Broadening Ken's Horizons - Chapter 13 - Lucky Thirteen
Just a reminder - do not read this if you are not old enough to. You know who you are.
After Tank and I were invited into Tank's parents' house, I sat and listened as Tank caught his parents up with the story he had related to me earlier in the bar. Tank's father maintained an expression of understanding of all the events. His mother's face showed several different levels of emotion.
Tank had gone ahead and described my own particular plight with the pills, with my permission of course. Obviously, he left out details regarding changes to our sexual equipment. His father seemed to understand both our situations well, asking intelligent and thought-provoking questions during the entire discussion.
"So, Ken, you've actually stopped taking the pills?" Tank's father asked.
"That's right," I replied. "Tank, er, Ben suggested that I stop when I started noticing some of the same side effects that he had initially seen himself."
"Well, you seem to be at a crucial turning point right now," Tank's father continued. "Are you wanting to continue to transform into a fur, or remain human?" I glanced over at Tank before answering.
"To be honest, and no offense to Ben, I would rather stay human," I replied. Tank smiled and nodded his agreement. "If nothing else, changing my identity would be expensive and difficult."
"I agree," Tank's father continued. "You said that a specialist was going to look at you, right? Any idea if he can do anything?"
"No idea," I replied. "I haven't seen him yet."
"Will the appointments be expensive?" Tank's father asked. "This sounds like something that probably wouldn't be practical to claim on health insurance."
"I'm not sure about that, either, yet," I replied honestly.
"Well, if you find the cost too prohibitive, you just let me know," Tank's father said. "You seem like a very mature and kind person. Plus, if Ben claims you as his best friend..."
"Oh, no, I couldn't ask you to pay my medical bills," I replied. "I appreciate the generous offer, but this is something I did on my own free will, so it is only fitting I pay the consequences on my own."
"Well, the offer stands regardless," he continued. "If nothing else, would you keep us up to date on any progress? You see, if this specialist is any good..." his voice trailed off. He looked down at the floor, wringing his hands together for several seconds.
"What is it, dear?" Tank's mother asked, as she leaned over to check on his father. I saw her wipe his cheek with her finger as if wiping away a tear. Finally, Tank's father looked up. His eyes were wet.
"If he's any good," his father repeated. "Maybe he can help change my Bennie back to a human." He looked back down and started sobbing. Tank's mother wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly.
I looked over at Tank. He was looking down at the floor, as well, his hand shielding his face from view. I walked over and stood beside him and started gently rubbing his back.
"Is that something you would want?" I quietly asked Tank? "I mean, if you could?"
Tank's parents both looked up at Tank, waiting for an answer. He sobbed quietly for a couple of minutes, still looking down at the floor. Slowly, he lifted his head, wiping away his tears.
"Yes," he replied. "I'd give anything to be human again."
Both of Tank's parents jumped up and ran over to hug Tank. I joined in the group, as well.
Eventually, after all the emotions subsided, we went to the kitchen and discussed plans over some drinks. I was going to proceed with my original plan of staying at Tom's place so that the specialist could see me there. If my results were favorable, then I would bring the specialist over to Tank's parents' house so he could give an assessment on whether Tank could be transformed back to a human or not.
I left late in the evening, driving Tank's truck back to the apartment. It was quiet when I got back, so I carefully opened up the hide-a-bed and laid down to catch some much-needed sleep. I heard Tom's bedroom door quietly shut.
"Ken?" Tom whispered.
"Yeah," I whispered back.
"I guess you were probably with Tank? I saw his truck was gone."
"Yes. He needed to talk."
"OK. Roger and I had a long talk, as well. He told me the whole story. I'm going to arrange for him to get some professional help. Poor kid's had a rough life. We called the hospital to change his statement to say the incident was consensual sex."
"Good," I replied, relieved that the truth was out. "I was worried about that. It could come back to haunt Roger or especially Tank in the future."
"I agree," Tom said as he sat on the arm of the couch. "How is Tank handling it? Is he OK?"
"He's fine. He felt uncomfortable facing you or Roger for a while, so he's staying with...friends for a while."
"I don't blame him. Let him know we still care about him. Once we get Roger straightened out a bit, maybe he will come back."
"Maybe," I replied. I stopped before I raised any suspicion, then changed the subject. "Did you call that specialist?"
"Oh, yes," Tom answered. "Glad you asked. He is stopping by here first thing in the morning. Get some good sleep so you'll be fresh. Need a wake-up call?"
"Yes," I said. "Get me up in time to take a shower."
"Sure thing," he said as he stood up and walked back towards his room. "'night."
"'night" I answered back. I fell into a sound sleep almost immediately. It had been a very long and emotional day.
