PLAYING WITH FanTCdude'S TOYS - part 5
Becoming… really BECOMING a Littleman’s Man
Big Budd was a bit confused. Not that that was anything unusual in and of itself - Big Budd was almost always a beat behind the action - but events were unfolding so quickly that he could barely keep up.
He didn’t understand why Dane would instruct them to all beat off into the hot tub - he had to have KNOWN what would happen - he’d ACTED like he had - and then all of a sudden fear the results and order them all away from it.
To Big Budd, the whole thing made little sense. Why didn’t the idea of a cum-filled pool repulse him? Why was he finding the smell so very intoxicating? Why did he feel like he just wanted to dive into the gooey mess himself and swallow like a hungry man at a pie-eating contest? It was crazy. The only good news was that he didn’t seem alone. All of the other guys seemed caught in the very same battle.
What were they turning into? And why did he have to like it SO much?
When Ivan had emerged from his forced submersion, even the Russian bodybuilder - who’d been the largest man Big Budd had ever seen - had put on size, had become some sort of SUPER-man, with his massive new musculature and his freaky new genitalia.
But Ivan’s transformation had been nothing compared to the Old Man.
The Old Man, who’d come to the Littleman’s seminar with a walker, with loose skin and age spots, with dentures and little hair on his head - but like old men, hair nearly everywhere else - now the Old Man was so far beyond Ivan physically as to make Ivan look… puny. The Old Man was at a muscular level that Big Budd would have deemed impossible until he saw it standing before him.
The mass, the thickness, the power - Big Budd lacked the vocabulary necessary to describe the man - the hulking beast - before him. Not just the outrageous size of the Old Man’s muscle, but the vascularity, the near-lack of bodyfat, the youthful rejuvenation, the full head of rich, black hair, the thick scruff on the chin, the hirsute body that seemed to emphasize the impossible size. And not just the muscle, ALL the masculine attributes. The Old Man’s dick hung to his knees, as thick as Big Budd’s arm USED to be, and his balls swung nearly a third of the way down his thighs, easily the size of grapefruit, or softballs. Impossible.
And almost impossibly sexy.
Big Budd wasn’t sure if he was more horrified or attracted. This beast, this freak, this mutated thing before him was so much man he was nearly irresistible. Big Budd was so turned on just by looking at him, just by smelling him, just by being in his aura, that Big Budd nearly lost control of himself then and there. His dick was rock hard - again! Big Budd began to wonder if his dick would ever go limp. It seemed like every time he finished having sex, he was ready for the next. And each time it got a little better.
When the Old Man emerged from the hot tub, they’d all stood there stupefied, the only movement in the room being their growing erections. And then, for some reason, he’d advanced on Dane, the Littleman’s group leader - the guy responsible for inducting and training all of them in the company philosophy. Maybe the Old Man felt that if he fucked their leader, he’d be leader himself - Big Budd didn’t know. He was never good at figuring out people’s motivation - which was probably why his ex-wife blind-sided him the way she had. Maybe the Old Man felt he had to prove his dominance, his new physical superiority.
It wasn’t like any of them could resist him - they were fairly hypnotized by him, so caught up in his masculine presence that none of them moved to try to stop him. They just reached down and began playing with themselves. Even Dane, for some reason panicky, muttering for someone to help him, fell to his knees before the Old Man, readying himself for that impossible cock.
And then, as usual, the only person to act heroically was the man Big Budd already had a little crush on, Officer Jacobs. He’d tried to stop the Old Man when the Old Man had first set his eyes on Dane, but the transformed Old Man had swatted Jacobs aside easily, accidentally pushing the cop into the soupy cum of the hot tub, which by now was only about half full.
A new, giant-version of Officer Jacobs stepped out of it, leaving the tub nearly drained of cum, maybe only knee-deep at the bottom - the three men who’d been transformed by it had nearly absorbed it all. Still not the size of the Old Man, Jacobs was easily Ivan’s equal, and with each step he took, the cum left on him seemed to just disappear as his body absorbed it - as he finished his growth.
