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(THE CITY OF BRADDOCK. ON THE PLANET UMAGO)

Zoltan lay in silence, his body shutting down at long last. His heart was still beating, each pulse weaker and more erratic than the last, forcing the stims through his ravaged body. His strength was all but gone, his once bulging muscles atrophying and wasting away. His mind was clouded, he could tell not up from down, left from right, there was darkness, and there was no light, no sound.

There was peace.

The stimulants, products of greed and lust, coursed through his system. The tsunami had turned into a pleasant stream. The inferno had become ambers. Zoltan could feel it, the chemicals surging through his body with every heartbeat, every breath. It was creeping into his system from every surface of his body, flowing into his bones, spreading into his organs, destroying his flesh as it did.

The once mighty Warlord felt his heart slowing, slowing till it reached its last beat. Like a spark that refused to die, Zoltan's heart pumped one last, hard time.

Zoltan's body turned to ice. He was still conscious, and then his heart beat again.

And again.

And again.

A sensation, strange and profound, started to emanate from somewhere in his body. It pulsed, burning Zoltan's nerves with a fire that he had not felt before. Yet, it did not hurt. It did not sear as it did before. Another pulse, and there was energy, power. Zoltan drank it in, clinging on to the hope that had formed in his chest.

The pulsing continued, each one minutely stronger than the last, and Zoltan's genetically engineered body absorbed it, absorbed more and more of this energy until the world came back to him. New sensations struck him left and right, the mild stinging from where the patches had stuck to him, the slight pressure of a thousand stimpatches pressing from above and around him.

A few more seconds past before Zoltan realised the pulsing was coming from his balls. It was like a ripple of energy blasting from his ball sac through the rest of his body. The discharge of power reminded him of the tingling sensation that would course through his body right before he ejaculated. And this time, it was as though every cell in his body was riding the waves of an intense orgasm. His enhanced body was like a giant cock jacked up with excessive amounts of super powered muscle juice that was about to explode from every pore on his skin. Zoltan felt the skin around his lips tighten into a smile. He knew what was coming, and he was ready.

The pulsing had become intense, so much more than what Zoltan had first sensed it. Zoltan had become so aware of himself again that he realised he had groaned. There was one final pulse, and Zoltan felt his heavy balls almost bouncing with size and strength.

Zoltan's cock was the first thing that began to grow. All sensation, all feeling seemed to be focused onto his growing penis. At first he felt the stimulation he usually did when his cock began to harden, but the sensation slowly morphed into something much... much more, and it became perfectly clear Sergeant Gunther's favourite muscle was inflating with every pleasure inducing pulse. Endorphins rushed through his system with each cock expanding pulse, pulses that were slowing becoming erotic throbs. There was some sort of celebrating in his brain as Zoltan felt his cock, which had shrunk to a pathetic 6 inches, swelling and bulging, pushing past the spent stimpatches around it.

The Warlord groaned as his meat continued increasing in size, growing past the length and size of an expensive wine bottle. It was getting stronger, whatever resistance the empty patches had pushed against his cock was lessening as his erection continued to swell. Zoltan moaned, strongly this time, as his meat turned into a veined monster that was well over two feet long and thicker than a grapefruit. Ecstasy crushed into him in waves as Zoltan realised that his balls had been growing all this time, each testosterone factory had swollen to the size of footballs, pushing his skinny legs apart as they pumped more and more juice into his system.

And then his growth seemed to slow, his mega cock oozing with cum, and Zoltan knew his internal organs were expanding, strengthening to accommodate what was to be his his new size, and that excited him. The pause was brief, for the sudden stretching of his entire body. Zoltan cried out, but only slightly as his bones expanded, ready for his ascension into a colossal muscle god.

Zoltan shot past 7 feet, 8 feet, barely reached 9 feet before his body stopped, leaving him looking like some skinny, megacocked giant. But Zoltan did not despair, the throbbing in his balls was growing strong again, and he knew what was coming next.

And then the throbbing climaxed, and Zoltan felt his cock release a single, powerful blast as the muscles across his atrophied body exploded with molten power. Even his hands were swelling with power, the skin tightening painfully across his boulder crushing fists as sinewy muscle bulged from his fingers, as his brittle fingernails turned into massive, armour crushing claws.

Manly moans slipped through Zoltan's lips as he felt his ass explode beneath him, the muscles rippling like cables under paper-thin skin, spreading to his thighs until they were thicker than his torso. His calves followed suit, until his now monstrous legs started to crush his balls together, stimulating him more than could be healthy.

