Chapter 6: Chapter 6
The three men came to consciousness sprawled on the floor in the back room, a tangle of gleaming limbs. The sticky evidence of their frenzy was gone, absorbed as if by some thirsty sponge, leaving their skin clean and radiant, glowing with a soft, internal light like polished marble under the room's single bulb. Eddie let out a low, disbelieving giggle.
“Holy shit,” he breathed, his voice deeper, clearer. “I did not see gay sex in my future, gentlemen. But fuck me… that was… fucking awesome.” He looked at Steve and Andy with pure, unadulterated gratitude. “Thank you.”
Andy sat up, his wrestler’s body moving with a new, fluid grace. He grinned. “You got a decent mirror in this place, Eddie?”
Eddie pushed himself up, feeling lighter, stronger. “Uh, yeah. Back by the fitting room. Next to the cosplay rack.”
Steve and Andy stood, their movements synchronized, and guided a still-dazed Eddie through the beaded curtain towards the back corner. The space was dark, hidden from the front windows by a tall rack of leather and latex costumes. A full-length mirror was fixed to the wall of a small changing cubicle.
They positioned Eddie in front of it.
For a moment, he just stared. Then a choked, wordless sound escaped his lips—a cross between a scream and a laugh.
The man in the reflection was him, but rewritten. He was still big, a powerful frame, but the softness was gone. His arms, once just thick, were now corded with defined muscle, not the massive trunks of Andy’s wrestling build, but sculpted and strong. His chest was a barrelled plane, pecs firm yet oddly voluptuous, capped with the same big, pink nipples that now seemed to sit prouder on the new landscape. His stomach was flat, hard. His legs were pillars of toned strength.
He turned, eyes wide.
His ass. It was full, round, a perfect shelf of muscle that jutted out prominently, bigger and more pronounced than either Steve’s or Andy’s. He reached back, kneading the firm flesh in disbelief.
Then he looked down. His cock, soft and thick, hung between his legs like a heavy piece of meat. It was different. Thicker, even, than Andy’s substantial girth, and as long as Steve’s—a true elephant’s trunk, dense with potential. He touched himself, feeling the velvety skin, and it began to swell rapidly in his hand, thickening and rising to an impossible hardness.
His hair was now a lush, dark curl, swept up into a neat coif, the sides short. His beard was full and neatly shaped, framing a stronger jaw. He blinked. He could see every speck of dust on the far comics shelf with crystal clarity. His glasses were gone.
“Fuck,” he whispered, turning again, watching the play of muscle in his back, the curve of his new ass. He couldn’t stop touching his cock, which was now fully erect, a veined, ruddy column of flesh. “Fuck me.”
Steve moved then, his own body humming with a need he now understood. He positioned himself in front of Eddie, facing the mirror, and braced his hands on either side of the cubicle frame. He could see their reflection: Eddie behind him, stunned and magnificently hard, and Andy watching, a hungry shadow in the background.
“Your turn,” Steve growled, his voice rough. He felt empty, needing to be filled, a vessel waiting for the potent, overflowing energy he sensed radiating from Eddie. “Give it to me.”
Eddie’s expression shifted from wonder to raw desire. He stepped closer, the head of his monstrous cock nestling against Steve’s exposed hole. It felt hot, like a brand. Eddie’s hands settled on Steve’s hips, his grip firm.
“I’ve never… not with a real…” Eddie muttered, almost to himself.
“I can take it,” Steve reassured, pushing back slightly. “Just have at it, big boy.”
Eddie laughed, a sound of pure, excited release, and pushed forward.
The feeling for Eddie was apocalyptic. The tight, slick heat of Steve’s body was nothing like cold, lifeless plastic. It was alive, clutching him, milking him as he sank inch by impossible inch into an unimaginable tightness. He saw his own face in the mirror, eyes wide with shock and pleasure. “Oh my god,” he grunted, his hips meeting Steve’s ass. He was buried to the hilt, a feeling so profound it short-circuited thought. He began to move, a slow, deep piston stroke.