The hot cop with the high-and-tight, with his tattooed forearms and his Herculean body, with his gigantic dick and endless erections, grabbed the unsuspecting Old Man around the neck, putting him in a choke hold and driving him bodily down to the floor. The cop was used to taking down perps who were bigger than him - he’d never admitted it to his fellow officers, but it turned him on - and easily took control of the Old Man.
His knee on the Old Man’s neck, Officer Jacobs looked at the others and said, “Don’t all help me at once.”
The Football Coach and the Bus Driver immediately came to his aid, helping to hold the Old Man down, like the pile-on after a successful tackle.
“Get off me!” yelled the Old Man, his deep, youthful voice still retaining its irresistible sexiness. “I wasn’t gonna hurt him! I was only gonna fuck him! C’mon you guys… I gotta fuck SOMETHING!”
“NOW what do we do?” asked the Bus Driver, pinning one of the Old Man’s arms behind his back.
They, all of them, looked at Dane, who knelt weakly, panting, the Old Man’s pre-cum wetting his lips. Dane seemed to be fighting his own inner battle, but with the deflation of his erection, they knew he’d won. His breath evening out, he turned to Ivan and said, “Get the emergency kit.”
It only took moments for the big Russian - who seemed to have regained his senses after his immersion - his big cock flopping back and forth, to return from his office with a small, white plastic box. Dane took it from him and pulled out a pre-packaged syringe, handing the box back to Ivan. Advancing on the Old Man, Dane exposed the needle and tapped out the air bubbles, and then, casually, injected it into the Old Man’s big muscle-ass. “Fuck! FUCK!” screamed the Old Man, still struggling.
And then, just as mysteriously, the Old Man calmed down. To Big Budd, it seemed like the Old Man’s focus suddenly turned inward, like he lost awareness of the world around him - he became this big, bodybuilder zombie.
The guys on the pile-on tentatively got up - except Officer Jacobs, who stayed on the Old Man’s neck, still suspicious. “Don’t worry,” said Dane. “He’s under control now. You can let him go.”
Officer Jacobs made no move to move. He looked at Dane - now his physical equal - and asked, “What did you give him?”
“Something to make him a little more pliant,” said Dane, handing the empty syringe back to Ivan. “Sometimes when a guy goes through the transformation too quickly, or simply overdoses on the formula, there’s a period of… well, I guess you could say ‘madness’ - a NEED - that will affect him. You must’ve felt it a little bit when you first came out of the hot tub. Ivan certainly did - but he’s under control now. Right, Ivan?”
But Ivan hadn’t taken his eyes off Officer Jacobs - and when the cop looked at the Big Russian, it seemed like something passed between them. Something unspoken.
They were the same size now, Ivan and Officer Jacobs - and there was an undeniable energy passing between them - Big Budd would NEVER be able to describe THAT! - and from the reactions of their dicks, it was clear that energy was attraction.
Dane smirked. “Or maybe I don’t have to tell you about it after all.”
But Ivan and Officer Jacobs were off in their own little world, suddenly oblivious to the men around them.
Their mutual attraction drew them together, their transformations made them perfect sexual machines, and their cocks were so big, they were actually able to fuck each other at the same time, feeling the other’s massive body and deeply kissing while they did so.
“I reckon I ain’t never seen nothin’ like that,” said Little Budd, himself getting hard watching.
“And that’s what WE’RE gonna become?” asked the Bartender, himself so painfully behind the other’s transformations that he looked almost normal compared to them. Even his dick, though rock hard, wasn’t half as big as the Law Clerk’s, who had the smallest.
Dane indicated the Old Man’s body on the floor. “Eventually,” Dane said, “you’ll all be HIS size. It just won’t be as mentally overwhelming.”
“Well… what’s wrong with him?” asked Big Budd. “Will he be all right?”
