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I don't know about this, Al. It don't feel right.

That's all Angel Dust had to say to put a stop to what was going on, or at least to make it slow down. The words had passed through his head on repeat ever since Alastor brought up the deal, and yet even the obstreperous Angel could not bring himself to stand up to the Radio Demon. Instead he remained relatively quiet, seated back in the armchair next to the fire while he stroked the snoozing Fat Nuggets in his lap. His gaze was on the rug beneath his feet, halfway between his crossed legs and the hellacious overlord sitting across from him not a stone's throw away. He did not want to seem standoffish- Alastor was not the demon you wanted to offend -but at the same time he could not bring himself to look him in the eyes for an extended amount of time.

Alastor expected as much, thus he did not confront the spider. Indeed, he'd come to adore such trembling reverence that folk across hell gave him almost universally. It did not take long to earn that from Angel. In the short time they had come to know each other Angel had seen a portion of what Alastorhepect. Alastor was patient in waiting for Angel's response. Be it a yes or no, Alastor fully anticipated getting what he wanted. That would take some time, however, as Angel continued pondering the deal while petting his precious piggy.

The impetus was on Angel to speak; he felt as much hanging on him like a leadened blanket. There was only the soft purr of Fat Nuggets and the crackling fire to hold at bay absolute quiet. Normally the chatty type who would crack a snappy quip at a moment's notice, he had to force himself to look up at Alastor and speak. "It's tempting, Al. I'll give you that." That's all he had to say, if just to break the agonizing silence.

Alastor's toothy, yellow smile deepened. Progress. "I know it is. That's why I brought it forward to you, my dear," he said in a staticy, vaudevillian voice. "I'm just presenting what I think will be a very beneficial trade for the both of us, wouldn't it?"

"I mean, yeah. It sure as fuck would. Been trying to get that sleazy, power-hungry cock sucka off my back ever since I signed with 'em." He framed it as some kind of inconvenience, wildly downplaying the possessive, abusive relationship with Valentino, the overlord who owned him. A life free of the infamous pimp magnate seemed too good to be true, though it played through his mind every night.

"And you can at last. Just a swipe of the quill and you'll never so much as hear from that dastardly fiend ever again. It'll be like he never existed. You know I won't let him anywhere near you, and in the same vein, you won't let anyone near me."

"Yeah, well, that's the thing I don't get. If you're such an all-powerful guy, exactly why do you need a bodyguard? Let alone one like me? If you can protect me from a guy like Valentino, then who in the fuck do you expect me to protect you from?"

Alastor laughed. "Well, you see, I'm not this 'all-powerful' demon you say I am." He laid a hand on his chest in a gesture of humility, one Angel did not buy for a second. "Yes, I am quite capable, but I cannot be everywhere at once. I am a busy man, and while I don't know any fellow brave and/or stupid enough to make an attempt on my soul, it's not a risk I'm willing to take. All it takes is one lucky idiot to strike down a man of power. My good friend Charles Guiteau will attest to that."

Angel didn't know who that was, nor did he care to ask.

"You'll be a deterrent more than anything, most of all to Valentino and to any of his lackeys. He's a wanton hedonist, yes, but he's not stupid. He knows not to trifle with the likes of me, no matter how badly this deal upsets him. He isn't stupid."

Angel looked away bitterly. "No, he sure isn't."

"I have both of our safeties in mind, dear Angel. Mainly mine, admittedly, but I would not put yours into jeopardy under any circumstance. We're already business associates in this hotel," he said with an upwards gesture towards everything around them. "We're in this together, as are Charlie and the others."

"Speaking of Charlie, does she know about this?"

"I've brought it up to her, yes, Vagatha too. They're aware of your... strained partnership with Valentino. They're more than open to you making this decision if you think it benefits you, which the three of us agree that it will."

Was Angel about to take his word on that? If he got up and asked Charlie if Alastor had ever talked to her, would she say yes? Alastor smiled at him in a way that challenged him to go and see for himself. He knew that if he did and Charlie confirmed what Alastor had said then he would look like a fool. Furthermore, he didn't want to disturb Fat Nuggets' nap.

"Alright," he said finally.

The Radio Demon's eyes lit up. "Alright?"

"Yeah, alright, as in we've got a deal." Angel crossed his upper arms in front of his chest. "I just better not get any shit from Valentino from this. Ever. At all."

