Fuxer: Chapter 1 & 2

By abracadabra923 - abracadabra923@yahoo.com
published November 29, 2019

The super-powered Xander joins the Brotherhood Of Initiates (BOIs) at 18. Being the only gay hero among pussy-loving meathead dudebros has few perks… until the world breaks.

The straight2gay conversion takes a little to get going but there’s plenty of muscle growth, voyeurism, hyper-cock and teen superhero antics on the way. Partly inspired by stories by absman 420.

A Tremor In The Cosmos

Xander had been sixteen when he had tripped, fallen and… never hit the ground.

With his face hovering just above pavement, the awkward, gangly kid with windswept blond hair and green eyes wide open in shock had reached toward the concrete and landed gently.

Many a hero had blown their chance at a civilian identity by sharing their secret with one friend too many, so Xander spent night after night researching superheroes in secret.

Especially male heroes.

Soon he became obsessed with their skin tight costumes, rippling muscles, prominent bulges and, most of all, their perfect asses.

Every night he jerked off to the thought of his “super crush”, the amazing Zeal – earth’s most powerful and most muscular hero. Zeal was captain of the Manly League and had the most amazing pecs in that red, skin tight suit.

Eventually he revealed his power to his parents and they bought him a subscription to the Hero Chronicles - comics that depicted the real adventures of earth’s supermen (and women).

The drawn characters’ muscles were even bigger and more pronounced, deepening Xander’s obsession.

For the next six month, the teen kept practicing. Eventually he could hover in place and direct his fall. He could have leapt over a house but only dared to practice indoors or far away from people.

At the same time, he started to hit the gym. To his joy, results came in quick and he achieved a nice, lean smattering of teen muscles – a little biceps, skinny abs, some leg definition.

Xander was seventeen when he grabbed a 10kg/22lbs weight plate at the gym and tried to lift it but ended up throwing it at the ceiling. Reflexively he caught it on the way down, which by all means should have broken his arms.

He had super strength.

After a panicked glance – okay, no one had seen him – Xander let out a “Fuark yeah” and flexed his lithe boy muscles at the mirror.

Flight and strength! Except maybe…

Once at home, Xander lit a candle. He moved his finger toward the flame with hesitation. His courage was leaving him as he began to feel pain. He held still and… the pain stayed constant. He could move his hand into the fire and it felt no worse than a little pinch.

Xander nearly had the full “flying brick” package: flight, invulnerability, super strength. If his levitation-leap got stronger he could one day qualify as an A-lister.

Over the next few month, the blond teen worked out hard, careful not to deploy his powers at the gym, but results plateaued. He’d stay far behind his comic book physique ideal. Sure, he knew it wasn’t realistic. Few real heroes achieved that look truly, but he had hoped.

He kept practicing anyway, occasionally trying to see if he could develop new powers.

Could he do phasing? Xander tried walking through walls, sometimes by pushing into them, sometimes just by walking with his eyes closed. No, he wasn’t a “phaser”.

Telepathy? He tried listening for stray thought around him for weeks. Nope. Telekinesis? Not even a paperclip was moved by his wild gestures.

All that was left to try were “visions”. Heat vision like his big crush Zeal would be great.

Every day Xander focused his bright green eyes on an object for minutes at a time but to no avail. All it did was give him eye-ache.

On his way home from the gym, Xander saw smoke on the horizon. The roof of a ten story house was on fire.

He had a momentary urge to help. But the teen had no way of getting there unless he wanted to leap from building to building in plain sight without a mask. Plus, he had no training.

He wondered if people were in danger.

Then, his perspective surged forward, as if he was flying toward the building. He could see the details clearly. Freaked out, Xander pulled back. He still stood where he had been. Only his vision had changed like a zooming telescope.

Fuck yeah, he had a clairvoyance power.

The teen looked again and his disembodied perspective got sucked toward the flames far away. Then… the walls of the building were gone. It looked like a doll house. He could see everything inside, such as the firefighters evacuating the last few inhabitants.

He could move his vision back and forth, fading out more or less of the building so he could see into drawers and cabinets as their walls vanished or see the cables and pipes within the concrete shell. He almost forgot about the fire.

