George went a little slack-jawed as he felt the warm rubber get pressed into his hand by this sexy stranger. He looked down and marvelled as he hefted Gareth’s bulge in his hand, feeling the weight of it. He brought his other hand over and cupped it in both, giving a gentle squeeze, just to check that it was real. Instead of the pumped up bloat he was expecting, he could clearly feel Gareth’s huge assets shifting inside the pouch. “Holy shit. I mean I’ve had some fuckin’ big fellas in my time but never seen anything like this”. He looked up at Gareth, grin never leaving his face, excitement in his eyes. “Wanna go downstairs?”
Gareth looked down at George in the sling, ankles shackled high, looking up at him with a pleading look. Gareth smiled as he rubbed his lubed-up fingers around George’s hole, massaging the muscle before slipping a few fingers in. George moaned and bucked a little, and Gareth felt the tender hole relax instantly. He slowly worked half his hand in, pulled back, and gradually slid his fist in to the wrist, George whimpering euphorically all the while. Wow, Gareth thought, this guy wasn’t kidding. This is gonna be fun.
Gareth pulled his hand out, made a fist, and slowly began fisting him, twisting his forearm as he went. George might loosen up super quick, but his hole was springy, practically pulling his fist back in as soon as it got halfway. Gareth got down on his knees so he wouldn’t have to slouch. “Tell me one of your fantasies” Gareth said softly. George snapped back to his senses, looking across at Gareth’s face, with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean? I’m having a good time mate don’t worry, you’re workin’ me over like a dream”.
Gareth chuckled to himself. “Good to hear, but come on, everyone has fantasies. I’d like to know yours,” he said, slowly alternating between fists, occasionally slipping the fingers of one hand in while the other was forearm deep.
George moaned. “Ohhh, yeah, okay sure, so long as you don’t stop what you’re doing.” Gareth nodded in assent.
“Secretly, I’ve always wanted to be able to take truly massive toys in my arse. Like, rubber band super stretchy hole, slip in with barely any warmup, feel it up to my ribs. I mean when I find a guy with a real monster I’ll barely let him out of bed, and I have a pretty well stocked toybox, don’t get me wrong, and I train and stuff. But everyone plateaus after a while. I always want to go bigger. I want the hulk to fuck me in half, and I can just roll over afterwards and ask to go again.” Gareth noticed George’s cock get harder as he spoke, and his asshole wink a bit around his forearm. Goddamn, that’s hot, Gareth thought, let’s see what we can do…
Gareth concentrated on George’s body—he’d only ever done this to himself, never tried it on someone else, but if Matt could change other people, maybe he could too? He pictured George’s fantasy in his mind’s eye, imagined him straddling the hulk and taking his monstrous green cock with ease. He imagined him opening a door at his home to a room full of the biggest toys he’d ever seen, gleefully walking over to one and slamming himself straight down onto it on a whim. He imagined himself fucking George in the sling, cock preposterously large, while George screamed in ecstacy.
He heard George moan with pleasure, which pulled him out of his daydream. George’s hole felt different around his forearm, the muscle strong and flexible, the skin pliable. When he pulled his fist out he saw his hand coated in a slick film that reminded him of precum. He noticed a few idealised changes happening too—jaw slightly stronger, skin clearer, frame tighter. His already bubbly butt plumped up big, the fleshy cheeks slick against Gareth’s arm as he pushed back in. Gareth took his other hand and slid it along his forearm, feeling only the tiniest resistance as it passed through George’s hole to meet his other hand. He clasped his hand around his fist, and pushed.
“Ohhhhh fuuuuuuck,” George half cried, half growled. “Ohh god you’re amazing I never open up this fast… “ George closed his eyes, breathing steadily, clearly lost in the sensation of this new stretch. Gareth smiled to himself. George had only seen him in his rubber jock, so had no idea how big his dick would be. Gareth withdrew his fists, met with a faint whine from George, and stood up to take his jock off. As his tackle fell and slapped against his leg, he let it grow significantly, and dropped the jock to the floor. Two tennis ball-sized nuts hung halfway down his thigh, his huge fat cock flopping down over them. Only half hard, it was already thicker than a coke can, hanging down at a forty five degree angle, over a foot long. He cockily walked around the sling to the other end, stopping next to George’s head with his pelvis at his eyeline.
“Holy shit dude,” George yelled as he tilted his head to the side, coming eye to eye with the biggest cock he’d seen in real life. He desperately reached for it and pulled the huge head into his mouth, which he struggled to achieve even at half-mast. “Mfff… mrrffff… “ Gareth took a step back, his dick plopping out of George’s mouth, and leant down. “Sorry what?”
“Fuck me oh god please fuck meee!” George roared up to the ceiling, bucking against the shackles in frustration.
“Are you sure?” Gareth asked in a half teasing tone, “I’m pretty big, can you handle it?”
George couldn’t help but grin at Gareth’s needling. “You bet your fuckin’ arse I can.”
Gareth walked around to the end of the sling, his cock fully hard now. He shoved his fists back into George, getting them slick with his self-lube, and pulled them out to wrap both hands around his cock—he growled to himself when he felt them barely overlap—and made two full strokes back and forth. He reckoned his cockhead would just reach his knee, except it was too hard to force down. He positioned himself behind George. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yeeesss just do itttt,” George yelled in desperation. George felt Gareth position his cock at his slick, stretchy hole, and push. The feeling was overwhelming, a million nerve endings firing at once, the smooth slick hot feeling of being stretched so wide. He felt it work its way into him, deeper and deeper, up to where his biggest dildo reached and then a little further. He was breathing deep, eyes closed, drowning in the feeling, never wanted to forget this. Then he felt the warmth of Gareth’s hips press against his butt. Knowing it was fully in, he let out a loud groan from deep in his chest, wriggling a little to feel the huge cock shift inside of him. Gareth watched George open his eyes and look lovingly up at him, complete satisfaction on his face. Gareth slowly pulled back, until he was about a third out, then pushed back in. George’s eyes rolled back into his head, moaning loudly, wordlessly, his breathing slow, in utter bliss. Gareth grinned and looked down at the base of his hugely fat cock, splitting George’s perfect bubbly cheeks apart, pressing his taint up and out, and stretching his ass beautifully.
Gareth increased his speed, fucking harder, pulling more and more out until he was fucking full strokes from base to cockhead. After each outward movement an incredibly hot ‘schlorp’, then he’d push back in and George’s ass would practically pull him the rest of the way. It felt amazing, like he was being blown and fucking at the same time. George’s ass was so wet and warm and soft, and on every stroke he saw his cock slick and shiny with the smooth viscous lube George’s beautiful butt was producing. Gareth looked down and, on a whim, blew the bottom’s nuts up to around the size of goose eggs, happily watching them flop around, as he thrust back and forth. If George registered the change, he said nothing, continuing to moan and pant while Gareth fucked him senseless. Gareth slouched over a little, wrapping both hands around the base of his cock and, bending his forearms as he went, pushed them along his huge shaft. He felt his hands press up against George’s slick hole, then slip past with little resistance. George moaned as Gareth pushed his hands in further, stopping at the mid-forearm. George felt his hole stretch further, sighing in relief, needing more, and looked down to see both of Gareth’s hands inside him as well as his monstrous dick, effectively jerking his cock off inside him. George started to laugh in amazement, but only managed to moan in staccato. Now, about your fantasy, Gareth thought to himself, smiling, as he prepared for the next step.
Gareth pulled both his arms and his cock slowly out of George, and began to focus. He was just about to start growing again when he heard George yell “Hey!” a split second before feeling a massive thump on the back of his head. Everything went black.
Gareth regained consciousness with a start as ice water doused his face. “I thought I told you to keep your hands to yourself” he heard someone say, his eyes still unfocussed. “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” It took a couple of seconds, but he recognised the bartender’s voice. He felt his hands cuffed behind his back, the cold metal biting into his wrists. Gareth’s vision slowly cleared and he saw the bartender sat opposite him on a folding chair. He could feel the bass of the club through the floor, and guessed they were in one of the private rooms upstairs.
“Whu-what are you talking about? Is he spoken for? How the fuck was I meant to know that?! What the fuck is going on?!” Gareth’s voice grew louder as confusion slowly gave way to anger.
“Of course he’s fucking spoken for you shithead, you think you can just come in here and take what you want?”
Gareth’s mind reeled. “Look, I don’t know what you think happened but it was completely consensual and I had no idea he was with someone. Though even if he was someone else’s sub, or pup, or whatever your arrangement is, this level of possessiveness is fucking insane! Get me out of these fucking cuffs!”
Zarco sat back in his chair, a cynical expression on his face. “Don’t give me that crap. You know what I’m talking about. Call him.”
Gareth stomped his feet. “Call who? George? What?!”
“Your patron, shithead!” Zarco bellowed at him. Gareth only had a moment to process this because right at that moment, Jal and Matt snapped into being behind him. The car keys Jal had been holding crumbled into dust. “Ha, I knew it.” Zarco looked smug, but only for a second. “Wait, who the fuck are you? Where’s Veles?”
Jal looked around for only a second or two, taking stock of the situation. He strode forward and interposed himself between Gareth and Zarco. “He is one of mine. I don’t know who you are, but-”
Before Jal could finish, Zarco swung his right fist around to catch Jal square across the side of his face. “You send a god-touched here?! To my home?! Try and steal my flock out from under me?! Just try it buddy, I’ve been here way longer than you and I’ll be here long after you’re gone. Just remember whose turf you’re on. I mean, for fucks sake man, you’re gonna send a herald into someone else’s demesne without so much as a fucking hello, let alone an offering? Are you fucking new at this or something?” Zarco had stepped up and was ranting right into, or rather up at, Jal’s face. At first, Jal looked like he was out about to break the other man’s neck, but something made him falter. “Wait, god-touched? Him?” Jal said, gesturing at Gareth.
“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Zarco shouted, turning around and throwing his hands in the air. He turned back around and took in the sight before him. “You’re a wanderer aren’t you?” he asked.
Jal shifted his weight a little. “What of it.”
Zarco relaxed his stance a bit. “Ahh so you missed it. That’s the downside of not having a dedicated patch my friend, you don’t sense things as clearly.” Zarco’s demeanour seemed to have flipped from irate to conversational on a dime, but his body language still seemed hostile. “Look at him. It’s written all over him—in his blood, his soul. He’s touched, mark my words.”
Jal looked at Gareth intently, who squirmed uncomfortably. Gareth saw Jal’s face soften, an expression of bewilderment slowly crossing his face. “Amazing. But he’s unclaimed, you can see that too, yes?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Zarco said reluctantly. “Ok, so he’s not a full herald. He still tried to steal one of mine.”
Jal looked down at Gareth. “Is this true? You tried to steal a devotee?”
Gareth was pale, his jaw locked rigid in frustration. “What the fuck is this about?! George? We were fucking for fucks sake! Steal what? How?! What did I even do?!”
Zarco rounded on Gareth. “I felt him slip away from me you moron, he follows you now. You stole him!”
“Ahhhh,” Jal said, finally understanding. “Gareth, when you were with this man, did you change him? Not just change him, grant him something he truly desired?”
Gareth squirmed in his chair. “Yeah, so? He was fun, and sweet, I wanted to give him an awesome time. Why, what about it?”
Zarco sat down in his chair with a thump, and he slumped down. “I see. So to sum up, he doesn’t know this place is mine, he doesn’t know he’s god-touched, he doesn’t understand he’s gained the adoration of one of my followers. Buddy, you need to get your people in order.”
For a second Jal looked cowed, then his aura of confidence returned. “I sincerely apologise for any offence caused. You are right, this is a failing on my part; I did not know anyone but the Orisha operated here.”
Zarco scoffed. “Ha, me and mine have been around just as long, though it’s just me this far south. We work around each other as best we can. Conflict benefits no one.”
“And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?” Jal asked.
“Xochipilli” Zarco replied. He stood and walked over, taking Jal’s hand and shaking it. “God of Beauty and Art, and patron of hookers and homos. I’ve been looking after my kids for a very long time. You’ll understand if I reacted strongly. I’m guessing you’re Freyr, I heard on the grapevine you were coming into town, brokering a deal with old hatchetface up there” he gestured vaguely towards the business district.
Jal nodded. “That is correct. I appreciate your understanding, again this was certainly not my intention, nor was it my follower’s.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well, enjoy George. He’s a lot of fun. Once he gets going, shit, he’s like the energiser bunny. Sweet kid,” Zarco said, smiling but wistful. “You better set these guys straight or you’ll be picking up stray puppies everywhere you go.”
“Yes, I will. Is there anything I can offer you to atone for this slight?” Jal asked.
“I’m sure there is, but for now you’ll owe me one. Anyway! Now that this clusterfuck is dealt with, feel free to enjoy yourselves here for the rest of the evening. But you’re paying for drinks. And no more poaching my followers, got it?”
Jal, Gareth and Matt clustered around a table in one of the booths downstairs. Matt looked anxious and rabbity, his gaze flicking between Jal and Gareth. Gareth and Jal, on the other hand, were both quiet and contemplative. Matt broke the tension. “Someone say something. Jal? What was all that about? And Gareth are you ok?”
“I’m sure you have questions,” Jal began, “I didn’t think you’d be exposed to this side of things for a while. Right. From the top.” Jal held up his hand and bent one finger. “God-touched,” Jal began, Gareth sitting up slightly and paying attention, “refers to someone who has divinity in their blood. I’m sure you’ve heard of demigods like Heracles and so on; well, they have families, and the blood trickles down. Gareth’s family appears to be descended from one of Veles’ children.”
“Who’s Veles?” Matt asked. Jal went to answer but Gareth spoke first. “My grandmother told me about him. He’s a Slavic god. God of Magic and the Underworld, right?”
Jal nodded. “And trickery, yes. Fertility and Nature, too. Imagine him halfway between me and my cousin Loki.”
“So I’m a demigod?” Gareth asked.
“Not quite,” Jal chuckled. “The blood gets thinner every generation, so it’s only a glimmer at this point. When it’s dormant, anyway. But, as our host pointed out, you are now in service to a divine patron, so your blood’s woken up. Which brings us to our second point,” he said, counting down another finger, “claims. Your forebear can claim you by divine right, meaning you would have to leave me and follow him. You may allow any god to claim you, but he’s the only god that can do it without your consent. Claiming, it’s very old-fashioned—it’s only really useful when you’re sending a herald into battle at the head of an army or something similarly dramatic, and they need access to more divine power than a human body could normally channel. You’ll have access to a little of Veles’ power, in addition to my own.”
Gareth sat quietly, considering.
“Third—devotees, worshippers, followers, however you wish to name them. By and large they choose who they want to follow, that’s how it’s always worked. All we can do to try and sway people is use inspiration, bargains, or threats. When you gave that man—George was it?—when you blessed George with what he truly desired, asking for nothing in return, his devotion switched from Zarco to you. Or rather, to me, by way of you. Grace from on high is a pretty much guaranteed way to convert someone, but it’s not often done since without a ritual or contract there’s nothing really tying their loyalty to you. Did I miss anything?”
Neither of them said anything in response to this at first, though Matt then cocked his head in thought. “The keys,” he asked, “what was that about?”
“Ah that. This is where things can get a bit… philosophical.” Jal paused for a moment, appearing to consider how best to proceed. “In some contexts miracles and magic are the same thing. In practice, at least for us, there is a distinct difference in the amount of effort needed. Gods can use raw faith to create miracles from nothing. Magic is much the same, but also uses sympathy. Sympathetic magic needs foci, sometimes it can be words and gestures, location, sound, smell, physical objects, all sorts. We needed to travel somewhere fast, and we’re in a city full of roads, so Ana’s keys were a quick and easy focus. We sort of cut the actual driving out of the equation, because the keys represented that we could have driven if we wanted to. We could have travelled without a focus, but it would have taken a lot more out of me. You can do some very-” Jal looked up at this point to see Gareth and Matt blinking vaguely, information overload and adrenaline crash leaving them somewhat stupefied. “Oh. Well, we can talk about it more later.”