For Steve, it was a stretching, burning fullness beyond anything he’d experienced. Andy was big, but Eddie was thicker, a devastating girth that rewrote his limits. The pain was a bright, sharp edge that melted almost instantly into a overwhelming pleasure, a sense of being perfectly, completely used. “Fuck yes,” Steve hissed, dropping his head, watching his own face contort in the mirror.
Andy watched, his own cock, which had softened only slightly, now hardening again to an aching stiffness. He understood his role, felt it in his blood. He moved behind Eddie, his hands gripping the new, rounded swell of Eddie’s ass. He spat into his palm, slicked himself, and lined up.
He pushed into Eddie’s hole in one smooth, firm motion.
Eddie cried out, a sharp, guttural sound, but didn’t stop fucking Steve. Instead, he pushed back, meeting Andy’s thrust, fucking himself on Andy’s cock as he fucked Steve. They found a brutal, three-way rhythm. Steve, impaled and shuddering. Eddie, in the middle, a conduit of animal pleasure. Andy, driving them all forward.
The sounds were filthy: the wet slap of skin, ragged breaths, choked curses. “Fuck, your ass is so big,” Andy grunted into Eddie’s ear, his hands digging into the abundant flesh.
“So fucking tight,” Eddie groaned back, his eyes glued to the mirror where he watched himself disappear into Steve. “Gonna… I can’t…”
It wasn’t a marathon. The circuit was complete, the connection formed, and the overload was immediate and mutual. Steve came first, untouched, his cock jerking and painting the cubicle wall with thick ropes as Eddie’s thrusts pushed him over. The clenching of Steve’s body around him tore Eddie’s orgasm from him. He shouted, burying himself deep, and his release was torrential, a flood of seed that filled Steve to overflowing.
The pulse of Eddie’s climax, the feel of that hot rush inside him, triggered Andy’s own. He held Eddie tight, hips stuttering, as he emptied himself into Eddie’s depths, completing the circle.
They slumped together, a sweating, trembling chain, still joined. The air reeked of sex and clean, male sweat.
Eddie was the first to speak, pulling out slowly. “I… I should be dead right now. Comatose. That’s… that’s a lot of cum. I feel… fucking incredible.” He looked at the mess dripping from Steve, at his own still-hard cock, slick with lube and seed. “What the hell is happening?”
Steve carefully disentangled himself, feeling full, replenished, powerful. “We need to get to a doctor’s appointment,” he said, his voice steady. “We’ve got questions too. But we’ll get answers.”
They cleaned up quickly with paper towels from the back room. As they redressed, the pull was magnetic. Eddie, buzzing with uncanny energy, kept reaching for them, brushing a hand over Andy’s arm, leaning in to smell Steve’s neck.
“Here,” Andy said, scribbling his and Steve’s numbers on a scrap of comic book backing board. “We’ll come back after. Answer everything. And if you want… you can come home with us.”
“Fuck yes I want,” Eddie said, his eyes alive. He grabbed them both, pulling them into a clumsy, three-way kiss. It was hungry, deep, tasting of each other. It felt essential. Steve was the one who broke it, placing a firm hand on both their chests.
“We have to go,” he said, though every fibre in his body screamed to stay, to start the cycle again right on the shop floor. “This appointment… it’s important. It’s about the treatment. It might explain all of this.”
Eddie nodded, reluctantly pulling on his shirt which now strained across his new chest. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Go. Get answers.” He looked at them, a transformed man in a den of fantasy, now living one. “Hurry back.”
They left him there, standing amidst the comics, a god carved from ordinary clay, watching them go with the dazed, hungry eyes of a newborn. The bell over the door jingled, and they stepped out into the afternoon sun, their bodies humming with shared secrets, racing against time to an appointment that now felt like the most important mission of their lives.
