A Question of Identity

[Long Form Commission; sequel to this story here]

As Kenneth let the shower head blast away the scum and grime from his recent “workout” out on the gym floor, he massaged his temples, trying to get a grip. He kept having momentary moments of panic--the sense that something was horribly wrong--but each would fade like a camera flash. He looked down at his ripped body, rubbing suds over his lean physique and letting the hot water rinse his muscular body clean. The sight of his jacked body made his heart skip, but he took a deep breath, reassuring himself that he had always been built like this, from the moment he was old enough to have muscles.

He heard the grunt of the two massive men behind him. They had gone silent, and Kenneth had let himself imagine that they’d finally left him alone. But then he heard their mouths slurping. One of them growled from deep inside his massive chest.

Kenneth was shocked by how suddenly he was flanked by two massive walls of muscle once again. They moved with a speed that couldn’t be possible for men of their size. Clay and Derek pressed together, trapping Kenneth between their hulking pecs like a bug. He felt himself lifted off the ground, his face barely cresting the shelf of muscle. He glanced up to see the hulks kissing frantically, their mouths twisting voraciously. Kenneth could feel their big cocks throbbing below. When their two pythons finally fired off, the two mounds of rigid flesh finally relaxed, peeling apart. Kenneth collapsed to the ground and sighed, realizing he’d be showering off all over again now that he was coated with the giants’ hot spunk.

“So we’ve talked it over,” Clay said, twisting one of Derek’s nipples between his thick thumb and forefinger, “and we’re going to respect your decision to go back to teaching.”

“But that doesn’t mean we’re gonna like it,” Derek said breathily, licking his lips as Clay got another hand in on the action.

“On one condition.”

“Condition?” Kenneth asked, confused. It didn’t feel like much of a conversation when he knew these two freaks could squash him to a paste between their bodies without even trying.

Clay licked Derek’s lantern jaw slowly before pulling away to flash smoldering eyes at Kenneth. “We’re gonna need you at this gym regularly.”

“I’ll be here to workout every day,” Kenneth said.

“To fuck,” Derek added.

Kenneth felt a chill at the way these two man-mountains glared at him, like he was a lobster in a tank and it was dinnertime. His knees shook as the exhaustion of what these men had put him through finally hit him.

“I can’t do that every day!” Kenneth said. He’d meant to be resolute but it came out like a plea. “I mean, you guys’ll put me in the hospital.”

Clay stuck out a tongue and reached out to drag his beefy finger up the inside of Kenneth’s well-built leg, from ankle to inner thigh. He dragged it along the underside of Kenneth’s balls, making the professor shiver with delight.

“Four times a week you can handle,” Clay insisted.

“T-two,” Kenneth forced out, feeling his will dissolving under Clay’s touch. “I can do two.”

“Just agree to two,” Derek said to Clay as if Kenneth wasn’t even there. “We’ll just fuck him whenever we want anyway. What’s he gonna do, say no?”

“Two it is,” Kenneth said, hustling to his towel. As he hurriedly dressed, he heard the two brutes going at it again. He barreled out the door before they made him part of it as well.

Kenneth sat in his Silverado breathing deeply after what he’d just gone through. Even with two latherings, he could still smell the manly stink of the two musclebeasts--as well as his own masculine funk--and despite himself, he couldn’t help but close his eyes and breathe deeply, his cock stirring in his tight sweatpants.

“Gotta go back to my office,” he reminded himself, pausing for just a moment to readjust his junk. For a moment he felt uncomfortable--whose truck was this? What was he doing there? But the feeling faded. His phone lit up and he looked at it with annoyance. Who the fuck was messing with his routine like this?

“The fuck?” he growled when he saw the notice from his banking app about an overdraft. After a quick scroll through his transactions, he saw that his paycheck hadn’t been deposited. He wondered, for a moment, if those monsters had done something. Despite being massive men, they were also tech geeks. Maybe they’d hacked into his bank account, or messed with payroll at the university.

Kenneth tried to summon the nerve to storm back into the gym and demand they explain what was up, but the way his dick twitched at the thought of seeing them again, he decided to maybe try a different avenue. “I guess I shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” he told himself--reassuring himself that he was being rational, and not intimidated by the 500 pound men.