The next morning, Tom got me up as requested. I headed to the bathroom to relieve myself and grab a shower. I was so tired the night before that I hadn't even undressed, so I stripped down in the bathroom. While the shower warmed up, I took a quick assessment of my condition in the mirror.
My arms and legs were still furry. My cock was dangling limply, swinging gently against my legs. I decided to measure it later, if the specialist didn't do it. My balls looked about the same. I couldn't tell about my height. The taller ceilings in the apartment skewed perspective a bit. I shrugged and climbed on into the shower.
After my shower, I dressed comfortably, had some breakfast and folded up the couch. I sat down on the couch to watch TV. After a few minutes, I heard a knock on the door. Before I got up to answer it, Tom appeared and opened the door.
"Stewart!" Tom exclaimed. "How have you been? Thanks for coming over. Here is your patient, Ken."
I rose to greet Stewart, turned and shook his hand. He was a human, and a fairly young one at that. I had my doubts about a 'specialist' that hardly looked old enough to be out of high school. Tom realized this, too, so he offered up an explanation.
"Stewart is in the advanced PhD program at the university's genetics research lab," Tom explained. "He has done a lot of amazing research in the areas of fur genetics and inter-species breeding. I've lost count of how many papers he has published. This is one brilliant guy. Don't let his looks fool you. I'll leave you two to business - I have to get to the office."
"Thanks, Tom," I replied, feeling more comfortable about Stewart already.
Stewart set a backpack down on the floor and pulled out a tablet computer, turning it on and tapping around on the screen for a minute, then looked up at me.
"Tom filled me in, somewhat, on your current symptoms," he explained. "For my notes, I'd like to get some baseline stats from before you started taking the pills, and any progressive measurements you have taken along the way. I'll then follow up with measurements of where you are now. That way, I can get a graph of the growth to date and plot future stats against that to see how any treatments are affecting you. Make sense?"
"Uhm, sure," I agreed.
"OK, before you started, what were your stats - the ones you are aware of, that is?" he asked as he poised his fingers above the screen of his computer, ready to type in the information.
"I was six feet tall, weighed 185 pounds and had a 34 inch waist," I replied.
"And?" Stewart asked.
"And what?" I replied.
"Tom said that your genitals had been affected, too. Do you happen to know the approximate measurements before the changes?"
"Oh, right. My cock was about seven and a half inches long. Not sure how to measure my balls, but I could about cup both of them in one hand. Can't tell you how thick my cock was, other than it was about this big around," I answered, holding up a hand with my finger and thumb creating a circle approximately the circumference of my cock back then.
He noted those measurements on his computer. I filled him in on any others I could remember taking over the past several weeks, along with approximate dates.
"OK," he said after finishing his typing. "Let's take some measurements today. Do you know if Tom has a scale here?"
"Yes," I replied, jumping up from the couch. "I'll get it."
I brought it back and stepped on it. We both looked down at the digits on the display.
"286 pounds," Stewart announced as he noted that on the computer. "Stand against the wall and I'll get your height."
He stretched out a tape measure from the floor to a pencil mark we made at the top of my head.
"Six feet, nine inches," he read off the tape, noting that in the computer as well. "You'll have to, uhm, drop your pants for the next part."
I pulled off my pants and shorts, letting my limp cock and heavy balls swing free. I could tell that Stewart was trying to be polite and not stare, but he wasn't doing a very good job of it.
"OK, hmm," he started. "Not really a good method for measuring your balls, I mean your testicles, but it will have to do." He slowly reached forward with one hand and gently lifted up on of my balls in his hand, gently wrapping his fingers around it to get an idea of the size, then slowly hefting it up and down to get a rough idea of the weight.
I couldn't help myself, watching him hold each of my heavy balls in his hand, one at a time. My cock started to slowly lengthen right in front of his face. He tried not to look up at me, but I could see him blushing slightly. He finally let go and sat back to type on his computer, stealing an occasional nervous glance at my cock. It was still growing. I figured if we were going to be measuring it next, I was going to have to be erect anyway.
"Stewart. Out of curiosity, are you straight?" I asked him, smiling my most disarming smile.
"What? Oh, yes, I am," he replied. "Sorry, it's just that I haven't seen a penis that, uh, big before. On a human, that is. Well, at all, really."
He leaned forward again, this time holding the tape measure stretched out several inches between his hands. I smiled as he fumbled with it, trying to measure my semi-erect cock without touching it. I let him fumble about for a bit, slowly leaning closer so he wouldn't have to reach so far. Finally, he gave up and looked up at me pleadingly.
"Can you do it?" he asked. "I'm sorry, I just can't."
