It started on Wikipedia. You know, that site that tries to provide a page about anything and anyone? I was just fucking around online one day and decided to add a page about me. I figured that if the site wanted to provide something about everything, I was just as important and newsworthy as a Kardashian or some third-rate actor with a speaking role on some soap opera, wasn’t I?
I started out typing things about me that were true—and rather boring. My name, obviously, year of my birth, personal statistics, career highlights, all the usual shit no one gives a rat’s ass about in the scheme of things.
I had typed a few paragraphs and sat back in my chair, looking at the browser window on my computer and I think I said, out loud, “Fuck it,” or something equally meaningful and decided to start embellishing the truth with some colorful but fairly innocent…not lies, exactly. More like exaggerations.
I’m just going to explain this to you exactly as it happened. No need for embellishment—not that it matters to me. There is no such thing as embellishment anymore, as far as I’m concerned.
So, I leaned forward and placed my fingers to the keyboard and added some other details to my biography. They were innocent enough at first, things I thought that no one would bother to correct or look up, but details that I knew were not exactly true.
I typed in, near the beginning of my biography, “It has been noted that he has rather large feet.” I typed that as a sort of joke. About my dick. You know? The thing about a man’s foot size being a correlation to the size of his cock? I thought it was funny, and I thought someone would come along and erase the whole thing anyway.
But I felt an odd sensation at the moment I placed the period at the end of that sentence. A feeling of tingling, I guess. Nothing hurtful, more like someone scratching the soles of my feet with a fork or something. I reached down to rub at that itch without looking and felt something distinctly odd. I looked down and I could see my feet growing.
My heart almost stopped in my chest and I’m sure my breath caught in my throat. I could see my feet enlarging, I was watching them literally growing.
I wasn’t on any drugs, I wasn’t high or drunk. And after a moment my feet stopped growing and the tingling sensation, or whatever it was, ceased as well. I had discarded my shoes next to the desk and I picked one up, placing it against the sole of my foot. And, clearly, my foot was larger than it had been by more than an inch. In all other aspects, my foot looked exactly the same.
It was as simple as that, the first time. There was no previous indication that I could do these sorts of miracles, or whatever it is that I am able to do. Had I never typed something like that, perhaps I never would have known of my power. Perhaps it only manifested that day, or perhaps I had been able to do it all along. Does that matter? Does it matter when or how or why I can do it, when the fact is that I can?
Maybe. From my perspective, I don’t give a fuck. I stopped worrying and wondering about that a long time ago.
At any rate, and for whatever reason, my feet had grown larger. I contemplated this for a minute, probably, checking and re-checking that the problem wasn’t with my shoes and that the growth was real and not some figment of my imagination before I realized that I could just type something else to test what was happening. “He also has a third nipple on his chest,” I typed, figuring that I could not possibly mistake something so unusual as a figment.
Feeling a more subtle but still noticeable tingling again, this time at the center of my chest, I lifted up my shirt and there it was, just as I had typed. A new, third nipple.
I’m sure I laughed or made some odd noise in shock and surprise. I touched it and felt that same slight sexual charge that my other nipples delivered and then I dropped my shirt and back-spaced the nipple from existence again. There was no tingling sensation this time, but checking my chest revealed that the extra nipple was now gone.
I sat back and considered my options. My big feet and extra nipple seemed to prove that whatever I typed onto my screen became immediately true for me. I wondered how far this power extended. “He lives in a large mansion” I typed, and as the words appeared on the screen, my surroundings changes, seeming to melt from the old appearance to the new one. I was sitting at the same computer, on the same old desk, in my same chair, but my room had altered substantially, and there was a soft echo to reflect the new, larger size of everything.
I stood up and looked outside. Indeed, to all appearances, nothing else had changed at all. I was living on my same street, in my same city, with the same houses around me and the same neighbors and garbage cans on the curb and mailboxes. But I was now standing on the second floor of my house, and by opened my window and looked outside I could see that it was, indeed, a mansion made of red brick with a grand entrance below me and windows stretching out for some space.
The street itself had been changed to accommodate this new edifice. The same small houses lived at either end of my new larger home, so completely out of sync with the other buildings, but no one had charged from their own homes to gawk at this suddenly-appearing huge new mansion. People walked along the sidewalks normally, as if I had always lived here.
I grew giddy, then, and sat back at my computer to finish my new sentence. “He lives in a large mansion outfitted with the best and most expensive furniture with a full crew of servants and an Olympic-sized swimming pool in the back yard.”
“May I get you anything?” I heard an unfamiliar voice ask, and I turned to see a man dressed as a butler standing at the door of my large office. He looked extremely butler-y and I realized that even as I had typed those words, the reality I was manifesting lived up to my expectations perfectly. Without elaboration, the butler I had created was the butler I had seen in my head—were I ever to imagine what “my butler” would look like. I shook my head, he bowed his, and I laughed again at what was apparently happening all around me.
