The berries down by the creek

By Krisiar 
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Jack woke up in the morning in the same old bed he’d always slept in. He was twenty-two years old, fresh back from college, and he still lived with his parents. He’d always been sort of a slob, unkempt, always had a dirty room, always ran late. It always seemed like he was two steps behind everyone.

Of course, with all this came the fact that he was a little fat. He was 5’7” and his family wasn’t really predisposed to being skinny, but for the first couple of years of his life, Jack had been quite stringy. But with these past four years of stagnancy and growing laziness at college, Jack had grown dumpy. As he got out of bed and ran his hand through his greasy, dirty-blond hair, he looked at himself in the mirror and promised himself—just like he did every morning—that he’d go out for a run later in the day.

“And do it this time!” he ordered his reflection as he headed to the shower.

But he didn’t. He never really did. He was lazy, but he didn’t really want to be. Sometimes a friend would call and invite him to go to a movie or to go to the beach. He’d go, sure, but he’d always sit back afterwards, exhausted. He was always to himself.

He showered the day’s and night’s worth of grime off his body in the shower. He had a light dusting of black body hair on his stomach and chest, but it was stringy and unattractive. Every morning while soaping up his arms and torso, Jack always thought about shaving it off—but what’s the use when what was underneath was nothing to write home about? More than anything, he wished he was built well, with some abs and a solid chest, the sort of guy who looks good in whatever he wears. He wanted to be taller, too. In fact, he really wanted to look like his friend Kurt.

Kurt was Jack’s best friend at college and, as it turned out, they lived three towns away—10 minutes along the freeway. They’d hung out already this summer, but Jack’s parents kept nagging him to get a job or work out or get a hobby—anything to occupy his time. As Jack hopped out of the shower, he looked at himself in the mirror and imagined his head on Kurt’s. Kurt had great abs, lean arms, and a block of pecs with dark brown nipples. He had that Apollo’s belt, too, the grooves that went over your hips and down to your cock. Jack loved that, and he wished he had it so bad.

As he walked into his bedroom and got out some clothes, his phone rang. It was Kurt.

“Hey, Kurt, what’s going on?”

“Nothing much,” said Kurt. “I’m bored. Like, really bored.”

“Yeah? And?”

“Fuck, man, you just want to go to a park and throw around the Frisbee or something?”

“Well,” said Jack, “There’s a disc golf course about a block away from my house. You got any discs you can use? I have plenty if you need some.”

“Nah, I’m covered. That sounds better, actually.”

“Perfect,” said Jack. “I haven’t been there in years. Not since—freshman year, I think.”

“Back when you were scrawny and skinny?” asked Kurt.

“Very funny. Anyway, you coming over soon? I just got out of the shower.”

“Well, I’ll leave now. Meet you at your house in 20, I’d say.”

“Perfect,” replied Jack. “See ya.”

Secretly, Jack was getting really boned up thinking about Kurt coming over. He always did. Kurt was a fucking stud of a guy. He wasn’t overly muscular, but he had this shag of red hair and a beautifully shaped body and ass that looked great on him. At 6’3”, he towered over Jack. Jack wished one day to shoot up past him, take him in his hands, and force him to suck his cock. All of it, even if Kurt gagged on it. Jack’s cock was pretty big already (at 5’6”, having a 7” dick is a big deal), and he imagined just how big it would be if he were over six feet tall.

Jack always fantasized about Kurt coming over to Jack’s house sweaty after a jog or lifting weights or something. Kurt was a runner, so he possessed a lithe, athletic build. His abs were always cut and his legs were always striated with well-exercised muscles. Maybe his chest could be worked on a little bit, but Jack always hoped to one day have the lean, toned look of a runner or a swimmer. Once, Jack had showed up at Kurt’s house while Kurt was out for a run. When Kurt came back, he said hey and then took a shower. Jack had sniffed Kurt’s sweaty jock as Kurt showered, cumming within minutes, imagining Kurt’s big cock (he could always see the outline of a very long uncut dick in those running shorts) leaking onto the black jock. Black was Kurt’s favorite color.

Jack got dressed for disc golf and met Kurt outside when he showed up in that green convertible of his. They drove over to the course and started right in. It was sort of windy that day, so hardly anybody was at the course.