"Oh, of course not!" Alastor all but boomed as he stood up from his chair, hands clapped together. "You'll be untouchable! At least from that fiend. Your days of worry and abuse are over, though now your fealty will be to me."

Angel tried not to roll his eyes. "You make it sound so much better."

"Oh, don't be so dismissive. Let us strike this deal and I'll show you how much easier life can be." He grabbed his microphone staff from where it leaned up against his chair. He strode to the center of the rug, that innocuous-looking weapon held against his back along with his forearms. Suddenly there was a soft poof beside him as a rolled up parchment materialized out of thin air. It unraveled to reveal a wall of fine script. At the bottom was a large X and a signature line. "If you could just provide your John Hancock, we'll shake on it and get things rolling."

"Again with the names. Who the fuck is John Hancock?"

Alastor's eyelids dropped with bemusement. "Don't worry about it. I'll just need your signature."

"Oh, alright." Could've just said that the first time, weirdo. Angel cradled Fat Nuggets into his arms carefully so as not to wake him. He carried him over to a nearby doggy bed and laid him down in it. The piggy snorted softly, before readjusting his stumpy legs beneath him so that he could resume his nap. Angel came in front of Alastor. "Got a pen?"

"Certainly." Another poof and a fountain pen appeared floating next to the parchment.

Angel took them both and began reading. There wasn't an astronomical load of text, but still more than he was comfortable with reading in just one sitting. A vast majority of it was in legalese, a language he was nowhere near fluent in. The parts he could parse were the important bits: Dust will hereby act as Alastor's bodyguard, providing safety and protection under all circumstances. All other claims of ownership regarding Dust are hereby negated and void.

Angel read that latter line over and over. Negated and void. Negated and void. That cock sucker won't be able to lay a finger on me ever again. His grip on the pen tightened. He did not see Alastor on the other side of the parchment, grinning madly, his own clenched fists wrenching his gloves on the staff. A deep inhale swept through Angel's nostrils before he finally pressed the pen tip to the paper and wrote his name. It had been a while since he had written his signature on anything; doing so in hell almost never led to anything good, but for the very first time it felt like it would. The pen wasn't even off the paper before it all vanished in another poof, startling him. Waiting behind it was Alastor splitting a smug smile.

"Wise choice, my dear," he said in a low voice.

"Yeah, I hope so."

"No need for hope when everything you can hope for is already here." Alastor held his hand out. "Now let's shake on it. Signatures are fine and dandy, but nothing beats a gentlemanly shake."

There might as well have been an electric buzzer attached to his palm, Alastor looked at it with so much suspicion. But the ink was already on the paper. Nothing he could do to turn back now. In a minor show of defiance, he shook Alastor's hand with his bottom hand, the less dominant one. Alastor's grip was loose and leathery. Angel chilled to think what the skin beneath must have felt like. He did not recognize the sensation as the Radio Demon's magic taking hold of him.

When they let go he had to stop himself from wiping his palm on his pants. "So, uh... When will Valentino find out about this?"

"Well, if the contract was any good, which I'm certain it was, he'll have felt it the moment you finished signing."

Angel's heart dropped. "So he knows now? Aw, shit, Al..."

"Ah, ah. Don't fret. I already told you there's not a single thing he can do to hurt you now. He can stomp and fume all he wants. He won't do anything now that you belong to me. Besides, how many harlots does he have working for him? Surely he can replace you. Er, no offense."

"None taken. He has hundreds of floozies, but I'm by far his most famous."

"You were his most famous."

"Yeah, I was." Past tense had never felt so liberating. "Fuck... Saying it out loud feels weird. I still can't believe this shit is happening."

"Believe, my dear friend. Dreams can and do come true, for you as they have for me."

"Yeah, we'll see about that. So, what do I do now? Do I just follow you around 'n shit?"

Alastor held his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm... First tell me what you're good at. Regarding combat, I mean."

Angel chuckled. "Good thing you specified. Well, I'm pretty fucking mean behind a tommy gun and any other chopper you give me. I can put lead in anything you ask me to so long as I can see it. Pistols, shotguns, grenades, molotovs... Anything that goes 'boom' and I'm pretty decent with it. Cherry Bomb's taught me a thing or two."

Alastor nodded along. "I see, I see. That can come in handy for certain. Now tell me, how good are you in hand-to-hand combat?"

"Well, in them regards I ain't all that." He held his arms out and extended a third set out of his torso, becoming the bottom set. "I got these extra hands, see, but I ain't no scrapper. I prefer pokin' a guy up with a knife than using my fists. Ain't much of a hard hitta."