Another mighty throb bulged from Zoltan's heavy balls. And this time Zoltan yelled as his torso suddenly exploded, his pectorals swelling like the muscle morphing holovids that so many people owned. The muscles bulged monstrously, forcing out each boulder like slabs of meat outward like a shelf, packing on so much beef they pushed his erect nipples down. Zoltan flexed his growing pecs, enjoying the surging adrenaline that coursed through his meaty flesh. Zoltan's moans turned to growls as his pecs continued to swell, fighting for space on his chest and bulging out in all directions. Even his nipples were growing, thickening and stretching beneath his pec shelf.

Zoltan's enjoyment of his new chest muscles was overshadowed by a sudden awareness of what was happening to his midsection. It was obvious his non-existent abdominals had swelled into thick, powerful ridges of muscle, the 8-pack was divided by deep etches into his flesh that would put irrigation canals to shame. More growls as Zoltan flexed his new abs, enjoying how the muscle grinded against each other as his merest whim. A few more flexes here and there and Zoltan finally realised his muscular midsection was stronger than his striated pecs, and he knew why, he was going to need all that muscle to hold up the supermassive muscles that would soon come.

His attention shifted to his back. Now, even without having to focus Zoltan knew his back was beyond massive and overly developed. That suited him just fine, after all, there was a phrase from old Earth, "that lat spread is wider than an entire state", and Zoltan knew his lats were overqualified in that regard. Shoulders, muscular and powerful beyond imagining, and probably more than fifty inches across, suddenly rippled with so much power Zoltan let loose another powerful cumshot, this one thicker and creamier than the last.

Finally, it was time for his arms. Zoltan arced his head back as thick cords of muscle began twisting themselves around his arms, like massive, musclecables, fusing into his flesh and swelling with so much power his biceps were soon the size of small tires! Biceps upon biceps exploded from his upper arms, peaking upon peaks and splitting upon splits, each overdeveloping, over competing with each other until his arms became monstrous punishers. His triceps had pumped out so much they started to push against his lats, pushing his arms out and out as his biceps fought with his pecs for space on his body, both muscles throbbing with angry veins that wouldn't go away. Zoltans forearms were thicker than his previous body and the Warlord felt a sudden spark in his now functioning nervous system.

In reflex, Zoltan flexed both gigantic, rippling arms.

The explosion of muscle was too much. Zoltan's two and a half foot cock suddenly bulged monstrously, blood-pumping veins burst to life, throbbing and snaking across his shaft like angry webs. Zoltan felt the lust and ecstasy overwhelm him, and he flexed again and again, enjoying the rippling explosions of power that came with each mighty flex, his massive, muscular body bursting to the surface as he did, till the sea of stimpatches came only to his waist.

And then Zoltan let the lust for muscle overtake him, he wanted this, NEEDED this almost as much as he needed his Gunther. He began to kick, his super powered legs finding fresh stimpatches that stuck to his skin, pumping his muscles with more and more size. Zoltan began seizing handfuls of patches, splashing waves of stimpatches over his chest, his neck, his monster penis.

Tingling sensations assailed him as pubic fur began sprouting out from the base of his cock, and from between his rippling pectorals. The sexy trail crept up from his cock and down from his pecs, resulting in a hairy, sweaty forest through his midsection. His furry pubes began spreading down to his balls, thickening the fur that was already there before spreading between his striated ass muscles. More pubic fur began growing from his armpits, and Zoltan brought his arms up for an earthshakingly powerful double bicep.

"Yeeeeaahh!" Zoltan growled, his deep voice becoming fuller, richer the more he grew. The Warlord knew he was turning into the biggest, freakiest, sexiest muscle hulk the universe was going to see. He knew he was going to crush tanks between his hairy pecs, he knew his megadick would break trees, he knew his abs would grind diamonds to dust.

And he knew Gunther would want much, much more.

*** (THE SWEETIE PIE. HEADQUATERS AND CAPITAL WARSHIP OF THE UMAGON REBEL FORCES)

"What did I tell you Pridewater?" said the sharply dressed lynx on one monitor, "Absolute immunity to stimulant overdose."

"Definitely," agreed a bespectacled bull on another monitor, "and the exponential growth of pubic hair clearly indicates far higher testosterone production than we initially anticipated. Why, I would say, unlike the previous versions, the limiting factor for stimulant absorption has been utterly removed."

The military scientists continued to babble amongst themselves, but General Michael Pridewater was impressed enough. None of the other Warlords before this one had ever made it to this size, then again, according to their files, all of them had only undergone development under controlled laboratory conditions.

Pridewater leaned closer to his monitor, which had access to every security camera in Lieutenant-Colonel Mitch Michelson's 'secret' stimpack production facility. It was almost, fascinating, from the military's perspective anyway. Zoltan Armstrong looked to be a good ten feet tall and built like a tank.

"What a magnificent genitalia too," exclaimed the lynx as Zoltan tore his way out of the vat, causing a mess of spent stimpatches to flood the area, "he could probably power your entire ship for months on end!"