Jal cocked his head quickly, as if trying to overhear something, then got up from the table. “You’ll have to excuse me for a while, boys. I’ll be back soon.”
George shut and locked his front door of his apartment behind him, dropping his keys on the hall table by the door. He’d been having the best sex of his life, until he passed out and woke up on one of the beds in the upstairs rooms. Fucking fuck fuck dammit. Wasn’t breathing evenly enough and hyperventilated maybe. Poppers probably didn’t help. Arggghh, he thought to himself. He was a bit hurt that Gareth left. Zarco had quietly come in with an electrolyte drink and sat with him shortly after he woke up, and assured him that Gareth had acted quite the cavalier, getting help and taking him upstairs, waiting for a while before being called away. Zarco handed him a piece of paper with contact info on it. “He likes you,” he’d said. “These things just happen babe, don’t worry. And I know you like him; it’s all over your face.” Zarco had smiled, George thought, a little sadly.
I really do like him, George thought as he passed the kitchen and walked towards the bathroom. It was a weird blend of gratitude and excitement, like he couldn’t wait to see him again and get to know him. And get expertly opened up again, obviously. I’ll text him tomorrow, who has time for games at our age. Or my age—fuck he must be ten years younger than me. Guess we’ll have to see what happens.
He paused in his bedroom doorway to unlace and kick off his boots, and then headed to the bathroom. He threw his socks, shorts and assless briefs into the hamper, put his collar on the counter, and checked himself out in the mirror. He was lucky, he’d always thought, in that he liked his body for the most part. Everyone had things they’d change, but he thought he’d gotten pretty lucky, especially since he’d kept the thick legs and ass typical of his heritage, without inheriting his father’s gut as he got older. Now, however, he was noticing a few changes. His jawline seemed a little stronger, his five o’clock shadow more even. His musculature seemed to sit a little higher and prouder, and his ass and thighs looked bigger than they already had been. He’d always been a grower not a shower, but his soft cock looked to be hanging a little lower than it used to, and his breath caught when he saw his nuts had easily doubled in size. He reached one hand down and gave them a squeeze; it felt amazing, they were so heavy. He dropped them and let them bounce against his thigh, the movement causing his now hardening cock to sway from side to side.
He turned to the side to check out his lightly furry butt. It was still his, but the modest shelf it used to sport had become more pronounced, the cheeks a good deal fatter and rounder. Goddamn, you could crack a coconut in that thing, he thought gleefully. Indeed, the casual observer might raise an eyebrow at the ratio of upper- to lower-body gym days he appeared to maintain. He reached his hands back and pulled his fat butt apart, letting the cheeks slap together as he let go. They bounced and jiggled satisfyingly for a couple of seconds afterwards. He was still ragingly horny since the club; he got the feeling that he and Gareth were only just getting started, and his hole was angrily demanding attention. He reached around with his right hand and massaged his hole lovingly, moaning slightly as the nerve endings began to sing. He slipped a few fingers in to get them lubed up, and resumed rubbing around his hole, warm and slick, massaging the muscle and getting himself ready to keep playing. He absentmindedly slipped four fingers in, delighted he hadn’t tightened up too much since leaving, then pushed in the rest of his hand.
He groaned in ecstatic relief and noticed his asshole, while pliable, was still exerting a good deal of pressure on his wrist. He clenched it a few times experimentally, and was amazed at how strong it still felt despite being so accommodating. He withdrew his hand, slick with lube, made a fist and pushed it back in, pumping it in and out a few times, relishing the feeling of his hole stretching over his knuckles. He knew this wouldn’t be enough.
He strode back up the hall to his bedroom and pulled a large storage tub out of the wardrobe, then upended it onto his bed. Despite the size of the tub, only around a dozen toys fell out; he needed a large tub because of the size of them all. Doc Johnson, Mister Hankey, Bad Dragon, if a company made huge toys he probably had a few of them. He crawled onto the bed on all fours, arched his back and fisted himself a few more times to get an idea of what he could handle. He greedily grabbed his biggest plug—around 4.5” in diameter—and pressed the tip to his eager asshole. He relished the feel of the cone-shaped plug slowly pushing his fat cheeks apart. He slowly kept pushing as the cool tip of the plug gently opened him up, slowly stretching wider and wider as the plug got closer and closer to the base. His eyes widened a little as he realised he was going to take the whole thing first try, it usually took a little warming up to get this one in. With a sudden, intensely satisfying feeling of fullness, he felt his hole close around the base of the plug. His cock drooled a little as he felt the plug mash against his prostate.
He reached down and stroked his cock, hand still slick from his ass, and looked down in confusion. He’d always liked his cock; average length but nice and fat, and uncut. Now, he noticed it was a little bigger, only maybe half an inch longer but probably a good inch thicker. It was just barely too thick to get his hand fully around. Looking down at it, he kind of wished he could fuck himself, but he needed a lot more than that right now. His hole was still hungry, and his biggest plug was barely taking the edge off.
He reached over and grabbed his Big Daddy XXXL dildo—at around 15” by 10” it was his biggest toy. He reached back and pulled his plug out, slick with lube from the ass he’d always wanted, and bucked his hips a little, grinning at the feeling of his slick crack, the fat cheeks sliding against one another. He grabbed the monster dildo around the middle, felt the huge head push his ass apart, and then pushed. The whole head of the dildo pushed in instantly, a loud groan escaping from George’s lips. He had felt just enough resistance for it to be pleasant, but the toy had gone in effortlessly. He got up on his knees and positioned the toy underneath him, using his weight to slowly sink down further. He sighed with relief as the first nine inches entered him without issue. He began to pant and moan as he sank down further, and almost half-laughed in amazement as he felt his ass touch the bed. He’d never taken the whole thing before, but tonight he had like he was born to do it. He tried to calm himself down and focus on the sensation of it, his ass slick and stretched deliciously wide, his prostate crushed against the monstrous silicone cock invading his anal cavity. He reached down and massaged his big balls, full and practically churning, a thick spurt of precum pulsing from his cock.
He bent forward and fell onto his chest, ass still in the air, so he could reach through his legs and use both his hands to grab the base of the huge toy and fuck himself. Every so often he’d let go and pull his cheeks apart, as if willing someone to do it for him, or swap the toy out for a bigger one. Surprised at the thought, he realised this still wasn’t quite doing it. He slipped half of one hand in around the huge dildo, and caught his breath as he hadn’t reached his limit yet. This was at once both wondrous and slightly annoying; he could stay like this for hours, but he just wanted to be full, as full as he could possibly get.
He grabbed the next closest toy to him, an El Rey XXL, and reached back with it. Using both hands, he maneuvered the head so it was sandwiched between the Big Daddy and one powerful buttcheek, and pushed. He panted and whined as he felt the thick ring of muscle pulse and stretch, stretching slowly wider as he pushed the head of the second toy in. Knowing he could take it, he kept pushing, past the widest part of the toy, until he felt the bases of the two enormous dildos start fighting for room. He backed towards the edge of the bed and twisted around, sitting on the corner of the bed, with his legs on the floor, and started to bounce up and down on the springy mattress, fucking himself with the two enormous dildos. In his peripheral vision he caught a glance at himself in the sliding mirrored doors of his wardrobe, chest heaving with deep breaths. He reached up and kneaded his chest, running his hands down his torso, his cock bucking when he felt the slight distortion the toys made in his abdomen. He’d always fantasised about getting fucked by a cock so big it pushed his belly out.
“Oh, fuck it,” he roared as he rolled over and grabbed his Flint XL, positioned the head against his taint, and practically rammed it into his ass under the other two toys. He felt it click home in one thrust. He was so overwhelmed with pleasure, it felt like his asshole had an erection. A steady buzz was pulsing through him, humming from his massively stretched asshole outwards through his body. The seconds felt like minutes as he drowned in the sensation of being fuller than he ever had in his life. He looked over at the rest of his toy pile, and despaired to see that he’d already used his three biggest toys, and felt like he still had room to spare. He grabbed another one, a big but generic PVC dildo he’d use to get warmed up with. This would be so much easier with someone else, he thought. God I wish he was here.
At that moment, George felt his hand close around empty air as the toy turned to fine ash that floated away on an unseen breeze. “Hello George,” a deep, resonant but unfamiliar voice said.
George rolled over onto his back and sat up, seeing a very burly six foot Viking who looked like he’d walked out of a business meeting and into his bedroom. Despite an unknown man suddenly appearing in his bedroom, for some reason he felt completely calm. “I know you,” George said, “but I don’t know where from. You smell familiar but like, in my head. Like Gareth.”
“Very astute. Yes, Gareth is mine. And through him, so are you. I am Jal. It is by my power that he gave you what you most desired. I see you’ve wasted no time taking yourself for a spin,” Jal chuckled.
George knew he should be confused, or scared, by this man suddenly showing up in his apartment. But he felt a strong connection to him, a soft mix of affection, awe and respect. He trusted him. “How did you get here?”
“You called me here. Loudly, I might add. Sex can be overwhelming at first when you mix in divine favour; I promise you’ll learn to love all of it without having to rush to extremes, but that’s pretty common at the beginning. But right now, I know what you need.” George’s eyes went wide as he saw Jal start to grow in front of his eyes. He grew taller and wider, but made no move to shed his suit, only casually loosening and pulling off his tie. He saw the stitching around the shoulders pucker, groan and tear as Jal’s huge shoulders swelled. His thickly muscled arms filled and ripped through the sleeves. His huge barrel chest pushed slowly outwards and up, the buttons of his shirt quickly popping open at the top, his thickening musclegut taking care of the ones at the bottom. His hips widened and the leather belt he was wearing groaned audibly in protest. Jal reached up with his meaty paws and tore off the remnants of his shirt and jacket, and pulled his belt until it snapped. Throwing the scraps to the side, he clenched his fists and took a deep breath, his monstrous torso heaving. George saw his suit pants stretched tight as a drum, tree trunk thighs and calves like melons straining at the seams. His intimidating bulge wasn’t growing as fast as the rest of him, but was definitely pushing the fabric to its limits. The fabric and seams started to tear apart, and George caught a glimpse of similarly distressed boxers underneath. Jal reached down to the ruined pants and tore them off, boxers and all.
George struggled to take in all of the enormous hairy man before him. His head just brushed the ceiling. He was immense, stocky and powerfully muscled all over. Jal shifted his weight from side to side briefly, kicking the ruined scraps of his socks and shoes off his huge feet. As he did this, George’s attention was torn between the reflection of the twin globes of Jal’s massive, hairy musclebutt in his wardrobe mirror, and the giant’s already huge but still growing genitals. Despite already being stretched absurdly, George’s asshole quivered and drooled at the sight of Jal’s pendulous cock and equally enormous balls, swelling out and snaking down his legs. His huge thighs were already fighting for room, which pushed everything out, making it look even more obscene. George watched in awe as Jal closed his eyes and sighed, the shelf of his meaty pecs rising and falling, as he lifted his thick cock and squeezed, then let it drop and smack down against his massive nuts. When he finally stopped growing, Jal crossed the distance between him and George in one step, and looked down at him with a predatory grin. George looked up at a beautiful, mouth-watering dick, hanging soft like a deli-sized salami, over big hairy nuts like cantaloupes.
Still impaled on three huge silicone cocks (which seemed a lot smaller now, given the sight in front of him), George practically launched himself at Jal, unable to get high up enough to kiss him on the mouth, but kissing, licking and biting at everything else he could get to. He sucked at one of Jal’s big muscletits as he wrapped his arms around his midsection, only reaching about two thirds of the way around. Jal reached a big hand up and pushed down on George’s shoulder, who fell to his knees and tried to take as much of Jal’s huge cockhead into his mouth as he could, before it got too hard to manage. Even at half mast, he could only get half of the head into his mouth, probing the coin slot urethra with his tongue.
Jal stepped back, his cockhead pulling from George’s mouth, a thick spit trail dripping to the floor. George watched the big man turn around, and drop with a rumbling thud to his hands and knees, moving his knees slightly apart to allow his colossal nuts enough room to hang just shy of the floor. Jal reached back, grasped George’s whole head in his hand, and forcefully guided it into his colossal bubble butt, pushing the smaller man’s face into his crack. George only had a second to appreciate the view of Jal’s giant butt before he found his face getting mashed into the man’s thick, puffy asshole. Jal was tall enough that George could easily eat his ass while just on his knees, so used his hands to massage and knead at Jal’s huge nuts while he furiously ate the big bear butt almost crushing his head. He heard a deep groan rumble up from Jal’s chest, and felt the bass of it vibrate in the floor. Without realising he was doing it, he’d started flexing his hole around the bases of the huge toys still stuffing him, gently pulsing them in and out.
George felt the giant start to get up, and just managed to pull his head out in time before the huge slabs of muscle flanking his head clenched together. His pink face was covered in spit and his jaw ached, but he was hungry for more. He reached forward and grabbed Jal’s mammoth nuts, bringing them up to his face, kissing and licking the soft hairy skin and motorboating his face between them. Jal growled and half chuckled as he finished getting to his feet, pulling his nuts from George’s grasp, and turned around to look down at the adorable little man grinning up at him. He watched the grin fade to slack-jawed amazement as George saw Jal’s now fully hard cock swing into view, jutting from his groin rock hard. George went from feeling fuller than ever to agonisingly empty as he looked up at the giant’s beautiful dick, as thick as one of George’s meaty thighs and easily half as long again. George got up on his knees, allowing the dildos to fall half out of him, and pulled at Jal’s cock, mashing his spit-slick face into the sensitive underside of the head, greedily sucking and slurping at it. Jal bent down and picked him up off the floor, the toys finally falling completely free of him, and kissed him passionately on the mouth.
Jal took two big steps and crossed half the room, stood at the foot of the bed, and lay George down on his back, clearing the bed off while doing so. Jal found that he quite liked the little guy, all dense springy muscle and loving grins, he could see why Zarco—and Gareth—had liked him. He was like a big staffie puppy. George, never breaking eye contact, grabbed his ankles and pulled his legs up in a V, his hamstrings still loose enough that his ass kept its big bubbly shape. Jal got down on his knees, his new frame so big that his pelvis was still level with the top of the mattress, and pressed his cockhead against George’s ravenous hole. His eyes glinted, as he slowly pressed forward, and George moaned loudly in blissful relief. His hole welcomed Jal in with ease, and the god savoured the hot, wet, tight feeling. He kept pushing forward, until he felt his nuts rest against the cold wooden bedframe.
George’s eyes opened when he felt warm flesh rest against his butt. He looked down wide-eyed to see that Jal was all the way in, and growled and bucked with joy. He tried to grab at Jal’s torso to pull him down and kiss him, but the giant stayed propped up on his big hands, looking intensely down at him, out of reach. George felt him begin to tilt his hips, his massive tool pulling out of him halfway, then pushing back in. He lay his head back and half closed his eyes, breathing deeply, letting the sensation wash over him. The stretch he was getting from Jal’s cock bordered on what he was getting with three huge toys a moment before, but pressed much deeper. The air in the room was warm and humid, smelling like the giant as his body warmed up. George was struggling to focus as Jal sped up, taking longer and harder thrusts, lost in euphoria.
