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One Hundred and One: Lone

By Josef Howard

He stood. Although he must have been almost three hundred pounds, he was only five and a half feet tall. From under his tight Wolverine t-shirt collar tufts of black hair curled up. In fact every inch of skin he exposed was hairy. His forearms, his triceps, the back of his hands, even his knuckles. His face was darkened by a beard that although recently shaved was still black. The hair on his head was thick, wavy and unkempt. When he smiled at the rest of them, he revealed a set of perfect teeth as white as pearls.

“Hi, I’m Cal. I’m a sophomore. I guess you can tell from the way I’m dressed that I read comics. I started in high school. Wolverine is my favorite character. I guess because I’m short like he is, and even though I got bullied, Wolverine never had to take shit from anybody. I’ve always been a little hairy too.

“I was a scrawny kid all my life. Never weighed much more than a hundred pounds. That’s probably why I got off on comics, especially the ones with outrageously muscular guys, like the Hulk or Thor. I drew my own characters too. I drew them even bigger than the guys I saw in the comics.

“Last fall I went to the campus health clinic like the rest of you. I had a cold. The doctor gave me a shot, which I thought was odd at the time, because usually they just send you home with aspirin and Sudafed, but what the hell, right?

“A couple weeks later I started to feel different. My clothes felt tight. At first I thought I’d washed them in hot water by mistake or something, but it got worse the week after. One morning I stepped out of the shower and when I saw myself in the mirror I did a double take. All of a sudden I had muscles. Not very big, but firm and well defined. Not only that, but I noticed something else. My dick seemed bigger.

“I thought it was some kind of late adolescent thing at first, but every week I grew a little more, until finally I looked like a completely different guy. I mean I had fucking biceps, a chest that filled out my shirts, and an honest to god package in my pants. Girls started staring at me. I lost my fear of talking to them. Even went on a few dates. Before spring semester I had a steady girl friend, and it was sweet. She loved sex. I mean who doesn’t when they can get it, right? She had these huge knockers, you know, like from some sex magazine – big, round, tight ones like cantaloupes. We had a real good thing, the two of us.

“By that time I was getting kind of big. I weighed around 190. For a guy my height that’s large. Abby thought I was a little too big, you know. She was only five foot three, and I had to be careful not to crush her when I fucked her on top. That wasn’t the only way I was too big for her. My dick was almost ten inches long and really thick. When we got going, if I fucked her extra hard, it started to hurt her.

“When I reached 200 pounds she broke up with me. When life closes a window it opens a door. One day my physics professor asks me stay after class. He closes the door behind the last student and stands up close to me, his thickly muscled chest in my face. He was the Clark Kent type. Always in dress shirt and a tie to class, but you could see he was really well built anyway.

“’You’ve been putting on some size,’ he says, ‘Cal.’ He puts his hand on my crotch then and squeezes. ‘Even this seems like it’s getting bigger.’ He’s got my cock out in an instant and I’m so horny without my girl friend, I’m at full mast with two tugs. He puts my hand on his crotch and he’s pretty big and he’s not even stiff. He pushes me down and hauls it out. It’s the biggest I’d ever seen, besides mine. I’m so delirious with lust by then I want to suck his cock just to feel it get hard inside of me.

“’Line up your mouth with your throat, Cal,’ he tilts my head and stuffs my throat with his rubbery cock. I cough, but it feels good sliding down my throat. It’s the other side of the coin from getting blown, and it makes me hot knowing I’m taking his whole bat down because it makes me think what it would feel like to get my big cock swallowed. My girl could barely get the head in her mouth.

“He pulls out, though. Pulls my pants down to my ankles and bends me over his desk. He tugs my cock down between my legs and slurps it up. I don’t need to think about what it might feel like. I start jerking and squirting the minute he reaches the root. He yanks the base with his hand then to drain me as he aims my squirts into his open mouth. Then he slurps the whole cum coated length of it as it gets even harder. He’s worked a few fingers inside my anus by then, and I realize I’m about to lose my cherry.

“He’s not particularly gentle about it, either. He just rams inside me, but even though I’d always thought getting fucked would hurt, it didn’t hurt me at all, and once he started pushing in and out it started to feel real good. He kept playing with my cock and eventually I shot again, just as he was cumming inside of me.

“And that began my life as a muscle bottom. It seemed like I just couldn’t get enough of getting fucked. I met a lot of guys at the Gay Student Union. My new friends took me out and I was an instant hit. I fucked around with new guys every week. Sometime four or five at a time!

“Meanwhile I was still getting bigger. By spring quarter I hit 250. I know that sitting there across the room looking at me you can tell how much bigger I am than that now, and you’re probably thinking, 250 is no big deal, but it was. I couldn’t get clothes in my size because I’m so short. I had to buy tall guys pants and roll up the legs and buy big guys shirts, only I could only buy short sleeve shirts.

“The sex dried up too. Even gay guys have their limits. Two fifty on a five foot five frame is freaky. And if they could get around that, there was my freaky dick. It was 14 inches, almost as long as my thigh.

“At the end of the spring quarter I began to get worried. What if it didn’t stop? What if I ended up some muscle bound Jabba the Hutt? So I went back to the health clinic. Ironically I ended up seeing the same intern who gave me my shot that fall.

“When he walked in the exam room he looked at me and smiled slyly, like he was enjoying a private joke. I told him my problem. He scribbled notes in my file. Then he asked me to disrobe so he could examine me. As I unbuttoned my shirt his eyes bulged and he must have lost it a little because I could hear him make a low whistling sound. When I stepped out of my underwear and my big, fat floppy dick came into view I heard him swallow.

“As he listened to my heart with his stethoscope, the front of his pants tented a bit and his breathing grew irregular. I wondered whether he could even concentrate on hearing my lungs and heart beat. It seemed like the exam was just a rouse to keep me undressed. He tapped my knees with the little rubber mallet to check my reflexes. He felt my glands. But when he put his finger under my scrotum and told me to cough, well, I couldn’t help myself. He was really handsome. My giant dick started to stretch and straighten and in a few heart beats it was at full mast. It didn’t help that it had been several weeks since I’d had a sex partner.

“He wrapped his hand around it and tugged a little. ‘I can see this reflex is fine too,’ he said with a touch of humor to break the tension between us. I told him it worked too well, and that was another part of my problem. He looked me in the eyes, stoically, staring. I wanted him to go down on me, but he didn’t. He just started working it with his hand. Then with both hands, as he locked eyes with me and my mouth went slack. Eventually I let loose a fountain of cum. He wiped me clean with paper towels and told me to get dressed.

“He said he thought it was the shot he gave me last fall. He didn’t say much about how it could have had the effect it had or why, but he said I wasn’t the first guy it had had this effect on. He’d started seeing other guys come back a few months ago.

“I asked him what I could do. He said enjoy it. He said he planned to. I thought he meant with his patients, but I guess from our meeting last week that he meant he was trying it on himself.

“I was supposed to go home and stay with my parents last summer, but instead I hitch-hiked around the country. I visited New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Miami. Some of the guys I met steered me towards some other guys who made movies. I made some money that way.

“By the end of the summer I had reached my current weight, two ninety-four. Arms twenty-eight, chest sixty, and legs thirty-six. Dick…well…let’s just say it’s kept pace.

“You guys know the rest – how we were invited to the meeting last week – told we’d been used as guinea pigs by the Doc, and decided to form this support group.”

One Hundred and One: Lone