growth Male Hunger - part 9 (18/09/21)

[cregssatx]

Damn, W0lven, this story is hot!  And I'm loving that you're... errr... feeding us.... glimpses of what Bran looks like.  The anticipation is awesome!

[Ro20316]

Man.

I love this.

I imagine Bran to be like this guy.

Huge ripped hot and rough

 

 

[dredlifter]

You are doing awesome!  Another great chapter.  Bran's isn't just slowly growing bigger, he's also getting more dominant.

You're pacing is perfect and you are far from being too repetitive.  Trust me, I've written stories that have repetitive elements (*cough* Elongro *cough*) and you are far from that.  

And we would love to see other aspects of Bran!  What makes him tick.  Why does he enjoy becoming a huge muscular man?  Has he always been a big jock?  Some backstory would be cool. 

Ultimately you haven't let us down yet so whatever you do will be great. 

[W0lven]

@Ro20316 That man's burning hot, holy hell! He can do whatever he wants to me.. To me, Bran looked close to that when it comes to his body when he met Thomas in the door frame, except beefier, and taller. Since then, things have changed a lil'...


@dredlifter I don't know, man; i enjoy reading Elongro quite a lot, and sure, there are repetitive parts, but that's also why it works so well!  The style is inspiring.
You're gonna learn more about Bran later, tho; I'm still setting things up for now

@cregssatx I like feeding y'all my story, filling you up with words about Bran's size... Haha

anyway without further ado;

 

Part 6
 

     When Bran’s mind rose back to awareness, the first thing his sluggish mind took notice of was the sound of something wet hitting the ground. He idly thought it sounded a bit like raindrops falling from tree leaves long after a thunderstorm. It sounded a bit different, though. But it was very relaxing. Bran slowly became aware of how he felt, relaxed and wrung-out, like after a good workout. His body felt… Different. As soon as that thought hit, he was bombarded by how sore his muscles, hell, his whole body felt. He groaned at the familiar pain, feeling like he had been hit by a truck. That was good, though. But the tightening in his thighs and arm muscles also signaled they were on the verge of cramping, and that was the opposite of good, really. He was quite uncomfortably warm, too, skin damp and hot as though someone had set the room at max temperature then somehow pushed beyond that. Man, he was so thirsty.. His cock felt especially raw. Reminded of its look earlier, he winced and had to check if his meat was fine. He opened his eyes, the light stabbing at his brain with tiny needles, and grumbled hoarsely, his throat dry.

     After a few moments, he checked his meat out, lifting heavy arms to touch his dormant tool. It seemed fine, if a bit bigger and more veiny than before. Bran figured it only made sense after staying at full-mast for such a long time, and shrugged it off. Right away, he became aware of the painful tension in his traps, neck and back. He stretched, hearing and feeling his back pop and crack. Some of the pain went away after a few seconds and he groaned. His stomach rumbled, he felt like it was trying to devour itself.

     “Oh god…”

     The mutter shocked him wholly awake. His attention narrowed on the naked figure trying to dress back into the clothes Bran had torn earlier – Bran’s pole twitched at the reminder of that moment, slivers of pain going up his spine. Thomas was currently struggling to pull his wet torn jeans back up his legs. As he watched, the dude skidded a bit on the slippery floor. Bran scratched his slimy hairy belly and grinned at the preoccupied male. A wet splotch roused his curiosity. He looked up and took in a slow breath, impressed.

     A thick coat of creamy cum was spread all over the ceiling, strands slowly forming and breaking off. As he watched, one glob thudded on his already coated thigh. It was still warm. He sniffed, musk strong in the air. His cum had hurtled through the room; the ground was flooded with it. The same could be said of the furniture: the low table in front of him had its own layer of sludge. The empty pizza boxes were soggy with it. He felt like his butt was sitting in a patch of warm cum. He turned his head and bent down to look at the couch and winced. It was utterly ruined, the material spongy with it. Ian would have his hide, and he grumbled, dismayed. Bran didn’t like to be chewed out by his friend. He’d also have to clean up the mess he’d made. He sighed, annoyed and a bit chagrined. He glanced up, the light lancing through his eyes, just in time to watch as Thomas slipped to his knees. He had a small, quiet laugh.

     Then his stomach rumbled, shockingly loud in the silent apartment.