That didn't seem to bother Alastor. In fact, his smile widened. "Oh, that simply won't do, I fear."

Angel really didn't like the look or sound of that. "Oh yeah? What do you want me to do about it? Train or something?"

"Oh, no no no. No need for any of that. Although I'm afraid your twig-like body will need some... modifications~" He then lifted one glove hand from behind his back.

Snap!

Angel jolted hard, not at the sound, but at the sudden rip of electricity that went down his spine and burst throughout his skeleton from limb to limb. "Whoa!" he hollered. He looked down at his body. Everything looked and felt normal now that the sensation had passed. "What did you do?"

"Oh, just added some heft to your genes, is all. It'll make you a much better shield, if I may put it bluntly."

"My genes? Do I even still have those? How's that gonna-?"

Cutting him silent was the sensation of stretching that beset his musculature like a host of rubber bands being pulled. It tugged at his every sinew and fiber, most glaringly around his limbs and glutes. He looked down at himself again and saw nothing unusual, and yet that bizarre feeling continued across his body as if he were in the middle of the most intense workout. His chest was getting tight. It was beginning to get hard to breathe.

His inhales quickened. "Hey. Whoa. Al, buddy, what's goin' on? I..."

"Relax, darling. Just making you a better fit for the job, is all," Alastor said while taking a step back. Across the room Fat Nuggets was roused from his nap. He looked up from his doggy bed to see what the commotion was.

"A better fit? What's that mean? What did you do?" The answer came in the form of his clothes tightening around his body. The edges of his pink and white striped jacket he wore sank into the white fur of his chest and arms. His fingers felt strangled in their gloves like they had turned into latex. The high-heeled shoes he had on, long having been worn by him, suddenly began biting into his ankles. The heavy bust of fur that bloomed from his chest from between the V in his jacket grew out even further, over growing the collar and the bowtie attached to it.

The panic was clear on his face. "Hey hey hey! This ain't right! What the fuck is this???"

Alastor put a finger over his lips. "Shhhhh. It's quite alright. The magic is doing what it's supposed to."

What had been a soft faux-bosom was sharpening into a pair of meaty pecs that impressed themselves on Angel's jacket. His sleeve-length gloves were at their limit, tearing down the seam like a rudely yanked zipper. Riiiiiip! A shocked Angel held his hand in front of him to see the damage. Doing so popped at least a dozen threads on his jacket sleeves, a sound that made his heart fill with ice. He could not splay his fingers, they were so tightly wound in what was left of the gloves. They began sliding off like corks in a bottle neck until at last the unraveling seam ended on the fingers. The ruined accessories floated to the rug like dead leaves, leaving his hands bare. Webbed through them were highways of thick tendons. The fingers had broadened from dainty digits to swollen sausages.

"Al..." he demanded. "Is this really fucking necessary?" Looking down he saw the raw definition that had befallen his torso. Beneath those bricked pecs was a row of rigidly structured abs. He saw them peak through the bottom side of his jacket as it was forcibly ridden up his studly trunk. Instinctively he reached down to unbutton it before it inevitably ripped, but found the pressure it put on his arms and shoulders made that impossible. Any movement, no matter how slight, would pop four or five threads at a time.

Riii-iii-iiiip!

"Aw come on!" Long tears appeared in his upper back as his shoulders started broadening. There was a loud pip sound as the first button came flying forward, then another, and then another, until the last was gone, leaving the jacket open across his strapping chest. What relief that offered evaporated now that his shoulders had become too big for it, severing the sleeves from the body and connecting it by only a few measly threads.

Most painful was his feet. They were still trapped in his heels. The toes curled and smushed together in the front, unable to break though the black leather that encased them. The weight on the heels increased until finally they could hold no more.

Snap!

They both broke like dry twigs from beneath him. His feet fell flat to the floor, throwing his balance off. He was incredibly top heavy. Those beefy arms went into a wild spin as his body timbered backwards. He looked down with terrified eyes as the floor zoomed towards him, crashing into his ass with a loud whumpf! He stopped himself from going all the way down to his back with his arms, but in doing so shredded what was left of the jacket.

Alastor just watched greedily. Glee made him knead the staff in his grasp. His eyes darted across every one of Angel's many new masculine facets, all of them growing with a stark definition to the next. He strode over to his new bodyguard and leaned over him, smiling that usual smile of his. "So, how do you like your new get up?"