"Maybe years," commented the bull from inside his monitor, "look at how thick his pre-ejaculatory fluid is, we simply must have a sample, and soon!"

The bull was right, Pridewater could see Zoltan's thick precum oozing and dripping from his semi hardon. In fact, he was splattering more precum in those short few seconds than most people spurted cum in their entire orgasms. The semi hard alone was probably four feet long and absolutely massive, if he could maintain a full erection, there would definitely be more than enough power for the warp coils for ages on end.

Pridewater was impressed, and watching Zoltan rip his way through the facility impressed him even more.

"Such strength!" called the lynx, who had become flustered and (Pridewater suspected) probably had his pants undone, "What will you do with him now Pridewater?"

The General paused for a moment, admiring the carnage the Warlord sowed as he searched for his little Gunther. "There's something else I would like to know actually. You all saw what happened to the Stim-Infuser didn't you?"

The lynx and the bull nodded their agreements.

"Any of you know if Mitch made it to the final and, most critical phase?"

The scientists glanced toward each other's monitors, as if they were side by side.

"No? Well, let's observe our Lieutenant-Colonel then, I want to see how this plays out."

*** (THE CITY OF BRADDOCK. ON THE PLANET UMAGO)

The ecstasy was almost unbearable.

It was so painful, so pleasurable; the power under his skin was overwhelming. Even the slightest movement caused the most erotic contraction of his gargantuan muscles. Mitch could feel the stims ebbing and flowing in his very veins, with most of it concentrated to his swollen balls. Those things had become fucking testosterone factories, fuelling his new Warlord body with all the muscle it would ever need. Why, he could almost feel a deluge of cum sloshing around inside each massive testicle.

Mitch flexed his pecs, admiring their strength. They had become hard, so fucking huge and so very hard. His nipples had become more sensitive than ever, simply exposing to the very air would turn them into hard, stiff nibs. The officer continued violating himself, ignoring the struggling Sergeant Gunther in the corner of his private quarters. Gunther wasn't going anywhere, not with so much metal bent around his limbs.

The officer returned to his self-pleasure, gently rubbing his solid ass muscles against the silky fabric of the bed. It was almost too much, each stroke, no matter how hard, assaulted his mind with ecstatic jolts, his entire body began heating up as he lost control of his orgasm, his climax poised to explode from his cock like a volcano.

Mitch opened his mouth to roar, the underside of his cock swelling monstrously as a tidal wave of cum rode to the surface. His entire body started to burn, almost painfully, and despite the earth shaking throes of his orgasm, Mitch sensed something amiss.

*** (THE SWEETIE PIE. HEADQUATERS AND CAPITAL WARSHIP OF THE UMAGON REBEL FORCES)

"Noo! NOO! Ughh!! Ahhhh!!! Nooooahhhhh!! UGHHNN!!!!!"

There were more high ranking VIPs in the multi-way conversation now. And General Pridewater couldn't help but join them in their incessant chuckles. It was almost humorous, watching Mitch Michelson's futile attempts at cutting his orgasm short. The poor soul had indeed missed out the final phase of the Warlord conversion process, whereby all the cells in the body would have to be genetically modified to permanently retain the initial infusion of stimulants.

Mitch's muscles were still mighty and hard, his endowment was still erect and massive. But he had shrunk, he had softened. Pridewater estimated he lost about half a foot in height and perhaps thirty kilos of muscle, and it looked as if he was going to keep cumming.

"Did you even know this would happen, Pridewater?" smirked one of the new comers, a wolf this time. "I admit its fun to watch."

"And look, they're about to have a visitor!"

*** (THE CITY OF BRADDOCK. ON THE PLANET UMAGO)

The door was struck so hard it took most of the wall with it. So explosive was its destruction that it distracted Gunther from the shrinking and still orgasming Lieutenant-Colonel Mitch.

And then Zoltan stepped through, and Gunther felt blood rushing to all the wrong places.

Oh dear god! He was huge! He was fucking HUGE! Easily ten feet tall and jacked as fuck. Each arm must have been over forty inches around, cold. And that chest! Oh god that chest, each pec was the size of a large pillow, huge and bulging and hard and meaty. But that wasn't what snagged Gunther's attention. It was the veritable forest of thick, blond pubic fur sprouting from in-between the hugest pair of pecs in the world. The mass of sweaty hair trailed downwards, between two columns of titanic diamond crushing abs before fusing into a huge bush above the base of his-

FUCK IT WAS HUGE! Gunther felt a spurt of hot cum bursting into his pants as he comprehended the size of Zoltan's throbbing cock. That thing was already four feet long and thicker than his waist, and it wasn't even fully hard! Saliva started pooling in his mouth as he watched that twitching, pre-soaked cock grow and grow and grow. Involuntary flexes caused the giant piece of meat to bounce upwards, allowing Gunther to see just how fucking huge it was getting. The monster continued to swell, feeding off fire hose sized veins that throbbed uncontrollably, swelled and swelled until it reached maximum hardness with a resounding throb. The meatpole bounced one more time, so hard this time it struck against Zoltan's titanic, furry pecs with a loud, wet 'smack', and Gunther realised that thing had gotten so huge it was taller than Zoltan when upright.