“Whatever,” said Kurt. “More time for us. You can’t really say you’re a pro disc golfer until you can maneuver the disc in the wind, anyway. Fuck ‘em, this is awesome!”

“When’s the last time you golfed?” asked Jack.

“Last month, I guess.”

“Fuck. I haven’t thrown a disc for about three years.”

Kurt just laughed. “Whatever. You’d better go first then. I’ll finish the hole by the time you find your first throw.”

“Fuck you,” Jack said, and they laughed.

But sure enough, when Jack wound up and threw the disc towards the basket at the top of the hill, the wind caught the disc and sent it sailing into the woods. It rose so far up thanks to the gust that Jack was sure it was going to land in the creek he remembered wound through those woods.

“What did I tell you?” said Kurt.

“Shut up,” answered Jack, chuckling good-naturedly as he trudged off into the woods.

Oddly enough, he saw his white disc right away. It was nestled on the branches of a weird shrub he had never even seen before. It had dark purple leaves and flesh-colored berries protected by serious-looking thorns. He didn’t know if it was poisonous or not, but he really wanted to show up Kurt. His disc was right in the middle of a few branches, so Jack just reached right in and tugged it out.

“Fuck!” shouted Jack as a few of the thorns scratched his arm up fiercely. A few of the berries popped and droplets of their juice glistened on his arm hair.

As he held his arm up to his face to examine the slashes, he smelled the juice and remarked that it smelled like flowers. He figured one drop wouldn’t kill him even if it were poisoned, so he licked and it tasted fantastic. He picked a few berries right off the bush and ate them. The taste was incredibly different from the smell: in fact, they tasted like sweat. Salty and tart, and he stopped after the four he had thrown into his mouth. He snatched up his disc and ran to the tree line.

Kurt was standing at the basket at the end of the hole, looking at his watch.

“Fuck that asshole,” said Jack, smiling. He threw the disc at the basket vaguely, more out of anger than out of finesse.

It soared with ease. The wind didn’t dare blow. The disc landed in the basket about 200 yards away, the chains tinkling. Kurt’s mouth hung wide open and they both laughed, amazed beyond belief.

“Skills,” said Jack as soon as he caught up. “I’ve got ‘em.”

“Luck,” insisted Kurt. Neither would be convinced otherwise.

They finished the course in under an hour, and to tell the truth, they were actually both pretty wiped out. The course was hillier than most, and Jack was always winded after anything more than a flight of stairs. Tossing the discs into the back seat, Jack and Kurt hopped into the convertible and made their way back toward Jack’s house.

Butt suddenly, Jack started feeling woozy. He immediately thought back to the berries he’d eaten and knew it’d been a horrible idea. He felt queasy in his stomach and his head started spinning.

“You okay, dude?” asked Kurt.

“Nah, not at all, actually,” said Jack, laughing a little. “I don’t feel to good. Could you hurry up?”

Jack’s feet started feeling really tight in his clothes, and his neck and scalp started to itch feverishly. His face was flushed of color, bone white, and he had to breathe in and out slowly, getting fresh air in him, to stop from feeling like he was going to vomit.

“It’s okay, Jack, we’re here,” said Kurt, pulling into the driveway. Jack bolted out of the car immediately and ran into the house. He thought of asking his mother to call the hospital, but neither of his parents were in town this week: they were on vacation in California. Jack ran to the bathroom to get some pills, some medicine, whatever, but he couldn’t make it there. He tripped and fell on the living room floor, giving up.

Kurt caught up with him finally and couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Holy shit, Jack.”

Jack’s hair was shortening. It looked like it was being sucked back into his hair. And the hair itself was changing: instead of the mop of unkempt blond hair, it turned into a tidy shock of jet black hair with sideburns and a bit of dark stubble on a face that was becoming more tan and healthy looking by the minute. Not only that, but Jack’s whole body was changing. Kurt looked on—unthinking, never even having 911 cross his mind—as Jack’s shirt grew tight, the legs of his short crawled slowly up his thighs, those hairy thighs that seemed to grow more hairless as the shorts rose.

“What is it, Kurt?” asked Jack, slowly regaining clarity of mind.