The ride to the Institute was a silent, charged bubble of shared energy. Steve drove, his newfound senses hyper-aware of every vibration of the engine, every shift of Andy’s muscular thigh beside him. The scent of their recent sex, of Eddie’s unique musk now layered onto their own, filled the car, a potent perfume that made Andy’s hand creep onto Steve’s leg, squeezing high on his inner thigh. Neither spoke. Words felt inadequate for the current humming through their veins.
The Institute appeared as nothing more than an avant-garde botanical conservatory tucked away in a quiet business park. Lush, towering walls of green ivy and flowering vines completely shrouded the structure. Steve pulled into a discreet lot where only a few other expensive, silent cars sat. The air here smelled impossibly clean, like ozone after a storm, with an undercurrent of rich, damp soil.
They approached a seamless wall of greenery. A sensor hidden among the ferns detected their presence, and a pair of broad automatic doors, crafted to look like weathered copper but moving with a hydraulic whisper, slid open. The transition was jarring. One step took them from natural sunlight into a vast, cathedral-like atrium of cool, polished stone and shimmering glass. The space soared several stories high, filled with actual, mature trees whose leaves brushed against interior balconies. Light fell in precise, ambient columns.
A man sat behind a long, minimalist desk of pale ash wood. He looked up, and the connection was instantaneous. He had the look—not the overly sculpted physique of a new host like Eddie, but a settled, formidable density. His eyes, a clear, piercing blue, scanned them with a familiarity that held no surprise. “Mr. Harrison. Mr. Johnson. Dr. Armitage is expecting you.” His voice was a smooth, calm baritone. “Right this way.”
He led them across the silent atrium, their footsteps echoing softly. Andy leaned close to Steve’s ear, his breath hot. “He’s like us,” he murmured, the hunger in his voice barely contained. Steve just nodded, feeling a strange mix of dread and exhilaration coiling in his gut. The receptionist opened a heavy, unmarked door, gesturing them inside.
The consultation room was an exercise in serene, understated luxury. Deep, comfortable chairs in dark grey fabric were arranged around a low table of the same pale wood. One entire wall was a live panorama of a misty mountain range, likely a hyper-realistic screen. The air was subtly scented with sandalwood. It felt calm, controlled, a stark contrast to the raw, messy passion of the comic shop floor.
They hadn’t sat for a full minute when another door slid open silently.
Dr. Armitage entered, and Steve’s breath caught. The man he remembered from his cancer consultations—a kind, slightly stooped figure with greying, curly black hair and dusty ebony skin stretched thinly over a slender frame—was gone. The man before them was an obsidian statue brought to life. He stood maybe six-foot-five, his body a masterpiece of powerful, elegant musculature, every plane defined beneath a tailored charcoal suit. His skin was now the color of polished onyx, flawless and glowing with vitality. His hair was a thick, black mane swept back from a strong, ageless face. His eyes held a profound, knowing depth.
“Steve,” the doctor said, his voice resonant, a rich bass that vibrated in the quiet room. “It’s good to finally see you… as you truly are.” He offered a small, flawless smile. “I prefer not to show this side of myself to outsiders. It complicates things.”
Andy was on his feet, his wrestler’s instincts making him tense before the sheer presence of the man. “We can do that?” he blurted out, his gaze raking over the doctor’s transformed body. “Change how we look? What else can we do?”
“All in good time, Andy,” Armitage said, gesturing for them to sit as he took a chair opposite. He moved with a panther’s grace. “First, I’d like to know about your transition. The Gift came to you through Steve?” He directed this question to Steve, his gaze penetrating.
Steve shifted, the memory of that first afternoon vivid. “It was the smell,” he said, his voice rough. “After I woke up… my body was different. Andy was helping me, was in my presence the whole time and then in the shower. He smelled me, and it… it did something to him. It didn’t feel like a choice. It just felt like the right thing to do. Necessary.” He glanced at Andy, who was watching the doctor with fierce intensity. “I didn’t know what I was doing. What it would do to him.”
The doctor nodded slowly, steepling his long, powerful fingers. “The pheromonal triggering is a common vector for transmission. It bypasses conscious resistance. And you, Andy? How have you taken to the change?”