What brought Xander back after five minutes of staring at the dollhouse was a blinding headache. He dragged himself home and slept it off.

In the morning he still felt a dull pain but he was too excited to care.

“Dad! I can see through walls. And really far away, too.”

“Oh,” his father said, putting the newspaper down. “Uh… congrats. Do you want to test it?”

“Yes! Hold up the news.”

Xander’s dad left the room and pressed the morning paper against the wall from the other side. “So how did yesterday’s game end?”

“Three-nil,” Xander said. “Easy. Go farther away.”

His dad sighed. “Fine. I’ll go out into the shack.”

“No. Get into your car! I want to know how many blocks it takes till I can’t read anymore.”

“Blocks? Wow, my son’s gonna be an A-list clairvoyant. Holy moly.”

Xander was excited to find out his sight reached just over a mile/ almost two kilometers.

But to be honest, he was more interested in seeing through clothes than walls.

The main way Xander “practiced” his special sight was to look at the naked bodies of boys at school that were hidden under their clothes. Whenever he wanted, it was as if everybody’s covers just vanished once they were in close proximity to him.

For the next few weeks, Xander jerked off about four times a night, thinking about fucking the exposed holes he was seeing all day. The constant use of this power also kept giving him headaches.

Ultimately he had to admit that he was going mad and stopped. Well… no, but he at least toned it down a lot. He made rules like “3 boys at school a day” or “only 10 minutes in the gym” and stuck to them. He was going to be a hero after all and heroes followed the rules. Also it kept the headaches away.

Xander was mere weeks from turning eighteen when he once again flexed his not-superhero-worthy boy muscles shirtless in the full length mirror in his bedroom, dreaming of having absurd comic book character proportions.

His voice had gotten deeper, his jaw had gotten sharper, his hairstyle had gotten less cringe-y. But he’d have to settle for a slender body at 65kg/143lbs with an okay 180cm/5’11’’ that seemed not to want to get any higher.

Then… something on his head itched. He tried scratching between his bright blond hairs but the itch was… outside of him? It came from behind the back of his head.

“The fuck?” he mumbled.

Then the itch traveled into his skull and an invisible something was being pulled into him from several directions.

“The fuck!” he shouted.

Staring wide eyed at the mirror Xander saw his biceps double in size. He managed to press against the influx of the… something. The growth halted.

Xander slowly, anxiously flexed his now massive arms. They looked stupidly overgrown on his frame, but holy shit his upper arms were huge and he loved it. He was mesmerized.

He tried pushing into wherever the muscles had come from and felt the mass fade from his body, shrinking his biceps to its original size.

He wanted it back.

Xander let his body get flooded by the supernatural muscle and watched his skin get filled out.

Fingers trembling, he stripped down to his briefs.

He looked fucking gorgeous – slightly buffer all over. And it wasn’t as if he had to do anything to hold the muscles inside him – it just felt like his natural state. Getting rid of muscles was just as intensive a process as acquiring it.

He had been gifted a muscle morph power – no effort, just results.

The bathroom scale now said 70kg/155lbs. He looked more muscular than any boy at school and he hadn’t even gained that much mass.

How far could he go?

After forcibly shrinking back to his starting body, Xander put the scale in front of his long bedroom mirror and started pulling in muscle energy by… not flexing, exactly. It felt like he was flexing outside of himself. Para-flexing.

70kg again – a superhero-worthy teen hunk indeed. 75kg/165lbs and he was a teen physique bodybuilder. So this was what his body was capable of with maximum dedication to bodybuilding. His proportions were more perfect than he had dared to dream of. Popping abs on narrow hips, thick and edgy pecs, wide calves and forearms.

His heart was racing. He felt like he was dreaming the most precious dream and the fear of waking up kept him staring – not even wanting to blink.

As he kept going, he saw his face change, too. Edgier, broader and a little more aggressive.

Even his hands were changing, fingers getting thicker to fit his broadening frame. His shoulders widened. His abs popped into an eight pack, framed by a sharply cut V.

His pecs… Wow, those pecs. He reached up to touch them, then down to touch his immense legs.