There was a small crowd in the HR office’s lobby, so Kenneth strutted up to the counter and snatched a ticket. He gazed around with disdain at the other faculty members. It was in campus settings like this that Kenneth felt most out of place. He glanced over at a chubby bearded English lecturer in a blazer, and a scrawny philosophy grad adjunct in a turtleneck. Filling out his tight jeans and his skin-tight t-shirt like an action hero, Kenneth could sense the others edging away from him. Most probably thought he was a student, but were too intimidated to say anything.

Meanwhile, the guy behind the counter was pretty. He wasn’t as well-built as Kenneth, but he certainly knew his way around a gym. Had Kenneth seen him on leg day, he would have asked him for a spot, asked him about his gear program and recommended they hit a heavy back day together. His nametag read “Crispin” and Kenneth wondered if throwing some pheromones and flexing some muscle in the blonde quarterback’s direction could speed things up.

“So, I have to say,” Kenneth said, approaching the counter, “that I’m plenty busy today. My issue’s pretty cut and dry,” he said, putting both hands on the counter and making his pecs bounce a little. “You think we could hurry things up, Crispin?” Kenneth asked. He could sense the annoyance with the others in the room at Crispin’s desire to cut the line, but knew none of the others had the stones to say anything about it.

Crispin smiled, obviously glancing down at Kenneth’s flexed muscle mass straining the limits of his t-shirt before readjusting his posture. “Well, that all depends,” Crispin said with a flick of his eyebrows. “What exactly is your issue, Mr…?”

Kenneth smiled, but as he opened his mouth to respond, a white light swallowed up everything around him. He had forgotten about these mysterious flashes--how could he have forgotten? He’d been dealing with them all day!--but this one felt different. He felt like he was floating, or falling, in a great white void. He heard his voice echoing around him thousands of times. He got a glimpse, off in the distance, of another Kenneth, a skinny little twink, shaking his ass for a big beefy leatherbound bear named Crispin. Suddenly those two were gone and he saw another possibility: he was a ripped Merman, muscles flexing as he twitched his fin to stay afloat, and Crispin was a hulking Shark-man hybrid. Another flash and Kenneth felt tiny, standing on the calloused palm of a fifty-foot tall, one-eyed Crispin.

In a moment, the myriad possibilities of Kenneth and Crispin vanished. Kenneth glanced down at himself, relieved to see he hadn’t changed. But the man behind the counter was staring directly into Kenneth’s eyes--seated. Kenneth blinked as he took stock of how big this guy had to be. Crispin’s blonde hair, square jaw and blue eyes were the same, but now he had a long bushy beard, wide shoulders and a shirt unbuttoned to the top of his abdomen. Kenneth’s mouth went dry as he saw a set of pecs that could only have been built by pushing 4 plates for reps.

Kenneth felt a shiver down his neck as he took in just how much bigger Crispin was. Crispin pecked some keys on his keyboard before running a hand through his hair--a casual motion that revealed the massive thickness of Crispin’s arm, from massive hanging triceps to mountainous biceps, like a sprinter’s quad. Kenneth immediately imagining this burly man grabbing an oak tree by the trunk and tearing it out of the earth before tossing it over his shoulder and hauling it away.

“Well, it appears we have an identity issue here,” Crispin said in a deep rumble of a voice. Kenneth’s mouth was too dry to say anything. He blushed as Crispin took note of his speechlessness and raised an eyebrow at him. “We had a little bit of a system breach, security-wise. Our IT guys are working on it. So once we can establish your identity, the funds will automatically be deposited in your account.”

“H-how do I…” Kenneth stammered, taking in the size of Crispin’s quads as the pro-bodybuilder-built man rose from the chair.

“Prove your identity? Easy test,” Crispin said, thumbing at a door behind him. “I’ll have to go back there with you, however,” he said. He flipped over a sign that said, “Back in 15 minutes!” He spun the little plastic dial on the clock to 45 minutes and boomed, “Could be longer!” to the irritated--but much too intimidated to say anything--men in the waiting room.

Kenneth did as he was told, silently berating himself for his wordless obedience to this brute. He could have sworn Crispin had been smaller when he’d walked in. Now he felt like a little pup next to a pit bull.

Crispin beckoned Kenneth into a darkened office, motioning toward a padded stool next to a copier machine. “I think this will give us the privacy we need here.”

Kenneth glanced around. There was no computer, no iPad, no technology at all aside from the copier machine; just a lot of filing cabinets.