Suddenly, Jack’s shoes split at the tip and his toes peeked out. Jack already wore size 12 shoes, so Kurt knew he had to have size 15 or 16 by now. Kurt of course understood by now that Jack was growing taller. Jack’s midriff peeked out from between the waistband of his athletic shorts and the bottom hem of his black t-shirt, and his legs grew long and spindly. As his body lengthened, his pudginess diminished. Jack watched as even his fingers grew longer. Hoping to move to a phone, Jack slowly stood up.

He now towered over Kurt. He had to be at least 6’10”, and he was still growing. By now, Jack’s shoulders were straining inside the now way-too-small shirt. Trying to take it off, Jack wound up ripping a hole wide open clean across the back.

“Jesus Christ, what’s happening to me?” yelled Jack, alarmed, taking off his shredded shirt.

“Holy shit, Jack! You’re ripped!” exclaimed Kurt.

Looking down, Jack saw that all of the fat he’d accumulated had dripped away, and he had some magnificent abs now. But something was weird: it wasn’t just a six pack or an eight pack. It was a twelve-pack. He was even taller than he thought he was! He lifted up his arms: he had biceps! And Kurt even noticed that he now had lats and manly balls of muscle on his shoulders, neck, and back. His neck was so thick, he looked like he’d been wrestling for years and years, and that short crop of black hair on his head made him look like he’d been a jock all his life.

“Oh God,” said Kurt, pointing at Jack’s chest. “What’s happening to you, Jack?”

As Jack looked down, he saw his chest suddenly started filling with muscle, extending outward. Before long, Jack had a shelf of muscle sitting above his twelve abs. It felt so good, actually. But then right at the peaks of his pecs, something started feeling tight, like his chest was been stretched too far. It started to hurt, and Jack started to yell with half-pain, half-pleasure.

“Holy fucking shit, Kurt!” yelled Jack. “It hurts, but man, I feel so fucking great! I am one hell of a man, aren’t I?”

“I’d say you are!” said Kurt, frightened but definitely envious. Dare he even say, he might even feel like worshipping Jack. Something was unnatural, unworldly about Jack now. The twelve pack abs, the sheer masculinity of the stud who now stood before him, and the very weird stuff happening on Jack’s pecs.

His nipples seemed to bulge outwards, enlarging, growing darker and darker, until finally they were the diameter of silver dollars and protruded the length of Jack’s thumbs. What’s more, as soon as they stopped getting longer and Jack stopped feeling such tight pressure and pain, they started to ooze cum. Kurt could tell because he couldn’t resist: he dropped his cell phone, his keys, and ran at Jack’s body and started licking it up.

“Dude,” said Kurt, worshipping his newly godly friend, “You’re leaking cum out of your chest! Fucking hot! You are a fucking stud-god of men!”

“Damn right,” said Jack. He tried flexing, and the cum spurted out like a little fountain. Kurt caught all he could in his mouth and started sucking on it. The cum came out of Jack’s nipples like milk out of a woman’s tits. And as Kurt sucked, the more cum he had in him, and the cum started transforming Kurt himself. He felt the muscle being stacked on him like it had stacked on Jack, height coming on, his hair becoming cool and dark.

But Jack was already so far ahead of Kurt. By now, he was about 7’4” and had kicked off his shoes long ago. His feet were about two full feet long and his twelve-pack had lengthened to fourteen. Finally, the elastic band of his athletic shorts tore. Along with it went Jack’s underwear. Both pairs of shorts fell to the ground to reveal that the berries had a disproportionate effect on Jack’s genitals.

Soft, Jack was about 20”, and very thick. It looked like the arm of a child hanging out of Jack’s crotch. The bursting of the fabric made Jack incredibly aroused, and what with his longtime crush Kurt worshipping his manly body, Jack’s cock got hard immediately. It filled with blood quickly, and soon before them stood Jack’s steel-hard 55” musclecock with a head that could give a watermelon a run for its money in terms of size. Simply looking at it made Jack’s cum-tits ooze even more rapidly, and Jack moaned with pleasure, overcome at his new dream body packed with muscle, long and studly.

Bending his legs, he could feel his ass lifting him up and down. Looking over his shoulder, Jack was able to see a voluptuous, beautiful, lightly-fuzzy ass, perfectly firm and shaped, resting right there below his dimpled-lower back and 34” waistline which was decorated with a beautiful Apollo’s belt. The belt was so deep that it seemed you could rest a pen in that groove that ran over his hips and hungrily descended to that godly cock that stretched out so far that Kurt decided to lie down on it.