Dane shrugged, rolling the huge Old Man onto his back. The Old Man was conscious, but seemingly unaware of them, lost in an inward-focused lust - the Old Man’s cock maintained it’s half-hard state, and the Old Man mindlessly played with it. “I don’t know,” said Dane. “Honestly, I don’t know. We knew we were putting you guys through the transformation quickly - usually a guy will only take one shot a week, never the rate you guys are doin’ it. I’ve never seen this happen before. I mean, I’ve heard stories about it - rumors mostly, folk-tales kind of - but I’ve never actually seen it.”
He spoke to the Bus Driver, who’d been watching Ivan and Jacobs, rapidly getting turned on himself. “I think I’m gonna have you take him down to the Malibu facility after you drop us off at the hotel,” Dane said to him. “They’ll be better prepared to deal with this there.” “No prob,” said the Bus Driver, not looking away from the two fucking bodybuilders.
Dane turned his attention to the group, who were all having trouble focusing between the Old Man on the floor, Ivan and Jacobs fucking like greedy pigs, and their own transformations. It’d been a hell of a day, and it wasn’t even noon. “Okay, you guys,” said Dane, clapping his hands. “It’s after eleven, so why don’t we get cleaned up and get out of here. Believe it or not, we still have a lot to do today.”
Reluctantly, practically herded by Dane, the men made their way to the showers, although all of them heard the orgasms explode from Ivan and Jacobs, the grunting and yowling as they blissfully shot into each other. Even from the locker room, they knew when the moment came - a few of them came themselves. A couple of minutes later, as Big Budd adjusted the hot water in the ten-spigot, tiled shower room, Officer Jacobs entered, stepping up to share with him.
Officer Jacobs was significantly bigger than when he and Big Budd had fucked out at the squat rack, and Big Budd found himself even more attracted to the muscular cop. They kissed, arms wrapped around each other as the water sprayed down over them, then they washed each other, stroking and soaping the beautiful body before them.
“Are you okay?” asked Big Budd, stroking his hand along Officer Jacobs heavy pec, under the ledge to pinch the cop’s nipple.
Jacobs smiled. “Never better,” he said, grabbing Big Budd’s dick. “Unlike the old guy, I didn’t go crazy - and I’m more the man for it.”
Another orgy - in the shower, this time. Was this what life was going to be now? wondered Big Budd, easily taking Officer Jacob’s huge, gorgeous cock up his ass as he sucked off the Oil-Rigger at the next spigot. Not that Big Budd had any problem with it - quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. He almost never wanted to stop flexing and fucking. It was too good.
But how could he continue this when he was back home in Kansas? NOBODY was like this back there.
Unless he and his brother could make them that way.
Ivan, apparently, had his own private shower - he and Dane appeared in the locker room as their proteges dressed, fresh and clean - and like the rest of them, satisfied.
They squeezed their larger, muscular bodies into the spandex, Littleman’s shorts - a couple of the guys chose to wear the posing trunks, proud of their new packages - and a parade of physically different men made their way out to the bus, much more muscular, hairy, and obscenely well-hung than they’d been on the way in. Ivan shook each man’s hand at the door, saying goodbye and good luck. He patted Big Budd’s ass as he passed and said, “I am sorry I did not have time enough with you to fuck. But you take care of this hot cop, yes?” He smacked Officer Jacobs in the arm as the cop left with Big Budd, that same arm wrapped possessively around Big Budd’s shoulders. The cop winked at Ivan and smiled.
“I reckon I will,” said Big Budd, unable to resist touching the Russian’s big pecs – hairless. Big Budd ran his hand down the smooth torso, over the rugged abs, thinking how much hotter Ivan would be if he’d had body hair. What a waste, to be so big… and SMOOTH. Holding each other’s cock, they kissed until Officer Jacobs pulled them apart, holding Big Budd while kissing the Russian himself. Although the Russian kissed well, Big Budd missed the scruffy feeling of beard growth against his lips. Poor Ivan, to be hairless - no wonder the Littleman’s people considered him a failure. An aberration.