Jal looked down at his huge cock splitting the gorgeous Greek’s fat bubble butt in half, buttcheeks jiggling with every pound, ass-lube keeping his cock slick, shiny and warm. In the back of his mind, he was becoming vaguely annoyed by his balls knocking up against the bedframe. He shifted his knees slightly further apart, reached down and pushed them back through his legs; he then allowed them to grow, until they could comfortably rest on the floor, and large enough that they wouldn’t fit back through the gap. He had planned to grow them anyway for the surprise he had planned, but now he could focus. Looking over at the mirrored wardrobe doors, he saw they probably came halfway up his thighs, about as big as beach balls. Heh, I could probably sit on them he thought to himself. He won’t know what hit him.
“Ready?” Jal asked softly, smiling down at George who looked back up at him quizzically. Then his eyes rolled back as he felt himself stretching slowly wider, as Jal’s cock began to grow. He felt himself getting stretched slowly further and further, closer and closer to the fullness he was craving when he was alone. He could feel Jal’s cock getting deeper and deeper inside him, hot and hard. He could feel the inside of his fat asscheeks slick with slippery lube, warm from Jal’s mighty shaft. He reached down, struggling to get his hands over his big glutes to his hole, and dug his fingers in, stretching it wider, looking up at Jal pleadingly. Jal’s eyes widened a little and he smiled with an animalistic fierceness as he watched the little buttpig dare him to get bigger. He straightened up and let his arms hang by his side, thrusting his hips back and forth, and grinned smugly down at George. He kept fucking as he let his manhood grow, embodying the true likeness of a fertility god, body strong and powerful, cock enormous and potent. His dick was as wide as George’s hips now, and he could see the ridge of his cockhead press up against the furry flesh of his belly on the outstroke, before plunging back in, his divine blessing allowing the man’s small frame to accept many times the volume that it should. He took an especially big thrust, and saw that his cock was probably around five feet long, wide as a car tyre.
George groggily opened his eyes, lightheaded from overstimulation but buzzing on adrenaline all the same, and looked at the embodiment of pure masculine sex knelt opposite him. Jal’s shoulders were set back, his huge gorilla arms hanging at his sides, his hips pistoning back and forth has he pounded away. George let go of his ankles and ran his hands over his stomach, feeling the distension from the monstrous cock filling him up. His asshole was stretched to its limit; but it wasn’t its limit, he knew that, he could push further, but he didn’t care anymore—he just wanted to get fucked like this until the end of time. He looked over into the mirror and saw Jal’s massive frame knelt at the end of his bed, ramming an impossibly thick cock into him over and over again, huge churning balls rocking on the floor behind him.
Jal was getting close. This guy was fantastic, he was going to love having him around. George was worshipping him with abandon, no agenda, just drunk lust. He reached down with his right hand and slipped a finger in next to his dick, noticing George’s breath catch, and brought the slippery finger up to his pec and tweaked his nipple. He looked over and smirked at himself in the mirror, checking himself out while he fucked his newest lover’s impossibly stretched ass, his cock still thickening steadily. As he got closer, he started taking slower, deeper thrusts, pulling halfway out and then ramming himself in. He could feel his huge nuts start to drag towards him.
George noticed the god’s breathing get rougher and deeper, sweat beading on his brow. He looked over, agog at the tree-sized dick splitting him in half, salivating at the sight of how incredibly stretched open he was. He saw Jal’s huge balls quiver and slowly contract, and knew he was about to blow. Instantly he wanted to be full of his new god’s seed, to take every drop and lie in the blissful heavy warmth of what would undoubtedly be a massive load. He swallowed, his throat dry from panting, and looked up at Jal’s focussed face. “Cum in me, you beautiful beast, fill me! Please!” he shouted, Jal creasing his brow as he continued to pound away, over and over. Jal began to moan, which grew into a roar, as he finally erupted. George felt like a freight train hit him, the load exploded into him with such force. Jal kept fucking him while he came, breath rattling, bucking at the end of each thrust. George felt his stomach get tight as Jal kept cumming inside him, not appearing to be stopping any time soon. His gut got tight and bloated, stretching slowly outward in order to accommodate the pressure. Jal smiled, brow still furrowed, and pulled halfway out, grabbing the sides of his cock with his hands and shuffling his knees back. Then he pulled free of George, his huge piss-slit spraying thick cum like a fire hydrant. He doused George completely, then shifted forward again, pulling his lover back down hard onto his manhood.
George yelled in relief when he felt Jal thrust back inside him, needing him there, and licked the thick cum off his face from around his mouth. Jal resumed fucking him, sending tingles buzzing through his whole body, and he felt his gut continue to swell and swell. He ran his hands drunkenly over his inflating abdomen, warm hairy skin slick with thick cum. He scraped as much as he could off his torso and the bed around him, and drank it down greedily. His gut had grown to the beach ball size of each of Jal’s obscenely bloated nuts, and Jal was only just showing signs of slowing down. His thrusts and breathing were flagging, and he had bent forward and put his hands on the bed to brace himself. George felt himself filling more slowly, until finally, with a grunt, it stopped. Jal pulled himself out of George’s ravaged ass, cum gushing out for only a second until his springy asshole winked tightly closed. George lay on the bed in a blissful fugue.
Jal was getting a bit buzzed off the heavy waves of adoration and devotion pulsing off George during their encounter. He turned to face the mirror, titanic cock falling from the bed onto the floor with a rumbling thud. He hadn’t gone this far in decades, and had forgotten how much he loved it. Will definitely have to do this more often, he thought to himself, though with George around he didn’t think he’d need much of an excuse. He heard George stirring on the bed, and saw in the mirror that he was struggling to roll over, pinned under his own massive cumgut. He actually had to use his hand to rock it off him, so he could shuffle himself around and sit up on the edge of the bed. He was positively beaming. He had to sit with his legs wide apart, to allow room for his bulbous belly. It traced an obscene curve from just underneath his dense pectorals, out and down, hanging heavy. George drank in the feeling of being so full and warm, felt his ballooned belly pressing against the inside of his upper thighs, felt the slight strain in his shoulders and lower back trying to keep him from toppling forward. Jal met his eyes in the mirror, a kind expression on his face, and the smaller man grinned back with excitement. George went to try and get up, but only managed a few inches off the bed before sitting back down with a bounce, unable to support the weight. He could feel Jal’s prodigious load sloshing around inside him, his belly jiggling from the movement.
George looked up at Jal. “Can I uh…get some help here please…”
“You don’t want to lose a drop, do you,” Jal asked, though it was said like a statement. George’s eyes went wide.
“Fuck no, are you kidding? I’ve never felt this amazing in my life!” He looked down slapped the massive mound, loving the feeling of being rocked softly by the inertia of the gallons and gallons of spunk. His huge would have been almost out to his knees, only it hung a little down, far too heavy to remain fully round. How much do I have in me? he thought. Felt like trying to squat fuckin’ two hundred pounds…shit how many gallons is that?
Jal chuckled softly. He reduced himself down, about halfway to his usual size, and walked over, his now two foot cock hanging down, drooling the last of his load onto the carpet, and looked down at George dazedly wiping himself off with the few sections of bedding that were still dry. “You can do it yourself. I know Gareth was the conduit by which I gave you this boon, but I will take you for my own. That means, you don’t need him or me to do it for you.”
George thought about what he’d need to support his new weight. He closed his eyes and imagined the powerlifters at his gym, massive mountain men working with hundreds of pounds at a time. He didn’t want to be exactly like that, he liked his rugger bugger, short scruffy pup kind of look, but he wasn’t ready to give up the hot heavy load that had doubled his weight. He opened his eyes and saw himself rise up off the bed, as his legs and ass grew tremendously thicker, denser and stronger. He felt his back broaden slightly, as thick ropes of muscle swelled, snaking from his lower back upwards and outwards. He couldn’t see it, but he felt his core strengthen exponentially, and blew his already respectable chest up into full heavy pecs, heavy enough that they hung down slightly to meet the curve of his monstrous gut. Looking at himself in the mirror, he thickened his upper arms and forearms greatly, and made his hands and feet a little bigger, if only to look in proportion.
Jal looked approvingly as George, with an almighty groan, heaved himself up off the bed. He took two or three short steps back and forth, to counterbalance the tidal upheaval going on inside him, and then steadied himself. He found himself naturally setting his shoulders back to find some semblance of a centre of gravity. He turned to his left, taking in the sight of his calves, thighs and butt. Fuckin’ Christ, he thought, eyes tracing from his neck along the powerful outward curve of his upper back, pulling back in at the bottom before exploding outwards again around his mammoth musclebutt, down his powerful thighs and calves. Unable to resist, he willed a thick layer of fat to swell from his lower half, turning his butt from rugged mountains to round moons. He twisted his hips slightly, thrilled at the way his huge fat butt bounced against itself. I look like the back end of a fuckin’ bull! Fuck yeah!
George proudly turned around to face Jal, and slapped a big hand against the side of his slightly more in proportion but still remarkably hefty gut. It jiggled and bounced, but he remained stable on his feet. “This is fuckin’ amazing!” he said.
Matt and Gareth sat in the small booth, the hum of the crowd and the thumping industrial music filling the tense silence. “Want a drink?” asked Matt.
“Oh god yes. I want five,” Gareth said. When Matt went to get up, Gareth waved him down. “No no I’ll go, I need to ask Zarco something. Back in a sec”.
Gareth’s endowments had reverted to the form he’d adopted in the dressing room earlier, and Matt eyed him over appraisingly as he walked towards the bar. That hair suits him, he thought, I’m glad he’s having fun. Hope he’s not having second thoughts after all that though. He noticed the odd sideways look from some of the clubgoers, and became acutely aware that he looked very out of place in full business wear. He loosened his tie and popped his top two buttons. Perhaps he could get away with looking like he’d come straight from work.
Gareth walked up to the bar, waiting for Zarco’s attention. He didn’t wait long.
“Hey sparky. No hard feelings I hope,” Zarco said casually.
Gareth half-nodded, replying with only a non-committal ‘hmph’.
“Yeah, okay. Look,” Zarco said, “I stand by my reaction based on the information available. You lit up like a disco ball when you walked in; I had no way of knowing you were fresh off the boat. That said, sorry for how it went down. I hope you can still have a fun night with your friends in my humble abode.”
“Humble?” Gareth asked, gesturing around. They both laughed.
“Hey fuck you man. You want a drink or what?”
“Beer for me, vodka soda for my friend. Actually two of each.” Gareth bent down to fish money out of his sock, prompting a few sneaky glances from those nearby as his hairy butt spread slightly.
“Is George still around? Is he ok?” Gareth asked as Zarco fixed the drinks.
“I sent him home, but he’s fine. I put him to sleep just before we came to get you. Don’t worry,” he said quickly as Gareth started to look stressed, “he doesn’t think you bailed or anything. I saw Jal accept an invocation and blink out of here, my guess is he’s gone to check on our boy.”
Gareth sighed with relief. “Okay. Well. Thank you for that.”
“No sweat,” Zarco said, turning around and setting the drinks in front of Gareth on the bar. He took the money Gareth offered without comment.
“So what are the rules while we’re here?” Gareth asked. “If my friend or I find someone, can we have some fun without having the same… ‘problem’?”
Zarco smiled. “Hooo boy, green as a spring sapling aren’t ya? Ok. If you’re in my—or any god’s—demesne, no contracts and no blessings. The flock is fair game out in the wild, so to speak, but not on home turf.”
Gareth nodded. “Right, okay. So, no tricks.”
“Well, I didn’t say that,” Zarco chuckled, “just don’t be so obvious about it. If you’d shown George, I don’t know, some fancy brand of amyl or butt cream or whatever that he’d never seen before, his mind would have had half a reason to latch onto for his brand new bucket butt. But without that, it had to be you, hence ‘thank you for this divine gift oh benevolent patron’.” Gareth cracked a half smile at the sarcastic jazz hands Zarco made as he said this. “Just conjure up a prop and you’ll be fine”.
“But I thought it needed a focus?” Gareth asked.
Zarco let out a loud groan. “Oh come onnn, I’m a bartender not a fucking crêche teacher. You know if you were here to tune some ladies I wouldn’t be so forthcoming. But lucky for you I get a nice hit off any dude-on-dude shenanigans that go on under my roof, so I’ll help you out.” He gestured towards the end of the bar, largely empty, and beckoned one of his other staff to replace him. He rounded the corner and took a seat; Gareth signalled Matt to grab their drinks adding an apologetic ‘just one sec’ gesture, and then joined Zarco.
“Right. Gods and magic 101. You, your buddy over there, and whoever else Jal takes as an acolyte can channel some of his power. Domains are easy, so fertility—as you have already become quite familiar with—harvest, seasons and whatever else he has will be easy, no focus required. Anything else would require you to burn a buttload of faith, which your burly friend won’t be happy about, or to use a focus or three for a handy power discount. Simple. You, on the other hand, are gonna have a much easier time of it than your friend, thanks to your great-times-a-hundred granddaddy.” Gareth raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You can use his domains too, but still channel the faith of your patron. No currency conversion required, no fees and charges apply. I can smell sorcery all over you, lucky bastard, so short of trying deep primal forces-of-the-earth type stuff, my guess is you can be pretty free and easy with what you want to do. Be too flashy though and you’ll attract attention, so keep a lid on it.”
Gareth sat quietly for a minute, his mind racing. His mother worked two jobs for a big chunk of his childhood, until his stepdad came into the picture, so he’d spent most of his time with his Croatian grandma. She would tell him the folk tales she grew up with, about the spirits of the land and the air, of giants and witches, and of Veles and Perun’s various battles. She’d use little charms and figurines as props for her storytelling, and Gareth had kept some of them when she died. The idea that it was possible for even some of it to be true, let alone part of his family heritage, was exciting—if also a little terrifying.
“Thanks Zarco. Really,” Gareth said, locking eyes as they both stood up.
“Don’t mention it sparky. Now go have fun!” Zarco said, smacking Gareth on the butt as he turned and headed back to the table, grabbing a sly handful as he did so.
The two beers were sweating, and one vodka soda was already gone. “You were taking a while and the ice was melting,” Matt said, “everything okay?”
“Yeah. Nothing a few beers and like fourteen hours sleep won’t fix.” He sat down and proceeded to fill Matt in on what he and Zarco had discussed. “I’ll leave the thinking until tomorrow, for now let’s just have fun.” He sighed and necked half of one bottle. “I just realised you’re not really dressed for this place.”
“Yeah no kidding. I wonder if Zarco has something out back I can borrow?”
Gareth looked thoughtful for a moment. “Come with me.” He sculled the rest of his beer, leaving the other on the table, and pulled Matt towards the dressing rooms. The attendant was reluctant the let them both in (“Private rooms are upstairs, boys”) but a nod from Zarco cleared them. Gareth got his duffel bag from the coat check and set it on the small bench along the side of the small room. “So what do you want to wear?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Just something sluttier than this really,” Matt said, laughing. He shucked everything he was wearing down to his superman briefs. He saw Gareth eyeing them, apparently amused. “Hey shut up, I like them. They’re cute!” he said, turning on the spot and admiring how his plump bubble butt poked out of the waistband just a touch. The bright pattern really showed off the curve. He stood front on again, and looked at himself in the mirror. He’d liked the sort of hunter-in-the-tundra look he’d adopted his first night with Jal, and had kept it ever since. It was masculine without looking manicured. “I wish I could do, like, a sort of fem fuckboy gangbanger type thing. I dunno. Anyway why are you asking?”
“Magic in my blood, babe.” Gareth reached into his empty duffel bag, knowing what he wanted was there, even though it hadn’t been earlier. What he pulled out was big, blue and sparkly.
“Oh my god!“ Matt hissed, reaching for the mid-calf, block heel boots Gareth was holding. They were completely covered in teal glitter, but for the white cleat-style tongue behind white laces, with white piping around the tops.
Gareth reached into the duffel again, and pulled out a pair of briefs in the same colours, and handed them over. “Go on then.”