"Sure," I replied, taking the tape measure from him. I looked down at my cock, still only partially erect, gently curving down in front of Stewart's face. He was trying hard not to stare at it.
"Shouldn't it be erect before I take the measurement?" I asked.
"Oh, yes, right. It should," he stuttered, looking up at me, then back down at my cock. His mouth was only a couple inches away from the head.
I noticed that his mouth was open ever so slightly. I took that as a cue and leaned forward slowly until my cockhead was just millimeters from his lips. Stewart responded by slowly opening his mouth as I approached, then slowly raised a hand to my cock, stopping briefly before he touched it.
Stewart glanced up at me, seeing my warm smile. He looked back down and gently wrapped his fingers around my thick shaft. He opened his mouth wide and slowly brought the head up to his lips, finally leaning forward and pushing my entire cockhead into his mouth.
I closed my eyes and moaned, which urged him on. He reached up with his other hand and, after a minute or two, was sucking my cock like his life depended on it. He kept stopping to lick the precum out of my slit, which was driving me insane. After several minutes, I realized we had better measure this thing before I blew my load, which we probably should measure as well.
"Hold on a second," I said, pulling Stewart off my raging cock. "Let's get the measurement out of the way. Why don't you get more comfortable while I go get a container to measure my cum?"
"Oh, I brought something for that," he said as he dug down into his backpack. He pulled out a small 50 mL beaker.
"Uh, no, that's way too small," I laughed, starting towards the kitchen. I looked back and he was staring at me dumb-founded. "Just get undressed. I don't want to mess up your clothes."
I walked back into the living room carrying a four cup measuring cup. Stewart had just finished undressing and stopped when he saw what I was carrying. The look on his face was priceless.
I set the cup down next to the couch and picked up the tape measure, stretching it down the length of my cock. Stewart looked down at it with me.
"Thirteen inches," he announced. "Uh, how about the girth?" He was fumbling around for his computer as I wrapped the tape around my hard shaft. I waited until he stopped typing.
"Seven and three quarter inches," I called out.
He quickly typed that in and tossed the computer into the chair. He was back on my cock in seconds, sucking it furiously. I reached down to his hard cock, maybe six inches long, and gently wrapped my hand around it, slowly jacking it off. He was already leaking precum pretty heavily, so I smeared it all over his shaft.
After several minutes, I was about to blow my load, so I grudgingly put a halt to the action again.
"Here it comes," I panted, pulling Stewart off my throbbing cock and grabbing the measuring cup.
I held the cup under my cockhead with one hand and jacked myself off with the other until I came. Stewart was jacking his own cock at the same time. I blew several long streams of cum into the cup while Stewart watched, his mouth open in amazement. Just before I finished, I saw him spasm and close his eyes, shooting a couple of small ropes of cum onto the floor. Once we were both done and had caught our breath, I handed him the measuring cup. He held it in front of his face to read off the measurement.
"Right at three cups," he said, incredulously. "Or about 48 ounces." He sat down and typed that into his computer, then turned it off and put it away.
He stood back up and looked at me for a few seconds, then down at his naked body, blushing slightly as he did. He turned around, grabbed his underwear and pulled them on.
"Uhm, I probably better get back to the lab," he stuttered nervously. "I need to download all this data into my desktop computer." He continued dressing as he spoke.
"Sure you can't stay for lunch?" I asked, somewhat teasingly.
"Uh, I'd love to, but I have a 1 o'clock class," he apologized. He was fully dressed now and was swinging his backpack onto his shoulder and heading towards the door. I was carrying the measuring cup to the kitchen to pour it down the sink.
"Need any of this?" I asked, holding up the container.
"Oh, yeah, I do. I'd like to run some tests on it," he said and headed to the kitchen.
I poured a little into the beaker that he had brought with him. He put a stopper in it and carefully packed it back in his backpack.
"You know, there's nothing wrong with what happened here this morning," I stated.
"I know," he replied. "I guess." He shrugged and turned, walking out the door.
I finished cleaning up in the kitchen and went into the living room and pulled on my clothes.
"Nothing wrong?" Roger asked. He was standing in the hallway entrance with his arms crossed, glaring at me.
"What?" I asked, somewhat confused.
"I know Stewart from the university," he continued. "He's probably the straightest person in the world. Hell, he's even married and has a baby at home."
"Look," I explained. "I've met a lot of straight guys in my life who have either blown me, or I've blown them. We got dressed afterwards and they went home to their wives or girlfriends just like nothing happened. I don't see any big deal here."
"I don't know," Roger thought for a bit. "It's just that...well, you're old enough to be his father." Roger turned and ran back to Tom's room and slammed the door, locking it behind him.