     Thomas’ head snapped around and when he found Bran awake and looking at him, he froze in place. Despite his exhaustion, despite himself, he felt his cock swell at the wariness in Thomas’ face, at the sigh of him on his knees, covered in fluid and his pants only put up to his slender thighs. His swelling cock brought with it more pain, and Bran only shook his head.

     The big dude lumbered up, loud cracks and pops echoing from his joints, and went to the smaller man, the sound of wet steps and from cabinets rattling in the ominous silence. Unlike Thomas, Bran didn’t slip to his knees. Once he stood in front of him, though, he bent at his knees – which cracked louder – and held his mitt out to the little boy.

     The wary man took a few seconds to decide himself, and then, hand swallowed by the jock’s, got scooped up and settled back on his feet.

     “… Thanks,” he breathed out. He had a bruise the side of his head, and that made Bran’s voice a bit deeper, cock swollen to an impressive -and quite painful- half-mast.

     “No worries, little dude.” Bran’s tummy growled again. A small silence set in, during which Bran felt Thomas’ eyes look up to his chin from the underside of his ballooning pecs. Then the little nerd took a breath and said, forced cheer in his voice;

     “So that was nice, but I guess I’ll just head out now”. A beat passed, and he shuddered at the sight of the obviously swollen monster and Bran’s deep cum-gutter’s growing veins. He stepped back.

     “I don’t think so.”

     Thomas froze again and gulped. “I-”

     “I think what’s going to happen is,” Bran stopped, a firm scowl on his face as an even louder rumble echoed through the room, “ ‘m gonna eat.” A pause. “you’ll keep me company.”

     Although Thomas visibly wilted, he tried;

     “It’s 3AM and I have work later!”

     Bran grinned sharply, grabbed him by the neck and simply said, almost teasingly, “I don’t give a fuck, dude.” And then, he rumbled, much darker, “You should have known better than to fuck with a man. Now get to cooking, bitch. I’m starving. You’re not leaving until I’m satisfied.”

     Bran pushed him toward the kitchen and slapped his slimy ass, making him yelp. Bran’s cock gave another awful jolt, and he grimaced down at it. Then he took another once over at the state his place was in and whistled hard. No wonder he was hella thirsty…

 

     The tiny kitchen was nestled in a corner, sandwiched between the wall dividing part of the main room into the entrance and a kitchenette. A crusty counter cut off most of the kitchen from the room, coming up to his navel. Right in front of Thomas and burrowed under the oven stood the fridge. Thomas, more than a little afraid, hurried to it, figuring the faster he’d get food made, the faster he’d be out. Grossed out by the sight of more seed coating what little stored food there was, and darkly amused at the thought of feeding that to the freak, he grabbed what he could. Thomas put a few eggs on the counter. Another trip and he brought back some tomato sauce and a container of vegetables. Absentmindedly, he licked his fingers clean of icy pre, and jumped when the big man’s voice rang out.

     “For fuck’s sake, dude, I’m a man, not some dainty little pussy trying to keep a diet.”

     Bran’s hoarse guttural voice rumbled through the kitchen, the cabinets shaking with his every steps. Thomas swallowed, and after a tense second, brought a few more eggs-

     “Are you dumb, little fucker? I need MORE.”, Bran barked grimly. Thomas rushed to bring out all the eggs and some beef.

     “That’s nowhere near enough.” Thomas could hear Bran’s stomach rumble, and he didn’t dare turn back, feeling the threatening, toweringbody at his back. He said, voice squeaking;

     “ I-I’m sorry, sir, th-there’s just nothing left…”

     The sweltering presence at his back muttered an almost whiny “Aw hell…” and then pressed itself against Thomas, squeezing the lower part of his belly against a counter. Thomas let out a manly noise of surprise, really, and grabbed on to the counter to avoid falling over on the stove.

     The little dude could feel the feverish heat of the man’s cock press against his bared skin, from the middle of his back and down below his ass, the head laying high on his thigh. Bran moved around and the can-like soft thickness spread his ass cheeks-- Thomas gasped, voice high – before Bran bent over him. Thomas had to go with the flow, and his ass spread more, the thick length now burning his hole – another breathy gasp, the man’s tortoise shell of a belly and his gross hose-like blood vessels pushing him down, closer to the stove. He was glad he hadn’t started cooking yet.