Matt slipped off his undies—noticing Gareth sneak an appreciative look at his booty as he bent to pull them down—and pulled on the teal ones as he turned side-on. The stretchy fabric hugged every curve of his thick delicious butt, although he noticed they were cut just high enough that a hint of each cheek peeked out of the bottom. The wide white waistband ended just shy of the top of his buttcrack, framing his big ass in a very obvious way. His attention briefly flicked away from his ass to the other curve at the front, the briefs cut with a generous anatomical pouch that his junk filled nicely.
Matt sat down on the bench next to Gareth’s duffel bag, his bouncy cheeks squashing slightly under him, in order to pull on the boots. He reckoned they had about a five inch heel with a two inch platform, not too blocky, and had obviously been designed with the lines of a football shoe. He closed the side zips (Thank god you don’t have to actually lace them, he thought) and sat up. As he did, Gareth tried to shove something hard over his head.
“Oww—god what are you doing?”
“Just trust me. Now stay still.”
Matt obediently sat up straight and let Gareth put his head through the neck hole of something hard and cold, which sat over his shoulders, chest and back. The mirror was to his left and he couldn’t see what Gareth was doing, though it felt like he was putting snaps together on the sides.
“Right. Take a look.”
Matt stood up and faced the mirror; his jaw dropped as he took in the sight of all-purpose football shoulderpads covering him from collarbones to sternum. Shiny white plastic plates were bound to glittery teal pads, mirroring the look of the boots. He noticed that it only covered the tops of his shoulders, like epaulettes, so most of his rangy frame was still visible.
“Oh. Fuck. Me. I love it,” Matt gushed. It was exactly the blend of masculine and feminine elements he was hoping for. Coupled with his wiry but powerful build, he found the juxtaposition fun and sexy. He turned to Gareth, now at his same height thanks to the boots, and hugged him tight.
“Oww get off! That think is hard and scratchy!” Gareth hugged him back for a second but then playfully shoved him away. He couldn’t help but notice Matt’s thighs and bulge jiggle for a second even after he had stopped moving.
Matt caught him looking him over. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said, grinning, as he very exaggeratedly ogled the large bulge in Gareth’s rubber jock. “We’d best coordinate.” He smiled contentedly as he watched the bulging briefs inflate, the pouch filling out and hanging down as it got heavier. He felt his soft cock plump up thicker, his balls swelling, and smiled as he saw the outline of each gradually show in the fabric. His bulge was around the same large mango size as Gareth when he stopped, but it was somehow more obscene given the stretchy fabric and the bounce it created whenever he moved. “Okay, ready,” he said to Gareth, whose jaw had almost imperceptibly dropped.
“Mate, I’m fuckin’ starving,” George said, waddling around the still-huge Jal towards his bedroom door. He jolted as Jal let out a startling peal of thunderous, booming laughter.
“Aren’t you full enough?” Jal said with a smile.
George turned side on in the doorway, his gut bouncing and pressing against the doorframe. “Not even close!” he said, grinning and winking, and noticed Jal’s half-hard cock twitch involuntarily. Jal watched, eyebrows slightly raised, as George laboriously got down on his knees, bulbous belly bouncing as he did so, and made a grab for the fat still-drooling cock of his new god.
Jal seriously considered going for round two for a moment, as this unabashed cock addict was really turning him on, but took a step back out of George’s reach.
“Hey what gives!” George objected, but he couldn’t hold his centre of gravity having missed his grab, and toppled forwards grasping at nothing. He bounced on his prodigious ballgut, sloshing audibly, and rolled to the side. At first Jal thought his belly was still jiggling, but then realised George’s gut was bouncing in time with deep, silent laughter. He was laughing and wheezing so hard he was red-faced, and Jal couldn’t help but chuckle along.
“Aaahahaha, oh fuck, this is ridiculous,” George said gasping for air. He righted himself and clambered up, accepting Jal’s proffered hand for stability. “Okay, okay, so maybe this is enough for now. For now.”
Jal smiled. “Agreed. But I really should be getting back, I left Matt and Gareth alone at the club.”
“Gareth’s still there?” George asked, “Zarco said he left?”
Jal shook his head. “I expect that was to account for his absence. Zarco was questioning him in another room after winning your loyalty for me.”
George considered this. It hadn’t been a conscious choice, but really thinking about it, he supposed he had jumped in with both feet once he realised Gareth was working his hole like plasticine. “I hope I didn’t cause any trouble,” he said, looking a little downcast.
“Not at all. Zarco and I are old enough to know that misunderstandings aren’t worth dwelling on.”
George looked up. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“Zarco’s a god too, didn’t you know? Aztec if I’m not mistaken. He’s set up quite far south, considering. He was very protective of you.”
“Huh,” George said thoughtfully, staring briefly into the middle distance. “I could see that. I’ve been living here for years working on scaffolding crews, I don’t think I’ve seen him age a day in that whole time. I just never noticed. Club lighting, you know? And he really goes to bat for his regulars, he’s a good friend, if a little distant sometimes.”
Scaffolding huh, Jal thought, that would explain the shoulders. “Yes, he takes very good care of his followers. Certainly better than I did for mine this evening.” Jal watched a resolved expression come over George’s face.
“I’ll go back with you. I should talk to Gareth and Zarco.” He moved towards the wardrobe, intending to find something to wear, but stopped when he caught a full head-to-toe look at himself in the mirrored door. “Hmm. Nothing I own is going to fit me like this. And no,” he said, pre-empting Jal as he opened his mouth to speak, “I am not getting any smaller.”
Jal grinned warmly, but with a feral glint in his eyes. “Boy, if you think this is big, just you wait. You don’t even know full.” George’s heart skipped a beat, a wave of intense arousal and deep-seated thirst crashing over him. “But right now, we have to go.”
“Ooh, actually I might have one thing…”
Matt and Gareth surveilled the crowd, nursing fresh drinks at one of the standing tables near the bar. Matt had his forearms on the table and was slouching onto them, back slightly arched and purposely shifting his weight every so often so his bountiful booty bounced about. He loved how it felt.
“Hello lads. Don’t see many pumpers yer age.”
Matt and Gareth turned to face the stranger with the light Scottish brogue, who stood opposite them at their table. Matt’s breath caught and Gareth sputtered his sip of beer, as the big daddy bear grinned confidently at them. His tan, slightly weathered face had heavyish smile and laugh lines, and his big white smile was framed by a neat but full salt-and-pepper beard. “Hector,” he said, extending a hand.
“Gareth. And this is Matt,” Gareth replied, returning the handshake.
“And only I am, I’m afraid. Gareth is all natural.” Matt smirked at Gareth who countered with a questioning look. “What, you don’t know everything about me. I pump on and off when I feel the itch, a COO staying in the hotel got me into it.”
Hector chuckled to himself, deep and resonant. “Looks more on than off ma friend.” Matt smiled and stood up straight. He was ever so slightly taller than Hector, but only because of the high heeled boots. He leaned around, not even trying to be discrete, and looked their new friend over. He guessed early fifties, and clearly in good shape. He wore dirty stovepipe jeans tucked into motorcycle boots, some leather strapping around his wrists, and a baseball cap—that was it. The jeans had a modified pouch, designed to accommodate the large grapefruit-sized bulge sagging in front of him, pulling the waist of his jeans down just enough to see that his thick, coarse grey-flecked chest hair ran uninterrupted down his belly to his crotch.
“Looking good, Hector,” Matt said, looking down at his pouch and then back up. The older man laughed.
“Hehe, thanks ma friend. Figured I’d check this place out while I’m in town seeing friends. I’m working in Rio at the minute, just got here today.”
“Oh, we just came from there!”
“Did ye now—I’m head of maintenance on that mother of a cruise ship you’d probably heard honking from halfway across the city. Not much to do on board, so if I’m not workin’ I’m pumpin’.” He grinned and hefted his big bulge, letting it drop and bounce against his thighs. His legs filled his jeans out nicely, but he was clearly stronger in his upper body. Matt eyed off his strong broad shoulders, thick chest and big arms, but his asshole twitched at the sight of Hector’s meaty forearms that would put Popeye’s to shame.
Gareth couldn’t help but grin along with the man. He smiled with his whole face, it was charming and infectious. Then, staring past Hector towards the entrance, Gareth’s eyes widened and his mouth fell half open, as he saw Jal and George walking casually over to their table.
Hector caught Gareth’s expression, and turned to see what had captured his attention, at which point Jal raised a big hand and waved. He wore what the boys recognised as his usual black t-shirt, sleeves straining, stretched tight across his big chest and midsection. Hector’s eyes traced down the stranger’s burly trunk to the denim jeans he wore, painted on to the man’s thick muscular thighs and butt, and the intimidating bulge straining to break free of the button fly barely holding together.
It took Gareth a split second to realise that the guy accompanying Jal was George, but despite looking more bullock than pup in his current form he still had the same enthusiastic smile that attracted Gareth in the first place. The common features ended there, though, as he waddled towards them wearing a green neoprene wrestling singlet, codpiece detail partially obscured by the bottom of the slightly furry ballbelly bouncing hugely in front of him. Gareth thought he looked like a strongman who stopped training for a month or three, but didn’t think to lower his caloric intake. He saw George say something to Jal, then break off and head towards the bar. As he detoured Gareth saw that the singlet was assless, and guffawed at George’s apparent reluctance to sacrifice his big bubble butt in his larger form. George’s beefy ass looked obscenely big framed with green stretch fabric, bulbous scruffy cheeks bouncing freely with each step. Gareth winced slightly as his cock started to harden in his rubber jock, which had already been stuffed to capacity.
“Boys,” Jal said cheerfully in a warm bass, standing between Hector and Matt at the table, “glad to see you’ve salvaged the night. Who’s this?” He turned to Hector and extended his hand. Hector continued to gawk for a second before composing himself.
“Hector, good to meet ye sir” he said with a somewhat distracted smile, accepting Jal’s hand and shaking it firmly. Jal could see Hector was doing his level best to look him in the face, but the man’s eyes kept darting all over him, the back of him in particular. Jal could feel walking over that his huge bear butt was preventing the waistband of his jeans from sitting flush. He guessed Hector was trying for a glimpse down the back.
“Jal, likewise,” Jal said with a smile, and shifted his weight to his other leg, feeling the gap open up a bit further as his hip pushed towards Hector. Hah! he thought, as Hector’s eyes instantly homed in on his butt, clearly able to get a better look down the back of his jeans.
“So, uh,” Hector began, flustered, “these lads with you?”
“Yes they are, I had to step out for a while to pick up a friend.” Jal gestured towards George at the bar with his head, not breaking eye contact.
Hector looked the tiniest bit crestfallen at the prospect of Matt and Gareth being spoken for—and was in awe of the third one leant against the bar. His gut and those buttocks never seem to rest totally still! he thought. “Hoo, yer a lucky man ma friend. Yer boys look fantastic.” Then after a beat, “Is that a Norwegian accent I detect? I did two seasons in Hammerfest a few years back, nice place, really great people”. Jal’s confident air warmed instantly as he turned to face the older looking man. Matt watched somewhat bemused as the two fell into an easy conversation, slipping from Norwegian to English and back again. Gareth was distracted ogling every inch of George’s new bulk. Matt left the table—no one noticed—and headed to the bar.
George and Zarco were finishing up a discussion as Matt approached; he guessed it ended positively based on George’s relieved expression.
“Hey, you must be George. I’m Matt.”
George gave him a big puppydog smile and nodded. “George. I’m glad I get to meet you finally. I think I’m up to speed on the whole—” he made spirit fingers in the air “…thing between talking to Zarco just now and Jal filling me in earlier. He told me about you guys travelling with him on our way here”. George had been absentmindedly scratching and jiggling his bloated belly while they were talking.
“So it looks like you’ve got the hang of things,” Matt said smirking, gesturing over George’s body, “or did you start out with most of this already?”
George laughed. “Well, I’m still the same height, but I’m a scaffolder by trade. Can you imagine me climbing anything like this?” He slapped his gut, and smiled at the heavy feeling of it rocking slightly. “No, no, this is because of him.” George nodded in Jal’s direction.
“Wait,” Matt said, gears turning in his brain, “it’s…”
“Yup!” George said beaming. “It was one monster load. A decent few gallons are still covering my bed.” Matt just looked him over, dumbfounded, in awe of the huge cumgut the former cub was proudly sporting. “I’m tellin’ you mate, you’ve got to try it.” Matt dumbly nodded, obviously only half present as he daydreamed about getting pumped full himself. “You look awesome by the way. If I hadn’t picked up Gareth, I’d have come for you next. I like fucking around with the whole gender aesthetic thing, it’s hot. Also—” George smacked Matt on the top of his full, round buttcheek. “Fuck, mate. Sit on my face any day,” he said, laughing.
The smack snapped Matt out of his reverie, and smiled genuinely at his new friend. “I think we’re gonna have fun with you around.”
“You bet your fat arse you are. Now come with me”. George grabbed Matt’s hand and ambled purposefully to their table. He pushed in between Jal and Gareth, holding up an old key on leather cord. “Key to the castle guys, with Zarco’s compliments. Off limits to the rest of the clubgoers, Zarco usually uses it himself or loans it to his mates. It’s quite the funhouse so I’m told.” Matt and George looked up at Jal with big eyes and bigger smiles. Gareth stifled a snort laugh. Hector looked over at Jal with a mixture of envy and respect, and quietly drank his beer.
“Sounds fun,” Jal said, then turned to Hector; “will you be joining us?”
The five men stood in the doorway of the huge room. From the public rooms downstairs, they had gone through a door at the end of the hall, and down a flight of stone steps. Based on the layout it looked to be underneath the chancel, but deep enough down that the music was mostly muffled by several feet of earth, though the bass came through loud enough to provide background noise.
Hector broke the silence, shock making his accent come out a little thicker. “Holy shit…”
Jal strode past his retinue to the centre of the big room, which was completely empty; everything else in the room was along the walls, or attached to the ceiling along the sides. There appeared to be loosely designated zones for particular interests, but no walls separating them. “Hector,” Jal began, projecting loudly and filling the room with his voice, “George tells me you’re just newly in port, yes?”
“Uhh yes, that’s correct sir.” Hector wasn’t sure why he defaulted to calling the younger man sir, there was just something about him that commanded respect.
George piped up. “He’s not a regular if that’s what you mean. I checked with Zarco, all good!”
Jal smiled. “Excellent,” he stated, and began to disrobe. As if a starting pistol had sounded, the boys began shedding their fetishwear, except Matt who still kept his briefs on. Hector just stood back and watched the tableau. All these guys – the otter, the Norse musclebear, the regal jock, and the cheerful musclechub – were absurdly sexy. There wasn’t an average body part amongst them, everything was dialled up either a little or a lot; almost to the point of caricature in George’s case.
Jal locked eyes with Hector and walked over, kissing him hungrily on the mouth, undoing his jeans as he did so. Matt eyed off the impressively bloated cock and hugely pumped balls that flopped free as Hector pushed his jeans halfway down his thighs. He must have been pumping for decades. Fuck that looks so fat and heavy! he thought. As if reading his mind, Jal broke the kiss and, smiling, pushed Hector towards Matt. “Go, have fun,” he said, before turning his full attention to Gareth.
Having apparently been given Jal’s permission, Hector strode towards Matt, holding his jeans in place so he didn’t have to penguin-walk, his fat junk flopping side to side as he went. Matt had guessed this was how things were going to go, and so had chosen to keep his briefs on so he could give Hector a show. In the few long strides Hector took to close the distance between them, Matt’s cock bloated up, his ballsack inflating to the size and shape of a large grapefruit, though just loose enough to see the outline of his fat, plum-sized balls. Hector clearly liked a bulge, and he was willing to bet he’d like the reveal just as much. Hector grabbed the younger man roughly, one arm around the waist and the other hand behind his head, pulling him into a hungry kiss, then moving his hand down to grab a firm handful of buttcheek.