It was just like the rest of Jack’s new god-body: incredibly strong and still growing bigger. By now, Kurt was beautifully lengthened, too, with a ten pack and some muscular cumming nipples of his own, though they could not compare to Jack’s. The cum transformation seemed to be different from the transformation Jack was going through. Instead of Kurt’s dick getting enormously large, it grew only a little bit, so that it wasn’t completely proportionate but very well sized. At 7’ even, Kurt estimated his growing cock at about 12” soft, 25” hard. It rested right on his chest when it was hard—which was immediately.

“Holy shit!” yelled Kurt in a booming voice that matched his 7’ frame. “We are fucking GODS! Nobody is as strong as us! We could do anything we want!”

“More like, you’ll do anything I want!” said Jack, now almost 8’ tall and hitting the ceiling of the room. His voice was deep and masculine, and by now he had some very coarse stubble and a faintly stubbly dusting of chest hair on those gargantuan muscletits. “You bend over, my little demigod, and I’ll fuck you so full of cum you may become as big as God Jack!”

Jack’s cock, now about 5½’ long, acted like a prehensile limb, and without moving, it found Kurt’s completely smooth, muscular, protruding ass and wedged its enormous head into the lovely hairless crack. Kurt’s asshole was transformed by Jack’s cum so it could accommodate Jack’s incredible size—but Kurt still felt all of him nonetheless.

“OH, FUCK!” boomed Jack. “I CAN FEEL IT GETTING EVEN LONGER INSIDE OF YOU!”

“Holy shit!” cried out Kurt, feeling his muscles growing quickly now from the presence of the god’s musclecock inside of his ass. “I can feel it! It’s growing by the second! I can… I can—”

Kurt felt something squirming in his stomach, worming around, and as it did, Kurt’s biceps grew to the size of soccer balls; his abs become as hard as titanium; his chest became protrusive and as round and firm as Jack’s, though still not as large. His nipples became like pepperoni and started leaking cum that dripped down onto his abs and all along his red pubes. Kurt’s ginger skin remained just like it had, only now under the relatively pale complexion were the muscles of a god, freckled beautifully and masculinely. His red hair had grown into a cool punkish mane, with some serious stubble growing on his face and neck, and his legs, ass, and arms kept growing bigger, firmer, longer, more toned, more striated with muscle to the point where the proof of his strength looked like it was going to burst right out of that white, freckled ginger skin of his.

Suddenly, the squirming sensation felt like it was right in Kurt’s heart. As Jack’s moans and grunts grew more booming and baritone, the worming feeling rose in Kurt’s chest. And then, the feeling was in Kurt’s throat. Kurt opened his mouth quickly, hoping he was fast enough, and just as he’d thought, Jack’s monstrous, earth-shattering cock of muscle and man shot out of Kurt’s mouth. It had gone in Kurt’s ass and emerged from Kurt’s mouth. Kurt could only breath through his nose and hum with pleasure as he felt Jack’s hypercock in every inch of him. Their muscletits shot cum: their nipples were as hard as their cocks, and they were jets of cum that drenched Jack’s living room, coating the walls. Everywhere they stepped was wet, at least an inch of spunk deep.

Jack smiled, now about 9’ tall and crouching with his muscular frame, now 16 abs long and Apollo’s belt like a canyon, and he lifted Kurt, skewered on his cock, up to his face. Jack stuck his cock into his own mouth so deep that Jack’s lips and Kurt’s lips touched.

“You are mine,” Jack ordered. “You do what I say now, you muscle god.”

“You’re my god now,” Kurt said as soon as Jack’s cock had receded from his body. “You can have whatever you want.”

Jack’s nipples shot cum, spraying like two firehoses, and he roared like a lion. He coated all of the walls, all of the furniture, gallons and gallons, and as he watched Jack, Kurt did the same, and his cock contributed. They were both of them six hoses of cum shooting all over each other, and by the time they were done, their muscles glistened with the sticky juice of musclegods and the living room, kitchen, hall—EVERY room on the first floor was ankle deep in cum.

And what’s more, they were both growing still. Their muscles bulged. They became hotter and more manly than any god or man before them. They grew to ten feet tall within minutes and didn’t stop. Their balls reloaded them with semen and before long they were at it again. They were pure forces of mansex, and they would never stop—


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