Sunday, October 14, 2012

The Tragic Tale of Dr. Jekyll - Chapter 5

I would like to say that after being tricked into drinking Hyde’s serum once I set an example for Hyde and refused any further doses. I would like to say that when I woke the evening of the following day, after spending the whole prior night fucking with Hyde and Blake and the daylight hours sleeping after our super human bodies finally tired and slipped into exhausted sleep, I gathered my torn and rumpled clothing from the floor and went home so ashamed of my behavior that I was never again tempted to partake. But that is not what happened. I didn’t even last 24 hours.

Sticky with a soup of our shared semen and sweat I woke in the early afternoon, crawled over Jerome’s sleeping body next to me and walked to the bathroom. As I walked past the study I saw Blake, much as he had looked when I first met him the night before, thin but handsome, only nude and disheveled, half a boner poking out in front of him as he rifled through the liquor cabinet in Jerome’s study. When he heard my footsteps he stopped and looked at me briefly, then resumed his hunt, his face twisted in desperation.

His half boner stirred my cock into a full one as I watched him push bottles of ordinary alcohol out of his way in search of the blue liquid.

“Try the desk drawer,” I told him, “lower drawer on the left.”

Blake looked at me with the sour expression of a man hung over from a bender and desperate for his next drink, but he followed my directions. He found what he was looking for.

I held his arm still as he lifted it from the drawer. “You don’t need this stuff. None of us does. You’re young, handsome. I suspect you can have anyone you want. It’s probably been that way for you all your adult life.”

What I told him was right, but I lacked the conviction of my words. I will never know whether that bled through in my tone and weakened my argument, or whether Blake was too far-gone already to be swayed. Blake poured a healthy swig of Jerome’s fantastic formula into one of the crystal old fashioned’s that Jerome kept on the glass shelves of the study’s wet bar. He drank it all in one gulp, drew a deep breath, closed his eyes and grinned lasciviously.

Nude, the change in Blake’s body was visible immediately. Veins swelled and wriggled like night crawlers under his skin. His half boner went to solid rock and pointed to the ceiling, and muscles that had swelled once to unbelievable proportions found it that much easier to grow to their previous size in record time.

Having now experienced what Blake was feeling made me even more excited than I had been before when I watched Jerome transform. My formidable male weapon was a throbbing bone, ejecting dribs of pre-cum involuntarily, even as I tried to restrain myself from being drawn in to the scene again.

Blake poured another shot and held it out to me. I shook my head and stepped back. He laughed in that deep baritone we all shared as maniacal monsters of muscle.

“Resistance is futile, Edward. If you don’t give in to your desire, I can make you. I’m so much stronger than you.”

He stepped toward me with that rolling gait so typical of the extremely muscular man, his thickly veined cock aiming right at my weak-willed flesh. I stepped back, but for every two steps forward he took, I only took one backward. Soon he was an inch from my face, his donkey dong sandwiched between our chests, mashing against my trembling dick. He opened his mouth and pulled my face to his.

Perhaps because Jerome/Hyde had never truly focused on the kiss, I had never learned the oral power of men transformed by his serum. But Blake was not disposed to dominate purely by his dick. He knew the full effect of his hyper masculinity and relished the opportunity to wear down my defenses, slowly, insistently and finally.

As our mouths locked and our tongues tangled, Blake twisted his hand around the head of my cock, using my pre cum as lube, and making me erupt between us.

When he released me I stumbled back, barely able to stand.

“Won’t you join me now, Edward. I need a playmate with stamina if I’m to enjoy my unquenchable lust.”

Having cum so soon and so violently hadn’t dulled my lust one bit, but it had at least given me enough momentary physical satisfaction to strengthen my resolve to resist drinking the formula.

“No, Blake. We aren’t meant for this. This isn’t real.”

“Oh, this is very real, Edward, even if it is only a temporary reality,” Blake said, as he took advantage of my post orgasmic weakness to force me to my knees. “Let me show you how real it is.” Blake guided my mouth to the fist sized head of his donkey dick and I obediently opened to swallow the first few inches.

All of my life I had venerated masculinity. Even as a small boy, before there was an overtly sexual aspect to my interest, I craved the sight of big, hairy men. The manifestation of the ultimate in masculinity was impossible to resist. I devoured Blake’s cock with complete abandon, losing all of my identity as I worshiped his giant cock and the powerful body it was attached to.

For his part, Blake relished his dominance over the man who, last night, had dominated him so completely in the same way. Eventually Blake grew impatient with me, grabbed me by the back of my head and force fucked my face while his other hand cradled my throat and felt his cock sliding in and out of my flesh.

With a roar that seemed to make the walls shake, Blake ejaculated inside me and all over me.

This time it was Blake who stumbled backward, spent and weary, while I stood and strode over to the desk where the glass of formula sat and poured it down my throat, defeated.

1 comment:

Brahms said...

Thanks for another great chapter. My only complaint is that it is too short! And I'm still waiting to find out if the "tragic" in the title is going to be literal or ironic.

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