“So, what’s the test--”

With one hand, Crispin pressed his hands together and hit a most muscular pose. The tight shirt split open at the sides. Kenneth’s eyes went wide at the expanse of lat-meat that erupted from the shredded material.

“Oops,” Crispin said, reaching up with one thick hand and grabbing a handful of his shirt. He tore it off like he was peeling a banana, and a moment later he was shirtless. With shocking speed, he leaned forward. Before Kenneth could react, a wall of pec-meat enveloped his face. He hadn’t taken a breath before warm, rock-solid flesh pressed against him, smothering him.

“So this is the ID test,” Crispin said, flexing his two massive chest pillows. Kenneth could barely breathe, choking on the heat of the mass pressed against him, unable to open his mouth without swallowing some of Crispin’s sweat. “You do your best to worship this big-ass body of mine, and after you’re done, I’ll have a good sense as to whether or not you’re who you say you are.” Crispin flexed again and Kenneth felt himself pressed against the wall. He stood up and Kenneth slid up the wall, feeling like a bug.

Kenneth flailed his arms, but only succeeded in grabbing on to Crispin’s titanic arms. He tried to grab hold, but Crispin effortlessly flexed Kenneth’s hands apart. Just when Kenneth thought he would pass out, Crispin pinned Kenneth’s hands against the wall and pulled back to give the kinesiology professor a chance to breathe.

“H-holy… fuck…” Kenneth gasped, shocked at how much power this huge man had over him. He had a flash of memory--of, earlier in the day, trying to intimidate Crispin into doing what he wanted--but that seemed ridiculous now.

“You like these guns?” Crispin said, hitting a double biceps flex that could have won the Olympia. Kenneth’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “C’mon, bro, feel them! I don’t curl 120 pound dumbbells just to make it hard to buy shirts! Appreciate my hard work!”

Kenneth did as he was told, rubbing his fingers over the mounds of hard flesh as they bounced and contorted under his grip. The feeling of those fuel-line veins as his fingertips passed over them made Kenneth want to blow his load right there.

“I’m guessing you’re probably pretty close anyway,” Crispin said, leaning in and rubbing his thick beard up and down Kenneth’s neck; the sensation drove Kenneth mad. “But let me give you a little help.” Crispin leaned in, flexing his abdomen and rubbing his ridged stomach up and down Kenneth’s hard cock. Kenneth gasped for air, gulping in a lungful of Crispin’s manly sweat. He felt like he was losing himself as his hands squeezed--and were broken apart by--Crispin’s bouncing guns. The musky beard on his upper chest and neck, along with Crispin’s granite 8-pack rubbing against his hard cock, made Kenneth feel like he was strapped to a rocket, helplessly launching off the planet.

When Kenneth finally came, Crispin purred, “That’s a good man. Yeah, fire that fucking load.” He licked along Kenneth’s jaw and then pulled the professor into a kiss while Kenneth’s dick continued to drool and twitch between them.

“Sadly,” Crispin said as Kenneth’s body began to slacken, “I wasn’t able to establish your identity from just that. Oh, wait.” Crispin ran two fingers along his cum-spattered abs, then raised them to his lips. He swallowed them deeply, groaned pleasantly, then licked along Kenneth’s forehead. “Nope, still inconclusive. We’ll need to talk to my superior about this one.”

Kenneth leaned against the wall, gasping, as Crispin walked to the door, still shirtless. He opened the door and called out into the hallway without breaking eye contact with the barely-able-to-stand Kenneth.

“Hey Mr. Grady, I’m gonna need your help in here,” Crispin shouted. He bounced his eyebrows.

Kenneth’s eyes sank to his own cum-stained attire when it happened again--the flash of white light, consuming everything. He saw himself as an ameoba, being devoured by a multi-celled Crispin. He saw himself as a building-sized titan, staring into the sky at a Celestial-sized Crispin who juggled suns in his hand. A moment later he was a French bulldog and Crispin was a pitbull sniffing his crotch.

Then they were back in the office again. As the light faded, Kenneth was grateful he hadn’t been dragged into the multitude of realities he’d seen in the light--but Crispin had been replaced. The once 300 pound man was now six inches and nearly a hundred pounds heavier. His abs were still painted with Kenneth’s seed. While his pants had grown along with his huge frame, they seemed to be struggling to contain his massive form. As he swung one redwood-sized quad around the other, almost walking with a waddle, the seams began to split. Crispin’s dick burst through the crotch of his pants like a flood shattering through a dam. Kenneth’s eyes went wide as a cock the size of his arm flopped out, swinging against each of his quads alternately as he moved across the floor.