“Mmmm,” Matt moaned into the kiss, grabbing Hector’s bulbous ballsack, massaging it gently with both hands. Hector broke off so he could awkwardly remove his boots, jeans and baseball cap (revealing a dark grey widows peak, buzzed down all over). Matt had a glance around the room while he waited for his partner to return, and spied a corner full of pumping gear. There was the usual arsenal; acrylic jar, bullmaster, monstertube and so on – even an anal pump he’d eyed off online – but there were several others he’d never seen, and were truly intimidating. One of them looked like a monstertube scaled up about four times, it must have been two foot in diameter, with a four inch opening for your junk. Matt’s attention was pulled back as he felt a face push into his package, and fingers toy with his waistband. Hector was evidently getting up close and personal with Matt’s downstairs, eager to see just how big the young man was. Matt gently twisted his hips, swinging his pendulous bulge to softly hit Hector in the face. He looked down at the older man on his knees grinning up at him, and gave him the tiniest nod.
Hector tried to slip Matt’s briefs off, but the waistband was catching on the pronounced shelf of his fat round ass. He felt Hector slip his fingers round to the back under the waistband, pulling them halfway down, then coming back to the front and pulling them the rest of the way. His mouth fell open as Matt’s own pumped package proudly bounced against his thighs, his hard cock deliciously bloated, his fat sack bouncing like a bag of jelly underneath.
“Holy shit lad, yer what like, nineteen? Twenty? When on earth’d you start?” He hefted and massaged Matt’s cock and balls as though testing they were real.
“Oh a couple of years,” he replied, “just lucky I guess. Good circulation maybe. I spent an hour in the jar earlier, it’s not like this all the time or anything”. He felt a little bad for lying so directly. What else am I supposed to say?
“Still. Impressive. Especially in a lad your age.” He stood up and noticed Matt nod towards the equipment he’d spotted earlier. “Ye gods, look at all that.”
Hector walked over and grabbed the Monstertube senior; the ovoid plastic chamber was just smaller than a basketball, hinged so you could open it in half. “This is what I use back on the ship. I can fill it in about an hour and a half nowadays,” he said, a little pride in his voice.
“Well let’s see if I can’t help you along a bit faster. I uh…have an all-natural lube I use that’s made for pumping, humectants and herbal extracts—perhaps that’s why I’ve gotten such good results?” Matt was thinking back to what Gareth said about props. Unsure of whether Jal wanted another follower just yet, he was going to play it safe. Hector grinned.
“Fuckin’ a, lad.” There was a leather sling chair nearby, which Hector pulled over and sat in, looking at Matt expectantly. Matt realised after a second what his role was in this dynamic and obediently retrieved a hand pump from the shelf, and took his place at Hector’s feet. The older man handed the chamber over, then sat back and closed his eyes. Matt reached back and stuck his hands up his ass, one after another, getting them both covered with the warm, slick ass-precum he’d been constantly lubed up with ever since he first got his powers. He gently began applying the ‘pumping lube’ and massaged it all over Hectors considerable package, smiling as he heard him moan under his ministrations.
Matt undid the hinged gasket on the chamber, letting it fall in half, and closed it up over Hector’s fleshy package. Hector pulled the chamber against his groin as Matt connected the pump and began to increase the level of vacuum. Feeling it seal against his flesh, Hector growled contentedly and let the chamber hang, half-supported by the edge of the chair, enjoying the weight. Matt grinned and began to focus.
As Hector and Matt walked off, George’s attention was caught by some shelves in the far corner of the room. His heart jumped in his chest as he saw a section dedicated to the largest toys he’d ever seen – Obviously custom, nothing this size would ever sell commercially he thought. He made a beeline for them, his asshole itching for a stretch.
He looked over the shelves, noticing the top few were stocked with several toys he recognised – and had now hopelessly outgrown – with the selection getting larger lower down. The truly massive ones just sat on the floor. Makes sense I guess. They must weigh a ton! George thought. He walked over to one in the corner, a classic dick-and-balls style dildo. He’d seen this one before, in one of the fetish stores back in Melbourne, though it was quite obviously designed as theme decor. It was about four foot high, easily one and a half feet across, and probably weighed more than a truck tyre. Probably the same amount of rubber too.
He tried to get down into a squat and pull it out of the corner, but his gut was so big and bloated that it was getting in the way. He ended up having to get as close to the wall as his huge belly and butt would allow, shimmy a hand in behind it and shove it over, roll it with his foot, then step on the nuts to lever it upright again. But the end, he was panting; he hadn’t had to do anything more strenuous than walk since Jal’s godly load doubled his weight, and even with his newly muscular frame, it was tiring. But the hard part was over; the next part would be a cinch.
George waddled over and tipped the enormous toy slightly over, twisting and reaching one arm back to hold it steady. He felt the massive, round rubber dome of the tip press coolly against his crack, and slowly pushed back onto it. He felt his huge bubbly butt get slowly split as his cheeks were pushed further and further apart. His hole was twitching impatiently, and practically tried to inhale the head as soon as he felt it touch. George began to lightly pant as he slowly, steadily impaled himself on the enormous rubber dick. His hole stretched wider and wider, Jal’s cum trickling out of him and down the sides of the toy, making its entry even smoother. He felt his hips widen to accommodate the immense girth. When he felt the ridge of the cockhead slip past his ring, his cock bucked with pleasure, his light panting getting deeper and more guttural as his prostate was mashed against a wall of rubber.
George slowly stepped backwards, the toy righting itself, then slowly lowered himself down onto it. He had meant to savour it, but it was just going in so easily, and before he knew it he was sitting on the balls, his slick crack split blissfully wide, grinding his hole into the base as though trying to milk an extra few inches out of it. He could feel his prodigious belly sloshing around as the giant phallus stirred up the milky contents. He pulled his fat cheeks apart, just to make sure he was getting every last bit inside him, then sat contentedly.
Jal immediately saw the room for what it was when they walked in. This place smelled like dead, cold stone, but it hummed with life. It smelled of Zarco inside his head, but there was something else, something that reminded him of Nott and Loki and the elves. This stone is from a much older temple, he thought, looking the room over reverentially. He must have built this in when the church went up. And it’s reacting. He saw the room fill itself based on what was going on in his acolytes’ heads. Huh. They can’t see it.
Jal caught the hungry look in Matt’s eyes as Hector’s plump package flopped free, and was quite happy to send them off together. He hadn’t had any solo time with Gareth since they got together, and it was time to remedy that. He loved the form Gareth had chosen for himself; still recognisably him, but him imagined as some kind of dispossessed noble or wandering mystic haunting the steppes. It reminded him of home. Gareth caught his eye as he was walking over and, though he appeared to have been eyeing off George’s rump as he walked off, closed the gap between them. Jal kissed him hard on the mouth, then the curve of his neck. “Are you okay with this?” he asked. Gareth took in the big man’s sweet earthy smell, and shivered with arousal at his hot breath in his ear. “You’ve been rather distant in the time we’ve spent together.” Gareth leaned into Jal’s necking, then gently pulled his face up to his own. They kissed again, a little more tenderly, and faced each other with softer expressions.
“I just wasn’t sure whether I was here just because of Matt or not,” Gareth replied. “I’ve felt a bit like a third wheel. I mean I’m happy, and grateful, just not sure of how I fit. And then upstairs you defended me without a second thought, which sort of confused me even more. So…I don’t know…” He shrugged awkwardly.
Jal smiled warmly and hugged Gareth tight. “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you to be,” he said softly into his ear, “I figured I’d just keep things relaxed and wait for you to find your way to me. But when I looked into you earlier, with Zarco, I saw plain as day that you’ve been a bit lost at sea. So I thought direct action might help things along.” He flashed a cheeky smile and began kissing his neck again, one hand grasping a handful of butt while the other held him tight around the waist. I can see why Matt fell for him so fast, Gareth thought, head swimming in Jal’s warm smell and warmer embrace.
“Thank you. I do want to be here. I want to be with you.”
Jal pulled back and smiled brightly, genuinely happy. “I’m glad. Now, I think this is far overdue”. Jal slowly kissed down Gareth’s chest and stomach, eventually getting on his knees and taking Gareth’s thick, half-hard cock down his throat.
Hector lay back in the sling chair, enjoying the slowly increasing pull on his junk that Matt’s expert pumping was providing. Matt smiled knowingly to himself; he was about to make this guy’s dreams come true, and without the risk of an accidental awakening. He watched contentedly as Hector’s already swollen ballsack slowly inflated larger, his fat sausage cock following suit. He knew he was pushing the boundaries of plausibility expecting Hector to believe he’d packed the generous chamber in a matter of minutes, but he was eager to see how the Scotsman would react.
Matt watched Hector’s eyes open in mild confusion – he felt the unmistakeable sensation of warm plastic pressing on his package, and looked down to see he’d completely filled the chamber. His melon-sized sack and slowly fattening cock had filled the available space, and seemed to be waiting expectantly for more room to grow. “Fuckin’ hell lad, what was in that lube? ‘Ere, get the next one.” He began undoing the gasket.
Matt obediently got up and walked towards the first of the custom chambers, Hector eyeing off his ever-jiggling bubble butt as he walked; but he turned at the last minute to retrieve the largest one there. Hector had removed the chamber by this point and was kneading his big sack, in awe of how quickly he’d grown. His nuts had swollen to twice their usual size, and his cock was so full that his bloated foreskin was completely obscuring the head of his cock. He was so distracted he didn’t notice Matt had grabbed the largest one until he got back.
“Aye lad that’s too big to move up to in one go. Get the—”
“But look how big you’ve gotten, and so fast,” Matt interrupted, “let’s give it a shot. This lube seems to work for you really well.”
Hector’s greed for size won him over, and he sat back silently by way of approval. He closed his eyes, waiting to be served. Matt reached back and fisted himself, ass-lube coming thicker and faster now that he was getting more aroused, and slicked up Hector’s big bouncing package again. It took a couple of minutes to undo the gasket and fasten it in place. Hector felt his junk hanging heavily against the wall of the chamber, excited at the available volume. I wonder how far he can push me, he thought.
Matt began to pump, and Hector sighed at the familiar tug on his balls and cock. He’d seen an electric pump on the shelf when he went to retrieve the new chamber, and dashed back to get it while Hector got comfortable. He swapped it in for the hand pump, set it to battery mode, and set it to gradually oscillating pressure peaks. He smiled as he heard a deep moan rumble up from Hector’s chest. Hector revelled in the regular pull and slight release; it felt like his whole package was getting slowly jerked off.
Hands free, Matt stood up to better take in the scene. The daddy bear lounged contentedly in the sling chair, bloated junk imprisoned in the huge vacuum chamber resting on the ground in front of him—he’d actually had to spread his knees wider to accommodate it. Matt watched, struggling to remain patient, as he watched Hector’s cock and balls swell even further. He must have zoned out and lost control for a minute because when he came back to his senses, Hector’s ballsack was the size of a watermelon, two grapefruit sized balls throbbing in relief. He’d grown Hector’s natural cock to a thick twelve incher, so with the pump on top of that it was the size of a full salami. He slowed the growth down considerably, so he could have a little fun before the big reveal.
Matt walked over and straddled the older man across the waist, and leant down to kiss him, soft beard tickling his face. Hector opened his eyes, and looked to briefly consider reprimanding him, before abandoning the flimsy power dynamic. Ahh fuck it, the lad’s already got one master, he can do what he likes if it gets me huge. He put his hands around Matt’s waist, then moved them down and around to firmly grasp the big buttcheeks that sat heavy and warm on his pelvis. “Up and around, lad.”
Grinning at the request, Matt got off him and turned around; he threw one leg over Hector’s reclined form and stood up straight, one leg either side, then tipped forward at the waist and put his hands on Hector’s knees. He slightly arched his back to stick his butt up and out, then pushed backwards and mashed his butt into Hector’s face. Hector only had a second to marvel at the shapely mounds of Matt’s huge bubble butt before he was up to his ears in the deep, warm crack. He snuffled around like a pig hunting truffles until his tongue finally found Matt’s thick puffy hole. Christ his arse is deep, he thought, and he’s got a hole you could chew on.
While Hector happily and enthusiastically munched away on his butt, Matt looked down to see how the growth was going, and a gleeful expression came over his face.
Despite being stuffed with a rubber cock bigger than a punching bag, George’s fat ass still felt hungry. Sure it had taken the edge off, but it had also just made him want even more. He clamped down on the massive toy and got to his feet – even stretched this obscenely wide, his hole was easily strong enough to keep the toy in place. The head bulged absurdly from the bloated curve of his belly as he turned around, looking over the toys again, hoping there was something bigger he’d somehow missed.
He noticed a gunmetal grey cabinet bolted to the wall. On his first look he thought it must have been some kind of ducting; it was about three feet wide and ran the full twelve feet from the floor to the ceiling, only now he noticed the front was hinged. He walked over to what he now saw was a large locker, and opened it.
George’s eyes boggled and his breath caught as he was faced with the biggest rubber cock he’d ever seen. He craned his neck up and reckoned it must have been about eight feet long, and the best part of two and a half feet across. He saw a hydrant-thick steel shank going into the base and presumably running up the length inside. The shank was attacked to some kind of hydraulic joint bolted to the wall around hip height. Haha holy shit! he thought to himself, it must flip down like a fuckin’ murphy bed! He reached behind the gigantic shaft and barely had to push it at all before it slowly descended noiselessly, gently bobbing as it finally sat horizontal. He immediately released his clench on the comparatively tiny toy inside him, and his ass practically spat it out in preparation for this new trial.
George gambolled over to the yoga ball sized head of the gargantuan dildo, and pressed it against his butt, bending at the waist. The tip pressed against his butt but was too broad to split his cheeks. George was struggling to hold on to his higher faculties as his hole raged for attention, lust filling him, and reflexively began to grow. His height and frame remained the same, but he could feel his already large thighs getting even thicker, and his huge butt exploding with mass. His legs looked almost conical they were so top heavy, and each of his monstrous cheeks could out shadow an overgrown watermelon. He widened his hips which only added to the effect, and tried backing up again; still no success. He ground his hole against the huge tip in frustration, willing it to go in, but his hole remained stubbornly closed.
In a fit of pique, George reached one hand around his big heavy belly and through his legs, grasping up past his taint, and pushed his fingers into the thick ring of muscle. He reached his other arm behind his back, thrusting his hand down into the top of his deep crack, and found the top of his hole. Tentatively at first, then more forcefully, he pulled his hands apart and stretched his hole open. Jal’s load gushed out of him all over the head of the mammoth dildo for a second until it was plugged shut as the curve of the tip pressed flush against his big butthole. Planting his feet and pushing back with his elephantine thighs, and pulling his hole open like an industrial rubber band, George felt the head finally start to enter him. He heaved a sigh of relief and let his hands go; his hole sprang tight around the curve of the head, but a good foot of it was already inside him. Only two feet to go… he thought, longing to pass the pronounced corona and hold the whole head inside him. With slow, thundering steps, he pushed his hippopotamus butt further back.
He whimpered as he could feel himself getting stretched further and further, inching closer and closer to the ridge. First he felt his fat pillowy buttcheeks close in around the ridge as he pushed his deep buttcrack back further. He felt dull pressure across the outer ring as the flare pushed in, then sudden feeling of intense fullness as it finally slipped through, his thick beefy hole pulling it the rest of the way. He moaned loudly, and without thinking he kept stepping backwards. Holy shit it’s bigger than Jal was he thought, his asshole sending waves of joy buzzing through him. He looked back and down and saw his enormous booty split wide by the preposterous toy, and grinned gleefully. He felt a familiar fullness looked down to see the enormous ridge of the cockhead ripple across his wobbly gut, disappearing up into wherever all this cock ended up going. Haha, I’ve got a TARDIS butt, he thought, I’m bigger on the inside.
