Big Dragon

"Now to make you a lover." Now here Morgan just grinned from ear to ear.

The ring glowed again. Slowly like a python slipping down a vine Big Dragon's petite member started getting heavier and heavier until it dangled between his knees as heavy as lead, expanding in girth and length like an animal balloon inflating. At last, his big beefy zucchini terminated its growth, the head dangled nearly between his knees, flopping and tapping either inside thigh when he moved. More important, his balls started to gurgle and fill up with virile, hot seed, shifting inside their contents, each ball the size of an orange.

His endowment was accompanied by various modifications, sexual in nature: his tongue lengthened and became like a Gila Monster's. And with her ring, Morgan beamed lovemaking knowledge from the Kama Sutra, to cyclotronic cunnilingus.

Morgan concentrated. "Now to make you a man." She said. With a blast from the ring, he went from a dopey teenager to a 26 year old adult. Morgan scratched her head wondering about the ramifications of something so retroactive. Finally she decided to make Big Dragon's Mother his spinster older sister, and his grandparents Big Dragon's adopted American family.

"Hmmm, now to make you a winner." She said. "Okay, first, you are a millionaire...no, make that BILLIONAIRE." At that, reality changed with a fuzzy blur and the ring became especially hot on Morgan's finger. "And you didn't inherit a cent, either. You made your money with patents and slick investing. And you made most of your money as a teenager so you're mostly retired, spending time as a sexy, rugged adventurer. You're the first Asian-American to journey beneath the North Pole in a submarine of your own design. Your hobbies include cave diving, bow hunting, motorcycles, and swimming the English Channel." With that, it was so.

Morgan's voice turned gravelly serious. "I could never be with any man that does not share my love for hovercraft."

"Alright, alright, what am I forgetting? Oh yeah: you have a huge brain, too...IQ of 250." She thought about this one for a minute. "You were a prodigy that graduated medical school at age 12. And instead of being some nerd, you're a bad boy. A tall, handsome muscle stud even MENSA types would never, ever want to sit across the board from at chess." She said, with a shudder at the thought. "You don't like busybodies and people that tell you what to do." She said.

Morgan suddenly realized with a shudder that if his life was as radically different as stated, it's likely the two of them may never have met, and if he did why would he date her when Penelope Cruz is single?

Morgan held the hypnotically flashing clear diamond up to Big Dragon's eyes. "Alright, here's how we met...you saved me from a fire in Astoria, when you were passing by." Morgan especially relished this detail. She loved heroic alpha men, cops and firefighters.

She imagined the details of the rescue so thoroughly it was as if it actually happened (and now did). She imagined herself trapped and licked at by hot flame at her feet, her burgundy-red skirt singed, her brain delirious from the smoke. Then, she saw something that moved among the fire like a bronze smoke, walking through the wall as if it was papier-mâché, with the wall behind leaving an imprint of his body, before wrapping her warmly in his arms, that were strong like steel, with a gentle grip that could hold eggshells, but firm like a steel vice that left her breathless.

She imagined his sweat and grime covered body pressing her to his, lifting her up with one arm as if she was weightless, the other mighty column that he calls an arm supporting the crushing, flaming ceiling above, and his arms pushing aside antique wooden drawers as if they were made of styrafoam from his path. He hurled a chair through the glass of a window, shattering it as he moved towards the fire escape.

The bricks that supported the fire escape dropped away, letting the lifesaving passage out clang to the roof of the shorter building beneath it.

Big Dragon thought quickly and leaped from the window, free-falling, his athletic body twisted in midair, headed for a rooftop-placed pool beside it. Morgan's stomach moved to her neck from the lurch. Making a negligible splash in the water, Big Dragon rose, coughing vigorously. A hospital visit would be required for the pair, but no permanent damage.

"Hell yeah." Morgan felt her quinny bubble, positively berserk with hot lust. "And the moment you saw me, something clicked and you loved me more than anything. And if you do TRY to touch any other woman, you find your dick just won't get hard at all."

"Is that it?" The cute little goth girl couldn't shake the feeling she had forgotten something. Something very important. But it looked like she had gotten everything. Morgan was ridiculously exact, yet she couldn't shake a feeling she had left something off.

"Alright, that's it." She said.

The world started to fuzz and blur around Morgan as it had when she beamed herself back to her room. Morgan wondered if she had made a mistake.

When the world settled down, she came to, and she was alone. Roger -- now Big Dragon -- was nowhere in sight. And she was in very strange surroundings.

