PLAYING WITH FanTCdude'S TOYS - part 8

By absman420
published June 22, 2019
Summary

Big Budd rides the mechanical bull… then Mac… then (finally) Dane.

That night was a dream for Big Budd - a forbidden dream, one formerly hidden in the back aisles of unconsciousness by fear and repression. The kind of dream a guy in rural Kansas didn’t always own up to having. Well, at least the kind of dream THIS guy from rural Kansas didn’t own up to having.

Imagine this Kansas farm-boy riding a mechanical bull at a gay country-western bar in San Francisco, wearing only spandex shorts, cowboy boots, and a scarf around his neck - (His hat got thrown off on the first buck.) - immediately after taking the fourth amp of the Littleman’s formula, the stuff that has been turning him into an over-muscled, over-sexed, over-hung freak of nature - (A feeling, by the way, that he was starting to love.)

At first, the patrons at the bar were probably surprised that someone was riding the mechanical bull at all. The thing hardly ever got used - “atmosphere” they called it - mostly, it collected dust. Every now and then a couple of drunk guys would play near it, try to have sex against it or whatever, but on the whole it sat unused - except at circuit parties or when the rodeo was in town.

They heard the whirr of the engine, the start of the machine, and when they turned their heads to identify the sound, they saw an Olympia-sized bodybuilder riding it. Maybe they thought he’d been hired by the bar - so hairy, maybe a COLT model, even though he was bigger than COLT’S usual fare. Big Budd had always had a weak chin, but the Littleman’s formula seemed to have improved THAT, too. Now he was square-jawed and strong, handsome and heart-breaking, with a rough goatee from the uncontrollable growth of his facial hair, a peculiar gleam in his eye, something that made him seem playful - or flirty. Definitely horny.

And while he rode the mechanical bull, one hand on the rope, the other loosely held out to the side, gripping with his muscular inner-thighs, Big Budd grew even more. The buzz of the fourth amp swelled in him, forcing his muscles to expand even further, making him grow beyond the boundaries of his imagination.

The buzz pounded in his ears, jungle drums to accompany the jerky rocking of the bull, the cheers of the gathering crowd barely distinguishable above the din of his metamorphosis. Were the guys watching able to see the change? The growth? The veins thicken and become more pronounced?

And what about his cock? What about his balls, nearly now the size of citrus fruit in need of juicing? Big Budd pressed his cock into the horn of the saddle - he could feel himself hardening and he welcomed it, bigger than a bull himself. The bucking machine fucked him like a spastic lover, reminding him of how badly he himself needed attention.

His ass swelled - the thighs gripping the machine sloping like French curves, crushing the sides of the ride like a cheap, tin can, leaving an impression that men would lay their legs in and compare themselves to for years to come, long after the mechanical bull broke and died, suffering under the new weight of Big Budd.

As the engine coughed out one more turn, it stopped with Big Budd facing the crowd, allowing him to flex for his admirers. Sitting on the stalled bull, he put his arms behind his head and flexed his abs - his gorgeous, rock-hard, impossibly thin waist, especially given the thickness of his lower back, leading the eye up to the insertion point of his u-shaped lats.

And his cock fought the confines of the Littleman’s spandex, but if there was any inhibition left in Big Budd, no one would know it. Stretching out like a billy-club over his left hip, now nearly eighteen inches long, the crowd cheered his cock. Sure, but who could TAKE it? Where was an ass talented enough to accept his beautiful new manhood?

Then, as if in answer to his need, a man caught his eye. And not just any man.

It was Mac, the blonde guy who’d received his initial dose of the Littleman’s formula from Big Budd only minutes before - the challenge Big Budd had to perform to receive HIS fourth amp. Mac had definitely gone through some changes. What had been a man who’d resembled any too thin country-western star now had the body of a professional gymnast, over-sized arms, tight abs and trunk, perky round ass. He’d already grown out of his shirt - the buttons had clearly popped and the seams had obviously torn - and his jeans were about to give up the fight - though they were loose on his waist, the thighs had broken free.

He stared at Big Budd with a smirk on his face, a hungry look in his eye - Big Budd spotted him as a fellow Littleman’s Man merely by his vibe, his new aura. Mac was confident, uninhibited, and erect, his uncontrollable hard-on obvious in his tightening jeans.