Angel was looking at his magnificent physique with utter disgust. "Jesus titty fucking Christ, Al. Was this fuckin' necessary?"

"Why? You don't think so?"

"As a matter of fact, no! I don't!" He rolled his arms around to test his mobility. Everything moved just fine, but it hardly felt like his body anymore. The jacket, or at least what was left of it, was just a collection of frayed tatters and dripping threads that tickled down his bare skin. His feet were out of the shoe portion of his heels, pulled up into the ankle portion like a trapped spelunker. He sat up to the sound of more tearing to remove them. When they were off he saw that his legs and hamstrings had become just as beefy as the rest of him. His white panties remained, though they were sorely wedged between his iron glutes.

He swore under his breath as he pulled the remaining shreds off his torso. Gone was his effeminate chest floof, oft mistaken for breasts. Replacing them were a nicely cut pair of pectorals that bounced majestically with his every move of the arms. Rosy nipples dotted them both, the cherries on top of a hypermasculine sundae.

"Aw, come on, Al. Those were my money makers! How the fuck's a gal supposed to pull tricks without any tits?"

Alastor was giggling behind his hand. He gulped it back and cleared his throat. "Well, you won't be pulling tricks anymore, at least not as your employment. You'll need to be intimidating, not sexy. Although I will say you are quite the specimen now, aren't you?"

With his full buffness on display now, Angel had to admit that he looked pretty fabulous. He patted his abs. They were like warm marble. "I mean, yeah. Sure. If I saw a guy that looked like this I wouldn't mind gettin' railed by him." His hands migrated to his chest. There was a buzz of unfamiliarity from touching such solid muscle and not busty fur.

"You see? You've still got the looks. I'm sure there are still some patrons out there wishing to be 'railed' by you, as you put it."

"Yeah, but toppin' was never my forte. I dunno. I guess it ain't my department no more now that I'm workin' for you." While he spoke he couldn't stop looking at himself and feeling every new part of him. Muscles he didn't know he had were at the surface of his skin, revealing their sinewy, vascular structure. Just clenching his fists made the tendons in his forearms burst like a pulsing vein. It brought a power like he never had before. I bet I could crack a guy's skull with my bare hands.

Alastor admired him even more keenly. Sins of the flesh were not his interest, and yet a supreme fascination with masculine anatomy made his toes curl in their boots. "Perhaps not, but a stud such as yourself could certainly learn. Why don't you strike a few poses for us?"

Angel was looking over his shoulder and down his back at his ass, amazed by how the G-string of his panties were invisible inside the tight chomp of his ass cheeks. He frowned at Alastor. "What, am I a bodyguard or a model?"

Alastor shrugged. "I thought that we should get a gauge on how strong you are. Why don't you give your bicep a curl, hmm?"

"I mean, sure, I guess." Angel curled up one arm, though he did not flex the bicep.

"Oh, come on now. You can do better. Put some unf into it. Really swell that knot up. Press your forearm into it and curl your wrist."

The very moment Alastor made those commands Angel followed them. His fist bent into his forearm which in turn pressed into the fat boulder that had become his bicep. It achieved a frightening size. The skin surrounding it and his forearm stretched around it like shrink wrap. Rows of veins floated to the surface throughout his arm. Angel didn't recognize it, but his body was moving on Alastor's direction, outside of Angel's control, a power given to him with the handshake.

Angel just stared at his impressive arm. "Holy shit."

"Mmm, that's right." Alastor sauntered up to him, eyes locked on that fabulous arm knot. He held his hands up and peeled off one glove. He gave his long, pointed fingers a wiggle before laying them on Angel's bicep. A shiver rolled up his arm and made his hair jitter. "Oh yes. This will do just fine," he commented while caressing that mound of iron flesh. "Absolutely marvelous."

Angel had never seen him so enraptured before, let alone towards someone else's body. It felt strange being touched by him, though for some reason he didn't think to relax his arm. "Glad you think so. So, uh... This body gonna intimidate anybody out of hurtin' ya?"

A distracted Alastor looked at him. "What was that? Hurt me?"

"Yeah. Is this bod gonna stop people from trying to hurt you?"

Alastor realized what he was doing and retracted his hand like from a hot stove. "Yes! Yes, of course." He hurriedly pulled his glove back on. "A veritable beast like you is liable to tear anyone to shreds. They see you and they'll have second thoughts."