But typing everything was going to become quickly very tedious. Did I really want to carry around something and have to keep adding to this Wikipedia entry to make it so? Of course not! The next words I typed, therefore, were: “When he speaks his desires, they become real.” I stood up and cleared my throat.
Then I said, simply enough and without considering the meaning, “I am the most beautiful man in the world.”
I spoke the words, just nine little words, and looked down at myself to watch the change manifest. I should have been standing before a full-length mirror absolutely naked, but I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. It was momentous, that change, and everything that came afterwards stems from those nine words.
I looked down at myself as my words became real. The changes were subtle at first, and it was only later than I understood the real meaning behind them. What does beauty mean? Everyone has their own interpretation of it, don’t they? But I became to everyone else the most beautiful man in the world, even as I became it to my own interpretation.
It was so simple, so effortless. Merely speaking the words made it so. And over the course of a few moments, I became the most beautiful man on the planet. Only after I felt the changes cease did I wander into my walk-in closet (filled with the most beautiful and expensive clothing, naturally) and looked into a mirror.
Dissatisfied at first, I said, “I am naked,” and then I was.
I came instantly, gasping for breath and pushing a sudden wealth of cum from my dick.
Seeing myself—my utter beauty, the perfection of the human form—made my exquisite cock throb to instant erection. My libido grew inflamed, my gorgeous balls seized up, and I came hard and suddenly and fully. My face, my body, the perfection of my new self, it was beyond comprehension; overwhelming.
I smiled as my cock—the most beautiful cock on the most beautiful man—jerked and throbbed and pumped out the last of my cum from my beautiful balls and I sighed with contentment on my perfect face. I wanted to cum again, but I couldn’t. The force of my orgasm was absolute, leaving my beautiful body aching to achieve endless orgasms.
I had never beheld someone so magnificent, so gorgeous, so perfectly beautiful. No man or woman in my experience, no one I had ever seen, could begin to approach my own level of physical perfection. No matter where I looked on my new body and face, no matter what attribute I concentrated my attentions upon, everything about me now was absolutely—and almost unbearably—beautiful.
I glanced at the reflection of my throbbing—almost painful—erection, deflating from its explosion and dripping with my spent load from my perfect, beautiful, heavy balls. I licked my lips and said, “I can cum as much as I want to, and as often as I want to, any time that I want to.”
My cock, perfect and beautiful, suddenly turned red and shiny as it engorged with blood and rose immediately to its majestic erect perfection. I shot a long, fat, thick stream of cum that wasn’t like any other orgasm I had ever experienced. I was nearly overwhelmed with pleasure as I came, watching my prick swell and thicken and shoot a fat rope of bright cream against the mirror. I could see my balls swell in my reflection, feel their weight and size increase as I began to produce an endless supply of hot, sticky cream that swelled in my balls and ached for release. I shot it out of my dick—my perfect, beautiful dick—over and over, coating my reflection in a film of masculine essence.
I merely stood there, hands balled into fists at my sides, my hips thrust forward, my fat cock jerking and jumping, watching myself pumping fat ropes of hot cream from my thick and beautiful hard-on. I kept pumping and experiencing the intense pleasure of orgasmic release each time, moaning with satisfaction and desire, and then pumping another long, thick stream.
“I… I am the… the most powerful person… on the planet.” I gasped these words as I experienced this new powerful and unending orgasmic release, my beautiful body overwhelmed by the pleasure my cock was delivering again and again.
I said these words and anticipated the results, but nothing seemed to occur. I realized as the final word left my lips that I already was that being. I was certainly the most powerful human being simply because I could make anything happen in an instant. Nothing seemed beyond these strange and unaccountable powers already. But that hadn’t been my intention.
I tried to gather my thoughts even as I continued to come, pushing fat gouts of cum up the thick inches of my perfect cock, swallowing dryly and pulling air into my lungs.
“I am… the physically strongest and… most muscular person… on the planet,” I said, amending my previous statement to more accurately convey my intention.
I’m certainly glad that I had said “person,” because if I had said “being” or “thing,” who knows how strong I would’ve become? I would later amend these instructions, of course, and I came to understand how to describe what I wished, increasing my strength again and again as I tested my limits, evolving my superhuman abilities step by step.
But at the time, at the start of my changes, when I still had no conception of my abilities and was afraid to test the limitation, becoming the strongest person on the planet seemed like more than enough power.
But besting the strength of one man? That wasn’t enough. Why not ten? Why not a hundred? Why not a thousand? Why limit myself at all?
But those notions would come in time. Then, at the beginning of my evolution, merely being the single strongest individual on the planet seemed enough.
I leaned forward and wiped away some of the overwhelming load of my extended cum explosion. “The mirror is clean and clear,” I instructed, wanting to watch my changes manifest unhindered, and instantly the wealth of my unending orgasms disappeared from the glass.
I could already see my muscles swelling along my extended arm. I felt my weight increasing, the sensation of growth manifesting when I began to bulk up as every muscle’s mass and density grew larger and thicker and heavier.