Another Littleman’s guy can take me, Big Budd thought. Whatever else this shit does to us, I reckon it makes us able to suck and fuck with these monster cocks. Mac’s blonde ass could take me.

So he sauntered over to the muscular guy, his big, eighteen inch cock jutting out of his spandex shorts, almost to the bottom of his ribcage. The men watching at the bar couldn’t help but get hard themselves, riveted to Big Budd and the blonde gymnast who reached out to fondle the giant’s hairy muscles.

“This is so hot,” said Mac. “I feel fuckin’ awesome!”

“You want me to fuck you?” asked Big Budd. “You reckon you can take my big cock up your ass?”

“The way I feel right now,” Mac said, flexing his growing biceps, “I could take all the men in this room at the same time. Actually, I kind of wanna.”

Big Budd smiled. “That’s the formula working in you, changing you,” he said, pressing his massive body into the blonde, pushing him back against the wooden rail, made to look like a split-rail fence around the mechanical bull. “Making it so we can fuck each other. Making it so we can take each other’s massive cocks inside ourselves.” He slipped his hands inside the waistband of Mac’s jeans, taking advantage of the space between the loose material and the rock-hard ab-wall to feel the pubes thickening beneath his hand - then, he popped the button. “Making it so we wanna. C’mon, partner, you gotta let me fuck you. I reckon I gotta fuck.”

“You gonna fuck me right here in front of all these people?”

Big Budd kissed him. “That bother you?” he asked.

Mac might’ve struggled with it for a moment, but then there was a fluttering in his eye as the formula took an even greater hold, then he turned around, bending over slightly to put his hands atop the split-rail fence. “Not at all,” he said, offering his ass to Big Budd. “Actually, it kind of turns me on.”

“No doubt,” said Big Budd, ripping Mac’s jeans down over his hot new ass.

The crowd gasped at this move, though no one did anything to stop it. Not the bartenders, who’d stopped pouring and leaned over the bar to watch. Not the doormen, whose job it was to put a halt to these activities, in case the police raided or some-such. No, they stood like everyone else, watching this massive, hairy bodybuilder slide his impossible cock up the ass of another hot guy who seemed to be growing before their eyes.

They couldn’t help but play with themselves. Hell, the whole bar did.

And when these two guys fucked, it was rough - powerful. Masculine. Big Budd’s big cock was so sensitive, each thrust felt more alive than the one before. He was a machine. Fuckin’ this dumb… fuckin’…kid…

He lifted Mac up by the lats and spun him around until they faced each other, Mac’s legs wrapping around Big Budd’s waist. Big Budd supported the blonde guy’s weight with merely his own huge cock, buried in the guy’s ass, while he held out his arms and flexed a double bis for the crowd. The cheered.

Mac fucked himself on Big Budd’s cock - he loved what his new ass could do, what his body was now capable of. Fuck and fuck and fuck.

Big Budd couldn’t hold back anymore, suddenly blowing a huge load into Mac’s ass, filling him with so much cum that the excess dribbled down the blonde guy’s thickening legs. Mac shot, too, caught between a moan and a scream - the vocal cue that allowed the guys watching them to orgasm, all of them wishing they were on the receiving end of Big Budd.

Of course, thanks to the Littleman’s Formula, they were both of them ready to go again almost immediately - the recovery rate was almost instantaneous. When Big Budd pulled his cock out of the blonde guy, he was struck by its growth while inside. Even bigger now, Big Budd’s cock was monstrous, freaky - bigger than anything he’d seen any of the other Littleman’s guys sporting up ’til now - he loved it!

And he still had his fifth and final amp of the formula to go - would that get his cock up to two feet?

Big Budd allowed a couple of the guys to lick his big dick clean while he flexed for the rest of the crowd. He loved being the center of attention and showing off his body - look at these big, hairy muscles! - flex! - look at what a man I am!

He posed while the guys licked him spotlessly clean - both attempting to take him down their throats, both failing - he posed while they tucked him back in his spandex shorts - he had to quickly re-tuck in the Littleman’s style - and he let them touch him as he walked to the bar and got another beer, picking his cowboy hat up off the floor and popping it back on his handsome, manly head.

Yep, he found himself saying over and over. The Littleman’s group. Yep, a formula that creates massive muscles like these - and I reckon you saw what it’s done for my cock! The sales pitch was so easy - Big Budd was a natural. Yep, I’m pretty well into it - but look at that blonde guy over there, he just got his first dose tonight. Ain’t HE hot?