Then their eyes met. And Gunther felt a tsunami of sexual energy crashing into his being. Zoltan crossed the room, the both of them ignoring the shrinking, still-cumming Michelson on the bed.

And suddenly Gunther's entire world turned into a monstrous, bulging, ripped-to-shred Zoltan Armstrong. Gunther couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. There was too much musk, too much lust in the air. His own hardon spewing load after load of cum into his pants as Zoltan reached down to tear off his metal bindings like one would tear paper.

Before he knew it, he was in Zoltan's face, kissing and licking and sucking his satisfaction from the Warlord's newfound power. Zoltan's face felt different, it was stronger, bigger. His perfect blond hair had grown into something that resembled a cross between a Mohawk and a wild mane. Gunther simply grabbed and pulled at it for support as he grinded his cock inside the Warlord's furry cleavage.

Gunther didn't know what happened to Zoltan. But this new Zoltan drove him wild, drove him insane. He barely even realised the hair he was pulling was probably stronger than steel.

After what seemed like an eternity of fucking and kissing, Gunther yanked himself free, gasping for breath, only to have his lungs flooded with the scent of Zoltan's musk and cum. Overwhelmed, Gunther fell back as another orgasm exploded into his pants. Zoltan didn't waste any time though, a single claw the size of his forearm came down, shredding off all the fabric from Gunther's convulsing body.

Then Zoltan fell onto him, monstrous and muscular and sexy, his cock exploding with uncontrolled sexual energy.

Gunther fell into blackness, screaming in ecstasy.

***

Zoltan pushed himself upright and wiped the juice and sweat from his face. The entire room had turned into a sauna, hot and covered in copious of thick manmilk. He didn't know how long he had passed out for, but something told him it wasn't for very long.

His titanic muscles ached from the workout as he picked up the unconscious Gunther Hawke and draped him across one tank-like shoulder. Even the slightest touch of Gunther against his muscles sent jolts of pleasure through his body, causing his limp cock to suddenly twitch with painful excitement. No, he didn't think he could cum any more, his cock had erupted so much it had turned a very deep shade of red, much redder than he had ever experienced before.

The Warlord strode through the pools of his juices toward the exit, ignoring the trembling figure which had curled into a ball on the bed.

Lieutenant-Colonel Mitch Michelson was not the Warlord he once was. Zoltan did not know what had happened, but he had burst into the room to see a climaxing Michelson shrinking with each weakening cumshot. Michelson had shrunk to his normal size, he was no longer a physical threat, and, judging by the way he was crying and murmuring to himself, not any threat at all.

Zoltan smirked as he recalled Michelson's pitiful reactions to his demonstrations of male strength and virility. It almost made up for having that piece of shit in the same room as him and Gunther. Michelson wasn't going to cause any trouble anytime soon, not with his entire collection of Warlord technology now in wrecks underground.

The cool air breezed against his naked body as Zoltan stepped into the moonlight. The Warlord deliberately took a path away from the bustling nightlife of Braddock, no sense displaying his godly form to just anyone.

Zoltan had more difficulty squeezing his hulking body through the window this time, but after some squeezing and pushing and praying, found himself safely inside and placing Gunther onto the cum crusting sheets.

The bed protested painfully as Zoltan crawled onto it, but it held against his massive weight. Gunther looked so peaceful, so beautiful, so satisfied after all that sex. Zoltan wrapped himself around his mate, snuggling him gently as fatigue started to set in.

He smiled.

"Told you I'd keep you warm tonight."

*** (THE SWEETIE PIE. HEADQUATERS AND CAPITAL WARSHIP OF THE UMAGON REBEL FORCES)

"You look pleased Michael," purred the lynx from his monitor, "I'd say the experiment was a success."

Pridewater smiled, knowing the lynx only addressed him by his first name because all the other participants of the multi-way conference had excused themselves for 'bathroom breaks'. They had seen everything. Finally after all these years, results!

Pridewater beamed, "Yes, you're right, General Cortez."

Cortez laughed, "Very well, this calls for a celebration, how's about after the final brief to the Minister?"

"Sounds good, Cortez."

The Generals laughed, finally pleased with their results.

"Hail to the people, Michael!"

"Hail to the people, Cortez!"

"Hail to the Republic."