A constant throbbing sensation of strength shook my body as my muscles increased in size and power—but even as they did so, my previous instruction that I was still the most beautiful man in the world remained intact.
I watched this reflection, having difficulty believing not just that it was me in that mirror, but that anyone could look as I did. Muscle inflated outward as I grew increasingly stronger, surpassing the level of the most powerful weightlifter, the largest bodybuilder, the strongest man on earth.
My chest swelled forward, the two hard globes of power pressing against each other, increasing with mass and weight, and my arms ballooned with inflating strength. I twisted sideways and observed my gorgeous ass rise and harden and push outward, becoming a marvelous and beautiful engine of jutting muscular beauty, two perfect rounded humps of muscular mass. My legs bloomed with thick, hard wedges as I ran my hands along them, and my belly tightened into a perfect six-pack—then eight-pack of power, each lobe blooming and swelling.
Bigger and bigger. The muscle was packing itself onto my frame, inflating with sinew and power every second, growing massive—bigger muscles than anyone had dreamed of until I was gargantuan, swollen with muscle enough to surpass the strength of anyone else on this planet. Each muscle perfectly developed and as large as it could possibly become, all while maintaining my position as the most beautiful person on Earth.
I began to pose, to watch my new muscles flex and bulge. My marvelous and unstoppable dick rose up again and I began shooting fresh ropes of my plentiful cum, pumping out thick splattering spasms of it as my balls drooped producing more and more and more, my gaze enthralled by my own power and size, and that lust manifested by explosions of cream.
I looked down as I paused in my muscular efforts with my next obvious goal, still shoving fat ropes of cum from my cannon. My tremendous body was now pulsing with strength beyond imagining, a sensation I’m sure I can never adequately convey. Hyper-masculine. Hyper-strong. That feeling that one can accomplish any goal, and feat of strength, a feeling of invincibility. Muscle bulged everywhere in massive balls and cables, pressing insistently against my flawless skin, showing every fiber of power.
I pulled in a slow breath, as if preparing for this next step. Opening my beautiful mouth, and watching myself with intent interest I spoke these words: “I have the biggest penis of any man on the planet.”
I gasped and struggled to keep my eyes open, nearly overwhelmed with a sudden coursing explosion of sexual pleasure.
I watched my cock lurch and swell. The head pushed forward as the shaft inflated. I was lengthening and thickening at the same time, the size of my beautiful tool magnifying with incredible size.
I grabbed it with both hands, feeling it thicken and stretch in my muscular grip, surpassing eleven, then twelve, then thirteen inches. I was breathing hard as I grew, feeling an overwhelming sensation of sexual pleasure. Someone else had a thirteen-inch cock, I marveled? But whomever had owned the previous record—wherever that man was—he would now be permanently in second place. It was a massive sexual tool with a fat plum of a head and heavy balls to match its new size.
And still it grew.
Fourteen… fifteen… sixteen inches long and as thick around as my wrist. An impossible, gargantuan, beautiful marvel hanging fat and heavy from my loins with perfect pink skin and a plum for a head. It throbbed with heat and a thick clear honey appeared at the tip and it began to drool copiously, as my unstoppable balls dutifully began to shove their overabundance down its new, thick, heavy inches.
I stoked myself, hefting the majestic colossus into my large hands and feeling its weight and heat. It tingled with need and desire, rewarding my touch with strong shocks of utter bliss. I bit my lower lip and closed my eyes as I ran my hands along my new augmented length, squeezing and teasing and stroking myself as the flow of precum increased, pushed by my ministrations.
I did these things—said these things—all in quick succession, somewhat intoxicated as the changes so quickly manifested. I would later amend them all, adding nuance and detail, not satisfied with merely surpassing every other man’s beauty or size or strength, and instructing myself in more exact terms.
All effortlessly and without apparent limit.
I held my new, thicker, harder, longer cock and felt my balls droop with the weight of cream that I now produced in endless supply. The whole of it, every fat inch, began to throb and tingle with intense pleasure, and I felt my load travel up every heavy inch of my massive meat and watched it explode from the mouth of my record-breaking cock, shoving ropes of white cum in thick, wet pumps.
Even though I was the most beautiful man on the planet, this new monster prick made things look out of balance on my body. I realized it was my stature, but that was easily remedied.
“I am also the tallest man who ever walked the earth.”
Instantly I began to rise. Surpassing seven feet tall, nearing eight, as my beauty and strength compensated, my new super-powered muscles swelled and lengthened. Still taller. Eight-and-a-half feet, and then nine. Nine feet high—half again as tall as I had previously been. I watched my refection as I changed again, my head and face disappearing above the edge of the mirror’s frame as I extended taller than any other man on the planet.
My muscles stretched and swelled, given space on my taller and wider frame, filling in and still maintaining that I was the most beautiful and the most muscular and the tallest man to ever stride this world.
I cannot say and still don’t know why the changes I make occur happen over a short matter of time rather than instantly, as if I could blink my eyes and everything changes in that moment. Perhaps it is because I want to see the changes. I want to be able to enjoy the improvements I make and witness the alterations like a tailor, so that I know that I am doing these things, and that they are to my own specifications.