The first thing she noticed was the ring was as hot as if it had been inside of a car on a Guatemalan Summer Day. It had gotten hotter as a result of her using it, and thus she pulled it off, tossing it in an antique dresser that held some books.

The room she was in was lit by sunlight through colossal panoramic windows. She looked and saw the Manhattan cityscape, tiny and small, the yellow of taxis merely ant blips below. The height made her dizzy. Morgan was from Queens, not Manhattan, but she made a shrewd guess she was on or around Lexington or Third Avenue, north of 42nd Street and Madison Square. She knew of no building as large as this one in that area; the Empire State Building was on 34th and 5th Avenue.

The room was lined with bookcases. There was an enormous glass case of trophies that covered nearly a whole wall. Diving, Tae Kwon Do, Speedboat Racing. One wall was made entirely of plaques featuring the Guiness Book of World's Records award. "Longest Aerial Free-Fall." "Longest record for breath-holding." "Greatest number of one-arm pull-ups." "Greatest number of three-point shots in a single game (amateur)." "Greatest amount of weight pressed with a single arm." There were many more, but if it was to be believed, at least a third of the Guinness Book belonged to Big Dragon's.

There was a wall of narrow magazine covers that featured Big Dragon on them. They were everything from COMPUTER TECH WEEKLY, whose headline was "CAN A WHIZ KID SAVE ONLINE BUSINESS?" And there was another, HOVERCRAFT ENTHUSIAST, which sported the Asian muscle god, leaning his brawny build against the deck of one slick black model speeder, shirtless with his dragon tattoo prominent. Another magazine was, predictably, MUSCLE AND FITNESS, with Big Dragon shirtless, oiled, hoisting dumbbells with weights each the dimension of trash cans easily. The article read "WEIGHT TRAINING TIPS FROM THE WORLD'S STRONGEST MAN."

Morgan found herself clenching her fishnet-clad legs together at the sight of him. Most models in magazines were computer airbrushed and their skin treated with photogenic makeups. She knew for a FACT that Big Dragon really, really looked like his picture.

Morgan backed up into one of the larger bookcases, her hand absentmindedly pulling a book out. Suddenly the bookcase revolved around on a joint, revealing the other side as a wall with weapons strapped to the side. Silenced Uzi submachineguns, polished sportsman's bows with various arrows topped with different heads, as well as a collection of pointy and deadly objects, some presumably antiques: Indonesian Kris knives and Chinese Fire Wheels, Hindu "punching daggers" and a Malaysian version of the Nunchaku, the three-part sa tjat koen, among others.

Morgan wondered if she even lived here at all. She hadn't asked for this, and it was obvious the ring had made changes she hadn't asked for, possibly extrapolating from her own desires.

Morgan turned to hear a familiar sound. It was a meow by a black cat. "Pagan!" She said. She definitely lived here. Pagan wore about his neck a thick collar studded with sparkling diamonds.

"Hey baby." A voice growled, deep and bass like James Earl Jones and Barry put together, and shook the freak girl from her head to her toes.

Morgan turned and saw Big Dragon in the doorway. She had yet to see him move. His movements were as graceful as a big cat, his muscles moving under his bronzed, golden skin like pythons under silk sheets. Big Dragon's hands were behind his back. He was completely naked, except for a bare loincloth made from cheetah skin. That, and a look he gave her with his almond, exotic eyes. The loincloth had the clear salami-like outline of Big Dragon's member clearly delineated. His mighty meat pumped with blood below, as if a beating heart had been stuffed below the garment. His mass started stretching until the tip of the head had cleared the base of the animal loincloth, peeking from below it. It stiffened as Big Dragon looked at Morgan hungrily with want, the way a panther looks at a zebra.

"I got you something. I was in Sri Lanka this morning...and you know I always have something for you every time I see you." He said, as he opened the hands he had behind his back, which contained a black box. "It's a necklace. I know how much you love pearls." Each of the pearls was the size of a quarter, and was a lustrous greenish black. "You know there are seven different kinds of shades of black for pearls. I told him I wouldn't have anything but 'peacock black' for you." Big Dragon said.

Morgan could say absolutely nothing but leave her mouth open. "T-thank you." Morgan loved five things in this world: 1) her boyfriend, 2) hovercraft, 3) her family, 4) her cat, and 5) pearls. To drop what could only have been half a hundred thousand on gems...

