Impulsive wish
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 7
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Blitzo's brain short-circuited, synapses firing like fireworks in a dumpster. Three wishes? Power unbound? His violet eyes glazed over, fixating on that one word: wishes. The rest—Stolas's smug aristocratic drawl, the towering muscle-god vibe, the faint metallic scent of ancient malice—faded into static. Recklessness surged through him like cheap tequila; why the fuck not? He'd always dreamed of it, jerked off to photoshopped pics of his head on roided-out hulks. "Fine, you oversized smoke show," he snarled, voice cracking with bravado. "First wish: Make me a heavily muscled, feminine, androgynous sexy bodybuilder. Huge, shredded, unstoppable. Do it!"
Stolas's gold-painted lips split into a wicked grin, pointed teeth glinting like daggers. His red-slit eyes dilated, raking over Blitzo with raw hunger. Beneath that low-slung golden sarong, his cock stirred visibly, thickening against the shiny fabric. Oh, this one has fire, Stolas thought, a thrill coiling in his ancient gut. Mortals were usually sniveling worms, but this brazen little peacock? Delicious. "Mon petit désastre," he purred, voice theatrical and laced with innuendo. "As you wish. But remember, darling—power like this comes with... strings." He stepped back gracefully, one long, gold-clawed finger extending like a conductor's baton. A crackle of electric blue energy sparked at the tip, arcing toward Blitzo in a sizzling bolt.
The current slammed into Blitzo's chest like a freight train of ecstasy. He gasped, body arching off the couch as heat exploded through every nerve. "Christ on a stick—fuck!" Pleasure hit first, a tidal wave that made his pierced cock throb instantly hard against the vinyl pants. His skin tingled, then burned deliciously, like a full-body orgasm building from the inside out. Muscles twitched, then surged. His slender arms thickened, biceps ballooning from wiry tension to cannonballs of veined power, triceps hardening into horseshoe slabs that ripped through the mesh crop top's sleeves with a satisfying shrrrip. Shoulders broadened, deltoids rounding into boulder-like caps, traps rising like mountains to frame his neck. He moaned, deep and guttural, one hand flying to his chest as pecs swelled—flat lean muscle exploding into thick, shelf-like plates, the pierced nipple stretching taut over the new mass.
The transformation accelerated, waves of bliss pulsing through him. His abs clenched, the faint outline of a six-pack erupting into an eight-pack of brick-hard ridges, obliques carving deep V-lines that funneled down to his groin. Quads and hamstrings bloated, thighs inflating like overpumped balloons, splitting the vinyl pants at the seams with explosive pops. Calves diamonded into heart-shaped knots. His back widened into a dramatic V-taper, lats flaring like wings, tearing the rest of the top to shreds. Glutes rounded and hardened into steel bubbles, the pants finally giving way entirely, fabric fluttering to the floor like defeated flags. He was left naked, bronze skin—still slick with oil—now stretched over a hypertrophied frame, every inch shredded with vascularity and striations that screamed peak condition. His face stayed sharp and feminine—high cheekbones, wide lavender lips, huge violet eyes—but now framed by a body that blended androgynous grace with raw, sensual power. His cock, thick and pierced, stood rigid, veins pulsing in time with the changes.
The pleasure was unbearable, erotic fire coiling in his core. Blitzo writhed on the couch, long purple nails raking over his new pecs, pinching the hardened nipple piercing. "Oh fuck—yes—more!" he groaned, voice husky and theatrical, hips bucking involuntarily. One hand dropped to his throbbing dick, stroking frantically as the final surges hit—forearms thickening with ropey veins, neck corded like cables. The orgasm built like a supernova, every muscle fiber igniting in euphoric agony. He screamed, back arching, cum erupting in thick ropes that splattered his chiseled abs and the couch. Wave after wave crashed through him, body convulsing in bliss until he collapsed, panting, spent.
Minutes blurred. Blitzo pushed himself up on trembling arms—now massive, veined pythons—and staggered to the full-length mirror by the door. Holy shit. He was a god: 6'2" of feminine-androgynous perfection, muscles bulging yet sleek, shredded to the bone with paper-thin skin over vascular highways. He flexed, watching biceps peak like mountains, abs crunching into armored plates. His fingers—still long and manicured—traced the deep cuts of his serratus, down the Adonis belt to his still-hard cock. "Fuck me," he whispered, turning to admire the flared lats and bubble ass. Power thrummed in him, superior, sexy, everything he'd envied. His violet eyes burned with hunger as they locked on Stolas.
The genie was riveted, his own cock tenting the sarong obscenely, red eyes glowing with lust. "Magnifique," Stolas breathed, theatrical flair amping up as he struck a dramatic pose, one claw trailing down his pale, shredded torso. "Look at you, my muscled minx. So dominant, so deliciously cruel. Come, darling—ravish me like the god you are. Pound this eternal scourge into submission!" He flung himself back onto the bed with exaggerated grace, sarong slipping off to reveal his massive, throbbing length, legs spreading invitingly.
Blitzo charged like a bull, newfound muscles propelling him forward. He pinned Stolas down, massive hands gripping those ghostly-white hips. "You're mine now, you smug fuck," he growled, slamming into him with raw force. The sex was wild, primal—Blitzo dominating every thrust, pounding deep while Stolas moaned theatrically, claws raking Blitzo's back. "Yes—harder, mon amour! Break me!" Positions flipped in a frenzy: Blitzo on top, then flipping Stolas to all fours, muscles flexing with each brutal drive. Stolas's forked tongue lolled, eyes rolling in submissive ecstasy as Blitzo claimed him utterly.