At this size, Crispin could easy curl the World’s Strongest Man competitors--possibly as a warm-up weight. He was nearly the size of Derek and Clay now! He felt a rhythmic rumbling in the floor and didn’t realize it was an actual human walking until another man, the same size as Crispin, turned sideways to squeeze through the door.

The size of this man’s suit blew Kenneth’s mind. It had to be as big as a tent, and yet it still fit his form snugly, every bulging muscle twitching with the slightest movement. Kenneth couldn’t believe he was about to be dominated by two enormous men for the second time that day.

“Mr. Grady, we’re having trouble establishing this guy’s identity,” Crispin said, casually pumping his massive hose with his huge fist.

Grady stood over Kenneth, casting a massive shadow over the intimidated professor. He stroked his broad chin, and licked his lips. He had short black hair and a little spit-curl above dark eyebrows. “Well, who do you CLAIM to be?” Grady said. He gestured toward Kenneth causing a dozen sleeve fibers to audibly shred.

“K-Kenneth Connors,” Kenneth said, his knees wobbling both from his recent orgasm and the notion of what these two brutes were going to do with him. “I-I’m a p-professor, of… ki-kines… ki-ki-ki…” Damn, his tongue wouldn’t work properly!

“You trying to say,” Grady said, grabbing Kenneth under the shoulders and hoisting him off the ground, holding him outright. Kenneth’s feet dangled above the floor. “...that you teach MUSCLES?”

The two massive men laughed, exchanging a couple high-fives that sounded like thunderclaps. Grady reached down and dug his pinky into the collar of Kenneth’s shirt, yanking it downward with enough force to tear it off. Then he grabbed at Kenneth’s belt and tore that off as well.

“Kick off your shoes or we can’t verify your identity,” Crispin ordered. Kenneth did as he was told, suddenly finding himself naked between two giant men in this HR office.

“Well, according to this file over here,” Crispin said, thumbing through a folder he’d pulled out of a drawer, “says that you’re 240 pounds.”

“THIS little guy?” Grady said; Kenneth felt a little shamed, especially since, in any normal circumstances, he was still a really big man. “He’s like a little filet. You mind if we call you Filet until we verify your identity? Cuz you’re a cute little cut of meat.”

Crispin suddenly swooped a hand under Kenneth’s knees, lifting him right off the ground. He grasped Kenneth’s shoulders with the other hand. Suddenly Kenneth found himself getting curled like a barbell. Crispin chuckled; Kenneth felt the sound of the big man’s laughter in his teeth.

“What do you think? He weigh 240?” Grady said, dragging a pinky up and down Kenneth’s naked ass crack.

“I think maybe closer to 220?” Kenneth said. “I dunno, I’m a little surprised he’s not more excited.” He nodded at Kenneth’s dick, flopping back and forth with each rep. “Before you got in here he came in like fifteen seconds! Can’t handle all this muscle. Maybe it’s too intimidating?”

“You ever seen pecs--” Grady pressed his hands together and flexed, causing a wall of muscle to rise up beneath his chin. “--like THESE?”

“There he goes!” Crispin said, still curling. Kenneth’s dick had hardened up, now a solid rod tilting with each rep. “Let’s see if we can’t…” Crispin curled him up, aiming Kenneth’s hard cock for his mouth. The muscular man swallowed Kenneth without flinching.

“What about a back… like this…” Grady said, turning around and hitting a lat spread that split his suit down the spine. Kenneth was blown away by the expanse of muscles--and while Crispin held him aloft, deeply sucking his dick, he felt himself spinning out of control again.

“I dunno, I can usually curl 240 pounds with one arm,” Crispin said, his fingers curled around Kenneth’s neck. At the apex of each rep, Crispin slurped deeply on Kenneth’s cock, making the kinesiology professor’s eyes roll into the back of his head. He moaned as he watched Grady hit a sleeve-splitting double bi just behind Crispin.

“Fuck,” Kenneth moaned, biting his lip, the blood rushing to his head, then out again, as Crispin continued curling him like he was a little dumbbell.