With a burst of speed, the brawny Asian muscle stud was right beside Morgan. His arms, thick as her entire body, wrapped themselves like anacondas about her, his titanium hard biceps digging into her perfumed, soft skin. Morgan put up no fight, she pressed against the underside of his vast chest like butter melting on a hot skillet. Every touch that Big Dragon gave him, Morgan felt goose pimples pop all over her body.

Morgan dropped the pearls. Big Dragon pushed her black dreds aside with his hand and whispered in her ear.

"The Icarus II still has some fuel left. I know! Let's take it to my bungalow in Nairobi tonight." He said, with a purr at her ear. "I know how much you love the idea of making love on the tigerskin rug...we'll be back in time for your spa appointment tomorrow morning. We travel light. Hey, no need to pack pants!" He said.

To the touch, every muscle in her huge Chinese stallion's body was like a pillowcase placed over stones. His muscles even when unflexed vibrated with his potential strength like standing next to a washing machine.

With that, Big Dragon kissed Morgan. Instantaneously, both of their mouths went concave as a fish. His thick, rough catlike tongue filled her mouth, tickling her smaller, pierced tongue. Morgan, despite her tiny size, when her passion was aflame, she was no delicate blossom: she kissed back as hard as she got. She shut her gray eyes tightly, her kisses hungry and wanton -- it was like she wanted to eat his face, her hands trailing over his sexy dark mane of straight black hair. When they broke the kiss, Morgan felt as if he was going to pull her tongue out of her mouth.

What a kiss! Morgan was left in a state of swooning euphoria. She could barely stand up on her own.

Nairobi? Black pearls? She wanted a "spontaneous" guy, and by God, she GOT one.

Morgan could scarcely contain her body, whose temperate had risen so greatly beads of sweat formed on her clear and pale skin. Her nipples went Ker-SPLINK! Ker-SPLINK! Hard enough to cut glass. She had plotted this from start, but now, the reality of it, the feeling of her perky, youthful breasts pushed against the unyielding hard muscle of his body...she turned her purple-lipstick clad lips in an O-shape...and she felt her vagina clench like a vice and something like hot lead glide between her legs and on her burgundy red panties beneath.

Big Dragon smiled a sexy smile that showed his dimples, the kind of grin that could melt the frostiest of hearts.

"I know what that face means." He said. "Would you like some clean-up?"

With his great, strong hands that seemed to cover the entirety of her body, Big Dragon glided Morgan's skirt from her slender, curving hips and he dropped to his knees, still almost as tall as Morgan herself, but able to look her in the eye. With that, he fell to his back and using his teeth, he skillfully dragged Morgan's panties off. What was behind was black curly and unshaven. Big Dragon pushed his face against her quinny. He kissed it.

Morgan dropped down and spread her fishnet clad, dancer's legs out, allowing him to curl above her.

The Chinese superstud extended his lengthy gila monster tongue, rough as a cat's, and licked the inside of her thighs. He pushed his tongue inside, between Morgan's lips, a sensation that shook her body. His tongue then started whirling and turning like a cyclone inside of her, roughly licking and squeezing her in cavernous reaches no other man's tongue reached. Her back instantly popped into an arch. Her black-nailed hands clutched her Asian lover's head for dear life, pushing him into her cavern. Morgan screamed loud and hoped that Big Dragon's apartment was soundproof -- she had never gotten cunnilingus like this before. His tip could bend and touch places the length could not, sloshing and rolling inside of her. Big Dragon's head rotated on his brass corded neck. Big Dragon had the world's record for breath-holding; he could stay down under for minutes and minutes.

It was like electricity, more intense than a vibrator. It was as if every single nerve in her skinny body concentrated inside the walls of her snatch. He tapped points of skin that made her exhale.

"OH GODDDDD, I'M GOING TO COME! UHHHHhhhHHH..." She screamed. Big Dragon and his powerful lungs sucked her juices as well as if she had placed a vacuum cleaner tube up her pussy.

Big Dragon helped Morgan to her back, where she started to hyperventilate. Morgan had gotten so much pleasure she was literally paralyzed and could barely feel herself move. Big Dragon kissed her tenderly on the lips before he got up to load the Icarus II.