     Bran huffed a “Smells good” and pulled him up abruptly by his armpits, roughly supporting him well above the stove. Thomas’ eyes goggled. And then squeaked in surprise at the feeling of wide lips mouthing at his ears, his temples. A rough tongue licked his skin, and he realised Bran was… Lapping his own cum off his head.

     “Mmmh..”, moaned Bran, loud in Thomas’ ears. “You taste good…”

     Thomas’ balls tightened at the erotic massage, Bran’s lewd moans and slow tongue-bathing an unexpected aphrodisiac, adding itself to the mess inside his head. Bran was licking everywhere, from his neck up to his hair, uncaring of the random hair in his mouth, swallowing everything he could get inside.

     Thomas’s cock rose back up at the feeling of the cock below him swelling on his thighs and rising back up to spread his cheeks much farther than before. But that scared him more than anything else had so far; he had never liked dudes before, never even given a thought about how it’d be like to bang one, and… Things. Had happened tonight. Things he hadn’t EVER expected. The idea of getting that monstrous cock in was terrifyingly appealing, and he couldn’t-- He wouldn’t--

     Still, the searing cockhead pressed against his chute, feeling larger than a baseball ball, and he bucked his hips trying to get it away, pre belching out, already slicking his anus, thighs and rapidly dripping from his feet.

     Bran rumbled hard, and groaned louder, almost like a caverning bellow in Thomas’s panicked mind. His massive cock moved to press Thomas’ grapes up and finally popped in front of the smaller figure, feeling more like flesh and less like slick granite. Pre gushed out on the stove, and Bran’s muttered ‘oh fuck’ a litany ringing in his mind.

     Then he was abruptly put back on his feet, heaving breaths echoing in the room. He had to spread his legs to make room for the cock, which was now also pressing against the cabinet under the stove, pre dripping. Bran’s big mitt scooped up some pre on the stove, and he saw the dinner-plate like hands disappear behind round pecs above him. He was still sandwiched between Bran’s hulking bod and the stove, and it was getting painful. Something in Bran’s body cracked loud like a gun shot, and Bran moaned,

     “Ahh yess..”. Bran didn’t stop until there was no cum left on the counter. “… So good… Need more…”. Then, seemingly mindlessly, he pressed a wide palm down Thomas’s torso until he reached his small dick and brought that up to his face. And just like that, Thomas was freed, Bran heading for the sink. Thomas shuddered at the sight of Bran’s profile. The beefy dude had turned into a hulking monster, and was now ripped to shreds. The thick overgrown body, which had earlier so scared him with its dominating energy, had now somehow turned into a bigger one, skin so tight on his body it looked like it was about to snap, stretch marks spreading from every muscle groups. If that wasn’t terrifying enough, Bran seemed taller and wider; Thomas had trouble just seeing his eyes from a few steps away, the angle still making it difficult. Bran bent down, his beefy ass pushing against the cabinet behind him, and still he had trouble reaching the tap with his mouth. Bran grunted, now-visible eyes red and angry with thirst, and pushed until he could fit his mouth around the tap. Then Bran made the water run straight to his maw, his loud swallows echoing.

     Thomas couldn’t help but notice that Bran’s previous beefiness was gone, and the sight of his body was almost sickening in its dangerous definition and mess of writhing veins. This beast was too thin, he thought, He really needed to eat. Maybe feeding him into a food coma would be enough, Thomas thought, delirious at the idea. Maybe then he could leave. Or maybe it was him, imagining stuff that had always been true. He didn’t know anymore. A guy simply couldn’t grow just like that, after all, right?

     Maybe he was losing his mind after all, he was drooping, so much stress had piled up and-

     “ARE YOU FOR FUCKIN' REAL?”, roared Bran, red-faced, water gushing down his thinner face, and BANG! His fist went through the sink, more veins feasting on his biceps. Thomas felt a shock to his system, “I TOLD YOU TO FUCKING COOK, YOU STUPID BITCH”, a loud creak, a snap, and the cabinet’s door Bran’s gigantic glutes were pressed against fell down, “FUCKING GET TO IT”.

     But Thomas had already turned away, heart hammering against his rib cage, and he was opening cabinets after cabinets, looking for a big pan.

     “Fucking BITCH. I need FOOD, and I need it NOW.”

     Something crunched hard, and Thomas spared a glance to see the hand holding Bran’s weight had turned a good chunk of the counter to dust in the big man’s fury. More frightened than ever before, Thomas set on cooking. He wanted out, desperately, before he was hurt.

