Jim was squirming and struggling, trying to move in spite of the great weight of his new mutant cock bearing down on his pelvis. He had to get the hell away from all this craziness, perhaps to some reliable (hetero)male expert of some sort who might know what to do.
Then he heard a strange crunching noise, and his instincts made him murmur "Oh-oh" long before his intellect caught up. He became aware of a general bulking up in his lower body, and in fear he shoved his pants off just in time to watch them become green and ludicrously musclebound.
That does it, he thought. What is this, Bruce Banner Syndrome? At what point did I get bombarded by gamma rays?
He soon had to pull his shirt off as well, and watched in immobilized horror as his body transformed into some sort of giant hulking green Hercules before his. As much as he didn't want to admit it, even his own meager feminine side could appreciate that he was now so hypermasculine a being as to inspire nothing but berserk raw libido in any woman who looked at him.
He was glad for one chance: to be able to move once more. It was awkward and even silly, because he still had that damn tree of tool stabbing a good yard out from his crotch, but at least now he could get the hell away and --
Jim slumped a little against one wall, as if from a dizzy spell. He fought to think straight -- and yet only a lusty caveman chant of FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! reverberated through his brain. He shook his head hard, as if that could possibly exorcise the sexual mania.
Then he looked at the threesome, and his tree of cock twitched and throbbed, bucking and jumping about like a frisky horse. They all looked good, but he found himself especially turned on by the female once noted in vague passing as "Carlota the cleaning lady." He saw her football bulge of engorged vulva and felt a truly irresistible need. If anything, the sin was in denying the need, like refusing food to a starving man -- no, worse, like not permitting an apple to fall to the ground because of the Earth's gravitational pull. Woman was not simply a diversion or a hobby, no, Woman was his DESTINY.
"I ... can stop this ... ," Jim gasped weakly -- but Carlota was so gorgeous, her skin so silky and inviting, and her TITS, dear God, her TITS were even huger than Jennifer's, WAY huger -- he HAD to fuck her, he had to, he had to, he simply HAD to!
Now just a voyeur as his body lived a life all its own, Jim watched as he went to Carlota and pulled her from the threesome. She babbled with reverent euphoria in Spanish as she stroked and sucked him once more, his massive thickness still not able to fit her innermost cleavage. Then he could stand it no longer, and he handled her like some mere inconsequential rag doll as he thrusted himself inside her. He could actually feel her internal organs shifting to accomodate him but was too far gone to care, even when he began to wonder if his glans was lightly bumping against the heart and lungs themselves. Carlota's legs formed a skyward V for Victory as Jim's superhuman manhood proceeded to fuck her mercilessly into godstruck insensibility.
Go back - Go to the parent episode.
Sun Jul 04 12:33:25 2004