Angel cracked a smile. "Heh. I would too." He brought up another arm and flexed it too. "I feel like I can take on Lucy himself." Up came his bottom two arms, creating an ultra rare quadruple bicep flex. He looked at Alastor. "What do you think?"

Alastor thought he was about to suffer a sudden drop in blood pressure. "I think we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves." His eyes performed another scan of Angel's body, noting how the only remaining clothes on his body were the overburdened panties that were stretched over his genitals. "Though, if I must be honest. I think there is something else we should fix."

Angel's smile quickly died. He lowered his arms. "What's that? I'm already a bruiser."

"A bruiser, yes, but not a breeder." He lifted his hand.

Snap!

Another burst of lightning for Angel, this time in his loins. "Ah!" His knees knocked and his hands went over his junk like someone caught in the shower. It was not a painful sensation, though any sudden feeling in that region is certain to make a man double over. That stretching feeling that had beset his muscles earlier was now all over his crotch, the cock and balls most severely. He uncovered them to see the bulge in his underwear growing ever so slowly. He scowled up at Alastor. "Aw, come on, Al! Does my dick have to be bigger too?"

"What? I thought it would fit your frame better. It will be more appropriate than that measly thing you have now."

That "measly thing" was quickly growing into a leviathan within Angel's underwear. The waistband was pulled into his pelvis skin while the wedgie in his ass worsened. His cock, the top portion of which was visible through the gap in him and the waistband, grew and grew along with the set of orbs hung beneath them. The fabric was so stretched against it that it started to ache against his balls and burn the skin.

"Ah! It was perfectly fine the way it was, thank you! Perfectly average."

"Oh, who cares about average? It's the exotic, large types people care about," Alastor said in a textbook case of self-projection.

It was beginning to become too much for Angel. He was forced to pull the cup of the panties aside so that his pecker could come spilling out down his right leg. It hung from his loins like a dead python, white in color, cocooned by his pinched foreskin, and utterly swept with veins. It continued reaching downwards until the tip swung well within the patellar region. His balls were disproportionately massive. They were pressed against his right thigh like two shot puts in a plastic bag.

"God-mother-fucking-damn!" he hollered. Though it had stopped growing, the pressure on it from his underwear had not relented. Being totally useless by this point, he was forced to rip them off, rendering himself totally nude at last. He just stared at the Wagnerian wanker for several seconds, utterly speechless. He could feel it thrumming with testosterone as well as the gentle breeze that brushed against it and his sack, and yet his brain could not process that it was his. He had an easier time with his new muscles than this monstrosity.

Alastor whistled through his teeth. "Now isn't that sex tool every pornstar dreams of! You ought to be grateful!"

Angel didn't respond at first. He dared to reach down and pick up his new club. It weighed a ton in his hands. By no means was it insensitive as the first pang of pleasure rang through it and into his loins, making him wince. "Pornstars?" Angel repeated before looking up at his overlord. "Not even the biggest dick in the industry is this hung! I would know! She fucked me! I've probably got her now by at least six inches!"

Alastor shrugged. "Then I've made you an even better candidate."

"Yeah, for porn! Not for bodyguarding! How in the ever living name of shit is this supposed to help me protect you?" He throttled his own dick like it was some object.

"I think it adds to the intimidation factor. A fellow might stop if he sees your muscles. He will stop if he sees the bulge that thing will create."

Angel looked down at his phenomenal phallus and shook his head. "I don't know. A dick like this ain't gonna do shit. Hell, I don't even think this thing can get hard anymore." In that very moment Angel knew he should've kept his mouth shut.

"Oh, don't worry. We can do something about that." Another lift of the hand.

Snap!

"Hahhhh!" Ripples of energy throughout his staff, accompanied this time by a severe pleasure that made his thigh muscles quiver. There came a tsunami of blood into his manhood, flushed there by a rapid increase in his pulse. He felt the turgid, spongy flesh within his grasp begin to stiffen beat by beat. The head angled upwards with the helmet peeking its way out of the foreskin as it distended backwards. He let go of it in a vain attempt to slow down the process only to watch it grow on until it reached out of him like the vanguard of a phalanx.

