|« PREV||INDEX||NEXT »|
Legacy, The (2000)
|This was a story written when I was experimenting with first-person writing, as inspired by FanTCman(dude). Short, but sweet.|
|"Delivery for Doctor Weissbach."
I turned in my chair, muscles creaking and joints popping at the sudden activity. A day at the terminal, an hour at the chiropractor, I thought to myself. The mailman stood at the door, his face unusually flushed, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
"Howdy Augie. That was a quick order."
"Don't think it's your usual, Doc. This is direct from the airport. Someone must have greased a few palms to get it here." He wheeled his dolly into the room, a huge oak chest precariously balanced on the end of it. "You know anyone in Germany?"
"That's where my family's from originally," I said, staring curiously as he thudded the giant box to the floor. "But where…….."
"Don't know," he said, wiping his brow. "Can't read the label. Sign here." I printed my name, finishing up with my flourishing signature. He looked at it and grinned. "How do you say your first name?"
"Very funny, Augie. John will do fine," I said, blushing. Why my parents had named me Johann was anyone's guess, but was nobody's business anyway. "See you around….and thanks".
"No prob, Doc. Have fun."
His footsteps echoed down the hall as I walked over to the box. A large ornate lock held together a series of steel bands wrapped around the ancient wood. A parchment envelope was attached to the varnished top, my name written in ornate German script on it. A musty smell filled the air as I opened it, quickly scanning and translating the ornate writing. A small bronze key clinked to the floor. "This to be sent to Dr. Johann Weissbach, the last heir of the fortune therein. Spare no expense. Open immediately upon arrival."
Fortune indeed. I pushed the key into the lock, my knuckles whitening with the effort as the rust resisted being opened. The lock sprung open, the lid rising before my surprised eyes, to reveal…..
"This is a FORTUNE???"
Nothing but an old bag greeted my eyes, the rest of the voluminous space unoccupied. I reached down and pulled it out, feeling it sag. I quickly undid the top, only to be rewarded with a view of what looked like table salt gone bad, big clumpy crystals of white. Great, I thought. What an inheritance. Well, the material analyzer's up and running….let's see what it is. I poured the bag out in my hand, strange tingle running through my fingers as I carried it over to the humming machine in the corner. Slide it in, tap, tap…….what the heck! "Material unknown"? I reran the sample. Same result.
Well, this is strange. Setting up the videocamera so I had a record of the procedure, I took the crystals out of the analyzer. One beaker, a bit of distilled water……my mouth dropped as the beaker filled. Instantly the water changed to a verdant purple, bubbling slightly, the scent of it somehow intoxicating, the substance dissolving into nothingness.
I stared at the beaker. I'll just run it through the….mouth, I suddenly thought, as I caught a whiff of the vapors. Drink it. Now. I shook my head. What in the heck was I thinking….you shouldn't ever….drink it NOW. Blindly, I tipped the glass to my lips and drank the contents down, chugging it like a pitcher of beer. My mouth tingled, tastebuds doing a little dance of pleasure as it slid down my throat. Mmmm….
Oh jeez……body heating. So hot in here. Ow….my neck cricked. Ow…cramp in my leg….can't stand up….everything so hazy…..oh fuuucckkkk….nooo….what's happening…….cloth tearing, fuck, cold air…..feels so good….ahhhHHHHHHHH!
God, I feel good. Look at my arms….always loved to watch them cord up. Oh yeahh….look at that bicep, like bread dough. No shirt can handle these. 'Sides, then you couldn't see that nice fur. I rubbed up and down my chest, breath shortening as my strong hands stroked over my quarter-sized nips, my chest hair thick and dark. My fingers snuck down to my beautiful ass, rubbing it, then probing it, my cock rising to attention, tightening myself…….yeahhh, make it rub those nice abs, see that head flare. Fuck, look at that camera….let's make some poses. First arms, then lats, most muscular, look at those fucking legs, steel cords everywhere, pulsing with power….muscle bulls over muscle feet, gawd I am so fucking sexy….stroke off that cock, pull it hard, love those twelve inches, squeeze those grapefruit balls….oh fuck yeah, drift back, fist…..unhhh unnhhhh…roar fucker roar….UNHHHHHHHH!!!!! Jizz on the camera, on the walls, pooling around my floor, oh yeah……that'll hold me for ten.
Let's see it on the replay. Look at that little geek….sitting there at his bench, little puny bastard…no tan, no chest, no ass, little hairless wisp of a man. Pussy. Couldn't get fucked with a hundred dollar bill up his ass. Even if he would come far enough out of the closet. He's taking that drink……clutching his stomach, watch him grimace, hear those queeny screams…..fuck it's getting good. Look at that lab coat bunch, buttons flying off it……yeah, turn, so we can see that sweet ass grow…..open up, baby. Arms pumping up, look at those veins flood with blood, so long shirt….delts the first to tear through, bowling balls capping those glider lats, coat ripping to shreds….feet savaging shoes like animals, watch them calves fucking grow their way out, tear down that pant fence, boys…..that little paunch melting, abs popping out like washboard mushrooms, clothes in shreds and heaps….something's still missing.
Ohh fuck yeah! Whities getting tighty, elastic snapping, bulge getting huger and huger, cock popping out like an anaconda, red hot head, gnarly and veiny….c'mon nuts, pop it loose, bigger, bigger, tear it apart….pump full of man-power, fur growing everywhere, spreading out in tight swirls, nice and brown, a man-stache, a man-beard, look at that fricking bear….look at him pose, can't believe he didn't short the camera out….yeah, stroke it buddy, fucking shoot! YEAH!
That's all for the day, viewers. I'm heading out to get some meat. The bear's on the prowl….
|« PREV||INDEX||NEXT »|
This collection was originally created as a compressed archive for personal offline viewing
and is not intended to be hosted online or presented in any commercial context.
Any webmaster choosing to host or mirror this archive online
does so at their sole discretion.
Archive Version 070326