Andy didn’t hesitate. “I’ve never felt better. The sex… fuck, it’s beyond anything.” He shook his head, a faint blush on his cheeks that had nothing to do with shame. “I didn’t think I was… into guys. But this… it’s different. It’s a need. We ran last night, miles, and it was easy. Our bodies… they change during it. Get better, stronger.”
“Excellent,” Dr. Armitage said, a genuine warmth entering his eyes. “That adaptive capability is a core function. You are both perfect candidates for Adonis.” He leaned forward slightly. “Have you passed the Gift on to anyone else?”
Steve exchanged a look with Andy. “Yeah. Today, actually. At the mall. A guy named Eddie. He runs a comic shop. He just… felt right.”
A flicker of approval crossed the doctor’s face. “Excellent instincts. I’d like to meet him at your next appointment.” He settled back. “You probably have many questions. Let me explain. Adonis is a laboratory-engineered symbiotic organism. It attaches to the male prostate, rewriting aspects of the host’s DNA. The primary drive is procreation, of a sort. It seeks to propagate itself through sexual contact between hosts.”
Andy’s brow furrowed. “So it’s like a virus?”
“It’s a symbiont,” Armitage corrected gently. “It elevates the host. You develop to your peak human potential, then surpass it. The extent is unique to each man. The adaptive physiques you’ve noticed during intercourse—that’s a basic expression of cellular plasticity. The organism survives and thrives on exchanged biological material. All fluids contain essential nutrients, absorbed through the skin or mucous membranes. Rectal insemination is the most potent delivery method, a direct infusion to the core of the symbiosis.”
Steve’s mind raced, connecting dots. “The… the loads. They’re huge.”
“A side effect of optimized production,” Armitage confirmed. “A biological imperative to ensure successful transfer and nourishment.” He stood then, his imposing frame casting a shadow. “Theoretical knowledge is one thing. Practical experience is another. True integration requires communion with more established hosts. It stabilizes your systems, teaches your bodies the full range of their potential.”
"What about human food and drink?" Steve asks, explaining the night before, after dinner with his wife, Andy's mom, and their need to masturbate, the quality of the semen seeming more like a biohazard.
"Alcohol. It does not sit well with the symbiont. It dulls it and poisons it. Thankfully you both listened to your instincts and expelled that individually. Consuming that type of excretion is also poisonous and continued exposure to either can eventually be deadly. I wasn't expecting you to start drinking so soon... my apologies. However, it is worth noting that what we refer to as a negative excretions are very powerful for humans who are not capable of hosting. It is like a drug, giving a brief boost of energy, heightened sexual libido and function and a more receptive mind. Useful if you get into trouble with non-hosts or as a gift for regular people to enjoy. But we ask that you not abuse it as it can be used as a form of mind control when administered consistently. The excretion must be captured and sealed immediately or it will, as you saw, dissipate." The two men nodded, taking the information in. "Now, onto something a little more upbeat..."
As if on cue, the door slid open again. A younger man entered, clearly another host. He was Asian, with a swimmer’s taut build and watchful eyes. He moved to stand beside Armitage’s chair, his intent clear.
“This is Lin,” Armitage said, his hand coming to rest on the small of Lin’s back. “We are both part of the original hosts and we have a gift for you.”
The words hung in the serene air, a promise that bypassed thought and went straight to the primal core Steve and Andy now shared. Lin’s hands went to the buttons of his own simple linen shirt. Dr. Armitage, with a slow, deliberate grace, shrugged his tailored jacket from his shoulders. The quiet snick of his belt buckle was unnaturally loud.
Andy and Steve watched, transfixed, as the two men undressed.
Lin’s body was all taut, wiry muscle. He looked fast, streamlined, a blade of a man. His cock was modest by host standards, a thick, resting curve against his thigh, but he was entirely unselfconscious next to Dr. Armitage, who by contrast was like something from a pornographic cartoon. The doctor’s cock reached halfway down his thigh, soft. The muscles of his body were etched from black marble, his skin completely hairless and nearly reflective in the room’s soft light.