He had estimated that he had at least six inches on the most endowed pornstar in the industry. That turned out to be conservative now that his cock stood at its zenith, a titanic display of fecundity well within the realm of hyperbole. Regarding an exact number, he was 24 inches from tip to hilt, nigh twice the length of the referred pornstar who had sodomized him. He remembered it as one of the most difficult shoots of his career for obvious reasons, but what he had now would've made a film with even the most pliable of bottoms outright impossible. From his doorknob-sized glans bled a steady flow of precum. It thinned into a column down to the floor like drool, glistening in the firelight. With an involuntary throb of his floor muscle the entire thing bounced, letting fly a drop of precum that flew through the air and fell onto the rug in front of Alastor's feet.

Angel was once again speechless. He did not dare touch his own cock lest it explode in his grasp and paint the whole room. It felt capable of doing so thanks to the severe case of blue balls that had fallen on him. The urge to jerk off was nigh insurmountable, and yet he found himself too afraid to do so.

"Fuck, Al," he said at last. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with all this?"

"Anything you please, of course. I'm sure you can think of something. Now that you're my protector, perhaps you can... beat someone to death with it."

That didn't sound like the absurd idea it should've been. "Yeah, I guess I could."

Alastor strode up to him for a better look. He got it by bending at almost a 90 degree angle and bringing his face within inches of the business end. The sexual aroma was more intense than anything he'd ever smelled, primal and metallic, though it wasn't what he came to admire. His eyes traced along every vein, filament, and wrinkle. He pondered how much could fit within that sleeping bag of a foreskin currently retracted beneath the flare of Angel's pink cock helmet. Then there were the balls. A bigger pair neither of them had ever seen. They stretched the scrotum smooth. Alastor was glad for him that he had made him so muscular or else it was doubtful he would ever be able to lift such behemoths in the cold.

"Yes, that will do swimmingly," Alastor said, more to himself than Angel.

"Hey, Al. I appreciate the big dick and the compliments on it, but can you let the thing die down for me?" He winced. "Ahh... I feel like I'm about to blow like Vesuvius here."

Alastor snapped his gaze up at him, suddenly remembering that there was a person attached to all that cock. "Ah, yes. In time, my dear," he said as he stood up.

Angel scowled. "In time? Oh, come on. You can't blue ball me like this."

"Rest easy, darling. There will be no 'blue balling', as you put it." He waltzed away from Angel, towards the fireplace. "I'd simply like to see what that instrument of yours can do. How long can it stay hard? How sensitive is it? Can it really perform as the weapon I need it to be?"

Angel's indignation boiled over into rage. "You mind tellin' me what the ever living fuck that has to do with bodyguarding?"

Alastor seemed to ignore him. He was bent in front of the fire, watching the logs burn slowly. He picked up a poker from the nearby bin and began jostling the flames. "Some of it does. Some of it doesn't. It matters not, really." He looked over his shoulder at Angel, his conniving smile darkened by the silhouette that shrouded him in front of the fire. "You're in my employ now. You'll do what I say."

The anger boiling inside of Angel twisted his face into an appalling visage of wrinkles. "You mother fucker..."

Alastor ignored him. His attention had fallen on Fat Nuggets who was still in his doggy bed, watching the debauchery unfold obliviously. "Oh, I forget how adorable your little piggy is sometimes." He turned towards the bed. "You should really-"

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HIM!"

Alastor paused. His eardrums rang for a moment before he continued. "You should really introduce him to others. He would make a great mascot for the hotel." Alastor fell into a squat over the doggy bed. He peeled one glove off and reached out for the unfrightened Fat Nugget.

He ignored the titanic spider thumping towards him with arms outreached to strangle the overlord. Angel came full tilt, teeth bared in a snarl, forgetting all potential consequences of what would soon happen. His voice was an air-rippling growl. "Don't you fucking dare you cock sucking-"

He came to an abrupt stop. One foot was planted in front of the other, mid stride. His arms were still in front of him, aiming for the Radio Demon's neck, and yet they would go no further. Something made him stop, not a force or a decision, just an inexplicable failure of his muscles to carry on.

He scowled down at himself. "What the fuck?" He meant to jerk his body out of this paralysis, and yet he could not so much as twitch a finger.

Alastor was petting Fat Nugget's head while not even minding the monolithic spider just a few feet away, preparing to kill him. His attention was on the pig, the same pig he had pranked Angel into thinking he'd eaten. He rubbed its head, enjoying the way its floppy little ears jostled back and forth.

"An adorable creature, for sure. I see why you're so attached to him." Alastor stood up and met the gaze of his would-be attacker. "You're a fool for even trying, you know. Didn't you read the contract?"