He stopped at around the five foot mark, and tried to think. He wanted his god to be the biggest thing he’d taken…but…there was still three feet left… He’s busy with Gareth anyway…besides, I’ll just ask him to get even bigger next time. He reached back and ran his hand down to the top of his buttcrack, and stuck half his hand up into his hole. Focussing, he felt it swell, thick and springy, and he nearly swooned at the sudden explosion of sensation. He grabbed the top of the ring in his hand, thick as a pool noodle, and playfully pulled at it a little, stunned to see that it still had give. Hehe, I’ll definitely ask him to get bigger next time.
He stopped pushing when he felt the sides cold metal cabinet dig into his warm blubbery buttcheeks, and realised that he wouldn’t be able to get the last ten inches or so inside him – it would involve backing into the cabinet, and he was too wide for that. There was a tiny blip of disappointment, but it was gone in a flash; easily ignored in favour of the waves of pleasure coming from intense fullness and stretch. He stopped for the briefest moment, then began to thrust himself back and forth on the massive pylon-sized dildo, incoherent with bliss.
Jal’s throat was clamped down onto Gareth’s cock, and had started to change. Gareth looked down to see him growing into what he and Matt knew as his ‘natural’ form; he’d often seen him walking either into or out of the bedroom looking like this; about a foot taller, a whole lot bigger all over, thick hair and a full beard. Gareth felt the beastman’s hair grow longer and thicker in his fingers, as he pushed his head onto his dick. Gareth had still been sporting his jock-stretching package from the bar, so a bigger cock needed a bigger throat he supposed. He grinned at the thought, just as Jal let his fat cock ‘schlorp’ from his mouth, and looked up. Jal smirked at the grin, then noticed Gareth’s eyes dart meaningfully over at Hector, as if to say, you’re changing in front of him?
The big man stood up and bent down to whisper into Gareth’s ear. “Don’t worry about it. I can already feel the air buzzing, he’s already at least half aware of what’s going on, deep down. And he seems to be fitting right in.” Gareth nodded up at him, then instantly got a face full of warm hairy muscle cleavage as Jal pushed Gareth’s head right in between his big muscletits. Gareth struggled reflexively from the surprise, but then brought both hands up to stroke and knead the huge slabs his face was buried in, and tweak the bigger man’s fat nipples. Jal moaned from deep in his big barrel chest, and Gareth could feel it vibrating through his head. He could also feel Jal’s mug-thick cock sandwiched between the two of them, throbbing as it reached full hardness, the juicy head hot against his sternum.
Gareth fell to his knees, Jal’s huge cock bobbing and swaying in front of him. He seized the monster with both hands, and dove onto the glistening cockhead, only managing to get half of it in his mouth. Well he’s already shown me how to fix that, Gareth thought, as he too began to grow. Jal peered down over the impressive shelf of his brawny chest, and watched with interest at Gareth’s transformation – he was excited to see what his follower had planned. He watched his wavy raven black hair grow longer, down past his shoulder blades. He saw Gareth shift his weight so his feet could slide back on the stone floor, as his leg bones lengthened. He couldn’t see Gareth’s face, but felt the fat head of his cock squeeze into his follower’s mouth, so assumed he must be growing evenly all over.
Jal gently eased Gareth’s mouth off his cock; the younger man looked up confused, but Jal beckoned him to stand up. It was their first time together, and Jal wanted to witness Gareth’s change. Gareth stood before him, feet slightly apart, arms at his sides, smiling adoringly at the hulking Viking. His long wavy hair blew gently in an unseen breeze, his facial features became slightly more angular, and his eyes hued violet. Jal watched in awe as Gareth matched his height. He was certainly taller but not particularly broader, and had kept the body hair patterning he’d chosen earlier in the night, though against now paler skin. His musculature had grown, but in a dense and graceful way, as a gymnast or dancer. He looked, Jal thought, like a venerable mystic or priest; beautiful and powerful without being as physically imposing as Jal’s far more barbarian-like physique. His blood’s coming through, Jal thought. He would have made a truly terrifying herald in battle.
“You are beautiful,” Jal said softly. He walked over and resumed nuzzling his neck. He took one of Gareth’s large hands and brought it around behind him – Gareth had to lean slightly to the side to reach all the way around Jal’s thick torso – and pressed it in between his huge hairy cheeks. Gareth reached in and brushed his fingers against Jal’s bagel-sized asshole, massaging the thick ring of muscle, smiling as Jal moaned softly into his ear. Gareth instinctively allowed his cock to grow further, eager to give his god the working over he clearly yearned for. Jal noticed the change too and brought his free hand to Gareth’s beautiful cock, feeling it swell out of his grip.
Back upstairs, Zarco was having a hard time focussing on his work. The buzz coming off his temple downstairs was intoxicating; his knees felt weak and his pupils were slightly dilated. He’d hosted orgies in there before and the faith payout was always sizeable, but he hadn’t felt like this in centuries. He called a few of the bar backs to take over, and retired to the private room upstairs he kept for himself. Who knew when or if this would happen again, and he was going to devote his full attention to riding this wave.
Matt appraised his work as Hector ravenously devoured his big ass. The vacuum chamber was almost full; Hector’s scrotum had reached beach ball territory, easily a foot and a half across, bloated and round. His cock lay atop the bulbous ballsack, not fully hard and so hugging the curve, like a foot and a half of sleeping python. Ah, fuck it, he thought, Hector’s junk blooming in an instant to fill the chamber fully. Matt started to feel Hector’s muffled protestations from between his big slick cheeks as the older man registered the feeling of the warm plastic pressing against his junk. Matt pulled forward and stepped off, allowing the sexy daddy to sit up and check himself out.
Hector was awestruck for a moment, then frantically started on the gasket screws; Matt immediately dropped to his knees to help, and before long the chamber fell into two halves, Hector’s monstrous junk finally free. He stood up, legs wide apart to account for the garbage bag sized junk hanging between his legs, and took a few difficult steps away from the chair. He tentatively thrusted his hips forward, and felt his huge heavy nuts swing like a wrecking ball forward and backward between his legs, only a few inches from the floor. His bloated cock immediately started to engorge, impossibly becoming even bigger. The drainpipe-thick dick stuck aggressively out from his crotch, a foot and a half long, bloated and fat from pumping. He reached down with both hands and gave the slick shaft a squeeze, his knees almost buckling from the pleasure that shot through him. The flesh was taught and spongy and slick with Matt’s lube. He turned to face Matt with a look of disbelief.
“I don’t know how you’ve done this lad, or why, and I don’t care.” Oops. Jig’s up Matt thought as Hector strode over and kissed Matt hard, before dropping to his knees and hugging his heavy sack close, kneading and squeezing the huge jiggling globe. His nuts were big enough that the otherwise spherical blob was distended at the sides and bottom, his actual testicles pushing against the fleshy boundary. Jesus, he thought, they’re like pumpkins. He looked up at Matt, steely intensity in his eyes. “On all fours, lad” he stated, one hand stroking his huge slick shaft.
Matt grinned like a kid at Christmas and did as he was told; Hector practically leapfrogged over his huge sack and knelt behind him, marvelling at the proportions of Matt’s figure, rangy shoulders tapering in to a strong core then flaring out to the biggest ass Hector had ever had the pleasure of eating. He pulled Matt’s cheeks apart, admiring the puffy donut hole squished between them, slick and begging for attention. He pressed the end of his cock, the head consumed by his fat pumped foreskin, up against the quivering pucker. He was going to tease Matt for a bit, but apparently the younger man had other ideas because he immediately thrust himself backwards, five or so inches of Hector’s cock disappearing between the bouncing mounds instantly. Hector grinned ferally and grabbed Matt around his waist, pulling him roughly onto his dick the rest of the way. In hardly any time at all, Hector was looking down at Matt’s fat butt bouncing against his pelvis as he thrust his meaty dick into him over and over.
“Ohhh…” Matt moaned as he felt the huge pole punching into him. This guy really knows how to pound a guy out, he thought. Matt’s hole was buzzing, consuming all his attention. In his mind’s eye he pictured Hector ready to pump again, but this time Matt was hauling over a vacuum chamber the size of a dumpster. He didn’t even need to finish the daydream before he heard Hector start to groan and pant. Matt felt his thick rubbery hole start to stretch further as the daddybear’s cock continued to grow. He heard a scraping of metal on stone, and realised the sling chair was being pushed away – Hector was vaguely aware of a cold feeling on his sack, as his nuts swelled hugely out behind him, pushing the frame of the chair across the stone floor. Matt dared a look back over his shoulder, and saw Hector pounding away madly, eyes glued to the base of his cock, watching as it grew thicker and thicker, splitting Matt’s fat butt in half more and more. Matt saw Hector’s colossal nuts behind him, growing fast. Hector opened his eyes and saw Matt looking back at him. He met his stare and smiled wide and warm.
“This – is all – I’ve ever – wanted – lad,” he said, panting and thrusting. Hector was briefly pulled back to his senses when he felt a warm cushioning against his butt, and looked back to see his ballsack had grown to his kneeling hip height, an extra-large skin-coloured beanbag behind him, wobbling with every thrust of his pelvis. “Ahahaha!” he laughed, triumph and elation in his voice. “Bigger lad, bigger!” he said with a grin. He needn’t have said anything – Matt was already working on it.
George was supremely overwhelmed by the feeling of being so intensely stretched and penetrated, but he tried to get his thoughts together enough to look around the room. Matt and the new guy were slowly disappearing from view behind an enormous inflating ballsack. Jal and Gareth had transformed into what appeared to be a powerful fighter and sorcerer duo from an epic fantasy game, and judging by the look in his eye and the twitch in his cock, Gareth looked ready to split Jal in half. Well, he thought to himself, if I’m gonna get reamed by mammoth god cock I better go get involved.
He began to get off the monolith, and it was taking all his willpower to keep going, because every fibre of his being screamed to stay put. Feeling so full and stretched was exactly how he wanted to feel, as much as possible. He kept going, trying to focus on the orgasmic sensation of the textured rubber pinging the thousands of nerve endings in his girthy cavernous hole, rather than the frustration of having to give it up. I’m gonna have to watch myself, he thought. This could get addictive.
At the halfway point he stopped. He wasn’t ready to completely dismount just yet. He reached back and yanked his hole open a little, more cum gushing out over the shaft and his hand. He let it snap back – a whimper escaping his lips – and brought his slick hand around and under his gut to give his still natural cock a slow stroke, while he observed the others.
Jal and Gareth were breathing heavily, looking into each other’s eyes, as Gareth massaged Jal’s big throbbing hole and he in turn stroked Gareth’s burgeoning cock. He could only get his big hand two thirds of the way around, and it was still steadily growing. Finally reaching a point where it was too much to wait any longer, Jal was on his knees in a flash, kissing and sucking at Gareth’s cock while he fisted his own expansive musclebutt. Seeing his lover’s manhood glistening and slick with spit and precum, Jal turned, got down on all fours and reached back with one hand to pull a buttcheek to the side, as if to show Gareth the target he should be aiming for.
Gareth saw Jal’s big beefy hole squished between two similarly big beefy cheeks, and his cock throbbed aggressively. Whilst Jal’s form was considerably denser, broader and more thickly muscled than his own, they were equally tall, so when he knelt behind the giant, his dick was at the perfect height. Gareth looked down, his eyes trailing down his lithe, powerful frame, to the root of his cock. Jal deserves the best fuck I can give him, he thought. His dick was almost the length of his thigh, as thick as a soda bottle, and beautifully proportioned. He pressed his cockhead against Jal’s waiting hole, at which point the huge musclebear let his buttcheek go, sandwiching a quarter of his dick between the two huge hairy buttocks. In moments Jal felt his buttcrack slick with warm precum, and Gareth slowly teased the big man’s hole with his cockhead, before slipping it slowly in.
Jal groaned as he felt his eager hole stretch open, the meaty ring squishing between Gareth’s invading cock and his big cheeks. He hadn’t been fucked good and proper for ages – people took in Jal’s huge frame and just assumed ‘power top’, but really he was as versatile as they come—and he knew Gareth was the best one for the job. He wanted to see how far Gareth could push him. Jal pushed back on Gareth’s cock, urging him inside; Gareth smiled and thrust in to the hilt in one move. Jal’s initial gasp quickly turned into a growl, as he rocked his hips and fucked himself on Gareth’s tool.
Heh, so he wants to get right down to it, Gareth thought to himself with a smile. Fine by me! Gareth grabbed the giant around waist with both hands and began to thrust, slowly at first but hard, and gradually reached a steady rhythm. He grinned as Jal growled and arched his back, rocking back against each thrust, pounding his ass into Gareth’s pelvis. Right, let’s do this, Gareth thought, as he began to grow again. Matt and Hector were preoccupied, and Jal was facing away, so only George was able to see Gareth growing taller. His posture slouched as he had to lean slightly to keep a hold of Jal’s waist, lifting him up and continuing to thrust into him even as his hips moved further from the ground. Jal could feel Gareth growing bigger inside him, and felt himself being lifted slightly off the ground; realising what was happening, he followed suit.
George watched, mouth agape, at the scene unfolding across the room. In just minutes, Gareth must have been seven feet tall on his knees. His black hair, thick and wavy, had reached his lower back, and was whipping around behind him occasionally as though he were facing a light headwind. He had released Jal’s waist and had his arms by his sides, his broad shoulders sitting back to offset his relentless thrusting. His musculature had thickened somewhat but was still more dense than large. George had to squint, but it looked like his nails had grown into dark claws, and there was a faint purple tinge in the skin at his extremities. He stared at Gareth’s powerful thighs and butt flexing with each movement, and envied Jal the powerful pounding being delivered to him.
Jal on the other hand had blown up huge. He looked to match Gareth in height, but was probably twice as wide as the princely giant behind him. George could see his enormous meaty pecs hanging down under him, his tank of a musclegut hanging further still. His arms were as thick as Gareth’s thighs, and his thighs were as thick as Gareth’s waist. His ass had gotten even larger, his keg-sized glutes covered in a thick layer of firm fat, a truly prodigious bubbly bear butt; it bounced hypnotically with each thrust. George chuckled, thinking that with the profound shelves created by Jal’s thick gut and thicker butt, his feet would stay dry in a downpour. He had no idea when it happened, but an intricate network of blue-black tattoos had blossomed over two thirds of Jal’s body; knotwork and totem designs, runes, geometric patterns, all incorporating nodes linked by thick block lines in between.
George could only glimpse the base of Gareth’s cock, all but obscured by Jal’s monstrous butt, but he could see it was getting disproportionately large to his already intimidating size. His hole twitched in envy, and he decided he needed to act soon. He reluctantly hauled himself off the tree-sized toy he was currently stuffed with, and walked over to the two giants. He couldn’t explain it, but he could practically feel the energy coming off them. It was like walking towards a tornado, but he felt it in his head instead of on his skin. A tiny part of him wanted to turn tail and run, and watch from a distance, but he was so desperately horny it wasn’t too hard to ignore. He stood in front of Jal – nearly eye to eye despite Jal being on all fours. Jal’s head hung down, his long hair obscuring his face; he appeared to be completely oblivious to George’s presence as he grunted and bucked against each of Gareth’s powerful thrusts. George knew the feeling. He walked down the side of the enormous man, and eyed off maybe a foot and a half of clearance between the ground and his big gut. Jal’s rock hard cock held firm against the curve of his belly, up past his navel, easily over two feet long – large in proportion with his new size, certainly, but by no means huge – at least, not by George’s new definition. There’s no way I can fit under there, George thought, as he got down on the ground and reviewed how feasible it would be to shimmy underneath the huge beast.