It got more difficult to take in muscle mass. 80kg/176lbs now. He was breaking the limit of what his body could have realistically supported, with heavy use of steroids and a life dedicated to the gym. And it had all happened in seconds.

The hem of his briefs were straining. Oh yes, his ass had gotten massive – two perfect globes poking from his yield-sign shaped back.

And his dick… Wait, his dick had grown, too?

It wasn’t just that he had gotten a semi hard-on, he had definitely grown. Maybe a good quarter in length and girth. He couldn’t wait to measure it but he didn’t want to tear his eyes away from his reflection. He was all about the muscles for now.

Could he go further?

Xander para-flexed once more and as soon as he took in a single gram more, the hem of his briefs snapped.

Okay fine, he could no longer ignore what was happening to his dick. It had practically ‘dicksploded’ from his briefs.

The last push of muscle mass had suddenly pushed it into the anatomically absurd with a rush of mass.

He stripped. And stared. He was a god.

The rod dangling between his legs was notably girthier than a soda can. A veiny, pulsing soda can. He measured its mostly soft length at 20cm/8’’ with balls to match.

His foreskin had no chance of covering the head, so he was effectively skinned back and exposed.

His package was obscene. It strained the limits of believable anatomy. Like on the fake morphs of Captain Zeal he sometimes jerked off to.

Not only that. His skin was paper thin, enveloping his muscles as if about to burst – no stretch marks, though, somehow – and that included his dick skin. His dick veins were prominent as fuck and with his foreskin pushed back even pants would not hide the shape of his mushroom.

Yeah, of course Xander was leaking precum like crazy.

With his last ounce of focus, the ecstatic super teen pushed off the ground and hovered above his floor in the nude, legs lightly bent, arms in a loosely suggested most-muscular pose.

How much more?

With quivering hands, he para-flexed for his life. Xander pulled in muscles like a starving man stealing bread.

A tear fell from one of his bright green eyes onto his cheek at the sight of ultra-perfection. A drop of precum glistened on the way down from his tip onto the scale.

He hit true comic book physique.

No more muscles arrived after that. He could not para-flex further. He had been given more than he had ever dared to hope for.

Xander hovered and stared, unthinking. He swallowed hard and dropped gently to the ground. The scale read 86kg/190lbs.

Pure muscle. Pure beauty. Godhood.

And a divine rod to match. No pants would have been able to cover that. He’d walk around with his dick veins and mushroom outline visible even when soft.

The thought, of course, made him harden. His new dick was a shower, not a grower, so Xander had to make due with a ‘mere’ 8 inches.

Masturbating now required the use of both hands. There was just so much meat to handle. Also Xander was used to having help from his foreskin, making the process more time consuming. He had to learn how to jerk off all over again. Not that he minded spending time with his superpowered tool.

He jerked off twice in a row, flexing at the mirror and feeling himself all over, rubbing pecs and abs and hams and ass and arms, imagining his dick inside the hole of Zeal – objectively earth’s greatest ass.

His orgasms both times were easily among the most intense he had ever had.

Xander ‘muscled down’ before his parents came home, shrinking to his original size.

Okay, he shrank down to a few kilos more than his original body, since his old self was unbearably small to his eyes now.

Once dressed, he burst out of his room and gave his parents the great news. He’d enroll as a superhero the second he hit eighteen.

After celebrating his new power with his parents for a while, Xander retreated to his room, locked the door, muscled up to just below the ‘dicksposion threshold’ at 80kg/176lbs and jerked off five times over the course of the night.

Becoming A BOI

The next superhero recruitment option was just two weeks after Xander’s birthday.

His dad drove him into New Port City and Xander waited – together with three other boys – in a corporate looking office with some weird medical equipment.

A bit bored, Xander used his super sight on the present company to stare at their naked bodies. They weren’t much too look at.

“Hey,” said the boy next to him. “I’m Todd. West coast. I can teleport. How about you?”

“Uh,” Xander started, feeling dumb. He had just been staring at Todd’s crotch. No way was he going to mention his special vision. “Xander. Local ‘burbs. I’m almost a flying brick and I can muscle up.”

He flexed his unenhanced arm without using his power and chuckled nervously.