No one else ever seems to notice the changes as they occur. Only I do. Maybe time slows down. I do not know.
I looked down at myself, my perfect body, my massive dick, my swelling chest and thick arms. I willed myself to come again, feeling my balls obey and start to grow heavier and heavier, producing a load of cum so thick and profound that my orgasm would also be the largest in the world.
More. The thought came into my head. More.
I watched my balls inflate, the skin drawing tight as they sank along my heavily muscled thighs. I stroked my—how long was I now? Seventeen inches? Eighteen? I worshipped my cock meat, luxuriating in the constant electrical shocks of pure sexual bliss my touch created.
“Gonna cum,” I said to no one there. “Gonna cum harder than anyone has ever cum before.”
I grabbed my massive prick and released my pent-up wealth of cum. I could feel the air move as it erupted from me like a geyser and hit the ceiling, shattering the plaster and wood like a rocket, blasting from my cock like a fountain, opening a hole through the ceiling and into the upper floor and again through that ceiling and the roof of my mansion, shooting hundreds of feet into the sky.
I gasped and groaned and shuddered from the intensity of the biggest orgasm the world had ever know. Gallons of cream escaped my cock in one lengthy sexual explosion as my balls produced more and more and more.
I shook with the power I controlled.
“Stop,” I whispered.
It was time to take my powerful form out into the world.
I had to duck my head to move between rooms and twist my giant frame sideways to fit through normal door frames. I paused and considered my new abode, and I said, “my home was built to accommodate my size and strength easily.” I heard strange splintering and groaning as every room, every door frame, every ceiling expanded, every wall and floor grew reinforced to withstand my power and my size, and I smiled and came again, grabbing hold of my mammoth cock as I sprayed a fat arc of cum across one wall. Almost immediately, servants appeared to clean up what I had just created, and I realized that this could not be an unusual occurrence. It was likely, given that I could now come as often and as copiously as I desired, that I probably would partake in this sexual gesture in every room, and that my retinue of servants merely took that as part of their job. Perhaps they even looked forward to it, for it allowed them to be in the presence of the most beautiful and most powerful man on the planet, if even for moments.
I paused at the front door of my mansion and looked down at my naked form. Although the idea of wandering the world in the altogether aroused me, I thought that it would be difficult if I were being thrown in jail for indecent exposure very day no matter how attractive I was.
“People accept that I am fully naked in public, indeed that I am always naked, and special laws were passed in every city and nation that allow me to do so.” I considered this, and took it to its logical ends. “In fact, I am allowed to do anything I want to at any time without punishment or penalization.” Satisfied that I had covered any contingent that may have caused me a problem, I opened the door and stepped outside.
I must confess that I wondered, up to that point, whether this was all a dream or an illusion. Had I gone insane? Were the things I was seemingly capable of without apparent limit truly happening?
So, in broad daylight, naked as the day I was born, now possessing the world’s most beautiful and perfect male body, the biggest cock in the world hanging fat and firm between my legs, bulging with the largest and most powerful muscles on earth, I stepped into the sunlight to see what would happen.
Oddly—and somewhat disappointingly—nothing happened. At least, not at first. And why should it? Hadn’t I just cleared away any possible public danger to myself? “People accept that I am fully naked,” I had described, and so they did. Still, seeing my newly enlarged, improved, perfected, and overtly sexualized form would cause someone to stop dead in their tracks to simply gaze upon my magnificence.
I still cannot fully fathom what it is for someone else to look upon my perfection. After all, I am simply looking outward from my own eyes and only sometimes catch a glimpse of the flawless physical beauty and utter perfection of my body and face.
The street where I lived then was not particularly crowded with pedestrians or traffic, and I suppose that no one thought it out of the ordinary for me to stride out of my estate in the altogether and walk along the sidewalk with my nearly 19-inch cock swinging like a heavy pendulum from my over nine-foot-tall frame.
I was struck by the sensation of the wind on my skin. How often is one allowed to feel that? I mean…everywhere? I could feel it on my ass, and I suddenly wanted to know that sensation fully.
I paused in my strides and reached around to pull my muscular buttocks apart and feel the cool brush of the wind against my warm and moist asshole. I stood there on the street and moved my middle finger onto the sweet tenderness of my own butt hole and gently stroked myself, feeling my balls tingle and swell and I grabbed my cock with my other hand, squeezing it as it quickly inflated to erection and then I came heavily, pumping thick fountains of bright cum that arced high and far, splattering against the hot asphalt of the street.
I groaned with pleasure as I stood there fucking my ass while I felt the heavy pumps of cream swell up the fat inches of my world-record cock and puddle against the curb. I bent and moved my mouth into the stream and shot thick, sticky, warm jets of my own delicious cum into my open mouth, swallowing the sexual cream greedily. It splattered against my check and neck and chest, and that made me cum even harder.
Harder, I thought.