“Do not be fooled by size,” Armitage said, his voice a quiet rumble. He let his trousers pool at his feet. “A host’s body will adapt. That includes growing to fit its receptacle.”
The doctor called Steve to him with a crook of his finger. Lin beckoned to Andy.
They approached, their shoes scuffing softly on the stone floor. They could feel pulses of energy flowing from the two naked men, a tangible thrum in the air that made their teeth hum and their new nerves sing. They felt soothed by it. Drawn. Receptive.
They both started to undress without asking, their movements jerky with need. Even the whisper of fabric sliding over their skin caused them to shiver in acute sexual excitement. Steve’s shirt caught on his watch. Andy just yanked, and a button popped, spinning across the floor. In seconds, they stood naked, their own cocks already iron-hard and weeping.
They fell to their knees in front of the men, their hands moving behind their backs in a silent, instinctual gesture of submission. Their mouths fell open, their tongues lolling out like eager dogs. The power of these two men struck awe into Steve and Andy, a dark thrill sparking through them as they enjoyed the sheer powerless hunger in front of these god-like creatures.
Dr. Armitage and Lin both exhaled at the same time, a synchronized release.
A stream of liquid erupted from their cocks, splashing over Steve and Andy’s upturned faces, their chests. It wasn’t piss, although the initial shock made them flinch. It was precum, but free-flowing like urine, a clear, slightly viscous libation that coated them. It was warm, carrying the distinct, musky scent of each elder host. Where it touched their skin, it tingled, a sensation like carbonation fizzing under their flesh, making them feel supercharged, their senses dialing up to a painful, exquisite sharpness.
As the flow lessened to a trickle, Steve and Andy instinctively lunged forward, taking the cocks into their mouths.
Lin and the doctor were efficient, pushing their cocks into the receptive channels without ceremony. Steve gagged immediately, the doctor’s monstrous girth stretching his lips to a white-ringed burn. He struggled, saliva dripping down his chin, but the doctor just placed a firm hand on the back of his bald head and pushed deeper. Steve’s throat bulged obscenely, showing the passage of the thick column.
Initially, Andy felt a twinge of frustration that he wasn’t getting to experience the doctor’s gigantic cock. He knew he could take it. Then he felt Lin’s cock begin to grow.
It swelled against his tongue, thickening, lengthening, a living engine of flesh expanding in the wet heat of his mouth. It didn’t stop. Andy’s jaw ached, then the ache was subsumed by a dizzying euphoria as the fucking length filled him, pressing deep into his gullet. Lin’s modest cock was gone, replaced by a behemoth, bigger than the doctor’s because Andy’s body signaled it could accommodate that much. Suddenly, Andy was thrilled, his own hips bucking empty air as he devoted himself to sucking Lin’s disproportionately large cock, moaning around the shaft.
Steve was already lost, a vessel being used. The doctor’s thrusts were shallow, brutal pistons, schlocking in and out of his slack mouth. He could just breathe through his nose, but couldn’t think, could only drink down the continuous, salty seep of pre-fluid and communion.
Andy soon entered a similar state of blissful oblivion.
“Enough,” Armitage said, his voice not raised but absolute. He withdrew from Steve’s mouth with a wet pop. Lin pulled his immense, glistening cock from Andy’s throat.
The two elder hosts guided their dazed pupils to the large, clean desk. With gentle, undeniable pressure, they bent Steve and Andy over its polished surface, chest to cool wood, their asses presented high. They were positioned facing each other, inches apart.
“Share,” Lin instructed, his voice a soft command.
Steve and Andy looked into each other’s hazy, need-filled eyes. They crashed together in a sloppy, desperate kiss. It was less a kiss than a mutual feeding, pouring streams of saliva mixed with the elders’ fluids into each other’s mouths. They swallowed greedily, the transfer igniting another layer of connection between them.