And there was Mac, shirtless, pointing out the hair that was growing down the center of his steel-plated abs to the guys he was talking to. Seduction was clearly on his mind - Big Budd could see the blonde guy’s hard-on beneath his jeans. Yep, Mac was at the beginning of a whole new life.

Just like I am, Big Budd reckoned, running his hand across his own muscular chest, feeling the terrific expanse of size, the thick coating of hair, the sensitive nipple. He was getting turned on again, too. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose control and probably fuck every guy in this bar.

What a different man he was then when he’d arrived in San Francisco two days ago - how he loved it!

But he wanted the company of others like himself. He knew perfectly well that, in opposition to their hopes, none of these guys would be capable of taking him up their ass - he was simply too big. His cock was too big. He was caught between knowing how he loved that and knowing that he was now limited to guys who’d been through the transformation themselves.

On the other hand, what was wrong with the guys who’d been through the transformation? Nothing. Like him, they were just about perfect in every way. And they were so hot. And they could fuck so good.

And anybody who HADN’T been through the transformation? Well, if he really wanted someone that bad, he could put ‘em through it himself. Wasn’t that what his new job was supposed to be? He was actually starting to look forward to going back to Kansas - there were SEVERAL guys he wouldn’t mind forcing this on - a couple of the denizens of Benny’s Hackin’ Shack came to mind almost immediately.

And the idea of that, plus physicality of the many men fondling him in some way as he drank his beer, started to cause his cock to stir again.

No, he thought, looking around. As much as he loved being worshipped, he really wanted another Littleman’s man - specifically, he wanted to see Officer Jacobs.

Or his brother.

Then Mac was beside him again, delirious - drunk? - toting a heavy-set country-boy along for the ride. “Thank you,” the blond guy said, leaning in and kissing Big Budd, feeling the mass of Big Budd’s chest. “For everything.”

Big Budd smiled and took another gulp of beer. “You still got the card?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Mac said, patting his pocket.

Big Budd spoke low. “I hope you end up making the commitment,” he said, running a finger down Mac’s already pronounced cleavage. “I hope you end up joining us.”

The other guy spoke, the redneck attached to Mac. “Maybe you’d like to come join US?” he asked. “I got a place right around the corner.”

Big Budd smirked. “You reckon you could take this?” he asked, grabbing the base of his enormous cock.

The guy barked a laugh. “I ain’t no bottom,” he said, with the attitude of a confirmed top.

“You would be if I came along with you.” Big Budd said, wrapping his arm possessively around Mac - the little blonde curled up almost instinctively. In Mac’s ear, Budd whispered, “Fuck him good. You’re a Littleman’s Man now.”

“I will,” said Mac, squeezing him and allowing himself to be pulled away by the bulky country-boy.

Big Budd watched them go - Mac’s jeans looked like they were about to burst from the growth of his legs and ass. Yeah, there was nothing better than a muscular ass. Big Budd reckoned that was pretty much what life was going to be about from now on - and he didn’t mind it a bit.

He figured - correctly - that he’d be able to find the leather bar where both Officer Jacobs and his brother were. They were on the same block. But just as he adjusted his cowboy hat, his thick cock, and the queer bandana around his neck, just as he started to head for the door, ignoring the boos and cat-calls from the disappointed men at the bar, who should walk in but Dane - the big man himself.

Big Budd remembered when they’d met - yesterday! - when he’d thought that Dane was the biggest man he’d ever seen. Now, barely twenty-four hours later, he thought Dane was kind of small. At least, compared to some of the other Littleman’s guys - himself included. That’s not to say Dane was any kind of shirk, just to emphasize that Big Budd had gotten so huge. (And he still had one amp to go!)

And in walked Dane, with the same thick hair on his chest that Big Budd now sported, showing off the muscle in a way that Big Budd wouldn’t have thought possible, actually high-lighting the cuts in his abs, the grooves in his thighs. Dane wore the same kind of Littleman’s spandex shorts that Big Budd did, except Dane’s were blue, workboots and a wife-beater that didn’t quite make it all the way down his abs. That look was almost becoming clichŽ.

Still, he looked hot as shit. Big Budd wouldn’t kick him out of bed.

(And who’d have thought Big Budd would ever think that?)