“My….” I gasped for breath, overcome by the sheer power of the unending orgasm I was experiencing. “My cock is harder than steel. My cock is always slick and warm and delicious, and every inch…every fucking millimeter of it is super sensitive and delivers deep shocks of intense sexual pleasure.”
The power of my sexual bliss suddenly increased—dramatically. I felt my dick harden like iron and the surface became as slippery and sleek as if it had been oiled. My stroking grip slid along its thick, hard inches with absolute ease. I imagined myself sliding inside some lucky man’s ass with this thing, without any need for spit or lube at all. And then I’d seat my mammoth meat inside his tight hole, pumping in and out with the most powerful and muscular ass on the planet, unleashing endless thick, hot, sticky floods of cream again and again and again.
My eyes rolled up into my head and I practically screamed with pleasure, almost unable to withstand the sexual beast I had become. I straightened and arched my back and thrust my hips forward, pushing the hard meat of my massive monster towards the open sky and let loose with torrents of cum, fountains of it, pumping it now as the pure bliss of sex engulfed me utterly.
I came and came, because I could. I stood there with my steel-hard cock fountaining an endless supply of cum, a stream of thick white cream spewing endlessly from my monster prick, and enjoying the sensation of orgasmic release and realized, somewhere in my mind, that I could easily become a slave to my own sex drive. It was now a boundless beast, one that could never be fully contained or controlled—unless I did so.
In the midst of this tide of bliss, I said, “I can…control…my libido. I have complete control over all aspects of this body—and anyone else’s I desire.”
I cannot say why I added that last part. Admittedly, it has become one of my favorite powers, and I daresay that the others I have practiced it on have enjoyed its benefits as well.
Regardless, with those words some clarity of mind overwhelmed that sensation of sexual pleasure and I pulled in a deep, cooling breath and my cock and balls calmed themselves. I stood up and wiped the final drooling dregs from the tip of my enormity, sucking the warm cream between my supple, perfect, beautiful, kissable lips and tasted myself, the richness and power of my seed coated my tongue and I found it sweet and delicious.
I certainly caused more than my fair share of problems just walking to the gym. I could no longer fit into my car or probably any car—it did not occur to me at the time to simply wish a vehicle large enough to accommodate me into being—so walking was the only practical solution. Again, it just didn’t occur to me to “wish myself” to the gym.
And, actually, that’s never a good idea. Simply wishing myself somewhere. Control, again. Without being super specific, if I had said “I wish I was at my gym” it’s impossible to tell where I would have appeared. Maybe even occupying the same space as someone already there. Can get kind of awkward.
I’ve fixed most of those little accidents by altering the nature of my instructions. Less literal, and more intuitive. Sometimes, the thing you’re thinking of doing is more detailed than the words you can use to describe it. I don’t have that problem any longer.
Well…most of the time.
Anyway, as I was walking to the gym, my new body and face were causing unforeseen problems.There was some absurdity to my appearance, my size and strength and that huge prick swinging thick and heavy, but I was like a baby using superpowers. I’ve gotten a lot better. I’ll show you, soon. Hope your cock can stand it.
And if it can’t, I can help you out.
It wasn’t like I was causing spontaneous orgasms or traffic accidents or anything—those sorts of reactions came later, as my control evolved. But the reactions were not at all what I expected. Sometimes people laughed (I suppose I did look odd with those giant, oversized muscles and that beautiful but out-of-place face), sometimes they looked away, embarrassed by that more-than-foot-long prick. It taught me a valuable lesson about making my changes have broader ramifications, and also to limit my effect on others.
Because I said, “Everyone loves me.”
Love is a super-power all by itself. Love can cause devotion, but also jealousy. Love can cause lust, but also possessiveness. A sort of wild and worldwide fight broke out. I had no idea what I had just done, no idea of the extent of the change I had caused. I could only see the local reaction, as people—all the people—ran towards me and began to fight with each other for proximity and…well, you get the idea.
I was in shock, and the quickest thing to occur was to erase my mistake by saying its opposite: “Nobody loves me!”
Even bigger mistake.
But you can see how things can get out of hand very quickly.
My turn of phrase is important as well. Saying something like “You want me so much your balls ache,” may just be a figure of speech, but when I say it, it isn’t just that. And, sure, some guys like to feel their balls ache, but an unsurprising number would rather not.
When I finally arrived at my gym—after a series of “humorous misadventures”—and walked in, the place came to a sudden and complete halt. All eyes turned towards me, which was admittedly what I had hoped would happen. Guys were springing boners as I passed, some even rubbing themselves while others tried to hide their body’s reactions with embarrassment. “Don’t be embarrassed,” I remarked offhand, and just like that everyone the place started to take their clothes off and some were jerking off.
I had to stop myself again, and I was going to “fix it” and try to return things to “normal,” when I thought, well, I kind of like things better this way. “No one here is embarrassed by their sexual desires or their body, and everyone is accepting of everyone else.”