He couldn’t handle too much more of Crispin’s mouth latching on to Kenneth’s dick before he felt the pressure building inside him once again. He moaned loudly as he felt himself about to cum again. He couldn’t do anything to prevent it as he unloaded another geyser, this time into Crispin’s mouth.

The white light hit just before the relief of the afterglow set in. Once again, Kenneth found himself lost in a flood of alternate versions of himself, struggling to not get swept away by the current. For an instant they were all cavemen. Then they were bees, buzzing around a hive. Then Kenneth felt the light fade. He looked down and saw his body as it had been before the last flash; still naked, but the same size.

As he looked up, however, his knees went weak. Crispin and Grady were ENORMOUS, each far too big to get through the doors, their heads butting up against the ceiling. Their bodies were bloated with massive, rock-hard muscles. Each of them looked bigger than the combined mass of their bodies before the last flash. Kenneth’s gut went cold as he saw their massive cocks, each the size of his own quad, flopping down over enormous balls.

“Oh fuck… I’m fucked…” he said, nearly breathless. Grady just chuckled, a rumble like a passing train.

The room had changed as well, now padded like a gym with a network of thick bars running along the ceiling (which had bumped up about ten feet since the flash). Grady leapt up, grabbing the bars overhead and doing a few pullups. Watching that much mass bob up and down nearly made Kenneth’s eyes pop out of his head. He wiped the drool off his own chin, marveling at the network of massive back muscles pulsing with each rep. In comparison to the rest of his body, Grady’s head looked tiny.

“We’ll need one final test to establish your identity,” Crispin said, plucking Kenneth off the ground like he was a rag doll. “Jesus, you don’t weigh a damned thing! Grady, after we get this guy’s issue squared away, we should start feeding him and bringing him to the gym with us.”

Grady just grunted in response. Kenneth imagined showing up to the gym, bouncing on Crispin’s enormous delts. Even Clay and Derek would be dwarfed by these beasts, only looking them in the tops of their gigantic,bouncing chests!

“I’m ready!” Grady said, holding his bulk at the apex of the pullup, lifting his legs until they were parallel to the ground. Crispin held Kenneth’s hands in one fist, his feet in the other, positioning the professor so that his throbbing cock was aimed right at Grady’s mountainous glutes.

As Crispin rammed Kenneth in, the professor felt like he was smashing into a slab of granite--but Grady’s hot hole welcomed Kenneth’s dick in, suddenly gripping him tightly once he’d plunged in to the hilt. Grady moaned, a sheen of sweat forming along his body. Kenneth found himself holding onto Grady’s nude, unfathomably muscular form for dear life. When the gigantic glutes held him in place, Kenneth realized he had better perform, or risk plummeting to the padded floor below.

As soon as Kenneth started ramming that rhinocerous-sized ass, Grady’s body started pouring sweat like a hot rain. Kenneth panicked as the phenomenal form became too slippery, but still Grady’s glutes held Kenneth in place. Kenneth’s eyes went wide as he felt Grady’s ass clenching, undulating. Kenneth couldn’t believe it: he didn’t need to fuck this ass. He had so much control, this giant beast was milking him!

When Kenneth finally blew, he heard the splash of Grady’s appropriately sized load splattering against the wall. Suddenly Kenneth found himself falling. He flailed in midair before Crispin easily grabbed him and placed him on the ground.

Grady slowly lowered himself to the floor, his eyes lazy-lidded from the overwhelming force of his recent orgasm. He scooped some cum, still drooling from his slowly deflating hose, and held his big fist in front of Kenneth’s mouth, feeding it to him. Kenneth slurped at the fingers, fascinated that this monster’s hands had fingers that were more muscular than any part of Kenneth’s own body.

“Well, that’s him,” Grady said as Crispin lowered Kenneth to the floor.

“Damned right it is,” Crispin said, holding up Kenneth and slurping the last of Kenneth’s spent seed from his sensitive dick. Kenneth moaned twitched, still wiped from the ordeal. Crispin finally set him back on the floor.

“There’s sweatsuits in the closet over there,” Grady said as the two musclefreaks embraced, Grady slipping a huge thumb between Crispin’s clenching glutes.

Kenneth tried not to watch as he walked unsteadily to the closet. When he found a pair of sweats that fit, he headed for the door while putting it on, still unable to completely pull his gaze from the two giant beasts.

“Send in the next guy waiting,” Grady ordered. As the door opened up, a hot fog of sexual stink rolled over the HR department’s front office.