“Damn,” Dane said when he saw Big Budd just inside the doorway. “Look at you, cowboy.”

“I done the fourth amp.”

Dane smiled. “No shit,” he said, then he smiled. “You’re as big as me, now.”

Big Budd openly fondled his own nuts. “I reckon I’m bigger,” he said modestly, flicking his eyebrows, popping the halves of his chest.

Dane started getting hard. “Maybe we should go back to the hotel? Check.”

Big Budd smiled as seductively as he knew. “We could fuck right here for all I care,” he said matter-of-factly. “These guys wouldn’t mind. Hell, they already done seen it once tonight!” He patted his crotch with pride.

“Well, we don’t need to give it ALL away for free, do we? We really should leave something for the PAYING customers.”

Big Budd chuckled. “I reckon you got a point,” he said, then he turned and addressed the bar, raising his voice. Dane didn’t think Big Budd could be so assertive - he liked seeing it. Big Budd was going to do big things for the Littleman’s company. “Gentlemen,” Big Budd said in his loud twang, holding his arms open to include them all, “Thanks for your attention this evening. I’m off to fuck another hot stud Littleman’s Man. Clap if y’all would buy the video.”

The exited to the cheers of the cowboy bar - Big Budd’s ego swelled, too. (Maybe he WOULD appear in one or two of them videos the company made. Just for fun. Like the ones they’d seen at their first meeting - the ones that, at the time, had horrified Big Budd, but now interested him. Excited him. Naw, he wouldn’t mind bein’ one of THOSE guys.)

They walked up the street together, these two big bodybuilders dressed in spandex shorts and little else, their muscles pumped, their cocks engorging, flopping uncomfortably back and forth between their amped thighs. They were stared at, gawked at, whistled at - they were the center of attention, and Big Budd loved it! Although he tried to maintain his “cool” - his arrogant detachment - he flexed as much as he could for the onlookers, and he knew Dane was doing the same thing.

There was no shyness, no inhibitions, no worries - he was too masculine, too muscular for that - when you were hung the way Big Budd was, you didn’t need hang-ups.

As they walked up the block, Dane called for the shuttle bus to take them back to the hotel. “I figure you can do your final amp,” Dane said to Big Budd, “while we fuck. That way, I can feel you grow while you’re inside me.”

“You gonna do one, too?” asked Big Budd. “I reckon I don’t wanna go through it alone. I want you on the ride with me.”

Dane snorted. “I’m always happy to do a hit,” he said, turning to face Big Budd, “but that big cock of yours needs to be inside of me when we do. We aren’t growing that thing to monstrous proportions so you can waste it bein’ a bottom.”

Big Budd took an assertive stance, forcing Dane to back up a hair, running him into a street sign. “Don’t worry, I like to fuck,” said Big Budd, “but I like to GET fucked, too. You boys made sure of that.” Hell, even now his own aggression was turning him on - Big Budd’s big cock returned to life.

“You can always make your own playmates,” said Dane quietly, wrapping his arms around Big Budd’s thick torso. “Like I did with you. Like the way I gave you the cock I’ve always wanted to be fucked by.”

Big Budd smirked, putting his arms up over Dane’s shoulders, folding them around Dane’s head. “This cock is gonna do more than fuck you,” Big Budd said, pressing his thickening dick into Dane’s swelling package. “I reckon this cock is gonna turn you into my little muscle slave. My little muscle pussy. You like the sound of that?”

Dane moaned when they kissed. Yeah, Big Budd figured, he DID.

They were barely on the shuttle before Dane had Big Budd’s cock in his mouth, pulling it free of its spandex confines - all eighteen-plus inches. Whatever else this formula did, it made them able to take each other’s enormous appendages down their throats or up their butts - it made it easy. And fun.

Big Budd leaned back in the seat as Dane knelt on the floor between his thick, muscular legs and gave Big Budd perhaps the best blow job he’d ever gotten. All Big Budd could do was roll his head back, stroke his own massive pecs with one hand, feel the manly hair and the swollen nipples, and guide Dane’s head with the other, forcing Dane to deep swallow.

It was so masculine - he was lost in his feelings of masculinity, fucking Dane’s mouth with his super-huge cock, his heavily muscled body. As they drove through the streets of San Francisco, he’d become the freak he’d always feared being. Except that now he loved it.

And he was about to get even bigger.

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