When she could move again, Big Dragon led Morgan out to a sumptuous private elevator. The elevator whizzed upward several floors before coming out at the roof of the skyscraper. Morgan could look down and see Manhattan; whatever building she was on, it had at least 90 floors. There on the roof, was a takeoff strip for a vehicle of a curious sweeping shape, like a boomerang or the experimental "flying wing" designs. It was painted at the prow with the name "ICARUS II." Big Dragon popped the door open, extending a hand to his delicate love gallantly, his strong grip on her waist nearly lifting her effortlessly up into the minivan-sized passenger cabin.

Before boarding the plane, Big Dragon gave her a tiny derringer with a mother of pearl handle. It was a lady's gun -- the kind kept in a holdster above stockings. To her surprise, Morgan found she had one such holdster right in her fishnets.

"It's rough out there, cutie." Big Dragon said, as she playfully swatted her ass.

Morgan was grinning from ear to ear. She had a feeling life with the 20th Century's greatest superstud was not going to be boring. A mother of pearl handled gun in the stocking? It's like being a Bond girl. She pushed her skirt up and placed the gun where it belonged.

During the flight, Morgan pressed her head against Big Dragon's hard, hot, powerful pec, her arms wrapped around his waist, as hard as the bronze metal it resembled. There, she could feel his mighty heart beat. She could feel the Chinese muscle stallion's cut abs right through his flight shirt.

Big Dragon started to talk about the function of the Icarus II and how it worked. Most of it was complicated avionic terms that she didn't entirely understand. She didn't care. Morgan could listen to the sound of Big Dragon's voice forever.

She did glean a few interesting facts from the technobabble. The Icarus II was designed by Big Dragon himself. It was a smaller, four or five seat vehicle capable of supersonic travel. Big Dragon got around the restrictions of supersonic speed in the U.S. (which for instance, caused the Concorde airlines to close down) by moving at non-supersonic flight velocity until he hit international waters, 200 miles out to shore. This slowed down the time it took for the jet to travel -- but it still meant they'd reach Nairobi between three to four hours. Morgan also learned firsthand that she was not to touch the hull or windows of the plane while it was supersonic. Because of the friction, they were hot enough to nearly burn her hand.

Morgan busied herself by leaning on Big Dragon's manly chest and reading an issue of PEOPLE magazine kept in a pocket. To her great astonishment, it mentioned "Big Dragon and Morgan Tatopolous" and featured photographs, with the huge height of her Asian lover dwarfing her in the photograph. Overall, the magazine had vacuous praise, but Morgan could read between the lines.

She detected a hint of absolute bafflement that the 21st Century's greatest superstud and most desirable batchelor had taken a cute but mostly ordinary Greek girl from Astoria, Queens when he could have been out banging a latina telenovela actress or an Austrian Duchess.

"Does this one talk about us?" Big Dragon asked. "Here, let me see." He switched a lever that activated the autopilot and took the magazine from Morgan.

Morgan grumbled. "I liked it much better when PEOPLE magazine was about people that weren't me."

"No, wait, this is good. Listen to this: 'Billionare stallion and world's strongest man, Roger "Big Dragon" is going to be in Sri Lanka this week with an experimental treatment to cure the last known cases of Black Death on the globe. At the same time the Bollywood production of "Bajrang Bali" with "world's most beautiful woman" Aishwarya Rai will be using the Anuradhapura Cave rock temple in Dambullahas a filming location, not far from where Dragon has set up his camp. The question is, will the 6'8" inch, 400 pound Chinese powerhouse stay true to his little leading lady and rein his legendary libido?' Wow, when they put it that way, they make me sound pretty interesting." Big Dragon said.

"Oh, stop..." Morgan said, "Hey...baby, you've got the autopilot on now and it's 20 minutes to African airspace. PLEASE tell me you're thinking what I'm thinking..."

"Damn, you're a horny little minx! Those PEOPLE magazine assholes must have been crazy thinking I'd leave you for some Indian babe. But no, let's wait 'till the bungalow, I have a surprise for you. I promise." He said.

"Aww, I can't wait that long!" She said, undoing his top button and kissing the powerful muscle underneath, leaving purple lipstick on his muscle. "I'm so hot right now, if you place an egg on the small of my back, it'll start frying."

Two things nagged on Morgan's mind: the first was, in the whirlwind that was this new and wondrous existence, she had forgotten the computer ring back in New York, now thousands of miles away. This sent a chill like ice water down her spine. What if someone finds it and figures out the truth about Big Dragon? He -- and she - would lose everything. Worse, what if someone really nasty found it? Morgan had neglected to find out if the ring could be used to hurt or kill.