As they paraded out the door, one of Ivan’s regular gym-members arrived, a not-so-big guy - even by Big Budd’s old standards - kind of handsome, but forgettable. Getting out of his car, he stared open-mouthed, incredulously as they walked by him to their bus. Officer Jacobs still had his arm around Big Budd’s shoulders - and though there was a time when Big Budd would’ve been unable to show masculine affection in public, now he reached around and put his hand on Officer Jacob’s round, muscular ass. He looked at this wimpy new arrival and smirked as they passed, PROUD of himself, hoping the guy was getting a good look at his hardening cock. And then Dane leading the Old Man - what would this guy think of THEM? - this giant, freak of nature with a mindless, child-like expression on his face as he shuffled along with a hand holding a package that almost couldn’t be contained by a pair of skimpy, spandex shorts. Giggly almost, as he followed the smaller bodybuilder - who was himself twice the size of this gym member - followed him like a puppy on his way to get a treat.
Big Budd heard Ivan say, “Mr. Goldstein! My favorite lawyer member, yes? Just in time! Coming with me you must be for helping me to clean it, the hot tub.” Chuckling, briefly imagining the scene of Ivan pushing this lawyer-guy into the remnants of the hot tub, of this guy’s initial reaction to finding himself covered in magic cum, of his sudden growth and overwhelming new desires, of the incredible sex he’d have with Ivan - perhaps right there in the empty hot tub, absorbing every last drop of the stuff.
Big Budd didn’t even TRY to hide his erection.
Upon boarding the bus, however, he knew that no such thing was going to happen - see, the hot tub was already empty. He knew it the second he saw the Bus Driver.
The Bus Driver had gone through a transformation himself, having gained maybe twenty-five, thirty pounds of lean mass, mostly in the chest and shoulders. He was hairier, scruffier, dark and dangerous - the heavy veins that trailed up and down his arms and legs were beautiful, but a dead giveaway. “While you guys was in the shower,” he said to Dane in way of explanation, “I just washed up right there in the hot tub.” A smile broke over his heavy jaw. “No fair that youse guys get all the size.”
Even though he closed his eyes and shook his head, Dane still laughed. “The SEX was supposed to be your tip,” Dane said to him, smirking.
And with that, they left “The American Dream” in Sausalito.
The Football Coach sat on the wide back seat, the Bartender on one side, Little Budd on the other, each cuddled up next to him, stroking his hairy torso, his massive thighs, working with team-like precision in their pleasuring of him. He would kiss one while the other licked his shoulder or his armpit, or his neck, or his half-dollar nipples, then he would change sides to the other, giving each his turn. Those boys loved their Coach.
Big Budd was glad his brother had someone looking out for him. It allowed Big Budd to concentrate on Officer Jacobs, who was Big Budd’s hidden fantasy come true. How funny that he’d never realized he’d had it before.
The Oil-Rigger and the Law Clerk weren’t together exactly, but they sat across the aisle from each other, flexing for one another, feeling their big muscles, teasing each other while masturbating themselves. Big Budd shrugged - whatever turned them on. He was happy to sit next to Officer Jacobs, with the cop’s meaty arm around his shoulders, his hand on Jacob’s gargantuan quads, stroking the mind-numbing mass, each of them enjoying the torture of their denial, their spandex-clad, half-hard dicks laying over their thighs, pointing at each other, Officer Jacob’s nearly a third-again the size of Big Budd’s, both in length and thickness.
Dane sat in the front seat on one side, across from the Bus Driver, with the Old Man behind him. The Old Man’s dick was so big, he barely had to bend his head forward to get it in his own mouth. He mindlessly entertained himself with his own blow job. Big Budd wondered what trucks pulling up next to them would think when they saw it.