George heaved himself back onto his feet, resigned to having to leave Jal and Gareth to themselves. His attention returned to the monstrous wall-mounted dildo he’d just dismounted, but it was then stolen by what Hector and Matt were up to.
Hector was sweating as he pounded away furiously at the gorgeous young man in front of him. He was growing like he’d never thought possible – like shouldn’t be possible – and he loved it without question. It was obviously this lad that was doing it, but whoever he was, Hector adored him. He reached back with one hand, stroking his still expanding sack, now at height with his lower back. Fuck it must be three foot high, he thought, and twisted one of his feet inward so he could give the huge blob a jiggle. It felt intensely erotic, his swollen nuts bobbing around inside the enormous balloon. Then, he had a ridiculous idea.
He slowly got to his feet, Matt having no choice but to follow suit since two feet of Hector’s dick was still inside him. He hugged Matt around the belly and pivoted them around, swinging one leg over his huge sack so it now lay in front of them, and lay Matt on top of it. He didn’t even have to get back down on his knees to resume pounding away at the young stud, who was now happily lying on top of Hector’s huge nuts. “Ahh, better,” he said, finally being able to see his massive sack in all its glory, relishing the slight pressure created by Matt lying on his stomach over it, and the bounce made by each of his thrusts.
Oh my god this is amazing, Matt thought, lying on the jiggly warm globe, Hector thrusting deep inside him. He could feel Hector still slowly growing inside him, stretching him wider. He could feel the beach ball sized nuts in Hector’s huge bloated sack roiling angrily with cum, aching for release. Hector’s thrusts were getting harder, his breathing heavier; he wasn’t going to last much longer. In one final surge of growth, Matt felt himself stretched blissfully wide as Hector finally hit one foot in girth, knees turning to jelly as his prostate was pounded relentlessly. The warm waterbed of a ballsack he was laid on swelled, the jiggly hemisphere topping out at standing hip height, a good six feet across. He could feel Hector’s monstrous nuts inside, full to bursting, ready to explode.
“Cum for me big man, fill me up! I need it!” Matt’s goading was all it took to push Hector over the edge. He clamped his hands down around Matt’s waist, holding him in place, as he thrust in to the hilt and roared. Hector had never cum so hard in his life; it felt like the orgasm was vibrating through his whole body. Matt felt Hector’s hot load pouring into him, blissful warmth filling him and, unable to reach his dick, humped Hector’s huge sack until he came, his own objectively huge but comparatively tiny load seeping down the inside of his thick thighs. Hector flooded Matt’s guts with his seemingly unending load, and Matt’s weight massaging his nuts only made him cum harder. Matt bounced himself back onto his feet, stood up but still bent over at the waist, as he felt the warm relaxed pressure in his abdomen build. He sighed with joy and relief as he brought his hands down to his belly and felt it expanding, warm and tight, as Hector filled him up. Hector hadn’t released his vice grip from around Matt’s waist, and was bucking against him as he continued to shoot.
Matt had to put his hands on his knees to brace the weight building on his torso. The smooth curve of his jiggly cumgut ran from right under his pecs down to his Adonis belt, and bent horizontally like this, hung down to his knees, heavy and tight. And it was still growing. Hector felt his nuts clench more and more desperately, as if sensing him getting tired but determined to empty. He desperately wished he could squeeze them. He looked down and marvelled at the foot-wide root of his impossibly huge dick splitting Matt’s fat bubble butt in half, stretching him amazingly wide. He began to pull out and thrust back into him in powerful short strokes, determined to milk out as much of his load as possible. Matt was becoming very foggy headed, drunk on the sensation of being so utterly filled with Hector’s huge cock and huger load. He barely registered the feeling of his bloated belly pushing against his arms and thighs as it continued to grow. He vaguely noticed Hector’s profound nuts appear to relax, and heard Hector’s breathing slow down.
Hector, finally spent, released Matt’s waist and pulled out. And kept pulling out. He had to take a couple of steps back for his entire cock to leave Matt’s body, the smaller man practically having to half climb onto his enormous nuts just to get enough space between them. His still mostly hard cock stuck out proudly, hanging down slightly. George gawked at the sight, and reckoned it must have been the size of the big black dildo he was using earlier. Hector marvelled at the perfect cock, still looking fresh from the pump, tight and bloated.
Matt struggled to half roll, half bounce himself off Hector’s sack, but managed to get to his feet. He looked down and admired his taut bouncy gut; it didn’t quite match George’s yoga ball-sized belly from earlier, but was easily in beach ball territory. Matt couldn’t get over the weight of it, how it pulled him slightly off balance whenever he moved. He took a few steps towards Hector and kissed him, smiling as he felt the massive load shift and slosh inside him. Hector marvelled at the incredibly erotic sight in front of him, his cum-bloated lover in the foreground and his monumental sack behind.
George looked over to where Hector had returned to the sling chair, and was sleepily sucking himself off. He turned his attention to Matt. “Hey sexy,” Matt said in greeting as George ambled over, gut bobbing and swaying, “I totally get it now”. Matt grinned and smacked the side of his bloated belly, and George swore he almost heard a tiny ‘pom’ sound resonate within. He walked up to Matt and bounced his gut into him, forcing his smaller friend to take a half-step backwards to maintain his balance since he hadn’t grown the supporting musculature George had to accommodate the weight. They both laughed.
Matt brought his hand up and gave his cumgut a slight shake. “Well it’s not quite up to your level but it’s a start. And you’re right it feels amazing. Hey…” Matt looked George over. “You look a little smaller than before”.
George gestured behind him, and Matt’s jaw dropped as he realised what the enormous flesh-coloured pylon jutting from the wall actually was. “I lost some getting on and off of that thing,” George said, feigning nonchalance. “And yeah. Was hoping the big guy back there-” George gestured over his shoulder behind him to where Jal and Gareth were – “could give me a proper going over but he’s dead to the world. Reckon I would be too if I was getting rammed like that”.
“Why don’t you just grow it then? You know you can do that right?” Matt asked.
“Yeah I know, but…I dunno…” George looked down and felt his bouncy gut harden and expand, sitting higher, as his core muscles grew thicker, softening as a good layer of blubber built up over the outside. He gave it a half-hearted shake. “It’s just not the same. There’s the size sure but the feeling isn’t there”. He undid his work, his ballbelly returning to its previous size and bouncy state.
Matt’s cock rapidly doubled in size to a good foot and a half long, thick as his bicep. “Maybe I could help?” Matt asked, smiling, shaking his rubbery half-hard salami at George, globs of cum whipping off it in all directions.
George laughed, shielding his eyes from the spray with one hand and slapping at Matt’s cock with the other. “Haha hey stop that, my ass is one thing but I don’t need it in my eyes! And yeah I guess, but didn’t you like just cum?”
Matt blinked for a moment and then laughed, at first in surprise but then hard and loud, to the point where he was bent over wheezing when he finally stopped. He looked up red-faced, and smiled at George’s confused expression. “Sorry, sorry. It just struck me that we’re in an Aztec god’s dungeon sex temple while two ten-foot giants are fucking in the corner and the three of us look like we’ve stepped out of some seriously fetishy porn comic, but you’re concerned about the practicality of me cumming again so soon. Like this whole thing is ridiculous and such a down to earth question caught me off guard, I just thought it was really funny”. Matt started to chuckle again through the last few words.
George laughed. “Fair point”. He moved towards Matt and got to his knees, sitting on his feet, grabbing Matt’s cock and resting it on his shoulder. He reached up and kneaded Matt’s nuts, the previously taught melon of his ballsack now a lot slacker, his two fat, mango-sized balls clearly outlined in the soft skin. It hadn’t fully deflated from the pumped look he’d affected for Hector, but was about halfway there, soft and jiggly. “You sure they’re gonna cut it?” George asked, attempting to look up at Matt with a smirk but realising Matt’s gut probably obscured half his face.
Matt grinned. “I’ve already thought about that.”
George felt Matt’s nuts grow much heavier very quickly, the mangos falling from his grasp as they became cantaloupes, then watermelons. Within just half a minute they were already resting on the floor, and were still growing. George’s eyes bugged, and he watched mouth agape as each colossal testicle swelled to around the size of a jumbo beanbag chair behind where Matt was standing. His sack was fairly tight and held the two behemoth nuts together closely, and George briefly wondered why until he saw Matt step back and flop onto his huge sack, reclining comfortably, one arm over each orb. George snorted, trying to stifle a laugh, as his friend smiled at him from his perverse fleshy armchair. Matt bucked his hips at George, his fat cock slapping against the underside of his bouncy cumgut.
“You perverted genius. That is appalling,” George said, smirking. “I love it”. He shuffled forward on his knees and took Matt’s cock in hand, bringing the fat head to his lips. He tried to take as much of the head into his mouth as he could, and huffed when it proved too thick to manage. To Matt’s mild surprise he felt the considerable girth abate somewhat, slimming down to a still quite thick but somewhat more manageable width.
“Huh.” George looked up as Matt spoke. “That wasn’t me. Must’ve been you. I knew I could work on you guys but didn’t realise you could on me as well. That’ll be fun to explore,” he said with a wicked grin. “But not right now.” Matt bucked his hips a little, bludgeoning George in the face with his dick. George hungrily grabbed the waggling horsecock in front of him and sunk half of it down his throat in one big gulp.
Matt groaned as George expertly sucked his cock with long slow strokes, sucking the fat head and tonguing the sensitive underside before sinking half of it down his throat again. He brought his hands up to work the rest of the shaft, and soon it was slick with slobber from tip to root – there was so much drool that thick ropes of it had begun to matt the dark hair spread across the shelf of George’s meaty chest. Matt just lay back and breathed a deep, relaxed sigh, allowing his mind to go quiet as he lost himself in the feeling of George’s eager attention. He could feel the barest rumble in the monstrous nuts flanking his reclined form; it was like they’d been woken up, and were set to build a truly gargantuan load fit to fill George to capacity. Matt watched George occasionally fist himself as he went. Haha, even now he can’t leave his hole alone, Matt thought, might have to make a few changes of my own.
George suddenly stopped his slow purposeful sucking as he felt his knees press a little harder into the stone floor. It took him a second to realise where the new weight was coming from – his hips were widening, and his thighs and ass were getting thicker. The moderate powerlifter build George had taken after his encounter with Jal was softening, as his hips met and then exceeded the breadth of his powerful shoulders, his stocky build becoming more pear-shaped. George felt himself sitting taller on his feet, as his growing butt pushed him up. He walked himself forward on his hands and repositioned himself onto his hands and knees, and was amazed at the feeling of his massive hips and ass shifting from side to side as he did so. The intertia was noticeable. How big is he gonna make it? George looked up at Matt, as if asking his permission to stop and explore. Matt smiled and nodded.
It took a few tries for George to get to his feet, not used to his new centre of gravity. Matt thankfully had the courtesy to stop growing him while he was getting up, but George felt it start up again as soon as he was steady. He looked down and noticed the thick layer of firm fat that covered his frame had increased, his large dense musculature now somewhat obscured by thick blubber. He still looked strong and imposing, and masculine, but softer and a bit curvier. His staffie pup vibe had mellowed to big brown bear. George ran his hands down his sides and back to his prodigious backside; he felt wide as a desk – even with his upper bulk he was definitely bottom-heavy. He twisted around and reached down into his monstrous butt, feeling the fat cheeks wobble back and forth as he walked his fingers deeper into his buttcrack.
His frame had stopped growing, but it seemed Matt wasn’t yet done. George’s knees wobbled a little as the nerves in his bloated butthole fired, intense pleasure washing over him, as his already big hole blew up to match his new dimensions. Coherent thought fled George’s mind, all he could do was try and keep his breathing steady and his knees locked as waves of pleasure crashed over him. His hand still buried in his massive butt, he felt a swell start to reach the tips of his fingers, growing up and out. He brushed the spongy, sensitive flesh with his fingertips and groaned loudly. Eventually the feeling eased, and he could think clearly again. There was something huge smooshed between his couch cushion-sized cheeks. George probed his crack a little further, and his eyes widened as he felt the impossibly plump, bundt cake sized ring of his springy sensitive butthole. George groaned and whimpered as he tried to fist himself, but due to his elephantine backside wasn’t able to reach far enough back. He just managed to grab a fistful of the meaty ring and kneaded it urgently, but it paled in comparison. He looked up at Matt in awe.
“Me first,” Matt said, gesturing at his unattended cock with one hand and slapping one of his massive nuts with the other. “Then you.”
George was equal parts amazed and frustrated, realising that Matt had used his buttpiggery against him to keep him focussed on the task at hand. He turned around and leant forward, as best as he could anyway, and pulled one enormous cheek to the side, a heavy fold appearing along the outside of the vast expanse of flesh. He teased Matt with a glimpse of his handiwork, his monstrous glistening ring flexing for attention. Matt’s breath caught, his cock bucked and his mouth watered, immediately wishing he could bury his face in the chunky Greek boy’s colossal hindquarters, before George let his cheek slap back into position and turned around, withdrawing it from view. As much as he could, at least. Grr. I guess I deserved that, Matt thought, smiling to himself. Must get some time to ourselves and really bottom out together.
George felt his bulk shake as he got back down to his knees, and returned his attention to Matt’s cock. It was already leaking precum at a fairly steady rate, and within minutes George’s face and upper body were shiny and slick as he sucked and swallowed the huge tool. He let his hands fall from Matt’s shaft long enough to slowly rub the slippery goo all over his fat hairy pecs and bulbous gut, lifting it and letting it fall, loving the feeling of the weight of it, and of the gallons of cum sloshing inside. Matt on the other hand had already started to feel the tingle in his stomach mounting, knowing George wouldn’t have to work at it for too long, and could feel his monstrous nuts twitching and churning.
George tried to focus and keep his attention in the moment, to properly enjoy the experience of servicing the delicious cock in front of him, but the intense desire to get filled was repeatedly overwhelming him. It had only been a few hours since his encounter with Jal, but he’d been itching to get filled ever since; now, so close to his goal, he was eschewing the journey for the destination. George sucked and deepthroated and stroked in a frenzy, as if trying to find some secret sequence of actions that would instantly unlock Matt’s load from its enormous prisons. Matt’s groans had become louder, his panting deeper, as he approached climax. Much like George, Matt’s interest in enjoying the experience waned fast – with nuts this size he was desperate to cum, he felt so pent up it was like he hadn’t cum in weeks. His position shifted as his monstrous nuts pulled closer to him, forcing him up onto his feet. “Get ready,” he panted urgently, and saw George’s eyes practically sparkle in anticipation.
Matt roared as his colossal nuts finally began to unload. George locked down on the head of Matt’s cock, and for a second the torrent of cum shot down his throat without him even having to swallow, but the first volley was violent enough to knock him clean off almost immediately. Matt caught the briefest glimpse of George’s face, cum pouring from his mouth and nose, before he was quickly drenched head to toe in Matt’s deluge. George tried to get his mouth back over Matt’s cock, but the torrent of jizz was being expelled with such pressure he might as well have been trying to suck a firehose. George dropped to his hands and knees, and inelegantly pivoted himself around, his massive bulk shaking with each movement, and backed his gigantic butt towards his goal.