Todd looked plain, maybe even a bit ugly. It might just have been the ‘crew cut’ that looked more like a lawnmower accident than a hairstyle.

“So… good luck, Todd.”

“You too, Xander.”

Then a whole slew of people entered, men in lab coats and two masked boys who showed a lot of skin and occupied Xander’s attention – until the moment Omen himself entered.

Omen’s body was clad in a white and gold costume, so tight it looked painted on safe for the helmet and the light, flowing, golden cape. He was a member of Heroics United - easy to tell by the “Hero-U” badge on his chest.

Xander had researched every A-lister.

Omen was athletic, tall, not quite muscular but definitely to Xander’s hero-worshipping taste. Seeing the adult flying-brick, mind-reader and future-seer in real life, Xander’s opinion rose even higher. Omen had an overwhelming presence.

“Hello recruits,” Omen said, his voice telepathically spoken into Xander’s head directly. He and the other teen recruits flinched at the intrusion. “I’m familiar with your applications so let’s get right to testing.”

Todd was teleporting around – it turned out his power was fairly short range – while Xander ran on the treadmill shirtless.

“We’re ready,” said a lab coat wearer. “Now please.”

Xander para-flexed while running, casually turning into a blond god.

He had carefully chosen a jockstrap with a solid cup to keep his mega-dick from flopping around in his shorts. He was going to stay under dicksposion threshold, just in case.

The other recruits all stopped what they were doing and stared. Fuck yeah, he was worth staring at. He couldn’t help but grin.

“Now read the first row again,” said the scientist, looking only at his device’s screen.

Xander focused his vision on a building a block away – looking through multiple buildings in between - and read numbers off an eye test chart that the team had prepared for him over there.

“Good,” said the lab coat man. “Now the middle row, please?”

“Sure thing doc,” Xander said and briefly refocused his vision on the testing chamber he was in – just to check everybody was still staring and drooling. Oh yeah, they all had to be jealous as fuck. Then he read the numbers.

“It seems,” the scientist said, “that you can see through the 4th dimension. Your muscle up power is possibly connected to this, if my readings are correct. You might be pulling additional mass from the 4th dimension… or something.”

One of the masked boys chuckled. “Thanks, doc, that’s precise.”

Xander suppressed laughter and read the final row. He got to step off the treadmill.

The guys with plain face hoods and visors wore the uniforms of the Brotherhood Of Initiates – “boi” for short.

The sky blue and white uniforms consisted of something like a wrestling singlet but without legs, starting at the bulge like a speedo and traveling up to the chest. Their exposed, hairless limbs were protected by forearm and shin armor that transitioned into white gloves and boots.

The leg-cut singlet was sky blue and was tight enough to show every feature of their physique as if glued onto their skin. Those two had to be training hard. Speaking of hard, one of them had a semi-boner, visible only to Xander’s 4D sight.

These bois were B-listers, also known as sidekicks, lacking the battle prowess of a flying brick type. Their chests didn’t even carry hero names, just the labels B5 and B7.

The bois were both dark skinned, but their faces were shielded by glass impenetrable to Xander’s 4D vision, as was Omen’s.

“4D sight and 4D muscles, huh?” said the second masked boy.

“Apparently,” Xander said with a casual shrug. Oh yeah, he was the god of the fourth dimension. “Are we done?”

The taller boi gestured toward Omen. “His call.”

Two of the recruits were sent home. They had exaggerated on their application and failed. Only Todd and Xander were left.

The next test was on the roof of the skyscraper.

Todd could get higher than Xander could jump by repeatedly teleporting upward. But the teen god – still muscled up and shirtless – could fly higher than Todd’s tele-jump and did just that to show off.

The rest of his flight was less impressive, unfortunately. Omen flew close buy and gave instructions.

Xander could stay up without a problem but ascending was a struggle. Flying in a straight line was all right but he could only turn slowly and in a wide arc.

“You’re doing well,” Omen said, projecting right into Xander’s head on the flight back to the building. His golden cape fluttered elegantly. “At your age I was about at that level. We’ll see how you develop.”

“Does that mean I’m in?” Xander asked out loud. He didn’t want to respond in his mind. Too weird.

“One final test. And I’d appreciate if you stopped using your vision on my crotch.”