He didn’t care - he leaned over and kissed Officer Jacobs, deep and hard and long until the cop broke it and said, “When we get back to the hotel, we’re gonna fuck like dogs - I’m gonna tear you apart.”
“I reckon you’re welcome to try,” said Big Budd, popping his chest. “I kin take it now.”
Jacobs growled and jerked his arm, pulling Big Budd in close, kissing him, forcing himself on the now-willing. Jacobs was rough - and Big Budd liked it.
It hardly took them any time to get back to the hotel - Big Budd couldn’t decide if he was disappointed or not. He really did want to do some sightseeing - though right now he was more interested in seeing his own reflection IN those sights - so he hoped that at some point they’d get out of the hotel, except he wanted some private time with Officer Jacobs first.
Their mini-bus pulled into the hotel’s roundabout and parked before the main door, but the Bus Driver didn’t turn the engine off - he clearly had no intention of staying. Besides, he had to get the Old Man down to this mysterious “Malibu Facility” that Big Budd had overheard Dane mention. Dane actually stood then and addressed them. “All right, you guys, put your shorts back on,” he hollered past Big Budd and Officer Jacobs, to the guys in the back. Laughter erupted from the back seat - Big Budd immediately identified his brother’s voice.
“Don’t you guys get nothin’ on my seats!” shouted the Bus Driver, looking in his rearview mirror instead of turning his massive bulk around.
They got up, adjusted themselves in their shorts - Jacobs showed Big Budd how to lift his cock forward and down over the front of his balls, which was the Littleman’s style - holding everything up front, on display. Big Budd liked it. As one big bodybuilder after the next got off the bus, dressed only in spandex shorts or impossibly skimpy posing trunks, showing off their hulking, hairy muscle, their rough good looks, and their fantastic packages, people walking down the street would turn and gawk, open-mouthed, as shocked as that guy who’d driven up to Ivan’s gym.
Big Budd loved the reaction of the men - he hardly noticed the women - especially the gay men. Big Budd seemed to have no difficulty figuring out who was queer - all the guys stared, but the gay ones had this… lust in their eyes.
Big Budd made sure they got a good look - he LOVED showing it off!
All of the Littleman’s guys did. Exiting the bus became an erotic parade. So absorbed in it, as a matter of fact, that none of them noticed the bus pull away, the Old Man still sitting in the front seat, helplessly orgasming into his own mouth, beginning his unexpected journey to Malibu.
Dane allowed them to stop a minute on the sidewalk, so the public could get a gander more. “It’s the Littleman’s look,” announced Dane to the crowd, like a barker at a sideshow. All the guys began to flex and pose - Big Budd included - goofing around at first, but then they found themselves getting turned-on by the public display. “It’s the latest thing in athletic men’s fashion,” Dane continued, indicating the guys. “This is our MODEL convention! Yeah, that’s the ticket! All these guys are company models. What do you think of them? Aren’t they HOT?”
The crowd applauded! A couple of the braver fags howled liked dogs, barking at them to show their approval. Big Budd made eye-contact with a couple guys in the crowd, who stared at him as if transfixed, hypnotized - he loved that they lusted for him. He flexed just for them, teasing them with his muscle, his growing cock.
He felt like seduction would no longer be a challenge for him. With this body, he could have whoever he wanted.
And he wanted them all!
Dane mentioned the web site for product availability, model profiles, and information on how YOU could join the Littleman’s team! Big Budd was impressed at what a natural salesman Dane was. On the other hand, he obviously believed in the product… So did Big Budd - and they still had two amps to go!
He remembered, just yesterday, when he said he’d only do one. He didn’t want to be a freak, he’d said - he just wanted to improve himself a little bit, maybe put on some more muscle size, a bit of length to the cock.
He chuckled. How fuckin’ stupid…
But he forgave himself pretty easily. How could he have known?