     “FUCK.”

     Soon after that, in the humid, scorching heat of the apartment, a mix of sounds echoed in the otherwise silent set of rooms. Dripping cum, gushing water, deep, almost desperate gulps echoed ominously. Above that, something cooked on a sizzling pan. And the scent of more food melted in the oppressive air.

     

[dredlifter]

All that raging testosterone is now starting to really affect Bran.  I hope for Thomas's sake that Bran can control it somewhat!  It's clear that little Thomas is powerless to the growing muscle beast and that fact is settling into Bran's brain. 

Great job again.  

[Ro20316]

I, gonna be honest.I hope this doesnt go the voreroute cause i am not a fan of that and i have to get it out of my chest.It's just i have a feeling and i hope im wrong.

Now onto the chapter.

Man he was getting dyhadrated real fast whatever is happening to him affects him in crazy ways.  There has to eb a balance somewhere but what would that balance be¿?

[W0lven]

Raging testosterone is not the whole answer ;) Aha thanks!

This story is not going vore -- though honestly I like some stories with that component, i would feel very uncomfortable at the idea of attempting to write some of those scenes. Part of what's happening here is Bran losing himself to, true enough, the need to satiate himself, but him licking off cum from Thomas isn't actually me slowly introducing Bran eating human flesh in any way, shape or forms. 

He's hungry for lots of other things right now~

[RockyDragon]

This is so insanely hot! I wish you describe his growth more and just how big he is..... I love the details but can't wait to see more!!! Vore is definitely something i do not wanna see. I do hope his hunger is more controlled so he won't be obssessed with feeding himself since it can basically block him from operating like normal. The growth is sooo hot for sure

[W0lven]

@RockyDragon  But I really like teasing you all with bits of description :3 Also there's not unhinged growth happening (yet). He's one hungry growing dude with several kinds of growing appetites to fill, don't worry!

A little shorter today, because midterms, confinmnent and deadlines are kicking my ass in a way I don't appreciate. 

Part 7
 

          When Bran finally rose up by the sink, his gut protruded so much he could see the deep grooves of his abs beyond his pecs without bending down to do so. Sighing in relief; no longer quite so thirsty, he patted his belly, amused at the sloshing water inside. The sounds of his plate-sized hands meeting hard damp flesh overwhelmed the song of his feast as it was being cooked. From the corner of his eyes, he saw his little cook jump, and he grinned and petted his now broader belly harder. Tiny Thomas visibly trembled, and Bran relished in that delicious fear. And realized he could easily see the crown of his hair. Thomas hadn’t been so small earlier, had he?… Bran took a quick look around – and up – made him aware of how tall he was now.

          Whereas before he’d been among the taller men in his group of peers – and he remembered he had always been taller than Thomas –, now he could see the accumulated dust over some of the furniture, which he had been unable to see before. Hell, his head was inches from touching the ceiling. That was so fucking hot he growled, the sound a deep rumble shaking the room. His next breath derailed his train of thought; the smell of food was suddenly overwhelming. His gut, despite being full of water, cramped tight; terrible hunger had him in its grasp. Bran sniffed hard, drool dropping from his maw, and stomped until his gut pressed Thomas tight, encasing him in throbbing muscles.

          “Smells good.”

          Bran could feel the tiny man shake against him, the shape of his back feeling particularly fragile, almost... weak. Bran’s cock twitched. But the thought didn’t hold. Instead, Bran’s broad tongue slicked his lips, eyes focused on the food. One pan was overflowing with eggs and vegetables mixed together, another was full of pasta and some kind of sauce that smelled heavenly to Bran. The rice-cooker was doing its thing, and a good amount of frozen food stood on the rest of the counters, and Bran couldn’t stop himself. He was starving. With no thought to his own safety, he brought his huge hand to the burning pan, biceps pushing Thomas to the side even as he gasped in surprise, tore-off a thick amount of still-cooking frittata and put it in his wide-open maw. A low growl of pleasure shook the cabinets and the glasses in the room. Fast, the sound of the big beast gulping down his snack echoed.

          Egg yolk had dropped on Thomas’ shoulder, and Bran rubbed a thick finger to get at it. He licked his hand clean, and muttered, well above Thomas’s head, even as Thomas gaped at him.

          “Mmhh tasty… You’re good, little fucker. Keep goin’.”