Now guys were making out with each other, and some approached me as well. I have to say that the effect on my prick was immediate, and my hungry wiener started to plump and throb as several guys began to kiss me and stroke me and even attempt to suck my huge dick right there in the middle of the gym.
Frankly, nothing like this had occurred to me! I was still locked in to the idea of the existing world, that some things “had to be” and that I would somehow fit around those “facts.” But I had just illustrated to myself how much of a change I could enact with just a few words.
I decided to take another step, to live out a fantasy of my own. “All of the equipment in this gym works ten times better than ordinary equipment.”
What I meant by that was that anyone who used the equipment in this gym would see muscular and strength gains 10 times faster. I wanted to see guys sitting on weight bench and pumping out a few chest presses and watch their pecs inflate at record speed.
But I wasn’t quite that precise in my instructions. As I watched my words take effect, suddenly the weights were made of gold, and the equipment was shiny and new. I hadn’t made the equipment more effective, I had simply made it ten times better.
No one else, of course, recognized the alteration, and they were all still engaged in making out and fucking and kissing and doing whatever else they sexually desired without embarrassment. So I tried again.
“The equipment in this gym looks like ordinary gym equipment,” I said between kisses, watching it all return to its previous appearance, “but its muscle-building effects will be ten times stronger for anyone who uses it.”
Of course, no one was using it because they were all now happily indulging in their new sexual freedom. But I wanted to see if the effects were as I intended.
“When you’re in this gym, you…you still are not embarrassed by your sexual desires or your body, but you concentrate on using the equipment to build your muscles.”
From one second to the next, everyone stopped making out or fucking or whatever, and turned their focused attention to the gym’s equipment.
At first it was a bit like musical chairs, with dudes nearly fighting to get onto the nearest piece of equipment. And then I noticed that guys were physically straining to move the weights even an inch. I went over to a set of free dumbbells and lifted one marked 25 lbs. My newly increased super-strength allowed me to lift it easily, but I realized it no longer weighed 25 lbs., it was now a 250 lbs. dumbbell.
Again, my words had taken immediate effect but not with the intention I had hoped. I realized my mistake, and I sought once more to rectify it. I had said that the equipment was “ten times stronger” when what I meant was that it should be “ten times more effective” in helping these men grow bigger, stronger, and more muscular.
But what would that change? I decided to try to be as specific as possible. I watched the other men struggling but determined and I knew I had gotten one part right, I just needed to change the other part and add a little spin on things.
“The equipment in this gym operates the same as equipment in any other gym, except that its effects are ten times faster on muscular growth and development. When anyone uses this equipment, their body will react the same as if they are using any normal gym equipment, except that their muscles will derive ten times the usual benefits and develop at ten times the normal rate in one-tenth of the normal time. These effects extend to all the weight training equipment in this gym, and the men using the equipment will use it for the amount of time they would normally use any other gym equipment.”
It was a lot of carefully worded instructions. I stood back to watch and see what effect my words would have.
To say that the effects were both dramatic and awesome would be a severe understatement.
If I had thought about what I was saying, I might have toned things down a bit. Ten times? Ten?!? That’s a 1000% increase in effectiveness. Sounds good, and maybe we all would want to be able to get more bang for our workout buck, but in practice things turned out a bit differently than I anticipated.
Muscle was exploding everywhere, but not…everywhere. Guys doing squats were suddenly inflating their legs and butts with hard, raw brawn. But nowhere else. Dudes curling dumbbells watched their biceps swell like balloons, but the rest stayed normal.
It was…weird. But also awesome. I just needed to add some more tweaking to get it just right.
“The amplified effects of the gym equipment here will apply to the entire body, so no matter which equipment someone is using or what muscle they are exercising, the muscular development will be applied to all their muscles simultaneously.”
From one moment to the next, everyone sort of…evened out, and then I was watching men slowly, steadily, evenly swelling with muscle.
My dick was again steel-hard. It was working exactly as I had envisioned it. Guys were uniformly swelling up with muscle. Everywhere I looked I could watch some dude’s body growing. Pecs were swelling forward, lobes of hard muscle grew across their shoulders and arms, thick wedges of power inflated along their thighs, fat rocks of hard braun grew on their calves.
Every pump brought more size and power. They grunted with the effort, sweating and groaning, even as their bodies were swelling bigger and bigger.
After just one workout, the gym became overwhelmed with huge, strong, powerful men swollen with fresh, hard, beautiful muscle.
But then it didn’t stop. It had become exponential. By making the effects encompass the entire body, and making it ten-times its original effectiveness, every man was now essentially doing ten-times-ten, and then ten-times-ten-times-ten, and so on, because I had said “use it for the amount of time they would normally use equipment.”
They continued working out, getting larger and larger, their muscles swelling up beyond anything I had ever seen.
It was amazing. I had done this. I had made this real merely by speaking it, and as I watched the men growing larger and larger with muscle, I realized that they would not stop until they became musclebound—literally too large to move. Their muscles would continue to grow and swell and they would not stop working out.
Because I wished it.