Angel was still trying to rip himself out of this funk. The most he could do was grunt and cuss. He gave up eventually and glowered at Alastor. "Yeah, I read your stupid fucking contract. I just didn't want you fucking touching my best friend."

"You'd try and kill me for petting a pig?"

"I didn't know what you were going to do you fucking psychopath."

"Well, you should know I wasn't going to eat it. I already played that gag already. Also, I'm not a fan of the word psychopath. I prefer the term..." He lifted his hand. Those jaunty eyes melted away into black holes. Reality glitched around the demon's head, pixels scraping apart space as an ambient static roared from the void. A garbled voice played in Angel's head, not from Alastor's mouth. "M???i???s???c???r???e???a???n???t???~???.???"

Snap.

A great stretching across Angel's body. Each muscle, from those beared against his skin to the most minute ones buried within, began to expand. The paralysis holding him back from Alastor was gone, if only because it had been supplanted by a great dearth of space created by his inflating body The biceps swallowed the space between his shoulders and elbows. His thighs became like barrels and his calves became artillery shells. The skin sank into the many trenches between his sinews now joined by a veritable highway system of veins that winded and corkscrewed.

Angel's eyes went wide in his head as it was locked in place by the two trap muscles rising out of its flanks. The sound of growing fibers became deafening as his ears were pressed into his shoulders. His pecs lifted into his chin. He was literally about to drown. All of that strength, and the spider was powerless.

"Al!" he yelled from within his choking collar.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic darling. I'm not going to kill you," said Alastor who was back to normal. "I'm not even going to paralyze you like this. You're no good to me if you are. Just satiating my curiosity, is all." He approached the rapidly swelling muscle demon, looking him over like he were some artifact in a museum. "Yes, didn't you turn into something quite nice?" He laid a hand on one of Angel's pecs. It was like touching a wall of bronze covered in fuzz. "Ooh, that's lovely. I adore that." His fingers sifted through the softness and landed on the nipple. He closed his gloved fingers around it and gave it a soft twist.

The sharpest pain-pleasure ripped through Angel's body. His eyes rolled into his head as a muffled moan left him. "Hyuuuuhhhhhh!"

"Oh yes. These are rather touchy, aren't they?" He circled Angel like a shark, cataloging each muscle in his mind where it would remain forever. Stopping him in his tracks was the sight of Angel's ass, two slabs of rippled meat forced to grind together as they grew. "Oh! Why, look at this!" He reeled his hand back and gave one cheek a big ol' spank.

Whack!

"Ahhh! Hahhhhhh!"

Alastor wagged the pain out of his hand. "My, my! Like beating a brick wall! I think there might be a more viable method." He pulled his staff from behind him and whipped the pole part against Angel's ass.

THWACK!

"Hyaaaaahhhhhhh!"

"Oh, that's much more appropriate, I think."

THWACK!

"Hrrrrnnnngggghhhhhhh..."

"Oh, don't be such a crybaby." Alastor came back around to Angel's front and saw his cock and balls. They too had grown, but not in length. The cock was like a siege cannon now, its two orbs hanging in a pouch just behind it. Precum bled from the tip like a broken dispenser, ruining the carpet below with an ever-growing puddle of nut. "Wowza. Would you look at that? You're hornier than a toad, my friend." He looked up at Angel. "Would you like me to do something about that?"

What visible parts of Angel's face were left depicted genuine desperation. "Yes, please."

"I thought so." Alastor laid his pole on the rug and held Angel's cock with both hands. It was so big that the only way to touch fingers around it was not just to use both hands but both arms. He laid one hand on top, the other directly beneath it on the bottom. He started beneath the head and glided it down his length. He saw Angel's eyes roll in their sockets. "Ahhh, you like that big boy?"

It was a bliss better than anything Angel had experienced just to be stroked. "Nnnnnnn..."

"Yes, I thought as much. This will stretch you into shape, don't you worry."

So it did. Along with the joy of having his dick touched was his bones growing alongside the muscles. No longer was he stuck in place by their astronomical size as his skeleton raced to match it better at least. His head lifted from the well that was his collar while his bicep stretched along his upper arm more evenly. The rest of him adjusted properly as his head lifted towards the ceiling and grew bigger too.