Behind them, they heard the slick sound of hands stroking heavy cocks. The broad, spongy head of Dr. Armitage’s monster nudged against Steve’s well-used hole. Lin’s engorged tip pressed at Andy’s entrance.
They pushed in simultaneously.
Steve saw Andy’s eyes fly wide as Lin filled him, a mirror of the overwhelming stretch he himself felt. There was no gentle breach. The elder hosts slid home in one continuous, devastating plunge, burying themselves to the root in their over-stretched, sloppy holes. The burn was immense, a glorious friction that fried higher thought.
This was not for lengthy sensuality. It was an efficient giving of power.
Armitage and Lin set a punishing, synchronized rhythm. Each deep drive smashed Steve and Andy’s faces together, their mouths meeting in wet, gasped kisses between ragged breaths. Saliva dripped from their lips onto the desk. The elders leaned over them, their own sweat beading and falling onto Steve and Andy’s backs. They drooled onto their spines, thick pools of saliva that they massaged into the skin with rough, kneading palms, just as Steve and Andy had done to Eddie. The spit sizzled where it touched, a catalytic enzyme that opened every pore, every nerve ending.
“Fuck… taking it… so deep,” Andy slurred against Steve’s mouth, his body jolting forward with every snap of Lin’s hips.
Steve could only grunt, the doctor’s colossal cock hitting a spot inside him that seemed to flash white behind his eyes. He was being remade from the inside out, his capacity rewritten with every thrust. The room dissolved into a haze of scent, sweat, and the brutal, rhythmic sound of flesh pounding flesh.
The build was alarmingly fast, a pressure cooker with no release valve. Steve felt his orgasm detonate first, a seismic event that ripped through his guts and made his cock pulse violently against the top of the desk, jetting cum in unseen ropes onto the polished surface, immediately beginning to absorb into his skin. The violent clenching of his channel triggered Armitage’s release.
The doctor shoved in deep and held, a guttural groan escaping him. Steve felt the hot, torrential flood fill him, a vast quantity that seemed to have no end, pumping into his depths until he felt distended, bloated with raw, liquid power.
Andy’ climax followed a second later, his own convulsions milking Lin’s gigantic cock. Lin’s release was a cascade, a seemingly endless geyser that Andy felt flooding his bowels, a hot, claiming rush that made his toes curl against the stone floor.
The elders withdrew slowly, their spent cocks glistening. Steve and Andy slumped against the desk, boneless, gasping. They were drenched in sweat and spit, their holes leaking thick, pearlescent streams onto their thighs and the floor below. The air was thick with the smell of sex and a sharper, cleaner ozone-like scent.
Dr. Armitage placed a heavy, warm hand on Steve’s heaving back. Lin did the same to Andy.
“The integration is complete,” Armitage said, his voice filled with a deep satisfaction. “Your symbiosis is now stable. You will find your control, your regenerative faculties, and your perceptual abilities significantly enhanced.” He paused, letting them swim back to coherence. “The Gift you carry is a responsibility. Use it to strengthen our network. To elevate.”
Andy slowly pushed himself up, turning to lean against the desk. He looked down at himself, at the mess, but felt only a profound, thrumming vitality. “What now?”
“Now,” Lin said, already pulling his clothes on with swift efficiency, “you live. You thrive. You find others, as you found Eddie. We will be in touch.”
Steve finally found his voice, rough and used. “My wife… Andy’s mom…”
“Will notice only that you are healthier, happier, more virile,” Armitage assured him, now fully dressed again, the impeccable doctor once more. “The symbiont guides you in concealment. It is a survival instinct.” He walked to the door, pausing. “Welcome to the next stage of human evolution, gentlemen. Do not waste it.”
He and Lin left, the door sighing shut behind them.
Silence returned to the room, broken only by their slowing breath and the soft, persistent drip of spent seed onto stone. They were alone, swimming in the aftermath, their bodies humming with a terrifying, exquisite new potential.