“Everyone in this gym is exactly the same way they were when they entered it,” I said. “The equipment has no special power and behaves in an ordinary fashion according to its design.”
And then there they were again, those men, all ordinary and no longer inflating with muscular growth.
I decided to focus my powers on just one man, to attempt some changes on him that I could more easily control. This is a general rule I still follow to this day. Random, global changes that involve “everyone” tend to have many side effects—both good and bad—that I cannot foresee. Limiting my changes to just one person, or a small handful, allows me to temper my miraculous changes and keep some control over the situation.
I selected a rather ordinary looking man—though in comparison to me, all men looked rather ordinary now. I had a strong desire to change that.
I did not know him and had never seen him before. It was unfair of me to be so cavalier about someone else’s life, I realize now, but at the time I did not consider the full ramifications of the changes I was about to make.
I strode up to him in all my glorious naked perfection and he looked either scared or excited—possibly both. The gym’s walls were covered with mirrors so I had an excellent view of my new body as it moved, the way the muscles bulged and flexed, the sheer beauty of this body, the overwhelming power and perfection. My face almost stopped me in my tracks when I was again reminded how handsome I was, and my ever-hungry prick swelled and throbbed with sexual need.
It took some time for me to be able to look into mirrors without being extremely aroused by my own reflection. It seemed wrong, somehow, to have sexual feelings about myself, but I now understand that it’s actually a healthy response. Perhaps it was more about accepting that this stranger in the mirror really was me, now, and not someone else I was wearing.
“Hello,” I said simply, and smiled at him.
He came. Just like that. I had done nothing at all but speak a single word and smile, and this man shuddered and moaned and shot a fat load into his workout shorts. “Thank you for being naked.” And he was. “You’re beautiful,” I added.
I watched him change with interest and desire. I have since learned that there is a difference between calling someone beautiful and handsome, but I’m not certain if that’s only because I myself consider the words to have different connotations. His face and body changed in a sort of fluid manner, resolving themselves into a presentation of breathtaking male beauty akin to the most attractive male model you have ever seen.
He was not my equal, as I had called myself the “most beautiful,” and his muscles and cock did not swell to superhuman proportions. Instead, he because a heartbreaker, with a gorgeous face enhanced by sensuous, full, kissable lips, jewel-like eyes, soft waves of hair and flawless, glowing skin. His body was marvelous, very well balanced and very well trained. He looked like a gymnast, now, with sleek, perfectly proportioned muscles under smooth, flawless skin.
He was truly beautiful.
“Thank you,” he said. I thought at first he was thanking me for giving him that gift of beauty, but he was only thanking me for the compliment I paid him. No one else was aware that I was doing anything, and that still holds true.
“What’s your name?”
He gave it to me, though now after so many men I have given these gifts to I’m embarrassed to say that I cannot remember it. Perhaps I was so focused on my end-goal that I chose not to remember details like names.
I wanted to see how far I could take someone else. Certainly, all my instructions concerning my own body and surroundings manifested instantly—could the same be said of someone else who had no idea of what I could do?
“Why are you at the gym?” I asked. It seemed a logical place to start. “You can be absolutely truthful with me.”
“I want to get bigger,” he said. Then his gaze drifted across my own magnificence and he added, “Like you.”
My cock pulsed. I could almost feel his lust for me like heat. Yes, he wanted to look like me, but he also wanted me. He wanted to be with me. Did he want to fuck me? “Do you want to fuck me?”
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
He looked down at my throbbing monster and his eyes widened. “Will it hurt?” he asked. He did want it, he wanted me inside him, but he was scared as well. And why wouldn’t he be? No one on the planet had a bigger cock than I did. No one had ever seen such a huge meaty slab of sex hanging so full and thick.
“It won’t hurt at all,” I said, “If I fuck you—if I fuck anyone—it is the most amazing and pleasurable sexual experience they’ve ever had. Any man I fuck will experience multiple orgasms—powerful ones, as many as they desire—and they often say at the end that it felt like we were made to fit together, like it was the most natural sensation of pure sex they ever felt.”
Saying all this made it immediately true—or so I assumed. There was, of course, only one way to determine whether that was fact. “What if I fuck you?” he asked.
“My ass is perfect,” I said. “It feels like slipping inside a tight, smooth, wonderful velvet glove. It feels like your dick is being sucked and squeezed and licked and stroked all at the same time. And when you come inside my ass, you’ll shoot harder and fuller and with more pleasure and satisfaction than you’ve ever felt before.”
But why stop there? “I am also the world’s most talented and experienced fellatio artist. And it is an art, I assure you. When I take your cock in my mouth, when I lick you, kiss you, suck you, caress and comfort you, your cock will deliver strong, perfect, beautiful shocks of pure sexual bliss. And when you finally shoot your load, it’ll be the strongest, most complete and perfect orgasm you’ve ever delivered during a blow job.”
That sounded sufficient. Since then, I have managed to finesse and perfect all my sexual abilities. I can bring you to the edge of madness, now, making your brain spin and tingle and explode with so much pleasure that you will wonder what your previous orgasms were.