          And then Bran took the pan with him, a hand cupping it despite the dangerous heat. He sprawled on the couch – something snapped, and Bran listed to the side – and, too impatient to find a fork or a knife, put the pan on his naked hairy thighs, wet skin hissing, grabbed the still-sizzling food in his hands and devoured it, cords of drool mixing in the pan below. Bran gulped down his food, thinned out cheeks stretching to accommodate the volume of food he pushed in his mouth, gut expanding and bits of his meal falling and getting stuck in his disgusting pubes. Once he was finished with this pan, he barked for more, hunger burning in his glare.

          Thomas brought the next pan as fast as he could, struggling with a cooking pot full of pasta and a sauce pan full of bologna sauce. As soon as he was in reach, Bran yanked the pot out of his hand, spread his legs wide, set it between his thighs and held it tight; even spread as far as he could go, his ass and thighs was too big for the couch and left no place on the couch to support even a part of the pot. Bran huffed and turned his body once again to tear the sauce pan out of Thomas’ hands, cock and balls splayed wide around and under the hot pot, wet skin hissing strongly in the room. As he did, his muscled body flexed to support his movements, and the pot creaked and deformed under the strain of his steely muscled thighs. Bran emptied the sauce-pan on his pasta, gave back the two empty pans and growled in irritation at seeing the little man still standing there, for more. As Thomas ran back to the kitchen units and obeyed, the bigger male pigged out on his meal, spaghetti and sauce dropping on his thighs, gut and dripping from his beard and pecs. His hands were tomato red despite the tan skin. Ecstatic grunts and deepening moans tore through the air. When the large pot was almost emptied out, Bran brought it to his maw and made sure all that was left slid into his gullet without chewing.

          “More!” he rasped out. Bran’s heartbeat pounded in his ears, a rush of something indescribable roaring through his body, his cock hard and the glans pressing against the underside of his pecs despite his growing gut.

          The aroma of beef cooking floated in the air when Bran finished his next meal; rice with some cream made thicker, and in Bran’s opinion, made tastier with pre as it had drenched the rice. He lifted that pan to his face, nose pressed against the warm material, huge tongue rapping the metal as he collected everything he could, nose sniffing hard. But when he was done, no new meal was waiting for his attention on the couch.

          Grumbling under his breath, he stood up and walked to the kitchen, huge legs crashing into the low table in front of him. It fell on its side in a cacophony of noise, but Bran didn’t give a shit, annoyance beating in the monstrous veins nourishing his gigantic frame. Once in the kitchen, he pushed Thomas against the counter and crushed him against it with his cobra-like lats and thicker than normal humans’ legs’ arms to get at the food. He tore a piece of meat off –chicken leg, maybe – put it in his mouth, whole, and crushed the meat and bone into pulp. He scowled at Thomas for the taste – the meat hadn’t had the time to be well-cooked and Thomas shuddered harder, almost pissing himself. Then Bran, too hungry to wait, picked the meat pieces by pieces and gobbled them all, pre gushing down his abs and washing away the food detritus. He turned his ferocious attention to the still-frozen foods, aware of movements behind him, and they got the same treatment.

          When he was done, he went through the whole kitchen, gnashing his teeth, frustration boiling in his veins, as he realized all the food was gone. He let out a long, angry “fuuuuck”, then turned his attention to Thomas. And finally noticed his absence.

          “Oh you little fucker,” he muttered, angry. He heard noises from the entrance and lumbered there. Once there, he stopped, the spectacle in front of him arousing him.

          Standing in Bran’s humongous shadow, Thomas was desperately trying to open the door, shaking it and turning the doorknob wildly, hissing “C’mon, c’mon” and hurried insults. What held Bran’s attention, though, was Thomas’ lithe cum-stained naked body as it moved, pale ass cheeks shining like a beacon to Bran’s appreciative gaze. Bran’s balls felt suddenly quite full and needful of a good long hard fuck. Or more…

          After a few seconds, Thomas froze in place. Bran grinned, heat in his gaze, and with deceptive, dangerous warmth, growled out a deep,

          “And where do you think you’re going, my little bitch?”

          And as Bran slowly advanced on his prey, blanketing the wall around his slut in growing shadows with each stomp, Thomas's breath hitched...

[somethingorother]

this is really good i hope you make more but if you feel burnt out thats fine just don't take too long of a hiatus and forget about this like other series