Alastor did not stop jerking him off. He was back in that trance, put there by his own creation, feeling more alive than he had in decades. Angel's foreskin would peel backwards with each downwards swipe of his hands. That leviathan muscle on the underside, alone a barbarous asset to his anatomy, would throb and let loose individual globs of precum that would splat audibly on the rug. Fragments of it doused Alastor's feet. Such sexual contact would've appalled him in any other circumstance, and yet in such an ecstatic fever he begged for more of that raunchy ichor to come piling out.

He got his wish as Angel continued to grow and grow and grow. His moans were uncensored now, left to echo through the chamber. The joy that had taken over his member could distract him from his journey towards the ceiling. His climax was upon him, inched forward by each one of Alastor's expert strokes.

"Oh fuuuuuuuck! Huhhhhh! Yes! YES! OH GOD! HUHHHHHHH!"

"That's it," hissed Alastor who had to reach above his head to complete the task at hand. "Cum for me, my dear bodyguard!"

The contract stipulated that Angel had to obey.

"HYUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHH~~~!!!" The first rope rocketed out of him and struck the far wall.

POW!

The drywall cracked like an egg. Pictures hanging on the wall rattled and then fell to the floor with a terrific clatter. The splatter was the size of an SUV, a multi-tentacled blob of opaque ivory. More shots followed, each one more chaotic than the last. Everything from the rug to the wall was ruined. Wind displaced by the roaring cumshots disrupted the fire in the fireplace.

Even the mighty Alastor was startled by such violence. He leapt away with a smile mixed with fright and glee. He shook his fists in front of him like a schoolgirl as he watched the fruits of his labor unload on the wall like battery fire. Angel was perfectly oblivious to the destruction. His groan lasted the duration of his orgasm, plummeting into a low growl up to the moment it ended. He floated on a cloud of dopamine, totally drunk, unable to think about anything that wasn't the pure heaven that had become his loins. He teetered back on his heels. His towering frame came timbering towards the floor again, this time as a much, much greater threat. His shadow darkened beneath him as his body closed the gap.

Whumpf!

Meeting him was not ungiving hardwood but soft mattress. Soft like a cloud, he sank into it up to his shoulders. Beneath his head was a nice, fluffy pillow. His eyes blinked open. He was back in his room, facing the ceiling. His heart was still racing and sweat doused him. A dream? All a dream?

He felt something small crawling up his sternum. He looked down expecting a huge bug, but instead saw a much smaller Fat Nuggets coming up to sniff and lick his face. "Hey, sweety. Did you shrink or something?"

"No, not quite," said a familiar voice nearby.

Angel turned his head over to see Alastor standing in the middle of the room. He too looked ridiculously smaller. "You. What the fuck are you doing in my room?"

"I transported you here, of course. I've done you the liberty of making everything bigger in proportion to your new body."

Angel looked down at himself, past Fat Nuggets. No, it was not a dream. Laid across the bed was his monstrous frame, strapped with enough muscle to surpass even the greatest strongman. While it was not as bloated as prior to Alastor's handjob, it was nonetheless an audacious display with each muscle in stark contrast to its neighbor. Standing out of all of his was his mountain of genitals, currently spent of all cum and slumped peacefully.

Angel dropped his head back on the pillow with a pout. "Fuck..."

"Don't fret about it too much, my dear Angel. You'll make the greatest bodyguard there ever was, and I'm certain you can have a career in adult films as a novelty."

Angel scoffed. "You know I don't give a fuck about any of that. Did you enlarge my clothes too?"

Alastor put his hand over his mouth. "Oops! Must have slipped my mind. Here, this should cover you up properly."

Poof! Out from the air above Angel's chest was a speedo that fell and landed on his chest. It was positively puny, offering absolutely no chance in covering Angel's colossal junk. Indignation made his eye twitch. He shot a fierce glare at the Radio Demon.

Alastor met it with a wink. "See you around, bodyguard." Then he vanished with a poof of smoke.

Angel wasn't done with him. "AL, YOU SLIMY COCKSUCKA!"

Fat nuggets leapt off his chest just in time before Angel launched from his bed for the door. His footfalls shook the hotel as he charged. His knee-length cock bounced and bobbed dangerously. His fist closed around the doorknob. He tore it open to go sprinting through.

Stopping him dead in his tracks were his business partners, Charlie and Vaggie. They were ready to knock on the suspiciously enlarged door when they heard a conversation and screaming. Now they looked up at a huge, moist spider dick and its paralyzed owner.

Angel just stood there, staring back down at them. "Awwwwww, crap..."

THE END