They collapsed side by side, sweat-slicked and spent. Blitzo pulled Stolas in for a deep kiss—wet, messy, tongues battling like serpents. He shoved his into Stolas's mouth, exploring every inch, saliva mixing in sloppy strands. Finally, they broke apart, gasping, thick ropes of drool stretching between their lips like bridges of lust.
Blitzo smirked, already plotting his next wish. This was just the beginning.
Blitzo...
Stolas's gold-painted lips split into a wicked grin, pointed teeth glinting like daggers. His red-slit eyes dilated, raking over Blitzo with raw hunger. Beneath that low-slung golden sarong, his cock stirred visibly, thickening against the shiny fabric. Oh, this one has fire, Stolas thought, a thrill coiling in his ancient gut. Mortals were usually sniveling worms, but this brazen little peacock? Delicious. "Mon petit désastre," he purred, voice theatrical and laced with innuendo. "As you wish. But remember, darling—power like this comes with... strings." He stepped back gracefully, one long, gold-clawed finger extending like a conductor's baton. A crackle of electric blue energy sparked at the tip, arcing toward Blitzo in a sizzling bolt.
The current slammed into Blitzo's chest like a freight train of ecstasy. He gasped, body arching off the couch as heat exploded through every nerve. "Christ on a stick—fuck!" Pleasure hit first, a tidal wave that made his pierced cock throb instantly hard against the vinyl pants. His skin tingled, then burned deliciously, like a full-body orgasm building from the inside out. Muscles twitched, then surged. His slender arms thickened, biceps ballooning from wiry tension to cannonballs of veined power, triceps hardening into horseshoe slabs that ripped through the mesh crop top's sleeves with a satisfying shrrrip. Shoulders broadened, deltoids rounding into boulder-like caps, traps rising like mountains to frame his neck. He moaned, deep and guttural, one hand flying to his chest as pecs swelled—flat lean muscle exploding into thick, shelf-like plates, the pierced nipple stretching taut over the new mass.
The transformation accelerated, waves of bliss pulsing through him. His abs clenched, the faint outline of a six-pack erupting into an eight-pack of brick-hard ridges, obliques carving deep V-lines that funneled down to his groin. Quads and hamstrings bloated, thighs inflating like overpumped balloons, splitting the vinyl pants at the seams with explosive pops. Calves diamonded into heart-shaped knots. His back widened into a dramatic V-taper, lats flaring like wings, tearing the rest of the top to shreds. Glutes rounded and hardened into steel bubbles, the pants finally giving way entirely, fabric fluttering to the floor like defeated flags. He was left naked, bronze skin—still slick with oil—now stretched over a hypertrophied frame, every inch shredded with vascularity and striations that screamed peak condition. His face stayed sharp and feminine—high cheekbones, wide lavender lips, huge violet eyes—but now framed by a body that blended androgynous grace with raw, sensual power. His cock, thick and pierced, stood rigid, veins pulsing in time with the changes.
The pleasure was unbearable, erotic fire coiling in his core. Blitzo writhed on the couch, long purple nails raking over his new pecs, pinching the hardened nipple piercing. "Oh fuck—yes—more!" he groaned, voice husky and theatrical, hips bucking involuntarily. One hand dropped to his throbbing dick, stroking frantically as the final surges hit—forearms thickening with ropey veins, neck corded like cables. The orgasm built like a supernova, every muscle fiber igniting in euphoric agony. He screamed, back arching, cum erupting in thick ropes that splattered his chiseled abs and the couch. Wave after wave crashed through him, body convulsing in bliss until he collapsed, panting, spent.
Minutes blurred. Blitzo pushed himself up on trembling arms—now massive, veined pythons—and staggered to the full-length mirror by the door. Holy shit. He was a god: 6'2" of feminine-androgynous perfection, muscles bulging yet sleek, shredded to the bone with paper-thin skin over vascular highways. He flexed, watching biceps peak like mountains, abs crunching into armored plates. His fingers—still long and manicured—traced the deep cuts of his serratus, down the Adonis belt to his still-hard cock. "Fuck me," he whispered, turning to admire the flared lats and bubble ass. Power thrummed in him, superior, sexy, everything he'd envied. His violet eyes burned with hunger as they locked on Stolas.
The genie was riveted, his own cock tenting the sarong obscenely, red eyes glowing with lust. "Magnifique," Stolas breathed, theatrical flair amping up as he struck a dramatic pose, one claw trailing down his pale, shredded torso. "Look at you, my muscled minx. So dominant, so deliciously cruel. Come, darling—ravish me like the god you are. Pound this eternal scourge into submission!" He flung himself back onto the bed with exaggerated grace, sarong slipping off to reveal his massive, throbbing length, legs spreading invitingly.
Blitzo charged like a bull, newfound muscles propelling him forward. He pinned Stolas down, massive hands gripping those ghostly-white hips. "You're mine now, you smug fuck," he growled, slamming into him with raw force. The sex was wild, primal—Blitzo dominating every thrust, pounding deep while Stolas moaned theatrically, claws raking Blitzo's back. "Yes—harder, mon amour! Break me!" Positions flipped in a frenzy: Blitzo on top, then flipping Stolas to all fours, muscles flexing with each brutal drive. Stolas's forked tongue lolled, eyes rolling in submissive ecstasy as Blitzo claimed him utterly.
They collapsed side by side, sweat-slicked and spent. Blitzo pulled Stolas in for a deep kiss—wet, messy, tongues battling like serpents. He shoved his into Stolas's mouth, exploring every inch, saliva mixing in sloppy strands. Finally, they broke apart, gasping, thick ropes of drool stretching between their lips like bridges of lust.
Blitzo smirked, already plotting his next wish. This was just the beginning.
Blitzo...
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June 13
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