That seemed like an excellent experience. I did not feel anything change about my body, but I knew it was true. My ass was a sex machine, built for the pleasure of whomever I brought inside. “How big is your cock?”
“I’m not sure,” he answered, reaching down and grasping himself.
“Your cock is nine inches long,” I said, his size already lurching towards my stated measurement, swelling into a prominence.
He grinned and looked suddenly more confident. “I want to fuck you,” he said, “with my fat cock.”
I nodded, “But first,” I said, “you’ll need to suck me, because when you swallow my load…” I paused, wondering what magic might be performed. “When you swallow my cum, you gain 10% of your weight in new muscle.”
“I know,” he said, because it was now true.
“Every swallow,” I said, “you’ll get bigger and bigger.”
“And cock,” I added. “Your nine-inch cock will swell to 9.9 inches with the first swallow, and then again. And again. Even as you grow heavier and stronger with muscle.”
“Yes,” he agreed, happily.
“But first you have to make me cum,” I said. “And that is no easy feat.” I grabbed my monster to boast, “I have the biggest cock in the world, and satisfying this beast takes stamina, talent, and passion. Do you believe you can make me cum, to receive your reward?”
He nodded vigorously and dropped to his knees, setting about his task.
In truth he was not very good, though I should grant him some favor because he was attempting to take on a fairly substantial burden. But I so wanted to see his body swell and his cock to lengthen—with the knowledge that it was my own rich delivery of hot cum that was making it happen—that I granted him three deliveries from my beast to see the changes manifest.
It was hard not to keep pumping my cream inside him, seeing its effects taking shape so swiftly. He slobbered over my hugeness, stroking and squeezing me in hopes of stealing his prize, and I grasped his head and shoved his mouth over the plum of my great monster as I allowed my first full gushing fountain to erupt.
This was not some small delivery, like drops of pearl on his tongue to suck and swallow, or small squirts of warm cream. I fairly exploded into him, unleashing the full strength of my new superhuman cock and balls, watching his cheeks expand and his eyes tear as my new copious flood gushed inside him, forcing my surging stream down his throat. Only a moment later I felt him moaning against my cock, his eyes closed in evident ecstasy, and I watched his shoulders begin to swell and his chest to inflate as pounds of new muscle formed on his body in seconds.
My heavy load dribbled from the corners of his mouth and drained down his chin, the powerful muscle-building cream dripping onto his swelling pecs. I could see broad cables of power swelling up beneath his skin, stretching across the expanding globes as pounds of fresh muscle bulged across his body.
I moved my large hand behind his head, felt my balls swell and stretch, and I came again, a second fat explosion of hot cream, thrilled and excited that my words could do this. I could feel my cum traveling up every steel-hard inch of my monster and rocket from the gaping mouth, shooting inside him like liquid fire.
His muscular development redoubled. New striations formed along his biceps and traps. His grip on my cock grew tight and profound, but I was hard as steel. He gulped down all that he could knowing what it was doing to him, greedy for more power. His chest continued in its inflation of muscle, pushing his nipples downward as each pectoral globe expanded, swelling with increasing muscular mass.
I felt a hot splash against me and looked down to see his cock reaching forward, swelling longer and thicker and pumping pearl explosions from its mouth. It was incredible to watch his prick growing, and I wondered what it felt like to him, this increase in mass arching up between his swelling thighs. What must he have been feeling, to spontaneously explode his load on my skin like that? He came over and over, pushing out his load, a mere trickle compared to mine.
I sighed and smiled and my balls began to inflate with more cream. I could feel them pushing against my inner thighs as I allowed them to fill up, inflating like balloons, pushing more and more power into this magic elixir my cock would force inside this man’s mouth and then into his muscles and his own prick, forcing them to swell larger and larger.
I licked my lips and looked down at him, still struggling with my last delivery of hot cream when I released my final load on him and felt it rush along my prick and explode from the mouth of the world’s largest cock.
I came for the third time, the sensation of my delivery traveling up the thick, hard inches of my huge meat and shoving its power inside him, adding yet more pounds of muscle to his body and his cock stretched another inch longer when I pulled myself from his sucking mouth and he fell back, pulling in a deep breath and I watched the final pounds of strength swell everywhere beneath his skin.
He was clearly overcome by the experience, trying to suck air into his lungs as his new body coalesced into its ultimate size and power. Sweat coated his skin and he came again, hard, grunting with the pleasure and effort as he pushed his load up his new fatter cock to splatter on my perfect skin. I rubbed my thumb against my nipple, enjoying the sensation of sex but holding back from another delivery of cream, and merely watched him slowly adjust to this new reality.
What would he do now? Where would he go? What had I done to this man? I didn’t even contemplate these questions then. I merely looked at the product of my body’s abilities and smiled.
Nearly 50 additional pounds of muscle were now bulging off his body, and his hard prick was nearly a foot long. “Now,” said, looking down upon this massive muscular brute, “you are worthy of me.”
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