Even though Matt’s mind was considerably fogged, he was still present enough to get up, angle his cock down slightly and take a wobbly half-step forward, his knees almost failing from the ecstasy overwhelming him. He felt the head of his cock press between George’s elephantine buttcheeks, and find the huge bloated hole he’d made earlier. George half-moaned, half-whimpered as he felt his hole finally get the attention it so sorely needed, and he backed himself up a little further. He immediately felt himself getting flooded with Matt’s truly prodigious load, the warm thick liquid quickly replacing the volume he’d lost earlier. Matt watched every muscle in George’s cum-covered form relax as soon as he felt himself enter him, finally getting his fix. Gallons of cum were blasting back out of George’s enormous rear, soaking Matt and causing a huge puddle to rapidly form beneath the two men. Not big enough for his new hole, Matt thought, and agonisingly summoned enough focus to will himself to grow. Matt watched as his manhood swelled and billowed with new growth, splitting George’s cheeks wider and wider and stretching his inflated fleshy hole to new limits. Matt reigned his growth in as his girth became sufficient to more or less dam the backflow, but even this was only around half of George’s considerable width; he could only guess at the length since everything beyond the first two feet were buried in George’s gargantuan rump. Matt was so thick that George’s huge hairy cheeks barely met at the top and were splayed apart at the bottom, his taint stretched down towards the floor, his bloated hole completely on display.
The second Matt’s new growth created a stronger seal, George felt the volume pumping into him increase threefold. He moaned, drunk with lust, as gallons and gallons of warm spunk surged into him by the second. His previously bulbous but still reasonably solid gut swelled outwards, feeling more like a water balloon at this size, his powerlifter ballbelly a thing of the past. George was pushed up onto his knees as Matt fed his cumgut, unable to keep his hands on the ground for the growing ball underneath him. He let his arms hang limply to his sides, supporting his weight entirely on his gut, and felt it slowly reach and then exceed the width of his thick torso. He stroked and kneaded the bulbous mass underneath him, felt it bob and jiggle, and he moaned from deep in his chest.
Upstairs, Zarco reclined contentedly in his office-cum-lounge, a half glass of red wine on the table next to him, leaning into the almost valium-like fugue fuelled by the unrestrained lustful hedonism going on in his temple downstairs. But, distracted though he was, on the edge of his awareness he noticed the barest hint of an external influence coming through. He reluctantly pulled himself to full focus and concentrated; it felt like something was both trying to get into the building and already inside at the same time. Growling through gritted teeth at having to let go of the euphoria he’d been enjoying, Zarco cast his awareness across his demesne to try and see who was trying to pull a fast one on his patch. In his mind’s eye he could see the clubgoers downstairs, faintly aglow with Zarco’s favour whether they knew it or not. And beneath them, his new friends in his temple, flaring bright as stage lights as Jal’s power flowed through and around them, mingling with a little of his own.
Then one started to flicker.
Zarco blinked downstairs, not sure what to expect. He only had a second to take in the tableau of debauchery fuelling his reluctantly-suppressed buzz before he felt the air get thick and heavy. The ambient light in the room, which seemed to come from nowhere, dimmed slightly, and slowly developed an indigo tinge to it. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, no one’s tried to make a power play for decades. And who’d be dumb enough to try something under hatchetface’s nose? No one local has the juice to just breeze through my boundaries like this…
As the men present noticed the change in the room, everyone slowed and stopped; tension and fear replacing the frenzied arousal suffusing the air only moments before. With all thoughts of sex banished, the toys and equipment promptly disappeared, the room reverting to an empty underground vault. Anxiety-fuelled reflex forced Matt to shrink back to his usual dimensions. Jal began to disengage from Gareth, revealing just how ponderously massive Gareth’s cock had grown within him, though this too was now shrinking back to a more proportional size – compared to his ten-foot frame, anyway.
Jal got to his feet and took two thundering steps towards Zarco, just over twice his height. “I take it this isn’t your doing,” he asked looking down, his calm tone and booming delivery an odd contrast.
The smaller man looked up at his giant friend, seeing his eyes glowing gold in the dim light. “No. And I can’t think of a political reason to explain this either. The local drama is pretty tame.” He quickly took stock. Something was coming. He gestured quickly at George and Hector – both immobile, though for different reasons – and cast them abruptly back into the forms they held when they entered the club. George staggered a bit, in seconds going from mammoth-butted cum blimp to the form he’d woken up with after his encounter with Gareth. His fight-or-flight response firmly overwhelmed any objection that might have sprung up in his mind. Zarco called out across the room. “Get ready, we’re about to have company!” Gareth, Zarco and Jal adopted defensive poses, as Matt, George and Hector backed away to the edges of the room. Matt tried to catch Gareth’s eye, bewildered as to why his friend would think he could hold his own in what was apparently going to be some kind of divine skirmish, but his still-giant friend just moved next to Jal and glared stony faced towards the middle of the huge room. The seconds felt like hours. The companions held, the tension mounting agonisingly, waiting for something to happen.
The grinding of stone moving against stone broke the silence, slowly, as in the centre of the room the floor began to fall away, brick by brick. As the pit grew, the air grew heavy with the smell of brackish water and resinous wood, of heather and honey and dried blood. By the time it was around three feet wide, blue-grey smoke blew slowly up from the torn ground, briefly coalescing into thick smog obscuring several square feet around the crater, before dissipating. Two figures were revealed as the smoke cleared, standing on the edge of the pit.
The larger of the two figures looked like she’d stepped out of some ancient bas relief. As the smoke faded, the silhouette coming into focus appeared increasingly bizarre. At first, it was just that she was quite tall, maybe seven and a half feet. As things became clearer, the outline of her head seemed too jagged, and her arms hung out strangely. Gold and silver shone from her more brightly as the thinning smoke stopped diffusing the light. When she was finally fully revealed, Zarco, Jal and Gareth seemed fairly unfazed – the others however looked on in horror as the interloper looked around the room, assessing the situation. Her head had three faces, accounting for the odd outline, each mouth bearing long, sharp fangs. The gold shone from an ornate breastplate, vambraces and greaves. The silver reflected off the weapons she wielded in each of her six arms. Her skin was warm and tan, her eyes cold and black.
Her companion on the other hand was far more ordinary. Almost aggressively ordinary – average height, build, complexion, mousy hair and brown eyes. He wore sneakers, jeans and a black polo. As Matt cast his eye between the two, his mind couldn’t seem to hang on to the man’s features, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of some trick or the juxtaposition with the awe-inspiring creature he was stood beside. At the sight of Zarco and the naked, tattooed giant stood next to him, the ordinary man seemed to tense up. “What the fuck Grozda—you said there’d only be one of them?!” he hissed in a harsh stage whisper.
“What does it matter?” she said, stating rather than asking, her three mouths speaking in unison with near-identical tone sounding jarring and buzzy. Hector, lacking direct investiture from Jal, found the sound incredibly unsettling on a deeply primitive level; he slid down the wall and sat on the ground, trying to make himself as small. As she said this, she shifted her bare foot forward on the stone floor, adopting a readied stance and raising her arsenal. Her upper left arm wielded a scimitar, the other two supporting a large shield. Her right arms bore a second scimitar, a javelin, and a large mace.
Zarco spoke up, his voice ringing loud despite speaking normally. “I see you, crone. Who sends a Herald into my dominion?”
“Keep your pathetic pile of stone!” she yelled, Zarco’s eyes widening as she began to charge. Fearsome though she was, he recognised the grace in her movements. Her steps were light, her core elastic, effortlessly adjusting her centre of gravity with each step to compensate for the weight of her weapons. She moved more like a dancer than a warrior.
As soon as Grozda began to move, Jal’s enormous chest expanded as he took a deep breath. As he exhaled, frigid air streamed violently as a stinging gale railed against the intruders, thick hoarfrost forming on the stone floor. Grozda looked as if she were about to slip, and had to abandon her charge to adjust her footing. Her eyebrows rose imperceptibly as if overhearing something, then her left face sneered as she pivoted to hurl the javelin at Matt. He instinctively raised his arms, forearms crossed as if to protect himself, but the spear went wide and fell to the floor as Jal redirected his gale to disrupt its flight. The wind now spent, Jal roared in outrage as a massive waraxe appeared in his hands, and he strode forward, golden eyes flaring. The naked giant was an awe inspiring sight; there was a twist in his gait as his huge thighs rolled around each other, repeatedly shifting his intimidating tackle from side to side, each powerful step causing his thick rump to bounce then flex solid.
Jal jogged the last few steps, swinging the huge axe up and to the right; Grozda twisted and brought up her shield, stone cracking under the heel of her back foot as she absorbed the force of the blow. Bright, sharp pain raced up the nerves in her two shield arms, causing them to briefly fail and the shield to sag down, but she had already brought the mace up as she twisted back around, striking Jal’s left shoulder front-on with a sickening crunch. Jal felt his arm instantly numb as his shoulder and clavicle shattered. No longer able to support the waraxe properly he took a half-step back and released the haft from his left hand. Turning on the spot, he let the inertia of his previous swing carry the weapon in a 360 degree arc around him and down into Grozda’s flank. She nimbly darted back quickly enough to avoid losing her head, but screamed in shrill discordant harmony as the axe bit clear through her right sword arm and deep into the one beneath it.
Zarco watched the ordinary man discretely distance himself from his comrade, circling towards Gareth. Gareth’s attention was focussed on Jal squaring up with the battle dancer and hadn’t noticed. Ah, so that’s why she’s being so flashy he thought, old trick but a good one. Zarco suspected, however, that it was not that simple. Even if they were only expecting one god and not two, they must have known he would have a huge advantage on his home turf, so they either had an ace to play, or their patron sent them in blind. Mustn’t get cocky, he thought to himself. Zarco closed the space between him and Gareth where Jal had formerly stood.
He nudged Gareth in the ribs. “She’s a distraction. You’re the prize. Mr Average over there only has eyes for you. I’d squirrel you away somewhere but I can’t afford to have this spill upstairs, it’d be a massacre. We’ll have to deal with this here.”
Gareth was not, by nature, an angry person. He was a relaxed, considerate, outgoing guy who took people as they were and enjoyed life in general. But having these people interrupt him and Jal, break rules that were apparently just basic courtesy amongst divines, attack his god and his best friend, had sparked a feeling in him he was not comfortable or familiar with. A confusing maelstrom of manic incredulity, indignance and righteous fury boiled up inside him. Sharp pain in his hands pulled him back to focus, and he looked down to see he’d started to clench his fists; but the claws he’d grown earlier – which he had not been aware of – had just broken the skin on his palms. He looked at these unfamiliar hands, dark claws grown from purple fingertips that mottled to lilac and then to pale ivory skin at the knuckle. He didn’t recognise these hands, but the fury inside him did.
“You said prize. As in, you think they want me alive?”
“That’s my guess. Average is the one shadowing you and he doesn’t look built for combat. He’s clearly meant to blend in to the background while she’s the centre of attention, though that in itself could be a double bluff. Still, smells like a snatch and grab to me.” At this, Gareth sighed as if relieved, but in an oddly cold and dispassionate way.
Some instinctual part of Gareth knew that wherever these hands came from was the place to put this rage, and at Zarco’s reply he closed his eyes and let himself sink into it, feeling his body change. He felt his arms grow slightly longer, thick bone spurs erupting from his elbows. He relaxed his jaw as the mandible joint shifted further back, skull subtly elongating to accommodate the new position. The profile of his cheekbones became sharper, the angle matched by a ridge-like continuation of his brown bone forming across his upper temples. He opened his eyes and looked down, watching with detached satisfaction as the wicked claws extended further.
From across the room, Matt watched transfixed as his friend transformed, quite quickly, into this alien predatory form, terrifying and somehow beautiful at once. He watched Gareth turn and make eye contact with him, and felt the briefest moment of relief seeing that behind those fierce eyes his friend was clearly still in there. Gareth then abruptly snapped his focus toward something Jal and the war maiden’s melee obscured Matt’s view of. Gareth smiled at whatever held his interest, and Matt’s stomach dropped as the smile grew too wide, jaw hanging open too low and too far back, revealing double rows of perfect, cruelly sharp teeth. Gareth’s posture slouched, shoulders loose and core tight, and he sprinted forward.
Grozda’s severed arm fell to the floor, scimitar clattering out of its now-limp grasp. With one brachial artery severed and another likely damaged, Jal had expected her to flag within seconds, but the wounds closed over almost immediately. The damage was done – the arm remained lost and the one below limp at her side – but it seemed she wasn’t going to make things easy by bleeding out. She raised her shield and shoved forward, beating it against Jal’s torso and forcing him to take a few stumbling steps backward to maintain his balance. She looked ready to advance again, but looked down in surprise as the ground beneath her started to shake and shift. An imposing aura crashed against her mind from across the room; Grozda blinked as though she were seeing stars, and looked up.
Zarco’s form flickered irregularly, superimposed with the image of a tall Nahua man in heavily embellished ceremonial dress, complemented by an abundance of ornate gold and turquoise jewellery. Both forms had gritted teeth and clenched fists. The stone floor under and around Grozda began to bulge, stones forced up and aside by thick root-like growths snaking up and along the surface of the ground. She heard a creaking to her left, the eyes on her left face darting down just in time to see an impossibly large Acacia thorn violently shoot forth from the newly grown wood. The six-foot spine glanced off her shield, more due to chance than reflex, and knocked her off balance. Quickly taking stock of the dozens of growths metastasizing up through the disrupted stonework, she dropped the shield and remaining weapons, cartwheeling backwards as another almost skewered her through the thigh.
The now-unarmed invader leapt, slid, back flipped and pirouetted her way further and further back as spear after unrelenting spear burst forth from the ground. Finally the assault seemed to stop, and she realised she had been beat all the way back to the edge of the pit they’d opened earlier. A half-cage of Acacia spines prevented her from regaining her ground. Jal, Matt and George looked on, expecting her to rage against the barrier or shout a retreat to her ally, but instead she visibly sagged, unsteady on her feet. Zarco walked calmly across the room, closing the distance between them, the primordial thorns retreating as he neared them. His customary air of comfortable flamboyance had returned, feeling secure in his victory, and smiled as he saw her failing muscles and dilated pupils.
“Wonderful stuff, Tlitliltzin. Stronger than Datura if you prepare it right.” Zarco smugly gestured at the telltale five inch scratch across Grozda’s upper thigh. She didn’t bother looking down, instead groggily holding his gaze, her mouth starting to sag open a little. “We haven’t met; name’s Zarco, though in another life they called me the Prince of Flowers. You’re in for quite a trip. We’ll talk when you get back”.
Gareth’s fantastical predatory form flew towards the average looking man, claws splayed and jaw lolling open like a jackal. He closed the distance in mere seconds, and raised his right arm up to take a swing at his smaller prey. As he skid to a halt and brought his hand down, expecting to feel his claws rake through the man’s torso, he found he was swiping at empty air. Mr Ordinary flickered back into view ten or so feet away, nervously looking between Gareth and his backflipping ally. Gareth dropped low on his haunches, cords of muscle tensing as he leapt at his target. Again, he connected with nothing, and looked about to see Mr Ordinary flicker into being next to the pit, opposite where Grozda was now being chided by Zarco. Gareth, increasingly furious, leapt again.
Matt watched, confused, as his friend kept aiming at nothing. The seemingly nondescript man was quick, but to Matt it was like Gareth couldn’t see properly. The spots he was landing were several feet out from where his target had actually been. As he watched his friend leap for a second time, he felt the blood drain from his face, his mouth dry. Time slowed to a crawl, as he watched his friend leap straight into the pit the intruders had opened, pouncing on a target that wasn’t there.
The average man leapt clear across the pit – further than any normal person could – catching his ally by one of the leather straps binding her breastplate across the shoulder, and allowed himself to fall backwards, dragging Grozda down into the pit with him.
The room was silent for a beat as peoples’ minds caught up with them, and then echoed with footfalls as everyone rushed to the edge of the pit. It was already starting to close over by the time Matt got to the edge, just in time to see the three figures disappear into darkness. As the pit closed over, Zarco and Jal exchanged concerned looks, while Matt fell in a heap, sobbing.