Big Budd and the others flexed until Dane said it was time to get back to the schedule. They left a disappointed crowd outside - and were mildly disappointed themselves when Dane wouldn’t allow them to go back to their rooms. Instead, he led them to the meeting room on the second floor (at least they took the grand staircase, thought Big Budd, so everybody in the lobby could get a chance to see them) - where he sat them back down in their same chairs, and launched into a lecture that explained company policies, expectations, strategies, benefits, sales-techniques, all the business crap that would never have interested Big Budd before today.
For some reason, today Big Budd was soaking it up like it was the most interesting, important information he’d ever heard. ALL of them were. It was in this short period that they really BECAME Littleman’s men - when they learned the company secrets. Still, the clincher was a movie that Dane showed them. Again, it was digitally recorded on his laptop, and projected on a screen via this fascinating little device that connected to Dane’s computer. Big Budd didn’t understand computers - hardly anyone in his hometown had one - so he fairly marveled at the technology.
Anyway, this movie that Dane showed. Unlike the clip he’d screened yesterday, which was basically normal men going through the transformation, today it was fully-developed Littleman’s men doing what they do best - flexing and fucking. Big, hairy, lumbering, over-muscled super-studs playing with their fire-hose dicks, fucking with uncontrolled lust, worshipping each other and themselves, Big Budd lost himself in the erotic imagery, actually learning a thing or two about successful techniques for men of that size. HIS size soon enough.
No surprise that he, and all the other men in the conference room - Dane included - started jerking off as they watched. How could they not? How could they possibly resist the siren song of muscular possibility? Why would they want to?
Who wouldn’t want to be a Littleman’s Man?
There was a moment when Big Budd considered the possibility that they were being hypnotized by the video - they were all stroking in the same rhythm, after all - but it didn’t concern him. As a matter of fact, he found himself open to it. If it was going to make him a better Littleman’s Man, which in turn would make him bigger, hairier and more masculine, he’d do anything.
On screen, a gigantic beast of a man appeared - the biggest they’d seen yet, including what the Old Man had become - with the innocent face of a teenage boy. The camera panned up his freakish muscle, past the football-sized calves and the torso-sized thighs, past the tight, ridged abs and the bloated shelf of a chest, past the erection that stood so tall as to block a good portion of the cleavage, past the bull-like neck and the yoke-like traps, to settle on his handsome, beautiful young face with its square jaw and heavy five-o’clock shadow.
The man-boy smiled. His name and age appeared on the bottom of the screen. “Jarrod Hamilton,” it read. “Eighteen years old.”
Stepping into the frame came a man that could have been Jarrod’s twin, same monstrous arms, same structure and size, same bodyhair patterns, but though they had the same facial features, there was something about him, something more mature, something around the eyes. But for that, they were identical. He smiled and wrapped his arm’s around Jarrod’s muscular shoulders, hugging them close.
“Colin Hamilton,” the screen read. “Jarrod’s father. Forty-seven years old.” The father’s erection grew into frame as he kissed his son.
Handsome, manly Jarrod smiled in a tight close-up, his look seductive, his manner self-assured. Looking directly in the camera, in a deep, rumbling voice, as his father kissed his scruffy neck, he said, “Cum.”
And they did. The men onscreen and the men in the hotel meeting room. They all shot at once, the best example of teamwork that Big Budd had ever experienced. They all orgasmed together, they all bonded together, and they all accepted their destinies together.
They were Littleman’s Men now - they understood everything.
So after Dane explained their evening assignment, after they’d taken their fourth amp - the Bartender had a double, remember, and one of their little group got a special surprise - after all that, they FINALLY had some time to go out into the city.
For Big Budd - for all of them - it would be one of the most incredible nights of his life.
He couldn’t help but flex - the muscle felt so good.
Fuck yeah, he was growing again.
Fuck, fuck. Muscle. Good. Fuck, yeah!
Orgasm. Again. Endless - better. Always better.
Fuck - he was ready again!