“I! Uh, that! Um, I’ve… well, I’d appreciate if you didn’t read my mind.”

“I don’t have to. I have eyes. I can see where yours are looking.”

“I’m just… trying to figure out your suit. Cause I can see everything but your face.”

“Ah,” Omen said, absentmindedly rubbing his visor. He seemed satisfied with the explanation. “Yes, this glass is an alien material. Zeal brought it back from Nexus Prime as precaution against people with powers like yours.”

“What’s Captain Zeal like?”

There was silence for a moment. “We’ve been on different teams for many years now. I can’t remember when I last saw him outside of work.”

Yeah, Xander remembered that the two had last been on one team in issue #45 of the Hero Chronicles. Sadly, no intel on his super crush to be gained.

They got back to the roof and Omen lead the way downstairs.

It wasn’t a test, it was an interrogation.

Omen sat in the corner, while Xander sat across from the two masked bois.

The one who had made fun of the scientist earlier, B5, had introduced himself as a freshly recruited telepath, specialized in lie detection. He had a slight Caribbean accent, dreadlocks under the face hood and a brown-skinned, athletic body that Xander eagerly took in.

Next to him was the guy who’d had a semi-boner. B7, the ‘danger detector’ was black with a buzz cut. His body was that of a young adult, with perky nipples from lingering, errant arousal. They were obscured by the singlet’s smoothing fabric, but could not escape Xander’s sight.

“Recruit Xander,” B5 said, shaking the blond teen out of his fantasy. “Do you intend to cause harm or detriment to superheroes or to work against their cause?”


“Do you hold any secrets that could cause you to do so, such as blackmail material?”

“Uh… No.”

“Do you hold something secret that could cause harm or detriment to superheroes or work against their cause?”

“I don’t think so… No.”

B5 nodded. “Honest.”

B7 gave a thumbs up. “Not a threat to be sensed.”

“And I’ve reached for the future of this reality,” Omen said, “and seen no catastrophe. But… there is a delicate matter. If words spreads about your ability to see through clothing… We had some difficulties in the past, making female civilians and staff members uncomfortable with clairvoyance powers. I’m…”

Xander took a deep breath and looked directly at the lie detecting sidekick’s visor. “I have not used my power to look at women or girls naked and will avoid doing so in the future. That is a principle I live by.”

The muscle god suppressed a chuckle and hoped dearly that Omen wasn’t going to use his mind reading power or ask follow up questions.

“Wow, holy fu-” B5 said. “I mean, dangit. That’s a principled stance, man. No lie.”

Omen got up and grabbed Xander’s muscular hand. “Welcome aboard, boi.”

“Wow, thank you, sir.”

“My pleasure, boi.” Omen pulled his visor up to reveal a smirking face. He was a dark skinned south Asian with bushy brows. “And you can call me Oliver.”

Omen aka Oliver did not stay long, flying off to a rescue mission nearby.

Xander and Todd got to ride in the Boi Wing One – a high-tech jet bound for the BOI headquarter. With them were B5 and B7, now introduced as Jed and Deshawn, who had taken off their masks and armor plates but kept on the skin tight, sky blue singlets. Those were no hindrance for Xander’s eyes.

Deshawn, the 20 year old, black danger detector, had a semi boner again, constricted in the solid cup of his singlet.

“Do you ever have to muscle down?” Deshawn asked.

Xander, now wearing a tank top, shrugged his mighty shoulders. “Nah, I could stay like this forever. It’s a passive power. Why?” He grinned. “Jealous?”

“Fuck man, who wouldn’t be?” Deshawn leaned back in his cushioned seat, lazily spread his naked, muscular legs wide and grabbed a handful of peanuts.

“Don’t think we’ll go easy on you,” Jed said with a smirk, “just cause you’re big, 4-D Xander.”

Todd chuckled. “Hehe, four-dee Xander. ‘For dicks ender’.”

Xander laughed along but he made a mental note not to let people call him 4-D Xander. Maybe, 4-Xander, or…

“Hm, what do y’all think of 4X as a hero name?” the teen with comic book hero proportions asked.

Jed rolled his eyes. “Earn a right to have a name first, rookie.”

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